#just need a place to organize my thoughts

[softtdaisy]

soooo thinking about bodyguard Hotch (as always) and inspired by the latest fic, I wondered what other characters think of how close Hotch and reader are getting when he's still "on the case"?

I'm a sucker for outsider perspectives and I'm sooo curious if the BAU gang suspects anything or maybe even the stalker's perspective on Hotch and reader 👀

keep on teasing me / Aaron Hotchner

summary. 5 times someone teased Hotch about the case, the one he did the teasing

words count. 4 593

what to expect. the team is here but nothing except for that

a/n. thank you so much for your request sweetie!! i didn't see the BAU as The BAU in this series i picture them more some kind of agency or i don't know but they're here and it was sooo fun to have them around so hopefully you love this 🤍

bodyguard masterlist | criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

1. the team meeting

“Agent Rossi, but you can call me David. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You watched as David extended his hand, only to take yours and give it a kiss. “Well, the same goes for you, David,” you replied with a soft laugh.

You noticed Hotch rolling his eyes next to you, and you pinched your lips not to laugh even harder. 

After you received yet another letter in your mailbox, the bureau decided to add new cameras and a security system to your apartment. Meaning, you had to leave for the day. Something you weren’t quite sure you understood, but you still agreed to.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice when Hotch was literally pushing you outside this morning.

“It’s a great occasion for you to meet everyone,” he justified in the car while driving you to his office for the very first time. 

You didn’t realize you had never seen where he was supposed to be working until today. How funny he knew every single centimeter of your place, and yet you didn’t even know what type of wood his desk was made of. Or if he had pictures on it. Pictures of whom? That was another question. 

But he was right. You got to meet everyone. Seeing the real Derek, Emily, and Spencer you’ve seen on screen during the weekly meeting. Getting to meet the bubbly Penelope that was sending mail written in pink to organize every event you had to go to. You already knew Jennifer, the one who stayed with you when you had to get ready for a special occasion—after Hotch did once and left the room with cheeks redder than your lipstick.

“Maybe one of you can finally answer my question,” you said, your arms crossed on your chest once you were all in the meeting room. All their eyes landed on you, curious to see what could be on your mind. They were hiding many things from you—you didn’t need to know about the wannabe stalkers and those that defended you. 

You put your hands on the desk in a very professional way, bending over. Just enough for Hotch’s eyes to fall on your back and your ass for a second. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by David.

“Why can’t I be here while you put cameras all over my place?”

“Because” Spencer started in a low and calm voice that he could say anything, you would believe him. “It’s safer that you don’t know about all of them in case something happens. We know that people tend to look at things that could put them in danger when they feel threatened. And if your stalker comes into your place…”

“Which he won’t.” Hotch interrupted him.

“Well, yes, but in case he does, you won’t be looking at the cameras because you won’t know where they are, and there is a smaller chance that he will notice them.”

You nodded; his explanation was fair, and your first thought was right: you tend to believe everything this man said. “But if I walk around naked, that means you will all see me?” 

Sure, they laughed. You did too. It was a genuine question, but the situation was rather funny considering your case. Even Hotch let out a laugh, but mostly to hide his embarrassment at the idea. 

Nobody answered your question in the end, and the discussion went to other subjects: the following weeks, the events, the organization… always the same movie playing on repeat in the end.

After the meeting, the girls offered to get you a coffee, and you gladly accepted their offer to change your mind. And discover the office. “And I’ll show you Hotch’s desk!” was a very good argument too. 

Did he hear it? Yes. Will he stop you? No. 

He was ready to accept your teasing about his bland and boring office if it made you happy.

Instead, he stayed in the meeting room to organize the latest proofs and stuff they collected. 

“She has a point,” he heard in his back.

When he turned around, he wasn’t surprised to see David leaning against the door. 

“What if she walks around naked and doesn’t know where the cameras are?” he added with a cheeky smile. Because that wasn’t his main concern. That wasn’t what he really meant. “But now that I think about it, you’re always around, so if she walks around naked…”

“Stop it,” he groaned, turning his back to him again. If he couldn’t see his amused face, he could hear his laugh. And again, the heat grew on his cheeks. It happened already; he almost saw you in your underwear. When you left your room and forgot that your bodyguard was always around.

Or you didn’t forget at all? 

2. the recording studio

“One more take!” 

You happily nodded, putting your headphones back on your ears to get ready to record again. 

This was the first time since your case started and Hotch had been watching over you that you went back to the recording studio. You had been asking multiple times in the past. But until the team couldn’t secure a place, they kept refusing. More than once, Hotch offered that they build their own recording studio at your place. 

“The whole point is that I don't get to work alone, Aaron.” You told him over dinner one night when he put the offer on the table again. “I know what I can do, sure. But I also need some artistic view, and as much as I appreciate you, you’re not an artist.”

And so after meeting the team you were used to working with and talking with your producer a couple of times, Hotch finally agreed to bring you to the studio. On one condition: he was going with you. Something you immediately said yes to because “you’re going to see me in my best element.” 

Derek came with him, mostly to protect you from the fans when you would leave. They were already a lot when you arrived; they can’t imagine the number after the session. And two bodyguards were better than one. 

Meaning, on top of looking after you, Hotch had to look after his own reactions looking at you. Because you were right, you were in your element, and there was something magical in the way you lit up when you sang. You were living for your music. The words you wrote these past weeks were the happiest, which it wasn’t hard to understand why. 

