#lmk and ill remove you

[librarycards]

hi! im not sure if this is the right place to ask but my friend recently suggested to me that i probably have chronic pain and i sort of dont really know what to do? do you have any good resources for newly felt chronic pain (idk how to word it but its only cropped up in the last year or so) and how to navigate it? im really worried since its getting worse and i feel so lost :(

Hello anon! I'm also thinking and moving with this pain-made-pain, and very much empathize with what you're dealing with here. I recommend looking into the work & wisdom of crip doulas like Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha and Shayda Kafai, both of whom have written extensively on grief and grappling with worsening pain / "becoming more disabled" and the complex fears that go along with that. I also wrote about acquired disability, and will probably do so even more in the future.

Annie Elainey is/was an influencer who spoke a lot about queercrip matters, including tracking their chronic pain. They aren't so active on youtube anymore, but they provide an excellent grammar for talking about shifts in pain and ability.

#NEISVoid is also a huge community on basically every platform, where you can ask questions and get answers from a variety of people –– many of whom have been through exactly what you're feeling before.

Lastly, there are a few folks on here I also trust to speak about pain and becoming (more) physically disabled/ill - @crippleprophet, @cannabiscomrade, @materialisnt, @illnessfaker, @myalgias, and @osmanthusoolong, and whoever they all recommend.

[h1tmanmode]

sigh. another one

audio by @sumrbloom i think!!

[crplpunkklavier]

thoughts on vongole, and kristoph as a dog owner

DISCLAIMER: i am not a professional in dog care nor training. i have had and trained a dog for many years now, but he is not a retriever. i've studied up on other breeds out of curiosity (and due diligence tbh). if anything i say here is factually wrong and you know more, feel free to reach out!

Kristoph: Ah, yes, she's surprisingly delicate, you know. Requires careful tending. But, she is my "best friend", as they say. Phoenix: "Best"...? Come on, now I'm starting to feel bad for you. Kristoph: Oh? Of course, she's known to bite if handled roughly. Phoenix: Y-Your rose bites? Kristoph: ...... I was speaking of the photo next to the rose. My retriever, Vongole. Cute, but feisty.

this is all we ever learn about vongole. am i going crazy about it? maybe. (also, after this line, phoenix thinks to himself, "every dog has its thorn..." as if that means literally anything. i love him so)

vongole is one of my favorite mysteries about kristoph. she is not at all relevant in aa4, and if she was only ever going to be in this tiny bit of flavor text (so easily missable too!) why put her in at all? was she going to play a bigger role in a later game that shu takumi never got to bless us with? i guess it's possible. that would lift vongole on the same level as those pesky black psyche locks. but either way, we have her here, and that means i get to overanalyze her :)

or more accurately, i get to overanalyze kristoph gavin on the basis that he has a dog who

is a retriever

is "surprisingly delicate"

requires careful tending

is his best friend, as they say

bites if handled roughly

hey. what the fuck does any of that mean, kris?

lets start with the breed. i've mentioned in a post before that many of us seem to have collectively decided that vongole is a golden retriever, which seems fitting, since those are famous blondes, just like the other gavins. however, "retriever" doesn't automatically mean golden retriever! there are a few other retriever breeds. you're probably familiar with labrador retrievers, for instance. i have a curly-coated retriever in my neighborhood who, you guessed it, has a charming curly coat, pitch black, and is a trained service dog!

we often see retrievers as service dogs, because they're pretty fit for the job. the name retriever comes from hunting though. while my own dog is more engaged in actually running ahead and killing prey himself (no i don't let him do that.), retrievers have been bred to go and, well, retrieve prey for the hunters. this of course means that you can also teach them to retrieve other stuff for you fairly easily. like meds, socks, blankets -- stuff a service dog would be helpful for.

apart from that, retrievers are also known to be good family dogs, because they're friendly, affectionate, loyal, and quick to trust. they're also very active, and pretty smart! there are minor differences between the various retriever breeds, but this much goes for all of them to some extent.

why in the world does kristoph have a dog?

i... just..... does he seem like a dog person to you?? i just.... i mean, he doesn't seem like a cat person to me either. or a plant person. maybe he doesn't seem like a person to me. i just really stumble over this sometimes, because it seems wild to me to think that kristoph gavin got himself a retriever just because he.... wanted a retriever?

the guy works what's pretty much an office job. his salary shouldn't be very high, as a defense attorney? but, well, he's implied to like high-profile cases, and he had the money to employ an assistant, so i don't think he's poor. he needs time and space for a retriever, though. vongole isn't a little shih tzu who's happy to just hang out on your lap all day. again, REALLY active. this is a dog who wants AT LEAST an hour of outside time a day. kristoph gavin doesn't even look like he's ever seen the sun. but ok.

one frankly hilarious route i've considered is that he wanted a dog for protection. klavier says he's been "living in fear" ever since zak gramarye disappeared on him, and then he panicked enough to straight up beat him to death the minute he saw him again seven years later. he's paranoid, he's spying on everyone involved. i think kristoph really was very scared. so maybe at some point he figured he'd get himself a dog that would protect him from assailants.

i say this is hilarious because..... a retriever is not the dog you want, man. like, yeah, she'll be loyal to you if she likes you. the problem is she is also really quick to like you, or the intruder in your house, or the guy coming to your office to kill you. if kris got a retriever because he wanted a guard dog, that was a fantastic bit of stupidity, and i personally love it for him.

another angle i like, one that makes him a little less stupid and a little more horrifying, is appearances.

