#all photos were found on pintrest ( 〃▽〃)

[softstarsabove]

"I'll hold you until our last breath."

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ノ9TEEN

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"When the sun comes up, you'll grow wings."

[yupstillaghost]

My Eden

(The Boogeyman pt. 2)

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

Cryptid! Vessel x fem reader

Summary: you return to the forrest at dusk the following day, hoping to see Vessel again. You find that he has been waiting for your return just like he said he would.

Warnings: mentions of death, implied smut, making out, groping, dry humping, needy Vessel, police activity?, no use of Y/N. MDNI ⚠️

Author's note: yall aren't ready!!! Anyway, I kind of decided last minute this is probably gonna be a series, so look out for part 3??

Photo credit to sleepyt0ken on pintrest

Your usual walk to the forrest isn't as steady and calm as it is on any ordinary day. This time, you walk with purpose and without haste. The local police have found the body of the man Vessel killed the night before. He was found by a women walking her golden retriever in the forrest early in the morning and the police were on the scene in minutes.

According to the news report, the medical examiner is almost positive the man was attacked by a bear with the amount of flesh that has been ripped from his neck. The police have issued a warning for everyone to stay clear of the forrest until further notice. All you can think about as you speed walk to the forrest is Vessel. You need to know that he is safe and that the police haven't found him and hurt him, or worse.

All of the town's folklore enthusiasts have already started spreading conspiracies about the mans death. They will tell anyone who will listen that it wasn't a bear who killed him. It was The Vessel. It was the vicious, blood thirsty demon that lurks in the forrest and prays on innocent people.

Your thoughts have been plagued with him since you left him in the forrest last night. His voice, his smile, the way his lips feel against yours. He's stuck in your head like a captivating melody. You need to know he is alright, but you also just... need him. Your racing thoughts won't cease until you lay eyes on him again.

You finally reach the forrest's outer perimeter and see it is lined with caution tape. No doubt the work of the police to try and keep people out. You step right over the caution tape, letting out a small chuckle at the police department's poor attempt to keep you from going in. You start to walk aimlessly. You don't really know where he could be or how to find him. You look all around you for any signs of him or any indication that he is nearby. So far, there are none.

Your heart starts racing with anxiety, a sick feeling swirling in your stomach. Where is he? Did something happen to him? There's no way. He's Vessel. He can fend for himself just fine, right? He would make a mess in the process like last night, but he would be fine.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of a twig snapping. You immediately pause in your tracks, wipping your head in the direction of the noise. You think to yourself that it must be him, Vessel has found you. A squirrel then comes into view, russeling leaves as it moves. You let out a sigh of disappointment and annoyance. Not another squirrel ruining things for you.

You then feel a large hand grab yours, and you gasp at the unexpected contact. You wip around to look at whoever is grabbing you, ready to fight back this time if it's one of the men from last night. But it's not. Instead, you are met with a tall human like entity in a black robe, black pants, midnight skin, and a white and red mask with a strange sigil on the forehead. Vessel.

He smiles widely and pulls you into him. He wraps his arms around you tightly and barries his face in the crook of your neck. "You have come back to me at last" he mutters into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bull up his robe in your fists, latching on to him like a kitten climbing its owner's leg. He's okay. Thank God he's okay. "I told you I would" you say with a small chuckle. He releases you from his hold and places his hands on your cheeks, gently guiding you to look up at his masked face.

"I missed you so much" he whispered lovingly. He wasted no time then in leaning down and capturing your lips with his. You let out a sigh into the kiss, relief washing over you. His lips leave yours to then plant a kiss to your cheek, leaving you lightheaded. "I missed you too" you whisper back to him, reaching up and softly stroking his cheek under the side of his mask.

He leans into your touch and gently grabs your wrist, stroking his thumb idoly on the back of your hand. Although you can't see his eyes, you imagine that he probably has them closed in this moment, savoring the feeling of your soft hand against his rough face.

"I was beginning to think that you weren't going to return" Vessel says as he turns his head and presses his lips to your palm. Your heart aches after hearing him say that. He really thought you wouldn't come back? After leaving him last night, all you could think about was seeing him again. He has taken up space in your mind and heart in ways nobody ever has before, and he thought you weren't coming back?

You take his cheeks in your hands and gently guide his head to look at you. "I will always come back to you" you whisper to him. The cryptid responds with a shakey breath, bringing his hands to your waist to pull you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck instinctively, allowing him to embrace you fully. "I'm going to kiss you, my Eden" he whispers in a husky tone, "and I don't have any intention of stopping this time".

Without any further delay, he crashes his lips into yours, kissing you with head spinning passion and hunger. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you let out a quiet moan. You open your lips slightly, inviting him to explore your mouth with his tounge, an invitation he gladly accepts. Vessel moves his hands from your waist to your hair, carding his long fingers through the strands.

You can feel him start to bring you down, and the next thing you know, you are lying on the forrest floor with Vessel on top of you. His lips leave yours for the first time in what felt like centuries and he starts planting open mouth kisses on your neck. His hot breath on your neck combined with his heavenly lips cause a pool of heat to emerge in the pit of your stomach.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep any noises that want to escape caged in. You then feel Vessel replace his lips with his teeth. His pointed canines bite at your skin, but he is being more gentle than he would with his prey. He's not biting hard enough to draw blood but enough to cause just a bit of pain. The pain is immediately replaced with pleasure as he darts out his tongue to soothe the bite. He repeats this process all up and down your neck, and at this point, your attempt to stay quiet is forgotten, and you are a moaning mess beneath him.

"Your heart is beating so fast, my Eden" he growls into your ear, taking a small nip at your earlobe. You let out a small whimper in response, not trusting your voice in this moment. "You are devine, my love. I don't ever want us to be apart again" his gravely voice says as he continues his work on your neck. You are in too much of a daze to say it, but you feel the same way. Every kiss makes your stomach flip. Every touch sends shivers running up your spine. You don't know how you survived for this long without Vessel. You are convinced meeting him in the forrest last night was a work of fate.

You feel his warm calloused palms on your bare stomach. You did not realize he snaked his hands under your sweater till his skin made contact with yours. Vessel lifts his head up from your neck to look into your eyes. Your eyes are half lidded, and your lips are slightly parted as you stare back at him. The evidence of how your body is reacting to his lips and hands is showing on your face. Meanwhile, with Vessel's mask on, you can't really read his face. But he is breathing heavier than before and his sharp canines are on display before you as the tip of your nose brushes his.

You feel his hot breath fan over your mouth and mingle with yours, and you mentally beg for him to close the gap. "You're so soft" he mutters with that same gravely tone as he continues to slide his hands up your torso. Without giving it much thought, you slide your hands from his shoulders and start to slowly carress down his torso. Vessel's breath hitches in his throat once you reach his abs. You feel him stiffen slightly under your touch like you have found a particularly sensitive area. Meanwhile, his large hands have found your breasts, and he cuffs and kneads them instinctively. You take your bottom lip between your teeth and moan under his touch.

Vessel sees this and responds with a seductive hum. "Is this what you like, darling?" He asks with a mischievous smile, "You like when I touch you like this?". You nod your head rapidly as you let out a stuttering breath. You start moving your hands further down Vessel's abs until you reach his lower stomach, your fingertips finding body hair leading to his pant line. He lets a small chuckle escape his grinning mouth.

"My love, it appears that your hands have a mind of their own," he remarks teasingly. You offer him a small smile in response to his comment. "So do yours," you mutter breathlessly, your eyes quickly motioning down to his hands on your breasts under your sweater. He then takes things a step further by slipping his hands under your bra to initiate direct skin to skin contact. You close your eyes and alow your head to lull back, letting out a breathy whimper as his thumbs glide over your hardened nipples.

Vessel looks upon your blissed out state underneath him, and he can't help but think about what you would look and sound like if he had all of you. Everything about you is already so alluring to him. Your skin is as soft as the finest silk. Your moans and whimpers are like delicious erotic music to his ears. You're so beautiful. He is a moth, and you are a brightly glowing warm flame that he can't resist.

He lets out a low groan that he did not know he was holding in, and he leans down to capture your lips in another hungry kiss. You grab Vessel's hips and bring them down onto yours, making it so he is no longer hovering over you and your bodies are flushed with each other. All that can be heard in the quiet, evening twilight of the forrest is the sound the autumn leaves russeling under you and Vessel and your combined whimpers and groans.

"I need you, my Eden." Vessel mumbles breathlessly between kisses. "Please, I must have you." You can tell Vessel is growing more desperate by the minute, and he is no longer in a teasing mood. His deep groans have been replaced with needy whimpers. His grip on your breasts has tightened, and he is starting to grind down onto you. You can feel how hard he is for you through his loose black pants. The friction he is causing makes you cry out in pleasure, the sound being muffled by Vessel's mouth on yours. You can't take it anymore. The ache in your core has become too much. You want Vessel, no, you need him. You won't let anything or anyone keep you from him. "Vessel..." You breathe into him as you start to slide your thumbs under his pant line, ready to remove them as soon as you have his permission.

"Who's out there!?" A deep disembodied voice echos through the forrest. You both jolt out of your blissful state at the sudden interruption. Vessel takes his weight off of you and kneels while you sit up and look all around with wide eyes. Panic creeps in, and the moment is ruined. You both thought you were alone, but it looks like you're not. You start to see a stream of light dancing around in the distance, and then you hear the voice again. "This is the police. You are trespassing in a restricted area!" Your breath is caught in your throat. The police must be doing another sweep of the forrest before nightfall. They must have heard you and Vessel fooling around, and now they are looking for you.

"We know someone is out here! Come out with your hands up!" The police officer demands. You're too stricken with anxiety to move. Vessel pulls you out of your daze by wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you close to his chest, his other hand planted firmly on the ground with his fingernails digging into the earth. You hear his growl and feel his chest vibrate against you. You look up at him and see him looking off to the distance with his teeth bared, ready to fight off the intruders and protect you. You can't let him do this. They are police officers, which means there is no way they are not armed. They could seriously hurt Vessel or even kill him. You reach up and turn his head to look at you, his gaze instantly softening a bit as he meets yours.

"Vessel, don't attack them. We need to run" you whisper to him uneasily, searching his face for any sign that he is willing to hear you out. He lifts his hand from the ground and cups the back of your neck. "It's alright, my love. I won't let them lay a finger on you. I will keep you safe". You have to convince him that running is the better option. If the police see you in Vessel's arms, they're not going to think you are just another pair of young lovers having an early evening rendezvous in the forrest. No, they're going to see a girl being held captive by the cryptid that lurks in the forrest.

"Vessel, these guys aren't like the guys from last night. They have weapons that can kill you" you tell him while emphasizing the word 'kill'. You can see Vessel is starting to lose his patience as he lets out a breathy grunt. "I share a life force with my diety. I can not be killed, but you can. Which is why I must protect you" he whispers to you in a half frustrated tone. While Vessel's concern for your safety is endearing, you fear that it might also be hindering his ability to listen to you.

