#High-quality Lead Flashing Roll

[jjkamochoso]

Pretty as a Picture

Fluff

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

When you’re exploring Marley with Levi and co., you find yourself enthralled with some new technology…

Warnings: slight cussing

When you and the others left for Marley, you had no idea what you were getting yourselves into. You were terrified that the outside world was going to be a vision of disaster and leave your high expectations completely unmet. However, when the boat began to dock at the port and you got a glimpse of the bustling city, you practically had stars in your eyes.

“Hange! This is so exciting! Look at all the new developments!” you gushed, taking in the foreign sights. They agreed wholeheartedly, rambling about certain things they had read about over the years that were going to be investigated today. Levi wanted to roll his eyes at your over the top excitement, but he had to admit he was very curious about life in Marley as well. As the boat started letting people off, you nervously ran your fingers over your outfit, desperately trying to straighten out the high quality fabric of your disguise.

“Are you trying to impress these people or something? Stop fussing. You look fine,” Levi said, leading the way off the boat without giving you a second glance. You looked at Hange, who just shrugged their shoulders and ran after Levi. You and the Survey Corps captain were in the newer stages of a relationship. You had known him for years, rising up the ranks together, and had shared a close bond for most of that time. Not too long ago, you both realized your relationship held the element of attraction for one another and after an awkward confession from the both of you, your deep companionship turned into a budding romance. It was all new territory for both parties, neither of you having much experience in the dating department, and the two of you were trying to figure out the right balance between your old selves and new title as lovers. You tried not to worry too much; Levi didn’t seem the type to break up with someone. If he chose to be with you in a romantic way after being your friend for so long, you’d most likely be together long after your bodies were consumed by the soil of your shared grave.

You hurried off the boat, your party waiting for you with anxiousness to get the trip started. On solid ground once more, Levi took his usual spot next to you. You smiled internally at the gesture. This relationship would have no hand holding (for the foreseeable future), but his closeness, akin to a guard dog, was better than that. Out of the corner of your eye came a flash and both of your heads whipped around to see what it was.

“Hange!” You pointed to the area from which it came, “What is that?”

“That’s a camera! It makes photographs like the one we saw in Eren’s basement,” they explained.

“So cool,” you breathed out. “What I wouldn’t give to have one.”

You suddenly found yourself being dragged over to the camera, Levi having an iron grip on the extra fabric of your sleeve.

“My partner wants one photograph, please,” he told the man working the contraption.

The man laughed a little, clearly figuring out you weren’t from the area. “One photograph, huh? That’s quite alright.” He turned to address you. “You can sit right here and pose.”

You nodded, slightly nervous but trembling with excitement as Levi handed the man the money.

“I’m going to count to three and when the flash is over, you’ll be good to go.”

You weren’t quite sure exactly what to do with your body as the man started his count but when you saw Levi watching you intently, you relaxed and broke out into the biggest smile. The flash went off and you were told to wait a few minutes for the photograph to be ready.

“Oh! Sir? May I please have one more? I would like one of my boyfriend,” you said, looking at Levi expectantly.

His eyes went wide, shaking his head. “No way. Your memory isn’t that shitty to where you’ll need one of these to remember what I look like, is it?”

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes and poutiest face you could muster. “Please, Levi? For me?”

He sighed, giving the cameraman more money. “Fine. But you have to be in it with me, brat.”

You cheered when he stood next to you, you on the seat once more, and you could tell he was nervous.

“Just relax and look at the circle in front of you. You don’t have to smile or anything if you don’t want, just think of a positive memory or place. That way it’ll look natural.”

As the man did his countdown, Levi frantically tried his best to look comfortable and right before the flash went off, he knew exactly what to do.

During your wait for the photos you heard commotion from the group about “ice cream” so of course you bounded over, Levi trailing behind you. When you got your hands on the treat, you took a big bite of it which was a huge mistake.

“It’s so cold! My teeth! Ouch!” you exclaimed, your mouth open as you tried to fan it out. Levi watched you complain to the teens that they didn’t give you a fair warning that it was freezing, a small smile on his face.

“Tch, give me that. You’re going to drop it,” he said, taking the cone from you. Learning from you the wrong way to eat it, he snuck a taste using just the tip of his tongue. It was cold, sweet, and a total waste of money—but if you liked it, he would gladly bring home the entire cart and the recipe. With plans to meet back up with everybody after you got your photographs, you and Levi headed over to the cameraman.

“That was very kind of you to let me get those taken,” you told him. “And I love that you did one with me. That means a lot, you know.”

“It’s no problem,” he muttered, eyeing every passerby so that they didn’t get any ideas of messing with you. His time in the Underground made it so that he hated being in large groups of people, crooks and crime always lurking about in those environments. He certainly didn’t want you to be swept up in any of it either, so his senses had been on high alert the entire trip. Thankfully that was the case or else right now you’d be splayed on the ground, grievously injured. Not from a criminal, but from some machine called a “car.” You two had to cross the street to get back to the cameraman but in your haste, you had forgotten there were technological advances you weren’t used to roaming around the city. You stepped off the sidewalk, chatting about something called a “balloon,” when a car came careening down the road, going much too fast for a busy pedestrian area. Levi had noticed it in the nick of time, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you out of harm’s way. He couldn’t even find it within himself to yell at the driver, too concerned for your well being.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hurriedly looking you over for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but,” you pointed sadly to the ground where your ice cream lost its life, “my ice cream isn’t.”

That earned a Levi eye roll. “Forget the food. If you keep up this carelessness, the photograph is the only thing I’ll have left of you after this trip.”

You sighed since he was right, as always. “I’m sorry.”

“Just pay attention. I’d hate for you to survive everything we’ve been through just to get taken out by some horse wannabe.”

You burst out laughing, Levi unintentionally lifting the mood. He never thought of himself as an overly funny guy but the way he had you gasping for breath after a hard hitting sarcastic remark would’ve made anyone certain he was a comedian.

The man with the camera handed you the finished products and you excitedly examined your solo one.

“Levi! Look! It’s my face!” You shoved the photograph toward him and he looked it over.

“It is, isn’t it?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of amusement and wonder. He tucked it into his hat for safekeeping (and he kept it on his person every day after that so you were always together; it had miraculously survived the blast from Zeke). When you saw the photograph of the both of you, you were at a loss for words.

“We look so… pretty. Happy. Normal.”

Levi caught a glance and hummed in agreement. He was ecstatic that his actions translated well through the camera.

Before the flash had gone off, he had put his hand on your shoulder.

“What?” you had asked him, turning away from the camera to look at him, thinking he had a question. Instead, you were greeted with steel blue eyes that were gazing lovingly at you, while Levi’s lips were curled into a soft smile. He was the epitome of handsome and you had practically melted, lovesickness etched all over your features and the camera flashed, capturing it forever.

“I’m keeping this one since you have the other one,” you said, tucking it in your chest pocket. “Me and my shitty memory want to make sure we remember this forever.”

You nudged Levi in a teasing manner and he just shook his head. Finding your way back to Hange, you felt a sense of peace wash over you that you didn’t think would be possible in foreign lands, and that was all thanks to Levi. Even if you didn’t always express your love in the most conventional ways, he proved his loyalty and trust in you time and time again. You hoped your photographs would be preserved and serve as proof that the so called island devils weren’t evil after all—they were people, too. People who could laugh and smile.

People who could love.

[tsunami-of-tears]

Sunny

Cassian x Reader

Reader has the best wingman

No warnings, just fluff

Wordcount: <550

Cassian was feeling very happy to be home in Velaris with his family. He had just returned from a mission that had gone much longer than initially planned. With a free afternoon, he was spending some quality time with Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx at a quaint cafe by the Sidra. 

The drinks had just been delivered to the table. Nyx clapped his hands together clumsily as Feyre held up a milkshake for him to try, while Rhys watched the interaction lovingly. The little babe always brought so much joy to their family. 

With all eyes on Nyx, no one noticed the golden blur bounding down the street. The dog came to a stop in front of the group and jumped up at Cassian, knocking the table and causing the drinks to spill. 

Nyx points at the dog and starts babbling, “Pup pup pup.”

It’s a big dog with long, well-groomed, golden hair. It’s on a lead though there is no owner in sight. The dog parts its mouth, appearing to smile, and wags its tail as it tries to lick Cassian’s face. 

“Hey buddy,” Cassian says, giving the dog a pat on its head. “Where’s your owner?” 

On cue, a gorgeous High Fae female bolts down the path, coming to a halt before the table. 

“Sunny, you bad boy!” She exclaims. The dog, Sunny, cocks his head in response before giving Cassian’s cheek a lick. 

Cassian lets out a deep laugh, both at the happy dog’s affection and his name, which is not very fitting for the Night Court. 

“I’m so sorry,” The female says to the group. “He pulled out of my grip and took off. I chased him all the way down the street. Can I please replace everything he knocked over?” 

“No real harm done, darling,” Rhys responds, before giving Cassian a pointed look.

“Are you sure?” The female questions, grabbing Sunny’s lead. “Sit boy.” Sunny obeys, still wagging his tail. 

Nyx interrupts with more babbling, “Pup!”

Laughing, the female asks, “Do you want to see him do a trick? Sunny, roll over.” The dog obeys again, rolling onto his back. Nyx lets out an elated squeal and claps his hands together. 

The female beams at the toddler, before turning her attention back to the rest of the group. “I’m so sorry, I’m forgetting all my manners. My name is Y/N.” 

Hearing her name is music to Cassian’s ears, it sounds so lovely that he forgets to respond. 

“I’m Rhys, this is my mate, Feyre, and our son, Nyx. That’s Cassian.” 

Rhys saying his name draws Cassian’s attention from the female, he notices Feyre wiggling her eyebrows at him and smiling cheekily. Rhys coughs, a blatant push to get Cassian to speak. 

Finding his voice, he turns to Y/N, “Actually Rhys, this has been quite inconvenient.” He flashes a smile that he hopes is charming enough, “I know how you can make it up to me though.” 

Y/N’s cheeks flush and she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, “Oh, how?”

“Dinner. With me. Tonight.”

Y/N bites her lip, not breaking eye contact, “It’s a date.” 

[djarins-cyare]

Hi, thanks for checking out my writing!

I write purely for Din Djarin (though I read and rec other Pedro Pascal characters and other Star Wars media). Whilst not all my stories include smut, they usually contain adult themes and language, so they’re suitable for over-18s only 🔞

My writing is extremely detailed and character-oriented, and I research and proofread/edit thoroughly. I never start publishing something until it’s fully written. As a result, producing content takes me a while, but I hope this ensures that my completed works are high-quality, immersive experiences for my readers.

Please feel free to join my tag list.

