#but the tag always needs more fuel. and i like this frame

[birdricks]

theyre running to the gay club. or smth

#birdrick #this is just an early draft of a frame from the. thing im doing rn #to work out colours properly #but the tag always needs more fuel. and i like this frame #btw hope everyone has had or is having a good christmas. or just a good day if u dont celebrate #this is my gift. for you #btw before you all ATTACK me for drawing bp hairles. trust me i KNOW hes a bear. #i just have a specific lame ass hc that bird people can onlyyy grow feathers. #which is kinda hard to draw but i give him a little happy trail anyways #if the anatomy sucks watever ill fix it later #also im a like 7 foot bp truther. it doesnt show super well cus of the poses but u know

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Authority ||

Shane Walsh x female reader

Tags/warnings: dirty, sweaty, horny, Shane sex cos that's what I want.

Shane can't help chuckling at your stormy expression and demeanour as you pound an angered path towards the garage store where he's working.

“What's grinding your gears this time darlin’?” He asks, but you only shoot him a fierce scowl in answer.

“Aw nah, you been fightin’ with Rick again?” he guesses. You always had something to say about him almost every other day.

You clench your teeth before answering. “He won't let me lead a group to go check out that boarded up farm we passed a week or so ago. I know there must be some good stuff in there, maybe even fuel and tools!” You kick at the door frame in annoyance. “He says he doesn't think it's worth it, that it's too dangerous and that the others wouldn't listen to me or respect my authority on a trip out there anyway. Fuck him!”

Shane watches you winding yourself up in a rage, your fists bunching till your knuckles are showing through your skin.

“He thinks I'm green but I've got skills! I can help! Why does he have to be such a knowitall asshole lording it over all the rest of us? It ain't fair.”

He catches your wrist before you start punching the wall. “Hey, hey now. You gonna calm down before you break somethin’, like your goddamn fingers?”

You scrunch up your face in annoyance. “Depends. You gonna take his side and tell me I'm just a little girl who should shut up cos she doesn't know anything?”

He looks you straight in the eyes. “Nah, I know you're capable. You just gotta give Rick some time to trust you with it, that's all. Hell, I know he's a grouchy sonofabitch but the system's worked alright so far, huh?”

You growl in defeat.

He's got a point you guess, but it still rubs you up the wrong way how Rick seems to see you as nothing more than a nagging pain in his ass. “Would you follow orders from me, Shane?” you challenge.

He gives you that signature self-assured cocky smile of his. “You bet. I trust your judgement, sweetheart.”

You scoff, actually semi surprised by his seemingly honest response.

“Yeah, sure you would. Whatever.”

You watch him in silence as he moves crates of supplies, some full up with cans and other heavy items, stacking them up against the wall. His vest is damp with sweat, beads of moisture roll down his neck to his broad, glistening chest and you can't help licking your lips.

“Doesn't help that it's so fucking hot today,” you muse, tugging your own shirt away from your sticky skin. Then you settle on an idea.

“I'm going down to the lake. Come with me.”

Shane pauses, glances up. “I gotta finish up this shit…”

You plant your hands on your hips. “Come with me. That's an order, Shane.” You smirk and he catches on, putting the crate down and straightening up.

“S’that so?” He responds with an interested look and you nod.

“Y’said you'd follow my lead, so follow.” you quip, walking out into the blazing heat of the yard towards the gate.

“Might be walkers down there.” He says, grabbing his pistol and knife from the shelf and tucking them into the back of his pants.

You wave your hand carelessly back in his direction as you keep walking. You've got your own weapon on you. “I'm capable, remember?”

Shane rolls his eyes as he catches you up. He's not sure what he's letting himself in for but it's not a good idea to let you go off alone, especially if he expects you've got something to prove.

The lake was a godsend. A welcome actual oasis in this rabid and lethal world that you'd all found yourselves trying to survive. A perk of living in the camp and bearing Rick's questionable leadership. It was small, a now undammed creek running in to fill an old quarry, but it was fairly safe and utterly perfect for dip on a day like this.

The side you came in on had a grassy bank and a large tree growing near, giving some much needed shade before the ground turned to gravel and slate near the water. You scoped out the rim and the shimmering, inviting water for any signs of walkers and once satisfied it was clear, you turned to Shane, planting your palm firmly on his damp chest.

“You, stay.” You command, gesturing at him to sit down.

“What the hell? How come I don't get to cool off?” He complains as he reluctantly sits on the baking hot grass. You cross your arms at the hem of your shirt and tug it up over your head.

“You said you'd follow my orders, didn't you? Don't you trust me?” You grin, slinging your top over a low branch of the tree and then starting to unbutton your pants.

Shane watches unashamedly as you undress in front of him. You had brought him here after all, wanted him here for whatever reason, and he sure as hell wasn't about to complain about the current view he's got. His gaze roams over the curves of your near-naked body as you strip to your well-worn underwear. He's never seen this much of you before, and he likes it.

You make your way to the water's edge, shrieking and then humming with relief as the sudden cold hits your heated skin.

“So what the hell am I s’posed to do? It's as hot as all hell, even in the shade!” Shane calls out.

“Watch for walkers, idiot!” You yell back with a laugh, and wade in deeper into the lake until you can swim. It was such a treat to have this space relatively close to the camp, but it wasn't the only thing you had in mind…

Shane watches you enjoying yourself as he sweats under the tree. You had your own watchful eye on him, near salivating as he eventually pulled his vest off to reveal the rest of that deliciously toned torso.

When you're done you walk slowly out of the lake, shaking off your hair and stalking towards where Shane was lying on the bank. He pushes himself up on his hands, surprised as you straddle his hips, grunting as cool droplets of water fall from your body onto his.

“What are ya doin’?” He asks as you push him back down to lie flat on his back.

“Cooling you off.” You reply matter of factly as you rock your hips down on his crotch, feeling his cock beginning to harden rapidly through your wet panties.

“Yeah?” His voice is husky, his hands finally landing at your waist as you lean in close, grinding yourself against his cock again, feeling him twitch.

“When I first came here, Rick told me to stay away from you, y'know? Said you were dangerous…”

“Fuck…” Shane curses, his fingers gripping at your damp skin and eyes flicking between the sight of your hardened nipples poking through your bra and your wiggling hips on his. “You doin’ this to get back at him or somethin’?” He asks with a slight strain in his voice.

“No...”

Your own fingers start to explore and trail over his chest, scratching briefly at his nipples and on down those washboard abs to hook under the waistband of his pants. You can't help yourself, leaning down, your tongue sliding out between your lips to lick up the layer of sweat from between his pecs. You close your eyes as the satisfying taste of his salty musk hits your taste buds and both you and Shane moan. You lick and kiss your way up to the side of his neck and nip at his earlobe, purring out your desire.

“I just wanted you to fuck me.”

His eyes gleam a dark amber in the sun as he looks up at you. “Yeah? Is that an order too?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You teased the question but he wastes no time, scrabbling quickly to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, pulling his thick cock out of his underwear as you shimmy out of your panties. You'd need to be fast, this was all the foreplay you needed. You couldn't risk any of the others from the camp wandering down here and finding you both.

He was just as big as you had imagined. You weren't at all surprised with the way he would nearly always stride dick first through the camp. When you could, you'd sometimes pass any quiet moments watching him work, whether it was swinging an axe to cut firewood, or patrolling up on the wall. Even if he could be smarmy and bullish he was prime eye candy for sure, and you wanted a taste.

“God… damn.” Shane hisses as you sink down on him, your bodies now as one, feeling your tight, wet heat gripping around his throbbing length. Air leaves your lungs in a gasp as you start to move up and down, and Shane moves his hips upwards in quick, powerful thrusts to meet yours. “Shit… god-fucking-damn!”

“Fuck, Walsh!” You moan as he's stimulating the deepest parts of you, his hands firm on your hips, fingers pressing in harder..

“S'at good?” He grits out, captivated by the feel and look of you moving above him with abandon.

“So good-” you whine. He shifts forward, ducking his head to mouth at the softness of your breasts spilling over your bralet.

“Oh you like that, huh?” he snarls, “yeah, jus’ like that?” He leans back again so he can pound into you even harder, gritting his teeth, beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck to pool at his collarbones with the effort. He snatches the cups of your bra down, letting your tits bounce around, squeezing them hard before he drops one hand down to where your bodies meet, his thumb desperately rubbing sloppy circles over your slick, swollen pearl.

The dry grass presses into your knees as you fuck, your pussy starting to flutter as the tightness at the core of you builds so quickly. You haven't had any form of intimacy for so long that everything you're feeling now is intense, sharp, and needed.

“Don't you dare stop!” You threaten, riding his cock even faster as you near your edge.

Shane is panting, hips bucking wildly.

“Shit-shit-shit baby I'm gonna cum, aw fuck I'm gonna-”

You lift up off of him and rapidly switch to frantically rubbing your pussy and clit along the length of his cock, seconds later his mouth is forming a silent ‘o’ and his pulsing dick is shooting stripes of creamy white over his stomach and chest between you as you topple over with him. Shane hooks his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down and smashing your hot mouths together as you both shudder through your orgasms with a deep shared moan.

You push off of him, laying on your back to his side, both of you panting ragged breaths with the heat and exertion.

“Fuck… oh christ.”

Your satisfied hum turns to laughter when you hear Shane's curses yet again.

“So, do you like a woman that knows what she wants an’ orders you around, Walsh?”

He grumbles, gingerly sitting up and wincing at the sweaty, messy state he's in. “Mm, I guess only when it's me that she wants.”

He gets up and strips off his boots and pants, and you watch as he takes his gorgeous ass into the lake to wash, dunking his entire body and scrubbing his hands over his face and closely shaved head. You soon follow and when you're done you put your now-dry clothes back on in a silence only disturbed by birdsong and the sound of the bubbling creek.

“We should get back.” You say redundantly, breaking the sudden tension that had formed.

“Yeah.” Shane agrees, not meeting your eyes.

You awkwardly part ways back at the gate, and when you're on shift up on the wall later that night you can't help wondering if you miscalculated, made a mistake.

“Hey.”

You almost jump out of your skin as Shane sneaks up behind you.

You calm your racing heart as you move the barrel of the gun away from him. “Jesus christ, don't do that, I could have killed you!”

He just smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Well now I wasn't lookin' for that.” He drawls, and you soften.

“So what were you looking for?”

"You had any more run-ins with Rick today?"

"Uh... no? Why?" You reply, slightly confused.

He shrugs, eyes flitting between the gun you're holding and you. “Just been wonderin’, if maybe you wanna order me around some more?”

#shane walsh x female reader #shane walsh smut #shane walsh fic

[oharapussy]

miguel x peter x fem!reader sex pollen fic because i’m corny and also a freak🤭

crossposted to ao3 💓i am fueled by replies and comments

minors please dni

these idiots. you had urgent business to attend to, as always, in some dangerous, exotic location, universes away: and this big motherfucker with his smug little friend tagged along. you didn't mind either of them alone, miguel with a silent fortitude, and peter, boyishly charming, but together, you couldn't seem to stand them. perhaps it was the way they bickered, or how their shoulders moved, but something felt wrong. it was in a moment like this, watching their complicated, masculine frames, studying the fronds of a nearby plant, your face seemed to burn:

imagine them both jerking off on you at the same time. imagine them eiffel-towering you. imagine them leashed and begging.

you waved the thoughts away, embarrassed and suddenly tight between your legs. be a professional, you silently screamed to yourself, pushing your way through vines and past tall trees. walking a few paces, you noticed a lack of noise from behind you, your accomplices going dangerously quiet. turning back, you were confronted with the two in a way you had never seen them before.

hunched over, gasping for breath, a sweet smell in the air dissipated. it caught you off-guard to see them so weakened, especially when, as you came closer, their knees seemed to buckle against your touch.