You can hear the footsteps getting closer and see the light from the poice officer's flashlight becoming more visible. You look into Vessel's six eyes and clutch his bicep. "Please" you croak, desperate to get him to flea with you. You can feel Vessel reading your fearful expression. He does smell fear on you, but it's not fear for your own life, but fear for his. Vessel feels his heart crumbling at how much you care for him and his safety. It reminds him that you're here, you're real, you're his. He has been on his own for so long that he forgot what it meant to trust someone. He realizes now that it's not only important to trust his own instincts but to trust yours as well.

Vessel sighs out of his nose and places a quick kiss in the space between your eyebrows before he swiftly takes you by the hand and runs at full speed with you away from the police.

[theseventhdimension]

do you write for Rossi? If so, i’d love a season 5 Rossi x younger male reader, basically like Reader being from a European country as well, speaking with a British accent or something, and him and Rossi are always the ones having to deal with more “foreign” cases, or have to be baits when the unsubs are going after people noticeably not from the US?

maybe, they have to be at a queer club, because the unsub hates queer and foreign people, so the Bau sends in Rossi and Reader as a couple, bonus points for like Derek saying smth along the lines of “You alright with being at a gay club?” and Reader being like “why wouldn’t i be, i’m gay” [insert “is he gay or european? gay or european?” if you know the meme]

lol, if not no worries, i just love your stories :)

Gay? European?? Both???

Pairing: David Rossi x Male! Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

DNI: Fem-aligned

Author's Note: Ggggguess who just got back from holiday! This first sentence is a dedication to how I felt that entire trip, I thought it'd be colder so i rugged up but.. scarves and alcohol do wonders for heat, and I was boiling by the end of the night.

Never written for Rossi before, but he's so sassy and this request was just sooo yummy that I had to write it. It took me about 15 minutes to compile the headboard photos of him for the masterlist.. there's, like, nothing of him on pintrest :// As always, all feed back is appreciated ;) Hope you enjoy!!

Nothing says ‘vacation’ like sweat, vodka, and a hate crime.

The fluorescent lights overhead flicker once before settling into their usual hum. You sit sideways in your chair, long legs stretched out, one polished boot crossed over the other. Your accent—British, with a lilt that hints at time spent in other cities—cuts through the drone of early morning like a straight razor.

You toy with your pen, barely listening as Garcia runs through the case. You already know the pattern. You could see it two victims ago.

Stylish. Queer. Foreign.

'Your people.'

JJ clicks through the slide deck. “The unsub’s choosing victims from queer clubs across Boston. Always immigrants or visitors. Two French, one Brazilian, one from Iceland, one Czech. They were all killed with military precision—blunt trauma, strangulation, no defensive wounds.”

“The latest was found behind The Nest. It's a queer venue that caters to an international clientele. They’ve agreed to let us operate undercover.” Morgan reports, reading off the case file.

“We’ve coordinated with Boston PD,” Hotch adds, voice even. “The Nest is cooperating. They’ve agreed to let us place agents undercover. We need a couple who can pass as both queer and foreign.”

You don’t even look up, just murmur dryly, “Woooowww, I wonder who that could be..”

From across the table, Rossi exhales through his nose, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Shocking, really.”

From across the room, Morgan smirks. “You alright being posted at a gay club?”

You arch a brow. “..Why wouldn’t I be? I’m gay.”

Garcia gasps theatrically. Reid blinks. She squints at him, stage-whispering, “Wait, is he gay or European?”

Reid frowns thoughtfully. “Well, hey, don't look at me—”

Hotch pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are our couple. Coordinate with local PD. Surveillance will be active at all exits. Stay close. Blend in. Try not to start an international incident.”

You rise, rolling your sleeves to the elbow as you pass behind Rossi’s chair, fingers grazing the back of his shoulder with practiced ease.

“Better wear your good shoes, David. I plan on dancing.”

He tilts his head up, that unreadable expression flickering across his face again. “You leading?”

“Always.”

Morgan mutters something about Eurotrash and mesh shirts as he walks out.

You don’t bother responding. You’re already thinking about the strobe lights, the music, the feeling of your hand on the small of Rossi's back—and whether, by the end of the night, he’ll still be pretending it’s just a job.

The nest is not just a club. It’s a pressure cooker.

The lights strobe in slow motion, bathing sweat-slick bodies in deep fuchsia and electric blue. The music pulses through you—bass vibrating in your ribs, in your throat, in your spine. A sensory overload that feels like war, or sex, or both.

You glide through the entrance like it’s a fashion show and you’re the main event. Tall, chiseled, dressed in black-on-black—European tailoring sharp enough to draw blood, sleeves pushed to mid-forearm, forearms flexing as you adjust your watch. Your hair is styled like you didn’t try, ..which means you spent twenty minutes getting it just right. You smell like oud and leather and something old-money.

Rossi follows, less showy but just as deliberate. He’s in dark navy and steel grey, shirt open just enough to hint. Less predator, more coiled spring. His eyes never stop moving.

You glance back at him, the corner of your mouth crooking upward. “Try to look like you belong, darling. You're clenching like someone asked you to do math in Italian.” Rossi exhales, just barely amused. “I belong fine.”

“Mm,” you hum, already scanning the room. “Then loosen up. They’ll smell the cop on you faster than your cologne.”

Rossi huffs, but it’s fond. And he follows when you lead—through bodies, past pounding speakers, to the sleek black bar under a bank of lights.

“Two gin tonics,” you tell the bartender with a voice low and honey-warm, your British accent curling around every syllable like velvet. You lean one elbow against the counter, angled toward Rossi, body heat brushing against his arm like it’s habit.

You sense the man before you see him—a slick presence to your left. Tall, but not tall enough. Tanned, open-shirted, dripping entitlement like sweat. He clocks you, then shifts his eyes to Rossi with a predatory grin.

“You two a thing?” he asks.

You don’t even look at him. Just take a sip of your drink, then slide it between Rossi’s hands before speaking. “That’s one way of putting it.”

The guy scoffs. “Shame. You could do better.”

You finally turn, towering just slightly over him, gaze cold and clean like a cut diamond. “He’s exactly my type, actually. Sharp. Seasoned. Doesn’t talk too much.” You scowl, looking him up and down with mockery.

Rossi blinks, and you feel the corner of his mouth twitch like he didn’t expect that.

The guy backs off, muttering something under his breath. Your hand finds Rossi’s lower back, guiding him toward the floor before he can speak.

“Handled,” you say.

“I had it under control,” Rossi murmurs.

“Sure you did, darlin'.” You smirk. “But I like it when they know you’re spoken for."

The dancefloor folds around you—sweaty, writhing, senseless. You carve out a space in the center, and when Rossi hesitates, you simply take his hand. Fingers laced. Confident. No room for nerves.

You pull him in. One hand on his hip, one shoulder rolled downward to meet his height. You start to move, grounding him. Leading him.

“You’re not bad at this,” he murmurs, a touch breathless.

You lean in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You’re lucky I like your mouth.”

The grip on your bicep tightens—but he lets you lead. Lets you press a little closer than necessary. Lets the sway of your hips guide his. It’s all for show. All part of the op.

And none of it feels fake.

A flicker of motion near the back wall catches your eye—tall man, pale coat, too still for this place. He’s watching. Not dancing. Not drinking. The kind of presence that doesn’t belong unless it’s hunting something.

You pull Rossi closer, until your foreheads almost touch, and murmur low: “Back wall. Blond. Ten o’clock. Doesn’t fit.”

Rossi doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even look. “Got it.”

Still swaying, you tilt your head back just enough to see him. “You alright?”

His eyes find yours in the low light. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You barely whisper the words:

“Because blondie’s cutting through. He’s trailing that redhead from earlier.”

Rossi’s jaw tightens beside you. “You sure it’s him?”

“I’d bet my last coat.” Your eyes track the unsub weaving through bodies like smoke. “He doesn’t belong. He doesn’t sweat. And he’s carrying something under his jacket.”

“Weapon?”

You nod once. “Left side. Could be a garrote. Or a knife.”

Rossi speaks low into his comms. “We have eyes on a possible. Caucasian male, late thirties, light coat. Headed toward the mezzanine stairs.”

“Copy,” comes Hotch’s voice in your earpiece. “Do not engage unless necessary.”

You’re already moving.

The mezzanine overlooks the dance floor—sound muffled, the lights lower, the crowd thinner. It’s where people go to be seen. Or to disappear.

You tug Rossi with you, weaving up the steps with practiced ease, two lovers too entangled to be suspicious. But your eyes never leave the man ahead of you.

The unsub corners the redhead against the far railing, voice low, hand creeping toward his coat.

She’s laughing, but it’s brittle. Nervous.

Time fractures.

Your hand is on his shoulder in a blink. Your voice drops into something colder than charm, smoother than steel.

“Excuse me. She’s with us.”

He turns, startled—but you’re already stepping in, taller and broader and much more dangerous than you look under mood lighting. The unsub’s eyes flick down to your chest, then over to Rossi behind you.

You smile.

“Walk away.”

He sneers. “Or what?”

Rossi’s voice slides in like a knife. “Or I break your fucking jaw.”

That gets him.

He moves—quick, jerky, desperate. The blade flashes silver, up and out, but you’re faster. You twist his wrist before he even commits to the lunge, yank his arm behind his back, and drive him hard into the metal railing. The redhead stumbles back, gasping.

“FBI!” Rossi barks, gun drawn, voice cutting through the bass. “Drop it!”

The knife clatters to the floor. The unsub writhes under your grip, breathing ragged, cheek pressed to the railing.

You lean in close, lips by his ear, your voice a low growl:

“You really should’ve stayed home tonight.”

Hotch and Morgan appear moments later, parting the crowd like a tide. Morgan takes custody of the perp, cuffing him with a grim twist of satisfaction. The redhead is escorted down the stairs, shaken but unharmed.

You and Rossi remain at the railing for a beat. Breath steadying. Heart still racing.

Rossi holsters his weapon, then glances at you.

“You alright?”

You roll your shoulders, lips twitching. “I’m the one who put him on the floor. Should be asking you that.”

He watches you for a long moment. The way your eyes still scan the mezzanine, the way your chest rises and falls—not panicked. Just alert. Alive.

“..You were good,” he says finally.

You look over, lazy and warm like you hadn’t just taken a man down in silk and leather.

“Course I was.” You smirk. “You like a man who can handle himself, don’t you?”

Rossi’s silence is not quite denial. Not quite confirmation.

You tap his jaw gently with two fingers, then walk past him down the stairs—shoulders relaxed, confident, commanding.

The operation’s over.

But the night isn’t.

[photo1030]

Anonymous asked:

Heyy , so i had this smut idea for a while now, but bare with me please cuz my English isn’t that good lol . Anyway it’s about arthur and f!reader who’s been teasing arthur with a lot of touches and stares all day. But they were all busy that day so nothing happened. Then at the end of the day arthur finally got to be with her alone to sort things out (if you know what i mean) and confront her.

Ik … not very fluent in English lol , but I really really LOVE your writing so i figured i should maybe request something

Hello again, my lovely Anon!

Thank you for the "ask"! This was certainly a fun one to write out. I wasn't sure if you wanted Arthur and reader to be friends with longing tendencies, or in an existing relationship. I went with the latter. Hopefully that is okay. Either way, it ends up with some steamy goodness. If you need it tweaked the other way, let me know.

