#the knots are coming

[magicbystarlight]

Before I Knew You - Part Nine

Masterlist, Part One

I appreciate all the love this fic gets, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get the next chapter up. Thank you for reading ❤️

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 3,507

Warnings: 18+, smuuuuut, fingering, unprotected sex (there won't be any suprise pregnacy, let's just pretend all witches and wizards are on birth control), jealousy, self-image issues, Bill being a cocky little shit, some dom Bill/sub reader undertones. Minors DNI.

A/N: If you requested to be on the taglist and found that you weren’t on it, it’s mostly likely because there is not an indicator on your blog that you are 18+ which is a requirement for my taglists.

“We can discuss it more tomorrow. After he leaves.”

You’d fled left his room quickly after. 

What had you done? Why had you offered to have sex with Bill Weasley?

You knew why. 

It was Bill Weasley. One look at him explained why. But still, it was a bad idea. He was your patient. And you were technically under his protection. It was a bad idea. Really. Truly. But you couldn’t come up with an excuse convincing enough to talk yourself out of it. 

At least he won’t be in pain, you told yourself.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, though in honesty you hadn’t slept well since that last night in Bill’s arms before Kingsley's arrival. But the tossing and turning of other nights was stilled, your eyes boring into the ceiling until the morning sun chased out the void. 

Bill was in a far better mood at breakfast. Though the conversation was far from light as Kingsley’s plans and Death Eater activity were discussed, the underlying animosity that had been a defining trait of Bill’s tone in the weeks following Kingsley’s arrival was noticeably missing. Even as he left to work, Bill’s attitude was unusually chipper.

Kingsley himself seemed in a jolly mood as you checked him over for the final time. 

“It has been very nice to get to know you better, but I have been laying in bed too long. And I wouldn’t mind a bit of payback,” he said as you jotted down the results of the diagnostic spells.

He wasn't quite as good as he had been before the attack, but he was improving. His magic worked just the same.  As far as you could tell there had been no complications of your blood mixing with his. The logical part of you knew there wouldn't be any. But years of Mudblood being mumbled from people passing you in the halls was difficult to forget. 

“Take it slow for a couple days though, okay? And don’t skip any meals and drink lots of water. If you feel even the least bit unwell or out of sorts, come straight back.”

“I’ll take care of myself. Maybe not as well as you have but," he smiled out at the ocean beyond the window as it crashed into the beach, “I have made it this far in life mostly by myself.”

The words made your heart hurt. Alastor had made it further in life, survived terrible things, yet he was gone now. Dumbledore was too. It had only taken one moment in the wrong place at the wrong time for even the most powerful and experienced wizards to be nothing but corpses. “Still, avoid the revenge plots for a week or two. Or three.”

He made no agreement to that.

The final hours of Kingsley's stay at Shell Cottage ticked by at an odd pace. There were moments that seemed to rush by as you helped him pack away what he would need. A tent Bill had pulled out of somewhere. Some defense items from Fred and George. Food. Other moments would linger unendingly. When you were alone with your thoughts and worries as Kingsley napped. Standing beneath the stream of water as every terrible thought ran through your mind. 

He could change his mind. He could have only agreed to buy himself time to let you down easier. Worse, he could have been serious. He could actually have been serious about it, but not because he wanted you. “Well not you specifically! Just the fact that you’re, you know, a person who isn’t related and, um, of the right age…”

If Bill hadn't been inflicted with his cursed wounds he would have never spared you a second glance. You weren't ugly, not by any means, but you were no Fleur. Men did not struggle to speak comprehensively in your presence. Women did not envy your very existence. You were simple. Ordinary. Pretty, but not stunning. And Bill was…extraordinary. Even with—especially with—his scars. If he had more choices, you couldn't delude yourself into believing you would make the cut. 

Those thoughts haunted you until Bill strolled in with a wide grin just before the clock read six. Kingsley was standing beside you in the kitchen watching you plate out hearty servings of shepherd’s pie. Bill's smile didn't disappear when he took in the scene, but it tightened and no longer met his eyes. 