“don’t come near me,” miguel demanded, keeping you at an arm’s distance away. it seemed that he was about to say more, before he was cut off by a wildly-pornographic cry, straight from his stomach. your face turned red, trying not to look him in the eyes. fear twisted in your stomach when you felt a slim hand, ostensibly peter's, cup the heat between your thighs, sending a shock through your body. 

“what are you two doing?” you hiss. you feigned seriousness, trying not to admit that you’re just about to moan from the touch alone. from behind you, you feel miguel’s hot breath against your neck, practically sandwiched between the two. his large claws retracted, you felt a sting as he grabbed ahold of your ass, massaging it.

“i’m sorry,” peter shuddered, his voice beastly and muttering. you felt the unmistakable sensation of his hard-on pressing against your thigh. “i just need this right now. please, honey.”

feeling his hand rub your clit through your suit, you instantly moaned, embarrassed at how amazing it felt.

“you liked that?” he asked, pawing circles around the sensitive spot. shaking your head yes, he chuckled a bit, clearly amused at how much he had flustered you. "didn't think you would be into this," he added, slipping his hand down your waistband.

"shut the hell up or i won't help you two anymore," you groaned, desperate for more of his touch. from behind you, miguel wrapped his hands around your waist, bending you there, much to your surprise.

"i need to taste you, mamí," he whined, rudely tugging away at your suit to expose your cunt. "please, i need it." admittedly, it was cute to hear him beg. rocking your hips back into his face, he attacked you, licking between your legs with the lewdest sounds imaginable. and god, was he fucking good at this. quickening his pace, he brought you to the floor, sitting squarely on his face.

“oh- gentle, please,” you whined, feeling his tongue swish in and out of you. clasping your thighs over his face, you wished he could stay like this forever- you’d have to come back here and find out whatever that was in that pollen. hungrily, peter eyed you, jealousy brewing in his stomach, his cock twitching. all of a sudden, miguel pulled away from you with a humiliating pop, slick dripping down his chin.

“parker, she’s crazy fuckin’ wet for us,” he moaned, giving your ass a gentle smack. you clenched around the air, knowing what was coming.

if you could think straight, you would probably individually be criticizing their technique. taking long, languid strokes up and down your pussy, peter was certainly the more romantic of the two. miguel, however, was the one really fucking you. crying out, your legs stretched to their capacity as you tried to contain both of them- you felt tears fall down your face from the overstimulation.

“taking turns so well with our new toy, aren’t we?” peter muttered, his breath hot against your folds. you didn’t even care anymore: not about what this meant for you as co-workers, not sexually, not romantically. as long as you could feel one of their noses against your clit, drunk on your slick, you could die happy. coming hard against their faces, they lapped you up, hardly finished.

#atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #peter b parker smut #peter b parker x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv fem!reader

[milks-thoughts]

TW: wounds and blood, but other than that: Wholesome fluff! (children)

Summary: the turtles have a younger sibling, guess who decides he’s gonna take care of ‘em

I decided to make reader a fox yokai with teleportation powers, why? I dont know it just feels like it fits. (tagging @regretisstoredintheme because this is a version of their request ^^)

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞

♥︎ you were really difficult to take care of only because you kept teleporting

♥︎ and yet every time you think you got away with it, Raph always found you

♥︎ honestly? you keep giving Raph heart attacks. that’s why you can’t play hide and seek

♥︎ bath time is honestly so difficult because you keep teleporting out of the tub

♥︎ you’ve absolutely gotten mirror trapped before. please stop. they’ve already got banned from the mystic library

♥︎ Leo absolutely gave you the nickname “ Batata (sweet potato) “ and it absolutely stuck

♥︎ Raph whipped his head around trying to find you “ okay batata you can come out now- “ he can’t believe he lost a 7 year old! walking around the lair, checking under everything and everyone. You sniffed and paused as Raph whipped his head around to your hiding spot. Blinking you covered your snout hoping that it’d quiet you down. He paused again and stared confused, hadn’t he already checked there? You cheered as he left “ you win! I forfeit “ he threw his hands up “ cmon we can watch ghostbears newest match! “ you perked up at that and slinked out of your hiding spot sneaking up behind Raph you attached yourself to his shell and gave his neck a big wet boop from your nose. He jumped at the feeling and grabbed you by your scruff “ what has Raph told you about doin that? “ you felt your ears fall and tail situated between your legs as you whimpered “ not to do that.. “ Raph looked at you softly and used his free hand to gently pet your cheek “ Raphs sorry for gettin mad, you really scared me! “ he said only adding more fuel to the shameful emotional fire. He sighed softly putting you down on the sofa “ cmon let’s watch some wrestling “ your ears perked up at that “ yay! “ you cheered throwing up your hands. Raph smiled softly at your antics and pet the top of your head, you pushed into his head and cheered as ghostbear pinned down his opponent. Raph wondered why you found wrestling so cool, his brothers didn’t like it that much, but he wasn’t mad. He had a buddy to watch it with!

♥︎ Raph hummed in worry as you twisted on your bed, pain wrinkled across your face. You had gotten really sick all the sudden, everyone kept reassuring him it was just a bad case of the flu. but you looked in so much pain for someone so young, 8 year olds shouldn’t go through this pain, he couldn’t help but worry. Raph pet your ears gently as he hummed you always enjoyed when he sung “ you are my sunshine “ before bed. It was the only way to get you to sleep when you were in your terrible twos. Raphs gentle humming filled your ears as you gently opened your eyes. Rolling you smiled at him “ hiya Raphie “ you rasped out, your voice dry and gravely “ oh my baby.. “ he whispered out quietly as he grabbed some water. That’d been the first time you were really there when you woke up, you had gotten so out of it. Raphs gentle singing filled the room again as he lulled you to sleep, he had taken to holding you like a baby all wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. Raphs chasm lifted each day as you eventually got well again. You had been kicking back in no time, you just needed a little help.

♥︎ you guys thought Raph was mad when Shredder grabbed Leo? He went bonkers when the Shredder cornered you, the empty remains of the lair crumbling around you as you snarled at the suit of armor. you saw your own terror filled reaction in its reflective surface. This was over it had to be watching the Shreeders arm come down and slice open your leg, oh god you were going to d- your thoughts were cut off as Raph body checked the Shredder, his glowing frame buzzed with anger as Leo rushed over and grabbed you. You never saw Raph so angry slamming Shredder into the wall over and over again, it eventually got the upper hand and forced him away, making him retreat to you. When you all were going to Todds place he was panicking. you gentle whines filled the turtle tank as you trembled pain shaking your frame. “ it’ll be okay “ was all you could hear, Mikey’s gentle touches making you at least some what calmer. You started to sob as Leo wrapped your leg, Raphs hand rubbed your face and murmured the song you loved so much. Donnie could only stare, he had lost his own child after all. Sheldon was completely destroyed. You eventually fell asleep but god was it terrifying. You were only 9, how could he let that happen?

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #this is all purely platonic #PLATONIC. #YOU ARE BLOCKED IF YOU READ THIS ROMANTICALLY #rottmnt x you #angst #fluff #bittersweet #rise raph #this is what happens when you leave me alone

[trans-gainerism]

Like, I’m fully against posting pictures of fat people without consent who are just living their life (they ain’t your fetish fuel!)

but I do have a little fantasy

-

You’ve been looking at gaining content online for a long time now- tumblr, porn sites, any weight gain stories you can find.

You wouldn’t gain weight yourself, you’ve always been fit and proud of it; and although you been slacking in the gym recently, the intention was still there. You’re just going through a rough patch, you don’t have enough time at the moment but you’ll get back to it soon.

But the fantasy of being massively fat always appealed to you, when you were younger you used to use cling wrap and pillows to make an impromptu fat-suit, getting off on how you looked once you struggled to fit a shirt over it.

But it was just a fantasy, and it would stay that way.

You get home from work, slightly out of breath - the bus must have stopped further away than usual, forcing you to walk more. That incline always was a little tricky.

Kicking off your shoes, you settle back into the dent you’ve made in your sofa. You fish out your phone and habitually open tumblr and start scrolling.

Teasing posts from feeders that make your stomach rumble, gifs of enormous jiggling bellies being played with lovingly, pictures of amazing starter bellies just starting to form muffin tops.

Then something gives you pause.

A photo catches your eye; it’s candid of a person on public transport, a bus is your best guess. You can’t actually see due to the immense size of the person obscuring the seat. Shirt pulled tight by a huge belly peeking out to rest on chunky thighs, they were basically spilling over the sides of the seat, their girth squished between the arm rests.

They were staring at their phone, held in a pudgy hand that rested on their distended gut like a table. A double chin framed their face, only accentuated by looking downwards - the flab all over their body captured in the photo mid-wobble from the vehicle’s movement.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was you.

You stare in shock for so long that your phone goes dark, the reflective black screen showing you the shocking truth - revealing the same double chin in all its glory.

The photo must have been taken on your commute to work one day. Obviously, you hadn’t even considered anyone would be watching you - and you’d definitely be watching everyone else on the bus with suspicion next time.

You unlock you phone again, unable to stop looking at the photo.

Oh my goodness, that can’t be you… right? That enormous whale almost needing to use two bus seats? Sure, you hadn’t been prioritising fitness recently- but it hadn’t gotten that bad, surely?

You looked back on things in a different light; those shirts that shrunk in the wash? Getting out of breath easily? You realise the truth with a wave of heat.

You’re fat. Probably obese. All those midnight snacks, putting off the gym, and ordering takeout - it had started the domino effect that you don’t know how to stop.

Still looking at the picture, you reach down, gripping a handful of fat from your chest just to see if they were as big as the picture made it look.

They were. You drop it, and as it lands on your stomach you can feel it send ripples through your flab.

With a horrified curiosity, you click on the notes of the post. Hundreds of them. You go from reblog to reblog, looking at the added texts and tags.

“Woww, this piggy knows how to eat!”

“I bet this fatty doesn’t even know their belly is sticking out lol”

“#weightgaingoals”

A new rush of heat flutters through you, this time straight to between your legs. Your face is still flushed.

You spend the rest of the evening staring as the notes of the post go up and up, more and more people lusting over how huge you’ve gotten accidentally.

In a fit of arousal, you impulsively order an obscene amount of takeout - a large pizza along with additional meals from McDonalds, KFC, and a few local joints, one of which being an ice cream parlour.

You lustfully while away the night by stuffing yourself to the brim, fondling your heavy belly and reading the teasing and praise from these anonymous onlookers. You’re lost in the pure pleasure of it all, all regrets about your waistline muted for now. Hedonistic, gluttonous, greedy.