LEATHER AND LACE - CLOSE, BUT NOT CLOSE ENOUGH

Summary: You and Arthur have been trying to get some time alone together all day, to no avail. But by the end of the day, Arthur finally gets what he wants.

Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This is not my image. I have found it posted on multiple pages on Pintrest but can't find the originator. If anyone knows, let me know for specific photo credit.

Masterlist

The early morning sun tries to cut its way into the woods, cutting the dewy mist with its beams of warm, golden light. The burgeoning glow sets the birds into motion, their busy little chirps filling the brisk air around the camp. 

You are dead tired this morning. It was a long, hard day of chores yesterday and when you had turned in for the night, all you wanted to do was rest your weary head on that lumpy pillow of yours atop of that squeaky cot. And with all of the hustling and work lately, Arthur was hoping to have a little “private time” with you last night, too. 

But much to his disappointment, you had already passed out the moment your head hit the pillow, already fast asleep before he could even get his boots off. So with a sigh and just a bit of frustration, Arthur lumbered onto the cot next to you for the night. 

So this morning, you are reluctant to crack open your eyes when the feeling of Arthur’s heavy arm makes its way around your waist, slowly exploring your midsection and creeping up to your breast with his fingertips. His chest is pressed up against your back as he spoons you tightly to him, his skin radiating a comforting heat that sinks down through your skin and into the very center of your body. You can already feel his half-erect cock finding its place against the bottom of your rear. 

In this precious little moment, you are faced with a “difficult” decision:  do you try to get some very much-needed sleep? Or do you give in to the temptation of your beloved outlaw? 

“G’ Mornin’, Darlin’”

His low, raspy voice, cracked with remnants of sleep, floats its way into your ear and breaks through your mind’s thoughts…and that is all it takes for you to decide. A smile slowly emerges across your face without you even opening your eyes. 

“Good morning to you too, my lover.” You playfully reach up to encircle your arm around his head, turning your face back towards his. Your greeting is met with a simple low groan of approval as Arthur’s lips seek out the cuff of your ear. 

You gently roll over onto your back, looking up into his awaiting face. His hair is rumpled from the night and his eyes are still heavy-lidded with fatigue. Yet those eyes still sparkle like the bluest sky as they meet your own. And your heart could burst at how that is the first thing you get to see in the morning.

He leans down to gently catch your lips into a kiss. It’s the first of many to come for the day, knowing you two. You push your body upwards to flatten against his, your leg bending up to entwine with his burly ones. A soft giggle emanates from your throat as you deepen the kiss and run your hand along his cheek and up behind his head to pull him down to you. Arthur is quick to roll himself to climb over you, settling himself between your spread legs. Your lips press together, repeatedly working over the other’s as his hands begin to explore along your chest, grappling at the tender flesh there.

You lift your hips just a bit in invitation as Arthur rocks back and forth ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back as your fingertips drag along the thick muscles of his back, trailing through the soft body hair that scatters across his wide frame. 

“Arthur? You in there?”

Your eyes shoot wide open, instantly snapped out of your blissful reverie at the deep-sounding voice coming from the other side of your shared tent. Arthur seems to be oblivious to the intrusion at first as his motions atop of you do not slow down in the slightest. 

“Arthur?” the voice repeats.

Finally, Arthur collects his thoughts enough to respond.

“Go away, Bill,” mumbles Arthur, pausing in his administrations only long enough to warn the burly man outside the canvas, as he has no intention of stopping right now. 

“There’s a group of us heading out. Got a tip on a stagecoach coming through.” Bill pushes insistently. “Come on, we gotta go.” 

“Not now, Bill!” barks Arthur as he keeps kissing you, his teeth nipping at the tender skin of your neck and collarbone. 

You are trying not to focus on the fact that someone is not only outside your tent at this inopportune moment, but actually having a conversation with Arthur as his erect cock is rubbing against your aching heat, mere moments away from being embedded into the warm cradle between your legs. 

“Well, Dutch is askin’ for you. So what do you want me to tell him, then?” Bill asks impatiently.

“Bill!” you suddenly snap, lifting your head to turn your burning gaze over Arthur’s broad shoulder towards the tent flap. “If you do not walk away from this tent right now, so help me God…!”

“Oh!” Bill’s eyes open wide and his face suddenly turns beet-red as the realization of what he is interrupting becomes all too clear. “Oh, sorry! I’ll..uh…come back, I guess.” He snickers as he abruptly turns to hurry-off back to the waiting group. 

An exasperated sigh pushes out of your nose as your head plunks back against the pillow. Arthur has finally stopped the amorous actions, but still lays overtop of you, motionless and reluctant to move. 

“Well, that just killed the mood,” you huff, noting how Arthur’s face has turned down into a hard frown. 

Arthur takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I know I said I can never leave the gang, but there’s moments like this that I am open to the discussion.”

“Don’t tease me, now,” you warn as a tiny grin creeps its way across your lips. Arthur just rolls his eyes and sits up, playfully pushing your legs to the side so he can sit at the edge of the cot to get himself dressed. 

Back at the hitching posts, Bill approaches the waiting group with a smirk on his face, shaking his head. 

“Where’s Arthur?” asks Dutch impatiently, his gaze looking past Bill’s shoulder when he does not see the man in question in attendance. “You were supposed to go get him.”

“He’s…uh…busy at the moment.” Bill offers this obscure excuse to the men with a quirked eyebrow.

Dutch’s ringed hands land on his hips, his impatience growing by the minute. “Busy doing what, exactly?”

“More like, busy doing who?” chuckles Bill. 

It only takes Dutch a moment to realize what Bill is talking about before his dark eyes roll to the heavens. “Oh, for Christ’s sake…”

—-----------------------------------------

Fortunately, the coach job didn’t take too long. Arthur had begrudgingly pulled himself from your warm and loving arms to drudge over to join his companions. He got a good ribbing from the men, as was expected, but all it did was aggravate his already irritable demeanor. He wanted to spend the morning buried between your legs in his tent, not between Bill and John on their smelly horses.

By the time the men get back to camp, you and the other girls are already embedded into more chores. Seems there is always something to do. In fact, the moment he gets back to camp and unpacked, Ms. Grimshaw is quick to get Arthur to the wood pile, stating that the firewood is already low again. He shoots you a quick glance, your eyes meeting briefly across the camp, before giving her an exasperated sigh as he reluctantly heads over to the ax to get started.  

As you work with your needle and thread to mend shirts and darn socks, you delightfully treat yourself to observe Arthur as he chops the firewood. His strong arms slam the ax down onto the chunks of timber, causing them to splinter in his wake. His muscled arms flex with each blow, his wide shoulders set beautifully with each stroke. His burly legs set into a wide stance, the tendons there rippling beneath the fabric of his trousers with each jarring blow. 

The sight of it makes your heart race so fast that it skips a beat in your chest, knowing that this hulking man belongs to you. Your legs involuntarily cross and squeeze your thighs in an attempt to contain your arousal, a feeling that has yet to be quelled since your abrupt separation this morning. You try to finish your mending as quickly as you can so that you can steal away to go over there. 

“Hey, you,” you call to Arthur as you eventually saunter over, swinging your hips with a cheshire-cat-like grin on your face. 

Arthur lifts his head as he tosses a heavy piece of wood as if it were feather-light. The second his irritable eyes land on your beautiful form floating towards him, the tension melts away from his weathered face. He stands up straight, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you.”

You hand him a cup of cool water, which he gratefully accepts as your fingers linger across his knuckles like an ivy vine. You intently watch him as he gulps the refreshing liquid down, observing how his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. God, how you want to plant your lips all over his neck right now. You shift your weight from hip to hip and bite your bottom lip as you watch him.

You step up even closer, bumping your hip into his and giving him that look. Arthur looks at you with intrigue. He swipes the back of his gloved hand across his mouth, wiping away the water droplets that escaped his lips. He dips his head to kiss you, but halts mid-stride when you hear Ms. Grimshaw’s shrill voice hollering for you from across the camp. 

“Y/N! Quit foolin’ around with Arthur and get over here! I ain’t done with you yet!” You and Arthur turn your heads to see the woman standing in the clearing, arms crossed and face twisted up in annoyance.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Arthur mutters. He turns back to you and the disappointment is plain on your face. You could be off wrapping your legs around this man’s waist, but no. You are needed elsewhere…to stitch holes in socks. 

—------------------------------------

And so it goes for the rest of the day. It's as if the universe is purposely trying to keep you and Arthur apart. But Ms. Grimshaw is shrewd. Normally, you and Arthur can get a lot of work done when paired together. But when the two of you are acting more flirtatious than usual, the only way she can get anything done is to completely separate the two of you. Like wound-up teenagers, you and Arthur are known to play around and get distracted, sometimes even disappearing altogether. So the matriarch has been keen to assign you tasks on opposite sides of the camp. 

Seeing an opportunity to catch you alone, Arthur comes up to you while you’re cooking. You are over at the food wagon, stirring the heavy cast-iron pot for tonight’s dinner when you hear the grass and leaves crunching behind you. You don’t even have to turn around to know he’s behind you, as the scent of leather and cigarettes, mingled with clove, permeates your senses. It’s a familiar fragrance that will immediately set your mind to race, making your blood run hot. 

Arthur pushes his chest up against your back just enough to create that electricity. You suck your lip in between your teeth to silence any wanton noise that would be in danger of bubbling up from your throat. You turn your head slightly to the side, catching the pale blue color of his faded work shirt as he runs a single finger down the length of your arm.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan, there you are! I haven’t seen you all day.” Mr. Pearson suddenly appears out from behind the wagon with an armload of ingredients for you to cut and chop for tonight’s stew. 

“Glad you’re here! Listen, did I ever tell you about the time I got into a fist-fight with a fella from town? He was an honest-to-God boxer. But I was too quick for him, you see. It was a good fight, too.”

Mr. Pearson is so wrapped up in his own story that the disappointed groan that comes from you goes unnoticed. Arthur’s brow settles into a hard, dangerous frown again. If it wouldn’t land him a stinging slap upside the head from Ms. Grimshaw, he’d land his fist in the portly man’s face just to shut him up. On and on Pearson goes, excited to have a captive audience for his rambling. You try your best to be polite and smile and nod along, but Arthur has never been one for social etiquette and quickly finds an excuse to walk away. 

After you suffer through yet another one of Mr. Pearson’s stories and manage to get tonight’s dinner going, you set off to find Arthur again. The sexual tension is building and you can’t wait too much longer to deal with it. You finally locate him over by the horses. 

Arthur is preoccupied with getting Buck saddled up, fixing the straps of the saddle and filling his saddle bags with provisions. He’s bent over at the waist, checking Buck’s hooves for any muck or debris, and you come up behind him, slowly running your hands up his back, pushing your fingertips into the muscle. You can feel Arthur shudder from your touch. But he quickly switches gears, muscles stiffening up under your hands.

“Quit. I can’t be startin’ that now,” he quickly scolds you.

“Oh really?” you purr as you press up against him, thinking he’s playing hard-to-get.

“I mean it. Knock it off.” He spins away from you, putting his hand on your forearm and holding you at arm's length as if you were something offensive. 