**The emojis assigned to each fic below indicate moods rather than specific genres and are open to interpretation**

PUBLISHED WORKS:

🔷 Be-All And Endor [406,690 words]

My magnum opus; this is a novel-length slow burn set after season 2. Din has a bounty on Endor and gets more than he bargained for when Reader accidentally almost runs him down with her speeder in the forest. Over 1.6k kudos on AO3. [😍+🥰+🥵]

🔷 Never Look Down [13,160 words]

Two-part mini-series set on Nevarro after season 3, wherein Din falls for Grogu’s babysitter but resolves not to tell her… until a drunken misunderstanding results in some revelations. [😍+🫣 and a hint of 🥵]

🔷 Din Djarin: The Contractor [1,001 words]

An imagine-turned-one-shot that evolved from pics of Din holding a toolbox and the memory of Joel telling Ellie he used to be a contractor. Reader needs a repairman, and guess who shows up… [😡->😈]

🔷 The Long Goodbye [45 words]

Flash fiction in 280 characters or less. An examination of why Ahsoka came looking for Din in ‘Chapter 13: The Jedi’ rather than waiting for him in Calodan like he asked. [🥺]

CURRENTLY BEING WRITTEN:

🔷 Hush

[snippet 1] [snippet 2] [snippet 3] I was assigned the genre ‘secret relationship’ in a roll-a-trope writing challenge, so this fic follows Din and Reader embarking on a clandestine liaison that they have to hide from Karga… because Reader is our favourite High Magistrate’s niece. Multi-chapter; features sneaking around, flimsy excuses, near misses, and furtive smut. [😏🤫🥵]

🔷 Held Is The Seed

[details & snippet] [snippet] A four-part smutty series. When a guy in a cantina claims Mandos make poor lovers, Reader leaps to Din’s defence and lists several ways in which he could, in fact, be exceptionally talented in bed. Din overhears and later offers to prove her assumptions true one by one. [😍->🥵]

🔷 To See A Thousand Things

[details & snippet] [snippet - 1st one down] An extremely smutty, angsty piece based on five firsts and one last. Din has something casual going with a gun shop owner over the years, but they both discover that anything long-term will inevitably transform into something that runs deep. [🥵+😭]

🔷 Aruetiise

[snippet - 2nd one down] One-shot based on the idea of Din and Reader both coming up with reasons they can’t be together, none of which are the same and all of which are idiotic. An argument finally leads to a conversation about it. [🥺…🥹🥰]

🔷 Final Sanctuary

[snippet - 3rd one down] [snippet] Smutty one-shot (will be lengthy) based on a fantasy Din has when his shipmate spills white dip on her chin, and how he manages to figure out flirting and make his fantasy a reality. [🥵->🥰]

🔷 Din Djarin In Jarringly Domestic Situations

[details & snippet] [more details] Space romcom involving a series of encounters in which Din meets the woman of his dreams, but each time, it’s in an embarrassing or awkward situation. [😍😳🥴]

FIC REQUESTS:

I’m very open to requests because having a deadline and someone waiting on me often helps motivate me to finish!

I’m flexible in terms of content, but please bear in mind that smut takes me a lot longer to write, and I lean towards fluff rather than angst (though I’m not opposed to the darker end of the scale). I’m also not a fan of breeding kink (sorry, I firmly believe Din is a reluctant father who loves Grogu but would have to be brought around to the idea of one day having his own) or daddy kink. Otherwise, please feel free to suggest anything that takes your fancy!

Ideally, short prompts or ideas for one-shots are best because I’m the girl who got over 400k words out of “slow burn set on Endor”, so the more complex your request, the bigger the undertaking, the longer it’ll take me to research and write (and the longer you’ll be waiting).

HOW TO SUPPORT ME:

If you’ve enjoyed my writing, please consider heading over to AO3 and adding some kudos to my fics there. Also, please consider reblogging any of my fics/series masterlists here on Tumblr. Both these actions increase visibility and help new readers to find my work long after publication. I don’t have a Ko-fi because I value online encouragement and marketing assistance more than cold, hard cash.

I also see spinoff media as the highest form of flattery, so if you feel like doing anything creative based around the universes I write, rest assured I’ll be here cheering you on and crying over how much I love you! It’s my dream for my writing to inspire others, whether it’s playing in my sandbox with me or crafting something of your own.

Thanks for your support; it means the galaxy to me! 💙🩵

🌀 I do NOT consent for my stories to be copied/reposted on any other site, nor stolen, scraped or reworked by AI 🌀

[firerose18991]

Thinking about rich!boyfriend Gojo who is intent on having the strongest female jujutsu Sorcerer as his girl.

Minors DNI

Info: Jujutsu Kaisen, rich shenanigans, cunniligus, smut, thick reader, written with black readers in mind

A/N: unedited😘

Wrd cnt: 1,876

You were brought up in the Kyoto branch. After you graduated you were hardly ever around the school as you are always selected for their highest profile missions or representing the branch.

Naturally this would lead to you and Gojo crossing paths numerous times. You respected his work but not his ethics. Chatting up the women at every meeting like he was some prize. But you could tell it was all talk. High ranking clan men rarely wanted their equal when they married, otherwise the old clans would have been overturned decades ago. No, you could tell her was the type that was raised to marry an obedient housewife when the time came.

So when the two of you met at the latest meeting you weren't fazed at being his target for the evening. He claimed the seat next to you during the proceedings, chatted you up as the group moved to the dining hall, and sat overly close as late night drinks were served.

"Gojo this has been great but I need to head to bed." You spoke flatly, pushing him off your arm.

"This has been great" he held his head in his hand. The silver strands of his hair reflected the light into your eyes. "Let's hang out before the meeting tomorrow evening."

"Make it worth my while." You got up from your floor seat and headed towards the women's shared room.

The next day you hadn't expected much. You'd already been waiting for him for 20 mins. Why would you expect him to be on time?

He rolled up in front of the meeting hall in a maserati blaring his horn as if there were anyone else there.

"Hop in." he rolled up to you, flashing that same arrogant smile seemingly etched into his features.

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping district."

"For what? We have meetings about the state of the Jujutsu world and you want me to find a cute dress." You bent down to peek at him in the car.

"Can't be worse than the standard issue Jujutsu garb." He flung the passenger door open.

"Are you saying I look bad?" You glared as you stepped down into the car.

"Oh no honey, you make those uniforms work." He lowered his glasses to wink.

God you'd strangle him if you weren’t so busy feeling the heat swirl to your face. So the two of you headed to the city. Where you end up in front of this golden tower-like store that you didn't recognize the name(though to be fair you wouldn't know the names of most stores as you weren't a shopper, but you could tell this one was high class.) Instead of wasting your breath you let Gojo run his big mouth.

"Quality and style wrapped in one store. Figured we'd get something to wear for our date yeah?"

"Gojo?!" You stopped walking but he swooped behind and ushered you along.

"trust me it'll be 'worth your while'" god you were regretting that now.

He tugged you into the store under his arm. You were a bit embarrassed being dressed in traditional clothes while the rest of the store(staff included) looked red carpet ready.

"The sapphire suite." He said to the woman who greeted you at the door.

The two of you were brought to a giant space filled with clothing racks. The massive window at the end of the golden room looked out at the entire city and bathed the room in light. You were caught doe eyed at the sights.

"Would you care for champagne? "Another host said from the small bar in the room.

He nudged your shoulders and the two of you stepped further in. "Would you?"

"Oh! Okay…" The bartender presented your drinks and the bottle before excusing himself.

The manager had informed you that they have already filled your room with their latest pieces on the racks for men's and women but if you had any specific requests or styles you'd like to try they could have that brought to the up as well. When the shock had worn off and you took the time to examine the room it resembled a bridal outfit presentation stand.

"Where are the mirrors?"

Gojo fiddled with the remote from his place on the couch. Slowly portions of the massive glass showed your reflection.

"You can watch shows on it too but I think we'll have all the entertainment we need. " He got up and started sorting through the women's clothing. "How 'bout we start with this." He whistled holding up a strappy (like all straps) dress.

You walked down from the stage to look through the men's rack. You pulled out a bright pink pimp suit. "And of course you'll follow with this."

There were dressing rooms hidden in the corners of the room by crimson red curtains to compliment the gold. You stepped into one and tried to work out if you could even cover the most essential areas with the small pieces of fabric. In the end you stepped out with one arm braced to your chest and shorts beneath the piece.

"Hm I see what you're going with, leave a little to the imagination." Gojo was already sitting on the couch again, studying your look.

He was wearing the flamboyant suit like it was second skin, even popping the collar for excess asshole effect. You tiptoed over to where he was sitting.

"Looks great. Dress is nice too."

"Gojo, I feel like my time is being wasted." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Alright fine" he walked over to the rack. "You gonna pick something out or do I get the honor."

After the two of you sifted through the rack you'd found some options and went back to the changing room. Each time you'd come out and look at yourself in the now full screen mirror.

"Can I see the last one again?" Gojo laughed, he'd been watching try on each outfit as if you didn't look great in all.

"Gojo this isn't a fashion show.". You were checking yourself I'm the mirror once again. "I like this one but I don't know, what's this date you were talking about?"

"Just a lunch date" he shrugged.

"Gojo I'm not stupid don't walk me into some hair brained scenario." You picked out the last dress. "I don't like surprises." You called as you walked back.

He watched the gentle curve of your ass as you walked back through the mirror.

"Hey (Y/N) I think that one is good for where we're going." He leaned his head on the couch back board and sighed.

"You sure?" You peeked out from the curtain.

"Yeah, and whatever else caught your eye." He got up to finally pick out his own outfit which had been selected before the two of you came to shop in person.

You wore the dress out and gathered your clothing. From all the outfits there was only one other you couldn't bear to part with and took that one. As a jujutsu sorcerer you didn't have many casual clothes because you hardly needed them.

Gojo paid for everything to your surprise, you could never tell when to believe in him. So when he took you to a regular (for his standards) enjoyable lunch date you had started to go easier on him. He even managed to get the two of you back on time for the evening meetings. You thought after this debacle he'd be done though, he was never known to stay interested in others for long.

So imagine your surprise when you are transferred to the tokyo branch for "backup". As if Gojo wasn't the whole army.

But this is getting too long:

After a few months Gojo had pulled every favor to get as close to you as possible and you'd grown comfortable around him now (what choice did you have).

So after exsorcing a particularly tuff curse the two of you spend the night at a rejuvenating hot spring in the mountains. Each suite had a private hot spring to themselves so the two of you decked out in complimentary robes and the crisp wines provided, made use of it.

You rested your head on the edge of the tub feeling the night breeze compliment the steaming waters. Gojo had taken the chance to run his hands over your back as you rested. Of course he wasn't too drained by the mission.

Soon tender touches turned to the frost of his breath on your neck. You were willing to go as long as his little game would last.

"(Y/N)..." His hands firmly gripped your hips bringing them back to his erection.

You reached back to bring his lips closer to your flesh. He sucked on your neck, softly at first but growing more passionate and bold each second. You turned to face him, finally to claim his lips for yourself.

As you reached up the cold air perked your nipples causing them to make contact with Gojo's toned chest before the rest of you. He lifted your legs in a butterfly hold keeping your folds spread and stimulated by the heated water.

The kiss was sloppy as you were now relying on him to keep you in position. But the man wouldn't keep his hand still. He'd find a new hand hold on your butt or thighs each second and switch.