Dinner was nothing like breakfast. Bill's gaze was searing as he sat beside you. You could feel him shift during every interaction between you and the Auror. It was like you were under observation and he did not like what he was seeing. Not that Kingsley seemed to take notice. He smiled and laughed like he was at the Burrow again, regaling a crowd of eager listeners with well practiced tales of grandiose adventure. You tried your best to follow along, but Bill was less willing to let you do so. 

At some point after the food had been finished, he’d slung an arm across the back of your chair and let his legs spread wide. Focusing on anything other than the fingers that occasionally grazed your arm or the thigh that rested lightly against yours was nearly impossible. By time the clock struck eight and Kingsley pulled his pack of supplies across his shoulder you were surprised to find yourself able to stand. 

"Take care of yourself," Kingsley said as he embraced you tightly at the door. "I am sure I shall see you again very soon." 

"Not too soon. And less bloody, please."

"I will do my best."

Bill's ears had turned a rather deep shade of crimson when Kingsley pulled away from you. You stayed behind in the kitchen to clean the last of the dishes as Bill walked him out.

The water stung as you scrubbed. Magic could have taken care of these in half the time, but the distraction was good. If you focused too much on what would happen next you were sure you would combust. Unfortunately, you ran out of dishes before you heard the pop expected of Disapparition. It made you wonder if they'd gotten lost in conversation over some Order business and if Bill had forgotten all about you. Or perhaps he was just trying to delay the time before he had to face you alone.

You shut off the water, grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands, and turned wondering if you should check in only to have your heart try to leap up your throat at the figure standing in the open doorway.

 "For Helga's sake," you huffed, hand over your chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

"He's gone," Bill said. 

"Good." You fidgeted with the towel. "We can talk."

"Talk," he said softly. The door shut loudly as he left its frame, stalking towards you. It wasn't until your back met the counter that you realized you'd been stepping back.  "I'll be bloody honest with you.” His arms were on either side to cage you in an instant. “I've spent the last twenty blasted hours thinking about how your cunt will feel wrapped around my cock—” 

The towel slipped from your hands.

“—and I don't think I'll be very intelligible until I've found out. So unless you've changed your mind, we can talk tomorrow." 

Helga help you.

He leaned in. "Have you changed your mind?"

You shook your head.

"Words, love. Use your words."

"No, sir." The words came out so low, you weren't sure they could be heard.

His forehead came to rest against yours as his eyes clenched shut. "You're going to be the death of me."

"That's sorta the opposite of what I'm trying to do," you breathed in barely more than a whisper.

His hands were on your waist, pulling himself closer. They moved slowly down your hips and back up your waist. "Is it?"

A “mmphmm” was your only response as he cupped your face. 

“Then I suppose I should kiss you before I die of curiosity.”

His lips caught yours and the world shifted. There was no air in your lungs. No beating in your heart. Nothing but his lips against yours. You had never been kissed before. Not like that. Whatever it was that you had done before couldn't even be considered anything like this. 

The moment shattered when he pulled away. A deep breath in. An almost painful hammering against your chest.

A whispered, "I'm fucked," was the last thing he said before he came crashing back. 

The calluses on his palm were rough against skin as they slid under your shirt and his tongue slipped past your lips when the feel made you gasp. It wasn't like the awkward fumblings and hesitant touches you'd experienced with Cillian, both of you still figuring it out quietly in your childhood bedroom. Bill's hands were sure of themselves as they pushed under your bra and rolled his thumbs over your nipples.

"I can already smell you." The palm of a hand flattened against your stomach and slid under the band of your pants and knickers. "Bloody hell," he said, a long finger gliding along the slick folds before plunging in, "I can just slip right in, can't I?"

You grabbed a hold of his shoulder, knees shaking beneath you. "Don't tease me," you groaned, clenching as the finger withdrew.

"This isn't teasing," he grinned, pushing it back in with a second as you squirmed. "I'll show you what teasing really is another day when I'm feeling a little more patient."

Your head fell back as his fingers worked within you like they were magic themselves. Your own had never felt this good. Nothing had ever felt this good. 

A surprised squeak escaped as his fingers retreated and you were suddenly lifted in the air and slung over his shoulders like you weighed nothing. 

“Sorry,” he said, sounding unapologetic. The soft cushions of the couch met your back as he set you down. Your jeans were undone and pulled off your legs a breath later followed by your knickers.