More than once, he got lost in the beauty of the moment. Like there was nobody else in the room except for you and him. Like most of the time you spent together, to be honest. But it was…different. These felt more like a dream than the reality of what you were going through, putting the reason why Hotch was by your side all the time. He wished it would never stop.

When you started another song, this felt like another dream beginning. Another movie to start. The next episode of his favorite show. 

And the truth was, Hotch wasn’t even paying much attention to the words you were singing.

But Derek was.

“They couldn't have me, and they never will. And sometimes I hold you closer just to know you're real.”

“Wait a minute.” Derek whispered. Hotch immediately perceived the amusement and especially the teasing in his voice. “She wrote this song lately?”

Hotch didn’t move, or maybe just a little when he crossed his arms tighter against his chest. But his eyes didn’t leave you. Not for a second. “How am I supposed to know?” he replied in a sharp tone that would indicate he didn't want to talk about it more. 

Yet, he knew Derek Morgan more than anybody on this team. When this man had an idea in his head, there was little to nothing that could be done to change his mind. So he wasn’t surprised to see him make a step closer to the producer to put a hand on his shoulder. Neither was he when he heard him ask what the name of the song was.

“Bodyguard.”

You called that song Bodyguard. As much as he tried to stay focused on you, Hotch noticed from the corner of his eyes Derek turning his head to him and giving him a proud look. “Bodyguard,” he repeated, so low it was almost unhearable.

You sang the whole song, talking about the need to protect each other and being ready to do anything for their safety. And if it was more true on Hotch's side, it was the whole reason he was here in the first place. He could tell that there was some truth for you too. He knew that you had defended him already, for fun, when his teammates showed amusement about the situation and your complicity. For real, when you heard some people from outside questioning him—his ability or even his look.

He never felt unattractive, nor did he think he was the most handsome man in the world. But hearing you say there was no man you would rather have by your side than him built his confidence back. And having you sing it in a song that would probably be on your album was on another level. 

“I think I understand now why you don’t want to get rid of this mission.” Derek finally said when he walked back to Hotch.

Hotch, who rolled his eyes again and sighed, said, “Shut up.”

And Derek laughed again. Except this time, Hotch couldn’t contain his smile when you looked at him after finishing your verse. With a sweet smile, like you were waiting for his approval. Asking if he had understood what you were trying to say.

And his simple nod was the answer you both needed to say he knew. He understood. And he felt the same. 

3. the teasing 

“You know everything will be fine, right?” 

You found it ironic that you were the one reassuring your bodyguard.

You were sitting cross-legged on your sofa, watching as Hotch kept going back and forth between his room and the living room. Clearly more stressed about leaving than you were.

Sure, you did have anxiety about him leaving in the past. And sure, you loved having him around and wished he didn’t have to leave.

But Hotch had to work, and the girls offered to stay for the night. It could have sounded sexist that they were two when usually one man was enough. But JJ was doing the bodyguard job; Penelope was just looking for a good excuse to spend time with you. And a pajama party never hurt anybody.

He gave you a side look after putting his bag down on the floor. “How can you be so sure, exactly?” 

Was he being unfair? Yes, and he knew that. Hotch trusted his team with closed eyes. He never doubted them in any case. And he wasn’t even doubting them now.

But he couldn’t help the feeling that he was the one that could treat you the best. Maybe it was above the case situation. 

“Because the girls will be there, we are just going to talk and eat and drink wine.” You were enumerating each element with your fingers. Before opening your hands to show your outfit. “And I'm wearing my favorite pajamas; nothing can happen to me.”

Hotch rolled his eyes. Because he knew that fucking pajama too damn well. A pastel-colored tank and shorts that were showing too much skin for his own good. You had been wearing it many nights around him already. And his eyes couldn’t help but fall on your naked legs anytime you would sit by his side. And his mind was hoping silently that the fabric would go higher and higher on your thighs. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he mumbled in his breath before walking back to his room. Your feet were so light on the floor that he didn’t hear you either getting up or following him.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you laughed in his back. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t see you lean against the door or cross your arms on your chest, putting the almost see-through fabric against your skin. “Are you running away because of my pajamas?”

You smiled when you heard him laugh. “Yeah, sure, they are my next enemies after your stalker.” 

“Ouch, stalker mentioned before leaving? Not nice, Aaron.” You put a hand on your heart, pretending to be more hurt than you actually were. The reality was there, and you couldn't fight it, so at least you could laugh about it. When he turned his head slightly, just enough to give you a look, you noticed the amused smile on his face from your whole comedy. 

But you weren’t done with him. Not when he had the audacity to leave you for the night. Not when a low, low voice in your head was reminding you that you were scared Hotch could forget about you as soon as he closed the door—something that could never happen if you could actually read his mind.

So you walked to him, slowly. “Actually,” you started, sitting on his bed right in front of him. Perfectly in his sight, with your hands resting behind you, so his eyes would fall on your neckline. “I don’t think my pajamas are your enemies.”

And it did. His eyes fall on you and the trail of skin from your neck to your chest. “Are we seriously having the conversation?” he sighed. 

“I think,” you pursued, making your eyes go down on him very slowly. “That you actually loved them a lot. Maybe they are the reason why you have a hard time leaving tonight.” 

The clench on his jaw. The way he bit his lips. Or the way he turned his head to try to get rid of the thought that appeared—the one where he threw everything away to lay you on this bed and took these pajamas away from you. 

You knew you hit right.

