#c: starry eyed

[blockofhoney]

📺 ok ok uh *frantically searches brain for names of characters you like* uh. um. w. wilburr?

this took. quite a while for me to finish b/c i kept losing motivation on n off as i was drawing it but!! you gave me an excuse to draw wilbur in my pokemon au n for that i am eternally grateful 😌

[transthadymacdermot]

Finally figured out a design for aoife I think... my longest yeah boi ever etc

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WARM ME UP ; — cock-warming various blue lock boys.

FEATURING: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, bachira meguru + mikage reo.

warnings: f!reader, cockwarming, all characters written 22+, a little teasing in some, slight somno in bachi’s [hes inside of u before ur asleep], slight body worship (?) in reo’s, sensitive boys mostly. note: my mind spiralled w nagi’s first so that’s why his is longer but i decided 2 make it into hcs.

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO

“fuck—ah, y’re g’nna make me die, quit feeling sooo good ‘ts no fair.” nagi murmurs from where he’s got you spread across his lap, resting on the edge of his bed with his cock buried in your sweet walls as he tries to beat his own high score on his game.

you’d gotten a little bored watching him, a little needy as you pressed yourself up against him and admired the way he’d bite on his lower lip as he concentrated, skilful fingers tapping at the buttons on his controller as small, low grunts of frustration fell from his parted lips.

but nagi had welcomed you so easily when you’d made your way into his lap, lifting up his arms to allow you to slide right in before he sent you a lidded, questioning look when he felt you pull at the waistband of his sweats. “huh? ‘m in a game right now, angel.”

“it’ll help you concentrate, sei.. promise.”

it’s doing anything but though, the snowy-haired striker underneath you realises with another needy, warm twitch of your walls around him. even just the press of your chest against his is driving him crazy, feeling you press kisses along his jawline when he whines from missing another shot — he can barely concentrate on anything but you.

“no fair.. you made me miss another headshot, pretty thing.” nagi grumbles as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, sighing while a tight, cute pout rests on his lips. but it’s almost like an apology, the sinful press of your hips against his as you push closer — just enough to knock the air out of him when you press his cock even deeper into you.

“hey, c-come on! angel, y’re playing dirty, wanna up my online ranking.” there’s an unsteady waver to his words that’s followed by the instinctive twitch of his hips into yours, like he’s chasing more of the friction you're teasing him with as he sighs.

“think of it as a boss fight, sei.. don’t wanna make it too easy.” your words are whispery and pretty as you pull back to trace your fingertip across the shape of nagi’s jawline — drawing his full attention as his head twists to look at you. hes starry eyed and dazed, flushed from his cheeks to his neck and you’re pretty sure the eye contact alone makes his cock twitch from where it’s pressed into you.

“eh, ‘ts no fair when you know all my weaknesses, pretty thing. gotta try somethin’ else, i guess.” it’s drawled, filthy the low tone his voice takes before he’s drawing closer to kiss you, whimpering against your lips before he’s forgetting the controller in favour of grabbing you instead.

the quick movements are followed by your back meeting the mattress as he presses you into the sheets with every deep, messy press of his lips. “sei! your game.” you gasp when your words urge his first real thrust into you, so deep and good that your toes curl from where they’re wrapped around his hips.

“eh, it’s fine.. ‘ll beat it later, f-fuck—wanna win this side quest first.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE

sae was tired from practice today, but you were feeling particularly needy and as much as his muscles ached — he still couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage, especially when you were already palming at him just as he returned home.

“i’ve been at practice all day, know i’m tired. is this how you welcome me home?” he drawls from where he’s got you spread out against him — your back is resting against his chest as your head rolls back against his shoulder, thighs hooked over his own as his fingers circle your clit — unmoving even though his cock is already buried deep inside of you.

there’s a certain sharpness to sae’s tone that makes you twitch, shaking your head against him as your nails scratch along his forearm. you’re so desperate for him, for him to move and fuck you — it wouldn’t take much, not when he’s touching you just right, but it’s not enough — he knows that.

“just need you, sae. i, ah—missed you today..” your hips twitch above him, an obvious little plea as his cock brushes along the spongy spot inside of you but he’s too fast, sighing before his free hand is pressing your hips back tight against his.

"how much?" sae grunts with the sweet, frustrated whine that pushes past your lips as he grinds up into you - offering you an inch before he takes it from you completely, pressing a kiss against your shoulder after like hes trying to soothe you. "how much did you miss me, hm?"

the way he presses into your clit is deliberate, baring down harder on the puffy bud until you’re thighs are shaking and twitching, begging for him to hurry up and move. your lips part, head lolling back against his shoulder before he’s pressing another smeared kiss against your cheek, and sending you a sharp looks that’s urging you to hurry up and answer.

“so much, missed you so much! been waiting for you, sae.. wanted you here.” your voice breaks under the weight of your arousal but you swear you feel sae’s cock twitch at the sound. it’s followed by a low hum, like he’s considering your answer before his hand on your hip eases — finally letting you move with another slow roll of his own that presses his cock against the swollen, sweet spots inside of you.

“then take what you need, sweetheart. don’t keep me waiting.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN

it was impossible to move rin from his place on the couch when he’s examining team plays, his own most importantly — teeth gritting with concentration despite the way you’re pressed into his chest, palming at his body as his cock rests inside of your slick cunt.

but as good as it feels, finally having him buried in you like you asked, you’d rather he was moving — turning you to putty above him and fucking every single thought out of your mind that wasn’t him. so you decide to test the boundaries a little, shifting your hips deliberately until you feel his large palms squeeze at your hips and your boyfriend hiss from between his teeth.

“quit— fuck, quit it.” you almost shiver at the low, sharp tone rin’s voice takes but you can tell there’s no real irritation behind it when you notice the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. he’s just as wound up as you are, his brows crumbling as he tries to focus on the tv infront of him — nibbling on his lower lip to distract him from the warm squeeze of your walls.

“you said you wouldn’t move..” he grits, still refusing to meet your gaze despite the way every squeeze of your hands across his body makes his breathing hitch. you’ve got him so fucking wound up, he’s so lukewarm — so sensitive, he can’t even control himself for 10 fucking minutes.

“but i need you, rin. not my fault you feel so good.” rin can feel the back of his neck stinging with a flush when you smear a kiss along his jawline, making his fingers squeeze even tighter into your hips before he’s growling under his breath. but the way you purr when he readjusts himself beneath you, melting into him with a tiny, slight grind of his cock into you makes him feel fucking dizzy.

it’s fast, the way he’s suddenly readjusting his feet and beginning a pace that’s too quick, and if it wasn’t for his grip on you — you’d have bounced off of his lap completely. every wet smack of his hips is loud and clapping and driven by the pure determination to feel you creaming around him as he sends the game on the tv a lidded glare.

“can’t even control yourself—uggh, shit—you’ve got until the first half finishes to cum or ‘m stopping.. and you better—take all of it.”

✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU

it had become sort of a routine at this point, bachira would come home from practice ��� wound up and so fucking hard before he was fucking you senseless, followed by him falling asleep pressed up against you while his cock still rested inside of your cunt.

you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t comfortable though and he knew exactly how to get you to accept, bathing you in wet presses of his lips and low chuckles. “jus’ wanna feel you round me, baby. m’kay? sleep sooo good like that, so warm.” you couldn’t deny him, not when you’re still coming down from the orgasm he’s dug out of you.

but now, you feel yourself wake up from your own nap — roused by the sudden movement behind you as you feel bachira’s chest press tighter against your back — followed by the sudden, deep press of his cock along the still swollen spots inside of you. “baby~ already so wet, should’a just woke me up if you wanted it, gotta take care of you.. m’kay?”

you’re not sure if it’s the sleep that still laces your body but you already feel like putty at his touch, he’s deliberately grazing his cock along the spots that crave him most — sending intoxicating little aftershocks through your body that have you gasping with every quick thrust.

bachira chuckles when your lips part to moan, followed by another loud, wet smack of his hips as his head rests against the back of your shoulder. “already so wet, baby. mhm.. you been dreaming ‘bout me? feels like you have~” he sings, whimpers when he feels you squeeze around him at the words but that only pushes him to go faster, deeper.

it’s hard to believe he was sleeping a moment ago with how well he’s working your body, palming and grabbing at your figure as moans fall from his lips — burying them into your skin as he smears kisses along your shoulders. every deep press of his cock is eased by the remnants of both your previous orgasms, squelching loudly as he pushes himself even deeper.

“awww~ i knew you wanted it, baby. mhm— ah! just gotta ask, can make you feel so good~ lemme take care of you, m’kay?”

✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO

reo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious — although he’d spend his whole day proving it to you if he had to. every touch of his hands on your skin made you melt into him, he worked you with such precision but such a gentleness that you couldn’t help but seek out more.

but these moments specifically were some of your favourites, the ones when he’s pulled you onto his lap — onto his cock as his fingers leave featherlight touches along your skin as he looks up at you. it was intoxicating, to watch him appreciate every part of you, taking a slow, languid palmful of your breast as he loses himself in the mindless squeeze of your walls around him.