Instinctively, your legs tried to clamp shut to shield yourself from the hungry gaze. But Bill was faster and stronger and pried them apart. “Don’t hide from me.” The tone was stern and your legs relaxed. The blue of his eyes had darkened like the sky before a storm as he kneeled between them. His hands traveled along your thighs, over your hips, pushing the hem of your shirt up. "Take this off." It was barely over your head before he reached between you and the couch and unhooked your bra with an ease even you couldn't have accomplished.

You were hesitant to shed the last layer as the earlier worries filled your head, folding your arms to prevent the straps from falling down your arms. The dread that he'd find you as ordinary as you were pooled in your stomach.

"Why are you hiding from me?" The gentleness of his question was a stark contrast to his earlier demands. 

"I—" What could you tell him? You were scared he'd stop finding you attractive the moment he looked at your body? No. You stared at him. He was still kneeling between your spread legs. Fully clothed. "It's weird being the only one naked."

The smug satisfaction that took over his face made you wish the couch would swallow you. 

He bent forward and pressed a kiss against the your inner thigh. "Is it?" The words reverberated off your skin before he moved to the other side to repeat the kiss. "I don't recall you having a problem with it when you were the one asking me to take off my shirt for you.”

You’d only ever had him remove his shirt when you were conducting a physical. “That wa—”

“Different?” he interjected mockingly, hands finding the crease of your hips. “Why? Because you were the one in charge then?”

“I wasn’t—it was—" His grip made thoughts hard to articulate. The worries of earlier forgotten in the haze of his fingers dragging across skin. "It was a very different situation.”

His touch disappeared and the couch shifted as he straightened. "I suppose it was." You were entranced watching his fingers as he undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing a scene you'd already witnessed but never truly appreciated when the shirt was tossed to the floor. He'd gained weight since that day he'd been brought into the Hospital Wing. Slender still, but with muscles more defined. The scars were much the same having never properly healed, though they seemed to have been pulled taut across his frame.

"Because I had to sit in that bed in that room alone with you," he continued, deft fingers now working at undoing his pants, "and undress for you," he pushed them down, shifting awkwardly to pull them off his feet behind him, "and I couldn't tell you how much I wanted to fuck you."

He was left only in boxers strained nearly beyond their limits. You'd thought it had felt big, but…fuck. 

“You're drooling, love."

Your hands shot up, wiping at your mouth and allowing the bra you'd been clutching to fall away. 

It was impossible to miss the way the fabric tightened as his cock twitched. "Well ain't that a fuckin' sight." 

Then he was over you again, caging your body between his and the couch, claiming your lips. You could feel his cock pressing against you, the fabric growing damp as he ground down. The sensations were enough to get lost in as his hands began to roam. A stuttering gasp escaped as his clothed cock rubbed against your clit when his hips bucked. His lips trailed kisses to your ear as he did it again, your nails digging into his back with a whimper. 

"Gods, don't you sound desperate?" he hummed against your ear, smiling against it as his hips pulled another whimper from you. "These little noises are why I couldn't fuck you yesterday. Wanted them to be for my ears only."

Cocky fucking Gryffindor.

“Are you even going to fuck me today?” 

A dark chuckle sent vibrations through you as most of his body stilled. “If I knew you were gonna be such a brat,” one of his hands reached down and tugged his waistband, “I’d have put your mouth to better use.”

An audible smack came when his cock was freed and fell against your mound. A shiver of excitement coursed through you as he nuzzled into your neck. His hips moved back, dragging the head down over your clit and between your weeping lips. He held it there for what must have been an eternity before you whined, “Bill.”

Your hips tried to push upwards, but his hand moved to hold you firmly in place. “Yes, love?”

“Please.”

"Please what?"

Your fingers slipped through the strands of his hair and tugged until he lifted his face. "Fuck me, please."

His gaze threatened to drown you as he finally gave in to the plea and eased his cock into your eager folds. He moved slowly, your body arching with the welcome intrusion. A raspy groan of satisfaction escaped as he filled you. Your eyes fluttered at the almost painful stretch he caused.

“Gods.” He groaned, pulling out all but the tip. “Even better than I imagined.” The force of his return jolted your body, your hands gripping his biceps to brace for the next impact as his cock retreated again. "So much fucking better."