“Hotch?” you heard from the living room.

The girls were there. The game was over, for now.

“We’ll talk about this later.” Hotch finally replied, pointing to you and the room and basically everything that was driving him crazy. He tried to gain composure back, pretending he was mad about your behavior.

But your only answer was a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure we will,” you continued laughing before joining the girls.

Giving Hotch one last look at your ass in these goddamn shorts that would last with him all night. 

4. The Stalker

It started as a beautiful and calm day.

Nothing planned. No meeting. No event. Nothing.

Just you writing a new song and Hotch working in his room. Sometimes you tend to forget these types of days could even exist, but they did. And you loved them.

You were lying on a rug, your legs on your sofa, listening to a melody you had composed a few days ago to find the perfect chorus when you heard Hotch’s door slam suddenly. “That son of a bitch.”

It was in these moments that you realized how much you trusted Hotch with your life. Because you didn’t even flinch a little as it was a sudden and loud reaction caused by God knows what. You simply waited for his figure to appear.

And he did. Oh, you almost forgot he had his glasses on when he was working on his computer. This explained the little smile on your face when you saw him, with faded blue jeans and a dark grey shirt that looked very nice on him.

“Something’s wrong?” you asked, looking at him from above. And he did look a little disappointed by your lack of reaction. But could you blame him? He was mad enough for two.

But instead of speaking, he handed his tablet to you. 

And you saw the reason for his anger—a very justifiable one now that you could see the cause.

A picture of you two in the street from three nights ago when you had a sudden need for Italian food. You had binge-watched a whole cooking competition on TV, and you were craving pure Italian food from the restaurant down the street. The thing was, they didn’t take online orders. Even when you were a famous singer or a convincing bodyguard.

So you and Hotch went there yourself to order too many dishes that you shared the very same night. 

Turns out, your stalker had been waiting for you. And made sure you knew about that.

“Your boyfriend looks pretty, but not as pretty as me, my love.”

Hotch turned his head suddenly. “Are you laughing?” But it was a dumb question. He could perfectly hear your sweet laugh in his ears, even from how far you were from him in this position.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, putting your hands up in the air while getting up. You had a hard time finding your breath again. “I can’t help it.” 

Hotch waited. And waited. Until you finally calmed down. But he was the one to freak out a little. When you landed your eyes on him. And when you put a hand on his arms, patting your fingers on his biceps. “He thinks you’re pretty.” 

That was the point that made you laugh. That he was pretty. And the worst part was that Hotch knew why. You had a whole discussion the other day on the difference between pretty, beautiful, and gorgeous. “You, Aaron Hotchner, are gorgeous,” you said in a very serious tone. 

You tried to explain that he wasn’t cute or pretty, not with his dark figure and the intensity of his look. He could be considered beautiful when he looked softer, like when he was relaxing. But he mostly looked gorgeous. You even said you wanted to put him in a music video because “that would make it work so much better.” 

So you laughed about the pretty part.

Not the boyfriend part.

“You realize how dangerous it is that he saw us?” he finally added, trying to get away with the idea that being called your boyfriend sounded satisfying for the both of you. 

You simply shrugged at his question. “See the positive side of it; at least he won’t approach me when you’re here. And you’re here all the time.” 

And just like that, you made it sound like it was a normal thing for him to be considered your boyfriend by others.

Hotch could clearly get used to it. Or make it real someday.

5. the jealousy

“I don’t like that.” Hotch said in his breath. It could have been missed, almost inaudible.

If Emily and he weren’t in the same room, in total silence.

She turned around, her hand still full of the chips she was eating. “You want me to grab something else?” she asked, her brows furrowed from the confusion. She asked him what he wanted to eat during the tailing tonight. He had a real nerve to complain now.

But Hotch turned around, even more confused than Emily was. “What?” He looked down at the chips bag in her hands and let out an amused sigh—at least he wasn’t too angry to forget how to laugh. “I’m not talking about the chips, Prentiss.”

“Oh,” she replied, taking another handful. “Then what are you talking about,��Hotch?” 

She had to wait again. Because suddenly the idea of saying out loud what had been on his mind all day wasn’t as genius as he thought it was. He was being an idiot, ridiculous, he would even say. That was his job. That was everyone’s job. And he had no right to say it wasn’t a good idea or that he wasn’t happy about “Oh, it’s about Derek taking care of her tonight, right?”

A groan. That was all Hotch could answer at the moment.

And a laugh. That was the only reaction Emily had to the situation.

“Are you jealous?” she finally asked after a moment. And maybe he was quick to reply that he wasn't. Too quick, he didn’t sound sincere at all. “Ok, you’re completely jealous.” 

It was a decision they made all together. Hotch was the very first to agree. After the stalker’s latest letter and the proof he had perceived the chemistry between Hotch and you himself, the team thought it would be safer to ask Derek to bring you to the premiere instead of him.

New face, new man, an easy way to confuse the stalker. And made him believe his threat was working.

Choosing Derek out of anybody was a good strategy. Sure, Spencer was good-looking but not as confident as his colleague. The girls would have been a great support, but they wouldn’t have made him jealous. And David was a great father figure, less of a lover—even if he was still talking about your compliments. 

Hotch had all the proof the team made the right decision when he saw the flash crackle when you walked the red carpet, with Derek following you closely.

The good option, right? Young, good-looking, funny, smiling…

“For what it takes,” Emily started again. And if she hoped he would put his eyes away from the view of you, looking so beautiful with your dark-colored dress and your hair up—in a way he could imagine his fingers brushing your neck—she was wrong. “She’s not with him like she is with you.”