“does that feel good, bunny? yeah?” reo asks as his breathing cools the spit he’s left across your tits, giving you a lidded — dazed look until you’re nodding out a yes and he’s messily dragging his tongue along your nipple. you feel dizzy with how good it feels, every squeeze of his palm as he suckles at your nipples languidly, massaging and pinching at you as you try your best to keep your hips still.

but every lav of his tongue, every slow and mindless roll of it over your aching tits makes him twitch from where he’s buried in you but he’s too intoxicated, too enamoured by the way your walls squeeze with every swipe of his muscle against you.

“fuck, bunny. look so pretty, keep still for me. kay?” it almost hurts how tight your fingers are digging into reo’s shoulders with your sweet little uh huh, followed by another dreamy whimper as he suckles kisses from one breast to the next. his cheeks and chin are slick with his own spit from every sloppy press of his lips against you, and it feels so fucking good despite the way his cock still hasn’t moved inside of you.

a shaky sound breaks from his lips when you let your head roll back, your hands smoothing through his hair before the pull at the roots and he feels like he could fucking cum right there and then. you feel fucking boneless above him, melting with every greedy palm and press of his lips and hands.

“that’s it, bunny. wanna see how much you need me first.”

© 2023 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[bosbas]

Lost in Translation: C. Bridgerton Masterlist

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader status: ongoing

It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

Family Tree (sort of) Chapter 1 - if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing Chapter 2 - I didn't have it in myself to go with grace Chapter 3 - they say looks can kill and I might try Chapter 4 - all they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride Chapter 5 - I fear I have fallen from grace Chapter 6 - in a world of boys he's a gentleman Chapter 7 - something gave you the nerve to touch my hand Chapter 8 - this is falling in love in the cruelest way Chapter 9 - I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost Chapter 10 - even my daddy just loves him Chapter 11 - tell me I've got it wrong somehow Chapter 12 - I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed Chapter 13 - I thought we had no chance Chapter 14 - honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy Epilogue - coming soon...

navi tags: lost in translation (everything related to the fic) lost in translation: writing (only full length chapters) lost in translation: rambles (me talking ab the fic) lost in translation: asks (asks about the fic)

follow @bosbas-library to stay updated on the fic!

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[flamingpudding]

Drake's family secret #2

Previous Part

Tim was prepared, he had done as much research / digging as he could squeeze in between meetings, even going so far as rescheduling some of them to get more time until the tour guide would lead the high school students to his office.

Some things he had found were worrying even to the point of wanting to just take Danny and move him permanently to Gotham. Even if he knew that Gotham wasn't the safest city either. He had seen the other boy's interest in the aerospace department through the cameras, but with his digging he had found that Danny had been on a fast track for a Junior Space Program with the grades to support it.

Diggin that information up had made Tim proud, thinking that if there was something good about the Drake family it was that both Danny and him appear to have a very good set of brain cells. Though that proud feeling didn't last long when he dug further.

Because then an accident happened to him, leaving him with his last medical record stating a heart condition. After that there were no more dated medical records. In addition the timing of the accident lined up with when Danny's grades pummeled. He went from a A student to a C student in the month following the accident. Not only that but it also appeared that he racked up quite the number of teacher complaints to which he then got labeled as a delinquent student in his files.

Tim had narrowed his eyes at the screen as he lined up the timeline, with some additional information he had found about Amity Park. That information had not been easy to dig up, he had rescheduled at least two meetings so he could work uninterrupted on the strange firewalls that were protecting it, and even then he only got a handful of newspaper clips out of it. But that had been enough, for now.

Because Danny Fenton's accident and declining grades lined up with the appearance of a ghost menace hero Invis-o-Bill. A coincidence? Definitely not. Looked like hero-ing wasn't just a Wayne family thing.

Either way Tim had dug up a lot in a short amount of time about his possible brother. He was still missing a lot of puzzle pieces but he figured he could probably get that information once he made a successful first contact with Danny.

Which was about to happen in a little more than 5 minutes.

His eyes flicked to the door, then to the live security camera feet on his laptop. Yep they were right outside his door. Taking a deep breath and closing his laptop Tim moved to lean on his desk from the front, facing the door.

His plan was easy. give the kids a little motivational speech, spout some inspiring nonsense of 'you too can achieve great things' before dismissing cheerfully but hold Danny back, because his last name was Fenton and Tim 'recognised' it from a list of potential scientist to investment. Have a successful talk and show some interest in the - weird he actually didn't want to touch on but probably will have to consider because Danny had an accident that gave him meta powers that made him decide to go out as meta hero - stuff Danny's foster parents were researching. Ruffle his hair and subtitle pluck one of his hairs in that motion.

For a first DNA test that would be enough. Even if blood or spit would definitely be better, since he had no guarantee to also get the hair root if he just plucked one.

When the knock on his door resounded he cheerfully told them to come in and started phase one of his grand first contact plan. If anyone asked him what he told the students afterwards, he probably wouldn't be able to recount anything he told them as 'motivational speech'. He did his best though to not let his eyes constantly wander over towards the boy.

He took a little satisfaction in the fact that one of the two close friends his possible brother had appeared to be starry eyed at the fact that they got to meet him. That definitely would come in handy later on.

When some of the students started to look rather bored with their attention wandering, Tim thought that this was probably the best timing to enter phase two. Dismissing them with some scripted farewell words, he waited a little. As he expected Danny and his two friends lacked behind when the students left his office.

He cleared his throat, catching their attention. "Mr. Fenton?"

Danny looked at him wide eyed as he turned around to stare at him and Tim internally laughed. "Your parents are on our list of Scientists for possible investment. If you have the time, would it be possible to have a little chat right now?"

He noted how Danny exchanged a look with his friends and the girl among them instantly started to glare at him suspiciously as Danny's seemed to narrow. He cleared his throat once more. "I will ensure that you will get safely back to the hotel your school is staying at. I just think this would be the perfect chance to learn a bit more about ecto-science? That was what they called it, right?"

Okay, plan was not going as hoped as Danny was now full on glaring, not as heated as the girl but still glaring. His other friends had now also lost the starry eyed look in his eyes and was watching him with clear suspicion.

Damage control, damage control! Stop sounding so formal! His mind screamed as Tim once more cleared his throat nervously. "If now is inconvenient, maybe we could meet for a coffee later? I really am hoping to learn a bit more than what's written in stuffy reports."

"We got some free exploring time tomorrow afternoon. It's Tim Drake! We could at least hear him out." One of his friends stage whispered to Danny who continued to watch him with narrowed, glaring eyes.

"Tucker, no." Danny whispered back before addressing Tim. "Sorry, I have no interest in my parents work."

Before Tim could say anything else Danny dragged his friends out of his office to catch up with the other students. Leaving Tim stunned before he dragged a hand down his face. So much for phase two of his first contact plan.

"Okay noted, his parents' research is not the best way to open up contact." Tim muttered before walking around his desk and opening his laptop again. He needed to readjust his plans. Luckily one of Danny's friends, Tucker, gave him some valuable information.

Maybe he could convince Steph or Duke to go to the mall with him to make it appear more natural. Dick could also be an option, he was in town at the moment. But either way that would also risk further questions, when he 'coincidentally' ran into Danny Fenton. He didn't think reasoning with Dick about some good old brotherly bonds would distract his eldest brother long enough.

Maybe it was about time to get at least one of his siblings in on the Drake's family secret.

Or not depending, he could also check their exploring route via the city cameras and then just go coincidentally into the same coffee or food place Danny and his friends happened to go to.

Yeah that sounded better than getting his siblings involved already.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 2 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

read part 1 here

wc: 3000

cw: mentions of food and alcohol! enemies to lovers! poorly researched medical information lmao i am a liberal arts girly i just need it for the plot. typical bau meddling, reader is lowkey a bully but dw bc hotch is still a little bitch, part 3 to come c: 

a/n big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You. 

With your red dress and your attitude, throwing back amaretto sours like they’re tequila shots - who gets drunk on amaretto sours? They’re basically safe to drink while pregnant. To be fair, you didn’t get sloppy, or even really that drunk. By the end of the night, your eyes appeared just a bit heavy, like someone had tied miniature weights to your eyelashes. 

Your eyelashes. Aaron had never found eyelashes, of all things, to be attractive, but here he is, in the middle of a work day with a report half-finished (and half-assed, at that), and he’s thinking about your eyelashes. 

He’s thought of basically every part of you already today. Your knees, your dress, what’s underneath it. You have been sucking him into a black hole all day long, and he’s to the point where he’s halfway wishing for a serial killer so he can focus on something else. 

He plows his hand through his dark hair, shaking off the overwhelming thoughts of you. He checks the silver Rolex on his wrist. It’s nearly time to leave. Aaron doesn’t usually do this, but he decides to leave this report for tomorrow, when he can look at the letters on the page and not see your face, hear your voice. 

Just as he starts packing up, there’s a knock on his open office door. Aaron’s dark eyes flicker up to see Garcia standing in the doorway, Morgan’s tall frame looming behind her. “Hotch, you got anything going on tonight?” 

Aaron shakes his head. For once, he actually doesn’t. “Jack’s at a sleepover,” he says. “What’s up?” 