Your soft sounds of before turned high and sharp as his thrusts wrecked you. One hand held your hip and the other held his body as he leaned forward to swallow the sounds in a fevered kiss. The feeling was all consuming, each stroke a wave of pleasure that shook the ground.  It was like nothing with…

Bill drew back, his eyes following the path of his hand as it traced down your face and neck to sweep over your breasts. He continued lower until it joined his other. His mouth parted as his gaze turned to admiring how his cock sunk into you. It was a beautifully vulgar sight.

Your own admiration was rewarded with a hiss as you clenched around him. Emboldened, you did it again. The steady pace he had set faltered. 

Sharp blue eyes cut to yours, unamused. “Brat.” 

A pleased grin broke across your face and you clenched again. Rough pressure against your clit wiped it off your face a second later.

“That’s more like it,” he said as his thumb drew tight circles around the bundle of nerves. 

He found his rhythm once more despite your involuntary hold on his cock his minstraitions caused. Your hands gripped the couch as the pleasure began to roll over you in waves. "Bill," you quivered, "I think I'm—I think—"

"No need to think, love." His thrusts quickened. "Just cum on my cock for me, yeah?"

Your body willingly obliged, arching breathlessly as you were finally dragged under.

Bill cursed, his even pace once more interrupted as he felt you convulse around him. His hips continued to slam haphazardly into yours as the air returned to your lungs. Your back had barely met the couch again before you were lifted again. The haze of your orgasam left you dizzy and clinging to Bill as he moved, only realizing he had arranged himself into a seated position when he pulled you down on his cock. 

The sensations were overwhelming, his size emphasized by the position. Your mouth opened to tell him it was too much, but the words were abandoned with another kiss. His release followed a moment later with his warmth coating your cunt.

The kiss broke. You sat there, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving, for a while. 

“You okay?” His voice was hoarse. 

“Yeah.” You pulled away, remembering his condition that had led to this. “And you? How are you feeling?”

“Uhh uhh,” he chastised, “no Healer questions when you’ve got my cum leaking out of you.”

He chuckled as you slapped his shoulder. “Fine.” With reluctance, you lifted off of him and grimaced at the feeling. “Then I’m going to shower and when I come back you’re going to answer.”

—

For the second time that day, you stood under the blistering downpour and wondered if you’d made a mistake.

The ghost of his touch still lingered as you scrubbed, taunting. Every inch of skin tingled in anticipation for more. Cause gods, who wouldn’t want more?

Despite the full meal he’d eaten earlier, Bill’s appetite seemed to have returned with a vengeance. When you returned showered he was sitting at the table in only his boxers with the remaining half of the shepherd’s pie and wand discarded beside it. "Are you hungry?" he asked, offering you his spoon as you sat across from him. You shook your head and declined with a small wave. You watched him scoop a spoonful into his mouth. He looked glowing, almost. Relaxed in a way you'd never witnessed. 

No, that wasn't quite right. You had seen him this serene once. Laying half mutilated in a hospital bed, laughing with his sibling before he'd heard of Fleur's horrified departure. 

The sleeve of your sweater became very interesting as you began to pick at it. "So how are you feeling?"

He took his time chewing, putting the spoon down and threading his fingers together to rest his chin against. "Like I just got shagged."

You huffed.

"It's a bloody great feeling, innit? Especially remembering your face when I—"

"Bill, I'm serious." You looked up at him wearing a mask you'd perfected during the years in the Hospital Wing. "There's no point in us…shagging if it's not alleviating your symptoms."

His face dropped. “I thought you enjoyed it.” 

The hurt in his voice made you flounder. “Of course I enjoyed it. It was—fuck it was great.” You rubbed at your forehead. “But I’m your Healer. My main priority is your health. And if this is not benefiting it, then we need to start looking into other options.”

He glared, accusingly. “Other options like you leaving?”

“If you can’t tell me how you’re feeling, maybe.”

You winced watching his body tense. It felt too familiar. A scene that had been played out before.

His hands fell to the table as he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t smell him as much. His scent is still here, lingering, but it doesn't bother me. I feel—or felt—content."