No answer. But a sigh. A very subtle sigh that was a sign of relief. Because Hotch noticed it too, honestly. 

When Derek put his hand on your back, you didn’t take a single step back to cuddle against it—like you did with Hotch.

When Derek told a joke in the car, one they all heard and that made some of the team laugh, you didn’t laugh as hard as you did with Hotch—with your eyes showing your amusement, your head falling back, and a hand hitting his chest.

But mostly, anytime Derek was looking at you—definitely not in the same way Hotch was, but still—you weren't looking at him for as long as you did with him. Because anytime you were looking at Hotch, you were appreciating every single feature in his face like it was the last time.

“Oh boy.” Emily laughed, and this time, Hotch turned his head in disappointment. “You’re so falling for her.”

“Shut up.” Hotch finally replied. He saw the way Emily bit her lips, trying to contain her smile and mostly her laugh from his reaction.

And he was fighting too. Because she was so right. 

+1 

“I refuse!”

Running after Hotch wasn’t too hard in your apartment—it was big but not that big. Yet it felt like this man had a little too much fun making you run in a circle and going room after room without stopping walking. Will he even stop walking one day?

Well, yes, he did. Right in front of you. Meaning you stopped too, but only by hitting his back. “You don’t want me to do my job?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“That’s not what I mean!” You hit his chest—it was an easy target, right in front of you. But Hotch was quick to turn around and grab your wrist before you gave him another punch. Or whatever you were trying to do. 

“Just not with somebody else, hm?” You didn’t reply, but you frowned your brows so hard, in a way he was the master of, that he had his answer. 

Hotch had been called for a mission with a young woman, the ex-wife of a high politician that didn’t want to go alone to some charity event. For your defense, you stopped listening after you heard Aaron Hotchner and the name of another woman in the same sentence. It was a one-night thing; he would be back in the morning. Nothing very unusual from your routine.

Except for the fact it was Hotch with another woman.

And the idea of seeing a picture of him looking like a god—because you knew he would, he always did—with someone else was… “maybe,” you finally answered in a mumble that made him laugh harder.

Hotch could have been angry. If it had been any other client, he would have reminded them that they had absolutely no opinion to give about his job. His job was, indeed, his job. Actually, he already had dropped a case because of a jealous client. So yeah, he could have been angry.

First, if it wasn’t you. At this point, he would be stupid to not accept you as a client. You were…you. A great and wonderful woman that made his day much better, a friend that he wanted to cherish for as long as he could. And, well, whatever you were, that justifies your place in his head and heart. He could only accept your jealousy after being jealous himself seeing you with Derek. 

Second…well, because he wasn’t going to this case after all. He was called for it, and he had done the meeting, the organization. Everything was ready. And until a few hours ago, he was still on it, ready to spend another night with politicians—the thing he probably hated the most in his job. But he quit at the last minute. Spencer would go for him, and he would do a much better job at pretending to be interested in what these idiots would say—mostly to contradict them.

“That’s funny.”

You opened your mouth only to close it. And opened it again. “You think I’m funny?”

“Everyone kept teasing me about this case, saying I’m too involved with you, that my reactions are too much, that I’m too possessive. You teased me about not wanting to leave you.” It was hard to concentrate with his big green eyes stuck in yours and his fingers brushing your wrist like that. “But you are the one who refuses to see me go somewhere with someone else.”

You stayed like that, in silence, for a few seconds. You, frowning and pretending to be hurt. Him, with his proud smile that was only making you angrier. 

But in the end he was right.

It was fun to tease him about his feelings when yours just hit you in a quite violent way. 

So you took a step back, then another, before turning your back. “Blame a girl for being jealous,” you said in your breath before walking to your sofa and lying down. Pretending that stupid and arrogant—and many other adjectives you could find to describe Hotch that weren’t true—had already left.

But he hadn’t.

He looked at you. 

He could have told the truth.

He could have told you he wasn’t going there and he was just playing with you.

But instead he said, “You win.”

You didn’t even turn around. Didn’t even move. Which made him laugh even harder because he knew you were simply pretending not to care. But when Hotch walked closer to you, enough that he could put a hand on the sofa and tilted his head to look at you, he saw the smile on your face. The one you were trying to hide but couldn’t contain at the idea of him being by your side.

“I’m staying with you.”

And you both knew these words had more meaning than they were pretended to.

He was staying. Tonight. Maybe longer. Maybe forever. 

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife (if you want to be in it, ask me and I’ll be happy to add you x)

[counting-crows-at-the-graveyard]

Not to get into community discourse, but I’d like to share a point.

Mind you, I have seen multiple sides to this “debate” as I like to have rounded knowledge before I say my piece, about ANYTHING political or discourse-y.

The statement I’ve seen again and again, in multiple places, is the sentiment that there aren’t bills directly targeting transmascs, or hatred directed specifically at transmascs, or anything else under that umbrella directed at transmascs.

Obviously there have been a lot of good counters to these statements, and I’m not going to repeat something that’s been said better or more eloquently by others.

However, I have yet to see anyone talking about something that, in my opinion, really should be referenced more.

The concept of “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” (ROGD).

ROGD as a concept was legitimately created to theorize why, all of a sudden, transmascs were coming out and attempting to transition.

Rather than acknowledging the blatant truth- tranness, to these people, was limited to AMABs, and even then, for the longest time “trans healthcare” for ANY trans person was just discouraging transition altogether- they decided to make up a narrative that suited their needs.

That their precious “daughters” were falling victim to a new disorder. Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria.

Rather than help their sons feel comfortable in their own bodies, masses of parents flocked to this idea. Politicians flocked to this idea, and used it as a BASIS for many anti-trans bills.

Need I cite the hopefully infamous book? “Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters”? The INFAMOUS book written elaborating this idea? The book used as evidence for countless transphobic bills?

That one concept (which, by the way, ROGD has been discredited by NUMEROUS health organizations worldwide, just in case I needed to clarify that) led to COUNTLESS transmascs facing abuses at home, in school, and elsewhere.

IDK, just food for thought. I think it’s odd that, in all my searching and read throughs of this discourse, NOBODY has mentioned this, even though it’s a pretty good example of transmasc specific oppression.

[sturniololuvz]

Could you do one where reader had a cryptic pregnancy and she had stomach aches all day like bad so she went to the hospital with Matt/chris and she had a whole baby get creative

okay!!!

“Guess What, It’s a Baby”

⸻

You’d had stomachaches before. Cramps, food poisoning, stress—it wasn’t new. But today felt different. Like your organs were in an argument and your spine was the battlefield.

You curled up on the couch, groaning into a pillow as Chris walked into the apartment holding two smoothies and a bag of chips. He stopped mid-step.

“Uh… babe? You good?”

“I think my stomach’s trying to murder me,” you groaned. “Like not regular cramps. Like call-the-ER-but-don’t-because-it’s-probably-nothing vibes.”

Chris dropped everything and sat beside you, brows furrowed. “Did you eat something weird? You didn’t eat those leftover tacos, right?”

“No, I didn’t eat anything. I swear it feels like something’s ripping inside me. I don’t know, it’s bad, Chris.”

Within minutes, you were in the passenger seat of his car, gripping your stomach, while Chris sped toward the ER.

“I don’t care if it’s gas or the apocalypse,” he said, glancing over at you. “You don’t look okay. I’m not risking this.”

⸻

At the hospital

You were clutching your side, half-sweating, half-shaking, when the nurse asked:

“Any chance you could be pregnant?”

Chris literally laughed out loud. “No, definitely not.”

“I’m on birth control,” you added, breathless. “I get my period.”

But the nurse still gave you that look. “Let’s just do an ultrasound to be safe.”

You and Chris exchanged the most unhinged glance.

“I swear if I’m pregnant right now,” you whispered, “I’m suing someone.”

Five minutes later, the ultrasound tech stared at the screen.

Then she turned it toward you and said calmly:

“Congratulations… you’re in active labor.”

Chris’s eyes bugged out. “WHAT?!”

“I’m WHAT?!” you shrieked. “No—I have no bump! I still fit in my jeans! I thought this was, like, gas or a kidney stone!”

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “That’s a head. You’re going to have a baby today.”

Chris stood frozen, mouth open. “Bro. What the f—”

“CHRIS! Focus!”

“Right! Okay! Right, I’m focused. There’s a baby. There’s a baby?? There’s a baby!”

⸻

Delivery Room – 30 Minutes Later

“I am so confused,” you cried, gripping the sides of the bed as contractions rolled through you. “I didn’t even get cravings! I didn’t nest! I haven’t even watched one parenting video on TikTok!”

Chris held your hand and kissed your forehead. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. I didn’t know. Apparently no one knew. But we’re here now. And I’m right here with you, okay?”

“Are you gonna pass out?”

“Maybe. But not until you do first.”

You gave a shaky laugh through the pain. “That’s not comforting.”

But Chris didn’t let go of you for a second.

⸻

One push, one scream, one very emotional Chris later…

A cry filled the room. A tiny, real, life-changing cry.

A nurse wrapped the baby and placed them in your arms. You blinked in disbelief.

Chris stared at the tiny bundle like he was seeing a sunrise for the first time. “No way. No way.”

You looked at him, dazed. “I just had a whole-ass baby. Without knowing.”

He wiped tears off his cheeks, laughing through them. “We’re idiots. But you—holy shit, you’re incredible.”

You looked down at the baby. “Hi. Um. Sorry for not knowing you existed for nine months.”

The nurse smiled. “That’s a cryptic pregnancy for you.”

Chris leaned over and whispered, “Guess what… it’s a baby.”

You looked at him, exhausted and in shock. “We’re gonna need diapers.”

⸻

Later That Night

Chris’s Instagram Story:

picture of him holding the baby with the caption:

“Showed up at the hospital thinking she had bad cramps. Left with a daughter. No, I’m not kidding. Yes, she’s perfect.”

⸻

[hancfubuki]

caleb has carefully built walls around his heart, however, the more time he spends with rafayel, the easier is for him to weave his way through them. for a moment, he says nothing, simply gazing at rafayel with an intensity that could also be a bit overwhelming, his purple eyes glimmering as a smile curls from the corner of his lips. "you have no idea how much that means to me." he murmurs, his hands still cupping the lemurian's face, not wanting to let go. "you say you'll protect me, and i believe you. but please, don't forget i'm not someone who will just stand by and the world hurt you. i'll also shield you from whaterver tries to take away that light in your eyes." in a more playful aura, he bops the tip of his nose with his fingertip. "if you believe i'm enough, i'lll make sure i'm worthy of that trust. so yes, i'll stay long enough, and together, we'll rewrite the ending we thought we were destined for." he feels the atmosphere between them lifting up a bit, no longer feeling tense nor regretting past decisions.

"oh?" he laughs amused, not even being able to hide it. "can you blame me? you were practically screaming for someone to hold you." he finds himself teasing again, comfortable enough to let this playful side of him. "you're right, though. i couldn't stay away even if i wanted to. perhaps you reminded me of something i'd lost, or your fire just called to me." his smiles softens as his fingers trace gentle patterns along the side of his face before leaning closer to press a kiss to his temple, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, listening to everything he's already planning to do. as he's pulled into a hug, he instinctively reaches to the back of his head, petting him softly as he listens to him. his breath catching slightly as his words paint vivid pictures of distant lands and possibilities, truly of an eternity shared. his arm tighten around him, pulling him closer as well, while fingers tangle in his hair as he leans closer. "i'll show you everything." he whispers, a chuckle leaving his lips as he described so wonderfully some places in earth that might actually not be as appealing as he might think, but the idea of exploring the world together, suddenly made the thought comforting.

"sadly, my life is not as wonderful as you might think. i was not born on a beautiful land nor did i grew up in a pretty place. i was born within walls of stone, hidden deep underground. it was cold, with gas lamps that barely provided any light in that oppressive darkness, full of rusted pipes that dripped water that produced an ominous echo. it also had lot of shelves full with jars of organs suspended in blue liquids, malformed embryos, and monstrosities that blurred the line between human and something else, vials filled with glowing substances, labeled with codes and symbols incomprehensible to anyone but them. i can't take you there, raf. they would do indescribable things to you. it would be like leading you to a life of restraint and pain. i can take you anywhere you want, but that place is off limits." his lips press in a thin line, visible uncomfortable at the memories. and it's when realizes that rafayel already shared some part of his life with him, and he hasn't provide any details of his origin or childhood. "i don't know where i was born, but i grew up in a lab. never met my real parents either, i never had a family. the woman who took me in worked for them, she... also experimented on me. and i'm unsure about her real intentions, why she took me in. can't tell if it was pity or a need to have me close. i don't have a home either, my ship was my home, the sea itself. and there are countless of places on land that bring me pain, i can certainly take you there, were i have lost vital members of my crew. but not there. i know we are strong enough to take them down, but what if..." his brows furrow, getting angry just at the idea of them trapping rafayel and keeping him in a cage. "what if it goes wrong? it's too dangerous."

caleb watches him with a faint smile, looking how he suddenly picks up the pearl. the sudden worries vanish, eyes reflecting amusement once again laced with affection. he kneels slowly to join rafayel, his hand brushing against the other's as he gently takes the pearl to inspect it, holding it up between his fingers. "well, i can appreciate their beauty. i heard they are worth a lot of gold, used in jewelry. but if you asked me, their real worth lies in the story of how they’re made. they’re a reminder that even pain and pressure can make something worth treasuring." he rolls the pearl in his palm before holding it back out, letting it catch the faint glow of light between them. "maybe i should ask what they mean to you first, because i'd like anything, as long as it reminds me of you."

Rafayel hears the rustle of moss before he feels his eyes on the top of his head, and he hears the reassurance that only twists his emotions further into disarray. Rather than words coming from his mouth, it's the gentle touch that has him peek through his fingers, lower his hands, and show him shining eyes brimmed with tears, wavering gaze meeting his fear, guarded, expecting rejection, even when he continues to reassure. His thumb is warm and gentle as he clears his eyes of tears, anxiety bubbling under his skin, breath caught in his throat as he warily assesses the other with an unknown clarity. None of his actions are rushed, instead he feels like the gentle breeze against his skin, a warmth clinging to his skin and reassuring him of a coming day, eyelids lowered but staring down at the movements of his, his hand cupped his cheek and Rafayel slowly, cautiously, leans the weight of his head against it as his lips come close and press more reassurance against him.

I love you.

He says so gently as they part, and Rafayel had watched through hooded eyes the way his brows creased, the way his lips moved, his tall nose, and the way his lashes fluttered with every way their lips moulded together. Yet, rather than words he struggled to believe, he relied on the firm touches keeping him grounded, pulling him in towards the man with fingers in his hair, the warm breath brushing him filled with desire and affection, every fibre of his being thrumming when he isn't pushed but dragged further towards his self like gravity.

When the thought had first arisen, it was on a whim.

Empathy or pity, he didn't want to watch another soul endure more pain than necessary. After all, he believed everyone deserved to find peace and a reason to live. He didn't believe death was ultimately evil, but he also didn't think anyone should have to face death with loneliness or despair. Yet now, as he grew attached, started to care, he feels his emotions overflow. I found hope to live. That's all he wanted to hear, and he feels himself nod to his confession, humming softly in recognition as he takes a step forward, burying his face into the hands cupping his cheek, rubbing his nose against his palm, and looking up at him with adoration welling from deep in his chest. "I won't let you feel that pain anymore." As he finds his voice, he raises his own hands to cup over the ones on his face, keeping them still and letting him play with his cheeks if he so desires, enjoying the touch as it soothes the pain. For now, his worries are eased, only determination and love left in his touch. "From now on, I will break you free from the cycle of suffering if you ever fall back. I will protect you from anyone who dares to bring you harm. If you believe that I am enough," he sighs, squeezing his hand tight. "-You can stay with me for as long as you'd like."

Moving too fast. Rafayel lets out a wet chuckle as he lowers his gaze, a smile finally stretching his lips. "I remember someone's very first instinct was to drag me into their arms." Indeed, this was faster than he could have ever imagined himself falling. Yet it hadn't felt rushed when he had dragged Caleb under the raging ocean that fateful night, there had been indifference when he had first awoken, but everything had fit into place in a natural order from the moment he realized their souls resonated a familiarly, when Caleb fearlessly pulled him into his arms, facing his powers head on without fear but acceptance. He had seen the boy trapped behind responsibilities and a power he had been forced to control, scared of a mistake he once made, but also accepting the spoiled and playful boy, the part of him that wanted to experiment with love.  Rafayel isn't sure if he could call it love at first sight, not when he still doesn't quite understand the depth of his new feelings. But he is sure to nod when Caleb asks him to stay, tilting his head up to press his lips to his in return.

"An eternity is a long time."

The Lemurian opens his eyes slowly, hands now reaching up so he can cup the other's face, blue and pink eyes now clear as he tilts his chin and straightens his back to reach his height, noses brushing. "But that means we'll have plenty of time to travel the world, like you said." The weight on his shoulders feels lighter, his hands slipping into Caleb's hair, then down so his elbows can rest on his shoulders, pulling him in and hugging him close. He let his cheek rest on the span of his shoulder, squished and comfortable to share warmth in the gentle light and purple glow of weeds. "I read of land far from the coast closest to Whalefall City. Places where they paint with ground vermilion and sulphur. Some cities that smell like sweet and spicy spices with fragrant oil, flowers that bloom once every hundred years, and logs of a land where they play music from instruments vastly different from the ones I know of." He lifts his head, playing with the long ends of his hair as his eyes glow warmly. This was his answer; he would give an eternity and more. "I want to see the world you call home. Where you were born, where you grew up, and the places and people you liked most. But not just the places that make you nostalgic and happy, but also those that have melancholy and pain. All of it."

A sigh escapes his lips, tears dried and comforted by the sudden realization that he wasn't alone in his sudden affection. Like he said, they could slowly learn what they didn't yet know. But as he glances down at the pearls littered on the floor, not too many but enough to be visible at first glance, his ears turn red as heat reaches his face, pulling away only to crouch down and pick one up. Then, he holds it up to stare before looking at Caleb with a questioning tilt of his head, sheepish but curious. "Do you like pearls?"

Humans did, but he doesn't know much about Caleb.

[hcneymooners]

hello, hello.

i've been debating making this post, but i’ve been thinking a lot about how my work often references God, religion, faith in general, and all the things in between. as someone raised in both the south and caribbean culture, i thought maybe this could be helpful for others trying to navigate queerness and religion—especially the mess and clarity that come with deconstruction.

note: this isn’t meant to tell anyone how to feel about faith or how to navigate their own path—this is just what’s been true for me. if it helps even one person feel a little less alone or a little more seen, then that’s enough. read with grace, take what you need, and leave the rest behind.

for a long time, i aimed to be good. good at school. good to people even when it meant letting them take advantage of me. i convinced myself that as long as i was pure, i would be okay. that it was that simple, and that somehow, i’d figured it out before anyone else. but i didn’t account for anger. or desire. or being a lesbian. what did lana say in that one song? “we had a deal and i fucked it up when / i made the decision to become someone.” so here's a little of my survival guide. for context, i was raised roman catholic.

first comes the work of reshaping the imagery. i released the God of my childhood and awakened the God of my womanhood. i began to replace “him” with “her,” then “Him” with “Her.” i already know some might see that as blasphemous, but it made praying easier which was something i wasn’t ready to lose. the universe is God to me. the universe is love, and so is God, and so i trust Her. She is Him, and He is Her. the universe, to me, can also be a woman who has big eyes and a dark face and makes me feel like i might be staring into myself. it’s easier to come back to God when i picture it differently. when i strip the man to the bone and rebuild into the woman i see, it’s so much easier to pray. she feels like my mother.

"offline or online, i am still connected." i think that’s how i feel about faith; i’m still connected to believing in something. it’s just that what i believe has changed and expanded. it doesn’t harm me. it helps me return to myself and shows me the way home. it’s easier to pray to Mary when i’m scared on a plane, to tell her that i know i’ll make it through because she wouldn’t place me in something i could not get through.

an altar can be anywhere. i used to feel guilty about not having a bible verse in my bio or the bible app on my phone. but i don’t need those things to make my prayer real. you don’t either. your love will pour out and stain the feet of the God before you, and They will wipe your mouth. They will understand that it’s prayer.

physicality. this was important to me when i was unpacking the feeling of being wrong or impure. if the universe condensed into one person, i’d ask her to lie down with me. we’d be pressed knee to knee and leg to leg. i’d think of her hips on top of mine, wide and inviting like the moon. i guess we are naked if i take a step back, but it’s not at all sexual. it’s just the understanding that she is holding me. babying me. and i’ve always wanted someone to. i will feel her touch me, and i’ll try to say thank you, because gratitude has been engraved in me. my mouth will move and nothing will come out, but she'll hear me.

the talking can be constant if you need it to be. i’m always speaking to God, about God, my understanding of it. it’s not organized. i haven’t constructed anything bigger than myself. restructuring kind of feels like waking up tangled in a spider’s web and standing carefully, your feet sticky as you navigate the threads. i took care not to break some of them but snapped others, creating space for new weaving. God becomes synonymous with the world, and you will find faith everywhere.

others may judge, but stick to what works for you.

another realization: it never really leaves you, and that’s fine. it’s also fine if you want to hold on.

sometimes faith blends. i work with water and have my crystals, listen to protection frequencies, and still buy my virgin Mary candle in all of its pink and radiant glory to light in the bathroom. i pray every time i board a plane, after a nightmare, or whenever a wave of unease hits. each time, it’s a Hail Mary.

also: resources. my God, find people who interpret with grace. below are some of my favorite blogs.

has content about faith: @ginwhitlock, @boykeats, @ohholydyke, ethel cain when she was active and i'm being so serious. has content that has made me see the world differently & renew faith in myself: @podencos @watermotif @cocainejuul @kristina100000 @eatpussypraylove @chloeinletters @anxeious

most importantly, i’m taking your hand until you can hold your own. i’m looking at you, because i really mean this: there is nothing wrong with you. you were nine. or thirteen. or fifteen. or twenty-one. or twenty-three. or. i’m saying it because i’d have given anything to hear that back then.

it would’ve been Heaven to me.

if you want to reach out, my inbox and messages are always open.

love you.

allyson. x

[sonatine]

Top 10 Bend it Like Beckham Subtext Moments

All the women in Jess' life dress super girly and she dresses. Well. You're not going to believe this

Neither Jess or Jules interested in dating guys. It's implied that Jules has an ex, but he's never mentioned again and she does not care about him

Jess gets mad anytime someone calls her friend Tony her bf

All the girls in the park salivating over a guy with his shirt off and Jess is just like 😐

Why did Jess sit SO CLOSE next to Jules on her bed when her mom came in? What was the point of that?

Their cute date into city center to buy cleats

Comparing playing soccer to sneaking around with a boy (hm)

Jess' sister calling Jules "dykey"

"Me? Kissing? A boy??? You're all mad"

Jess asking her sister if her parents would still speak to her if she dated someone white (could apply to joe but also jules)

"How do you know if you love someone?" "You'd do anything for them" there is no WAY this is about Joe

Jules gets mad about Joe and Jess kissing but........ who is she maddest about

Parallels between Jess and her gay friend Tony

Shots of Jess' sister dancing with her husband at her weddings interspersed with shots of Jess playing at the finals with Jules

Jules planning to show up to the wedding """"IN HER BEST TROUSERS""""

"You look gorgeous" STOP

Holding hands at the wedding

I did forget about the kiss after the final match

[moe-broey]

What's this?!?!

A SECOND SUMMONER WITH A STEEL CHAIR?!?!??!??

BEHOLD. Summoner VickyT, Legendary Accountant, Avid Collector of Manga (unfortunately sparse to non-existent in Askr), and older sister of Moe!!!

When my sister @vickyt-mv / @sotiredmostnights made her design, I was EAGER. EAGER. To figure out how I'd draw her! And parse out the dynamic between her and Moe!!

Something really fun was getting them to look like siblings, when they look quite different! It's all in the face, I think! And... adding a little something, a personal touch... VickyT's halo cowlick ties into Moe's horns!

I also. Attempted Heel Math. The dreaded heel math.

But to be so real I may just go off of vibes. Just know that there are supposedly canon heights, here. These doodles are also to compare their outfits! Esp in how they match... Because. Well.

Universal constant, so it seems.....

That's all for now!!!!! I do have..... Lore...... extensive Lore......... but don't you worry about that. Yet.

[rohirric-hunter]

My throaaaat hurts

[spacebugarts]

Hey can anyone help reccomend a good website/app for making simple (free) timelines? I've tried a couple but the ones I've found are all cluttered with unnecessary graphics :/

[romantically-yours]

YALL A GIRL BOUGHT ME A DRINK YESTERDAY AND I GOT HER NUMBER!!!!

[cloudbends]

trying not to get disproportionately hyped but yesterday's horizons episode made me lose my mind to such a degree that I feel as though the next episode is gonna be like.. life-changing for me I fear.

[navree]

y'all might think that some of the shit i post about is the most niche i can go, but the equestrian events have already started for this olympics so you haven't seen how niche i can go

[rosicheeks]

-

[todayisafridaynight]

there's normal thought exercise questions to be had about fave charas like 'what would your fave do in X situation' or 'does your fave like Y why or why not' but the most important question to me i could ever answer about my faves is 'do they like shadow the hedgehog and is it purely ironic or do they have all 326 route titles memorized'

[lightningfilledsaber]

I'm sorry but what the fuck do people expect to accomplish by """"planning"""" protests literally less than a handful of days or even fucking HOURS before they're ""planned"" to take place? This is why so many (particularly INTERNET) protests have fucking crashed and burned. Even if your posts go viral, you are NOT reaching an effective amount of people in such a short time span AND you are not giving the people who DO see it an effective opportunity to participate ESPECIALLY if you are asking for things like "don't spend money at xyz" or even worse "don't GO anywhere" especially when it's "don't go to WORK" People need time to prepare for these things. Some people protesting is better than none of course, but you are literally asking for failure trying to "set up" these protests by informing people at the last possible fucking second. Especially because I know more than half of y'all aren't doing the local/community work ahead of time by gathering your own friends/family/community to participate either. You are asking to fail. Learn how to organize properly if you expect this shit to work for the love of god

[sonippep-hohu]

besties I'm not going to lie to you! this place feels more like a PT reblog hub than it does a place for my art and I think that's what's frustrating me!