“We’re taking Spence and Jacqueline to this nighttime vendor market thingy,” Penelope says, scrunching her nose up with a smile. “You remember Jacqueline?” 

It’s been a week since Derek’s birthday, when Jacqueline and Spencer were introduced. More relevantly, since Aaron laid eyes on you. “I remember.” 

“You wanna come with us?” Penelope asks with bright eyes. Aaron opens his mouth the decline almost immediately, but Penelope beats him to it. “Y/N’s not coming.” 

Aaron arches a brow. “What makes you think I care if Y/N’s coming or not?” he asks. 

“Oh, c’mon, Hotch,” Derek puts all his weight on the doorjamb. “We saw you staring at her at my birthday. It’s about time you moved on from Haley, any-”

“If I say I’ll come out, will you stop talking?” Aaron cuts him off, grabbing his briefcase. 

Derek ponders this for a second, even looks to Penelope as if to ask permission. He shrugs his shoulders in what Aaron suspects will be the first little white lie of the evening. “Yeah.” 

How anyone was able to sprain their ankle while shopping for books is beyond you. Leave it to Jacqueline, the wide-eyed, quirkily clumsy ingénue of her very own romantic comedy, to trip over a curb while gazing starry-eyed at the oh-so dreamy Dr. Reid. She called you from the emergency room with a shrill panic lining her voice, and you immediately leapt up from the couch. You didn’t even bother pausing your show on the TV, just slid some shoes on, grabbed your bag, and bolted out the door. 

You’re taking extra long strides, your flip-flops smacking obnoxiously against the linoleum tiles of the hospital floor. When you spot Jacqueline sitting up in the bed, still in her own clothes, you feel instant relief. At least she’s not panicking anymore. Spencer sits diligently by her side, fidgeting with the edges of the sheets. Jacqueline’s right leg is elevated atop several pillows, with a meek smile on her face once her eyes meet yours. 

“Spencer, you’re supposed to keep an eye on her at all times,” you joke with a weak laugh, sighing as you plop down in the empty chair beside Spencer’s. 

“She saw something shiny and wandered off,” Spencer shrugs, and Jacqueline glares at the both of you. 

“This whole talking about me like I’m not here, thing? Not my favorite,” she deadpans. There’s the Jacqueline you know and love. In crowded social settings, she can be reclusive and difficult to open up. But with only a few people around - especially people she’s comfortable around - Jacqueline is a completely different person. 

You’re glad she feels comfortable around Spencer after just a week of knowing him. They’re not even officially dating, per se, but tonight they went out with Penelope and Derek to test the waters. You think it’s cute - like two fifth-graders on a chaperoned outing to the movies, with their parents sitting a row behind them. 

You were invited to tag along, but you didn’t want to be the fifth wheel. You also were having a really long, insufferable week, and you simply needed some recharge time. So you politely declined. 

“Oh, shush, you’ve got bigger fish to fry,” you tell Jacqueline playfully, eyes darting down to her elevated foot. “So, what’s the damage?” 

“Sprained ankle, possibly fractured,” Spencer rattles off. “Usually an x-ray isn’t required, but since Jacqueline’s having pain in her malleolar zone - that is, the top part of the ankle that connects to the tibia - the doctor ordered one. We’re waiting on the results to come back, but I think they’ll just put her in a brace for a few weeks. Statistically speaking, only about 15% of sprained ankles result in significant bone fractures.” 

You release an awkward little chuckle, very nearly overwhelmed by the amount of information Spencer just dumped on you. Jacqueline shrugs her shoulders a little, like this is just how he is, and I love it. 

You blink a few times as you absorb all of Spencer’s ramblings. “So.. she’s gonna be fine?” 

“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Spencer cracks a smile, and his thumb brushes affectionately over the top of Jacqueline’s hand. Your friend blushes furiously, ever-so-clearly under the fluorescent lighting. 

“So what exactly happened?” You ask. 

Before either of them get to answer, imposing footsteps grow louder, and you hear a familiar voice say, “Okay, coffee acquired.”

Smooth like the neat whiskey he was throwing back the night you met him, Aaron’s voice drags down your spine. Your belly does acrobatic flips. You visibly tense up for a second before turning around to see Aaron with a cardboard drink carrier in his hand containing three to-go cups of coffee. 

“Oh, hi, Y/N. When did you get here?” Aaron’s voice goes flat, and he meets your eyes civilly. 

“While you were getting coffee, I presume,” you deadpan, and you swear you see one of those imposing brown eyes twitch. 

“Right,” Aaron hands Jacqueline her coffee, and then has to lean over you so he can give Spencer his. You catch whiffs of pine and espresso and dark leather. His chest is basically in your face for a solid three seconds. God, he’s broad. He’s also in a suit, save for the jacket and tie, and your eyes catch the crinkly lines in his white dress shirt, no longer crisp from being worn all day. They look like rivers on a map. “Well, I guess I’ll be going. Glad you’re okay, Jacqueline, that was quite the fall.” 

“Oh, no, Aaron, you don’t have to go!” Jacqueline pipes up, holding her coffee with two hands. “I mean, only if you need to, but, we’re still waiting for my X-ray to come back, and I know I’d love the company.” 

You look at Jacqueline with a bewildered expression. “I mean, I’d love the company of all of you,” Jacqueline corrects, her cheeks pinkening. 

You cross your ankles, suddenly aware that you’re in your loungewear - beige linen shorts and a blue Georgetown sweatshirt - and your hair sits in a haphazard knot on top of your head. You have to remind yourself that you don’t care. That Aaron Hotchner’s opinion of you does not matter. 

Aaron seems momentarily frozen in place, standing at the foot of Jacqueline’s bed. His eyes dart to you as if to silently ask permission to stay, and you give a subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shrug and tilt of your head. He inhales and you see his nostrils flare. He clears his throat and says, “Let me find a chair, then.” 

There’s something humorous about a man as tall and imposing and draconian as Aaron Hotchner looking for a chair in the emergency room bay of a hospital. Shoulders hunched so he doesn’t inconvenience anyone. You hope he feels embarrassed and humbled by the experience. A muted smirk rests upon your lips as you watch him most unhelpfully, not even bothering to move from your seat. 

Eventually he finds a free chair in the corner and drags it to the other side of Jacqueline’s bed, keeping a respectful distance. He looks across the bed at Spencer, who sits beside you. “Did you tell her that Garcia basically pushed Jacqueline over the curb?” 

Fluorescent lighting had never been so flattering before. Under its clarifying spotlight, Aaron gets to see details of you he’d missed at the bar where you first met. The texture of your skin, an extra little sliver of thigh from those linen shorts he wasn’t privy to before. 

And when he leaned over you to give Reid his coffee? He caught your intoxicating scent and now he fears it will either be stuck in his nostrils forever, or it will fade too quickly, before he can commit it to memory. 

“Penelope did what?” You’re asking, looking at Reid, then Jacqueline, brows creasing in the middle. 

Aaron folds his left leg atop his right, then nods with an amused smile. It’s clear you still don’t like him - might even hate him for how cold he was to you at the bar the other night. He can tell by the way you refuse to look at him unless absolutely necessary, how your jaw visibly tenses every time he addresses you directly. 

“I have no solid proof,” Aaron begins, offering the information as an olive branch. Your eyes snap to his and he’s jarred for a second, then he continues, the corners of his lips ticking up into an amused smile. “But one second, I see Garcia and Morgan at least three feet behind where Jacqueline’s walking, and the next thing I know, she’s on the ground and Garcia’s apologizing profusely.” 

“Why isn’t she here?” You laugh softly, and Aaron’s chest thrums. He can’t diagnose his reaction to it, but your laugh, no matter how strained and merely polite it might be at this moment, could be the thing that kills him. 

“Something about feeding JJ and Emily’s cat while they’re on vacation,” Jacqueline chimes in. Aaron clocks the younger woman’s eyes and how glued they are on Reid. She’s been so closed off every time Aaron’s around, so this tidbit of information coming from her surprises him. Aaron’s wondered this whole time if she truly likes Reid or if she’s just being kind. 

You nod in understanding and lean back in your chair. Little wisps of your hair fall into your eyes and you brush them back delicately with your index finger. 

Jacqueline pipes up again, her voice still timid and maybe a little tired. “Would you mind maybe getting me a snack?” She asks you. 

Aaron watches the softening of your expression as you look at Jacqueline fondly. You would do anything for her, and he can tell. “Of course,” you squeeze Jacqueline’s uninjured leg as you rise from your seat. 

“And maybe Aaron can go with you? Since Spence is pretty hungry, too, right, Spence?” Jacqueline proposes. 

Your soft expression twists into one of slight irritance. 

Aaron knows exactly what Jacqueline is up to, but it takes Reid a lingering moment to catch on. “What - oh, yeah, I’m starving,” the good doctor adds, even going to far as to pat his stomach, as if to say it’s hollow in there. 

Your eyes shrink in annoyance, and you seem to plaster a sickly sweet smile onto your lips, one that would make demons shake in their boots. You lock eyes with Aaron, as if to say, well? What’s it gonna be? 

Aaron asks Jacqueline and Reid what they want, then leads the way out of the ER and towards the cafeteria. The hospital’s signage is fairly easy to follow, and Aaron slows his usually long strides so you don’t have to struggle to keep up.