"Is it because he's gone?"

His head shook.

Outside the window, the waxing moon stood proudly over the ocean. "We'll see how you feel tomorrow and run a full diagnostic. Figure out how we’ll deal with the full moon.”

The chair scraped against the floor as he stood. “Right, tomorrow then.” With a wave of his wand, the food and utensil flew back to the kitchen into their proper places. “I’m gonna head off to bed.”

“Goodnight.” You said nothing more as he climbed the stairs.

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ❤️

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[zlarirosa]

harry likes laying on his husband every morning in hopes of him letting the both of them call a day off for once. it's worked once, so it might work again

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 179

“Pa, there’s a weird lookin’ cat outside!” 

 -Said by a sleep deprived Danny Phantom while in Clockwork’s Lair, about a hero displaced in time. Clockwork is in fact amused. Batman is simply confused about the entire situation.  

[allyricas]

i went from purposefully filtering any omegaverse stuff to...thinking up scenarios about omegaverse steddie wtf these two have control of my brain ratatouille style and instead of cooking, they make me daydream and then write silly ideas about them all the time.

anyways season 3 au where getting tortured causes steve to present as an omega but it's like the worst timing ever! thank god recently presented alpha eddie munson is around to step in. make it omegaverse fated mates protective eddie... all the good shit.

i keep imagining eddie, a guy that would absolutely would run away from danger 99 percent of the time, fighting against interdimensional monsters and billy hargrove because um, no one is going to fucking touch steve because that is his omega.

and of course, the whole time steve can barely restrain himself from crawling all over eddie. steve has never wanted someone so badly... poor eddie's fighting his urges but ...he can smell steve, smell how much steve wants him.

the second everything settles down and steve is medically cleared, he carries him away and takes care of him, tends to his wounds, helps him clean up and feeds him. then of course, they make sweet love and never leave each other's side again basically.

[marblegroves]

Last life charoite take 2! Feeling a lot better with this design ^^

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Dews been taking testosterone since he’s been on earth. He’d gotten use to the bottom growth pretty quickly but years later he wasn’t expecting to be led on his bed, fingers circling his clit and to feel a little bump at the base. His eyes widen as he runs his fingertips over the bump. It’s so sensitive, it makes him whimper as his clit twitches and string of slick drools out of him. He can’t stop touching it, feeling it grow bigger and more sensitive under his touch. A knot forms in the pit of his stomach the more he plays with it, the more he teases it, enjoying the feeling. Until that pit gets deeper and more intense and he’s cumming with a loud cry. Instinctually he squeezes around the bump with two fingers making that pit in his belly turn red hot as it expands even more until it’s as bit it’s going to get and he gushes around nothing, body going rigid and his legs begin to shake. He whines and pants as he comes down, blinking his eyes to try and clear the black spots from his sight. His fingers loosen from their tight grip on the bump but his belly swoops in the most intense unpleasant way. He hisses and lets out a whine at the feeling, quickly squeezing around the the bump again, feeling it throb at the touch. Once the daze and confusion from his orgasm has worn off, he realises with a start what it is. It’s a knot. He has a knot. He groans and squeezes it again, moaning as it throbs again. He has a knot.

[terapsina]

Let's talk books. Sorted in threes by vibes.

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I Support Women's Wrongs (murder, slaughter and body horror galore).

---

How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Django Wexler - A woman from Earth is dropped into a magical realm, meant to save the Kingdom from the FoRCes of DaRKneSSss... except, unfortunately that might have been a thousand years worth of time loops ago, so it's rather time to lose one's temper and decide to become the Dark Lord herself.

Main character -> basically Deadpool (measured in sanity, humor and levels of bisexual horniness)).

Someone You Can Build a Nest In ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by John Wiswell - Shesheshen, a shapechanging monster who's rudely interrupted during her hibernation by hunters. Manages to to eat one of them, unfortunately she also gets shot by an arrow and falls off a cliff. On the bright side she meets a lovely human woman she might end up falling in love with so much... she'll want to build a nest in her (it's possible there's some Cultural Differences that need to be worked through).

