#she was in labour for like 48 hours???

[ferngremlin]

welcome to the world little one

[boldlyvoid]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky | Part 5: Next Chapter

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Juliette Hale Hotchner is born

Warnings: birth, newborn phase, adjusting to being a family of 4, Aaron thinking about quitting, slight mentions of sex, being sick

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

She lets out the most guttural sob the moment her baby is placed on her chest. 

After almost 48 hours of labour, excruciating pain, not being able to eat real solid food, being unable to find the right position to sleep and the pain pushing with every fibre of her being… it all ended with the sound of her daughter's cry and the feeling of her warm, gooey body being placed on her own naked chest. 

She’s overwhelmed with love, every hormone known to man rushes through her as she looks down at her daughter. Her. Daughter. It almost doesn’t feel real. She’s shaking with adrenaline, and Juliette is crying too, adjusting to the outside world. Aaron is sobbing, he wipes the tears off his face and leans over to kiss Y/N’s temple, “You did so good.” 

“10:21,” the doctor announces and she finally snaps back into reality.

“I did it. Holy shit, I did it?” She honestly can’t believe it. 

The nurses intervene and start to wipe the gunk off Juliette, her doctor is still between her legs waiting for her to pass her placenta, there’s so much going on in the room but all she cares about is her baby. She hasn’t really gotten a good look at her yet, she’s just cuddled into her chest, listening to her mom's heartbeat through her skin, collecting warmth and calming down. Two warm blankets are wrapped around them, Aaron places his hand on the blanket covering Juliette's back, gently rubbing the fabric with his thumb. 

Once everything is said and done, the room calms down a lot. Juliette isn’t crying anymore, she simply makes little coos and grunts as she blinks into the new world. Aaron’s got his head on Y/N’s shoulder, looking down at their little girl, he studies her eyes, her cute little nose, the way she keeps licking her lips. He imitates her, speaks to her softly, and tells her he loves her over and over. “She’s so beautiful…” 

“I want to see her,” Y/N says, getting the attention of the nurse. “Can we do all her stuff now so I can hold her longer?” 

“Absolutely, we can. Come on Dad, you can help me with this,” she cheerfully takes the blankets off Y/N and carefully picks up the baby. “Does she have a name already?” 

“Juliette,” they say in tandem. 

The nurse lays her down in the incubator and turns on its weighing feature, she has Aaron cut the cord closer to the clip, and begins taking her measurements all while checking her APGAR score. She watches from the bed as she checks things off on a clipboard and adds a security bracelet to her ankle. 

“She’s big mama, 8 pounds on the dot…” the nurse turns back to her with a smile. “20 inches too, holy moly.” 

“I had a feeling she’d be tall, her brothers 10 and already almost 5 feet,” Y/N says from the bed, watching on with awe, wishing she could stand and be there, right there… she wants Jack here too. 

Once they get her settled in a diaper and swaddled in a little pink blanket, they bring her back over to her mama. Aaron places her carefully in her arms and smiles. “Look how Beautiful she is.” 

“When are you going to call Jess?” She asks. “I want Jack to come see her soon and to get her picture taken before she starts to change too much.” 

“She won’t change too much for the next few days,” the nurse teases with a smile. “Her swelling will go down and the colour will change in the next day or two, but she won’t look different for at least the next month.”

She lets out a sigh of relief, holding Juliette out in front of herself so she can get a better look at her. “She’s so beautiful already.” 

Aaron sits beside her, a little more than half his ass is on the bed, he steadies himself with his foot flat on the floor. He leans into her, resting his head on her shoulder, “She looks so much like you.” 

Juliette starts to blink, her eyes finally adjusting to what it’s like to be outside of the womb, she squints because of the lights, but she looks at her dad. “She knows your voice,” Y/N whispers, trying not to cry but she’s so overwhelmed she could cry for the next 4 days if you let her. “Keep talking to her.” 

Y/N bends her knees and keeps her feet flat on the mattress, she rests Juliette there in the crease between her two thighs and Aaron starts to talk to her some more. 

“Hi Juliette,” he says with the same voice he’d used to talk to her belly for all these months. “Hi sweetheart, it’s me, your dad.” 

Juliette looks at him, sticking her tongue out, she starts to lick her lips along with her blinking, she’s becoming more aware, and she’s getting hungry too. She wiggles her arms out of the blanket and Aaron reaches out for her hand, her whole hand grips his index finger and he smiles so big. “You’re so pretty, so much prettier than I ever imagined. I can’t believe you’re here, sweetheart.” 

She starts to fuss a little so Y/N brings her back to her chest and lets her settle there. Once she feels her mom's warmth and hears the beat of her heart, she coos and closes her eyes again, full of relief, she feels safest there. Aaron holds his hand on her back, caressing her with his thumb, the three of them are silent, content, and beyond happy. 

This time last year she thought she’d never be a mom. She had almost given up… on everything. In just a week it would be 1 year exactly since Peter punched her in the face. A year since she ran to Aaron for help. A year since she moved out. And in 2 months it’ll be a year since she got divorced and Aaron asked her out. And in 3 months, a year since she and Aaron made a baby. The very baby she’s holding right now. Her baby. 

“I can’t believe I made her,” she whispers. “She grew inside me? Everything about her comes from us… she’s so absolutely breathtaking.” 

“I know,” he smiles, turning his head just to kiss her cheek. He rests his forehead against her temple. “I love you so much, this is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.” 

“Thank you,” she smiles at him, her heart is so full and warm that she feels like she could melt away. “Thank you for her, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for making this a lot easier than I thought it would be…. I love you so much.” 

He kisses her again, presses his lips against hers and breathes her in, staying there for a few seconds before he peppers more kisses to her lips, and then her forehead. She leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder, holding her little girl against her body, this is the life she always wanted. 

—

When Jack shows up, he pushes the door open and walks in slowly, “hi,” he whispers. 

“Hey,” they welcome him at the same time and Aaron gets up to walk over to him and wrap him up in a big hug. “How are you, buddy?”

“I’m good, is she here?” He says, peeking past his dad to look at Y/N on the bed.

From the doorway, Mel, Jess’s girlfriend has her camera out, ready to take a slew of photos of this family’s first meeting. 

“Come here,” Y/N beckons him over. 

Jack is quick to her side, standing on his tiptoes as she tilts the baby upwards so he can get a better look at his sister. “She’s so tiny and cute,” he whispers. 

“Isn’t she?” Aaron smiles, placing his hand on Jack’s back. “Do you want to hold her?” 

“Can I?” He looks from his dad back to Y/N, eyes wide with excitement. 