You wonder if you’ll look bigger in your next picture.

#wg story #wg text #weight gain fiction #weight gain story

[wildbornsiren]

Kiss and Make up || Jake "Hangman" Seresin/F!Reader.

Kiss and Make up Summary: After a fight, you and Jake make up. 1521 words Female/AFAB reader (established relationship) Warnings: EXPLICIT MINORS DNI reference to an argument, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected vaginal sex. Notes: for @butaneandthebeast who asked for "Hangman and makeup sex". Comments and reblogs fuel my muses, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it's so appreciated and means the most. **Tag list is done. Please follow @wbslibrary**

Three days had passed since you and Jake had fought. Sure, the two of you bickered and sniped at each other at times, it was just part of being in a relationship. But this, this was something different. The tension had been building for days, bubbling over in a heated argument. Jake growing quieter and more reserved in response to your explosive anger. At this point, you can’t even remember what the two of you had fought over. Glancing once more at your phone which remained silent and unresponsive, you sighed, shoving it into your pocket and curling up on the couch. Flipping through channels trying to find something anything to distract yourself from the pit of worry in your tummy, and the worry that lingered in the back of your mind. Finding your phone in your hand once more your fingers hover Jake’s contact in your phone.

Before you can send the text there’s a knock at your door. You shuffle over, open it, and find Jake standing on your stoop. He looks as tired as you feel, his clothes wrinkled, deep purple shadows under his eyes, his hair messy. “I’m sorry.” He says, nearly as quickly as you say it. Jake’s stepping through the door, wrapping you in his arms, holding you close, his nose pressed to the top of your head. Your face is pressed to his chest, and he smells like citrus, sandalwood, the faintest trace of beer and something that was distinctly Jake. “I’ll try harder to talk before I bottle things up.” You murmur, his hands are so warm and gentle as they skim up and down your back. “I’ll do better listening to you.” He kisses the crown of your head, then your forehead. “I’m so sorry baby.” You look up at him, seeing the sincerity in those beautiful green eyes. His hands frame your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “Can I kiss you hello?” He murmurs, lips brushing against yours. “Yes please,” whispering back, sighing in relief when his mouth eases over yours. You’ve always loved the way he kisses, leaning into you with his whole body, his tongue sliding past your lips, deepening the kiss. You cling to his shirt, pulling him as close as physically possible. He smiles against your mouth, bumping his nose against yours. “I missed you.” He’s holding you to him, your head cradled against his shoulder. “I promise I won’t leave angry again.” “We don’t leave angry, and we don’t go to bed without goodnight.” You say. “I can agree to that.” His hands slide under the hem of your t-shirt, resting on your sides. “I love you, and I know I’m not perfect, but I’m willing to work through it for you.” “The legendary Jake Seresin admitting he’s not perfect?” You tease gently, chasing his grin with soft kisses to the corner of his mouth. “Be still my heart.” “You’re such a brat.” His hands continue up your sides, inching your shirt up slowly. His hands are warm and worn and feel so good against your skin. You raise your arms when the shirt comes up further and he tugs it gently from your body, tossing it to the hallway floor. You reach for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them, needing to feel his skin against yours. His shirt joins yours, and your hands are all over him, tracing over his muscles, fascinated by the way his breath hitches at your touch. “I love you too.” You can’t say it as easily as he does, but he’s never pressured you to say it in return. His shoulders relax, his hands continuing their path over your torso. Jake’s hands cup your breasts, his head dropping to mouth at the column of your throat, along your collar bone. There’s a subtle scrape of stubble against the curve of your breast, as he nuzzles into your chest. “Can I take you to bed?” So soft, almost hesitant. He looks up at you, and you feel the cracks in your heart start to mend. He holds you as if you’re precious, and he’s scared you’ll shatter in his hands. “Take me to bed flyboy.” Jake takes you by the hand, leading you through the apartment, pulling you to him once more when you both step through the door of the bedroom. He kisses you slow and gentle, groaning softly when your hand slides between your bodies, fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans. “Sweetheart,” he rasps, jerking into your hand when you palm his cock through his boxers. His hands, unsteady as they draw your sleep shorts down your hips, eyes fluttering closed when you step away from him, fully nude and turn toward the bed. He shoves his jeans down, kicking them aside, boxers quickly following suit. He braces over you, hand on either side of your body, kissing your forehead sweetly. “Move closer to the edge. I won’t let you slip.” Jake drops to his knees in front of you, hands skimming up your legs, easing them apart. His mouth drags along the inside of your thighs, soft open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

“Jake…” His eyes raise to meet your gaze, and he smiles softly. “I don’t beg sweetheart, but I know to ask for forgiveness on my knees.” His tongue darts out to lick at your pussy. Jake moans softly, the vibrations going straight through you, his fingers parting your folds, kissing the warmth pooling between your legs as sweetly as he kisses your mouth. He laps at your clit, the flickering of his tongue making you shake with need. There’s a moment of reprieve, but the desperation for more spiraling in your belly intensifies. His nose bumps your clit, tongue teasing at your entrance, pressing in, licking and kissing. One hand slides into his hair, and he groans, tongue pressing deeper. You tug gently and he only presses closer. The scruff on his cheeks and jaw scrape against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you fall back against the bed, overwhelmed. Another yank to his hair, hips rolling against his face, and the sound that comes from him makes your eyes flutter, hand twitching, tugging those blond strands once more. It’s wet and hot, he’s moaning against your pussy, swallowing your arousal. His taps twice against your thigh, an agreed upon signal to use his face for your own pleasure. It only spurs you on, grinding against that scruff and relentless tongue. You can’t say anything but his name, fucking yourself against the man between your legs. The pleasure finally snaps, spiraling through you, hips arching. Jake only presses closer, lavishing attention on your clit, sucking and licking at it until you’re pushing his head away with a shaky hand. He kisses your tummy, up your torso, nuzzling softly against your neck. “Still with me?” You whimper, and he chuckles softly, that satisfied sound sliding down your spine. “I don’t know.” He’s so warm and heavy on top of you, and it’s something you missed so much. “I think I need more.” “More?” He quirks an eyebrow up, shifting his weight. His cock is hard, straining against his stomach, tanned skin smeared with precum. “One more for me?” Your arms circle his shoulders, pulling him close again. “Please fuck me.” You kiss him softly, tasting yourself on his lips. His hands grip your hips, drawing them up, the blunt head of his cock sliding into you. You tighten around him instantly as he sinks into you painstakingly slow. Inch by inch, you’re both panting by the time he’s bottomed out. He thrusts slow and deep, dragging himself in and out of your body. It’s slow, even, and drives you crazy. Jake is pressing kisses to your face, shoulders, every inch of you that he can reach. His muscles move under your hands, rippling and flexing. He’s the most breathtaking person you’ve ever met, and beyond that he’s giving, affectionate, with a wicked sense of humor, and he loved you for your flaws. You loved him for his, the way he protected you effortlessly, defending you without a second thought. Overstimulated, overwhelmed and wanting more, your second orgasm washes over you, warm and easy. “Baby?” He’s stopped, fingers brushing errant tears from your cheeks. “Am I hurting you?” You shake your head reaching for him, pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you.” “I know, I know sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing you again. “I love you too. So much it hurts.” He smiles a little crookedly. “Want me to stop?” “Don’t you dare,” you hook your legs around his middle, keeping him close to you. Jake smirks, resuming his thrusts, a bit harder than before chasing his own release. Jake comes with a breathless sound, face pressed against the curve of your neck, trembling as he empties into you. He kisses you again, soft and sweet before he’s pulling out. Jake rolls out of bed, pulling his boxers on and stepping into the bathroom. He cleans you up with a warm washcloth, bundling you up in the blankets, warmed by you both. /end

#Jake 'Hangman' Seresin/you #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin/reader #shelly writes #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x reader #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x you #Jake 'Hangman' Seresin #stuff my box #shelly loves masumi

[creatureoftheunderworldd]

Bloodlust

Vampire!Obi Wan Kenobi/Padawan!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Tags: One-Shot, Vampirism, Blood Drinking, Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Dark!Obi Wan Kenobi, Possessive!Obi Wan Kenobi, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Unhappy Ending, no use of y/n

Description: You are Obi Wan Kenobi's padawan and are attacked while helping refuel your ship on the way back to Coruscant after a mission. Obi Wan steps in and gets attacked himself, but something strange has happened to him since.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50262715

notes:

HAPPY (super early) HALLOWEEN EVERYONE! This idea came to me while listening to I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love so if you're familiar with that album you won't be surprised by the contents. Reader and Obi Wan are pretty platonic in this because I wanted to focus more on the vampirism but there's still little moments of fluff but not much at all. Hope you enjoy this spooky read.

Also sorry if this is out of character or I got things wrong, this is my very first Star Wars fic so be nice :P

***

Something has changed in Master Obi Wan. It was subtle at first. He’d been a little irritable from your trip to a small, unnamed planet you’d stopped at for fuel. You’d been attacked while returning the gas cap, and Obi Wan stepped in, only to be assaulted himself by the humanoid.

Neither of you had seen him coming. Neither of you felt him through the force. It was like he was dead to the universe.

And unusually strong, nearly overpowering Master Kenobi, despite his slender frame being much smaller than your Master’s.

Still, the attacker managed to scrape his teeth along the vein in Obi Wan’s neck, sinking his teeth enough to draw blood in his tackle. Obi Wan was able to draw his lightsaber and spear the perpetrator in the abdomen, and when he didn’t die immediately, just writhed and tightened his jaw on his neck, Obi Wan yanked his light saber up his torso, creating a burn hole from his navel all the way to his heart.

Then, he stopped moving.

Obi Wan shuts off his lightsaber, practically throwing it aside as he gasps for breath, looking at you with wide, wild eyes.

You gasped for breath with him, utterly startled, but you were a Jedi. You were able to center yourself with the force once more and go back to steady, just like your Master taught you.

Obi Wan on the other hand, was still breathless.

You’ve seen him in battle countless times. Even after the most intense of fights, your Master always remained almost frustratingly stoic. Never so much as needing a second to catch his breath before moving along to the next challenge you’d face. It was jarring seeing him so… shaken.

Finally, he closed his eyes and forced a large breath in through his nose and out through his mouth.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back. That same softness and compassion he usually looked at you with returned at last. He said your name quietly.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Um, Master?”

“Yes?”

“You’re bleeding.”

He looks down at himself, patting down his sides, searching for blood. You step forward, your hand rests on his shoulder and he freezes, shooting his head up to face you with furrowed brows. You continue, sliding your hand across his shoulder blade to rest at the base of his neck where you could see two puncture marks and a bunch of… what looked like teeth marks in a crescent moon around them.

“I think that bastard bit you.” You huff, looking into his eyes, bewildered yourself.

His hand reaches for his neck next to your hand, prodding at the puncture wounds, he hisses. Pulling back to inspect crimson blood on his fingertips where the wound oozed.

“Well, that’s about right for this backwater fuel stop.” He practically rolled his eyes, producing a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the blood from his hands, and applying pressure to his neck.

You stand for a moment, chest to chest, before you work up the nerve to speak again.