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “Excuse me?” Your arms cross indignantly over your chest in disbelief. 

But he doesn’t mean to be cruel. He has to focus on what needs to be done. He can’t get sidetracked by those improper thoughts of you. And he has so many of those thoughts about you right now. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Look, it ain’t you, alright? I gotta head out. Dutch needs me to handle something for Strauss.”

You give a long frustrated huff. “Figures,” you mumble under your breath, taking a step back even further away from him.

“Don’t get mad at me for it!” he snaps.

“I’m not.” 

His ocean-colored eyes flash at you. “Yeah, you are!”

“Arthur, if I was mad at you, you’d know it,” you snark back.

“Oh, so this look on your face is one of joy, then?” he says with dripping sarcasm as his hand waves inches from your nose. 

You slap his hand down, your eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I ain’t bein’ in ass!” His voice raises in volume as his limits get tested. He drags his hand over his face in frustration. “Nevermind. Can we deal with this later? I got things to do.” He plants his hands on his hips in impatience.

“Of course you do.” You give him an eye roll, your hair tossing in the air, as you spin on your heels to head back to the campfire. 

—--------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you are walking through the camp. Arthur is nowhere to be seen, which is annoying. You grab the water bucket and head over to the edge of camp to dump it, when you hear a whistle. Confused, you follow the noise as it leads you to the tree line. Suddenly, a massive hand shoots out of the shadows and clamps over your wrist. It's Arthur. He holds his finger up to his lips in a shushing motion, tilting his head to indicate to follow him before you can even utter a word. 

You quietly follow as he leads you away from camp and into the dark and awaiting forest, confused as to what in the world he’s up to. When you get to a thick collection of trees, he stops. 

“Arthur, what are you doing-” but you can’t get another word out before he spins on you and roughly grabs your face, crushing his mouth into yours. You can’t even breathe, as he sucks the air right out of your lungs. He backs you up a few paces, hands still clamped around your cheeks, until your backside hits a tree, trapped and unable to move anywhere else.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Can’t wait a damn second longer. I gotta have ya and have ya now.” He grabs at the fabric of your skirt without warning or permission and starts to hike it up, but you are quick to grab his wrists.

“What?! Out here? Arthur, someone is going to see us!” you gasp, shocked at his brazenness. 

“Don’t care,” he grits out as he pins your body to the tree with his own, his lips attacking your neck. He maneuvers your hands away from his own in order to keep pulling at the skirt fabric which is the only barrier between him and his prize. 

“But Arthur-” You try to take a second to try to talk some sense into him, but he silences you again, shoving his tongue down your throat. Your hands shoot up to his shoulders with a feeble push to try to get him to stop. But by releasing your grasp on his wrists, it frees him to reach up further under your skirt and yank your bloomers off, ripping them at the seam. 

The sudden jerk causes you to gasp and it’s as if a switch has been pulled within you. The culmination of pent-up desire has come to a head as you no longer care about the world around you two. You look up at him with hungry, needy eyes of your own, but see nothing but pure lust reflecting back at you, like looking into the face of a wolf.

Your own pupils are blown wide with yearning and briefly flick from his captive gaze to his full lips. And with that brief glimpse of approval from you, Arthur shoves his arms under your thighs and lifts you up off the ground, slamming you back into the tree trunk. The motion causes the wind to briefly knock out of your lungs as your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on and keep yourself from falling to the ground. 

His hips grind harshly into you as his mouth devours your jawline and neck. You can feel how hard he is under the fabric of his trousers. Your precious little gasps only spur him on faster. Arthur fumbles with the buttons of his pants, pulling out his rock-hard cock. You can feel the tip of him rubbing hotly against your inner thigh, the length of him dragging along the folds of your heat. He seems impossibly rigid at the moment and you take a split second to wonder if it's actually painful for him. The thought of it causes you to desperately whine and moan in anticipation. 

Arthur can be soft and attentive as a lover, and he can also be hot and passionate. But, every once in awhile, he can be just outright insatiable. A downright, dirty outlaw. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he smirks, pleased with your reaction to his thick manhood teasing your sensitive skin. Cocky bastard. 

All you can do is nod, your mouth agape and gasping for air.

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t about to stop now.” He lines himself up to you and pushes in, burying himself until his pelvis is flat against yours. You cry out with a wanton little whimper, your head thrown back until it knocks onto the bark behind you with an ungraceful thud. Arthur is large between his legs, always a tight fit within you, but you have zero complaints about it. 

“C’mon, baby, let me hear ya,” he coaxes in your ear. He immediately starts to pump into you, quick and desperate. Your back begins to drag along the tree as he ruts into you. The tree bark cuts into your skin, even through the fabric of your blouse, but you couldn’t care any less. 

“Jesus, Arthur,” you moan. “Right there…(gasping) just like that…just like that.” You try to lean back, pushing your hips towards him and he grunts with a devilish grin. 

“That’s right, girl”.

The beautifully lewd symphony that the two of you create could be heard by anyone in the area if they are close enough. Moans and stifled screams wrap around the wet sounds of tongues and lips clicking, while the unmistakable sound of skin against skin vibrates throughout the ring of trees that encompasses you.  

Arthur lets your one leg drop down so that he can use that hand to reach between you. The pads of his fingers find their way to that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled within your folds and he begins to curl and rub. His other arm that is still hooked under your knee pulls your hip up, opening your gait even more, allowing his cock to ram into the back wall of your cunt with full force. 

It's too much. You loudly cry out at the additional stimulation, your breath gasping as your hands pinch into the meat of his shoulders. 

The sight of you coming undone before his eyes is enough to melt his mind. You lean forward this time, burying your head into his shoulder and letting your whole body go limp in his arms like a rag doll, giving in to sweet pleasure and just letting him have his way with you. 

When you cling to him, he immediately pulls his hand away from your heat and lifts you back up again to get better leverage. He pounds into you even harder, chasing that euphoric ending. You are completely at his mercy now, mercy which will never come. The sexual tension that has been building all day like the pressure of a tea kettle boiling some water has finally been released. And like that scalding hot water, Arthur’s lust burns you.

“Baby, I’m…I’m close…” he sputters, his forehead digging into your temple. You can’t even form coherent words to give him a reply. In fact, you couldn’t care any less about anything he is saying right now, only about what he is doing. 

Your climax is a tidal wave as your hands dig into his shoulder like the claws of a bobcat. The painful sensation of your fingernails cutting into his flesh is enough to push him over the edge as he quickly drops your legs, pulling himself out of you before his spend is sent hurling into the grass at your feet. Lightning clouds his vision as Arthur lets out a loud moan of release, not even bothering to try to hold anything back. His rough hands clasp the rough bark of the tree behind you, snapping pieces of it off in his palms as he braces himself for his own overstimulation.

As his large body comes down from its high, Arthur hangs his head, leaning it against your collarbone, his chest heaving for air. Your legs are shaking, trying to keep upright as you bring your hands up along the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks. Your thumbs begin to stroke his cheekbones to calm him and you press light kisses to his temple as you catch your own breath. 

He slowly pulls his face back to look into yours. Both of you are left speechless. That feral beast that drug you off into the woods to be devoured is no longer in front of you. The man you recognize and love oh-so deeply is back, that sweet grin on his lips. 

“What the hell was that?” you pant out in surprise.

“A man’s got needs,” he smirks with that devilish grin. “And I needed you.” He shakes his eyebrows suggestively at you as he kisses your still-trembling lips. 

“I guess so."

[myloveonherknees]

pinned post! information about this blog below the cut ♡

about this blog

i've been looking through the wayback machine to see what's been captured from hayden's – of ethel cain fame for the uninitiated – old social media accounts, and i found a lot of stuff i hadn't seen floating around elsewhere. i started posting some of those finds here (and on pintrest, but i have definitely fallen off updating it). as of now, i post most of the things i find with the ultimate goal of creating an archive.

the bulk of content on this blog came from searching captures of hayden's twitter account from the beginning of the ethel cain project through to when it was deactivated in 2023. once i'm through with twitter, i'll be posting more content from other platforms.

here's an ask where i explain how i find this stuff.

p.s. i continually edit this pinned post. just letting you know that it changes over time!

navigating this blog

navigate chronologically & tag list

photos from the same day will be tagged with the date they were posted in yyyy/mm/dd format (i am not american)

i've been including a link to the corresponding internet archive capture in all my posts. you'll get there by clicking "twitter" in the caption (or by clicking the date, i switched this up midway through posting)

misc

please be normal ♡ (i.e. don't be a bigot, idc about your negative feelings about hayden/ethel cain, etc. i will block you)

related to the above, if you see someone using the reblogs as a platform for their bigotry that i seem to have missed, please feel free to DM me/bring it to my attention in some way.

removal – i'm happy to remove things for a variety of reasons, please just send me a DM! i.e. happy to take down something that belongs to you, a photo that includes you or that was taken by you, mentions of your name or your blog, etc.

crediting – these photos aren't meaningfully mine. they belong to hayden (and/or her photographers where applicable), i've just found them somewhere relatively hidden and posted them to be more widely available. i'd appreciate it if you didn't lift my posts word for word, but aside from that it's chill.

i'm only posting these things here on tumblr and on my pintrest (linked below). accounts on other platforms making similar posts are not me.

this is a side blog – most of the functionality is the same as a regular blog, but i'm unable to follow anyone! i'm also prone to accidentally switching up my blogs, which could manifest in accidental reblogs (i'll delete them when i catch them), responses from the wrong blog (unsure if i can fix that one), and similar.

i almost exclusively queue things, so posting doesn't necessarily mean i'm online!

links

frequently asked questions

gaza evacuation funds

main blog (mobile link / desktop link)

pintrest

that's all, folks! big love to you, fellow daughters of cain ♡

[zebreacadabra]

"Have One On Me" comparison :

-Right period, Focus on the 20s -

As Joanna said in an interview, a model in a some parisian art studio around 1920 in Paris (France) is one of the inspirations for the HOOM cover photo. For that post, I was planed to speak about 1920's flapper and kind of "the great gatsby" style. In pointing the headpice that Joanna wear on the picture. It's not visible in great details. And knowing the time period, and based on what I can see, I asumed it was some kind of "clasical" well knowned 20's headband. It was verry dificult to find an historical image that match well enought with the shape of that headpice. Lucky me! After houres of reserch, I think I found what Joanna was wearing during the photosoot day. Here it is :

A 1920's Rare Art-Deco Brass Egyptian Revival Flapper.

With those key words, you will can find more informations on the web. Here is what I learned on a Etsy page:

"This is for ONE of these authentic 1920's adjustable brass flapper head piece.

If you search "Egyptian Revival Brass Headpiece" on Pintrest you will find great pictures of these on models and alot of information…These are highly collectible and pretty rare to find for sale.

"These beautifully hammered metal art-deco headpieces were the “must haves” of the roaring 1920’s Egyptian revival period.They were fashioned with green-enamel drops and faux pearls dripping from a circular motif decorated tool bar. The pearl loop is attached to a metal rod that moves freely in a circle so as you move your head they will stay draped properly. Bilateral design and head brass bars are adjustable either way. The headpiece can be slightly bent by hand to match your head and then hammered down to keep that shape.