They get him settled in the little chair and he sits with his arms out the way he’s been taught to hold babies. He’s absolutely beaming with excitement, kicking his feet as they dangle above the ground. Aaron takes the baby from her arms and carefully puts her in Jack's arms, supporting her head as he kneels down to Jack's level. He’s gobsmacked, jaw dropped as he looks at her in awe and all they can hear is the camera clicking with each beautiful photo Mel takes. 

Jack tears up, having to remove one of his hands from hiding her to wipe his face and cover his eyes with embarrassment. 

“Oh, Jack,” Aaron’s emotions get the better of him as well, making him tear up as he takes over holding her securely in Jack's lap. 

“I love her so much,” he choked out, face red and wet as he moved his hand out of the way. “Can you take her off for a second?” He asks. 

“Yeah?” Aaron stands and cradles her in his arms once more. 

Jack jumps off the chair and rushes to Y/N’s side, pulling her in for a hug, “thank you.” 

She scoots over a bit and pulls him up into the bed with her so he can snuggle into her side. Face buried in her shoulder, he shakes while he cries, bringing her to tears alongside him. She rubs her hand over his back and lets him cry, “I love you, Jack… thank you.” 

“for what?” He asks, pulling back to look at her. 

“I always wanted a son,” she whispers. Holding his cheek in her hand, she smiles at him. “Even if I never had a baby of my own, loving you these last 10 months has changed my life.” 

“As much as I miss my mom… I’m really glad I have you now,” he whispers right back. 

She kisses his forehead and pulls him in for another hug. Aaron's standing right there, his little girl is secure in one arm while he uses his free hand to wipe the tears off his face. Jess places her hand on his back, soothing him as she peaks in at her new little niece. 

“She is so beautiful,” Jess agrees. 

“Thank you,” he smiles. “She’s all Y/N.” 

“She has Jack's little baby nose though,” she swoons, hand on her chest, remembering him as a baby. 

“Can I get one of all of you?” Mel asks. 

“Yeah, come here,” Y/N beckons him over. 

Aaron places Juliette in her arms, Jack leaning on her shoulder as he looks down at his sister. Aaron stands beside the bed, smiling as the pictures are taken. They get a few, some with Juliette just in her arms, one with her in Jack's and possibly Y/N’s favourite photo that’s ever been taken. 

All their hands resting on Juliette's tummy, her small hand slipped out of her swaddle and resting on top. All 4 of their hands together, two families become 1 right in front of their eyes. The amount of love in the room is palpable even without their faces in frame. 

—

When they bring Juliette home from the hospital a few days later, she’s exhausted but also so excited. The team wasn’t home when she was born, and they never had the chance to make it to the hospital to see her during visiting hours. Penelope was able to come by after work, she brought flowers and balloons and unbeknownst to Y/N, asked for a key to their house to set up a coming home banner and fill their freezer with meals. 

She sets up flowers in the kitchen, and she has all the cards from people in the office set out on their kitchen counter. Then, in the living room, there are 4 wrapped presents sitting on the coffee table as well as a yellow gift bag stuffed with pink tissue paper. 

“What the heck is this?” Y/N asks Aaron, “Did you guys plan this out?” 

He sets Juliette's car seat down on the couch, nodding, “I might’ve forgotten to put your push presents in the car during all the chaos when your contractions started so I had her come set this up for me.” 

“Presents, plural?” She teases. “You didn’t have to?” 

“I know but I wanted to. I went online and looked up some sentimental gifts and there were too many good options so I got you a few,” he explains. “And then the gift bag is from the team.” 

“I want to see that one first,” she says, reaching out for it before taking a seat while Aaron works on getting Jules out of the car seat so he can snuggle her again. He loves seeing Y/N hold their baby, he knows how long she’s waited for this so he doesn’t interject or ask to hold her too often, but when she’s busy or needs a minute, he’ll take all the time he can get. 

She pulls the tissue paper out of the bag quickly, she feels around inside the bag for a card first but there isn’t one so she pulls out one of the gifts. It’s a photo album with “The Hotchner’s” written on it. Inside, however, the first few pages are full of memories. From handwritten notes of how the team realized she was pregnant before she announced it, the first ultrasound photo she got, photos of her at work with her feet up and all her snacks… and the cutest photo of her and JJ with their bumps touching. It’s so sweet. And then there’s a page full of photos from her baby shower and then the photos with Juliette are already printed and laid out. There’s a whole page of Jack with her, crying and smiling and so, so happy to be a big brother. The photo of all of them smiling, all their hands together and the first photo Penelope has with her first ever god-daughter. 

She cries the whole time she flips through the book. It’s just so perfect and sweet and everything she ever wanted. But the next gift… that’s where it gets good. 

Inside the bag, there’s another box with a piece of paper taped to it. The paper reads, ‘for adding new memories to this book with ease’ and when she peels it off, she sees that the box holds a Polaroid camera. 

“Oh my god?” She’s so overjoyed, that she holds the box close to her chest. “This is going to be so amazing! I’ve wanted to do photos of her each month to show her growth and everything, this is perfect!!!” 

The last thing in the bag is about a dozen cartridges of film so they’ll be able to take photos for months. She’s quick to take the camera from the box, stuff it with film and point it at Aaron as he holds their daughter close to his chest. He smiles and blinks slightly after the flash but she gets a perfect picture of them. “I’m going to kiss Penelope on the mouth next time I see her, I swear, this is the most perfect gift ever.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was also Derek's idea… but yeah, you can kiss Penelope,” he teases. 

“I’m not actually going to kiss her,” she looks at him like ‘come on?’ But she smiles, so, so in love with him. “What one of yours should I open first?” 

“That big square one,” he points. 

The wrapping paper is cute, light pink with darker pink hearts all over it. She takes off the cute little bow and runs her finger over where he signed them all with a sweet smile. She’s so appreciative, these are so cute and she loves them no matter what is behind the wrapping paper. 

Under the wrapping paper, it looks like 4 books in a sleeve, only the first two books have names on them. She pulls Jack's out to see it’s a memory organizer. There are drawers for important things, like their hospital bracelets, hat and socks, their umbilical cord stump and the trimming of their first haircut. And at the bottom, there is a bigger drawer for documents. Jack's things are already in his own, Aaron put it all together before wrapping it up. 

“Juliettes only has her pregnancy tests in it,” Aaron shares before she can even say anything. 

“These are so cute? Why did you get 4?” 

“Well, I didn’t want them to be sold out or discontinued if we have more kids, I want them all to have one,” he explains, the sweetest smile on his face. 

“You want 2 more?” She teases. “I mean, give me a couple weeks but we can start churning them out quickly.” 

“Funny,” he shakes his head, not thinking she’s serious. 