But, she is my "best friend", as they say.

this line really does something to my brain. kristoph gavin talks like a law text book at the best of times, so the somewhat awkward wording of it isn't really what's bothering me. it's the fact that he said it at all. it's that very last part. the "as they say." because, yeah, sure, people say that. yeah yeah, man's best friend, we've all seen it.

and it just... seems so very kristoph to latch onto a truism about human beings, to make himself look like one. look at him! he's got a suit, he's got a job. he's totally on speaking terms with his brother. when the bar association voted to disbar phoenix, he was the only one who voted against that (one more thing i'd love to make a big post about one day lol), he has regular dinner with his good friend phoenix wright, he has an assitant, he has a law office. he probably has a car, because it's LA. he has a savings account. that's not, like, canon, but he does. of course he also has a dog. he's just a regular human guy! he likes poetry and the arts. his best friend is a dog, and more than that, a breed which is known for its gentleness, and for how great they are with..... children :)

let's all sit back and let that chill go down our spine for a sec.

kristoph got a retriever to prove something. kristoph got a retriever for the same reason that he made friends with vera misham before he tried to kill her.

remember what his prison cell looks like? with the books, the arm chair, the violin? he keeps up appearances, even after his arrest. of course he'd put up a framed picture of his beloved dog. like any normal human person would.

but did he treat her well?

well...... well.

here's the thing.

i don't think kristoph gavin is an animal abuser. i don't think he treated her badly. but that's a sliding scale, with dogs, and with most pets, isn't it? if i'm never outright mean or violent to my dog, that's great, but if i never give him enrichment, if i never learn to read his body language, if i never give him what he fundamentally needs as a certain animal of a certain breed, i'm still not treating him well. i'm not treating him right, i'm just not overtly torturing him.

back to kristoph. in this vein, i often think about what we hear of his interactions with young vera. one thing that particularly sticks out to me is how drew misham says that kristoph was one of the very few people who ever made her smile.

kristoph clearly has a way with children, to an extent. he knows to get her that stamp -- he actually understands her childish fascination with magic a little too well and gets her a present that she likes so much it thwarts his whole plan. keep in mind that vera was 12 -- when kristoph's younger brother was 12, kristoph was 19 already, old enough to consciously learn things about the 12-year-old in his household. he knows kids, and he gets through to them.

but never fully, does he? klavier figured out something was off about the way his brother came to his office. and even vera, despite smiling at kristoph so earnestly, despite really loving that stamp, despite being only 12, even vera was so horrified by that little twitch of the devil's hand. there was always something uncanny about kristoph.

why am i bringing that up? i'm not saying everyone who's good with children will be good with dogs, or the other way around. but there is common ground. you're dealing with a living thing that's smaller than you, dependent on you, and you're building a relationship that'll take a lot of calmness, understanding, and reassurance. kids often can't express themselves in ways adults would immediately understand, and neither can dogs.

and i think kristoph got about as far with vongole as he did with vera. i think vongole liked him fine. again, retrievers are quick to like people. he was there, he fed her, he probably gave up trying not to let her up on the couch. sure she liked him. but did she listen to him?

before i ever had a dog, my mom used to tell me that she thought the concept of dog training (the german word is Hundeschule, so literally "dog school") was stupid, that she'd had a dog as a kid, and that dog didn't have to know any tricks, it wasn't a circus animal! well, my mom was also bad with every pet we've ever had, and with all three of her kids. so.

look, it's important that your dog listens to you. i'm just saying. no, it doesn't have to know "circus tricks," although depending on the breed, it might have fun learning them! and it definitely just. it needs the basics. your dog needs to understand what "no" means, and your dog should come when called -- i know we're all tired of alpha terminology and it's constantly used wrong, but, genuinely, your dog needs to know that you're the leader of the pack. your dog needs that, it's good for the dog. turns out i was also using it wrong! this reblog explains what i meant to say better than i could. my point was that you have got to give your dog something, some form of structure. for the dog's own cognitive development, for you to work as a union, and last but not least to make sure you don't bring harm to the outside world!

and, yeah, this is absolutely the part where i think kristoph failed. because no, i don't think he was ever violent with her or anything, but i also don't think he would ever have the patience it takes for solid dog training.

why else does he, unprompted, bring up that she is "surprisingly" delicate, and requires "careful" tending? kris, did you not know? why are you surprised by how delicate a literal living thing is? did you accidentally step on her paw and she acted like it's the end of the world? yeah, they do that. did you come home late from the office one night and there was a pile of poop on your overturned laundry basket? hmm. if only something could be done about that.