Only sign of age is some natural patina that is fairly even all over. This patina makes these pieces beautiful and truly antique. Headpiece does adjust to fit up to a 24 inch head comfortably."

https://www.etsy.com/listing/464363798/1920s-rare-art-deco-brass-egyptian?show_sold_out_detail=1&ref=nla_listing_details

[scarxz]

TW: Bright ? maybe a bit bright .

Cutecore psd feat korone !!

CUT3C0RE !!

Day two of @llocket + @lavendergalactic's event !

day 2﹕a 2020s aesthetic (gitchcore, cutecore, kidcore, VSCO, e-girl, etc) OR ﹕ an anime glitter edit or cowprint pattern

more of me speaking under the cut !!

making this psd was really fun lol !

dont kno why theres random green in there but by the point i found out there was green it had been three hours and i was done with everything . . .

but apparently korone was very popular in 2020 so i just randomly found a photo of her while scrolling on pintrest and yah .

i was gonna make more graphics but i just gave up bc i spilt cordial (basically juice with how much i put in) and are cleaning it up after i finish writing this .

all photods found on pintrest and cut by me :3

tutorials i followed were by @.canarysage , @.myuumei & @.imbermagnvs :3

[justradiospirit]

MOODBOARD

———/———/———/———

SPIRITS MOODBOARD:

Photos were all found off of Pintrest or tumblr!!

I used picsart btw <3

omg i love it so much im so happy with how it turned out 😭

[szua]

@cuisinekuga ✰ @editfight attack ♡

ּ ֶָ֢. interact and credit for usage unless kuu. no f/o tags for kaito and jun expect for them, or else i will explode, okay? and everything else is fine i think, oki yeah. all photos in rui's were found via pintrest. please dm for credit or removal. slight brightness warning for kaito.

points : 5 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 0.5 + 1 + 1 = 31.5 I think

[dumb-phone-diaries]

So It's been like 2 months now since I started using the dumb phone. I had a few teething problems but I've actually solved a lot of the issues I mentioned in my last post. I've gotten much more used to the keyboard now and I've found a lot of shortcuts that i didn't realise were there at first so I'm now texting like a pro again.

The audiobook situation is not perfect but i've loaded this thing with a 32 gig SD card, and I found a wonderful opensource program called Libation, which scans my audible account, downloads my books and spits them into chapters all in one step. The bonus side effect of this is that I now have all of the books I've paid for stored on my computer hard drive where they won't disappear is audible changes their minds about hosting them.

This is probably very illegal and you should definitely not download it here: https://getlibation.com/

Granted, the books I'm currently listening to have chapters that are an hour long or so, and I can't exit out of the mp3 player without losing my spot. This has honestly been a blessing in disguise because it forces me to not be distracted every time I get a text message. have to wait for the end of the chapter before I can look at it. I can answer the phone without losing my place.

So yeah. the MP3 player could be better, and honestly there's no reason why it shouldn't be, I'm certain this thing has the capability, it's just shitty programming. But I'm dealing.

More significantly though. I've honestly been surprised at just how quickly my need to scroll has just gone. there wasn't even much of an adjustment period. for a couple of weeks I'd find myself occasionally picking up up my phone, unlocking it, and then locking it again and putting it down cuz there's nothing on there. But very quickly I just don't do that anymore. I don't even think about it that often. All the anxiety that I thought I was soothing, all the noise in my head that I thought i was turning off by scrolling, has just gone. The call was coming from inside the house, guys.

About once a week I come to my laptop and scroll tumblr for a few minutes, maybe half an hour, and I'm using pintrest very rarely if it's the best search engine for something I'm looking up, and I use facebook only for marketplace and my business page, and instagram again only for my business. It's forcing me to be very intentional about those things.

I've also rediscovered my ability to sit and stare into space. I haven't had the brain capacity to read a book with my eyes recently, so over breakfast I'm just... sitting and eating. Which I suppose is quite mindful. but also I'm just spacing out so maybe not. But that's something I haven't been able to do for a long time. It's nice.

I do need to get a camera though I think. I do need it for the business, I can't keep stealing my husband's phone to take pics, and sometimes he's not around when I want to make a post. Also I just like taking photos. The camera in the phone is sufficient for sending pics of things I found in the shops to my husband and sister, or sending my timesheet to my boss because his shitty software won't let me clock in on PC. But it's not good enough for product pics or anything like that.

I'm also now carrying my planner/journal/filofax thing around with me which is something i've been working toward doing for a long time. I don't have access to google calendar while out and about now so I need to write down my appointments properly. I bought a new bag that fits my journal, purse and book. I feel very cute using my planner in public.

So yeah. It's going well so far. I think this may be feasible as a permanent change.

[elvenlia]

Dnd inspired Villian backstory ✨️

(Photo found on pintrest)

As the tales, myths, and legends often go, there is always one being that is inherently more evil than the rest. This case, unfortunately, only further proves that narrative.

Dragon Elf-blood was once like most, full of hope and dreams of sailing the endless seas for years to come. Just a young lad starting off as a deck hand along a pirate ship with many he admired. Always having looked up to pirates and their lifestyles, he wanted no less but the same life for himself. Full of wealth, riches, and respect from others.

But oh how his imagination had led him astray...

Years pass by, and the weight of life's horrors weigh heavy against Drago's shoulders. He would have never expected to see some of the gruesome scenes that he had bared witness to, played out before him. The echos of screams plagued his mind, and the smells of burning buildings and flesh charred his senses.

But, 'Yo-ho Yo-ho a pirates life for me' was the motto, wasn't it? And he intended to live by it because, as they say, 'A merry life and a short one.'

Though the screams of the innocent terrorized his dreams most nights, it wouldn't take long before he grew to enjoy the sounds of others' sorrow and fear. Grew to enjoy watching as fear etched onto their faces as their ships and villages burned by his greedy hands as he looted all their valuables, treasures, weapons, even the children and women which he'd throw into the trades.

It didn't take long before greed had completely devoured Drago. His lust for all the treasures the world seemed to have to offer grew by each ticking second. He'd gone mad with power, fueled by a firey rage and insatiable desire for more.

More, more, more.

Those were the only words that consumed his thoughts as he pillaged village after village. Burn the wreckage of every ship that crossed his path.

It only took a handful of years for Drago to lose himself within the depths of darkness. Growing to a power so high, not a soul dared to cross him. His name floated through the lands like a disease, instilling fear into each heart it passed.

Now, no longer know as just Dragon Elf-blood. But that of, the scourge of the west seas.

The name was fitting as the pirate grew even more bitter and foul over the years. A scowl never leaving his scaled face. Anyone who'd dare to speak to him would be met with wrath and vulgar terms as he'd spit on their existence.

He'd never settle until he found the ancient sphere he'd been searching years for. It had become the sole purpose of his existence, and he'd watch as the whole world burned around him if that meant he could have the orb of dragonkind within his grasps.

[igniacinematic]

Mr Balloonhead Man

Art Department

I was very excited to be offered an art department role on Mr Balloonhead Man, as I thought this would be a tricky but rewarding project to be apart of. I had never done anything like this before, and the challenge of putting together the puppet-like costume was a task I took head on.

Lili (HOD production design) and I had many many ideas and tests for how Mr Ballonhead Man was going to work. We bounced around plans to make it a Talking Heads-esque suit or something with american football shoulder pads, anything with a wide base so we could balance the balloon on top of a rig of some kind. There was a lot of concern about how the balloon would stay attached and upright, so we had to think of a working system of attachment for the rig that would be safe for the actor. It was a system of trail and error, but we had so much fun trying to figure it out!

In terms of the set, I helped Lili plan out the apartment and what kind of props we wanted to be there. The idea was to have all sharp corners covered in padding, as Mr Balloonhead is deathly afraid of falling and popping, so we ordered a bunch of washing up sponges online to line any dangerous angles. We also discussed the sorts of objects he would own in his apartment to show off his personality, like adventure books and maps to show he dreams of travel and excitement or lots of family photos to show he reminisces on the safety of his past. It was a challenge, but a lot of fun trying to navigate Mr Ballonhead’s personality and how we wanted to show it in the setting.

Linked is the pintrest board me and Lili shared for set inspiration:

Pictured here is my initial planning document after our first group meeting:

The colour of balloon and the costume was figured out not long after our first plans. We figured a blue balloon would work best (both because of the colour connotations with blue and because it was the the writers original vision) and that the costume had to somehow hide the face of the person as well as the entire constriction. The suit idea was (unfortunately) not viable and we instead went for a long trench coat that could cover the actor entirely and a thick scarf to comfortably sit over their face during filming.

Below is a quick concept art sketch I drew for our costume meetings!

Timeline of planning, with pictures

Our first attempt - using our producer Saskia as a stand in, we began with the basics to try and craft a clear vision. This costume consisted of single coat hanger that the balloon was attached to balanced on Saskia’s head. It was not very comfortable for her, so we needed to think of ways to pad the head area for extended use

A couple of meetings later, with our first breakthrough of attaching multiple hangers together and sticking them to a helmet. This gave a solid structure a big coat could rest upon, giving the illusion of shoulders, and fixes the padding problem to make the whole rig a lot more comfortable on the actors head

Our first attempt with the actual actor, Lev, with the finished rig. We wanted to test how secure the costume would be when actually worn by the intended person, and to see which adjustments could be made. We also bought along various potential wardrobe pieces, but we learnt we needed something a lot bigger and a lot lighter that Lev could comfortably act in. As Lev’s arms had to go through the sleeves of the jacket (which were held up by the hangers sitting on their head) we needed something large with a bit of give, otherwise their arms were just stuck stiffly above them.

Lili and I go shopping for the perfect coat, which we found in a charity shop. It was huge and made of thin, light and breathable material. Perfect for Mr Balloonhead! We also found the perfect scarf that was wide enough to cover Lev’s face.

Dress rehearsals with the actor before the shooting took place. We had the whole outfit together at this point and just wanted to see if there were any last minute changes to be made to make Lev’s job easier.

Shoot days

Most of my time on set was spent making sure Lev was comfortable and checking for continuity errors. I was on everyday of the shoot, so by the end I had a very clear image of what the costume should look like, how the material hangs, how long Lev could be in the rig ETC. It was very important to stay on top of costume continuity for this shoot, as Mr Balloonhead Man is so prominent in every scene that any outfit changes would be very noticeable. As much of the film took place outside I didn’t have to worry much about any prop continuity, but I kept my eye on them all anyway - especially for the hardware store were we had to change stands around to fit cameras in small spaces! I took Lev out of the costume between every scene change, and sometimes between takes as it could be quite taxing on their neck. My number one priority was their well-being, so I became an expect at undoing the rig at lightning speed and then putting it all back on again.

I cant talk highly enough about my time on set. It was such a great atmosphere and I had loads of fun crafting the costume, as stressful as it was at first to try and figure out the rigging from scratch! I would love to try and make even more complicated characters in the future, and I think this film really have me a want to get stuck into much more creative and out there concepts.

[lunerenzo]

more prison gf! Ymir hcs ♡

♱ Content. drugs, swearing, fluff , NSFW , not proofread, pls let me know if i missed anything :)

♱ Notes. I see yall love her just as much as me 😋. These are just hcs of her when shes out of jail.