“I’m not kidding,” she stares him down. “We can have them close together, they’d be good friends and I could do back-to-back maternity leaves… it would be cool.” 

“You seriously want to get pregnant again this soon after?” He can’t believe it. 

She nods, “I have heard about people who have a baby in their 30s and then go infertile right after, so honestly I’d rather just try right away and keep trying until it happens.” 

“Okay…” he’s a bit hesitant. “Can we just wait like 3, maybe 4 months? Get used to life with her and get her settled and on a schedule and everything before we change everything again? I want her to have her moment to shine. I want to shower her in love as long as I can before I have to split my heart in half again.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely… sorry, I’m not trying to rush I’m just— you know, I’m always going to be worried I’ll never have any more babies even though I just had one,” she rationalizes. “Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assures her. “You want a big family, I want a big family, but we can wait a bit. Even if we have to eventually go do IVF like JJ and Will, it’ll be okay.” 

She moves over on the couch, closer to him and he leans in closer to her so they can share a quick kiss. She presses her lips against his, breathing in deeply through her nose as the kiss lingers and then she pulls back with a smile. “Thank you for my first present.” 

“Am I getting a kiss for each one?” He teases. 

She nods, “That can be arranged.” 

“Open whatever you want next,” he nods towards the table. 

She goes for a smaller one, it looks like it could be a jewelry box for a bracelet or necklace… as she peels the wrapping off, she’s right. It’s dark blue velvet, soft and beautiful without any logo on it. That means it might be a custom-made piece. She cracks the box open, a little light turns on to make it shine inside and her jaw drops. It’s a beautiful necklace with 4 stones on it. 

Her birthstone is in the middle surrounded by topaz and citrine for Aaron and Jack as well as a sapphire for Juliette. It’s beautiful. She’s quick to take it from the case and open the clasp. She puts it on herself and readjusts it, holding the stones in her hand as she turns to him. “This is so beautiful.” 

“I thought you’d like it,” he smiles. “I’ll get more stones added for the others before they come.” 

“You’re too good to me,” she shakes her head, unable to stop smiling as she leans in for his second kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” he smiles right back against her lips.  

Her next present is an odd shape, he clearly wrapped them all himself and this one is… interesting. She pulls the wrapping apart to reveal a purse— no, a diaper bag. A very stylish, black leather diaper bag. “Holy shit?” 

“It’s nice isn’t it?” He brags. “I also got that in LA, and kept it at the office until last week when our leave started.” 

“I love it,” she says, looking inside at all the pockets and how deep it is. “I’m going to use this all the time.” 

“And it’s one I wouldn’t mind taking around when it’s just me and Julie going out,” he smiles. 

She gives him a third kiss and then kisses Julie on the head, “Your daddy is going to look so snazzy with this new diaper bag.” 

“Okay, open the last one,” he laughs, pointing at the final gift. 

It feels like a shirt or something made of fabric wrapped up in gift paper. She slowly peels it open and her heart almost stops. It’s a baby dress that looks exactly like her baby shower dress. It’s exactly the same just tinier. “Aaron?” She says with tears streaming down her face, “Oh my god?” 

“I got them together,” he smiles. “I knew you’d want to match. We can do the next photoshoot in them. I know you’ll want to take some photos every few months.” 

“Well, it helps having a photographer in the family,” she smiles, wiping her tears. “Aaron, these are the best gifts… but nothing is better than her and that little boy you share with me.” 

—

The first week flies by and before she knows it, it’s 10:21 am on the 13th again and she’s had this baby girl in her arms for 30 days. The best Month ever. Sure, she hasn’t really showered and there’s currently puke on her shirt and she smells like spoiled milk… but she’s never been happier. 

And Aaron loves it. 

Aaron, who wakes up at night to change Julie and gives Y/N time to wake up before he hands her the hungry baby. Aaron, who makes her snacks and brings her breakfast in bed and keeps the house clean. Aaron, who brings Jack to school during their morning nap time, and never forgets to pack him a perfect lunch. Aaron, who snuggles his little girl so mommy can have a few moments of peace, be it in the shower or at the grocery store. Aaron, who’s replaced his weekend run with a daily walk with his little girl in the stroller.

He loves it so much she’s worried that he won’t want to go back to work… and he’s been talking about it. 

They’re lying in bed, Juliette asleep between them while they watch TV on the lowest volume possible. He looks down at her and then at Y/N with a smile, “I love this.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods, “and I think I’m done… with work. I felt so awful when I couldn’t do this for Jack. I had a week off, Haley assured me she was good being a stay at home mom when I went back and then the more I missed, the worse I felt—

“But Jack doesn’t remember, he didn’t even know you missed so much,” she assures him. “He thinks you’re Superman. He loves knowing you save people… but if you wanted to stop, you’re more than allowed to.” 

“The first time Dave retired, he was my age,” he explains. “I think I want to take time off to be a family and when they’re in college, maybe I can go back? Or maybe I could teach?” 

“Whatever you want to do, we can make it work,” she agrees, with no problem. None at all. She’d actually love to have him home. “Although, that will be in 18-24 years…” 

“24?” He asks, confused. 

“I want more kids, you would go when all of them are in college, right?” She teases. 

He laughs, “Yeah… if I get antsy I can teach early. Or I could go back to being a lawyer. I could do family court or small claims, or teach law?”

She nods, “That sounds fun too. You’ll find something to fill your time with.” 

“Are you going to go back to work?” 

She shrugs, “If I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, would you mind?” 

He shakes his head, “not at all. And the same thing goes for you, when you find another thing to fill your time while they’re all at school, I’ll be fully supportive.” 

She leans in and kisses him, “Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” he reminds her. He thanks her every day for creating another little life with half his DNA for him to love for the rest of eternity. 

“Now, the big question… What are we dressing her as for Halloween?” 

—

Before they know it, it’s Christmas.

November flies by so quickly, they have Jack’s birthday, Henry’s birthday, and Aaron’s birthday all within a week. They have a huge party at a trampoline park for Jack, they go to JJ’s for Henry’s and they meet her mom and their babies get to spend some time together, getting to know one another before little Michael starts coming over for regular playdates now that his mom has gone back to work. 

But for Aaron’s birthday… Aunty Penelope and Uncle Derek take both kids out for lunch and time at the park so Mommy and Daddy get some alone time. Some very much-needed, loud and obnoxious alone time. 

Now, she’s standing in the kitchen at Derek's new place, holding her baby while the adults talk about work and what they’ve missed. They hired another person, Matt Simmons, who has taken over the empty spot JJ left while filling in for Derek who is filling in for Hotch. The team is pretty stacked now, especially with Spencer back on his feet and at work every day. 