Hench ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Natalie Zina Walschots - Anna's latest temp job for a villain (because even supervillains need office help) ends with her carelessly injured by a superhero, laid off and with injured mobility for the foreseeable future (because human bodies don't see much difference between getting hit by a truck and getting moved out of way by someone able to pick up a truck). Angry, disillusioned, and looking for some vengeful payback she starts compiling the statistics of exactly how much suffering gets left behind the heroes and in quick order finds a new job working for one of the worst supervillains in the neighborhood.

-------

Extremely Competent Women Show Up to Fix Everyone's Shit (with a whallop of romance which was actually sweet instead of irritating)

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The Witchwood Knot ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Olivia Atwater - Winifred Hall was invited to the Witchwood Manor under the pretense of being the governess for a very bratty kid, but when said boy suddenly turns into a very quiet and perfectly bland boy overnight it's very obvious her charge has been stolen by faeries (and it might have something to do with the actual reason she's there). Rescue however is complicated by some factors, one, there being something terribly dark and wrong about the house (normal houses don't have screaming faces in the walls), another, the faerie man posing as the manor's butler who would very much like to make her run screaming the way so many servants had before her (unfortunately for him, she's not even half as scared of him as she is the eyes of the father of her charge).

This one's about dealing with past trauma, and otherworldly terrors paling in comparison to mundane monsters, set in a very beautiful and dark and shiver-inducing Victorian time world where the Fair Folk are very real.

(Same world as her Regency Faerie Tales trilogy that Started with Half a Soul but it's not necessary to read that one first to enjoy this one)

Keeper of Enchanted Rooms ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Charlie N. Holmberg - Merritt Fernsby inherits a house only to be immediately taken hostage by what turns out to be a very stubborn and opinionated magical house. Hulda Larkin of the Boston Institute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms goes there to facilitate the relationship between the house and its new owner.

It's supposed to be a very simple job. Unfortunately there's a third POV character in this book (no, not the Whimbrel House, though I adore that house and *insert here the Rosa Diaz gif about her new puppy and how she would kill everyone in this room and then herself if anything were to happen to that dog*). Anyway, they're a bit... uhhh... let's go with Bad News.

Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Heather Fawcett - As one might expect from the title, Emily (a Cambridge scholar) wants to write the first ever encyclopedia of faeries. And she's brilliant enough to do it, what she's terrible at is people (*insert autistic character alert here*).

Someone else might then say it's lucky that a fellow scholar with a far easier time at charming people has stuck his toes in her reaserch trip into the Hidden Ones... that person however doesn't understand how irritating, frustrating and maddening her academic rival Wendell Bambleby actually is.

What follows is a story filled with winter snows, some terrible fae, some adorable fae, some not-very-secret fae, the goodest of good dogs, and lots and lots of squabbling. It's the best.

-------

Dark and Impactful Stories about Children Who Decide on Their Own Paths

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A Skinful of Shadows ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Frances Hardinge - Kate, an orphan and the illegitimate daughter of some stuffy (and evil) aristocrats runs away because being a bastard doesn't mean she didn't inherit the family magic that allows her to get possessed by the dead.

A dead bear ghost is one thing, a Get Out situation is something else entirely.

A Sorceress Comes to Call ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by T. Kingfisher - Cordelia isn't allowed friends or the privacy of closed doors, and whenever she's done something she shouldn't - a category too unpredictable to guard against - she's not allowed power over her own body.

Because her mother is an evil sorceress (think Regina and Cora... except somehow even worse). An evil sorceress that has found herself a Squire to lure into a marriage.

Hester is an old maid living with her brother, a Squire (well look at them coincidences), when said brother acquires a woman clearly set on his fortune. The plan is only to save her brother, except Hester can't help noticing how the woman's daughter keeps flinching in her mother's presence.

In The Lives of Puppets ⭐⭐⭐⭐ by TJ Klune - A family can be an android inventor, his human son (*homoromantic asexual alert*), a sadistic nurse droid, and a very emotional roomba.

And it can be a very happy family. Until one uncovers and wakes up an android that shares a very Skynet past with one's father, said father gets kidnapped, and one has to go on a journey to get him back.