He pushed himself flush against you, steadying your bodies and allowing his dick to make perfect contact with your puffy clit. His hips began to hump against you to which you reciprocated. You soft mewls were drowned out by his heavy breathing.

As the two of you worked a good rhythm he snuck his thumb between the two of you to apply more pressure to your clit. You tightened your legs around him.

"We should get out." You whispered trying to compose yourself.

He climbed out on all fours with you clinging to him like a joey. He laid you out on the adjoined wooden deck to properly devour you. He pushed your thick thighs up giving them tentative squeezes. The mix of the cool air and the steam from his breath had your clit twitching for attention. Gojo had been taking his time letting you stew but you were having none of it. You grabbed his snow white locks and pulled his lips into contact with your pussy. He got to work, peeking up at you with his eyes. Watching you hump against the flat of his tongue before he moved to relish your core. You caged his head as he doted on your pussy. He'd switch from pumping his tongue to teasing your slit all the while rubbing your clit with his thumb.

He wouldn't deny himself much longer and mounted you. He's spent all this time breaking you down sufficiently and now you were his for the taking.

He thrusted so the two of you are flush at the hips, grinding down sensually on your sweet spot before he began fucking you proper. Your sweet nectar and voice made harmonies in his ears as the two of you went on.

"Fuck sweetheart, this was worth the wait."

~Fire Rose

[aph-america]

Inevitable Temptation: Chapter 2- A Step Closer

After years of bullying due to a disorder that leaves him infertile, Ivan swears to never marry an Alpha. But living in a society that leaves him with few freedoms, his father marries him off. His Alpha fiancé, Alfred F. Jones, is a charming fellow who seems to not have a reason to marry an omega like Ivan- or does he?

Knock Knock

“Hey! Ivan. Gotta surprise for you, meet me in the backyard.”

Ivan’s ears perked up to the statement. A whiff of sage hit his nose, stronger than yesterday. He shook his head to ignore it before he pondered. Still in his sleepwear, he changed into a simple pair of jeans and a turtleneck. Heading down the stairs of his new ‘home’, he went to the backdoor, leading him to the yard.

Looking ahead, he spotted a shirtless Alfred with a shovel, next to several rows of potted flowers. He pulled his scarf over his face as he came closer, entranced by the flowers.

“You like ‘em? I got them rushed over once you told me what you wanted yesterday. Was hoping that we could plant them today.” He flashed his bright smile.

Ivan blinked and grinned, overjoyed by the gift. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to appear too happy for the Alpha, so he held back his delight. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and looked around the yard. He pointed to an area that had plenty of sun. “I think a garden there would look nice, yes?” He told more so than asked.

Alfred nodded, an enthusiastic smile on his face. He pushed up his black sunglasses and started digging up the grass, without pause. Ivan kneeled next to the rows of flowers, inspecting their color and quality. Gentle fingers stroked the delicate petals. Ivan’s eyes traveled back to Alfred, watching him dig out the dirt. His gaze unable to pull away, he couldn’t help but take notice of his body. A built alpha, nothing new or surprising. However, the omega found himself watching the sweat drip down his chest and between his muscles. Almost in a daze, he snapped out of it by Alfred’s voice.

“I’m really glad ya’ like 'em!” He shouted in a happy tone, a proud grin on his face. He hadn’t noticed Ivan staring at him since he’d been hard at work pulling out grass for his crush's garden.

Ivan flinched, taking himself out of his daze. The hot sun covered up the flush that went to his cheeks. “Yes…Thank you…” He politely responded, attempting to not sound too impressed. His eyes flickered back to Alfred again. “I’m surprised an alpha like yourself is out here doing hard labor…I’d assume you would hire someone…”

Alfred snorted at the assumption. “What? You think ‘cause I got money I can’t get my hands dirty? I’m a country boy at heart. Pop’s always said an alpha who can’t handle shovels and some tools is an embarrassment…” He returned to digging.

"So you weren't spoiled as a child?" Ivan teased, prying to know more about Alfred's life.

"Nah. I'm what they call 'new money' is all. The cash didn't start rolling in until I was in high school. I wasn't raised to be a prissy alpha, who doesn't even know the basics of mounting." He snickered, wiping the sweat forming on his forehead.

“Prissy is not a trait I would associate with you.” Ivan replied, nodding. To Alfred’s defense, he appeared to not be completely helpless in terms of work, inside and outside the house. He had cooked for Ivan several times already. A kindness the omega had returned by making Alfred breakfast this morning.

Alfred boasted, offering a thumbs up, “Good! The traits I want you to associate with me are strong, handsome, an’ charming!”

Ivan could only roll his eyes. “More so, arrogant is a better word…”

Alfred pouted, bending down to clear out more grass. “You really think I’m arrogant? It’s something I’ve tried to work on about myself…” He confessed. Not feeling the need to hide his past with Ivan, he desired an emotional closeness that could only be achieved if he opened up as well.

Ivan could hear the sincerity in the alpha’s voice, a twinge of guilt settling in his mind. He didn’t like that this alpha had the ability to trigger such emotions. “... Maybe arrogant is a strong word. You are very confident, proud…Perhaps such confidence is a foreign concept to me.” Reeling back the criticism, Ivan glanced to the side.

Read Rest On Ao3

[random-mailbox]

Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 21 - Huddle for Warmth

This week’s post has a very loose interpretation of the theme of “Huddle for Warmth”, in actuality this is more of a “It is cold, there is snow, so this counts!” type of collection of stories - both multi-chapters and one-shots. Since it is the last week of January and it is below freezing where I am, this seemed fitting.

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Icebreaker - @linlamont

Minako, being Minako, decides to “help” and sends Usagi and Mamoru to a secluded cabin in the mountains by themselves to try and figure out what they mean to each other, now that they have recovered their memories of the past life. As they work together to cook and keep warm, they try to find a new precarious balance, while dealing with their anxieties and insecurities. 

Chills - Secrets10

Serena can’t seem to warm up after getting hit with a Youma attack. This is compounded by her leaving her keys at home while her family is out. Darien finds her bawling outside the arcade and offers to take her to his place to help warm up.

Quality Time in the Cold - Prince_Endymion (Star_Bun)

In this cute one-shot, Usagi and Mamoru enjoy a walk in the first snow of the season in companionable silence.

Snow Bunny - @shnuggletea

In this non-senshi AU short story, a trip out to a ski resort orchestrated by Minako and Motoki forces Mamoru to confront his feelings for Usagi, with Seyia and Beryl acting as foils.

A Magical Boy in Maine - @caelenath

Disclaimer - this story is not complete (but a new chapter went up last week!) and I am making an exception in including it in the series for two reasons: the "huddle together for warmth" part is already published and the way @caelenath writes psychometry is probably one of my favorite interpretations across the fandom.

Mamoru gets invited to spend American Thanksgiving with his friend's family up in Maine. This leads to a weekend of food, cultural immersion, and letting people see glimpses of his alter-ego by being way too good at snowball fights. Except he keeps getting flashes of something, and he can't figure out if they are premonitions or visions of his past life. 

---

This is the last post for January, and when it came time to decide on themes for February, trying to sort it out by committee did not work as well as I had hoped. There are too many cute possible posts that could be done for the "month of love". After narrowing down the 2 weeks I wanted to do for sure, @caelenath suggested I put the rest of the possibilities that were discussed into a top hat and draw them at random (which I thought was super fitting for a Sailor Moon related fic rec list!). The only snag? I did not own a top hat. Cue googling, searching Amazon to see if I can get it delivered in time, going to multiple party / costume stores and making employees check the warehouse and tops of racks because the system said they have 23! (with my husband rolling his eyes at me the entire time but fully supporting my endeavor). Without further ado, here is what we are doing in February:

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on title name to go to the post) - I will keep updating the list every week as new posts come up:

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

Week 17 - New Years

Week 18 - High School AU

Week 19 - Slice of Life

Week 20 - Coffeeshop AU

[johngarrison1517]

Banking Security: Global Shutter Solutions for ATM Integration

How can ATMs truly protect sensitive transactions in a world of ever-evolving threats?

ATMs are a cornerstone of modern banking, serving millions daily. Yet, with convenience comes vulnerability. Fraud, skimming devices, and security breaches threaten both financial institutions and their customers. While advanced encryption and software safeguards are vital, hardware technology—specifically global shutter cameras—has emerged as a game-changer in ATM security.

This article delves into how global shutter cameras can address critical banking pain points, ensuring safer transactions and better customer trust.

The Modern ATM Security Challenge

The primary pain point for banks and ATM operators is balancing accessibility with robust security. Here’s what they’re up against:

Fraudulent Activities: Skimming devices and fake PIN pads are common tools for stealing sensitive customer information.

Low Visibility: Poor camera performance under fluctuating lighting conditions compromises footage quality, especially in dim or high-glare environments.

Speed vs. Accuracy: Many cameras struggle with capturing fast-moving elements, like quick hand movements or objects, resulting in blurry or unreliable evidence.

In this digital age, global shutter cameras provide a reliable and robust solution for these challenges.

Why Choose Global Shutter Cameras for ATM Integration?

Traditional rolling shutter cameras capture images sequentially, leading to distortions, especially with fast-moving objects. In contrast, global shutter cameras capture an image in its entirety, ensuring precision and accuracy. Here’s why they’re the ideal choice for ATMs:

1. Crystal Clear Imaging in Any Condition

Global shutter cameras maintain image clarity in various lighting scenarios—bright sunlight, shadowy corners, or sudden flashes. For ATMs, this ensures that no detail goes unnoticed, whether during day or night.

2. Accurate Detection of Suspicious Activities

These cameras can detect rapid hand movements or swift actions, capturing potential fraud attempts in high detail. For instance, if someone tries to tamper with the card slot, a global shutter camera ensures that no movement is missed.

3. Seamless Integration with AI Systems

Global shutter cameras are compatible with AI-based security solutions. They can assist in real-time facial recognition, anomaly detection, and even customer behavioral analytics. This technology helps ATMs not only deter fraud but also create a smoother user experience.

4. Reduced Distortion and Greater Reliability

Unlike rolling shutters, global shutter cameras eliminate the "jello effect," where moving objects appear distorted. This makes them ideal for accurately recording events and storing high-quality evidence for potential disputes or investigations.

Addressing Customer Pain Points with Global Shutter Technology

Improving Trust Through Security

One of the biggest customer concerns is trust. People need assurance that their financial transactions and personal data are safe. By deploying global shutter cameras, banks can showcase their commitment to advanced security measures.

Minimizing False Alarms

Traditional cameras often trigger false alarms due to image distortions or lighting issues. This not only wastes resources but also frustrates customers. Global shutter cameras ensure reliable footage that helps reduce unnecessary panic.

Enhanced Fraud Prevention

Fraudsters are getting smarter, and the tools to combat them need to evolve too. Global shutter cameras provide the resolution and speed required to thwart modern techniques like skimming and shoulder surfing.

Supporting Compliance Standards

With regulations like PCI DSS (Payment Card Industry Data Security Standard) becoming stricter, global shutter cameras ensure ATMs meet compliance requirements. Their ability to provide high-quality footage supports the auditing and reporting needed to stay ahead of regulatory demands.