Savannah, Derek's girlfriend, takes a Mac and cheese out of the oven and places it on the countertop and a whiff of it heads Y/N’s way. She doesn’t like it. Something in it makes her stomach turn, she hasn’t felt this way in a while… she hands Aaron the baby, “I’m sorry,” is all she can say before running to the bathroom. 

“Oh no,” Aaron’s face drops when he remembers the last time this happened. 

“What, is she okay?” Derek worries. 

“I’ve got her,” Penelope takes Juliette right from his arms. “Go see if she’s okay.” 

“She is,” he says while handing her the baby. “I think we fucked up… oh my god.” 

“What?” Derek still doesn’t get it. 

“Oh my god,” Savannah and Penelope say at the same time. 

“We were so used to not using protection while pregnant that… that we didn’t on my birthday,” he explains, there’s no use being secretive when the women already guessed. “Normally, it’s just boxed Mac and cheese that makes her sick when she’s pregnant, but I’m gonna—” he points to the bathroom and follows after her. 

He knocks on the bathroom door and she groans, “What?” 

“It’s just me,” he says while walking in. “Are you okay?” 

She’s hugging the bowl, wiping her face with toilet paper. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures, kneeling down to rub her back. “I should be sorry, I didn’t even think about putting on a condom, it’s been a year and we never have so—

“Oh my god?” It clicks for her. 

“Yeah,” he manages to laugh. “We’ll probably have two under two this time next year.” 

She starts to cry, overjoyed, “Oh, my god?” 

He pulls her in for a hug just as someone knocks on the door, “I have some of these,” Savannah says, tossing a pink little square under the door. “I have a box of like 100 for how many times my period is late by like a day and I freak out. They’re pretty reliable but if you need another, let me know!” 

“Thank you!” They call back. Aaron reaches for the packet, tearing it open while she gets up and starts pulling her pants down. 

He hands her the little test while she sits down and starts to pee. She gets it under the stream for a few seconds all while he gets some toilet paper to place it on. “It should take a few minutes,” she starts to explain but he’s already watching the lines appear. 

“oh no, you’re super pregnant,” he says with a laugh. “Holy shit, that’s a dark second line.” 

“It’s been, what? A month and a bit since your birthday?” She asks, forgetting how much time has passed. “I didn’t think anything of it, my period hasn’t come back while breastfeeding anyway?” 

“And you were complaining the milk had changed…” he reminds her. 

She wipes, she pulls her pants back up and she immediately lunges for him, hugging him so tight. “Oh, this is amazing news, Aaron!” 

He laughs, “You always get your way.” 

She smacks his arm as she pulls back, “You’re the one who knocked me up.” 

“You’re the one who arranged to have the kids go to Derek’s for my birthday,” he teases right back. “But We wanted this. This is what we needed.” 

“This is the best Christmas present you could’ve ever given me,” she whispers so she doesn’t cry. Leaning in for a quick kiss, despite being sick. He couldn’t care less. He loved her more than he could ever explain. Maybe even more so, because another little baby he gets to love for the rest of time is growing inside of her once again. 

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[ughgoaway]

thinking of annie meeting her baby sibling for the first time and im crying! -🪤

ohmygoddd she would come into the hospital room SO NERVOUS. like you've never seen her before, Annie is usually a little ball of energy but she very carefully opens the door and peeks her head around anxiously.

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

auntie charli and Uncle George have been looking after her whilst you and matty have been in hospital. it turned out to be much longer than you expected because baby boy was NOT coming out without a fight, so it was a fucking rough labour.

(charli later tells you that looking after Annie for over a day made her realise her and George aren't quite at the baby stage yet, "but maybe we'll get a fish or something")

I think you're holding baby boy, and matty is sitting on the end of the bed, ready to greet Annie. she runs up to him and immediately jumps onto his lap and anxiously burrows her head in his neck, peaking out every once in a while to look at you and baby boy.

"Do you wanna meet your brother peanut?" matty asks, stroking her curls and smiling over to you. if heart eyes could be personified, it would be matty in that moment. all his family in one room, his daughter about to meet his brother and the mother of his children looking the most beautiful he's ever seen her. (You deny this considering you haven't showered for 3 days and also haven't slept in 48 hours, but matty insits)

Annie nods tentatively and crawls up the bed to you. at first, she just stares, flicking her eyes from the baby to you and back to matty with a nervous smile the whole time. she builds up the confidence to touch him, and she very softly strokes his head. she giggles at the feeling and gets slightly more brave, grabbing his hand and ginning. baby boy wraps his hand around her thumb, and annie gasps. looking at you and matty saying, "Look, he's holding my hand!!" and matty just nods with wet eyes and a Cheshire-cat-like grin.

"Can I hold him?" she asks after 20 minutes of him holding her finger. She refused to move her hand until he let go, and the little contact obviously had built up her confidence massively.

"Of course, sweetheart, come lean against my chest, and we can hold him together, yeah?" You say softly. She nods, and you pass baby boy off to matty whilst she wiggles in.

she's giggling the whole time you're getting ready, but as soon as the baby is in her ams, she's silent. just staring down at him completely awestruck.

matty is, of course, having a photoshoot at the end of the bed and tearing up at the sight of his babies and the love of his life. until George shoos him off and takes photos of all of you, and that's the pic you send to everyone to announce the birth of your son :))))

(do you like that I still haven't mentioned his name bc I can't decide lol... im like 90% on arthur tho <3)

[sequinsmile-x]

Battlement

She’d always worn her emotional control like a mask. A wall she’d built brick by brick throughout her childhood, reinforced every time someone didn’t love her like they should have, barbed wire strewn across any potential weaknesses, her wit and stubbornness the turrets to keep people away. It was a defence that very few people were allowed to see past, and even fewer could bypass it completely.

AKA Emily changes her mind about having visitors on the day she gives birth and Aaron faces the disappointed crowd for her.

-x-

Hi friends,

Not really sure where this one came from, but here is some soft hotchniss for you to start your week with <3

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of labour (non-descriptive), hospitalisation

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She was the happiest she’d ever been. 

She was the most exhausted and out of sorts she’d ever been too, but the tiny baby curled up against her chest was worth it all.

Issac Hotchner was less than four hours old and was already the centre of her, Aaron and Jack’s world. Jack had been obsessed with him when he came to visit just an hour ago, tears shining in his eyes as he held his little brother for the first time. It had been a quick visit, one Jessica had stayed out in the waiting room for, but Emily knew it would end up being one of her favourite memories. 

She winces as she shifts in the bed, the lower half of her body sore in a way she didn’t know was possible, but she smiles softly when she spots her husband jump into action out of the corner of her eye. 