♱ Word count. 848

Pt. 1

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

lower case intentional, Enjoy!

prison gf! ymir…who knows how to do your everyday make up and for some reason it always looks better even though she does the exact same steps as you. as well as the more extravagant ones, like the type of make up naezrah does, it always looks amazing cause she has such a steady hand. there is only one rule when she does your make it’s that you HAVE to be straddling her waist when she does it.

prison gf! ymir…who knows all your orders by heart (even your long ass starbucks order) and will order for you so that you don’t have to.

prison gf! ymir…who will side eye you and will order for you anyways if you say “oh im not hungry” while ordering take-out.

prison gf! ymir…who will smack tf out of your hand if you try taking her food with out asking first. somehow you still end up with half of it and she has a small scowl on her face but she still loves you.

prison gf! ymir… who REFUSES to let you smoke her product or get involved in her business no matter how many times you beg and plead.

prison gf! ymir…whos had a polaroid of you in her phone case.

prison gf! ymir…who makes fun of you for eating mint chocolate or cookie n’ cream (whichever you prefer) as if she dosen’t eat pistachio.

prison gf! ymir…who will knock your ice cream on the floor if you make fun of her for it. (don't worry she’ll buy you another.)

prison gf! ymir…who owns two cats with you and if your petting her cat ( you have a “child” and the other is hers) she will grab him and say “leave my son alone”.

prison gf! ymir… who knew you in hs and you were one of her dalma’s when she had her quince. You picked the dresses and if any one complains she would give them the nastiest stank eye.

prison gf! ymir…who was all giddy when she found out her contact name was “pretty girl🩷” with the contact photo of her in her quince dress.

prison gf! ymir…who has a pintrest board for you guys future wedding and has it privited so you don’t know.

prison gf! ymir…who follows you on pintrest and buys you stuff based off what you pin.

prison gf! ymir…who wears this cologne that makes you weak in the knees. before you guys moved in she would spray extra on so that your apartment still smelt like her after she left.

prison gf! ymir…who if she feels like it or is around when you get your nails done will get a matching set with you.

prison gf! ymir…who loves going to the beach with you.

prison gf! ymir…who will carry everything from the car with the maddest look on her face but you better not help cause she will tell you to “push off”. like damn my bad.

prison gf! ymir…who will be sitting there looking like a fucking guard dog if your tanning. let a volleyball accidentally lands near you. she ready to catch another felony.

prison gf! ymir…who will give the ball back, buck at ‘em, and will call them a “pussy” if they flinch.

prison gf! ymir…who is big australia hater

prison gf! ymir...who instigate fights at the waffle house.

prison gf! ymir…who is a big cory and berlezzy fan. like she ALWAYS quoting berlin.

prison gf! ymir…who, if your an artist, keeps every drawing that youve made of her. 

prison gf! ymir…who will be all over you if you wear a skin revealing/ clinging outfit. no matter if you rarely wear stuff like that or most of the time. this is the main reason why you guys are late to parties sometimes. homegirl is struggling with her self control. most of the time she does a good job others? *evil laughter*.  

prison gf! ymir…who loves spoiling you and got you a custom necklace that says your name and a pandora bracelet for your birthday. then got you a chrome hearts necklace for valentines day.

prison gf! ymir…who picks up everything you put down in the store and doesn't care about the price. if you worried about spending her money she’ll tell you it’s fine cause “your worth going broke for ma” with a kiss to seal the deal

prison gf! ymir…who will buy you anything the moment your eyes start tearing up and that little pout comes out. Then she will kiss that little pout away no matter how many it takes.

prison gf! ymir…who buys a strap in your favourtie color.

prison gf! ymir…who would apologize if you tell her its to much and then immediately slams her hips afterwards. 

prison gf! ymir…who would kiss your tears away and say “aww don’t cry”.

prison gf! ymir…who whines and bucks her hips like a bitch in heat when you give her head.

prison gf! ymir…who grips your hair so hard she damn near rips it out. If you have a wig on don’t worry she’ll pay to get it reinstalled but damnit you just put it in. now you hairstylist is cussing you out.

prison gf! ymir...who is absolutely inlove with you.

♱ A/N. My favorite jailbird ❤️. Also THANK YOU @hotxcheeto FOR HELPING ME WITH SOME OF THESE. MWAH.

© 2023 lunerenzo, please don’t plagiarize work or translate work.

[life-caretaker]

Hiii, just wanted to ask, did you find the TBP fic you were searching for??? I'm desperate 😭

No unfortunately I haven't :( sorry.

I don't remember much else about the fic. I remember the Spotify Playlist vividly and that I didn't save it to my Playlist. I don't remember why.

I think the Spotify Playlists thumbnail(?) Was a blurry photo like the kind you would find when searching up grudge on Pintrest.

I'll try to see if I can find the image.

That's about all I have for the Playlist. And it sucks I didn't download the fic. I think part of the reason I didn't download it was that it was unfinished. Probably around 15-16 chapters if I had a gues.

I remember the first person Robin (who replaced Jennifer) killed was Finney's father. He was at the fridge when Finney found him. And then his father must have woken up and Robin ate him.

I think Robin killed one of Finney's bullies next or something because then Finney was like 'No more killing' which caused him to get very weak.

And Robin was like bringing Finney blood to feed them both has human food didn't provide enough energy.

Thats about all I got ill keep trying to wrack my brain to try and jog peoples memories otherwise I might have to go over to Redit or some shit to see if I can scrounge anything up.

The best I have right now is this lead:

And I agree I really hope if it was deleted that some one has it down loaded.

How ever I also hope that if the author deleted it for a good reason that it continues to go un found as I want to respect the authors wishes.

[moralesispunk]

Better Than the Art

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Summary: as you guided a school trip around the museum you were joined by a handsome stranger who just so happened to be an FBI agent working in art crime.

I was inspired for this when I found the photo below on Pintrest!

Thursdays are your favourite day to work at the museum and that is because on Thursdays the museum is open for school trips. 

It was a routine you had grown to love. You start your day walking a group of tiny humans around the exhibits from Renaissance to Baroque to Neoclassicism to Romanticism, winning them over just before moving them to the canteen. After lunch you let them run free around everything from surrealism to pop art, watching their faces react to the strange and wonderful works of art that line the room. By the end of the day they are lying on their stomachs in a room full of classics, legs kicking in the air while they draw their own piece of art to stick to the wall on the way out. As their teacher walks them towards their bus a little more interested in art than they had been before they walked in they yell a chorus of thank you and you get to pay attention to their small works of art in more detail. There are drawings of them and their friends, or their dog, or the occasional attempt at a recreation of one of the paintings they saw during their tour. It is a wonderful day, listening to them talk about the art in the most simple way rather than give a twenty minute, or pretentious, response to “how does this art make you feel”.

They say exactly how it makes them feel; happy, sad, excited, bored. It is refreshing to listen to what they have to say about the art that you get to look at every day.  

As you walked around with the group of 10-year olds today you noticed they were a lot quieter than your usual groups. You had spent most of your morning hearing your own voice and for once you were excited that lunch was coming up after this next room. You stopped at the first painting in the room and turned to the circle that had formed around you.

"How does this painting make you feel?"

The question echoed around the hall for a moment before a voice that was far too deep for a ten year old came from your side.

“Happy.”

You turned to the man, dressed in suit trousers and a shirt with a suit jacket folded across his arms. You were taken aback by how handsome this man was; his hair slightly messy and a few crinkles by his eyes from the small smile on his face.

“Look at the way their smiles are painted,” he stepped closer towards you so he was now in line with the group of children in front of you, “the way she paints a smile is just so... real. I feel as though I’m right there, dancing with all those people. I can feel their happiness.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that was now covering your face at how enthusiastically this man spoke about the art on the wall or the warmth that was now creeping up your cheeks at how his eyes never once landed on the actual painting but stayed locked on you. 

“I agree,” you sighed contently, a moment passing where you almost forgot that you were in the middle of a busy museum guiding a school trip rather than standing alone with this stranger. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself and turning back to the children, “does anyone agree with Mr...”

“Pike. But please, Marcus.”

“Marcus,” you smiled at the man, “does anyone agree with Marcus.”

A sea of hands flew up as the quiet group finally began to speak about how they liked that the people were dancing in bare feet or that they could see them singing along to the band painted in the background. As the chatter continued you mouthed a thank you to Marcus and he shook his head with a smile.

“Let’s move on then,” you called out, stepping round the group to lead them to the next painting.

“Mind if I tag along, get the free guided tour?” Marcus walked next to you.

“Not at all,” you smiled back.

You guided the tour around the rest of the room, the children now more involved than they had been before Marcus joined you and were talking about their favourite parts of the art you were showing them. Marcus stood a few paces behind, listening carefully to your description for each painting or sculpture, biting back a smile when you got really excited as you spoke about your favourite part of the painting and your voice got that little bit louder while you spoke a little faster. 

At the end of the hall you walked into the canteen and the children’s teacher sat them all down at one of the tables, pulling out their lunchboxes as the loud chatter began.

“I’ll come back and collect you all in forty-five minutes?” you said to the teacher and she nodded before you turned back to Marcus.

He had waited for you at the edge of the room, half reading one of the information plaques next to a painting as he watched you walk towards him. You never were usually this forward with someone but he was handsome and you were intrigued.

“I know this might be a strange request but do you want to get lunch with me?” you asked when you finally reached him, clasping your hands in front of you to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I would love to,” Marcus held his hand out towards the exit, “lead the way.”  

There was a cafe next to the museum that you liked to frequent on your lunch breaks and you decided to take Marcus there, telling him that they sold the best sandwiches you had ever had on the walk over.

“Its the ratio!” you laughed when Marcus asked how the sandwich could be that good, “the bread to sauce to contents, its a perfect balance.”

Marcus threw this head back in a laugh before speeding up to reach for the door before you could. When you stepped inside you were glad that it was quieter than usual today, leading Marcus towards a table in the corner beside the window. A waitress you recognised walked over towards the table and you ordered two sandwiches before she headed into the back.

“I hope you like the sandwich after I hyped it up so much,” you laughed.

“You seem like you have good taste so I trust you,” he flashed you a smile and you could feel your cheeks warm before you cleared your throat.

“So, are you from around here?”

Marcus shook his head, taking a drink of the coffee that had been placed in front of him.

“I moved from Dallas a couple of months ago but things had been so hectic with work that this is the first chance I have got to check out the sights, the museums.”

You hummed, letting the cup of coffee warm your hands before taking a sip.

“What kind of work do you do?”

“FBI. Art crimes,” he replied plainly.

“Oh, wow,” you laughed, “well Agent Pike, busy with all the undercover work since you arrived then?”

“Yes actually,” your eyes went wide in time for the sandwiches being placed in front of you and Marcus laughed, “it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

“I doubt that. Anyway, Bon Appétit.”

The both of you went quiet as you bit into the sandwiches, Marcus letting out a groan that almost made your cheeks flush before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This is... the best sandwich I’ve ever had. You sure didn’t lie about that.”

“Told you!”

“You’ve got a little,” Marcus waved towards the side of your mouth before lifting his thumb to the side of your mouth and swiping some sauce away, “got it.”