the "bite if handled roughly" part is the last one i wanna talk about, because that also gave me a lot of trouble.

i mean... dogs bite. they do! mine bites. especially puppies are happy to play-bite, often into hands, and it's important to get that under control while they're young. this also loops us all the way back around to vongole being a retriever. remember, they're bred to carry stuff in their mouths. it is in this dog's dna to use her mouth for stuff.

this means she might be bite-happy in a very specific way. i've actually read multiple times that retriever bites are "soft", because again, they're just supposed to retrieve game when hunting, not kill it themselves. it's already dead, and a dog actually biting into it would make it yucky for humans to eat. retrievers are good at moderating bite strength for that.

but.... it doesn't sound like that's what kristoph is talking about, is it? she's known to bite if handled roughly. that sounds like she really bites. and of course she does. if handled roughly. hey, what the fuck does that mean, handled roughly? who's handling her roughly?

again, this doesn't necessarily scream animal abuse. as @mlmschemes, out of professional experience, has brought up, there are certain things that need to be done during a vet visit that dogs don't always love, especially if they aren't used to it, like nail trims, to state the easiest one. you might have to hold a dog down for that. and if that dog is trained and socialized like ass, yeah, she'll bite if handled roughly.

but, hey, don't worry. she's just feisty. :) cute but feisty, he says.

just like every fucking dog owner i've ever met in the neighborhood who has a half-rabid untrained menace that would probably tear my face from my skull if not for its stupid retractable leash.

anyway.

kristoph wants to be a dog owner because it's a fun normal human thing to do and makes him look non-threatening, well-adjusted, and generally likeable. but he sucks at dog training. nobody has ever fully believed the guy--fucking, even apollo IMMEDIATELY deserts him in court. kristoph lives a superficial life and vongole probably has zero trouble becoming the best friend of whoever gets her next.

just to bring this already embarrassingly long post to a point and an end, here's some quick tips from me for portraying vongole, and by extension kristoph dealing with her:

retrievers are affectionate, so vongole is probably a cuddler

kristoph probably has fur fucking everywhere. he comes into the office with a briefcase thats just filled with lint rollers

vongole knows exactly zero commands. if you have food in your hand, she will sit down, because sometimes that gets her things, and she will try to use it at every possible opportunity

if sitting down doesn't work, she will become more and more annoying. if my dog felt like i wasn't giving him enough attention, he used to walk up to my desk and nudge my forearm with his nose so strongly that my grip on my computer mouse would slip and i would fuck up whatever i was working on.

kristoph loses patience with her. it'd be interesting to write, because he'd want to save face if it happens in public, too. he can't yell at his dog there, that'd look bad. i imagine a lot of insistent leash tugging, a lot of ill-advised grabbing/holding her (here's where he probably gets bitten too), and a lot of smiling and laughing and being like "ohh, haha, she's just so feisty today, what's going on ooo she's so nice normally haha"

i doubt he played much with her? she probably had toys, but for kristoph to interact with them a lot.... you can play fetch with retrievers pretty well, because, once again, they're retrievers. and that's a pretty classic "look at me i'm a normal dog owner" thing to do, so he probably has some like, tennis balls and stuff that he'd throw for her. but that's probably it.

if you write vongole changing owners to klavier and/or apollo, please please please let her do a full 180. if you're going by what i've theorized here vis à vis kristoph, that dog is DESPERATE to learn. dogs want jobs and she would be SOOO happy to be trained.

forget that thing about old dogs and new tricks. my dog is 8 years old and i'm currently teaching him a new command, for funsies. it's working and he loves it. you can write vongole becoming a model citizen at any age. i implore you to.

[spiderman2-99]

Mr. O'Hara sir?

Do you know any good tips on how to combat insomnia?

I can't sleep.

You are very much asking the wrong person for that.

Try asking @spider-lily929 . She’s better at being a functional adult.

[spot-splatter-splash]

Hope its okay to post this. Wanted to bring attention to it.

But yes! The way I draw the characters is to imply they're young adults now.

Aging has been implied vaugely throughout the run of Lalaloopsy. With the babies for the original 8, The Webisodes and the Nick Jr. Series portraying them as young children (10-12ish if I had to guess), then Lalaloopsy Girls makes them presumably highschool age, and We're lalaloopsy always felt like they were going for older teens young adults since they own businesses (Crumbs cafe, Spots Studio, Jewels Boutique ect.)

I know a lot of franchises really like to stick to the cast being children but I like turn to MLP: FIM which had the same feel of the cast being young adults in the primary show. I liked the feeling that these characters were growing up with me while still being for kids.

[dilemma-danger]

making a picrew chain bc im bored :]

make yourself, then your favorite person/people!

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1342558

me:

favorite people:

@killthejoyhahagetit @pebblerebble @absolutelyzoned @caffienecrash @jetstar2828 @j4st3rc0re @noah-is-in-the-closet and open tags!!