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Aaron asks, his own exhaustion clear as he sits on the edge of her bed. 

“I’m fine, honey,” she assures him, “I had a baby a few hours ago. I’m going to be sore,” she looks down at the sleeping baby in her arms, “I feel weirdly more anxious when he’s asleep,” she admits, “At least when he’s awake I can try shoving my boob in his mouth.” 

“Well that has always been my favourite thing to do when I’m awake,” he quips and she glares at him, failing to suppress a smile as she shakes her head. He smiles and shifts even closer to her, his arm hooked around her shoulders, “You’re already an amazing mom, Em. That’s been true for a long time.”

There’s a gentle knock on the door before it opens, and the midwife, Jen, who’d been looking after them since yesterday pops her head around the door, “How is everyone doing in here?” 

“We’re good,” Emily says, looking down at her son, “I think he’s eaten a little since you last came in. It’s hard to tell.” 

Jen smiles as she steps into the room, “That’s normal, their stomachs are tiny at this stage,” she says, her smile getting wider as she gets closer, looking at Issac content and asleep in Emily’s arms, “And he seems happy enough,” she looks back up at Emily, “You’re doing a great job.” 

It feels ridiculous how happy the praise from a woman who had been a stranger just 48 hours ago makes her feel, but it swells in her chest, her cheeks warm with it as she looks at Aaron. 

“See,” he says, leaning in and kissing her temple, “I told you. You’re doing great.” 

He rarely compared the two women he’d been lucky enough to be married to, who he’d been lucky enough to be loved by and to love in return, but he couldn’t help but think of Haley the last few hours. Emily’s insecurity around how she was doing as a new mom was familiar, an echo of another life that felt so far away yet right here at the same time. He’d tried to fix it for Haley back then, a new parent himself, desperately trying to prove he wasn’t his own father, instead of just doing what she needed. It had led to disagreements he winced at when he looked back on them, made him want to shout at his past self and tell him to just shut up and ask what his wife wanted instead of trying to guess. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes this time. He was going to let Emily lead and only push when he knew she needed him to. 

Emily’s smile shakes as she nods and briefly leans into his kiss before adjusting her hold on Issac as she turns back to Jen, “Do you need to take him for another test?” 

“No,” Jen says, “He’s all yours for now. I did come to say there’s a rather sizeable welcome party in the waiting room for Issac. Do you want me to let them come through?” 

Emily’s smile slips from her face, anxiety she didn’t understand washing over her, the waves of it so strong it pulls her under, making it difficult to breathe. She felt torn open in every possible way. Her labour had been long, pushing her to her limits as seconds felt like hours and hours felt like days. Eventually, after she’d burst into tears when he told her only 30 minutes had passed since she’d last asked, Aaron had stopped telling her the time. He’d simply told her she was doing great, something that hadn’t felt true at the time, and provided whatever physical and emotional support she needed.

The relief she’d felt when she felt her son slip into the world, his cries filling the room only a second later, was unlike else she’d ever experienced. The second he’d been laid on her chest she was overcome with love for him. It spilled out of her onto her cheeks, burning tracks against her skin she was sure would never fade, as she laid a shaky hand on his back. Her trembling breath skipping across Aaron’s face as he kissed her forehead, his empathic love pressed against her skin as he looked back and forth between her and their son, his hand resting over hers on the newborn’s back. 

She wants to share Issac with the world. To show him off and feel pride when people tell her how beautiful he is, but she isn’t sure she’s ready, her every nerve scraped raw, her normal defences torn down piece by piece until it was as if they’d never been there in the first place. She blows out a shaky breath and holds Issac impossibly closer, her hand firmer on his back as if someone was going to snatch him from her. Steal him away along with the sanctuary she’d found with him and Aaron in the last few hours, the relative peace she would have once thought impossible in a hospital room. 

“I…” she trails off, unsure what to say, unsure how to feel and she’s never been more in love with Aaron than she is when he wraps his arm around her shoulder as he talks to Jen. 

“Can we just have a couple of minutes?” He asks, and Jen nods, nothing but understanding in her smile, and he’s sure this is something she’s seen countless times.

“Of course,” she replies, unfazed, and she leaves the room quietly, letting the three of them return to the bubble they’d been in. 

Aaron turns just enough so he can look at Emily properly, “Em, sweetheart, what do you want to do?” 

She sniffs and shrugs, her lips pressed together as she tries, and fails, to stop them from trembling, “I don’t know,” she says, her eyes shining as she looks up at him, “I told them they could come. We agreed they could come after Jack did but…” 

“You don’t know if you’re ready yet,” he finishes for her, wordlessly reaching out and wiping tears from her cheeks, his touch soft and reassuring, his love pressing from his skin to hers. 

She nods, “I just…I can’t stop crying. And I’m so tired. And so sore,” she looks down at Issac, “And he’ll only latch on if we do skin to skin so I’m practically naked and I just feel so…exposed.” 

He knows her well enough to know that she was as worried about how emotional she was as much as anything else. She’d always worn her emotional control like a mask. A wall she’d built brick by brick throughout her childhood, reinforced every time someone didn’t love her like they should have, barbed wire strewn across any potential weaknesses, her wit and stubbornness the turrets to keep people away. It was a defence that very few people were allowed to see past, and even fewer could bypass it completely. It was a kind of trust that had to be earned, something she wouldn’t give away to just anyone, and it was nothing short of a privilege to be the person she trusted the most. The person she let see her like this - as defenceless as he’d ever known her to be. 

He squeezes her thigh and smiles encouragingly when she looks up at him, and he reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, not missing how she leans into the touch as if his touch and the weight of their son on her chest were the only thing keeping her going. He tells himself right then that he’d be her defences until she had her own again.

“Do you want me to send them away?” He asks, and her eyes go wide, her lips pressed together as she briefly shakes her head, ready to say it was fine, that she’d be okay, but he stops her, “Sweetheart, I mean it. I don’t care that they came all the way here, I don’t care that they might be pissed at me. Right now, I only care about you and Issac,” he assures her, his thumb tracing back and forth on her jaw, “Do you want me to send them away?” 

The repetition of his question eases the guilt that had started to build in her chest, his words as gentle as the swirling motion he was drawing on her skin. It pulls a nod out of her, a confirmation she hadn’t known she was going to give until she’d given it. 

“Yes,” she says, turning her head to kiss his palm, hoping beyond anything that it would say everything she couldn’t find the words for, “Yes please.”

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her, his lips stamping against hers and then her forehead before he leans in to kiss Issac, “I’ll be right back,” he says as he stands up, “You two wait there.” 

Emily scoffs, shaking her head lovingly at her husband, “As if I could get up right now without any help.” 