He gestures to your Georgetown sweatshirt. “You graduated from Georgetown?” He asks. 

“No, I just like to wear merchandise for schools I didn’t attend,” you deadpan, and there’s that goddamn attitude again. 

Aaron considers laying it all out - right here, right now. You’re not even thirty yet, from what Garcia’s told him. He shouldn’t be attracted to you, but he is, and god, is it killing him. Instead, he just furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah,” you soften a little, shoving your hands in the pockets of the sweatshirt. You seem to be cutting Aaron a little bit of slack, for whatever reason. “Yeah, I went to Georgetown.” 

Aaron holds the door open for you when you reach the cafeteria. You feel a little bad for your snarky comment in the hallway. You were not raised to be outwardly rude. You were raised to hoard your resentment like a precious flower, nursing it so it grows big and strong. 

“Jacqueline made it really sound like an emergency, huh?” Aaron asks, following you to the line. You shoot him a quizzical brow, and he gestures to your ensemble. 

“Oh, excuse me for not wearing an Armani suit to the hospital,” you roll your eyes, but they linger on the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “You just went out right after work, then? In your fancy suit?” 

Aaron smooths his fingertips over the white cotton. The color reminds you of freshly cleaned bedsheets. “Yeah, and it’s not Armani, for your information.” 

“Sorry, Mr. FBI. What is it, then, Dolce & Gabbana? Ralph Lauren?” 

“Tom Ford.” 

“Like that’s any less pretentious,” you scoff. 

“Hey, I can spend my money however I choose,” Aaron says, and you know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you’re not going to give him shit for it. 

“Must be nice to just burn cash,” you say dryly. “I’m sure your wife loves that.” 

“I don’t have a wife.” You look at him over your shoulder and his eye twitches a little when he says this. 

You’re not sure why you mention a wife anyway. Maybe you’re merely curious, but then again, you’ve already clocked that he’s not wearing a wedding ring. “Girlfriend, then,” you correct. “Do men your age call them girlfriends, or do you prefer the term mistress?” 

“Men my age?” Aaron laughs bitterly. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says. His voice is stringent, right on the line of annoyance. You smirk to yourself and grab a tray so you can carry the food. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t call her my mistress, because I don’t have a wife to cheat on with her.” 

“Bachelors in the 1800s called their girlfriends mistresses,” you point out, though your facts are coming from Bridgerton, so you’re not sure if they’re entirely accurate. “I don’t know how old-fashioned you are.” 

“I’m not,” Aaron says simply as you load an individual-size veggie pizza on your tray for Jacqueline, then grab a bag of chips and a soda for yourself. Aaron grabs the sandwich Spencer requested, and you lead the way to the checkout. 

The cafeteria worker punches in your items, and then Aaron’s. “Oh, we’re not together,” you correct politely. 

“It’s fine,” Aaron insists, pulling a silver AmEx out of his wallet. You reach for your own wallet to try and beat him, but he’s already swiped by the time you even get it out. 

You thank the cafeteria worker before gathering everything in your hands. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you and Aaron head out of the cafeteria. He holds the door open for you, again. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Aaron says as you walk through the open door. “Chivalry is still alive, as far as I’m concerned.” 

“Not old-fashioned, huh?” You smirk as you look up at him, feeling your cheeks redden a bit. Wait, when did this become playful jesting rather than straight-up bullying? 

“Maybe a little old-fashioned.” Aaron’s lips hint at a smile, and you feel your mouth go dry. 

“Shocking that you’re still on the market,” you say, admittedly because you’re curious about what Penelope said the other night at the bar. Something about Aaron going through a hard time. 

“My job requires a lot of my time,” Aaron explains. Your footsteps slow a little and he matches your pace. “Even if I found someone worth all the trouble, I don’t think I’d have the time to dedicate to a relationship.” 

“Worth all the trouble?” You repeat, a scoff lining your voice like a thousand tiny needles. Aaron resists the urge to visibly wince at your reaction. 

Why you’re prompting all this relationship discussion is beyond him. He’s a profiler, for Christ’s sake, but he can’t pin you down, for some reason. He lays the brickwork down and builds his walls up again. For a moment, back in the cafeteria, he was starting to let you in. 

But, no, it doesn’t matter how god-forsakenly adorable you are when you scrunch your nose or call him out on his bullshit. Aaron’s not ready for this kind of thing yet, so iciness is necessary. It protects him, it protects Jack, but - and, maybe most importantly - it protects you. 

You’re young and you’re willful. You’re a goddamn hurricane, a force to be reckoned with, but your stubbornness is a house of cards. Aaron Hotchner knows that if he hurts you, the cards will fall. And he could never forgive himself for something like that. 

So when you look at him for some kind of explanation, throwing him an arched brow and the opportunity to explain himself, he doesn’t take it. Instead, he watches as you pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, leaving a hell of a view and a frustrated, fully-grown man in your wake.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Protector AU: My Hero

Charlie: *playing in the park with Vaggie and building a sandcastle*

Helsa: *stomps through Charlie's sandcastle and kicks sand into Charlie's face* Ha! Sucks to suck!

Charlie: Hey! That's not nice!

Helsa: Too bad, girlie! Haha!

Vaggie: *pulls Helsa's hair and kicks her butt repeatedly* Eres estupida!

Helsa: *runs away crying* Daaaddddyyyyyyy!!! The Princess's guard dog attacked me!

Vaggie: *snarls and holds her fist up* That's right! You better run!

Charlie: *starry-eyed and clasps her hands together* My hero! *pecks Vaggie on the cheek*

Vaggie: *blushes* Y-You're welcome.... Uh... Charlie?

Charlie: *still starry-eyed and blushing as she daydreams of Vaggie being her trusted knight like a Princess in a fairytale* Yes, Vaggie?

Vaggie: *blushing hotter* C-Call your dad..... *faints*

[ghuleh-recs]

c*nty Olympic figure skater Terzo and his starry-eyed hockey goon bf Omega from @ramblingoak’s iconic new speed skater!Copia AU. Run—don’t walk—to read it here: Copia on ICE!

Excerpt and costume inspo under the cut. (Yes. Yes, it is Johnny Weir.)

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!” You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone. “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.” He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face. “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.” You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look. “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.” His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response. When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.” Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it. “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early? We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now? Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.” He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening. “I’ve been practicing for weeks. Months.” You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear. “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo! We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.” You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink. “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!” Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes. “Amica mia, I know this. How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh. Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much. White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt. When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor. With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something. Your costume is 80% lace. Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.” You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench. “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.” At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team. “You should see him, cara mia. Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player. He’s the captain.”

“The captain? Then why the fuck are you still here? Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

Read the rest here!

✨ He really did that ✨

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

New Home From Across the Sea | How To Train Your Dragon X Male Reader

The description is down below. This is also on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

Description: Fly High Dragon King

More about you: More about you

Prologue: New Home From Across the Sea | (You are here)

Chapter 1: Old Friends from the Starry Sky |TBW

Chapter 2: The Chieftain's Decision | TBW

Chapter 3: My Good Friend and Maybe Yours | TBW

Chapter 4: Understanding This Way of Life | TBW

Chapter 5: Convincing Her of Sky Bound Beauty | TBW

Chapter 6: Lifelong Friends Over War | TBW

Chapter 7: The Queen Faces the King | TBW

Word count: 3,705 words

The world was different for the boy that lived in the icy nest with the Alpha dragon. He was considered royalty among the rest of the winged creatures, and they all loved him dearly. Even outside the nest, dragons would flock all around to help him. He was found on a boat, abandoned by the rest as an infant. The boy was saved by two night furies that had brought him to the dragon nest.

The two didn't stay for long, but would come by to check on him. Y/n had spent two years learning how to act like the dragons. They would all take turns to care for the boy and Y/n would take care of them. Y/n would start helping out with raids as he rode one of the many dragons, usually commanding them what to grab and what to do. Even if he looked two years old, Y/n was a powerful soul.

After returning to the nest after the most recent raid, Y/n called out to the sky in hopes that his night fury friends would hear his call. The gods had answered his prayer as two pitch black dragons flew down and looked down to the h/c haired boy. Y/n's e/c eyes gleamed with excitement as he quickly got onto the e/c eyed night fury. The three of them flew up into the blue sky, Y/n grinning wide. The two dragons opened their mouths to shoot into the air, causing Y/n to giggle and kick his legs.

One of the shots was right in front of Y/n, and he screamed out in excitement as his face was covered in smoke and his hair slicked back. Y/n leaned his body down onto the dragon he was riding as he stroked his head. The other night fury made jealous grumbles as he flew right below the other. Y/n smiled at him and walked off the e/c eyed night fury, slipping down its wing to be caught by the green-eyed night fury. Y/n hugged the dragon, feeling so content at the moment.

“I love you guys so much. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you.”

Y/n then roared out into the sky as it rumbled through the wind. The roar sounded like a dragon, as others roared in response. Many other dragons had flocked around the night furies and Y/n commanded them forward just as a king did to his subjects. They all followed as the green-eyed night fury took the lead, with Y/n still riding him, guiding them to a pool of fish. Y/n pointed down at the pool, causing all the dragons around to dive and catch their food.