“Are you okay master? We should probably put some bacta on that…” you reach for the handkerchief to help apply pressure, but he grabs your wrist in his free hand and forces it down a little harsher than he intends. He makes sure to look down at you with the kindest eyes he can muster.

“I’m perfectly fine, dear. Don’t worry about me. Let’s get back on the ship and leave this planet before something else tries to eat us.” He smiles down at you, and you pause, biting your lip, searching his face for any sign he might be trying to deceive you, but ultimately you nod. Stepping away from your almost embrace, you scurry over to the ramp of the ship, waiting for him to retrieve his lightsaber before strapping yourself in for takeoff.

What neither of you were aware of was the venom flowing through Obi Wan Kenobi’s veins.

It’s been 2 cycles since, and Obi Wan is just not himself.

He has a migraine, constantly. It’s been blooming in the back of his left eye since he awoke. The wound on his neck throbs, even after Obi Wan let you carefully apply bacta to his injuries, secretly flattered you’d like to dote after him.

In fact, even though he felt a general malaise all over, you were the only solace.

To say the small ship was cramped was an understatement. Due to the close quarters, you’d often have to brush past each other to get around the craft. Oddly, though, he never noticed the fragrance you wore until now. Whether it was some sort of spray or oil he wasn’t sure but stars you smelled so good. How had he never noticed before? Normally, a strong perfume would overpower Obi Wan during such an episode of migraines, but the scent you wore must have some healing properties because it soothed his aching head instead of irritated.

Of course you smelled nice in the past, like soap and something floral, but this was different. Intoxicating. It made him want to press his face into your pulse points and inhale more where you may have applied it. These thoughts disturbed him.

This was not the Jedi way. It was inappropriate to think such thoughts, especially about his padawan. Especially when he has already fought wars in his mind about his feelings towards you. Even as you sat in the copilot’s seat in the cockpit, headphones in your holopad, enjoying music to pass the time of travel, you were growing irresistible by the second. He didn’t understand it. He’d never felt this way about anyone before. It was primal and urgent. Like every instinct in his body was telling him to bury his face in the soft flesh between your shoulder and your ear and he hadn’t the faintest idea why. He couldn’t control it. He was restless in his seat, and sweating. He must be feverish.

Everything was off to you. He was flushed and pale, his eyes hollow and rimmed with dark rings, he stared intensely out at the streaks of hyperspace.

You took off your headphones, wrapping them in your holopad and tucking it away in the cubby next to you. Wrapping your hands together, you place them in your lap, sucking in a breath before speaking.

“Master, forgive me, but you look unwell. Perhaps we should get you to a medic once we’re back on Coruscant.” You speak slowly, and barely above a whisper.

His eyes remained fixed on hyperspace, not daring to glance your way, fearing what he might do if you catch his eye.

He continues gazing out the windshield long enough you convince yourself he didn’t even hear you. You reach your hand out to touch his forearm to grab his attention but suddenly he stands and turns away from you. You pull your hand back like you’d been burned, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, I think you’re right about a medic. I’m going to go lie down. Stay here.” He commands then storms out, snapping the door behind him with the force. His headache worse than ever, Obi Wan’s entire body ached and shivered.

Hours later, in a cot in the hull, he was growing increasingly frustrated because he couldn’t decide which was more uncomfortable; the blanket on or the blanket off.

He’d been trying to sleep for about 27 hours now and he just couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried or didn’t try, he couldn’t relax for the life of him.

You’d come to check on him multiple times, growing more and more concerned each visit upon realizing his condition hadn’t improved. Each visit it was growing harder and harder for him to trust himself in your presence.

Only one more cycle to Coruscant now, he reminded himself. Once you see a medic this will all be over.

You were sick yourself with worry. Pacing around the cockpit, you tried your best to give him the space to be ill, but you would eventually grow tired of your holopad and give in to check on him. Master Kenobi was your rock, the one usually helping you through a tough situation, carrying you. But this, this was serious. You’d never seen him so weak, and in such duress, it terrified you to your core.

Your knee shook as you waited for the one can of soup you found in the cupboard of the ship to heat up on the portable hot plate. Stirring it hurriedly and pouring the warm contents into a bowl.

You carried it to Master Kenobi, who seemed to finally be getting some sort of rest, even if it looked fitful and uncomfortable. You frowned, turning to the fresher and returning with a cool wet washcloth to drape over his feverish head. This seemed to help him relax a little, him inhaling deeply as you rested it on him and sighing as you pulled away. You smiled a little, satisfied you helped some. Setting the soup next to him to eat whenever he woke up, you resigned yourself to the little pillow fort you situated for yourself in the cockpit. You drifted off to sleep, affirming in your mind that your Master was going to be okay soon.

You awoke with a gasp and your eyes snap open, your heart racing. Your eyes, scanning the dark, settle on the dark outline of a figure in front of you. Sensing danger, you grab your lightsaber, drawing it and allowing your eyes adjust to the new light.

Squinting through the glow, you find Obi Wan standing above you. You could barely see him, but you could tell he looked better. He stood taller, his shoulders broad in his sleep tunic, he peered down at you with an almost playful glint in his eyes.

Relief floods you. “Oh, Master Kenobi, it’s just you.” You sigh, “I was so worried about you; do you need anything?” You ask, reaching out to his ankle and holding onto it gently.

He laughs darkly. A laugh you don’t recognize; it makes you frown.

This seems to make him smile more. He takes the leg you grabbed on to and kicks it with unusual might, sending you flying back against your pillows, you’re stunned. Arm throbbing in pain, you gawk at him.

“Master Kenobi...?” you breathe; betrayed but your words are cut short. You feel an invisible noose around your neck tighten as he raises a flexed hand in your direction. He steps forward and you slide back, your back hitting the captain’s chair harshly even with the pillows there. Your grip on your lightsaber has loosened and suddenly it was ripped from your hands before you even had the reaction time to adjust your grip. It flew opposite to you at just the flick of his wrist.

Obi wan restrained you with the force, before towering over you once more. At your feet, he loomed, breathing heavy with pure rage.

Then, he dropped to his knees and began slowly crawling up your body, taking his time to run his nose along the sliver of skin that poked out of your lifted shirt, inhaling your skin directly.

He crept his way up to your throat, the hairs of his beard tickling the tender flesh there. You felt his hot breath hit your skin and it made a cold chill strike your heart.

“Do you trust me, darling?” He whispered.

You gulped, the grip he had on you released barely enough let you do that.

“No.” You croaked, tears now sliding down your temples freely.

You felt his smile twitch upward.

“Good.”

Pain. White hot pain seared though you. You choked out another sob as you come to the horrific realization that all you can do is writhe underneath the weight of him and the force. His lips bruising as he drank your boiling hot blood, the red dripping down your clavicle, pooling at the base of your throat, staining his facial hair. Your neck was on fire as he sunk his teeth deeper into your vein. Finally, he releases you and he looks down at you, smiling that same sickening grin. Deep red blood dripped from his mouth onto your face, a few strands of his hair falling out of place, brushing against your forehead. He gazed upon your wrecked and bleeding self, as if he was satisfied with his work. Your eyelids begin to drop, the vision starting to blur around the edges and the last thing you see is your Master hovering above you, diving his mouth to your throat once again before you black out completely. You awoke in your nest of blankets once again, and you almost convince yourself it was all just a horrible dream before the ache in your shoulder and arm returned with a vengeance. In fact, you hurt all over, unbeknownst to you, the venom coursing its way through your system. Master Obi Wan sat in the captain’s seat, he didn’t turn to greet you as you shakily made your way to your feet. “You’re awake.” He says simply, far too casual for the circumstances. “What did you do to me?!” You squeak, wanting it to be a yell but sounding much smaller than you intend. “Only what had to be done.” He still doesn’t face you, he’s busy landing the ship in a deserted field, but you recognize the planet to be Coruscant. “No, no NO!” You find your voice, charging at him and reaching for your lightsaber, only to look down to find it was hooked onto his belt. You go to grab it from him, but he waves his hand and slams you against the wall of the ship, your lower back sharply hitting a control panel. “Now, little padawan, let’s not get too hasty.” He still doesn’t even bother turning to look at you. Like you were nothing but a pest to him, swatting you away like a fly. You fall against the floor and whimper, gazing up at him, you utter one thing. “Why?” You’re panting, and in pain, and shivering. You’re cold and hot and covered in sticky chilled blood, the pulse point on your neck still oozing. Master Kenobi stood, after what seemed like hours, and kneeled in front of you, brushing stray hairs out of your face and tucking them behind your ear. You flinch at the gentle gesture, it being a stark contrast to the new violent way he’d been handling you. It reminded you of him before that crazy man attacked him. The way he usually treated you, but you couldn’t want to be further from him right now. “Don’t you see?” he whispers your name softly; you feel his hot breath on your face, and it smelled like iron. You recoil visibly. Your heart sinks at his next words. “Now we can be together for eternity.”

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #star wars #sorry about this in advance i needed this out of my head and out of my drafts #hope its okay its not betad

[yvtro]

Sorry, I'm sure it's come up in the past but I don't know if it's specifically tagged: Could you describe what you dislike about Cheer? I have issues with it too but I always see people say it's bad but never get to see why, so I'm curious if it aligns with my own interpretation.

tldr, it's all about classism and how it sticks to retconning jason's robin days to make him an 'angry robin,' a take on his personality that was never true in his original characterisation (i talk about it a bit here). not only that, the story even adds up to the already exisitng paradigm to make it look like jason didn't even care about being robin. no one has ever went that far before.

so let's talk about these flashbacks.

in general, they just widely fuel the narrative that frames jason as a “wild” child from the streets who is drawn to violence. the fact that alfred has to tell him that “he should be training or else bruce will be displeased” is so massively out of character for everyone involved. then we have jay saying ugh robin. so not badass. why can’t I just be batboy– which i will not even comment on. jason’s love for robin and how diligent he was in practice were one of his most important traits in the original run. and here? they make him treat robin like a joke, disregard the legacy, and even make some crude comments about dick too. he doesn't even seem to understand the concept. on top of that, he is also fascinated with guns, which is once again adding up to the whole rhetoric that he was always doomed for life as a criminal. this all happens within like the first half of the first issue.

now, to the current timeline and the whole storyline, which:

1. is once again based on the concept of the war on drugs (please spare me all the “it’s a supervillain, it’s not the same,” because the reader WILL and is supposed to draw references to jay’s family background,) and, among the others

2. has jason arguing that a petty thief deserves death because he will never stop. jason todd, whose first meeting with batman was stealing his tyres, and who had enough of social awareness as a child to know that being labeled as a criminal for trying to survive is not right. who was also sensitive and compassionate enough to never hold a grudge toward his neglectful parents (the 80s iterations of catherine and willis todd were not outright abusive, the fact that they couldn’t take care of jason was in many ways caused by the circumstances). jason todd, who died trying to save a woman who was as morally corrupt as they come. but apparently none of that matters in that continuity.

enter bruce, the 1% bruce wayne, who has to wealthsplain to jason that poor people deserve a chance to be rehabilitated. bruce wayne explaining that to jason todd who was homeless as a child, and about whom bruce said that he needed to take him off the streets so that he won’t become a criminal. bruce, who obviously is not plainly classist, but who also doesn't have even an ounce of experience with poverty that jason has. okay.

and see, the thing is, i am willing to compromise with the modern take on jason and agree that it would be interesting for him to come close to what he sought out to destroy. it's not the most novel, but i could see jay who detaches himself from his kindness for the sake of survival. this version of events is ugly, it’s sad, it’s a bit questionable, but dramatic irony makes it appealing enough. (and there's still space for character development there, for jason to realise it) but this is not what zdarsky is doing in 'cheer', since jay's robin days are even more bastardised than they have ever been before. he is shown as some hopeless cynical beast of a child rather than an idealist, a tender-hearted kid that he was.

and then there are also the 'death in the family' flashbacks, which perpetuate the concept that jason got killed because he "did not listen." the flashbacks in which jason solemnly informs the reader that he never trusted bruce nor did bruce trust him, and that "neither of them lived up to the idea of the dynamic duo." and that makes me wonder– if jason never trusted bruce, why would he be so shaken by the fact that bruce did not avenge him? in fact, why would he care about batman post resurrection at all, if his life as robin was so awful?

it’s all such an unnatural characterisation of not only him, but also how people who come from such communities are in general. coincidentally I just reblogged this post by @martyrtodd that I think explains it quite well. people from the lower-economic class tend to focus on giving back and form really close ties with each other. for jason to be so dispassionate about it and focus so much on violence even before his death is an obtuse concept.