He turns as he reaches the door and winks at her, smiling when she sticks out her tongue, “I’ll be right back.”

He takes a moment when he steps out of the room. Stands in the hall and takes in a breath, slipping on the Hotch mask he knows he needs for the next few minutes, leaving Aaron the husband, the father, in the room with his wife and newborn. He smiles at Jen as he walks past the nurse's station and towards the waiting room. 

Everyone stands up all at once when they see him, excited chatter and questions overlapping each other in a way he knows would have overwhelmed his wife, making him even more relieved Emily had made the right decision. That she’d put herself first for once. 

“Can I hold him?” 

“How is she?”

“The picture you sent of the boys together was so cute.” 

He smiles, his hands clasped in front of him as he waits for them to stop, his eyes flicking from their faces to the ‘It’s a Boy’ balloons Penelope was holding.

“We really appreciate you coming,” he says, clearing his throat, “But Emily isn’t feeling up to visitors right now.” 

A mix of confusion and disappointment dances across their faces, eyebrows furrowing as the anticipation he’d walked in on fades away.

“She doesn’t want visitors?” Elizabeth asks, the first to break the silence as she crosses her arms over her chest, “She’s just decided this now?” 

He nods, “She has. She was in labour a long time, and it’s going to take her a couple of days to feel up to seeing people,” he says, his jaw set tight in a way that he hopes makes clear this isn’t up for discussion, “I’m sorry you came all the way out here, but it might be best until you wait until we’re home.” 

Penelope frowns, “But we brought balloons.” 

In any other circumstance, he’s sure it would have made him laugh. Her seriousness mixed in with such a ludicrous statement, but he swallows it back, not wanting to undermine what he was trying to do for his wife. 

“I can take them to her,” he offers, “And anything else you’ve brought. But no visitors.”

“Not even for a couple of minutes?” Derek asks and Aaron shakes his head, grateful when the other man relents, clearly having just chosen to push the boundaries only a little. 

“Well, can you at least bring the baby out here?” Elizabeth asks, “I’d like to meet my grandson.”

“No,” he says, raising his eyebrow at her, the closest he had ever come to challenging her, keen to keep his promise to his wife to not argue with her mother on today of all days, “I am not taking my son, who is only a few hours old, away from his mother.” 

She blows out a breath and nods, “Is she okay at least? This isn’t like Emily.”

“Well,” he says, his smile turning soft as he reaches out for his mother-in-law and squeezes her arm, “She’s never had a baby before, but she’s okay.” 

JJ steps forward, an understanding smile on her face as she puts herself between him and the rest of them, “Why don’t we all go get a drink? Wet the baby’s head,” she turns to Aaron, “And then when you’re home and ready we’ll come armed with enough casseroles to fill your freezer and excited to meet him.” 

“That would be great,” he says, smiling gratefully at her, something she shakes her head at, silently telling him it was fine. That she’d been there. 

“Come on,” Dave says, smiling at Aaron as he gets everyone else's attention, “I’ll even buy the first round.” 

“Fine,” Penelope says, pouting in a way he knows Emily would get a kick out of as she hands him the balloons, “Just give them both a kiss from me.”

“Of course,” he replies, “Thank you.” 

He watches as they go, his face twisting into a smile as he hears Spencer explain where the term ‘wet the baby’s head’ originated from, and he sighs in relief when they disappear into the elevator. He heads back to Emily’s room immediately, not wanting to be away from her and Issac any longer than necessary. When he walks back in, balloons first, she chuckles, her smile wide as he sets them down in the corner. 

“You look cute holding balloons,” she says, a spark in her smile that makes him laugh as he walks over to join them on the bed, “Were they okay?”

He kisses her and nods, “They were fine. In fact, I think the team may be about to take your mom to O’Shea’s to wet Issac’s head.”

She laughs, her head thrown back, none of the anxiety he’d seen earlier anywhere to be found, “Now that I would pay to see,” she rests her head on his shoulder, “Want to hold him for a bit?”

“Always.” 

She eases Issac into Aaron’s arms, and she doesn’t quite understand the ache she feels when her arms are empty. She decides to wrap them around one of Aaron’s arms, holding him close as she looks at their son, the three of them sitting there in contented silence. 

“Thank you,” she says eventually, resting her head on his shoulder, looking down at her baby who looked impossibly smaller in Aaron’s arms.

“For what?” Aaron asks, kissing the top of her head, catching the arch of her eyebrow as she tilts her head up to look at him.

“For loving me enough to piss off all of our friends,” she says, her lips curling into a smile, “And my mother.” 

He smiles and holds Issac to his chest with one hand, using the other to hook a finger under her chin, tilting her head further so he can kiss her. He pulls back just enough to speak, “You never have to thank me for loving you, Em,” he kisses her again, “It comes naturally. It would be like thanking me for breathing.” 

She chuckles and shakes her head, tears pressing at the back of her eyes again, “You are ridiculous,” she says, kissing him, only pulling back when she hears Issac cry out, his face screwed up in a frown as they look down at him, “Daddy is ridiculous, Zaccy,” she says, running her knuckle over her son’s petal soft skin, her tumultuous emotions washing over her again, “But we love him anyway.” 

He hears the crack in his wife’s voice and he passes the baby over to her, the soft smile of gratitude she gives him all the confirmation he needs that he’s done the right thing. He shifts them so he’s settled behind her on the bed, her back against his chest as he holds them both in embrace, his lips against her temple as he sighs contentedly. 

“And I love you both,” he says, adjusting the tiny hat on Issac’s head, “So much.” 

-x-

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[a-distantdreamer]

Daylight . Daniel Ricciardo.

A.N. Just a random little thing I started writing a little while back. I needed some Daniel fluff in my life to distract from the heartbreak of his (potential) last race week. 💔 Please like, comment, reblog and let me know if you’d be interested in more parts🫶🏻 thank you to @vroomvroommbtch for encouraging me to post and helping me choose a song as my title for this. ✨🤍

One

Daniel’s hand is warm and soft when he caresses my face. My eyelids lift, feeling sore and gritty as I try to blink the exhaustion away.

Even a decade of global travel and jet lag couldn’t compare to this kind of tiredness.

He gives me a sleepy smile, his free hand coming up to run through his slightly frizzy curls - the result of not taming them properly for a few days. Even in the most tired state I had ever seen him, he’s still unbearably handsome.

“Hi, love,” Daniel looks apologetic, as I groan and try to stretch awkwardly on the little loveseat in our lounge. Every part of me still aches, my muscles screaming in protest as I grimace. I could really use more sleep.