(A book I like to call Sci-fi Reverse Pinocchio)

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Unraveling an Unjust System (and a hero that - on a scale from occasionally to constantly - hears a disembodied voice directly in their heads okay the connection between these three is a bit of a stretch but they're all great books so shut up)

---

Hell for Hire ⭐⭐⭐⭐½ by Rachel Aaron - 5000 years ago Gilgamesh conquered the heavens, enslaved the demons and made it so that the only road to magic humanity had access, was through him.

Now, however a mercenary team made up of free demons gets hired by a Blackwood witch to protect him (and his familiar, the talking cat named Boston) while he puts down roots (literally) inside the new forest grove he's about to start so that he can stand up against the warlocks after him.

The witch quickly becomes the best client Bex and her crew have ever had (after all, warlocks under the rule of the Eternal King Gilgamesh are slavers of their kind, they are delighted at the chance to kill some).

Vespertine ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by Margaret Rogerson - In a world where the veil between the living and the dead has been kinda broken Artemisia (*another autistic character alert*) is training to be a Gray Sister (magic nun).

Until her convent gets attacked by possessed soldiers and she has no choice but to pick up a Saint's Relic containing a malevolent revenant to protect it.

Problem. Only a Vespertine is supposed to do it. Another problem. The only one "alive" who can teach her to be a Vespertine is the revenant. Another another problem. The revenant cannot be trusted and if she loses control to it, the death toll will be counted in cities.

Terminal Alliance ⭐⭐⭐⭐¾ by Jim C. Hines - Post Zombie Apocalypse, where some aliens showed up, sort of cured the zombies and took the (mostly) cured zombies into their military.

Which leads us to Marion Adamopoulos, also known as Mops, the Leutenant in charge of Shipboard Hygene and Sanitation of the Earth Mercenary Corps Ship Pufferfish.

Right up until a bioweapon turns the entire crew except her crew back into zombies. Congratulations, she's the captain now.

(Space Janitors save the universe story).

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[crybaby-bkg]

I know I've talked about bull and bear hybrid Bakugou, but has anyone ever talked about lion hybrid Bakugou???? I thought about this concept when I was still half asleep this morning but like,,,,

lion hybrid bakugou with his big ole head and even bigger mane of hair, all soft, colored like the sand you'd dig your toes into at the beach. he has a little scruff on his chin, but he never grows it out because he hates the upkeep of it.

he's always loud, growly yawns whenever you see him, his canines sharp and pointy when he opens his maw wide enough for you to peek in. he's so big and soft where it matters, lazes around all day everyday, and gets these big bursts of energy at the most random of moments. he's basically an overgrown cat basically

omg and he has this complex where he's just sooo high and mighty, like he's some king meant to be worshipped. but all you have to do is kiss his cheeks and rub a hand through his hair when he lays his big dumb head in your lap, and he's purring up a storm.

and and and lion hybrid bakugou whose tongue can feel so rough when he's feeling lazy about it, but somehow knows how to work it just right whenever he wants to lounge between your legs. gets so huffy and growly when you mumble that you can't cum anymore, just nudges your thighs a little wider with his shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against your mound. doesn't care to hear any of your complaining, because he's still eating and doesn't intend on finishing until he's ready.

omg and and lion hybrid bakugou whose favorite position is, of course, doggy style. but only because he gets to wrap your little dainty neck up in his powerful jaws and pin you there, likes how you whimper and shiver but go limp either way because you trust him with your life. he pins your arms beside your head and grunts so loud into your nape when he finally sinks his cock inside of you. he practically lays flat on top of you, just rutting his hips against your ass over and over until he knots you.

which is his favorite part because you two get to just lay there for what feel like hours, and you keep coming intermitally because he can't help but rut his hips a few more times, and hiss at the way his knot tugs at your clenching lips. sigh just lion hybrid bakugou who looks so mean and intimidating but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of you

[coolnonsenseworld]

When Keith says he'd break the world in half to protect him, Lance says he'd put it back together for him.

Out of all the Universes they got to know, the other is still closest to home.

Prints on pre-order -> linktr.ee/mezzy

[jtl-fics]

Man there is nothing worse than just wanting to read a fic that doesn't exist but also not having the will to write it.