Implementation Made Easy

While the benefits of global shutter cameras are clear, their implementation is equally straightforward. Most modern global shutter cameras are compact, easy to install, and compatible with existing ATM hardware.

Key considerations for banks include:

Choosing the Right Lens: Ensure the camera has the necessary field of view for the ATM setup.

Integrating with Security Systems: Connect the camera with alarm systems, facial recognition software, and cloud storage.

Routine Maintenance: Like any device, regular checks and updates ensure the camera performs at its best over time.

The Future of ATM Security with Global Shutter Cameras

As financial crimes become more sophisticated, the demand for robust hardware solutions grows. Banks that invest in global shutter camera technology today are not only protecting their assets but also building long-term customer trust.

Imagine a world where ATMs are no longer a weak link but a fortress of financial security. With global shutter cameras, this vision is closer than ever.

Ready to Upgrade Your ATM Security?

Global shutter cameras offer unparalleled benefits for financial institutions. Secure your ATMs and reassure your customers with this advanced technology.

Explore cutting-edge global shutter camera solutions today! Click here to discover the latest in global shutter technology for ATMs.

[musicvalla]

Best Beats in Music History: Iconic Rhythms That Changed the Game

Music is a universal language, and at its core are the best beats that define genres, shape movements, and inspire millions. From the pulsating rhythms of early jazz to the driving basslines of modern hip-hop, these beats have left an indelible mark on listeners worldwide. Whether you're an aspiring producer looking to create the next viral track or simply a music lover curious about the best rhythms in history, this article will take you on a journey through the beats that made a difference. Along the way, we'll also explore whether Spotify or Apple Music offers the better experience for accessing these timeless classics.

The Origins of Iconic Beats

The foundation of modern music lies in early African rhythms, where percussion instruments were used to convey stories and emotions. As these traditions merged with European melodies during the transatlantic journey, new forms of music like blues and jazz began to emerge. These genres introduced some of the most remarkable beats in history, such as the swing rhythm that defined big band jazz.

In the 1950s, rock and roll brought forward a revolutionary 4/4 beat, creating a sound that energized an entire generation. Tracks like Elvis Presley's "Jailhouse Rock" showcased the power of strong rhythmic backbones. Meanwhile, Motown records in the 1960s added syncopation and grooves to their songs, birthing beats that remain unforgettable.

Beats That Defined Genres

Funk and Disco: The Groove Revolution Funk, pioneered by artists like James Brown, introduced syncopated rhythms and emphasized the "one," creating the ultimate danceable groove. Disco, which followed in the 1970s, built on funk's foundation to produce beats like those in Donna Summer's "I Feel Love"—a song that laid the groundwork for electronic music.

Hip-Hop: The Breakbeat Era The birth of hip-hop in the Bronx was driven by DJs isolating "breakbeats" from funk and soul records. Grandmaster Flash and Kool Herc popularized these techniques, making breakbeats the heartbeat of a cultural movement. To this day, producers like Dr. Dre and Kanye West craft unforgettable beats that carry forward this tradition.

Electronic Dance Music (EDM): The Beat Goes Digital From Kraftwerk's mechanical rhythms in the 1970s to modern EDM festivals headlined by Calvin Harris, the genre has continually innovated on what makes the best beats for the dancefloor. With the advent of software like Ableton and FL Studio, creating beats has become more accessible, leading to an explosion of creativity.

Why Beats Matter

The greatest beats transcend mere rhythm; they evoke emotion and create memorable moments. Think of Queen’s "We Will Rock You," whose stomping beat became an anthem for sports arenas. Similarly, Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" revolutionized grunge with its raw, powerful drumming.

The importance of beats goes beyond individual songs. Entire movements, from punk to reggaeton, were born from innovators pushing rhythmic boundaries. Whether it’s the syncopation of Latin beats or the hypnotic pulse of trap music, the beat is what gets people moving and feeling connected.

Accessing These Iconic Beats: Spotify or Apple Music?

When it comes to experiencing these iconic tracks, the debate over which is better: Spotify or Apple Music becomes significant. Both platforms provide vast libraries of music, but their approach to showcasing beats differs.

Spotify’s Strength in Discoverability Spotify excels in its algorithm-based playlists like “Discover Weekly” and “Release Radar.” If you're hunting for the best rhythms in lesser-known tracks, Spotify’s recommendations often uncover hidden gems. Additionally, curated playlists such as “Beats for Focus” and “Classic Beats” allow users to dive deep into specific genres.

Apple Music’s High-Quality Audio For audiophiles who want to experience beats with pristine clarity, Apple Music’s Lossless Audio might be the better choice. With its human-curated playlists, Apple Music also emphasizes storytelling, giving users insight into how iconic beats were created.

Podcasts and Documentaries Spotify offers an extensive range of podcasts, including those exploring the history of beats in hip-hop and EDM. Apple Music counters with exclusive interviews and documentaries that provide behind-the-scenes looks at how producers craft unforgettable beats.

The Future of Beats

As technology continues to evolve, so does beat-making. AI tools like Beatoven and Amper are now capable of generating professional-level rhythms, giving artists new avenues to experiment. However, the heart and soul of the most remarkable beats still come from human ingenuity and cultural influences.

Social media platforms like TikTok have also transformed the way beats gain popularity. A single beat can now go viral, as seen with tracks like Lil Nas X’s "Old Town Road." The fusion of beats with visual storytelling has never been more powerful.

Conclusion: The Power of Beats in Music

From the earliest drum circles to today’s chart-topping hits, the best beats continue to be the backbone of great music. They inspire movement, emotion, and connection. Whether you're creating your own beats or just enjoying the artistry of others, there’s no denying their impact.

When it comes to accessing these rhythms, the choice between Spotify or Apple Music depends on your priorities. Spotify offers a wider range of discovery features, while Apple Music delivers higher audio quality. Whichever platform you choose, you’re just a few clicks away from experiencing some of the most unforgettable beats in music history.

[ragequitezekielrants]

Suicide Squad: Kill it with fire

Alright, let’s get this over with. I just spent more time than I’d care to admit slogging through Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League, and let me tell you—this game makes me question not only the state of the gaming industry but also my will to continue existing. Rocksteady, what happened? You went from the Arkham series, which was legitimately great, to this? How does a studio go from delivering masterpieces to producing this colossal mess? It’s like watching a Michelin-star chef burn instant ramen.

Let’s start with the most egregious problem: the live-service, loot-shooter nonsense. Because apparently, we’re still pretending like these games aren’t already circling the drain of irrelevance. This is a Suicide Squad game, right? I’m supposed to be leading a group of misfit anti-heroes on a chaotic, high-stakes mission. So why does it feel like I’m playing a watered-down, paint-by-numbers, grindy loot shooter where I’m swapping out Harley Quinn’s baseball bat for a slightly better bat with +2 damage every five minutes?

And of course, they had to include the obligatory battle pass, microtransactions, and all that other corporate-approved garbage. Yeah, because that’s exactly what I wanted in my Suicide Squad experience—a bunch of cosmetics and power-ups locked behind endless grinding or a paywall. Nothing screams “immersive narrative experience” like buying Harley Quinn a new outfit with real money, right? I miss the days when you bought a game, and it came with everything. What a radical concept.

And the gameplay itself? Monotonous doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m supposed to feel like I’m in control of some of DC’s most chaotic and dangerous villains, but instead, it feels like I’m playing a shooter where I can’t tell the difference between any of the characters. Harley, Deadshot, King Shark, Captain Boomerang—they might as well be the same person with different skins. The combat is boring, repetitive, and somehow manages to make shooting mind-controlled versions of the Justice League feel like a chore. How do you manage to make fighting Superman boring? That takes a special level of incompetence.

And don’t even get me started on the tone of the game. It’s like Rocksteady forgot how to do storytelling. The Arkham games were dark, gritty, and had this incredible atmosphere. This? It’s like they took the most generic superhero movie tropes, mixed them with some dollar-store Deadpool humor, and slapped the Suicide Squad logo on it. The story feels like it was written by someone who Googled “how to be edgy” and just went with the first result. It’s trying so hard to be funny and irreverent, but it comes off as cringey and forced. I found myself rolling my eyes more than laughing.

Let’s talk about the Justice League members you’re supposed to be hunting. Brainiac’s taken over their minds, right? Cool premise, I guess, but the execution? A train wreck. You’d think fighting corrupted versions of Batman, Wonder Woman, or The Flash would be epic. But no, it’s just the same recycled boss fight mechanics you’ve seen in every other half-baked live-service game. There’s no real tension, no clever design—just the same boring bullet-sponge battles that make you wish they’d just kill you and get it over with.

And the open-world? Oh man, don’t get me started. We’re in Metropolis, but does it feel like Metropolis? Not really. It feels like a lifeless backdrop to more grinding. I remember when open-world games used to be filled with interesting things to do, secrets to find, and genuine moments of awe. Now it’s just “run here, shoot that, collect this” in a dead, soulless city. It’s as if they spent all their time designing the buildings and forgot to fill them with any actual content. It’s not immersive; it’s just a checklist of uninspired objectives.

Even the visuals, which should at least be one of the game’s redeeming qualities, feel dated and generic. We’re talking about a game that was supposed to release on next-gen consoles, and it looks like something from the last gen with a slightly shinier coat of paint. I don’t need everything to be hyper-realistic, but at least make the art direction interesting. Everything in this game feels like it was put together by a focus group trying to appeal to the widest, most generic audience possible.

And you know what really grinds my gears? The fact that Rocksteady clearly has the talent to make something great. They did it with Arkham. But instead of giving us a character-driven, single-player Suicide Squad story that explores the psychology of these iconic villains, they gave us this soulless cash grab. It feels like a boardroom of suits sat down and said, “Well, the kids love Fortnite and Destiny, right? Let’s do that, but with Suicide Squad slapped on top.” And now we’re left with this Frankenstein’s monster of a game that tries to be everything to everyone and fails miserably at all of it.

Here’s the worst part: I wanted this game to be good. I like the Suicide Squad. I think they’re interesting characters with potential for a unique, chaotic, and fun game. But Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League just doesn’t deliver on any of that promise. It’s not chaotic; it’s not fun; it’s not even remotely satisfying. It’s just another shallow, repetitive, mindless grind that I’m sure will be abandoned in a year after they realize no one wants to pay for another “season” of pointless cosmetics and minor stat boosts.

So here’s my final word: Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League is a cautionary tale about what happens when you take a beloved IP, strip it of everything that made it interesting, and shove it into the soulless machine that is live-service gaming. It’s a game that could have been great but instead feels like it was designed by an algorithm and polished by a committee of people who don’t actually play games. If you value your time, your money, and your sanity, avoid this one like a plague.

Until next time, let’s hope Rocksteady figures out how to make games again.

And stop playing bad games.

– Ezekiel

[hgroogingsupplies]

HG Roofing Supplies are a leading supplier of roof insulation materials in the UK. Quality products for energy efficiency and comfort. Get a quote today!