[hyukalyptus]

me whenever i update my moot list bc another one blocked me with no explanation

[runthelongkon]

another batch of artfight attacks! im having so much fun this year that im at risk of reinjuring my wrist LMAO

top row: marina belonging to glamour (af), nox belonging to pompadour-kid (af)

middle row: andromeda belonging to @transylvmania, skylar belonging to @carn-e-vil

bottom row: fen belonging to K8tertot (af), trixie belonging to Fey-Flower (af)

[his-tamine]

I honestly find it so funny when I'm tagged in non-snz sneeze related shitposts by vanilla blog moots. It's such a jumpscare and the post in question has made me laugh every single time this has happened

[s0lar-ch3ri]

i make a new theory post on a frog (psoilers ahead)

with theories such as felipe is evil and/or working with niklaus:

(post from aethlingg, his post can be found here! note: after research they no longer do jrwi content but rather qsmp content [specifically q!bbh and q!forever from what i noticed! theyre still very cool so go follow him [heres to hoping ik how he/they pronouns works btw])

(post from redcloverf3y, their post can be found here! i cannot find if they still do post jrwi and just talk about other fandoms rn, but nonetheless go follow them!)

(post from razberrypuck, its post can be found here! they def are still into jrwi from their lil bio and shit, but theres also others things they post, like q!charlie [or qsmp in general] and stuff, follow it too!)

to theories of what demon actually got felipe:

(post by pulchrasilva, their post [correct the pronouns if im wrong, i couldnt find anything on the blog] can be found here! considering how five or so minutes ago they made a jrwi post, they def still talk about it, as well as other things, go follow them!)

to even some on felipe BEING niklaus (which i reblogged and stuff):

(post is from aethlingg again, this one can be found here! for once i cant get a full image because its a long one but ill be talking bout my tags on it too)

theres been 2 posts on how felipe wasnt the culprit (heres one by wrinklemcdinkle) (heres another by ralexsol) ive seen, so im throwing my own theory into the mix: the demon is kuba kenta and kk (or mr. kenta) has relations to both niklaus hendrix AND the compass. lets get into it!

lets start with the tags i wanted to use (i found they werent actually on the felipe is nk post, but rather on the second felipe is being framed post i linked)! theres a couple details here i mention but why do i say kuba in particular?

the only person who could actually have something against gillion straight up is jayson ferin, mainly cause he got stabbed by him twice, but jayson isnt a demon! you know who is a demon though? kuba kenta. so for jayson, mr kenta was the perfect way.

as for felipe's escape, the rope was burnt, correct? who has fire powers again? mr ferin. when felipe was being investigated or whatever, kuba contacted jayson and he got him out of there, leaving there be reason to assume felipe was dragged to hell.

yes i do think felipe was controlled by kuba to hurt gillion, it plugs up some plot holes thats for sure. so how would felipe been target if he only pulled the card the next day? because felipe probably was a target since he was born.

its important to point out the compass not only having effects like kk's scratches do (give nightmares, cause physical reactions/changes, etc), but a similar color pattern to both niklaus and felipe. (pointed out by several people before me, like aethlingg in his actual essay about evil felipe working with niklaus shown above) another interesting detail is the nk tattoo is used with a moon attached, felipe's choice of goddess to worship. he immediately finds a friendship with chip when about 4 eps ago, niklaus had been given a stick by chip (important cause of how it was harder to spy on niklaus since the stick was in his room and stuff before, i think itd also add in an idea of "greater connection with the person" and stuff). i could go on and on abotu their connections.

lets get back to the connection of niklaus and kuba. how would they even have met? probably something like chip did for his deal. as the quote above shows (found from the post by redcloverf3y, heres another link to it), people who have that desire for their goals will find him, not those who look for it. why would kuba need to strike a deal with desire daddy? because how else would he be able to use felipe. theres no way the curse would change the free will of felipe (it didnt do that for chip or gillion), so if he wants felipe to be a better puppet, he needs something to interfer with that. niklaus and kuba cut that deal, and felipe doesnt lose that curse on him, well to the others. kuba wouldnt have been able to give felipe the nightmares, anytime we see him hes with the three, so someone would have seen him get scratched! even if he got scratched in the couple months before they met him (cause felipe was six months old, not a couple days), the scars dont fade, rather theres the black ooze to them that burns, making it not a forgetable thing.

speaking of that, lets move onto the daggers situation. why the fuck would a tour guide have such dangerous daggers, poisonous ones to be exact (i heard it had poison effects somewhere, but sadly cannot find any info about that)? felipe has no need for poison daggers! he literally can spit acid! that means its only being used for its forgetfulness, which doesnt make too much sense to me since its not like being stabbed isnt just something you remember but theres the fucking pain of it too (example being, when i was younger and we were in the car getting ready to leave some place, there was this like tightness on my foot and i look at the door and [because it was one of those automatic doors and shit] it was closing on my foot. i didnt remember getting my foot in there and i still dont know how it happened, i do remember though how much of a bitch the pain was. not close to the pain of stabbing im sure, but you still remember the pain even without the memory of how it got there). that leaves one last usage: actually stabbing. again, hes a tour guide, he has no reason to need to stab people, no reason he should have a dagger that damaging, let along access to one like it. you know what has good weapons, ones with magic and shit? the navy. hell, theyre building a mechicanical leviathin! they of course have magic weapons for combat and such. and being a vice admiral, kk would have access to all of them. he gets a dagger for felipe, uses his deal to make sure felipe does whats needed, there.