I just want to read an Andrew who has a hard time keeping his hands off of Neil and always wanting to be like massaging him. Not even like in a spicy way just like he has Neil sit between his legs during movie night so that he can give Neil scalp massages and Neil has yet to make it through a movie when Andrew's hands are on him like this. Andrew sees Neil's shoulders all tense after he gets in his head about something and Andrew coming over and his fingers are digging into knots and rubbing Neil's neck. Neil ran a bit too far during his run and Andrew's got Neil's gross ass foot in his lap and looking at a reflexology notebook. Neil having a nightmare and Andrew's just rubbing his back.

I just desire Andrew being given blanket permission to touch Neil and using that permission to bring comfort.

[whatsfourteenupto]

Man in the progression from nine to thirteen you really truly can see the Doctor stretching like a rubber band until they snap and 14/15 happens

[rinbylin]

"what is the image of the ideal person..."

[firstfullmoon]

Christopher Citro, “The Sweet of Being Made Right”

[bookshelfdreams]

look look look at this handdyed fibre I got for christmas 😊

it's 250g of a bfl/silk/llama blend

i split each braid down the middle (more or less) to hopefully preserve the colour gradient & make some 2-ply

looks like it will come out to a light-fingering-to-fingering weight :D

[ebbpettier]

what do you mean with your hc that simon was always a dragon?

okay so this is one of my deepest most self indulgent headcanons because i'm gay and i think he deserves more and sharper teeth but it's extrapolated from a bunch of different details in the series: 1. we don't know what kind of blood davy used in the ritual. lucy couldn't identify it, but it almost definitely wasn't human. killing a dragon is one of the worst things you can do in the WoM and i really think davy isn't above that, at this point. (in terms of what i think the ritual entailed, i don't think he would have killed an adult dragon, either. a son for a son.) 2. simon's false feather wings dissolved in a bloody mess, but his dragon wings did not. iirc, he also had to wish for them, and penelope pointed out that this is fundamentally Not How Magic Works 3. penny also theorized that simon was actually turning INTO a dragon at the moment he got his wings, unless i'm misremembering again? its been a while since my last reread of the series and i have a memory disorder bear with me 4. "you don't kill a dragon unless you're trying to open a portal to hell" davy what did you do. DAVY, WHAT DID YOU DO. 5. once magic stops working on simon at all/after he loses his magic, the wings don't disappear, which makes me think they weren't powered by magic in the first place; they were just a part of his body. 6. margaret almost immediately (probably falsely but still) identifies him as a Kitten. she straight up thinks he's a baby dragon. maybe he smells like one, or feels like one, but i feel like she would be the most qualified to like ... tell? simon insists he isn't, but she seems confused and even a little put off when he tries to say he isn't just a lost dragon-kit. 7. when he's going off his magic is described as very blistery and prickly and black and red, and he glows and smokes and smells like a forest fire. dragon coded as fuuuuck 8. i think it would fucking rule I've never quite decided if i want it to be dragon ancestry, or if he's some kind of changeling via the ritual*, or something else, but the reason i draw the sword of mages with a fancy hilt shaped like a dragon is because i also headcanon that it looks different for everyone who wields it. (in my Baz Is The Heir AU: he summons it as a spada da lato, light as a feather with a handguard that curls like fire in a windstorm, inset with little sapphires) and simon's just ALWAYS been that dragony. i want him to grow more teeth, and they keep growing so he either has to accept them or have them pulled. i want his nails to be hard and sturdy as iron and he just never notices because he's always used them as tools, and he thought everyone's were like that. he bites them off because they break clippers. i want the red scales around the second set of deltoids (the ones on his wings) to start slowly creeping down his back and over his shoulders over time. because i think it would fucking rule. *i subscribe to this one the most, tho. makes sense. also i feel like the mage WouldTM.

[perfectlyripeclementine]

i uh. i thought about someone getting me wet & hard through my boxers and then having me put on my strap and taking their time tying some really pretty shibari over it. maybe they’d suck my strap too, make a whole show of what their tongue can do while i’m desperately wet. feeling my clit twitch at the sight of them. eventually they’d either have me shaking and whining to fuck them, or i’d lose my patience, push them onto their back and spread their legs. tell them how good they look, ask them if they think i’ll find them wet, if they think i should find out. resting the head of my cock at their entrance and letting them squirm until i feel their legs locking with mine, pulling me into them.