#i'm very curious what your thoughts on cheer are though! #and no reason to be sorry i mentioned it vaguely before but that's it! happy to talk about it in more detail:) #i'm not going to lie i was simply not able to focus on b & j 's relationship there #because of how annoyed the whole set up made me #answered #jason todd #jay meta #dc comics

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Some of Us Love You

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Klaus and Ben have a roofside chat. Warnings: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of underage substance abuse, mentions of underage sex Word Count: 625 Ship(s): Klaus Hargreeves/Ben Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: Please read the tags before you continue forward! No suicide ends up happening but this is pretty angsty and dark so if it could trigger you, please proceed with caution. Thank you all for giving this little oneshot a chance! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

The cold night wind bit at his nose, turning his cheeks and ears a brilliant shade of red. It was colder up here than it would be on the ground, the temperature cutting right through the mostly unbuttoned Academy dress shirt that he was wearing and making him boney frame shiver. The cement underneath him dug into his hands in a deliciously painful way, grounding him enough to understand where he was while also signifying the promise that the sidewalk down below held.

“Klaus.”

“Ben.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

He swung his legs back and forth like a child on a bench, carefree and almost giddy. He leaned back and tilted his head up so that he could see the twinkling of the brightest stars that could cut through the light pollution of The City and the low-flying satellites that blinked as they moved across the inky blackness.

He thought about those words for a long time. Technically he didn’t have to do anything, every fork in the road had three choices. The one that he wanted to make, the one that someone else wanted him to make, and the stangnance of not doing either of them. 

After a while, he finally settled on saying, “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“To die? I think that I do,” Ben replied.

Klaus turned his head to the side so that he could see the spectral vision that was his brother. Ben was completely see through and hued in a light blue field. It was a vision of ghosts that Klaus only got when he was this sober, which he hadn’t been for at least a couple of years. He had let most of the substances drain from his system before he had decided to do this though, because he really wanted to feel it. He didn’t want it to be another thing that the adrenaline fueling his body stopped him from really experiencing.

“Surely you have something that you need to live for,” Ben said after taking a second to think about it.

“I don’t. There was just you,” he replied.

“That’s what’s so cool about your power, Klaus. I’m never really gone when you’re sober. And you can see me even when you’re drunk or high too,” Ben said. He reached over so that he could touch the other superhero but his hand passed right through Klaus’ arm.

The other teenager squeezed his eyes shut so that he could resist the urge to start bawling again. He had spent the last several days doing that, mourning a boyfriend that no one else had even known he had. They all assumed that they were best friends, woven together the way that childhood friends or brothers could be, but they were so much more and now it was gone. 

While Ben could follow Klaus around and the two of them could talk, it wasn’t like  it had been before. They couldn’t hold each other like they used to, they couldn’t kiss or touch each other under the covers, they couldn’t pull pranks on their siblings or snark at each other during missions. It was something but it wasn’t enough.

“Can you go one more day, just for me? Please?” Ben asked, his voice so full of emotion and hurt that Klaus couldn’t face him even after he opened his eyes again.

It took another long moment before he got off of the ledge of the Academy roof and took a step back. His hand flickered at his side, desperate to reach out and weave his fingers together with Ben’s like they always used to. He didn’t, knowing that it would put him right back where he was seconds ago.

He wouldn’t, not today. For Ben.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #tua #the umbrella academy #tua fanfiction #the umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #umbrella ben #horrance #horrance fanfiction #oneshot

[wunderlass]

Coda

I hate how it ended for Echo. Here's how I fixed it without them having to spend any more time on the final scene. Thanks, as always, to @maxortecho for the beta work.

The desert air is cold and sharp on Liz’s cheeks, adding to the sting of tears clinging to her skin. She hates how they cloud her vision as she takes in what will be her last sight of Max for nobody knows how long. It could be weeks. Months. Forever.

Dallas is already on the other side of the portal, surrounded by unearthly structures in gleaming crystal. Waiting patiently for Max to join him, for their work to begin.

Max is framed by the stone archway of the portal, dark hair lit by the glow of the strange light filtering through from Oasis. She ought to be fascinated by what’s on the other side of it, but she can’t bear to tear her attention away from Max. He’s stoic, but she sees the sorrow in his eyes. It feels like he can’t look away from her either.

“Guess we have to wait a little bit longer for that road trip,” she whispers, the words hoarse and stricken around the knot in her throat.

He nods, his mouth tight in that way she knows signals that he’s trying to keep his emotions inside. He’s trying to be strong for her sake. “When I get back. We’ll go to the ocean then,” he promises.

The console hums behind them, a warning that its fuel will soon run out. And yet Liz can’t bear to let go of the moment. Of Max. Not yet.

“Do you think there are oceans on Oasis?” she asks, as if her words will slow time and keep Max here with her. “If you’ll get to see those.”

“I guess I’ll find out,” he whispers, and there’s no enthusiasm to it. She understands why. He’s not going to Oasis to explore, to discover what the planet has to offer, the way she would. He can’t do that without her by his side, because he has to come back to her as soon as he can. If Liz was there, they could take their time. They could stand on the shoreline and marvel at pink or yellow or silver water.

Her breath hitches. She’s momentarily stunned by her own cluelessness. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? 

“I could come with you.” The words are out before she has chance to fully think them through. “I could find out with you.”

It’s as if a light has switched on behind his eyes, and his own response is breathless. “Are you sure?”

It doesn’t take a moment to think about it. Beyond that simple idea, the simple resolution of still being able to be with Max, of not being separated by galaxies and light years – there’s all the discovery to be made. A new planet, uncharted by humans. Unvisited and unseen. With him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she says, then adds on, as if Max might need persuading. “I could help. I wouldn’t just be tagging along.”

But Max needs no persuading, his face splitting in a broad smile. “This could be our road trip,” he says, reaching out for her.

She reaches back without thinking, clasping hands. A moment ago they’d been saying their goodbyes, but now both their gazes turn to the portal. It doesn’t need any further discussion. Nothing has ever felt more right to her, except perhaps the moment she’d kissed Max for the first time.

“Ready?” she asks him anyway, taking her first step towards the portal. His mouth lifts in a giddy grin, and she wipes away the remnant of her tears with her free hand.

“Ready,” he agrees. There’s a beat, a silent rhythm between them, then they take that step together, crossing the threshold into another world.

See this is how you make a super quick tweak to the ending and make it happy, if you aren't a complete hack.

#roswell new mexico #rnm spoilers #rnm echo

[elendiliel]

Partners

Last one before I return to the canon events (with the addition of a sassy field-tech)... (By the way, the placeholder tag for this series is now "Misplaced Medic AU"; I will happily accept suggestions for better ones.)

Possible inspiration credits to the usual sources (@justawannabearchaeologist's "TFP Wheeljack in TFA" series here on Tumblr and @blueskyscribeupdates' With A Side Of Rust, both highly recommended).

---

“How’d you learn how to do all this?” Glitch was too wrapped up in “this” to answer Raf’s question straight away, so Wheeljack rephrased it for him. “Yeah, just how does a nice young femme like you learn to intercept Decepticon comms?”

“Intel-bot I know back home.” The dimensionally displaced Autobot’s voicebox was on autopilot while her optics scanned the encrypted data in front of her, looking for the patterns she knew would be there. “Think I’ve mentioned him. Blurr. Assigned to keep an optic on Optimus and his team – probably by Sentinel – but ended up tracking down Megatron’s HQ as well, just in time. Well, his power is speed. Fastest thing on wheels – much to Bee’s annoyance – and talks like Miko sped up. Once ran halfway across the galaxy, probably through the transwarp network, to try to warn Cybertron about a ‘Con double agent.” And would have succeeded had he not run slap bang into said double agent. “But this isn’t a new idea, even on this planet; it’s been done pretty much since you started using radio to communicate. Look up Bletchley Park some time. British Intelligence’s cypher-breaking station during your Second World War. Some fascinating work went on there – thought to have shortened the war by two years and saved millions of lives, and did a lot for human computer science. The codebreakers used everything from pure maths and brute force to imagining the short-cuts a lazy operator, or one in a hurry, might take. Everyone gets sloppy sooner or later – case in point…”

Her digits started to fly over her keyboard as she exploited a weakness she had just found in the encryption of some of the data. She might not be much good at reading faces, frame language, social cues and so on, but sometimes – not always – she could see patterns in other types of information that most others couldn’t, and use that to her advantage. Clear Cybertronian text gradually began to scroll across the screen; she let Ratchet, Raf and Wheeljack analyse it while she worked on decrypting the rest. The process of solving puzzles was more interesting to her than the final solution.

But the solution was still important, which was why she had gone to the trouble of raiding the wrecked Decepticon ship Harbinger for the equipment and intel she needed to intercept ‘Con transmissions. The cyphers had been updated since the ship crashed, of course, but nobot had bothered to change the frequency bands. That was good, as someone – quite possibly Soundwave, now a strong candidate for the title of Glitch’s Least Favourite Decepticon, challenging her universe’s Shockwave – had taken countermeasures against the Autobots’ tracking of Predacon fossils, and Team Prime, outnumbered and outgunned, needed all the help they could get.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Ratchet said as Glitch finally hit another, properly encrypted block of data. “These are engineering specs for something close to a space-bridge, but the destination coordinates here aren’t for Cybertron, or anywhere on Earth – I don’t know where they correspond to.”

“I do.” The fuel in Glitch’s tank and lines had turned to ice. “Sumdac Tower, Detroit, Michigan, the USA, Earth, in the year 2112 – in my reality. Those were my target coordinates the last time I left my Cybertron, when I ended up here instead.”

“That why these specs are so weird?” Wheeljack was letting his inner scientist show as he studied the deciphered intel. “Most of this is like a typical space-bridge, but these elements here…”

“They’re using transwarp technology, I think. I don’t understand it, but I’ve seen enough diagrams – and they got all this from me. That cortical psychic patch. Either the results were duplicated before I fried the lab hard drive, or Knock Out remembered enough.” Glitch hoped for the former possibility. The level of accuracy and detail required to reverse-engineer such complex technology would be best extracted via cortical psychic patch, and Knock Out had been through a great deal already.