[drainageteam01]

What is Waterproofing?

Waterproofing is a process that forms a barrier over surfaces like foundations, roofs, and walls to curb the penetration of water into building structures. It also protects against rusting and rotting.

Waterproofing also helps reduce the risk of mold spores and mildew entering a structure. This ultimately protects the building’s structural integrity, decreases property insurance claims, and enhances the aesthetic of a space.

Roof

Roof waterproofing services protect the structure of your home from water damage. Leaks and dampness can cause wood rot and decay, as well as lead to other problems inside your home, such as mould and mildew growth. These fungal organisms are unhealthy to live with, can lead to asthma and other respiratory conditions, and can also affect the quality of air you breathe. Roof waterproofing services can prevent these issues, resulting in a healthier living environment for you and your family.

There are several different roof waterproofing services available for homeowners, depending on their needs and budget. The most common solution is a liquid membrane that can be applied to the surface of your roof. This solution is very cost-effective, and it provides a complete waterproofing barrier for your roof. It is best suited for new construction, but it can also be used to repair existing roofs.

Before applying any roof waterproofing product, it is important to troubleshoot your roof and check it for leaks or damage. This will ensure that you are getting the most value from your waterproofing service. In addition, you should inspect the flashing, which is the metal seals that connect the roof to chimneys, vents, skylights, and other structural elements on your roof. These should be free of cracks and gaps, and you should replace them if needed.

Liquid membranes are easy to apply and can be used for both new and old roofs. They are also cost-effective and adhere well to most surfaces. They can be rolled or sprayed onto the roof, and they have a high tensile strength to resist tearing. They can also be cured to produce a rubbery coating that provides excellent protection against water.

A sheet membrane waterproofing system is another popular option for roofs. These sheets are laid over the roof and wedged between the rafters or planking, and they are then covered with shingles or other roofing material. These membranes are often made of polymer bitumen, and they have good abrasion resistance and flexibility. They are also able to withstand the weathering effects of UV rays, heat, and ozone.

Some roof waterproofing solutions, such as reflective coatings, can improve energy efficiency in a home by minimising heat transfer. This can help to reduce cooling costs and lead to savings on your utility bills. Waterproofing can also be used to create a more comfortable indoor climate by preventing condensation. This is especially useful for older buildings with insulation that has become saturated and ineffective.

Basement

Many homeowners hire waterproofing professionals to address problems in the basement. Depending on where the water is coming from, the solution may be as simple as a drainage system or it could include other preventative measures such as foundation grading and French drains, soil amendment, or interior basement waterproofing. The cost of these solutions can be a fraction of the price of repairing damage caused by water and moisture, or even replacing flooring and drywall.

One of the most common methods for waterproofing a basement is to install a vapor barrier. A vapor barrier is a plastic sheet that a professional installs on the walls and floor of your basement. This prevents any moisture from escaping through the concrete, reducing mold growth, mildew, and other issues related to condensation.

Another method that a professional can use is to seal hairline cracks in your concrete foundation using waterproof cement. This isn’t a standalone solution, however, since it doesn’t protect against hydrostatic pressure or deep moisture that can cause major structural damage to your foundation. For these reasons, a vapor barrier should be used in conjunction with crack sealant for complete protection against moisture.

Basement seepage is a common problem that can lead to serious and costly structural damage. It usually occurs through small cracks in your basement concrete foundation or extremely porous concrete blocks. When water seepage enters your basement, it can lead to flooding, mold and mildew, and other moisture-related problems. A professional can reduce the risk of seepage by installing a basement drain or a sump pump.

A professional can also help you reduce the amount of water entering your basement by changing the landscaping in your yard to improve runoff. A well-designed and properly maintained landscape can significantly decrease the amount of water that reaches your foundation.

Sodium bentonite is a clay-like natural sealant that can be applied to your basement exterior walls. This prevents water from absorbing into the walls, and it costs about $2 per square foot, including labor. Another option is a liquid membrane waterproofing that’s applied to your basement walls. This option costs about $4 per square foot, including labor and materials.

Unlike waterproofing, damp proofing is a preventative measure that keeps soil moisture or dampness out of a structure. This is done by modifying the construction of a building or home, such as by adding drainage systems, sealing cracks, or putting in a vapor barrier. This can be an expensive option, especially when it involves excavation work. However, this is a more permanent solution than simply sealing cracks or using a dehumidifier. Most contractors use damp proofing in combination with a vapor barrier for a complete basement waterproofing solution.

[batteryagentaus]

How to choose your car Battery

Let's say you and your friends are out having a good time and you all decide to stop for a photo op while you're driving the cool car you've always wanted. After shooting many selfies, you return to your car only to find that it won't start and the dashboard warning light is flashing. You recall the moment a few days ago when you went out to get a new car battery. Remember you need to choose car battery replacement in brisbane wisely.

Body: You can't simply go out and purchase any old battery and hope it will keep your car running smoothly since the battery is an integral part of a complex system designed and built to provide energy to your wheels. If you want to get the right battery for your car, you need to know the basics of battery terminology. There are four primary metrics: ampere-hour (Ah) rating, craning amps (CA), cold craning amps (CCA), and reserve capacity (RC). While 12V is the standard for cars' electrical systems, motorcycles' electrical systems aren't required to conform to this standard. Although 9V systems are still available for vintage motorcycles, 12V is now the standard. For that you can choose the best battery supplier in brisbane there.

You can find out how long the battery can provide a certain current by looking at its ampere-hour rating. The more ampere-hours (Ah) a battery has, the more energy it can store. In order to overcome the inertia of the stationary engine and get it rolling and firing while being rotated by hand, a quick input of high-amperage current is needed for a limited period of time.

Now that we have a working knowledge of the lingo, we can go on to picking out the right battery for your device.

Every car comes with an Owner's Manual that details how to do basic upkeep tasks like changing the oil and rotating the tyres. You may learn the battery's size, CA and CCA ratings, and ampere-hour capacity there. In the absence of the Owner's Manual, the existing battery's top or body may be used to ascertain all of the relevant ratings. As you choose the car battery Brisbane service you can expect the right quality there.

Never settle for a battery with a lower Ah rating than the one you're replacing it with or the one recommended in the handbook. Particularly if you try to start it when it's cold, you'll have a tough time. The battery life will also decrease because of this.

A battery with a higher Ah rating will function, but going with an even higher rating may slow down the charging process and put additional pressure on the alternator.

Pick a battery with a higher CCA rating if you reside in an area where the temperature may drop quite a bit.

If your car's alternator ever stops working, a large Reserve Capacity battery will come in handy for keeping the lights and car running for a while longer.

Make sure you check the battery dimensions twice. Despite the fact that the great majority of battery mounts and battery boxes are standardised, you need still make sure that the mount or box you choose is the right size for your car.

A battery with built-in grips or loops is the better option if you plan on doing your own vehicle maintenance.

Lead acid and dry cell batteries are the most easily available forms of batteries. Lead acid batteries are more expensive and have a shorter lifetime than their dry cell counterparts. In India, a car battery usually lasts between three and four years. If you buy a battery within the first six months after it was made, you may be certain that it is in good condition. Store the Warranty Card safely so that you can easily get a new battery if the original one fails to perform adequately during the warranty term.

Author Bio: For the battery suppliers in brisbane David is a professional writer having the specific ideas for the same.

[ithoughtbeethovendied]

watch your mouth

Prologue

Headache. Chunks like glass edges split my head and all I haze is the bright neon of last night, almost heaving my head. Phone buzzing like an alarm. I glance at the faint light peeping thru the curtains then at the digits on the watch by the bedside. 

10:00 am, Sunday 

Buzz

102 messages

“Fuck something happened”

I open the first dash 

“dude she’s crazy”

And it hits me like the red cup of beer from manicured long fingers.

~~~~~~~~~

“Do you really think that I care and cry about your new job, your new hair?” she’s yelling.

“I never said that” I didn’t. “You’re the one who got your new friends and your new guy”.

“You’re just jealous cuz you can’t keep a guy for more than two weeks”

“LEAH”

“WHAT!?” She slides the drink in her hand across the table and I watch it fall onto the ground creating a mess that the host of the party will have to clean up later, not like we’re already doing a great job keeping up the hype.

Leah snatches a cup of beer from a scared-looking freshman, downs it half down and throws it at me, the cup hitting me straight in the nose and pouring all over.

“OW” 

“Bitch you’ve been hurt worse” she scoffs.

“What the-“

Andrew

He’s in front of me, holding me back. 

“Oh look, the only guy that’s lasted and you won’t even fuck him.” Eye rolls followed.

“You-“

“Beth, don’t. You know how she’s like drunk.” Oh the hero, god he’s too good to be true.

“Leah you’re being a bitch” I counter unmovingly.

She throws a beer bottle on the ground, shattering it. Great, more shards. The crowd formed and moves back.

Andrew now his back facing me is hovering in front of me “Keep your distance, she’s unstable”

Black nails threatening to dig my eyes out “Watch your tone and watch your mouth”

~~~

And then I black out, pieces of me getting in And’s car and him leaving me at my place, that's all I remember.

10:00 am, Sunday 

“Dude she’s crazy”

I slide down the earlier comments. All I see are introverts talking shit. 

Someone posted a hazy bad quality video of the whereabouts of yesterday night on Instagram.

“This is bad, like BAD bad”

I slide up again and search for the likes - no.

Open my DMS and Leah’s account’s on the top. “Last online 10 hours ago”

Good, she’s not seen this. Yet.

I hurry and jump in the air forces left upturned on the carpet and see the mud stains leading to the gloss heels.

Well fuck.

I grab my keys and race down the flat, locking it in a frenzy.

Hop in my car and drive to Leah's apartment stopping at the local cafe to get two high-caffeine-level coffees. Sipping one I reach the third floor. 

The flats locked.

“Where the hell….?”

I slide open my phone and- yes there's a story on the private acc.

Records.

But she doesn’t keep records anymore.

Last year Leah fought with her parents and got an apartment in the legals out of it.

Her mother slapped her in the face and in a rebelling moment, Leah left all the records at her mother's place.

After 4 months they realised that Leah living away was actually a better thing and it worked for all of them. Better check your facts before you flip the page. The clan’s on good terms now but still rarely meets.

Leah’s at her mom's place.

“At least your Instagram is up to date”

Back in the car, driving east. Half an hour later, the city late morning breaks into town sunup. 

In the driveway flashes the blue Nissan.

Knew it.

Coffee precipitates all mossing the cup, I knock on the door. Brown cardigan wrapped around milky sheet-like skin.

“I didn’t mean it”

“So you saw it” I hand her the cup. 

“I didn’t mean it”, she repeats. “You know how I am after some in”

“You’re telling me? I'm the one who brought you the coffee.” I settle on the couch. Davy doesn’t seem to be home, no shit Leah came here.

“you’re never gonna be alone, ill always be there”

“I know Leah, I know” After 15 years of this, you get used to it. 

“Casy!!!” The beagle’s already scratching its back with my hand. “All you do is scratch and bite” I rub her belly. “I bet you never take the time to take her for a walk” I eye the owner.