“Everyone go eat! And save some for the other's back home!”

All the dragons growled in agreement as they all caught various amounts of fish. Y/n then instructed the night fury to fly down with the other dragons as Y/n collected as much fish as he could. Once the fish in the ocean were gone, Y/n had everyone fly back to the nest to feed the others. On the way Y/n snacked on one of the many raw fish he caught, sharing some pieces between the two night furies. The night furies dropped him off in front of the nest as he walked in with a deadly nadder.

He was so excited to share what he got with his huge dragon family. Y/n walked deeper into the icy nest, and to get all the dragon's attention he did his dragon call. It echoed throughout the whole nest, as all the dragons turned their attention to the small boy. Some dragons flew down to crowd Y/n, curious to what he had brought. Y/n jumped up and down in excitement, even if this was a daily thing.

“Time to eat! I brought everyone food!”

Y/n held up the fish he got and threw all the others to the expecting dragons. They all roared in delight, thanking the small boy for the food as he went to where the baby dragons were flying. He loved watching how carefree they were, even if they could be annoying sometimes. The baby dragons had found Y/n and started to pull him to their small nest. The parent dragon that was taking care of them today tried to pull the babies off of Y/n, but he insisted it was fine.

This was a daily occurrence, and Y/n loved feeling wanted by the babies. They only ever listened to him, as did all dragons, but the babies were a special case because they listen to no one. Y/n sat down in the nest with a baby Hideous Zippleback sitting in his lap. The other babies tried to push and shove the baby dragon, but Y/n held his hand up to stop them. The other babies stopped as the Zippleback cuddled into Y/n's small lap.

“You will all get your turns little ones, just a bit of patience.”

Y/n then started to pet and preen the Zippleback as its two heads caused small sparks of happiness. Y/n loved when the dragons had a small fiery reaction to him just being there. It was much how the night furies were when Y/n rode them in the sky. Y/n giggled as some sparks caught onto his hair, panicking the overseeing dragon. A big dragon paw hit Y/n’s face as the overseeing dragon pat out the small fire that started on Y/n’s h/c hair.

As Y/n helped clean the Zippleback, a baby monstrous nightmare and snuggled up to Y/n’s side. The other baby dragons saw this and all piled Y/n, causing him to fall back to the ground. Y/n was slightly suffocated by all the weight on his chest, making the overseeing dragon panic once more. Y/n was flailing in the pile, trying to breathe while the overseeing dragon pulled the babies off. The babies started to whine as they tried to get back onto Y/n, only to be stopped by the overseeing dragon. 

Y/n couldn’t help but burst out laughing at how needy the baby dragons were. The overseeing dragon bumped into Y/n’s back, making sure he was okay. He slung the dragon’s head over his shoulder and started to stroke its nose in hopes of calming it down. The baby dragons all flew away to go do whatever the gods know what, and Y/n’s waist had been trapped by the overseeing dragon’s tail. 

Y/n leaned into the overseeing dragon as one of its wings were draped over Y/n's lap. Y/n marveled at all the dragons that flew around the nest seeing how happy they looked. He closed his eyes with a soft smile, leaning deeper into the dragon that was cuddling him. The same zippleback Y/n was cleaning had placed itself back onto Y/n’s lap and fell asleep. Many of the other baby dragons had done the same, creating a cuddle pile.

This was the routine Y/n had lived by for ten full years, and he couldn't complain. There was this itch in his brain that he couldn't ignore, however. The other dragons had noticed the way Y/n looked at himself in the reflection in the water, and the majority conclusion to help was to steal books and items from the ships they looted. On usual raids, Y/n would only ever ask the dragons to steal food and help the other dragons that were trapped. On these raids, Y/n never went as the dragons claimed them to be too dangerous for him to join, but it was all because they wanted to bring these books and items back as presents.

Y/n had read through each and every book he had ever received from the dragons. Over the next five years he had memorized each and every page. The information felt so new to him, this was the other half of who he was. A viking brain and a dragon heart, both making him tough through and through. One book scared him though, the dragon killing book.

He knew that vikings had killed dragons, but he never wanted to admit it. He wanted to believe his dragon friends were safe from harm. But out in the open world, Y/n could only do so much. Y/n had wandered out of the nest and onto one of the rock formations connected to it, watching the dragons fly away to do whatever they wanted. Y/n then stumbled as he felt a gronkle nudge him closer to the edge.

Y/n started to panic the closer he got to the edge of the water, not wanting to get wet. Y/n heard the frenzy of dragons flying above him, a boat being pushed closer to Y/n. The boy was left confused as he looked at each and every dragon. A monstrous nightmare had brought Y/n his books and tossed them into the boat, pulling Y/n into it soon after. Y/n stood at the edge of the boat as all the dragons of the nest flew out and stood around the boy. 

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

The dragons all roared out in response, a low flame from their mouths lit up the area. Y/n finally understood what was going on. This was a farewell to Y/n as they all kept roaring. Y/n felt tears drip down his cheek as he was finally able to go out and explore. Y/n started to push the boat as he waved to the dragons. 

He couldn’t help but cry as he was leaving his home, his family. Y/n started to sail slowly away, but his boat started to rock slightly. He looked over the edge of the boat to see scauldrons helping him push his boat along. His tears dripped into the water as one scauldron rose its head out of the water to lick Y/n and gently squirt semi warm water on his face. Y/n giggled as his tears mixed with the salty seawater. 

Y/n had sailed like this for a month, before the scauldrons had to leave to find food elsewhere. Y/n understood and waved them off, as he was now alone. His boat floated in the sea, in no particular direction. All Y/n had were his books, so he decided to reread them over and over. Sometimes he would pass other viking’s ships and hear them singing, intriguing Y/n. 

He picked them up and would hum these sea songs to himself whenever he got bored with the books he read. He sailed for about two months, or what seemed like it because Y/n had no sense of time. It was dark as the moon reflected the moonlight. Y/n was laying on the boat’s floor as he slept soundly. Y/n’s boat suddenly crashed into a nearby rock formation, destroying the front of the boat and making it sink. 

The sound of crashing had alerted the chief of the island Y/n had crashed on. He ran toward the location and saw the boy almost being consumed by water, his books completely drowned and surrounding the boy. The chief dove into the icy water and brought the small boy to the shore. He called a few men to save the books while he pulled the small boy out of the water. Y/n yawned as he stretched his small arms and looked at the man holding him with his e/c eyes. 

The chief looked at the boy with a raised eyebrow, curious as to how such a small child sailed here all by himself. It concerned the muscular man, and the others that had now surrounded the chief. The chief’s wife ran up and saw the boy he was holding, taken aback that such a young boy had crashed into Berk. Y/n looked to the chief and then to the woman that had stood right next to him. He had seemingly no concern for almost drowning. 

“Where am I? And who are you all?”

The chief sighed in relief and put the small boy down on the floor as he stood by himself. The group of people were amazed by the boy surviving in the frigid water after crashing. The chief’s wife knelt down and checked the boy for any wounds, as if she was his own mother. One of the chief’s greatest friends that had a peg leg and a hooked hand joined the group to see the boy. The chief knelt down next to his wife and put his large hand on the boy's small shoulder.

“You are on the island of Berk. And where might you have sailed from?”

Y/n thinks for a moment to try to think of a place to say, but he can’t think of any. Y/n looks up at the chief, messing with the hem of his shirt. The chief had tilted his head in curiosity, trying to make sense of the boy’s actions of trying to self soothe. The chief’s wife kept her hands tenderly on the boy’s cheeks and looked at him with gentle eyes. Y/n felt an odd sense of comfort here.

“I do not know where I came from. I just sailed from the open ocean until I crashed onto this island.”

The group that surrounded the boy started to murmur themselves in whispers they thought Y/n couldn’t hear. Y/n looked around the group with curious, childlike eyes that could melt any soul into a puddle. But those very eyes held that of a dragon's. The chief's wife saw it in the boy, the soul he had and she was enthralled. The chief had a questioning look on his face, trying to find any reason why a young boy like the one in front of him would have sailed all the way out here on his own.

"I see. Well, I am Stoick the Vast. You have landed on Berk."

From that point on Y/n became apart of Stoick’s family. He was treated as just another Berkian by everyone else, even though his view on dragon hunting was different. Time went on, and Y/n became incredibly close with the village’s smith, Gobber. The two were a colorful duo, Y/n indulging in Gobber’s stories and Gobber teaching Y/n about dragon history as well as inventing. 

Stoick found the pair to be quite troublesome, but found it endearing nonetheless. Stoicks’ wife loved Y/n as if he were one of his own. She saw eye to eye with y/n about not wanting to hurt dragons and seeing no reason for it. Y/n was seemingly able to win everyone over.

After three years, people began to notice the lack of Y/n aging physically. Many tried to ask the boy, but he always managed to dodge the question. It always made Y/n really uncomfortable whenever he was asked. He just found his new family, there wasn’t anything that would pull him away from it.

It unsettled the chief, but Y/n never seemed to be affected when eating the raw fish so he tried to keep his worries low. In his mind the child was odd no doubt, but having Y/n with him for so long Stoick got attached. Stoick then decided to make it a rule for the village to never question Y/n’s habits or lack of aging.