so why would pulling the card get kuba as his enemy? its the magic of the cards! why would felipe hate gill? why would gillion dissappear only able to be brought back by powerful magic (whole can of worms for niklaus's abilities btw, needed to point that out)? the cards! theres also how felipe did reveal what his plans with gill were gonna be, but its probably just the cards.

i do also think the compass is related to kenta cause of their abilities being matched and it kinda fits him, a man driven even beyond the grave to reach a goal, even if that goal is only known by him...but this is long enough!

i hope i fed someones wants and if theres any contradiciting (or even more proving) evidence, lmk and ill try to counter it, bye and ill see you probably in a writing thing ive been putting off since this morning to write this

[preciouslittlecreature]

Not sure when Ill finish this (my mental health has been on and off lately) but here's a W.I.P Nikolai Ive been poking at! Ive loved Nik for a good long while now and seeing him get more attention has made more happy so I figured Id finally throw my hat in the ring too. Especially wanna thank @sofasoap and @nrdmssgs for sharing all their wonderful work and being such great people!!

[cozyqueerchaos]

Oh, oh, can I have another one?

💤 for Infinite

💤 sleep headcanon-

omg okay okay I have to admit @dreaminginmysoup's amazing fic "simulated delusions" has infected me a little bit- the idea of infinite being able to dreamwalk is so cool to me, intentionally or not on his part. Unintentionally, I think it'd happen more often with people he's in close physical proximity to! Makes sharing a room a bit awkward heh. Intentionally, well. That'd be a really fun way to fuck with shadow :3

[darkipt]

@shalvis

- A Psalm for the Wild-Built, Becky Chambers // kagonekoshiro

[cephalomon]

accidently nicked myself while shaving my neck so now i just gotta walk around with a bloody neck. ok

[nomaishuttle]

umm i doubt literally anybody aside from me is at all interested in this but here is my frankensweeney playlist its got all the songs from the 5 casts that r on spotify (1979 broadway, 2006 broadway, movie, 2012 london, and 2023 broadway) organized to the best of my ability :]

[pedroscowgirl]

unexpected encounter

aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

Warnings: smut! minors dni! p in v (wrap it up), creampie, power dynamics (he's your boss), teasing ? lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: You were off duty, enjoying a sunny afternoon in a tight, bodycon sundress that accentuated your curves, when you unexpectedly ran into your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

masterlist

a/n: i know it's fall but i just couldn't get this idea out of my head so here you go <3

(also it's 3 am rn and ill post my hugh story tomorrow for those who were waiting on it cuz now its getting a lil late)

The evening sun casts a warm glow as you step out of the café, its fading rays highlighting your sundress, a snug, bodycon fit that clings to your curves. It’s a casual weekend, far removed from the usual dark suits and crime scenes, and you feel a certain freedom in wearing something that shows off your figure. The dress is vibrant, hugging your waist and hips, and the neckline dips just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, nothing too provocative, but more than enough to draw attention.

You’re not expecting to run into anyone from the BAU, especially not your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner. But as fate would have it, there he is, standing near his car across the street, his gaze locking onto you as if he’s frozen in place.

You pause, surprised at seeing him, and the moment stretches out longer than you expect. Hotch, the ever-composed leader, is staring. Not just a glance, but a full-on, wide-eyed stare. His usual mask of professionalism cracks slightly as his eyes trace the lines of your dress, lingering briefly on the exposed skin at your neckline before snapping back to your face.

"Hotch?" you say, your voice light with disbelief, trying to break the tension. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

He clears his throat, his expression quickly shifting into something more familiar stoic, controlled. But there’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker back to you, like he’s struggling to keep his gaze in check.

“I could say the same,” he replies, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. "I didn’t mean to stare."

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “It’s alright, I’m off-duty, you’re allowed to stare.” You give him a teasing smile, knowing full well how rare it is to see this side of him.

Hotch seems to struggle with how to respond, his usual sharpness dulled for a moment. He’s not used to seeing you like this, out of your professional attire, out of the controlled environment of the BAU. He’s not used to seeing you as…anything other than an agent.

“I... uh… you look nice,” he finally says, and you swear you catch a glimpse of something like admiration in his voice, something he’s clearly trying to suppress.

You smile again, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, Hotch.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there, the sounds of the city buzzing around you. It’s strange, he’s your boss, after all. But here, outside the confines of the BAU, things feel different. There’s no case, no profile, no killer to chase. Just Aaron Hotchner, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Well,” he says after a pause, breaking the silence, “I should… get going.”

“Yeah,” you nod, not wanting the moment to end. “I’ll see you Monday.”

But as you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you for just a second longer than necessary, like he’s not quite ready to break the spell.

And neither are you.