“Already?” I croak out softly, trying to ignore the press of tears in the corner of my eyes. It only felt like two minutes ago that I’d managed to settle to sleep.

Daniel nods, and my eyes drift down to the tiny, mewling infant in the crook of his right arm. Despite my exhaustion, a little smile creeps onto my face at the sight of her. So tiny, so perfect, and the source of all of my discomfort. Yet, I adore her, wholeheartedly, along with the man standing in front of me, holding her carefully.

I take a moment to right myself, gingerly easing into a sitting position on the couch. She isn’t quite crying just yet, but if the last 48 hours had proven anything about our daughter, it was that she could quickly work herself up into an inconsolable mess if not soothed. She likes to make herself heard, just like her Daddy.

Flinching as I settle onto my bottom, I let out a hiss and see Daniel grimace in sympathy. He’d been by my side through the entirety of my tough labour, dutifully holding my hand as I’d pushed for nearly two hours, eventually managing a natural birth after the threat of a potential c-section if I couldn’t deliver quickly enough. As a result, I’d torn, needing stitches. He’d kissed my face as I’d cried and cursed him through the contractions, showering me with praise and affection peppered with silly jokes that made me want to throttle him at the time. However, the deep sobs and words of appreciation that escaped him the second our baby girl entered the world and was bundled onto my chest was more than enough confirmation that he was the man I needed by my side as we started our family together.

By the time I’m relatively comfortable, the little girl is squirming in Daniel’s arms, her mouth open as she lets out shrill cries. He bounces her a little in his arms, making soft shushing noises and urging her to ‘wait just a little longer, princess’.

I open my arms for her and Daniel settles the baby into them, unerringly gentle as he always is with her. His honey-brown eyes watch us closely, even as he sinks onto the sofa next to us.

I run my fingertip down the baby’s cheek, smiling a little when her face immediately turns towards me, mouth wide open and chirping like a little bird as she roots for me. Daniel reaches over to adjust the sleeve of her sleepsuit, which swamps her tiny body and covers her hands entirely. She’s still too small for even her newborn sized clothes.

“It’s a good thing you’re so cute,” I grumble jokingly as she complains, shifting her slight weight into the crook of my arm. I unlatch the strap of my nursing bra and roll down the fabric to expose my breast. It takes a moment for her to latch properly. After all, we’re still getting used to each other, and every time I feed her still feels like the first time.

Sometimes she’s slow and sleepy, almost hesitant to suckle, and others she is ferocious in her hunger, her tongue rough and unforgiving against my hypersensitive skin. This time is a happy medium, and I sigh in relief. She seems more settled now that my milk came in properly.

Daniel’s warm hand comes to rest on the back of my neck, massaging the sore muscles there. I close my eyes and lean against him, tears welling beneath my eyelids. I inhale and exhale slowly to calm myself. Often the anxiety is overwhelming, and I have to lean back on rusty coping mechanisms to bring myself back.

“Peach, what do you want for breakfast?” Daniel’s deep voice jolts me from my dozing when he finally speaks, his fingers still stroking patterns into my skin.

“It’s time for breakfast?” I ask, finally lifting my head to glance out of the windows. Sure enough, the sun was beginning to rise, the sky burning orange. Last time I’d checked, it had been the middle of the night.

“Yeah,” he confirms, “we came down at 3:30 with her and it’s almost 7 now.”

I let out a little hum of surprise. We were already entering our third day of being parents, and it was a complete blur. Daniel’s hand reaches over to gently cup the back of the baby’s tiny head, his fingertips swirling over her dark hair. She has a particularly thick patch of hair on her crown, which sticks up if she’s been laying down. I find it adorable. Every moment Daniel and I spend with her, we notice something new, and point it out in amazement to each other. The fact we made someone so uniquely beautiful is surreal.

The baby slows her suckling as her eyes drift closed, her little gulps gradually tapering off.

“Ah-ah, little one. Mama needs you to feed off the other side too before you sleep,” I warn, using my pinky finger to unlatch her from my left breast. Immediately, she began to fuss at the disturbance. I lay her down on my lap, and Daniel leans over to press his forehead against hers as I adjust my bra.

“Hi baby bear,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to her cheek to soothe her, “Mama and Daddy are here. Shhhh.”

I look down at them both, smiling at the sight. I always knew Daniel would be the most amazing father. After all, he was playful, kind and affectionate to those close to him, but I never quite expected how ferociously he would love our child. Since she had been placed in his arms for the first time at the hospital, he had been completely enraptured by her. It made me love him even more than I thought possible.

My fingers gently smoothed his slightly frizzy curls as his voice gradually soothed our baby, until she was just whimpering, her fingers having found their way to her mouth for her to suckle on instead of my breast. I would have left her there for a moment longer, but the uncomfortable heaviness in my chest interrupted the moment.

“I need to nurse her on this side,” I sigh, sliding my hands beneath her little body. Daniel sits up at my side as I bring her to my chest. I ease her tiny fingers from her mouth so that she can latch again. Daniel’s arm loops around my shoulders and I lean against his chest.

“This is hard,” I admit in a whisper, as Daniel’s hand comes up to gently hold onto our daughter’s tiny hand while she feeds.

He hums in agreement and I feel him nod as he rests his head against mine, pressing a kiss to my hair, “I know, Peach. I’ve got you.”

———————————————————————

The promise of a warm drink and the sound of familiar voices drags me back down the stairs - we have visitors.

After eating breakfast, Daniel urged me to shower and take a nap while the baby was settled. Reluctantly, I’d agreed, having to fight the instinctive urge to curl up on our bed and sleep the entire day away as I roughly towel dried and braided my wet hair. I slipped gingerly into some sanitary wear and one of Daniel’s comfy Ric Rodeo tracksuits before heading back downstairs. I didn’t quite manage to get any sleep, but she would need to nurse again soon.

Daniel’s mum perches on the sofa beside her son, their smiles identical as she cuddles her newest grandchild; her third grandchild and second granddaughter. Daniel is pointing out the little tuft of thick dark hair on the baby’s head, commenting that it looks similar to Michelle’s hair when she was a baby. Grace agrees with a nostalgic smile.

I step into the room, a little hesitant about interrupting them. I take my phone out of my pocket and swipe away the notifications from my friends before snapping a photo of Daniel, his mother and our daughter on the sofa. I’d send it to them both later.

Grace is first to notice me, and hands the baby over to Daniel so she can stand up and greet me, “Hi, sweetheart.”

She wraps me up in a warm hug that makes me start to cry again. She doesn’t question it, just holds me and strokes my back as if it had been expected.

“It’s okay, darling,” she soothes, “you’ve made a beautiful baby. She’s just wonderful.”