Stoick had noticed Y/n’s uncomfortable feelings around the questions pertaining to his lack of physical aging, but there were more things he had noticed about the boy. Whenever Y/n would eat, his teeth would show, and they seemed sharper than normal. Not only that but Y/n only seemed to have a craving for fish, raw.

Over the three years of staying in Berk, Y/n tried his hardest to convince people not to hurt the dragons. It happened so often, the other vikings started to think Y/n was crazy. No one said that to his face though out of fear of Stoick’s wrath. Stoick tried to explain the reason for hunting dragons over and over but Y/n never accepted those reasons.

Things changed however, when the chief had a son. His birth son who was named Hiccup. Y/n was excited because not only was it someone who he could connect with at his age, but another person to his found family. Hiccup also changed Y/n because as soon as he was born, Y/n started to age physically.

The two boys grew up together, Y/n teaching Hiccup about the world and following Stoick everywhere to learn about the history of Berk. Hiccup found a passion with dragons, watching them from afar and seeing his father hunt them. Y/n noticed this affinity and decided to nurture it.

Y/n told Hiccup all that he knew about dragons, even things that other vikings never knew. Many considered the information to be made up or embellished, but it had Hiccup hooked. The two explored and did everything together. Y/n metaphorically attached himself to Hiccup, going everywhere Hiccup went.

As the two aged, both were considered weird and different. Albeit for different reasons, but they were reasons nonetheless. It was another thing the two boys connected over. Being outcasted by the village and having differences that others didn’t agree with.

When Hiccup was busy, Y/n found himself at the forge. Y/n’s other friend was Gobber. He loved helping him with inventions and weapon building. It became a pastime for the two to create new weapons and learn how to improve old ones. Gobber was another best friend to Y/n.

The closer Y/n got with Gobber, the more the urge to tell him about his past grew stronger. Gobber seemed to notice Y/n’s hesitance around him and the little slip ups when Y/n spoke to him. Eventually, Gobber decided to question the boy’s behavior. Both were in the forgery, working on weapons for the village.

“Mind telling me what all this talk of living with dragons means?”

Y/n immediately dropped the weapons he was working on, onto the floor. Fear crept up into his heart and he looked utterly dumbfounded. How did Gobber find out? Well to Y/n’s obliviousness, it was Y/n’s own fault.

Y/n turned around slowly, but kept his head down. Gobber raised an eyebrow at the boy’s behavior, but kept his silence. He wanted to hear the full story, he wanted to know about the boy’s past. It felt only right to Gobber that he knew based off how long Y/n’s been around him. Y/n took a deep breath and decided this was the time.

“It means how it sounds. Before I crashed onto Berk, I lived with dragons. I was raised by them. They taught me how to fish and survive. But then I left and well you know the rest after that…”

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two. It was only interrupted when Y/n went back to the weapons he dropped. The clanking of the weapons being placed on the table sounded more deafening as Y/n waited for a response from Gobber. Y/n’s mind raced with all the terrible what if scenarios.

“Well that's certainly on par with my dragon stories, wouldn’t you think?”

“Huh?”

That wasn’t a response Y/n was expecting at all. Sure, Gobber had his own tales of adventuring and such, but comparing it to Y/n’s was something the boy didn’t quite understand. Gobber only laughed at Y/n’s confusion and proceeded to tell him stories of how he lost his leg and hand. This ended up taking half the day and no new weapons were made.

The forgery were full of shared anecdotes and laughs. Y/n felt safer than he did before with Gobber knowing his secret. One thing that still plagued Y/n’s mind though was if Gobber was going to tell Stoick. Gobber noticed Y/n’s shift in mood once more.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo.”

Y/n stiffened once more, caught off guard with how perceptive Gobber was. It honestly astounded Y/n that he was, but he also remembered how close Gobber was to Stoick and all the battles the two fought with each other.

“You’re not going to tell Stoick are you?”

“Tell Stoick what, exactly?”

“My past… What I had shared with you.. Can you please not tell Stoick?”

Gobber had nodded, understanding Y/n’s unease with the chief knowing Y/n’s true past and who he really was. Albeit his past did explain Y/n’s strange behaviors and his defense for dragons, but Berk’s chief is one who is not as open-minded. After that, the two went back to chatting and just sharing stories once more.

Over the years, Y/n grew up in this new world as a viking. Learning and training, but not to hurt dragons. No, but to defend them and his found family from them. Y/n would convince Stoick to have Hiccup help with Gobber in the forge, much to Stoick’s dismay and concern. Hiccup would learn how to invent things with Y/n always by his side.

Y/n’s new home was not ready for Y/n, however. The gods seemingly having different plans for the boy. One faithful night would prove that Y/n’s two worlds of vikings and dragons would converge. Be it for better or for worse.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[blockofhoney]

📝 🥺?

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Kay Francis (Jewel Robbery, I Loved A Woman, British Agent)— kay francis was an icon of glamor in her time and a top star of the 30s - she was the highest-paid actress at warner bros from 1930 to 1936. she tended to play characters who were charming, sophisticated, and elegantly dressed, and starred in at least one legitimate masterpiece, the sublime 1932 comedy trouble in paradise. her first big role was in the marx brothers movie the cocoanuts in 1929, and she and william powell made seven movies together between 1930 and 1932. even in her sillier movies she always elevates the material with her charm and presence - she never phones it in and there’s a sort of warm, knowing wittiness about her. a really good short promo from a retrospective of her movies that i think really gets her Vibe across

Elisabeth Welch (Song of Freedom, Big Fella, Dead of Night)— Starry-eyed, honey-voiced, magnetic. A Broadway star in the 1920s, she SHOULD have become a torch-singing Hollywood star when talking pictures came in. Instead she was faced with Hollywood racism, so she moved to Europe and juggled British movie roles and a top-class cabaret career. (Heard the classic songs "Stormy Weather" or "Love For Sale" or "As Time Goes By"? She introduced them all.) You need to hear her croon, so here she is co-starring with certified hot vintage man Paul Robeson [video below the cut]

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Kay Francis:

Jewel Robbery clip

"From 1932 through 1936, Francis was the queen of the Warner Bros. lot, and, increasingly, her films were developed as star vehicles. By 1935, Francis was one of the highest-paid actors, earning a yearly salary of $115,000, dwarfing the $18,000 Bette Davis – who would one day occupy Francis's dressing room – made. From 1930 to 1937, Francis appeared on the covers of 38 film magazines, second only to child sensation Shirley Temple's 138." Source: Wikipedia. Kay Francis is like the MOST FAMOUS Actress from the 1930s you've never heard of--and it was her and Norma Shearer who wore and made classic the 1930s tall, slim, bias cut silhouette. She ALSO has a WHOLE PODCAST episode devoted to her life and career in Hollywood--it's fascinating! She is both tough and a total wet cat.

One of the TALLEST Warner Brother stars at 5’9” and known as a “clothes horse” for her glamorous roles wearing the height of 1930s fashion. She fell out of popularity in the 40s, but her 30s work sizzles. The scene with her and Herbert Marshall in Trouble in Paradise where she says she doesn’t care about his reputation (because she’d rather sleep with him?) HAWOOGA

melted my gay heart with her butch look in stolen holiday

"My life? Well, I get up at a quarter to six in the morning if I'm going to wear an evening dress on camera. That sentence sounds a little ga-ga, doesn't it? But never mind, that's my life ... As long as they pay me my salary, they can give me a broom and I'll sweep the stage. I don't give a damn. I want the money ... When I die, I want to be cremated so that no sign of my existence is left on this earth. I can't wait to be forgotten." —From Kay Francis's private diaries, c. 1938

Elisabeth Welch:

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi is a little clueless when it comes to how big he is.

warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, first times together, nagi’s just big. note: i think about him + his size always <3

nagi was blissfully unaware of how big he was, it wasn’t something he paid too much attention too — he was 190cm, so it was in proportion to the rest of his body, right? thick, heavy pale shaft with a flushed pink tip, white happy trail and prominent veins along the sensitive glands that makes him shudder when you brush against them.

he didn’t think much of it until he felt suddenly self conscious at the way your jaw seemed to go lax at the your first sight of his cock, pressed between your thighs and his hips as you straddle his lap after he pushed down the waistband of his sweats to pool at his feet. he’d half expected you to climb off, he didn’t really know why you seemed so hesitant but he wasn’t gonna make you touch him no matter how hard he was — but he was still a little caught off guard when you reached for him anyway, some sort of determination burning in your eyes that he didn’t quite understand.

“‘ts too big, sei! c-can’t.” you gasp and nagi can barely breathe with how tight you’re squeezing around him, he can feel what you were thinking about now — he’s barely half way in but every extra inch he presses into your walls seems to make you clench even fucking tighter. you’re so snug and warm around him, twitching with the thick spread of him but you’re so determined, leaving pretty red marks along his shoulders as your legs tremble with his next eased roll of his hips.

“fuck—can take it, angel. just.. mmph—jus’ g’tta relax.” his words are strangled between soft pants and gasps, his hands trembling where they paw at your figure and he almost feels lightheaded, desperately fighting back the way he needs more.