Monday rolls around, and you’re back at the BAU, your professional self once again. You’re dressed in your usual work attire, nothing flashy, just your go-to blazer and slacks. But something feels off. Specifically, Hotch feels off.

You notice it almost immediately during the morning briefing. Normally, Hotch commands the room with his calm authority, making eye contact with every agent to ensure they’re on the same page. But today, he’s avoiding your gaze. Subtly, of course, but after working together for so long, you can tell. When he speaks, his voice is as firm as always, but there’s something different, an edge, a tension that wasn’t there before.

He keeps the briefing short, his eyes barely lingering on you as he assigns the team to tasks for the case. The second it’s over, he quickly retreats to his office, leaving the rest of the team exchanging confused glances.

“What’s with him?” you whisper to JJ, leaning in as everyone gathers their files.

JJ shrugs. “I have no idea. He’s been quiet all morning.”

Emily slides in next to you, overhearing the conversation. “Did you do something to piss him off?” she teases, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You roll your eyes but feel your stomach flip, wondering if you should tell them what happened over the weekend. You and Hotch didn’t do anything wrong, but there was definitely a moment. One you haven’t been able to stop thinking about either.

“I didn’t… exactly piss him off,” you say, your voice lowering. JJ and Emily exchange glances, their interest piqued.

“Spill,” Emily demands, her tone playful but insistent.

You sigh, looking around to make sure no one else is within earshot. “I saw Hotch over the weekend. Outside of work. I was, uh, wearing a dress.”

JJ raises her brows. “Okay…?”

“A bodycon sundress,” you clarify, feeling your cheeks heat up. “And it was… well, more revealing than what I normally wear around here.”

Emily leans back, clearly enjoying this. “So, you’re telling me Hotch saw you looking all hot and couldn’t handle it?”

You shrug, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely stared. I mean, he was stunned. He couldn’t even look away for a minute.”

JJ’s eyes widen in amusement. “No way. The Aaron Hotchner showed an expression on his face?”

“Exactly!” you say, laughing now that you’re sharing it with them. “I didn’t think much of it, but today? He’s been acting weird. It’s like he can’t even look at me.”

Emily grins. “You broke Hotch’s brain. Well done.”

JJ chuckles softly. “He’s probably just not used to seeing you like that, out of work mode. It might’ve caught him off guard.”

“Off guard is an understatement,” you murmur, thinking back to how he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “But it’s not like anything happened. It was just… a moment.”

“A moment that Hotch clearly can’t stop thinking about,” Emily adds. “You’ve thrown him off his game, and honestly? I love it.”

JJ gives you a more reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s Hotch. He’s probably just trying to re-center himself. Maybe he’s worried about crossing any lines.”

You nod, but part of you wonders if there’s more to it. The way he looked at you—it wasn’t just surprise. There was something deeper, something he clearly didn’t know how to handle.

“Well,” Emily says, grabbing her tablet, “this should be fun to watch. Let’s see how long it takes for him to figure out how to act normal around you again.”

You laugh, but internally, you feel that same curiosity rising. What was Hotch thinking when he saw you? And why does it feel like it’s affected him this much?

The rest of the day drags on, but you can’t shake the tension between you and Hotch. Every time you walk by his office or catch a glimpse of him from across the bullpen, there’s this undercurrent, something simmering beneath the surface. You try to focus on the case, to act as if nothing happened, but it’s impossible to ignore the way his presence feels so much heavier today.

By mid-afternoon, you’ve had enough. You need clarity, or at least to know that this awkwardness isn’t all in your head. So, when you notice Hotch heading for the break room, you seize the opportunity.

You walk in just after him, the door swinging shut softly behind you. He’s standing by the coffee machine, his back to you, shoulders a little more tense than usual. You take a breath before speaking.

“Hotch?”

He turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a second, there’s that flash of something, surprise, maybe even desire, before he quickly masks it with his usual professionalism.

“Agent” he says, the formality of your title jarring. His voice is cool, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back.

You step closer, trying to keep your tone casual. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… distant today.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, but there’s a tightness in his jaw. “I’ve been focused on the case. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms, feeling a mix of frustration and something more personal. “Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before his eyes return to yours. “I’m not avoiding you. I just—” He pauses, his expression faltering for the briefest moment. “I want to maintain professionalism, that’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard by the admission. “Is this about Saturday?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, confirmation, maybe. He looks almost uncomfortable now, like he’s been caught in something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I didn’t expect to see you outside of work,” he says carefully, his voice a little quieter. “And… I wasn’t prepared for how you looked.”

You feel a warmth rising in your chest, knowing now that you weren’t imagining things. “It was just a dress, Hotch.”

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, his hands resting on the counter behind him as if he needs the support. “It wasn’t just the dress. It was…” He hesitates again, as if he’s struggling with how much to admit. “It was seeing you outside of this job. Seeing you as… more than just my agent.”

Your breath catches slightly at his words. More than just an agent? You hadn’t expected him to be this honest, to admit that there was something more to his reaction.