“So, what – the ‘Cons are after your reality?” Raf summarised in question form. “Why?”

“I can think of two reasons. One, Energon. When the Allspark was reassembled, we found Energon deposits where fragments had been. That was part of the reason I was back on Cybertron – arranging for it to be extracted with minimal damage to Earth and no corruption on Cybertron if possible. I know Knock Out knows that from the patch. Two, technology. If one junior field-tech’s loadout can cause as much havoc as mine has here, I don’t want to think what the ‘Cons would do with the cutting-edge military gear from home. Or what they’d do to Earth to get at its Energon, or my Cybertron, just in general.” She took a deep, steadying vent. “We have to stop them.”

“We will.” A heavy servo descended on her shoulder, and she looked up into a pair of kind, wise, weary blue optics, much closer than usual. While she’d been distracted by data, the rest of Team Prime had gathered round, and Optimus Prime was now kneeling behind her. “The tragedy that befell our Cybertron, and the fate the Decepticons intended for this Earth, must not happen again.”

“Do you have any indication of when this space-bridge will be completed?” Ultra Magnus focused, as ever, on the practicalities of the situation.

Glitch scanned the intel, realising that it was a week old. She’d intercepted far more than she had time to study. “Stars, today! They must be reusing components from their existing bridge, or we’d have heard about another lot of thefts.”

“And I have a location.” Ratchet was already programming the groundbridge – or trying. “Blast, it’s shielded. I’ll get us as close as I can.”

“This could be your way home,” Arcee murmured to Glitch as Ratchet and Raf set up the bridge. The smaller two-wheeler hadn’t even thought of that, and knew she couldn’t get distracted by the idea.

“Let’s – play that part by audial. The important thing is keeping the ‘Cons out of that space-bridge. Which side of it I’m on when it closes is neither here nor there.” Arcee didn’t have time to argue with that before the groundbridge operators finished their task and Prime called for the Autobots to transform and roll out.

Like a previous Decepticon space-bridge, that one was being built next to an Energon mine, and therefore close to a fuel source. Unlike that other one, it was heavily guarded; Megatron clearly learned from at least some of his mistakes. Had it not been for an otherworldly blue-green glow coming from a distant chamber, the battalion of Vehicon soldiers between it and the raiding party would have indicated a trap. But Glitch knew that wasn’t the case the moment she set ped in the mine and a comm frequency band she hadn’t used in months sprang to life.

She barely noticed the Vehicons taking aim at them, or Prime’s attempt to find a peaceful resolution. All her attention was on a familiar, beloved voice that made her spark hum with joy. “…head’s trying to figure out what’s going on, and the Professor’s on his way up now – had to get out of some meeting or other. It’s probably not about to explode, but that’s about all we can tell so far… OK, will do. Bumblebee out.”

As Prime’s negotiations failed (which he must have known would almost certainly happen) and both sides opened fire, Glitch let her automated subroutines (less effective than her conscious mind, but competent enough) take over for the battle, focusing on talking to her partner for the first time in too long. “Bee?”

“Glitch?” Bee sounded as happy as she felt. “Where are you? Are you OK? What happened?”

“I’m fine.” Relatively speaking. Face-to-face, she’d have been more honest, but there just wasn’t time. “The space-bridge home from Cybertron malfunctioned and sent me to another universe.”

“That tracks,” a deeper, almost-as-familiar voice broke in. “This thing’s been buggy ever since the Professor and Powell sent that Tux guy through it. Good to hear you’re OK, little buddy.”

“Good to hear from you too, Bulkhead. Are you both at the Detroit space-bridge?” Close to the connection the ‘Cons were forging between the universes; that would explain why she could hear them but not Optimus.

“Yeah. It started acting up a little while ago. Triggered the alarms I put in after it took Fanzone off to Cybertron. I couldn’t tell what was wrong with it, but now I know where you are, the readings make sense. You’re coming back, right?”

“If I can, but the Decepticons are the ones opening the portal. We’re trying to stop them using it. “We” being another team of Autobots, by the way, including alternate versions of you two, Prime and Ratchet.”

“There’s another Bumblebee? Should I be jealous?” Glitch laughed even as she deflected a point-blank blaster round. She’d missed being teased like that. “Not in the slightest. You know where my spark lies. Now, can you tell how long it’ll take for that portal to be fully open?” She was studying her surroundings with a mathematician’s optic, estimating how much progress the Autobots had made already, how many Vehicons remained, how long it would take to reach and secure the bridge. She could see it now, a hybrid between the circular tunnels of that universe and the two-pronged structures she knew from home, enclosing an orb of blue-green light that grew brighter with every passing nanoklik. But could she and the others get to it in time?

Bulkhead answered her question, and the flame of hope in her chest was replaced by ice-cold steel.

“Shut it down.” The words were ground glass in her voicebox, and saying them felt like tearing out her own spark, but her duty was clear. “Shut it down and make sure no-one can come through from this universe.”

“Have you lost your motherboarding mind?” Bee spent too much time with their Ratchet. Come to that, so had Glitch. “I’m not going to give up a chance of seeing you again.”

“You’ll have to. I can’t get there in time. The Decepticons will use that portal, invade our home and start by killing you.” Now there was an image that wasn’t leaving her processor any time soon – Bee facing down a Vehicon squad, maybe stinging one or two, before being shot down without mercy, his colours already gone by the time his sparking body hit the tower roof. That won’t happen. It can’t.

“We’ve kicked plenty of Decepticon skidplate before. We’re a match for those guys, right?” Bee’s confidence, which on any other solar-cycle would make her smile, almost quenched her spark.

“Wrong. The ‘Cons here would eat ours for breakfast – no, more like a mid-morning snack. The Autobots are much better armed and far more experienced than us and they’re barely holding their own. You won’t stand a chance.” If Glitch could cry, she would have been in floods. “Please. I want to see you, more than I can say, but I need you to be safe. And don’t even think about coming over here. If there’s another way, I’ll find it, I promise, but – I can’t lose you. Not again.” Her optics rested on Wheeljack’s grenade, still on his hip, and her resolve hardened. Take it off him, activate it, use her magnets to throw it into the space-bridge infrastructure – yes, it could be done. She’d be killing who knew how many Vehicons, but for her home – for Bee – she would do it. Whether she could live with herself afterwards, of course, was another matter, but not yet relevant. “Shut it down, or I will.”

Bee was silent for an uncharacteristically long moment. “All right, you win. This time.” Bulk must have agreed; the portal started to fade away, much faster than it had brightened, as he terminated the connection.

“See you on the other side.” When would she next get the chance to play musical quotations with someone on her level? Soon, I trust.

“’Til we meet again.” The line went dead, and a wave of grief swept over the tiny Autobot, though she knew her loved ones were alive and well. She was dimly aware of the space-bridge operators frantically trying to reopen the portal, comming for instructions, but Bulk knew what he was doing. The gateway between universes remained firmly closed, and eventually somebot (probably Megatron; Glitch was vaguely surprised he hadn’t been there himself) ordered a retreat, leaving the Autobots alone with their “prize”.

“Well, I suppose we can’t leave this lying around for the ‘Cons to get their hands on again,” Arcee said, referring to the bridge. Then she looked at Glitch, remembering again what it meant to her. “Can we?”

Glitch barely needed to compute the answer. “No. It’s too risky, even by my standards.”

“Well, in that case…” Wheeljack drew his grenade and prepared to throw it – only for Prime to raise a questioning optic-brow at him, which prompted him to turn to Ultra Magnus, his direct superior. “Permission to destroy, sir?”

“Permission granted, soldier,” Ultra Magnus replied – after a brief, almost apologetic glance at the miniature medibot. As though she hadn’t been prepared to do what Wheeljack did and blow the thing to scrap, without clearing the area first.

Nobot spoke much as they returned to base, or as Ratchet fussed over various scrapes and dents and he and Glitch fixed everybot up, or as they consumed their evening rations (it was getting late and the humans had already had supper) and headed off to power down for the night. Glitch didn’t enter stasis, though, partly because she had a project to finish, but mostly because she just couldn't switch off.

“Mind if I come in?” Glitch, who had been leaning back in her chair – which could convert into a berth – trying to clear her processor, jolted upright as a familiar human face appeared around the curtain that marked off her private area.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep, Miko?” It was close to midnight and a “school” night.

“Shouldn’t you?” Fair point. And Glitch had done the same at Miko’s relative age, not so long before.

“I suppose so. All right, I won’t tell if you won’t.” Miko came in and climbed up to sit on Glitch’s desk. “Bulkhead told me what happened earlier. I’m sorry you’re stuck here.” Sorry as in sorrowful, Glitch thought, not as in apologetic. It wasn’t Miko’s fault by any stretch of the imagination.

“It was always very much on the cards. On the plus side, my other team know where I am now, I know at least two of them are OK and that it’s possible to get back, and the Decepticons didn’t get through.” Glitch’s digits traced the newly repainted band of yellow and black at her wrist. “Going home would’ve been nice, but it wasn’t to be. ‘Sides, I hate leaving a job unfinished.”

“That makes sense.” Miko looked at Glitch’s wrist for a little while. “Bulk also said you were talking to your partner most of the battle. The other Bumblebee, right?” Glitch nodded. “He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

“That’s the nearest human term, I think. On my Cybertron, maybe the others’ as well, we’d say we’re courting.”

“Isn’t that an old word for when you want to get married?”

“Bonded, we call it, but yes. Though that’s still some way in the future for Bee and me, if we get there at all.” The way things were going, that wasn’t a certainty by any means.

“How long’ve you guys been together?” Someone who didn’t know Miko well would have been surprised by her patience and kindness. The fearless Wrecker could be remarkably gentle and perceptive at times. She’d seen that Glitch was hurting and refusing to burden anyone else with her problems, at least until morning, so she was forcing help upon her in the nicest way possible.

“Less than a year, but I’ve been in love with him since we were cadets. I only found out recently he felt the same way about me. We put our duty and each other’s careers first – until Optimus basically sent us on a date.” That made them both laugh, all too briefly.

“What’s he like?”

Glitch tilted her head, trying to find the right words. “One of the bravest, most loyal people I know. Clever and kind in his own way. Which is a good way, I hasten to add, just – not a usual way. He’ll never back down from a fight unless forced, especially if someone he cares about is in danger. Constantly beats me at video games, and watches my favourite shows with me. Finds it hard to be quiet, but he’ll listen to me ramble when most people wouldn’t.” She sighed. “I don’t have all the right words to describe him. He’s just – Bee.” Her beloved, and maybe, one day, her Conjunx Endura.

“Sounds like you two were made for each other.” Miko smiled. “I hope you get back to him one day.”

“So do I.” Glitch decided to change the subject. She could only take so much “talk about your feelings” in one session. “Oh, while you’re here…” She opened a drawer in her desk and brought out a flimsy, human-sized folder, the pages within still warm from the printer. “It’s a bit early, but – tanjoubi omedetou, Miko-chan.”