“ah! seishiro, shit!” you breathe with your next grind into him and it’s almost too easy the way he fills you up, he’s thick and long and it’s effortless the way he’s able to press against all the sensitive spots inside of you. another inch and nagi can’t help the way his hips twitch underneath you, offering you a few more that make you whimper as he pulls you against him — letting him suckle messy kisses along your throat as he hugs you close.

“feels soooo good, pretty thing. w’nna give you more though—“ he can barely move with the way you’re wrapped around him and his drowsy gaze presses shut as his head falls against the back of the couch — parted lips and flushed to his chest as his hands pull desperately at your ass to spread you wider for the push of more of his cock.

you gasp, pulling away to cast nagi a starry-eyed, needy glance before you pull him back in for a kiss and your legs widen to allow him to sink deeper with his next stuttered thrust, followed by a sound that’s nothing more than a breathless whine against his lips when you feel him finally bottom out with a low whimper and a broken, dreamy moan.

you lean the weight of your hips against his as his fingers grope a little too hard at your skin, his eyes clenched shut as he tries not to lose himself in the needy coax of your pussy so soon—that’d be so cringe and such a pain but you feel so good and you’re so fucking tight.

“jus’ be patient w’ me, angel. ‘ts no fair, you feel too good ‘ts bothersome.” the snowy haired striker breathes and his voice sounds needier than he expects, pulling back to admire how pretty you look above him before you kiss him once on the cheek, mumbling something affirming that has him trembling before you’re drawing your hips up.

“fill me up so good, sei. wanna make you feel good too.” your pussy flexes again, as if it’s trying to coax back in every inch you lose and nagi whines, his jaw clenching before a breathier croon of your name falls from his lips. the first real bounce is a little too good, his own clumsy as he tries to meet your pace and he whimpers before readjusting his feet—breathing deep when your hips meet his with the first wet, clapping thrust that has his toes curling when he hugs you closer, listening to him pant and growl softly between your moans.

“ah.. ‘ts fine, g’nna fuck you now. so tight, wanna go another round already.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

I'm soooo sorry you're under the weather and dealing with crappy stuff! I hope things get better for you, physically and mentally 🙏 Get lots of rest if you can, and drink all the fluids!

Headcanon requests, is it? How about the OPLA men (Shanks & Mihawk, but also take your pick, etc) with a multi-tasking reader who delights in various hobbies to keep busy, and occasionally drags them into getting involved? Whether it be container gardening, knitting, baking, sewing, artwork, etc.

Bonus if they're also contending with where exactly reader stores all of her crap when it's not in use, not at all guilty of this myself 🙈🤣

Thank you so, so, so much. It’s been a really bad day and this has honestly helped a lot.

Like I feel this hard. There’s guitar picks and tuning peg winders and little notebooks full of story notes and recipes and origami scattered all over my house.

Just gonna do Shanks and Mihawk this time, because they very much are my main comfort characters right now.

The fact that one of my comfort characters is so murdery probably does not say good things for my mental health but whatever

Hobbies

OPLA! Shanks and Mihawk x Reader

Cloyingly fluffy, here is a spoon with which to gag yourself, just in case c>===

Shanks

He is absolutely so game for all of this.

Such a child about it, if you’re trying to do anything new he’s just so excited about it and needs to know everything.

Completely in your business, asking ten thousand questions, along with the inevitable starry-eyed, “Can I help?”

And you’d have to be heartless to turn down those puppy-dog eyes.

It might not turn out to be his thing, and he might get in the way more than he actually helps, but he’s going to enjoy the experience with you regardless, and his enthusiasm is just so precious that it makes it more fun for you as well.

The exception here is knitting. Knitting can get fucked. He tried, holding one needle in his hand and the other between his teeth, and somehow ended up nearly giving himself a tracheotomy.

But if you knit, sew, or crochet something for him, he’s going to unironically wear it everywhere and brag about it to anyone who will listen.

Baking, though, turns out he has something of a knack for it. And now his go-to solution if you’re sad or upset about something is to bake you cookies, because “How can anyone be sad when there are cookies?” And, well, he’s not entirely wrong.

The captain’s cabin is just completely cluttered with arts and crafts supplies, with so many signs and knickknacks of your many and varied hobbies, and he sincerely loves it because there’s just so much of you everywhere he looks. He’s always felt at home on the sea, but this just makes it feel even more like home.

Mihawk

Not quite as perceptive to participating. He might if you ask him, but some things might take convincing.

He’s an utter perfectionist about everything, so if you do convince him to try anything, he’s probably going to fixate on it until he’s a certified expert and compete with you over who’s better at it.

More refined and traditional artistic endeavors definitely appeal to him more—you could probably convince him to try painting or drawing pretty easily, but things like sewing or crocheting are going to be a little more of a stretch.

Gardening in general is honestly fine as well, container or otherwise.  The more you can grow on the island or around the castle, the less he has to concern himself with leaving to deal with other people. And it is fairly convenient to have fresh herbs growing right in the kitchen.

Fairly adept at cooking already—he’s spent most of his life in solitude, so cooking for himself was something of a necessity. Baking isn’t exactly his forte, but he will partake if you ask him to.

He acts like the clutter of your supplies irritates him, but really only so he can give you a room or two of the castle dedicated solely to your hobbies. No point looking a gift horse in the mouth, and you know he’s just being surly to protect his pride.

You know because even if he isn’t interested in it himself, he does enjoy watching you work, sitting off to the side with a book and a glass of wine, glancing up every so often to see your progress.

[profound-imagination]

Little Witch - Ruhn Danaan - Part 2

A/N: It’s finally here, part two of Little Witch. This part is for @sweetshifter and @sweetshifter only.

T/W: Mentions of torture, nothing too descriptive but it’s there!

W/C: 1.7k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ruhn was growing frustrated. He had no right to be. He’d caused this, his actions had brought about her silence again but gods how he missed her voice. It didn’t help that he had a sneaking suspicion she spoke freely to the others when he wasn’t around, she spoke to Ithan at the very least if not the others. Smug little Pup.

He couldn’t complain though, she’d stuck by him through every step of his ongoing healing. She tended his wounds, pulled him out of nightmares and cast little balls of light in her hands when the entire room was shrouded in his shadows as a result. She’d wept silently as he and Lidia told their story, wept for her older sister when she learned the truth of Lidia’s life. Lidia in turn had sobbed for her baby sister when she told her own story, casting those starry eyed gazes at him that he’d missed so much when he entered the story. She attended every therapy session with him, the ones she knew about anyway, and held his hand. His silent pillar of strength.

He could hear the thump thump thump of the music blaring through the house as he approached. Flynn must’ve been throwing another party, the guest list was small these days. The three found brothers who were now five if he counted Ithan and Tharion, which he did. Bryce and Hunt. Lidia and his Little Witch. No one heard the door open as he strolled in although he knew Dec knew he was there and approaching the house long before he first heard the music, yes, his brother was that good. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face when he took in the scene in the living room. Bryce perched on Hunt’s lap in the beaten up armchair, Dec with a laptop in one hand, beer in the other, Lidia and Tharion chatting on the sofa. Flynn was dancing on the coffee table, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, Ruhn’s Little Witch on his back, arms wrapped around Flynn’s neck, mouthing the lyrics along with him a brilliant smile on her face. “You’re going to drop her, Flynn!” Ithan was hissing from his seat, leant right forward ready to catch her when Flynn did drop her. “No I won’t, Pup! I’m completely in control-“ famous last words as Flynn’s foot slipped and he fell, Y/N let out a scream as she lost her grip on Flynn and a purely Fae protective possessiveness flared through Ruhn.

He snarled at his friend as he caught her, her doe eyes looking up at him, a brilliant smile on her face. “Hi there.” He purred at her and delighted in the colour that flared in her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a greeting hug and then untangled herself from him and pulled Flynn to his feet. But Ruhn knew in his bones, in his very soul, that the peace they had found wouldn’t last forever.

Tuesday started like any other day, you’d woken up with Ruhn curled around you like he always was, whether you’d fallen asleep in his bed or yours, you always woke up with his strong arms wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin, his heat radiating into your back. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t spoken to him again. There was no doubt that you were irrevocably in love with this male but every time you opened your mouth to speak, to maybe tell him, the whole thing flashed through your mind again, the hurt. Losing him. The dress you never got to wear, the ball you never got to go to. Ruhn shifted pulling you from your thoughts and pulling you with him, turning you as he went.

He smiled up at you as you took in his beautiful face. “Good morning, Witchling.” He said, tightening his arms around your waist. You smiled at him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “What have you got planned today?” He asked into your hair, you shrugged in response. “I’m heading out with the guys, we got a tip off on the DreadWolves, Tharion, Ithan and Lidia are following up on one about Pollux, are you gonna be okay here by yourself?” He asked, lifting your head to look at him. You smiled and nodded at him and pointed to his bookshelf, he grinned, “I can’t wait to hear about which one you picked when I get home.”

You’d been pottering around the kitchen having decided to bake, Ruhn had once told you that lemon cake was his favourite, maybe if you couldn’t tell him you could show him how you felt. It was a good idea in theory, but standing in the kitchen covered in flour was proving the opposite, still you persisted. Studying the recipe so hard you almost didn’t hear the front door swing open. No, not swing, bang open. You turned, a sense of dread filling you at what you’d find behind you, still clutching the mixing bowl.

Devastatingly beautiful was the only way to describe Pollux Antonius as he filled the doorway, smiling a lover’s smile at you. “Well, I can see why Princey is keeping you locked away, a perfect mix of your two sisters, beautiful little thing.” He purred. Terror seized your body as he took a step towards you. “Your friends won’t make it back to you in time, Mordoc is giving them the runaround.” He took another step towards you, “Now, be a good girl, don’t run, it’ll only make this worse, don’t fight and I promise you won’t suffer for long.” He grinned. You finally convinced your limbs to unlock and move and you launched the mixing bowl at him and fled the room.

He was on you in two strides and pain lanced through you as he threw you into the wall. All the air left your lungs as you slid down the wall and rallied your power. You could do this, you could control the power, the power didn’t control you. Ruhn had been training you, so had Flynn and Dec, you could do this. “Ah ah ah” Pollux crooned as he knelt in front of you, “None of that nasty raw power of yours, sweetheart.” He sneered as he snapped a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, not Gorsian, no, these were the same cuffs the Witches had used. You screamed as they embedded themselves into your wrists and drained your power from you. “It’s funny how giving the Witches are now they’ve turfed your sister off of her throne.”

He dragged you by the wrists into the garden, your back scraping against the floor, towards the trees and hung you between two of them and began. You screamed until you could scream no more and he talked and talked, spitting his venom, apparently Ruhn had given him nothing but attitude during their time together. You smirked at that. Of course he had. “But you, hurting you,” he crooned, “hurts all of them, Princey, Lidia, the Pup, and when they come back and find you dead it will fracture them all so much their little rebellion will fall apart.” You mustered the little fight you had left and spat at him.

The pain got worse then as he started carving out parts of you. “I wonder if I cut out enough if I’ll find the source of the raw power you possess, take it for myself.” He asked as he brought his dagger to his mouth and licked the blood from the blade. You blocked him out then, his words and his ministrations. Ruhn, you thought of Ruhn. Of his kindness, his smile, his persistence! He never gave up on you, not once, he was still there, still fighting for your words, words you never gave him and now you never would. Blackness started creeping in the edges of your vision. Ruhn, Ruhn, Ruhn.

There was nothing but endless blackness and pain. Was this death? Was there really no peace? “Baby, no! Please, please come back!” Ruhn? You span, searching for him but he was nowhere. “Little Witch, can you hear me? Please come back, don’t leave me! You don’t get to leave me!” Was he crying? You could hear other things as well now, a wolf was howling, Ithan, that was Ithan. Flynn was shouting. “Shock her again!” Tharion, that was Tharion, “Hunt! Shock her again!” “I can’t! Not with Ruhn there!” A snarl, that was unmistakably Ruhn. “All of you move!” Declan. “Baby please wake up!”

You weren’t going to wake up, you were sure of it. “Goodbye Ruhn, I love you.” You weren’t sure how his mind speaking worked, he’d never tried it again after it had terrified you that first time. Then there was a primal roaring in your head. “No! You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to say goodbye, that love you me like this! You wake up and tell me that!” Ruhn growled into your head. “Hunt, shock her again, I’ll move.” Pain splintered through you as he let you go.

You gasped as your eyes flew open and your lungs burned. There was so much pain running through your body. Declan was knelt next to you, his healing magic working the best it could on the cuffs he was trying desperately to remove. Ithan sat at your back, supporting you, keeping you upright. Then there was Ruhn. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” He growled as he ran his hands through his hair. Blood, he was covered in blood, as if reading your thoughts he said “He’s gone, he’s dead, he won’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.” Lidia knelt next to Ruhn, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, this is all my fault.” It almost killed you to move your arm to grasp your sisters hand but you did it anyway and gave her a weak smile before looking back to Ruhn.

“I love you, you big idiot.” You croaked, and his face shuttered, fresh tears fell down his face. “I love you too, Little Witch.” You smiled at him weakly, “Let’s get you inside and healed up, then you can tell me about how much you love me.” He grinned down at you. You reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding Lidia’s and wiped his tears away, “Okay, Ruhn.”

[hyperfixationsstation]

https://www.tumblr.com/hyperfixationsstation/755193955934765056/httpsxcomallforunitedwfcstatus18092778740981

T: hey c wanna get legally married and go play Man U?

C: sure

T: wait what?

lol I still think they got legally married in 2020 before going Man U.

haha same you cant convince me they didn’t

like did yall see the way crisp got all starry eyed in that clip

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Starry Ceilings

Author’s note: More of Hura in Husbandry.

Summary: You give your wonderful, lovely hardworking Astartes Bonded a full Body Massage.

Warnings: Chaos Nurglite Death Guard. Hiding a pregnancy from your partner. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis, @undeaddream

"Wear protection, stay safe, be smart about sex," Your mom had told you bluntly, "Your body, your choice, but if someone tries to force you into it. Yell. Make noise and get the fuck out of there. Unfortunately, our family is really fertile so, if you have sex and aren't safe about it you are likely to get pregnant fast."

You learned as you got older, that your mom had gotten pregnant with you and your twin sister young. And that man hadn't been the man who'd raised you and your younger brother and sister and sibling.

Your Grandmother, a lovely if sometimes bitchy old woman had grumbled about a Him and a That Bastard. And then glared at you and your twin sister and would be snide about how 'you and your sister are bastards, due to being made out of wedlock.'

Your mom had been upfront about how your biological father, whoever the fuck he was. Was not in your lives. And she was glad to be rid of him. You and your sister had seen the way that even talking about this mysterious Him would upset her.

How she'd blink back tears and look away. How she admitted to the two of you that the pair of you reminded her of him in different ways. Your twin sister has his temper. While you have his more... manipulative tendencies.

Which you weren't sure was a good thing. Also, your mom really didn't want to talk about Him. And that although she would, if you really wanted to know about Him. She would talk about Him. But only if you told her why you wanted to know about the Mysterious Him.

Honestly, you weren't surpised that you and your twin sister weren't bio kids of your stepdad. Your younger siblings looked a lot like him. Blonde haired, blue eyed, tall and much fairer skinned.

Also, your stepdad treated you and your sister differently, than he does your other siblings. He gives them more time, more attention, more money, more resources.

You shake your head, wondering why you are even thinking about all of this when, all you want to do is pamper Hura a little bit. Perhaps it's because of the baby swelling in your belly that the thoughts of parents and parenthood have such shit coming into your head.

Quite frankly, all that your mom was willing to tell you about Him was enough. And you didn't really care to know about more. Occasionally you wondered if you might have half siblings somewhere out in the world due to the Him that your mom had been with.

"I want to give you a massage." You tell Hura, after dinner today.

He blinks at you a little surprised, but his crooked grin fills your heart with warmth, "if that's what you want to do dear hear, then go ahead. How naked do you want me to be, darling~"

You blush up at him, "As naked as you are comfortable with. Mr. Hura."

You pout up at him, while sex is fun, and massage can lead into sexy fun times. You had felt the sudden urge to... well. Not be nest-y behavior. But to be close to your Bonded.

You have yet to tell him about the pregnancy. But- from what Cedric warned you, the hormonal change will be noticeable in your scent to your Bonded very soon.

And you are going to tell Hura. You really will. It's just. You thought you had been careful with taking your birth control, and other forms of protection.

Hura followed you up to his bedroom, it has the larger, sturdier bed and bed frame and he undresses as much as he can, with his armor partially fused to himself.

Also, you hadn't realized what with how... unusual Hura looked that he was fertile. You had heard from some others and through careful searching online that mostly Chaos Marines don't beget children on their humans that could carry babies usually.

Especially Death Guard. You keep your face the same as you ruefully remember what your mom had warned you about when you'd first gotten your period.

You grab some unscented lotion, partly because most scents seem to bother Hura, and also make your skin itch and sneeze. And start to warm up the lotion a little bit as you start working on rubbing the stress out of his armor.

He's so big, and so strong, helping you move his arms and legs this way and that as you continue to massage him. Making sure not to make your hands sore from rubbing too hard. Hura had said that you didn't have enough strength to hurt him. In a rather amused way when you'd asked about putting too much pressure on certain joints.

Once you finished rubbing him down with your hands, you ask Hura to flip over on his belly again. Which he does. part of your mind twinges and almost feels like breaking when you see certain parts of his body. You look away to make sure that your eyes don't glaze over and your head doesn't go fuzzy.

You start carefully stepping on his shoulders and back. Hearing cracking popping sounds. Hura groans in pleasure and lets you know where to continue to walk. He has started to purr, the deep, rumbling noise vibrates up from your feet all the way up to the crown of your head.

Once you finish the massage, you see the way Hura is all limp and relaxed and it makes you smile and giggle. You let out a play shriek when he moves faster than you can see and pulls you into a hug.

"I love you," Hura says to you adoringly.

"I love you two Hura," You say pressing a kiss to his face, which he eagerly responds to.