“Oh, thank you,” you dipped your head down to hide your blush, hearing Marcus chuckle a little as you did so.

Lunch went by quickly, the conversation never stopping between you both as you told him why you moved to DC and more about your friends and family. He told you about his move here, slightly divulging into a failed engagement that made the smile fall from his face and so you quickly changed the subject. 

Laughing at something he said your eyes caught the clock on the wall.

“Oh shoot, I need to head back,” you pulled your purse from your bag and Marcus leaned across the table to stop you with a palm on top of your hand.

“Please, let me,” he pulled out his wallet to leave some money for the check and a tip.

“Marcus, I-”

“No buts, my treat,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Marcus. How about I let you join in for the second half of the tour then, if you’re not busy?”

“I’d love that.”

By the time you and Marcus reached the canteen the children were all ready to go and so you took off in the direction of this afternoons exhibits. The children were a lot more enthused with this art; the bright colours and wacky subject matter setting a chatter among them that didn’t stop until the end of the day.

Every so often you would look up to Marcus who was focused on what you were saying and he would flash you a smile. There wasn’t a time that when he smiled that gorgeous smile you didn’t lose track of what you were saying and had to shake yourself to get back to the tour.

When you reached the final room, filled with the most famous pieces of art that the museum held, you gathered the children in the middle of the room. 

“Now, I want to see your art,” you pulled out the paper and pencils, handing them to each child sitting on the ground, “you can draw yourself or you friends, or a landscape piece...”

You headed towards Marcus who was now sitting on a bench a bit further back from the group.

“Can maybe even attempt drawing a piece of the art,” you handed a piece of paper to Marcus as well and gave him a wink before turning back to the children, “whatever you want.”

You let them draw for fifteen minutes, walking around quietly as you watched their art come to life. Every so often you would glance over to Marcus who was now sitting with one leg over the other as he leaned on one of the gift shop tour guides. His face was set in stone, his tongue peeking out slightly whenever he sat back to look at what he was drawing before leaning back down to finish it.

“Alright, I think everyone is about done. On the way out there is a wall of art and I want you to stick yours up there so add your name at the bottom.”

When the group of children were finally herded together by their teacher, their art pinned on the wall and a cheer of small thank yous shouted in your direction, you finally turned back to Marcus.

“I drew something better than the art,” he handed you a piece of paper.

When you looked down at the paper there was a shaded in drawing of yourself. It was... beautiful. You smiled down at the paper, your finger tracing over it for a moment.

“Today was the best day I’ve had since... since I can remember and I would love to get to know you more,” Marcus’s voice brought your attention back up to him.

“Marcus, this is- I- thank you,” you finally managed, holding the paper to your chest, “I would love to see you again.”

“I don’t really know the area that well but theres a nice Italian near my place if you like that sort of food?”

“Sounds perfect,” you nodded, turning around and grabbing a spare bit of paper to scribble down your phone number, “call me?”

Marcus nodded, folding the note and placing it in his trouser pocket. You decided to lean into the new-found courage you had gathered today, leaning forward while balancing yourself on Marcus’s arm and placing a kiss to his cheek.

“See you soon, Marcus.”

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa​ @queridopascal

[hockeyisit]

Mother’s Day

Summary: Amelia celebrates her first mothers day as a mother!

A.N. Happy mothers day to all the amazing mothers out there! I love my mama so much and I will forever be grateful to her. Hope you guys all enjoy this!

Word Count: 4,441

Masterlist

I rolled over as I tried to make myself more comfortable, I blindly reached out for Auston only to pout when I found his side of the bed empty. I huffed as I rolled onto my back looking at the ceiling. It was mothers day, my first as a mother seeing as the twins were born just a few weeks ago. I was hoping that when I woke up Auston would still be in bed with me but sadly he seemed to have disappeared.

I heard some loud commotion coming from downstairs before silence. I reached out to check my phone for the time and any messages. 9:45. I clicked my phone open so I could read the messages I had, two from Auston and one from Steph.

Steph:

Happy Mothers Day <3

AM💕

Stay in bed if you wake up.

I responded to Steph first and then drafted up a message to Auston.

am💛

Where are my babies?

AM💕

With me I’ll bring them up.

Not even three minutes later Auston was walking into the room holding Kai and a tray of food, Ema following in behind with Noah. I grinned as I took in the sight before me.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do all of this,” I mumbled happily as I reached out for the Turkey bacon that was just set in front of me.

“Oh shush happy mothers day,” Ema said as she handed Noah to me. I smiled as I took my son from her.

“Happy mothers day to you too,” I responded without looking away from Noah.

“Auston did all the cooking anyway I just supervised,” she reassured me as she pat Auston on the back. He nodded as he looked down at me with a happy smile.

“Well thank you. Did you want any Ema?” I asked pointing down to my food. She gave me a fond look as she shook her head.

“I already ate. I am going to get ready for the day. Bre and Alex should be done with the shower now. I gave her a soft smile before she made her way out of the room. Auston and I had invited his whole family to spend some time with us for mothers day. Ema had been here since the birth of the babies and had been the biggest help we could have asked for.

“You have her present ready right?” I asked Auston as I turned to face where he had sat himself on the bed next to me. He leaned over and grabbed the envelope from his bedside table.

“Yep spa for two ready to go,” he grinned as he shook it. We had decided to get her and Brian tickets for a spa day and then we had booked her favorite restaurant in Toronto for dinner.

“Okay good,” I leaned into his side and rested my head on his shoulder.

“Happy mothers day baby,” Auston whispered as he angled his face to me and placed a kiss on my forehead. I smiled as I looked down at our two beautiful babies in our arms.

“I can’t believe I’m really a mom,” I mumbled into the silence. Auston threw his arm around me and pulled me in closer.

“You better believe it because they are here,” he teased as he reached out to tickle Noah’s foot. He gave a little kick at Auston’s hand causing me to let out a laugh. I reached forward to take a bite of the toast on the plate.

“Mmm this is so good,” I moaned as I ate the toast. Auston sent me a look as he glanced between the babies and then me.

“Good. What did you want to do today?” he asked finally as he reached forward to have some bacon. I chewed my food slowly as I thought about it.

“I want to get a tattoo,” I said causing Auston’s eyebrow to raise in what I could only assume was surprise.

“Really?” he asked, disbelief seeping into his voice.

“Yeah what? Why are you acting like that?” I asked starting to feel slightly insecure. Auston noticed my voice change and his features immediately softened.

“No babe it’s okay I was just surprised you've never wanted to get a tattoo before,” he told me as he ran his hand up and down my arm in a soothing matter. He was right, Auston had tattoos all over himself but I had never been really into the idea of getting tattoos myself.

“I know but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and this is something I want to do,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“What did you want to get done?” he asked gently. I reached over for my phone and pulled up pintrest to show him some ideas I had found.

“This one is my favorite. I would just get the time that the twins were born,” I mumbled as I pulled up a picture that showed two different times in military time. He took the phone from me and took a closer look.

“That's nice, do you know where you would want to get it?” he questioned as he handed me my phone back. I scrolled to the other one I liked of two baby elephants holding trunks with names under it.

“I also like this one. I just don’t know if I want to have an elephant on me,” I showed him the photo. He nodded in approval.

“I was thinking on my arm like maybe my wrist or ankle,” I told him as I pointed to my wrist. He reached out for my hand and ran his finger over my wrist gently.

“I like elephants,” Auston mumbled as he stared down at our hands. I grinned leaning up to face him.

“I know,” I leaned forward to connect our lips in a kiss.

“I can get Bre and Alex to watch the boys so we can go today,” he whispered when he pulled away. I gave him a wide grin as I nodded my head.

----

“Am I a bad mom for leaving the twins on mothers day?” I asked Auston as I sat in the chair in the tattoo parlor. Auston gave me a strange look as he pushed himself up from his chair and over to me.

“Babe what?” he asked, reaching out to grab my left hand. Our wedding rings shining next to each other.

“I’ve never been away from them,” I told him feeling slightly panicked. At first when Auston and I had left for the tattoo shop I was really excited to get away and do this one thing for myself but then when he started driving away I realized that it was the first time I was going to not be with the twins. It seemed silly to think but because Auston had to leave for road trips I was with the kids 24/7 Ema had obviously helped but she had never taken the kids out without me. Auston gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as he knelt down next to me.  

“Shh, it’s okay.”

“What if they get hungry or need me or what if they get hurt?” I choked out as I moved to the end of the seat. I was about to push myself up but Auston put his hands on each of my shoulders holding me in place.

“Amelia,” he said sternly, causing me to look at him through my panic.

“The boys are going to be just fine. Alex and Bre are with them and Alex literally helped raise me and Bre so we know she’s at least good with kids. They aren't going to get hurt and if they get hungry you already put milk in the fridge. You're not a bad mother for needing to take a moment for yourself,” Auston reassured me as he moved his finger in a comforting matter over my collarbone. I let out a shaky breath as I leaned back into the chair.

“Hello,” the tattoo artist said as he walked into the room. He was covered from head to toe in tattoos.

“Mike,” Auston grinned as he made his way around the chair to give him a fist bump.

“Ah Tony here for another tat?” he asked as as he pulled away from the bro hug.

“Nah not today. Were here for my girl,” he pointed to me on the chair. I gave Mike a small shy wave. He made his way over to the stool and took a seat.

“Sweet. I’m Mike,” he held his hand out for me to shake. I reached out and smiled.

“Amelia.”

“What kind of tattoo were you thinking about getting?” he asked as he looked over his tattoo instruments.

“Um I have a picture,” I pulled my phone out and handed it to him when I had the picture of the times pulled up.

“Just something super simple with this font in military time,” I told him as I tapped my fingers on my leg. Mike nodded as he looked over the picture.

“Is this the time that you want or?” He asked as he set my phone down next to a piece of paper.

“Oh no um for one can it be 19:45 and the other 20:04,” he nodded his head as he began the sketch.

“Um and can you also add a third one,” I nervously glanced to Auston who had a confused look on his face.

“Can you make it say 09:35,” I said quietly. Mike nodded as he added that number to the list.

“Where do you want them?” he glanced up from the sketch.

“My wrist,” I told him as I showed him where I Wanted it to be put.

“What do they mean? If you don’t mind me asking,” Mike asked as he handed the sketch over to me to look at. I bit my lip as my eyes drifted to Auston.

“The time our twins were born, 19:45 and 20:04,” I told him as I smiled down at the sketch.

“And the first time I met Auston. Our flight took off at 9:35,” I blushed as I stared into his eyes. His smile broke for a second as he was hit with a strong wave of emotions. Mike smiled as he reached around to grab the tools he needed.

“Happy Mothers Day. Have you ever gotten a tattoo?” Mike asked as he moved closer to me so he could start. I shook my head no as I reached out for Auston’s hand.

“It’s going to hurt babe,” Auston warned me. I let out a shaky sigh as I nodded my head. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” Mike questioned. I nodded my head yes as I kept my eyes squeezed tightly. I held my breath as I waited for the needle to make contact with my skin. When it finally did my face scrunched up at the pain while my hand tightened on Auston’s hand. After a few moments Auston spoke up.

“You alright?” he asked. I peeked my eyes open slowly blinking to try to rid the tears that I had gotten triggered when the needle made contact with my hair.

“Yeah,” I choked out after a minute. Auston and Mike started talking as he continued to tattoo my skin.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” I mumbled after a moment. Mike immediately stopped what he was doing and looked over to me while Auston turned to face me.

“Do you need anything?” Mike asked as he stood up. He grabbed a water bottle and brought it over to me. I thanked him as I took the water bottle and took a sip. After five minutes of sitting there I turned my attention back to Mike.

“You can go again,” I told him, he went right back to what he was doing.

“Have you ever passed out before?” I asked Auston, trying to distract myself from the pain.

“Once, when I got the lion done. It took them so long to do it and I was dehydrated towards the end of the day,” he answered reaching out so he could rest his hand on my stomach.

“Is it almost done?” I asked Auston too afraid to look at the progress. Auston glanced down at my tattoo before taking a look at my wrist.

“Yeah babe you're doing great,” Auston grinned as he turned back to look at my face.

“He’s just finishing the last time,” he mumbled leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my cheek. After another few moments of pain it stopped. I glanced away from Auston to my wrist.

“Wow,” I sighed. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the three tattoos I now had permanently on my body.

“Their perfect,” I whispered. Auston grinned as he reached down to rub my arm above the tattoo.

“So perfect,” Auston laughed.

----

“I want to make an insta post today,” Auston told me as he pulled into the garage. We had picked up Chipotle for us and Alex and Bre after the tattoo shop. I glanced up from where I was scrolling on my phone to give him a surprised look. He didn’t normally inform me when he was going to post on Instagram.

“Uh okay?”

“I wanted to post a photo of the boys and you,” he clarified as he turned the car off. Auston and I had decided not to post a photo of the boys yet just because we didn’t want to hear all the comments.

“Okay well what were you thinking?” I hopped out of the car and made my way to the door, Auston following behind me.

“I have this really cool artsy photo I took of the twins holding hands the other day. I want to post that and a photo of when you were pregnant,” he stepped in front of me to open the door. I walked in and thought about it as I slipped my shoes off.

Auston slipped his shoes off and then pulled his phone out to pull up the two photos he wanted to post. I looked them over before shrugging my shoulders.

“I don’t mind if you post them,” I leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek before making my way into our living room where Alex and Bre are with the twins. I smiled at them as I walked further into the room.

“How were they?” Startled Alex looks up from Noah in her arms.

“Oh I didn’t hear that you guys were back, how was it?” she asked. I walked over to the couch as Auston disappeared into the kitchen, probably to let Felix out into the yard.

“It was good. It hurt a lot but I love it,” I held my wrist out so the two could see.

“I thought you were only getting two times?” Bre asked as she looked it over. I blushed lightly.

“Uh I got three, the twins time and um the time I met Auston,” I trailed off. Both girls' eyes widened as they took in my words.

“That's so cute,” Alex teased. I let out a surprised laugh as I smiled.

“Thank you.”

Just as I sat on the couch Kai let out a loud cry from Bre’s arms. She tried to adjust his position but his cries only grew louder.

“I think he wants you,” she mumbled over his cries pushing herself up from the couch and making her way over to me.

“Hi baby,” I cooed as I settled Kai into my arms. He let out another loud cry. I shook him as I tried to get him to calm down.

“What is it baby? Hmm. Are you hungry?” I glanced up to see Alex Bre and Auston staring at me with a look of what could only be described as fondness. I knew that he was hungry but I wasn't sure how comfortable I was to breastfeed in front of Auston and his two sisters.

“I think he’s hungry. I’m going to take him upstairs and feed him,” I stood up and made my way over to the stairs.

“Auston,” I paused, turning to face him. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“When Noah wakes up will you bring him up to eat?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. I turned back to the stairs and went up to the nursery. I pushed the door open and settled in the comfortable chair that we had bought for the nursery and I pulled my shirt off so Kai could start feeding. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders so my whole body wasn't on display.

I couldn't believe it was my first mothers day. I had always dreamed about celebrating mothers day with my own children when I was a kid. When my own mother passed away I had slowly started to hate the holiday. It had been years since I had even acknowledged the holiday. Today though had been so special, the breakfast, seeing my children, being with Austons family, and my tattoo. Everything about today was perfect and I just wanted to stay frozen in this moment.

“Hey stranger,” I glanced away from my beautiful Kai to find my beautiful husband standing at the door with my precious Noah.

“Hi handsome,” I sent him a cheeky grin. He laughed lightly as he made his way into the room and cuddled up next to me on the not so big chair. Really this chair was not meant for two people.

“Is he about done?” Auston asked as he wrapped his arm around me. I looked back down at Kai who seemed to be finishing. I nodded as I gently pulled him away.

“Yeah is he hungry?” I asked. Auston nodded his head and we swapped babies so I could start feeding Noah.

“How are you doing babe?” Auston asked gently. Kai started reaching up to play with his mustache. I smiled at the scene before me.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him.

“I know that mothers day isn’t always the easiest for you because of your mom,” Auston spoke softly as he rubbed his hand up and down my arm in a comforting matter.

“I miss her everyday,” I admitted as I stared at Noah.

“I wish that she could have met you and them,” I continued. His hand hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“I wish that I could have met her too,” Auston mumbled as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“Today has been so wonderful though,” I pulled my head away a little so I could have a better look at his face.

“Seriously. You have done everything to make this day wonderful. The breakfast in bed and being there for me when I needed you and the tattoo. The list goes on of how perfect today has been and it’s not even over,” I blushed as he stared at me intensely. He leaned forward and kissed me deeply. I pulled away before it could go further.

“We probably shouldn't make out when our kid is feeding,” I laughed. Auston made a face before laughing along.

“Probably not.”

----

“Amelia,” Ema called as she walked up to the table. We had agreed that all of us kids and the twins would meet Ema and Brian at dinner for the reservation that we had made. It was Ema’s favorite mexican restaurant that Auston and I frequently visited.

“What about us?” Auston asked as he stepped in front of me so that he could pull his mom into a hug. She laughed as she hugged him back before pushing him out of the way.

“Your not a mother,” Ema chided as she reached out to take the seat next to me. Auston and Brian both move to help pull her chair out. Brian gave Auston an approving nod as he let his son take care of it.

“How was your spa?” Alex asked once everyone was sitting again. The twins between Auston and I let out a little sound that could have been leading to a cry if Auston hadn't been so quick to pick up Noah’s binky and place it back in his mouth.

“It was wonderful. Thank you guys for doing that for us,” she smiled at us as she opened the menu. When the server came everyone ordered margaritas except Bre and Auston.

“You don’t want a drink?” I whispered to Auston when I noticed his missing margarita.

“Nah I’m going to drive,” he mumbled back.

“So how was your day?” Ema asked the table. Bre immediately started telling her all the stories of what it was like to babysit Noah and Kai. I listened as the family talked mostly just taking everything in. It always blew my mind how effortlessly Auston’s family loved one another. I had grown up in a home very different from his.

“Isn’t that right Amelia,” Auston laughed causing me to tune in.

“Right,” I smiled, having no idea what they were talking about. The food came quickly and we all dug in.

“So Auston, Amelia. Brian and I have a gift for you,” Ema said as she reached into her purse. She pulled out an envelope.

“What about me,” Bre whined causing us all to laugh.

“Don’t be a brat,” Auston teased his sister fondly.

“Well Auston since you're always doing all of these wonderful things for your father and I and even your sisters we figured we could do something for you guys,” she handed the envelope to me because I was closer. I went to hand it to Auston.

“Open it up for us babe,” Auston said as he pushed it back to me. I ripped the envelope open and pulled out what was inside.

“Two plane tickets to Dubai for fathers day?” I read aloud as I looked them over.

“We would all be coming,” Ema explained.

“We bought enough tickets for all of us and the kids,” Brian told us as he wrapped his arm around the back of Ema’s chair. She nodded as she listened to her husband talk.

“Sweet,” Bre announced as she reached out to bump fist with Auston.  

“We figured it would be a nice way for you two to get some relaxing in during the summer but you also don’t have to leave the kids behind,” Ema continued when neither of us went to say anything. I felt myself getting choked up.

“Oh Ema,” I reached out and rested my hand on her shoulder. This was almost too much for me to process.

“You didn’t need to do this,” I continued when I was able to get my voice under control.

“Oh honey don’t worry about it,” she smiled.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Auston smiled at his mom and dad.

“Auston you do so much for us and I know that a lot has gone on in the past year. We think it would be really good for the family to go away on a trip. But we got you guys your own suite,” Brian told Auston as he handed the server the card. Auston’s frown deepened at that.

“You don't have-” Auston started to say

“Thank you,” I said, cutting off my husband. I could tell that his parents didn’t want to hear it.

“Auston want to see this photo I took of Noah? Or uh it might have been Kai,” Bre said as she pulled her phone out. We all laughed in surprise at the change of topic.

“How can you not tell them apart?” he questioned her as he took the phone to look closer.

“What do you mean! They are identical. Also I don’t see them every single day,” Bre laughed as she pointed out facts causing everyone to laugh except Auston.

“It’s Kai,” he said then turned the phone for me to see. I let out a soft ‘aww.’

“Send that to me,” I told her as Auston handed her phone back.

----

“How’s it going babe?” Auston asked as I finished feeding the twins. I glanced up at him with a tired smile. After dinner we all came back to the house and put on a movie. The twins started fussing towards the end because they were hungry so I had said goodnight to everyone and made my way upstairs.

“Good.”

Auston smiled as he walked in, he pulled his phone out and angled it at me taking a picture.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly as he leaned down to take Noah off my chest. He settled him on his hip as he pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Time for bed buddy,” Auston mumbled as he brought him over to the crib that Kai was already laying in. He reached his hand into the crib and tapped on Kai. I pushed myself up from the chair once I had pulled my shirt on correctly.

“Lets go to bed,” I whispered into his ear as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. Auston turned around in my hold and pulled me into a tight hug. He rocked us back and forth.

“Thank you for being the very best mother,” he whispered. My body filled with warmth as I hugged him closer to me.

“I mean it,” he mumbled. I glanced up at him to press a quick kiss to his lips. He pulled away completely and led me to our room. Once we were inside he shut the door and locked it. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I pulled him into a kiss before he even had a chance to move from the door. Auston pushed me so that I was backed up against the door.

His arms were wrapped around me holding him tight against his body but they slowly slid until his hands were on my waist. He pulled away so that he was leaning his forehead against mine. The two of us were breathing heavily as we stared into each other's eyes.

“I can’t believe I got a tattoo today,” I told him after I caught my breath. He let out a laugh as he leaned forward to kiss me again. He wrapped his arms around my legs and told me to jump. I did as he said and he caught me so that he was holding me up. He walked over to the bed and laid me down on it.

“What do you want tonight baby?” Auston asked as he pushed my shirt up and started placing kisses down my stomach.

“You.”

----

austonmatthews: Thank you to my beautiful wife for bringing these boys into my life. It amazes me every day to see how wonderful you are with them. I know it’s been hard with me away on road trips but you handle everything so well. Happy Mother’s Day Mama love you❤️