“And that bothers you?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“It complicates things,” he says, his gaze finally softening. “We work together. I’m your superior. I have to maintain a level of professionalism, not just for me, but for you, too.”

You step a little closer, feeling a pull between the two of you that you can’t quite explain. “But it’s not just about professionalism, is it?”

Hotch’s eyes search yours, and for the first time, you see the conflict written all over his face. “No, it’s not,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The air feels thick with everything unspoken, everything hovering just beneath the surface. You can feel the distance between you narrowing, both physically and emotionally, and it’s like a magnet pulling you closer.

“I don’t want this to affect our work,” he finally says, breaking the silence. But the way he’s looking at you now, his eyes soft, his expression vulnerable, makes you wonder if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“It won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “We’re both professionals. But we’re also human.”

Hotch exhales softly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, like the weight of his inner struggle is easing. He still looks conflicted, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, a sense that maybe he’s not entirely ready to let this go, either.

Before either of you can say anything more, the door to the break room opens, and you both immediately step back into your professional roles as JJ walks in, oblivious to the charged moment she’s interrupted.

“Hey,” she says casually, reaching for the coffee pot. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly, exchanging a brief glance with Hotch. “We’re fine.”

JJ looks between the two of you but doesn’t press further. “Good, because we’ve got a new lead on the case. Hotch, we need you in the conference room.”

Hotch gives you one last look before nodding to JJ. “I’ll be right there.”

It’s a warm, sunny afternoon when you arrive at the park for a team’s casual get-together, organized by Garcia, who insisted everyone needed some downtime outside the walls of the BAU. Laughter and conversation fill the air as the team relaxes, scattered across picnic tables and blankets.

You’re wearing that sundress again, the one that hugs your curves, the one that made Hotch’s breath catch in his throat the last time he saw you. It’s a bodycon dress that highlights your figure, with just enough of a neckline to show off a hint of cleavage, and when you walk up to the group, you immediately feel his eyes on you.

Aaron stands across the grassy clearing, wearing a simple polo and jeans that fit him perfectly. The dark material contrasts with the sunlit background, casting shadows across the strong lines of his jaw and the slope of his neck. He’s looking at you, his expression intense, his thoughts seemingly far away.

He’s quiet—Hotch always is during these gatherings—but you know what’s on his mind. It’s the same thing that’s been lingering between the two of you for days, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. His eyes flicker from your face to your body, lingering on the dress, and you can see his jaw tighten. The rest of the team is laughing, eating, and enjoying the afternoon, oblivious to the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface.

As you settle down near the picnic table, chatting with JJ and Emily, you can feel Hotch’s gaze like a physical touch. He tries to be subtle, to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but you catch him glancing at you again and again. Each time, his eyes darken with desire, his body language betraying the thoughts racing through his mind.

You shift slightly, adjusting the hem of your dress, and you can almost feel the way his focus sharpens. Every movement you make seems to affect him, his grip tightening around his coffee cup, his posture stiffening ever so slightly. He’s trying to keep it together, trying to maintain that professional composure, but you can see him slipping.

From across the table, Garcia rambles about some new tech gadget she’s discovered, and Reid chimes in with his usual barrage of facts. But your mind is on Hotch, and the way his gaze hasn’t left you for more than a few seconds. You glance up, meeting his eyes from across the distance, and the heat between you is undeniable.

He looks away quickly, but you catch the way his fingers clench slightly into a fist before he releases them, exhaling as if to steady himself. You bite your lip, feeling a surge of confidence as you decide to tease him, leaning forward a little more as you laugh at something Emily says. You know exactly what you’re doing.

Hotch’s eyes flash again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to snap. His hand flexes against his thigh, and his gaze grows even darker, filled with barely-contained need. He wants to touch you, he needs to, you can see it in the way he shifts in his seat, the tension rolling off him in waves. But he can’t. Not here. Not in front of the team.

The rest of the group is oblivious to the magnetic pull between you two, but you know. And Hotch knows. His restraint is fraying at the edges, his focus divided between trying to keep up the pretense of professionalism and the urge to take you somewhere more private.

You catch his eye again, holding his gaze just a moment longer than before, and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch, the smallest hint of a smile, or maybe something more primal. His control is slipping, and he’s fighting it with everything he has.

As the afternoon stretches on, the laughter and casual conversation continue, but all you can think about is what’s going to happen when this gathering ends. When it’s just the two of you. When he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

And by the way Hotch keeps looking at you, his thoughts following every move you make, you know it’s only a matter of time.

As you pack up your things, you notice him lingering by his car, his eyes still on you, and your heart skips a beat when he makes his way over to you.

"Need a ride home?" he asks, his voice smooth but heavy with something more.

You nod, sensing that this is the moment you’ve both been waiting for. There’s an undercurrent in his words, a promise of something more than just a simple ride.