“Arigatou, Glitch-chan.” Miko’s eyes widened as she opened her birthday present. Glitch had composed a piece of music for her, the kind of metal the human girl loved, scored for electric guitar and drums. (She usually hated writing for the guitar – the extra notation system was so confusing – but for Miko she had made the effort.) It had no lyrics, words not being the field-tech’s strong point, but that wasn’t unusual in that genre. The guitar mostly led the melody, but the drums were always there in support, and at times the instruments traded places – just as Miko had had to protect or help Bulkhead, the way he so often protected and helped her. It had been written as a gift for Miko alone, but the human and Cybertronian Wreckers could not be separated, and it had felt wrong to try.

The piece was simply entitled, “Partners”.

#transformers prime #transformers animated #fanfic #autobot oc #tfa bumblebee #miko nakadai #misplaced medic au

[ducknotinarow]

[2k3 RaphDon] "I need to rest."

| Send "I need to rest" for your muse to lay their head down in my muse's lap

It was rare when the lair was quite, not often something to ever happen really. Master Splinter and Leo went off for some training and Mikey tagged along. More like was dragged along. Punishment for skipping out on training the other night so he could sneak and watch some movie from the fire escapes of one building that let him see right in to another. Wasn't the first time why Mikey knew he could get away with it. Well the part of watching that movie not so much skipping training. So just left Raph and Don alone. More like left Raph alone in the lair.

Donatello was busy working away like always, and Raph? eh he didn't even see the reason to interrupt them. As he stood in the threshold of their lab not quite in the mood to be ignored, he just walked by Donatello leaving him to whatever he was busy with now. Some revamp of something or another. Sometimes a lot of what they said just went in and out of his ear. Raphael paused to look over the tool not in Don's touch at the time and snagged them. Safe bet they didn't need them if not over on the work bench before he made his way to where he kept his cycle. Just a ways past Donnie's own work space. Slightly whistling to himself.

Donnie wasn't the only one that got motor oil and grease on their hands after all. Donnie was just the only other one Raph trusted to touch his bike. They did built it after all. And there was just something special about that. Sure Raph got annoyed that Donnie kept so occupied all the damn time. But the bike? The bike was enough of a gesture to say 'I thought about you.' Raph recalled talking Donnie's ear off about a motorcycle the first time he saw one in person. Sure on TV too but it was the first time in person that really caught his attention. So when Don said they had made something just for him and it was this bike? Well it was kind of the little sign Raphael needed to see his partner did listen to him. And it was why he took such good care of it, in turn. Donnie showed love in their own actions after all.

Well and tinkered to make it faster. Hey sometimes him and Casey got into races up top and it would clearly be an insult to Donnie if Raphael lost! Nah can't have that at all. Clearly, and not because Raph was a sore loser. Maybe a little bit of that. Sat on the brick floor as he been busy messing around with the frame of his bike. Making it thinner would help make it go faster but he just could beat taking it off. Donnie even bothered to make sure it could be his favorite color? Maybe he could mess with the fuel pump instead? Though before he could even get a real start he heard the sound of feet against the floor. Sighed to himself go figure Donnie suddenly needed one of the tools Raph had gone and snagged just then uh?

Moving to sit more comfortably, as he fell to rest on his hunches waiting for Donnie to come and ask for whatever he was in search for. "Finally got ya nose outta the blue prints and gears?" Raph greeted them by. "Gonna wind up gettin' high off the fumes you always around. Startin' to think that is what your up too actually." he teased a bit, as he expected Donatello to toss in some snide comment himself. But nothing come up. Raphael titled his head to the side a moment as he looked them over.

"Hey, you alright?" Answer given when Don seemed uncaring about the fact he had to lower himself down to the floor moving lie down as they set thier head on top of Raphael’s thighs. Raph leaned back a bit so he could look down at Donnie.

"I need to rest."

Humming slight, he reached out to pull their mask down so to see how bad the eye bags looked. "How many days have you gone without sleep?" The lack of an answer only has the red banded turtle flick his tongue against his teeth to make a simple 'tak' sound. That held all his disappointment in the single sound. Moving hus head to gently stroke over the cruve of Don's head, though. Hoping to lure them into sleep.

"Idiot, ya not a manchie if ya just went to bed you would have this issue Donnie." He knows he is basically speaking to wall at the moment. "Couldn't have done this when I was least on the couch?" He complained but as he moved to least lean against his bike for some support it was clear he had no intentions on moving anytime soon. Donnie was lucky he loved him is all he knew.

#muse| raphael hamato #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ I'll take your bad days with your good ♥︎ aflockoffeathers] #I need a rest meme #meme reply #ic reply #stay queued #((I had need for raphdon ;3; let this idiot fucking rest for once!!))

[mynewjerseycaraccident]

7 Things To Consider When You Are Buying A 3d Printer

Shopping for a 3D printer isn't a joke. In spite of the learning and fun that we can get from the use of a 3D printer choosing the right one is always a challenge. There are tons of free cad software available with each has their own pros and cons. After reading a blog which recommended it for novices, I found it difficult to buy my first 3D printer. Well I was not totally incorrect, but I do wish I could have done more research before getting my first 3D printer. I've compiled a list of factors that every enthusiast and enthusiast must consider before deciding on a printer that fits their needs.

Volume of the print:

Every printer has its limitation and the print size it can produce. The printer must be capable of printing larger objects. Anet A6, a starter printer, is able to print objects that measure 220x220x240mm (W LxH). This isn't so large if you think of printing objects like real life bust models, robotic arms and so on. When you purchase the 3D printer, be sure you check the maximum print size.

LEVELING MANUALLY OR AUTOMATICAL of the bed:

Leveling can be one of the most painful thing you need to do in an industrial 3d printer. It is a process where you need to level the heating bed to a perfect distance to the nozzle through out the bed's surface. If you attempt this manually, it may be very painful. Although it may be enjoyable at first, the fun disappears after a few attempts. The auto leveling feature is an excellent solution. It levelizes the heating bed automatically and allows you to immediately begin printing. While this will help you save time and effort in the long-term, it comes at a steep price.

Types of FILAMENTS to be USED:

Filaments are considered as fuel for 3D printers. It is the material which is heated before being extruded through the nozzle to print desired objects. There are a wide variety of 3D printing filaments. But a specific 3D printer tend to have limitation and only work with a limited number of kinds of filaments. Below is the table I found in the internet. It lists the different types of filaments and their characteristics.

NOZZLE SIZE

This is the part which is the one that extrudes the filament that has been melted. To print the object you want This Nozzle can be moved around the X, Y, and Z Axes. The sizes of nozzles used in 3D printers may differ between printers. Common nozzle sizes are 0.2, 0.3, 0.4 and 0.2mm. The most popular size for nozzles is 0.4mm which creates excellent prints. Additionally, Nozzles made of various materials like Brass, Steel, Titanium and others are utilized in 3D printers. Printers with multiple extruders can be utilized to print multiple objects by using various materials. Multi-extruder printers can be costly however they're extremely enjoyable to work with.

RESOLUTION TO PRINT:

When quality is important to you, then print resolution is something you'll be incredibly interested in. Print resolution determines how clear your print will be. There are two kinds of resolutions you have to consider: Resolution XY and Vertical. The XY resolution refers to the maximum distance that the motor of a stepper can travel for a given step. Vertical resolution, also known as layer height, refers to the thickness of the material that is used to print the object. The lesser the resolution greater the quality and the details of the print. Prints with lower resolution objects are smoother, but this is at the cost of printing with more filament and taking longer time to print.

SAFETY:

3D printers come with a significant amount of risk. This includes hot extruders, Hot bed, moving mechanical components, toxic fumes caused by melting certain filaments, and so. It's crucial to take these factors in to consideration if you are buying 3D printers for your children or have kids in your house. You can choose enclosed high resolution 3d printer that will safeguard the user from getting hurt. However, closed frame 3D printers are expensive tag comparing to its open frame counter components.

COMMUNITY:

You are going to need plenty of assistance in the beginning of 3D printing. Imagine having acquaintances who have tried the 3D printer you bought! They can help you out when setting up the printer and resolve any problems you might encounter. This is what the community is all about. It's always a good idea to purchase a 3D printers with a huge community behind. Forums, websites and social media forums are great ways to connect with the community and get assistance or seek advice with your 3D printing journey.

[chicagofanfictionfan]

Vivo Per Te (I live for you) Part 2

Fuck his head hurt. He tried to take stock of any injuries before he moved. Looking around at what was left of the chopper, he froze. Christ. Straining to reach Tony’s neck, he was relieved when he felt a pulse. Realizing he was still buckled in, Homer released the belt and went closer to take a cursory glance at Tony. Knowing that there was a lot he needed to do, he headed towards the others intent on checking on Bones and the three SEALS. Reaching Bones he felt for his pulse, sighing he made the sign of the cross for his fallen friend and brother in arms. Gently removing the man’s dog tags, he placed them around his neck and said, “You will always be remembered Bones. Our friend and our brother, we will miss you.”

Moving first to the SEAL commander to feel for his pulse, the man started to stir.

“Sir, Commander Richer can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Can I check you over?”

“Go ahead, son.”

Doing a cursory once over and finding nothing major he asked, “Do you have any pain other than your head?”

“Just my chest, but I can tell that’s from the belt. Captain DiNozzo?”

“Out cold right now and I want to look at everyone before moving him”.

“Volunteered for this fool hardy mission and look what it got him.”

“Yes sir. But you know how he is”, allowing a small smile. “Seems to me if you’d keep your ass out of hotspots, he wouldn’t need to pick you up”.

“Can’t argue with that soldier. Let’s check on the others and get off this bird.”

“Just your two men sir. Bones didn’t survive.”

“Oh hell. I’m sorry son.”

“I know sir. We’ll drink to his life later, right now let’s get moving.”

“I’ll check on my men, start gathering what we’re taking with us so we can go.” Homer nodded.

The Commander heading to his first SEAL, Lieutenant Sam Ginny and could see immediately he didn’t survive. “Shit. You were a good man Ginny.” He removed the man’s dog tags, placing them around his neck as Homer had done for his own fallen friend.

Moving on to Lieutenant Black and finding a pulse, he tried to get the young soldier to stir. Gently patting the man’s cheek, he called his name. “Lieutenant Black can you hear me?”

Repeating this a few times before the man stirred. “Yes sir. What happened?”

“Seems that a missile decided to fly up our ass son. Do you hurt anywhere?”

“Just my head sir.”

“You more than likely bonked it upon impact.”

“Lieutenant Ginny sir?”

“He didn’t make it son.” The young soldier bowed his head, made the sign of the cross, and uttered a small prayer.

“Grab your gear and Ginny’s, we may need that. I’m going to grab this young soldier’s”, gesturing to Bones. “Go sit by that tree over there and we will meet you there shortly.”

“Yes, sir.” Grabbing his gear as well as his friend he hastened to the tree as ordered.

The Commander looked at Homer. “Have everything?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Take those bags sir, so that I can lift the Captain without aggravating any injury.” The SEAL Commander was unable to hide the smile at the protectiveness the young soldier was showing his Captain. But he knew DiNozzo and his men well and wasn’t a bit surprised. He’d seen their loyalty and respect for that man from the beginning.

Smelling fuel at the same time Homer did, they realized that their time frame had moved up quite a bit and they needed their asses off the bird immediately.

Homer grabbing DiNozzo with far less care then he wanted, prayed he was not causing greater injury, as he threw him over his shoulder and hurried out of the chopper. The SEAL Commander was just a few steps ahead. Reaching the tree, he gently placed DiNozzo down as they heard the boom.

“We don’t have a lot of time. That will bring people. If we can get out of here and wipe our trace, it’s possible they will think we died.” The Commander stated.

Looking at the sun, Homer made a calculation. “We need to head north to Khartoum. There are safe places for Americans.”

Nodding in agreement, “We’ll figure out how far that is later. Can you carry the Captain for a bit?”

“As long as it takes sir.”

Smiling at the answer, “Ok. Lieutenant Black, take this blanket,” Pulling it out of his pack, “and as we walk erase our trace by dragging and waving.”

“Yes sir.”

“We’ll stop as soon as we can safely. I know that the Captain needs looked at.”

Homer gently picked up his Captain, began walking, followed by the SEAL Commander carrying two bags, and last the Lieutenant with two bags and dragging the blanket. They walked that way for a good three hours going by the sun and stopped when they found a small copse of a type of Ficus tree laden with edible fruit.

Laying the Captain down, Homer immediately started to look him over while the Commander and Lieutenant gathered some fruit and kept watch. Assessing the damage, he knew the Captain had a concussion, two broken ribs, massive bruising on his chest, damage to his knee and a broken arm. None of his bruising led him to believe that he had any internal injuries.

Looking in his medic bag he took out the wrap and grabbing a fallen stick splinted the broken arm and then wrapped his knee to keep the swelling down. As he splinted the arm, he heard Tony whispering and moaning.

“Birdman. Come on, you gotta wake up for me a little, I need to know you’re ok.”

Tony tried to open his eyes but was unable to. “I know you’re trying, do it for Dante. You know he’s home worried to death, do it for him Birdman.” This time a sliver of green is seen briefly before slamming shut.

Sighing Homer knew it wasn’t that uncommon, but still when they were nowhere near proper care, he’d have liked a somewhat larger sign that Tony was ok. Worried, there was not much more he could do. He watched as Tony whimpered and started to get agitated. Trying to calm the man down to prevent further injury, he spoke soothing words but nothing was working.

“Son, his mind isn’t here. He’s reliving some horror elsewhere. If he has seen half the stuff I have, I can only imagine what it is. Has he had some bad missions?”

“Yes sir. A few. Though I believe that I know which one this is.” Homer looked up at the Commander and tried to gauge whether or not he would be understanding. Tony was starting to get more anxious and his mumbling was becoming more fearful.

“Son, I can set your mind at ease right now. I have more respect for that man there than some of my own people. He has proven himself worthy of such respect and my trust. I will take his secrets to the grave with me.”

Nodding Homer pulled out Tony’s dog tags and the Commander saw the ring.

Smiling he looked at Homer. “Someone special?”

As he continued to undo the dog tags to remove the ring, he gave a brief explanation. “They went through something horrific together and alone for about a year and a half. They were all each other had. And if I may be honest, they are each other’s life. That situation touched them in ways I can’t imagine nor do I want to, but they survived.” Taking the ring and refastening the dog tags the Lieutenant looked puzzled.

“That will help him?”

Homer nodded. “I believe so.” Placing the ring on Tony’s finger, he turned it round and round wanting to make sure he could feel it. “Feel that Tony? It’s your ring. I was there when you got this and I know what it means to the both of you. Feel it…hang on and fight for him. He needs you.” They watched as Homer kept twisting the ring and Tony calmed, finally settling down.

“How does that work sir?”

“If I had to guess, subconscious memory. He knows what that ring represents, what it means to him as well as what the other person does. He feels the ring and it takes him back to being safe, something the bearer of I’m guessing a matching ring gives him. It’s an unbreakable bond between the two of them, forged in hell, but they made it through together, survived depending solely on each other and that bound them together tighter than you can imagine.”

The Lieutenant just looked on in awe.

At that moment, Tony began having trouble breathing and Homer could see his chest collapse. “Shit!” Grabbing his bag, he opened the alcohol and doused Tony’s side at the same time he grabbed the sterile wrapped tubing and ripped the package open. Grabbing the packaged scalpel and ripping it open, he immediately sliced a hole in Tony’s side and placed the tubing inside. Tony’s breathing evened out and they all began to breathe easier.

“We need to get him medical attention now. This area is not the place to be with a hole in your side, there’s almost no way he won’t get an infection.”

“We’ll leave at dusk; it will be cooler and give us more cover. We’ll have to make a stretcher of sorts; with that injury, carrying him is not an option. I figure best guess we’re 60 miles from a safe zone in Khartoum. We won’t reach it until tomorrow unless we can steal a ride, so we’ll do the best we can son.”

“Yes sir.”

#Anthony DiNozzo #Ziva David #Abby Sciuto #Ducky Mallard #Jethro Gibbs #Jimmy Palmer #Leon Vance #Timothy McGee #Original Characters

[angelprinz]

HEY HEY LAVENN cosmos is here with another delicious piss thirst tehe

TAGS: gn! reader, noncon/rape, piss, public sex, exhibitionism if you look hard, a sprinkle of petplay & edging, usage of petnames (baby, darling, pup, sweetheart, whore)

there's no use in struggling, the corrupted harbinger has already started to take a liking towards you

sweet possessive childe who loves to purposefully show off his baby in public. each stare of lust from every stranger eggs him on sure, but it only fuels his possession even further. after every nuisance battle that he's tasked with on the job you'll be there for him as a stress reliever, ready to get fucked on the go <3 he's a big fan of public sex too. forcing you to grind on him behind screen folders while there's some meeting going on. if he's dissatisfied with your performance he'll force his cock into you :(( the mere feeling of his thick length forcing it's way inside is enough to have a loud moan slip out of you, exactly like he wanted. he doesn't mind that people can hear you, passer-bys potentially knowing that his sweetheart is getting raped in public? oh what a wonderful thought. he won't even get charged if he got caught in the act, the fatui would just cover up for him and he'll carry on with his so called "crime". making love to you in the only way he knows how and the only way that he enjoys it, shouldn't have a penalty right?

speaking of public, a new kink that he recently discovered is piss! specifically, you on all fours wagging your cum filled hole like a dog, making you beg to piss on the floor after hours of making you hold it in. he doesn't even let you piss properly most of the time, he just edges you until you can't take it anymore and start to trickle piss down your already cum stained pants! he swears he could just orgasm right then and there, hell maybe he'll use it as lube before fucking you raw right behind some shady houses. before that though, he enjoys licking the piss off your legs while whispering "good job" or "good pup" to you </3

he also adores using you as a urinal whenever he needs it. say after a dinner date at liyue harbor, he asks you to excuse yourself to the bathroom first so you can strip all of your normal clothes to reveal the slutty lingerie he specially ordered just for you. it barely covers anything, the strings and silky lace holding it together perfectly hugs your frame, making you look even better than the 5 star meal that you had earlier. he thinks its a shame that soon it'll be covered in nothing but his seed and/or urine, yet he still does it every single time because he loves you so very much :(( he wants nothing more than to see his baby absolutely covered in his love.

his piss is clear, slighty warm, and is always accompanied by long groans and strings of "fuck fuck fuck" as you drink it all like a good whore. you've gotten used to the saltiness that the taste is practically imprinted in your system. ah.. a look of endearment and pride is plastered on his face as he looks down at his darling being so obedient, so loyal, and oh so willing to be his little bitch.

from yours truly,

— 🌌 anon ❤︎

a/n: went on a binge read of your other blog and i thought I'd let this out from my stash seeing how much you like our beloved harbringer hehe, hope you enjoy it !!

～(つˆДˆ)つ｡♡

WUUUUWUUUUU WUUUUU COSMOS BABY YOU YOU!!!! wahhhhh wahhhh i'm so so spoilt, nonnie's making me teary from love n admiration !!!! MY MY WATERSPORTS HYDRO KING TARTAGLIAAAA !!!! want want his pee sm even if i say no <333

my anonnie luvs give me the yummiest asks EVER !!!! so so many kisses for your lovely writing cosmos, i'm forever indebted to your mind for coming up with this !!!

#cosmos anon <3 #childe <3 #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #tw. dark content #genshin x reader #childe smut #childe x reader #tw. noncon #tw. water sports #tw. piss #tartaglia smut #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #gi smut

[salazarslytherin]

midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)

requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here

summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night

part two here

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him

word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)

a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx

☯︎ join tag list here

Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.

However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.

A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.

⚔︎

Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.

Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.

The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.

It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.

However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.

⚔︎

You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.

Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.

Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.

You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.

Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.

The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.

The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?

⚔︎

Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.

Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.

Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.

The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.

You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.

After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.

⚔︎

The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.

However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.

"What the fuck?"

You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Oh."

Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.

"Pour me a cup?"

The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.

Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.

"'m surprised you're down here."

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.

"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."

A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.

"I–what?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."

You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.

"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."

You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.

"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."

An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.

"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.

"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."

A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.

"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."

You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.

"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"

You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.

"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."

You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.

"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."

Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.

"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."

Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.

⚔︎

After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.

While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.

Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.

Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.

It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.

⚔︎

Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.

George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.

You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.

Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.

Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.

"Y/N?"

You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.

You should have known you weren't that lucky.

Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.

"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"

⚔︎

Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.

Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.

Tranquility was what the scene spelt.

In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.

Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.

Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.

You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.

Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.

"Why are you following me."

Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.

"Why are you running away from me?"

Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.

"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"

You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.

But of course, fate never let you have your way.

You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.

"I never ran away from you."

Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.

"Y/N, I'm talking to you."

The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.

"Well that's a first."

Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.

But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.

Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.

Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.

You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.

"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?

Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.

"I–"

"You know how much that hurt?"

You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.

"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"

Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.

Ashamed.

"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."

Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.

"And you know the worst fucking part?"

Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.

"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."

"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."

The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.

Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.

Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.

You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.

"I, I was afraid."

Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.

"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."

It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.

"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."

You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.

"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."

"I wasn't a kid!"

"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."

Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.

"But you never stopped..."

Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.

"Are you being serious?"

His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.

"As serious as I could be Y/N."

Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.

Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.

Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.

The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.

Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.

Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.

"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.

"Only the best for my girl."

Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?

Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.

His girl.

⚔︎

The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.

The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.

“Can I?”

Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.

One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.

“Yes, I need you.”

You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.

Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.

“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”

Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.

The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.

“May, may I?”

He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.

You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.

“Are you... a virgin?”

The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.

“No, I’m not.”

His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.

It didn’t matter. You were with him now.

He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.

Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.

His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.

“Are y’okay?”

You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.

“Yes, just, one second.”

Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.

He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.

“Faster.”

Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.

You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.

Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.

“Are you close baby?”

A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.

One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.

His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.

Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.

But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.

As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.

Yet he still never relented.

As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.

With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.

Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.

Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.

Something you didn’t want to lose either.

⚔︎

The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.

When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.

In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.

“Did you regret that?”

The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.

His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.

“No. Did you?”

The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.

“Of course not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.

“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.

“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.

“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”

You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.

Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.

You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”

part two out now x

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