“Well I’m never here” she makes a helpless face. “Doesn’t ease the fact of the adorableness” I scratch the dog's ears.

“Beth listen I’m not a waste of time ok,”

“Wha-“

“No listen, I’m sorry for all of it. I can never not care for you. You’re everything I have and I’m so so grateful. Please, I’m sorry. Throw all of it out. Take my love.”

It’s silent. That's all I hear after it. Pure. Bliss. Silence.

“So you really care?”

“I do”

And it never ever felt that good to have a cup dash into your face.

[nanagoswife]

Gojo and Nanami with a reader that's afraid of falling

A/N: So, fun fact, I have a HUGE fear of falling. I was specifically reminded of that as my friends were laughing at how I was freaking out on a Ferris wheel this weekend at the fair😅 Anyways, it gave me the idea of how these two jjk men would act with a s/o with the same fear. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Other than the fear of falling, not much. Pretty much just fluff and heights.

Gojo Satoru

You clutched onto Gojo so tightly you almost thought you’d crush him to death. Your head was pressed into his chest so you can’t see your surroundings while your hands clench the material of his clothing for dear life. If you could wrap your legs around him, you would. However, you’re scared that, if you move too much, you could possibly fall. 

Now, as Gojo holds you high in the air, it’s not the height you’re scared of. It’s not like you doubt that he’ll keep you safe and make sure you don’t fall. What it was was an inescapable fear you’ve had for many years now. 

The feeling of falling, at any height, is your biggest fear of all. You don’t really know why, but you just do.

“Afraid of heights?” Gojo teases when you bury your face a little deeper into him. 

You squeeze your arms around him tight as a part warning, part making sure you have a proper grasp. “T-that’s not what it is,” you mumble shakily. Even you can hear the pure terror in your trembling voice as you somehow clench onto your boyfriend just a bit tighter. Every bit of you was tense and you can’t help but dread how it’s making your muscles hurt this soon. 

One of Gojo’s arms, the one that was wrapped around your waist, squeezes you a little. His other comes to gently lift your head so that you’re at least looking up at him. 

“Don’t you want to see the view?” His tone is teasing, but it’s laced with genuinity. This may be the first he’s learning of your fear, but you know he’s determined to try and get you through it. It doesn’t matter if it’s the first time he’s doing this and you know it’ll be a beautiful sight. 

The fear of falling just while standing is bad enough, not to mention falling backwards. However, being this high, the thoughts of how that would feel, how it would all end, would intrude in a heartbeat. Well, they are intruding as you squeeze your eyes shut. So, you shake your head, burying your face back into Gojo’s chest. 

“We’ll work up to that, then,” he says with a suddenly soft tone. It surprises you. Yet, at the same time, you were expecting it. You may have been expecting some sort of sarcastic remark but this is genuine.You now know that, no matter how long it takes, he’ll do all he can to make you feel safe just because you’re in his arms. It doesn’t matter the fear or danger that lies ahead. He’ll make sure that he will never hear the same fear in your voice, just like a few moments ago, ever again.

Nanami Kento

It might not seem like it at the moment, but you dragged Nanami to the fair that rolled into town. This was one of his days off and, even though spending a day at home with your fiancé sounded amazing, you wanted to have some fun. 

Sure, you’ve gone to amusement parks together but those were pretty toned down visits. They weren’t really for thrills or too much excitement. More like quality time spent together on cheesy rides like the tunnel of love or simple things where you could pay more attention to one another rather than what’s going on around you. Of course to also enjoy the little treats that Nanami rarely indulges in.

Now, though, you were going for the exciting bit. You knew it was only a matter of time before Nanami was taking the lead, pointing out rides the two of you should go on. You indulged all of them, gripping his hand on fast rides and cuddling into his side on simple things like a Ferris wheel. 

On the Ferris wheel, you knew Nanami noticed that you were a bit more tense. Especially since you’d tense even more and a flash of panic would spread across your features when the seat would tip a little too far for your liking. 

However, it isn’t until he suggests the drop ride that he knows something’s off. You completely freeze when he points to it, his other hand linked with yours and therefore pulling him to a stop. His expression shows his concern as he steps up in front of you. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, his free hand cupping your jaw. His chestnut eyes search yours as you notice that he’s positioned himself so you can’t see the ride he suggested seconds ago. 

You look down at the ground, your face heating up in both embarrassment and warmth. This man is always so caring, a side of him that you only get to see. Yet, of the many years you’ve been in a relationship with him, you’ve never told him about this silly fear of yours.

“It’s stupid,” you mutter as you lean your head against Nanami’s shoulder. 

“My love,” he calls out, using the hand on your jaw to guide your face back to his, “I can assure you that nothing you’ve ever told me is stupid. Especially when it comes to fears.”

For a moment, you freeze up. How did he know what it was? Then again, he’s a very perceptive man and he’s also your fiancé. 

You sigh. “I… have a slight fear of… falling?”

A look of understanding passes over Nanami’s face at your admission. “I’m assuming that’s why you were a little on guard while on the Ferris wheel?”

You nod a little as you explain, “Yes. It’s not like it’s connected with heights, either. Even the thought of tripping and falling is enough to scare me. Not only that, but the feeling of falling is the worst. It feels as if my heart and lungs are being torn out of my chest if you…,” you pause your little rant, looking down to the ground before continuing, “If you get what I mean.”

With your admission, your cheeks heat up viscously. It feels so stupid saying it out loud but that doesn’t deter the man standing in front of you. Instead, he’s leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his lips still against your skin, “I should’ve seen this sooner.”

Making sure not to break the connection of Nanami’s lips against your forehead as his arms pull you in closer, you shake your head. “There’s no way you could’ve known. I should’ve said something a long time ago.”

“No need to apologize, love. Let’s move on to something else, yeah?”You nod, hugging him tight before moving on to another ride with your hand still in his. It was a comfort you never knew you needed. Still, he made you feel safe even for the smallest reason. That's why you love him so much.

@fiona782

[blackkatmagic]

More AUs along that line? You’re trying to kill us with quality content, aren’t you?

It’s hard to find a dark corner on a cruiser built to make every inch useable, but after a week Jon's finally managed to pick a spot that’s out of the way, high up on a platform that was probably forgotten during construction or repairs. It’s more visible than he would like, but Jon is good at making himself small when he needs to. He wraps himself in his cloak, hunkers down with his back against the exposed pipes and his boots braced on a beam, and wraps his wounds in peace.

He shouldn’t have gotten wounded. He knows better, is better. Jon is fully aware of it, and that edge of grim-dark awareness makes each roll of the bandage a recrimination. Dark Woman trained him, honed him. He should be better.

No attachments, Jon tells himself, and pulls the bandage tight. Ties it off, then moves on to the next cut across his arm. The rest he healed, but—he’s tired. Too tired for the delicate, precise work of healing.

He shouldn’t be tired, either.

The sound of boots on metal makes him pause, and Jon tips his head. Clone troopers, he thinks, and doesn’t have to glance over the side to know he’s right. All different in the Force, but—uniform in their training, their discipline. He can pick a clone trooper out of a crowd just for that.

“Kriff,” a quiet voice says, and there's a thump, a helmet set down on the strategy table, then a creak of armor as the trooper leans next to it. “Hell of a fight.”

“Back at it as soon as the third sun sets, vod,” the other one says, calm, and Jon just catches a flash of orange paint below him. One of the 212th troopers, then, likely evacuated with the 501st when the planet’s temperature started to rise.

Jon almost stayed. He could have. He stares down at his bloody knuckles, breathing steadily, and tightens his fingers into fists. If he hadn’t had Kenobi yelling in his ear, that padawan half-collapsed from blood loss next to him, he would have stayed, kept chasing the droids, kept chasing Grievous.

Durge almost beat him. Compared to him, Grievous won't be a challenge.

There's a low groan, exhausted, and a thump as the trooper slides down to sit, head falling back against the edge of the table. The edge of armor Jon can see is blue, and he picks out the pauldron, the tally marks scratched into a vambrace. “Don’t remind me, kriff,” the 501st’s captain complains, stretching a boot out. His armor is stained dark grey with ash.

With a quiet snort, the 212thtrooper crouches down next to him. Jon studies him for a moment, picks out the edge of a scar curved around his eye—Obi-Wan’s commander, then. Jon hadn’t realized he’d gotten aboard the Resolute. But then, the retreat was chaotic, almost too late. The droids had held them on the planet too long, had sprung a trap that kept the transports from returning. Jon is going to hear the sound of those cannons in his dreams tonight, he already knows.

“’Least you’ve got a Jedi,” the 212th’s commander says ruefully, and Jon closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to hear this. For a moment he even thinks about teleporting away, folding himself back to the quarters assigned to him, but—

It’s a waste of his strength. Frivolous use of the Force when he’s going to need every ounce of his power later. Jon breathes, and rejects the urge. Dark Woman would have berated him for even entertaining the thought.

There's a quiet huff. “Do I?” the captain asks, and there's a grim edge to it. “Not a lot of leading happening down there.”

Jon stares down at the fraying bandage around his wrist, half-covered by his threadbare sleeve. Doesn’t move, doesn’t let himself have a reaction, just breathes.

[roswellwrites]

>posts for the first time in two years

>it's 5k words of the cowboy from dbd eating p*ssy

>refuses to elaborate

>leaves

Pairing: caleb quinn x reader

Tags: oral, fingering, some dirty talk. Relatively tame considering how overboard i went with this imo

Word count: 5052 but we don’t have to talk about it

When you opened your eyes to find yourself standing in the center of Glenvale’s dusty street, you huffed. 

You were used to it by now, the way the unsettlingly thick fog would seem to appear from nowhere, rolling unnaturally across the clearing as it picked and chose those who would be unfortunate this time.

You remembered holding your breath, your eyes squeezed shut and hands wringing anxiously on your lap, begging wordlessly for the Entity’s fog to pass you over.

And yet here you were.

Still, Glenvale was not the worst case scenario.

The old fort -while not exactly new territory in the Entity’s realm- was still relatively unfamiliar to you, unexplored, eerie and overgrown. 

The air was always strange here, imbued with an undercurrent of dark energy, thrumming heavy and electric as if alive with the misfortune that had befallen the small settlement.

You lazily kicked a pebble in your path, the action unsettling the dust in a way that felt dramatic, even by trial standards. 

You noticed your boots first, like nothing you owned in the real world but familiar to you in a way you couldn’t quite place. But it wasn’t just your shoes that were different. Some time between the campfire and the fog and arriving on the dusty streets of Glenvale, your outfit had changed completely.

The dress you wore was a new addition to your (very limited) wardrobe, short in the front and long in the back, layered but surprisingly light, contradictory to the material’s heavy appearance. The fabric itself was a deep maroon trimmed with black, matte with no hint of shine to it, unmistakably high quality though perhaps not quite authentic to the setting. The dress’s bodice was tight and low cut, flattering, you mused, if the eyeful of your own cleavage you got when you looked down was any indication.

You rubbed your gloved hands together idly, enjoying the smooth feel of the fabric and the small ‘swish swish’ of your fingers as they brushed against one another. 

Beyond that you wore stockings, the material closer to sheer than opaque, lacy bands fitting you snuggly slightly above your knee as they disappeared under the hem of your skirt.

Your boots had a small heel to them, laced tightly, the cuffs extending an inch or so above the natural curve of your ankle.

You clicked your heels together experimentally, more amused than anything else.

A saloon girl outfit.

Fitting.

You stopped in the dusty street, raising your eyes skyward in awe as you admired the beautiful swirling galaxies and twinkling stars, brighter and more defined than you had ever seen them before. You allowed yourself only a moment to enjoy the sight before hurrying along, side-eyeing a wayward buzzard as it screeched its displeasure from an overturned cart in the street.

You climbed the steps leading to the saloon’s main entrance, eager to get off the street and find somewhere a little less out in the open, your eyes scanning the establishment quickly as you crossed the threshold.

The inside of the old building was a scattering of overturned furniture, tables and chairs covered in a fine layer of dust and pockmarked by bullet holes.

You cast a cursory glance over the dead bodies, frozen permanently in the entity’s snapshot, no longer human bodies but now props to set a stage.

Your eyes lingered on the bar before passing over it quickly, knowing from experience that nothing of value would be found there. You had conducted a thorough investigation the first time you were here -a search for resources of course, nothing more- finding only shattered glass and a single unmarked bottle, the lone swig of alcohol inside burning your mouth in a way that had you tasting it for the rest of the trial no matter how many times you spit.

But off to one side rested the shining star of the old saloon, an old piano that had completely enthralled you the first time you saw it and every time since.

The instrument in question was the oldest piano you’d ever seen, exciting but not all that much of a surprise given the setting. You dragged the rickety chair from its place under the keybed and took a seat, ignoring the small screech of the chair legs on the old floor as you did so.

You spread your fingers over the keys, your touch feather-light, unbothered by the accumulated dust and grime on your pristine gloves as the piano banged out its own discordant tune.

There was the light creaking of worn floorboards behind you paired with the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps as they approached. Boots, you parsed easily. Definitely boots.

You felt a flash of fear, the feeling lasting only a handful of seconds before you forced yourself to settle again. You took a moment to think of the other survivors that had entered the trial with you. Too loud to be Ace’s loafers, the wrong sound altogether to be Yui’s sandals.

Jeff then.

You straightened in your chair, casting an excited glance over your shoulder. “Jeff,” you beamed. “Check this out-“

“Not Jeff,” the tall man rasped behind you.

Your blood ran cold, all traces of your smile vanishing and eyes widening in dawning horror as your entire body went rigid with fear.

The gunslinger’s hand was on your shoulder suddenly, his grip punishing, and you spun, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight of the man towering over you. Your mouth dropped dumbly in surprise as you moved immediately to stand, to run maybe, a startled noise instead tearing itself from your throat as the cowboy shoved you backwards so hard that the old wooden chair groaned in protest.

You noticed his grin before anything else, crooked and unkind as he looked at you. His eyes were intense, sharp and predatory, alight with the thrill of having caught you off guard.

‘My heartbeat,’ your brain supplied unhelpfully, gloved hand flying to your chest as your heartbeat suddenly roared to life behind your ribs. “Why...” you trailed off, tongue darting out nervously to wet your bottom lip. “Why didn’t I hear-“

His grin widened, strange eyes dragging leisurely and without shame from your face to trail the length of your body. “Reckon you just weren’t listening, girlie.”

You followed his gaze, puzzled briefly.

You could instantly feel the blood rush to your cheeks, fear pushed aside and replaced with embarrassment to find that your skirt had ridden up when he shoved you backwards, the already short hem pushed back enough to reveal the tops of your lacy stockings and garters, decorated with small, intricate bows.

You shifted in your chair, moving instinctively to press your thighs together and smooth the fabric back into place before you stopped yourself, a piece of advice given to you by another survivor ringing clear as a bell in your ears.

“Try to catch them off guard."

‘Sure,’ you thought. ‘Why not?’

You inhaled deeply, taking a moment to compose yourself under the man’s sharp gaze, lashes fanning against your flushed cheeks as you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, you tilted your head slightly, allowing a strand of loose hair to slip free from behind your ear and teasingly brush the tops of your breasts. You shifted forward in your seat, pleased to note the obvious way that the gunslinger’s eyes drifted to your chest again. You spread your fingers over your collarbone, making a show of it as you arched your back to give the man a better view.

“Ain’t above fightin’ dirty, I see,” the tall man scoffed.

You ignored the comment in favor of action. You reached towards him, willing your hands to steady themselves as you hooked pseudo-confident fingers behind the man’s belt and tugged him playfully towards you. “Reckon we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, Mister,” you drawled, tongue darting out to wet your lips in a way that you hoped read more sultry than nervous.

There was a moment where the man simply looked at you, head tilting slightly as if mulling the phrase over. He seemed to come to his conclusion quickly enough, perhaps deciding that your sudden exaggerated southern drawl wasn’t meant to offend or that this wasn’t some kind of trap he was about to fall into.

“That so?” The man grinned. He stepped forward into your space obligingly, seeming to humor the invitation of closeness. His eyes still held that unsettling glint to them, too bright and too shiny. Unnatural. Inhuman.

Regardless, you were pleased when he dropped his gaze again, his strange eyes focusing on the slight rustle of your heavy skirt as you spread your thighs wider to accommodate him.

This was easy. This was something you could do.

You felt your heart rate spike again when he shifted his weapon in his hands, your shoddily crafted facade dangerously close to slipping as you fought the urge to flinch. You allowed your eyes to linger on the gun for only a moment before sliding your gaze instead to his face, forcing an air of casualness. “I bet if you put that gun down, we could find a better use for those hands of yours, cowboy.”

You knew the gunslinger could end this little game right now if he wanted, could pick you up and carry you to a hook and there would be nothing you could do about it. But the thought of escaping the situation (or the trial, for that matter) was no longer at the forefront of your mind, a concept that emboldened but -more importantly- thrilled you in a way you couldn’t quite articulate.

That’s all this entire scenario was; just one big trust fall.

The gunslinger made a small noise at the offer, over exaggerated as if mulling it over. “Hmmm…” he said, stretching the sound long enough that you had to tamp down your fear again. After a brief pause,  there was the dull sound of steel meeting wood as the man reached past you to prop his gun in the corner where the piano met the wall.

All at once the tension seemed to leave your chest, like a bubble that had burst behind your rib cage. You exhaled softly through your nose, breathing a silent sigh of relief as you cast your eyes upwards to see now that the large man’s expression truly had shifted from ‘firmly murderous’ to ‘more than slightly amused.’

With his hands now free, the gunslinger reached down to cup your jaw, calloused thumb passing idly over your lips as if inspecting you.

“My, you certainly are a pretty thing, aren’t ya,” he mused. “Never woulda guessed what with all the blood yer always covered in.”

Without the immediate threat of death looming over your head, you allowed your shoulders to loosen. You shifted forward in your seat, one hand sliding from his belt to linger now on his thigh. Time to really go for it. “Maybe we could work out some kind of...trade.”

“Oh?” He asked, smug. “And what could you possibly offer me that I couldn’t just take?”

“Been told I’m pretty good with my mouth,” you said matter of factly, purposely ignoring the second half of the question. You tilted your chin upwards slightly, both hands coming up now to catch the gunslinger’s hand as his thumb lingered by your mouth. You parted your lips slightly, taking the tip of the aforementioned digit into your mouth and closing your teeth playfully around it.

The taste that hit your tongue wasn’t as unpleasant as you thought it might be, all dust and faded tobacco and some sort of bitter machine oil. Certainly not a deterrent. “Just say the word, cowboy, and I’ll get on my knees and take you for one hell of a ride.”

The gunslinger said nothing at first, as if processing the information he was given. Finally after a moment he spoke.

“I’ll do you one better, girlie,” he grinned. He moved quickly then, giving you only a few seconds to process what was said before he was lifting you out of your chair, settling you with ease on the dusty piano top. “Won’t even have to get on your knees for it.”

You froze at the suddenness with which he moved you, reminiscent of a deer in headlights. You regained your bravado quickly however,  lifting one thigh and then the other as you freed your dress from where it had become trapped beneath you. “Is that so?” You asked.

He watched the movement of the fabric with hungry eyes, his calloused hands moving from their resting position at your waist downwards, trailing your hips before settling firmly on your closed thighs.

Your heart leapt into your throat as exploratory fingers dipped below your skirt to find the top of one stocking, hooking a finger beneath the garter and snapping it lightly against your thigh. You squirmed, your eyes glued helplessly on his long fingers as he began to push the fabric up and out of the way.

“Reckon you’ll have to pardon my eagerness,” the man said, though the crooked grin on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t as apologetic as he tried to appear. “Suppose if I was a gentleman I might be takin’ this a little slower,” he mused, meeting your eyes before continuing. “But it’s been a long time since I was a gentleman…and I’m in a mighty big hurry to get started.”

From here the gunslinger made quick work of your garter clasps, his deft fingers moving immediately upwards to catch the edge of your delicate ruffled bloomers.

You could feel yourself blushing heavily in anticipation, too warm, almost dizzying as the heat crept further into your chest and face.

The man paused, his predatory gaze finally straying from your lower half to meet your eyes. His lopsided smirk widened further as he seemed to catch sight of your frazzled expression. “You pick these out?” He asked teasingly, tugging playfully at the fabric.

You opened your mouth to speak, your long overheated brain struggling and failing to churn out a suitable answer. “No,” you said instead, decidedly less than intelligent.

He chuckled at this, seemingly amused as he worked the undergarments down your thighs and then over your boots with ease.

You inhaled sharply at the experimental prodding of his fingers at your entrance, the almost gentle way he pressed forward before withdrawing, spreading your growing slick in his wake.

The sounds of your wetness were already audible -embarrassingly so- even over your shaky breathing and the screech of the buzzards outside. You closed your eyes, attempting to ignore the lewdness of the sound but finding this only served to deepen your blush and make you wetter.

“This doin’ somethin’ for you, sweetheart?” The cowboy asked, entirely too self-satisfied for your liking. “Or are you just easily excited?”

You chose to remain silent, a futile attempt to preserve the small amount of dignity you had left.

When he placed his hand on your middle and guided you back gently, you took the hint, supporting your weight with your arms as you leaned backwards to give him better access. From here he bent forward to get a better look at you, large hands forcing your thighs wide, grunting in annoyance when the brim of his large hat bumped against your stomach.

“Damn hat,” he muttered, his tone edging on irritated as he all but snatched the offending accessory from his head and placed it swiftly on top of your own. “Hold this for me, would you?”

You reached up reflexively, grabbing the brim of the old hat and lifting it slightly where it had fallen into your eyes.

You jolted at the first touch of his lips, sudden and bold, cheeks flushed and eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of his harsh stubble on your delicate inner thighs.

“Christ,” you said, too caught off guard to say anything else.