The drive to your place is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, charged with anticipation. Neither of you speaks much. There’s no need to, everything has already been said in the heated looks exchanged back at the picnic, in the way his hand brushed your lower back for just a second too long as he led you to his car. It’s there in the way he’s gripping the steering wheel now, his knuckles white as he tries to keep control, though you can tell that his thoughts are anything but steady.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw is clenched, the tendons in his neck tight as he stares at the road. His usual cool, collected demeanor is crumbling, and you know exactly what’s on his mind. You in that dress. The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he saw you at the park. The way you’ve been teasing him all afternoon, letting your fingers linger on his arm when you spoke, leaning just a bit closer to him than usual.

It’s like a silent game between the two of you—one that’s about to reach its breaking point.

The second the car pulls into your driveway, you can feel his restraint finally snap. The engine is barely off before Hotch is out of the car, quickly making his way around to your side. He opens the door for you, but as you step out, you can see the way his eyes are filled with a hunger that’s only grown stronger throughout the day. His hand is on your lower back again, guiding you up the steps to your door, but this time, his touch lingers. You can feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress, and it sends a thrill through you.

You unlock the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing, knowing what’s about to happen. You step inside, and the second the door closes behind him, it’s like a dam breaks.

Hotch’s hands are on you before you even have time to turn around. His fingers curl around your waist, pulling you back against him as his mouth finds your neck. His lips are hot and urgent against your skin, and you can feel the rough stubble of his jaw scraping lightly as he kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath is ragged, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he growls against your ear, his voice low and rough, filled with barely-contained need. His hands slide up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your dress, and the way he’s touching you, like he can’t get enough, makes your body heat up instantly. “Ever since I saw you in that damn dress…”

You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, his hips pressing against you in a way that leaves no doubt about how badly he wants you. His mouth moves along your neck, hot and insistent, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, hiking it up slightly so he can grip your bare skin.

“Aaron…” you breathe, your voice catching as you tilt your head to give him more access. Your body is already reacting to his touch, your pulse quickening, heat pooling in your belly. You want him just as badly, have been wanting him since the moment he first laid eyes on you in this dress.

You barely make it to the kitchen before Hotch lifts you up, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he sets you on the counter with ease. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body pressing against you, and you gasp at the sensation. His hands are everywhere now, on your thighs, sliding up to your hips, then gripping your waist as he pulls you even closer to the edge of the counter.

He kisses you hard, his lips crashing against yours with a need that makes your head spin. It’s a kiss filled with everything he’s been holding back, all the tension from the past week finally spilling over. You kiss him back just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands continue to explore your body.

His fingers slide under the hem of your dress, hiking it up higher as his hands trace the curve of your thighs. The way he’s touching you is possessive, almost frantic, like he can’t get close enough. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His hands slide up your sides, brushing over the neckline of your dress. “This dress… you have no idea what it does to me.”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, dark with need. “I wore it for you,” you admit softly, your voice breathless. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

Hotch groans softly "fuck you're such a slut for me" his hands tightening on your waist as he kisses you again, slower this time, but no less intense. "fuck yes aaron I am" you replied and his hands roam over your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress to touch your bare skin. You arch into his touch, your body responding to him in a way that makes it impossible to think about anything else.

One of your straps slips from your shoulder, and in an instant, Hotch freezes. His breath catches as he pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin. The strap falls, and your breast is revealed to him. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in.

“God…” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. His hands move to your shoulders, gently pushing the strap further down until your dress is hanging loosely off one side. His eyes flicker up to yours, filled with a mix of awe and raw desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

He leans down, his lips brushing softly over your exposed skin, kissing along the curve of your breast with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, soon, his kisses grow more urgent, more desperate, as his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin.

You moan softly, your head falling back as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he sucks gently, sending a surge of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as he continues his assault on your senses, his lips and hands everywhere at once.

“I can’t… stop,” he groans against your skin, his voice rough and filled with desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulls you against him, his erection pressing firmly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moves against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“I need you,” he murmurs, his voice low and desperate. “Right now.”

You nod, breathless, as you pull him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you slightly off the counter. His hands slide under your dress, pulling it up higher as he presses himself against you and takes off your underwear, his lips find yours in a heated kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

When he finally enters you, it’s like everything else fades away. The world outside, the past week of stolen glances and restrained touches, it all falls away as he moves inside you. His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, his lips brushing over your skin with every thrust.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his back as he moves faster, his control slipping as the need between you builds. His mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, your breasts everywhere, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

The strap of your dress falls completely now, both your breasts exposed to him, and Hotch loses it. His hands cup your breasts again, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he thrusts harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his voice filled with awe and desire. “Everything about you… I can’t get enough.”

You moan his name, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The way he moves inside you, the way he touches you, it’s all too much. You feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

And then, with one final thrust, you’re falling. You cry out, your body arching against him as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Hotch follows seconds later, groaning your name as he shudders, his body tensing as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high of it all. Then, slowly, Hotch pulls back slightly, his hands still holding you close as he looks into your eyes, his expression softer now, filled with something more than just desire.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice full of awe as he brushes a stray hair from your face. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to keep my hands off you after this.”

You smile, breathless, as you lean in to kiss him again, slow and deep, savoring the moment. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his lips, and the way he kisses you in return tells you that he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper