Tikin Xic for Two
I finished my fic of Pregnant! Okoye instead of sleeping and I regret nothing!
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Summary: Okoye has been acting strange, and Attuma doesn't know why. Through her sore body, change in mood, and morning sickness, he wants to get back in her good graces while keeping his mind intact.
or,
Attuma and Okoye are big babies when they are not bloody from battle
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Preview:
Attuma was confused. There rarely is a time when the mighty general was not completely certain about the world around him. Even now, he knew one thing without a doubt: something was very, very wrong with Okoye, and he had no idea why.
He started his morning with his head just below the surface, right outside their river-side home. He watched her pace in and out of view from the window. Worry etched on her brow, her bottom lip held hostage by her teeth. He wanted to surface, wanted to pull her lip down with his hand on her chin, and pull sweet notes from her throat with his tongue. But he didn’t.
To say he was scared of Okoye wouldn’t be a lie. In battle, she excited him. A spear in her hand was as natural as the sun in the sky to him. Whether it was matching her blows, or seeing the grit in her eyes as she bested an opponent, he was happy to be there. If she wanted him there. And after last night, he wasn’t too sure.
They had been sitting on the couch. His legs spread open, and her back to his chest. This was how they spent most of their Friday evenings, relaxing in each other’s company, watching whatever was on what Okoye called a TV. Attuma always wanted to touch her. Even if he hand his right hand on her thigh and his left wrapped around her waist, he wished he had more hands just to brush against her skin. She was addicting, and she knew it.
That night, he trailed up her body, starting at her knees, slipping up her hips, slowly, teasingly. Until he landed one hand on her breast, and she shifted between him, smothering his middle with her ass as she let out a harsh groan in her throat. She brushed one hand away from her chest as his other began the journey, finishing its trip with a rough squeeze: an Attuma regular. Only this time, he was meet with hardness in place of her usual softness, and instead of her normal gentle moan, his warrior let out a yelp of pain, jumping from her seat in his lap with hands to her tender breast.
Her gaze was fiery as confusion and regret marred his face. “Why must you always touch me,” she shouted. “That hurt!” She turned towards their bedroom with her titties safely guarded from any wandering hands.
Charging towards her, waiting to apologize, to fix it, he snatches her waist, begging, “Wait-“
“Don’t touch me,” she gritted. His hand retracted like she burned him, but that didn’t stop him from following her to the door, only for it to slam in his face. “Leave me be, Attuma!”
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I reckon we will win in the end of this trans culture war nonsense that republicans are dishing out but hhhh its awful to see discourse as we are having to unify against conservatives trying to crush us completely.
Tooth and nail, each of us together, this is how our forebearers earned our rights, and now we must come to defend them for ourselves as well as future generations.
Stop fighting about labels, let people identify however they want, enemies are abound and we need to be loud, be supportive of one another, and get people to know we are human. Through these actions, We will guarantee our survival.
It won’t be easy, but we’re not going to do it alone y’all <3
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Please imagine Rizzoli boys night (Jane, Frankie&Frost, Tommy) with honorary guest Booth. It’s a Steelers vs Pats night and they’re loud and rowdy. This is where Angela Rizzoli meets Booth and immediately adopts him. Angela R insists if Jane can’t get her act together and remarry Maura, the least she can do is give her poor mother a useful, appreciative son. (She immediately apologizes to Barry, he is the current one and only useful and appreciative Rizzoli son)
Brennan and Maura, meanwhile, are on their way out for an exhibition opening at the MFA of interesting archeological finds. Brennan’s mildly interested in the sports and the regional war proxy being enacted in the Isles living room, but much more interested in lively conversation with Doctor Isles. They leave the house in their fancy dresses, pointedly ignoring the marriage talk going on.
The game is a riot, it’s a close one, they all have fun and the living room is a wreck by the time Brennan and Maura get back. Maura takes one look at Jane and Booth arguing over who looks better with the lampshade on their head, and drags Brennan upstairs by the hand to her bedroom. By the time the bedroom door shuts emphatically (Maura would never slam), the living room is silent. Booth and Jane stare at the stairs as if there’s an answer to what they just saw and then stare at each other.
They scramble to clean the room and then the two of them have a hushed, urgent videocall with Angela Montenegro back in DC, desperate to figure out if their respective ex-wife and not-girlfriend are currently hooking up as they speak.
When Maura finally turns around, Brennan asks her, "what is so urgent? And private?"
"It's all a ruse," Maura tells her, only a little guilty that she's dragged Brennan into her divorce shenanigans because mostly she's exhilarated, giddy like a school girl with the prospect of both ribbing Jane and having new friends. "They look way too comfortable in my living room. So, I thought I'd make them uncomfortable by bringing you to my bedroom."
Brennan gets that toothy, crooked, I-am-beginning-to-understand-the-humor-of-this-situation smirk. "Oh..." she draws it out, "so that they think we're having intercourse."
Maura winks, purses her lips. "Exactly."
Brennan laughs, then blinks. "Are... are you insinuating that we should have intercourse?"
Maura gifts her a straightforward explanation of the plan, one she'd want if she were in Brennan's shoes. "No. We're going to wait in here long enough to make them sweat, and there we're going to go out there and obtusely answer any desperate questions they come up with."
Brennan quite likes the camaraderie as well.
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