“We’re just gettin’ started.”

His mouth was hot against you, impossibly wet, the movements of his tongue languid and unhurried, thorough as if he planned to explore every inch of you and thought himself to have all the time in the world. The gunslinger’s hands were fire where they met your skin, his calloused fingertips tracing the edges of your stockings with teasing almost feather-light touches.

You lost yourself in a sea of heat, nerve endings alight with pleasure as he really set to work. In the distance you heard a generator roar to life, so far away that you weren’t entirely sure you had heard it at all. How many was that now? Two? Three?

He flattened his tongue against you, the pressure suddenly merciless when combined with the chapped lips and the barest hint of the man’s teeth. You began to squirm, the noises now slipping freely from your lips before you could stop them. You reached for him, your shaking fingers grasping desperately at his coat collar to drag him in closer before you could think better of it.

The gunslinger shifted his weight from one leg and then the other, hooking his arms around your thighs and dragging you to the edge of the piano top and closer still to his mouth. He hooked one of your knees over his shoulder, grinning against your inner thigh as he found a new angle that seemed to please him.

You made a small noise when he pressed one of his long fingers inside of you unexpectedly, a whine slipping from between parted lips as he twisted the digit this way and that. Your hips jolted involuntarily, the action surprising you in its abruptness. Your roving hands flew from the uncomfortable hold on his collar to scrabble uselessly at whatever else you could find, settling eventually on the cowboy’s hat as it rested on your head.

You grabbed the brim with both hands, pulling it down to hide your embarrassment as the gunslinger worked you open with all the experience of a man who had done this many times.

“Now, now,” he chastised, one arm moving from where it curled around your thigh to reach up, pulling the hat from your hands easily and replacing it atop your head in its original position. He flicked the brim teasingly, knocking it upwards and away from your eyes. “No hidin’, girlie.”

You gasped when he added a second finger alongside the first, your body suddenly overwhelmed entirely by the sensation. You twisted in his hold, thighs quaking and toes curling in your boots as the man continued his onslaught.

He chuckled then, a deep rumbling sound that sent another wave of liquid fire to your lower abdomen.

“You’re a sweet little thing, ain’t ya? So warm and welcomin’ for me...squeezing my fingers like you ain’t got no desire to ever see me go,” he teased. His cheeks were flushed, obvious now where you weren’t entirely sure before, sun damaged face ruddy even beneath the thin layer of dirt that coated him. His breath was hot where it fanned against your inner thighs, something you were acutely aware of as he went on. “…and wetter than a goddamn thunderstorm already,” he continued with a grin, seeming to revel in your squirming. “You sure don’t disappoint, do ya?”

You could feel your face heat impossibly further under the scrutiny, shaking legs attempting and failing to squeeze shut subconsciously as the man’s words began to register in your delayed brain.

He gave another raspy laugh, as if amused by the halfhearted attempt.

“Aww, now don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he grinned, turning his head to deliver a playful nip to your inner thigh. You could feel his large hands on your trembling knees, spreading them to their previous positions and then a little beyond that, exposing you obscenely to his hungry gaze.

As he brought his mouth back to your heated flesh, you realized you had never felt like this before, so entirely overwhelmed and thoroughly devoured.

This was going to ruin you.

There was movement to your right, a flash of pink just beyond the window, and you shifted your eyes to it instinctively.

Ace’s eyes were unreadable behind his reflective lenses, his lips pressed into a tense line, more serious perhaps than you had ever seen him. He lifted his hand slowly, raising his thumb first in question before rotating his wrist nearly a full 180 degrees and giving the universal signal for thumbs down.

You blinked slowly in confusion, eyes moving from the man’s hand then to his face and then back again. You knew you were supposed to say something here, or maybe do something. Your thought process was slowed nearly to nothing as the cowboy fucked you mercilessly with his fingers and tongue.

You were surprised to hear the tall man speak suddenly, the sound all but snapping you from your trance as you continued to stare with unfocused eyes towards the newcomer.

“He’s askin’ if you’re alright,” the gunslinger said, finally dragging himself from your lower half as if that was the last thing he wanted to do. He sneered, shooting a scathing look towards the interruption, impatient in a way you knew would mean trouble for Ace later. “Reckon you should answer him so we can go about our business.” Here he paused, mischievous glint in his eyes as he tilted his head teasingly at you. “Unless yer lookin’ to give the man a show.”

You mulled this over for a moment, seconds stretching on, not so much entertaining the idea of giving Ace a front row seat to your escapade so much as trying to remember how to string together words to make a coherent thought. “Oh,” you said finally, licking idly at your lips. Right. “I’m…I’m good,” you called, your voice cracking under the strain.

“Just good, huh?” The gunslinger teased. His long, dexterous fingers crept back to their original positions on your flushed skin. “Thinkin’ we can do a little better than just good.”

In the time it took for you to realize what was about to happen, he was on you again, delving forward to press his tongue inside of you once more.

You arched in surprise, sitting completely upright now as opposed to your relaxed, blissed out posture from only a moment ago, your own fingers twitching restlessly against your thighs. You gasped softly, eyes darting towards Ace again to find that his expression had changed entirely, smirk curling his lips now where only concern had been before. He tipped his cap at you, head tilted in a small nod and his grin growing ever broader when you reached up reflexively to tip the cowboy’s hat in return.

And then as quickly as the gambler appeared, he was gone, your attention shifting immediately back to the gunslinger as he pressed his fingers inside you again. You reveled in the delicious stretch, the digits thick and pleasant as he scissored them within you. Your legs shook, twinging muscles threatening to cramp as the gunslinger held them in their current positions, stretched too wide for too long.

Your hand dove to grab the edge of the piano top when his tongue found your clit, circling it first before beginning to lick it, all teasing thrown out the window now as he set to work in earnest.

“Quite the gentleman droppin’ in to check on you,” the cowboy sneered between punishing licks. His eyes cut suddenly towards the window, as if scanning for the other man. He gave a pleased hum to see that the other man had moved along, the noise vibrating deliciously against your skin. “Was wonderin’ when he was gonna make himself known,” the gunslinger grinned. “Been standing there an awful long time just a’watchin’.”

“If it was anyone else, I’d probably have the common sense to be embarrassed,” you gasped, head tipped back now as you lost yourself in the rhythm of his long fingers as they rocked in and out. “Ace…” you continued, breath hitching as the gunslinger picked up his pace. “Ace is Ace.”

“Not a fan of that one,” the cowboy said offhandedly. “Beat me in cards once. He cheats.”

“He’s just lucky.”

“He cheats,” the man said again, firm, the tone brooking no argument. The bottom half of the cowboy’s face was shiny and wet, and you found yourself distracted by his tongue as it slid from between his chapped lips to run his tongue through it.

“Okay,” you said dumbly. “Okay.”

There was the abrupt sound of a generator being completed, a sudden blinding brightness that shone through the windows and had you squinting your eyes.

“Ah,” the gunslinger said. “Reckon that’s my cue to finish this up.”

You nearly arched off the piano top when he dove back in purposefully, all tongue and lips and fingers that plunged in and out, in and out. He pinned you easily as you squirmed, movements becoming increasingly more wild as he continued his merciless assault. You could feel the build up in your lower stomach, nerve endings alight as your body struggled to process the gunslinger’s ministrations.

When had you started panting?

“Maybe if you ask real sweet, I’ll - “

“Please,” you said immediately, the word falling from your lips before he could finish his thought. You weren’t above begging. You were so close now, teetering on the precipice, any bit of hesitancy you had before completely thrown out the window in the wake of your impending orgasm.

You began to plead in earnest, the same word spoken over and over again -please, please, please- so many times now that the word began to lose its meaning.

You were beyond incoherent, you knew, entirely incomprehensible as the cowboy worked you so thoroughly that you could swear you saw stars. “Please,” you begged, desperate in a way that would surely embarrass you later. “Please, please.”

The gunslinger said something in his gravelly voice, his tone distinctly pleased but overshadowed by your shameless begging. When his thumb met your clit, you gave a sharp inhale as you were pushed over the edge, less a gentle step into the unknown and more a runaway train careening off the tracks.

Despite the build up, you were entirely unprepared for the orgasm that tore through you. It was all encompassing, intense in a way that you had never experienced. Your entire body shuddered, knees and thighs quaking on either side of the gunslinger’s head, thoroughly overwhelmed. You whined when he continued to lick into you despite the overstimulation, his long fingers still pumping in and out even as you squirmed and twisted.

Then all at once the stimulation was gone and you could breathe again.

The gunslinger began to pull away from you, his voice barely muffled against your skin as he spoke once more. His voice was deep, husky and too low to hear over the blood that still rushed loudly in your own ears.

“What?” You asked, flushed chest still heaving as your head continued to clear. You felt like you were underwater, like you could see the cowboy’s mouth moving but couldn’t make your brain understand what was being said.

The gunslinger straightened, finally returning to his full height as he wiped the slick off his face with one dusty sleeve. He opened his mouth again, a sudden sickening ‘pop’  filling the air as he corrected his crooked jaw. He gave a soft grunt of pain, one hand coming up to cup his face in a way that indicated that this was not an unusual occurrence.

“Said my jaw is hurtin’ like a sonuvabitch,” he repeated, grimacing as he shifted his jaw from one side and then the other as if trying to keep it from becoming stiff again. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t make it worth my while, though.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, overtly aware of the awkwardness as it began to seep back into the situation without his hands and mouth to occupy you.

You made a small noise of surprise when he grabbed you around your waist suddenly, lifting you from the piano and setting you down as easily as he had lifted you in the first place. Your legs felt wobbly underneath you, unsteady, a feeling you tried to brush away as you smoothed your skirt back into a position you deemed acceptable.

The gunslinger watched the movement of your skirt with rapt attention, much in the same way he’d watched it earlier when you were trying to tempt him.

”Nothin’ left to do but leave,” the tall man said idly. That strange glint had returned to his eyes, any warmth fading as he reached behind you for his weapon. “Reckon you oughta head out as soon as those gates are open if you want to make it out in one piece.”

Uh oh.

“Go on now,” he grinned, all teeth, unkind and dangerous in a way that sent a chill down your spine. He stepped into your space, standing nearly two heads taller than you as he plucked his hat from your head. “Trust me when I say you don’t wanna test me.”

You yelped when he delivered a sudden sharp slap to your rear, the contact finally spurning you into action. You stumbled down the saloon stairs and back onto the dusty street, one arm coming up to block the too-bright light as your eyes struggled to adjust.

Behind you, the gunslinger laughed, raspy and low. “Find me in the fog any time, girlie.”

You shot one last glance over your shoulder as you hurried along, making your way quickly towards the nearest gate as it loomed heavy and industrial at the end of the street.

In the distance you heard a scream, ear piercing and guttural. You sucked in a breath, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other as if debating what to do, the cowboy’s words from earlier echoing suddenly in your head.

‘Reckon you oughta head out as soon as those gates are open if you want to make it out in one piece.’

In the distance another scream rang out, echoing across the prairie.

You didn’t stick around to hear a third.