I nod, uncurling my arms from around her and looking up at her, grateful to have Grace in my life. She was the maternal figure I never knew I needed after losing my own mum as a teenager.

“How was your shower, love?” Daniel calls from his spot on the sofa. He’s still cuddling our daughter, her tiny body curled up on his chest, which seemed to be one of her favourite spots. His feet were kicked up onto the coffee table, allowing him to stretch out.

I smile at him tearfully and nod again, “nice, thanks. Better than the one at the hospital for sure.”

“Nothing beats having a hot shower at home,” Grace agrees, gently giving my shoulder a squeeze, “do you want a cup of tea? A juice?”

“A tea would be wonderful,” I say gratefully, her offer almost bringing me to tears again.

Grace urges me to go and sit next to Daniel before she leaves for the kitchen. Daniel calls after her that there’s a new box of decaf tea in the cupboard near the kettle, which makes me smile. I don’t know how I got so lucky.

“Want her?” Daniel asks, as I watch our daughter sleep peacefully. How could I possibly disturb her?

I shake my head, although every instinct I have wants her pressed to my skin all the time, as close as she can be, “she looks so happy with her Daddy.”

Daniel beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “I still can’t believe that I’m a Dad, and you’re a Mum.”

“I know,” I agree, resting my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know Mum was coming. I missed her messages on my phone and then she was at the door,” he apologises quietly, just in case Grace was within earshot.

I shake my head at him, “don’t be sorry. She’s a godsend. You know I love her, and she’ll be helpful.”

“Honestly, the woman is full of baby wisdom,” Daniel quips with amazement lacing his voice.

“It’s almost as if she’s raised two of her own,” I joke in response.

“Almost,” he laughs, turning his head to kiss my forehead. My ability to come back at him with a response that makes him laugh pleases me - it makes me feel a little more like myself

Grace comes back a moment later with a tray carrying three mugs. She’d made all of us a decaf tea in solidarity, quipping that we were all in it together. Once she’d unloaded the mugs onto the coffee table, she settled into the plush armchair alongside the sofa, pushing her glasses up to settle into her perfectly curly hair.

“Well this feels surreal,” Daniel jokes.

I laugh, shaking my head at him as I lean forward to reach for my mug. Grace sees how I flinch at the movement and hands the mug to me instead. I smile gratefully at her, saying a quiet thank you.

“It does feel surreal,” Grace agrees, as I blow across the surface of my tea before taking a tentative sip. It’s a little too hot still, but I can’t bear the pain of pulling at my stitches by reaching to set the mug down again, so I just hold it in my hands.

“Does she have a name yet?” Grace asks.

I shake my head, biting softly on my lower lip as I turn my head to look at our little unnamed baby. As much as I knew she would never remember these first days of us calling her silly little nicknames, I felt guilty that she didn’t have a name when she entered the world.

“Naming a human is hard,” Daniel states, “everything just feels a little …off.”

“It took a week for us to name Daniel,” Grace said reassuringly, “especially because Michelle kept calling him different names every few hours and confusing things.”

I laugh, able to picture little three year old Michelle trying to name her newborn baby brother.

“I’m glad she didn’t win that battle,” Daniel laughs.

“He was ‘Koala’ for about three hours,” Grace added.

“As long as you don’t want a daughter called Koala,” I give him a pointed look, bringing the mug to my lips again to take another sip.

Grace and Daniel smile at that, and Daniel shakes his head, “no, she needs something perfect.”

“You’ll think of something,” Grace insists, taking a sip of her own drink.

———————————————————————

Daniel and I decide that the most practical way of deciding a name is to simply start using potential names in conversation about the baby, and see if any fit.

We start at the top of the list on Daniel’s phone, dropping each name into a sentence as we go about our routine. After each time, Daniel, Grace and I pause, look at each other, and either Daniel or I will grimace and shake our heads before we continue on. Quite a few names are eliminated quickly, and I begin to lose hope that we’ll ever find something to suit her.

It’s as I’m changing her nappy after lunchtime, and outstretch my hand towards Daniel, that another name pops into my head, “babe, can you pass more of Elsie’s wipes, please?”

Daniel pauses, raising his eyebrows at me from across the sofa, “more of Elsie’s wipes?”

I freeze too and turn my head to look at him, a small smile appearing on my lips as I nod, “more wipes for Elsie. Please.”

Daniel chuckles, grabbing the pack of baby wipes from the caddy on the coffee table to pass them to me. As he hands them over he says the name again, “Elsie is being such a good girl.”

I beam at the way his accent rolls around the vowels of the name, “she really is.”

Grace was peering between us with a smile, watching the exchange closely but not interfering.

I open the pack of wipes and watch as the little girl lays contently on her changing mat, peering around with her big brown eyes. Her tiny fist finds it’s way to her mouth again and she gums at her small fingers softly, making me smile, “what do you think, Pudding? Is your name Elsie?”

As I wipe her carefully, Daniel appears at our side, chattering away to her in a silly voice and occasionally dropping the name in. Probably to test whether I would back out of this one, or if it sounded silly in another context. It definitely didn’t, and the more he used the name, the more I loved it.

Once I fasten her into a clean nappy, I turn to look at Daniel, who’s still beaming from where he kneels next to the sofa, his head resting next to our baby girl on her changing mat. His golden eyes watch me, scanning my face for any kind of hesitancy.

“Elsie Grace Ricciardo?” I prompt, and he nods, his gorgeous smile splitting his face.

He leans up enough to cup my face in his hands, and he kisses me softly, still smiling against my mouth even as he pulls away again.

“Elsie Grace Ricciardo.”

[changingplumbob]

Pancakes Household: Chapter 9, Part 5

Eliza and Bob consider adoption.

Nicknames: Bob = Sleek, Eliza = Jumble

With the kids in bed Eliza set about doing a few chores that needed her attention. Bob was always happy to let puddles dry themselves but Eliza liked a clean floor, I don’t know what her excuse for mopping the puddle outside was… After she settled in to relax and cross stitch, choosing to try a fox pattern. She settles to try talking to Bob about adoption, he might like the idea.

Eliza: How was your shift

Bob: Busy but fun. That critic didn’t show up again thank goodness, I swear he’s a plague on the restaurant

Eliza: Sleek, I was talking to Kayleigh about wanting a third kid, because I do want one, and she suggested adoption

Bob: Adoption? I thought we were going to try properly once Fergus is a teen

Eliza: I know that’s what we agreed to but- would you consider us adopting a little girl instead of me having another pregnancy

Bob: Of course! I love you Jumble. Whether our kids come from us or not, they’re going to be our kids

Eliza: *sighs* oh thank goodness because I did not want to go through labour again

Bob: *laughs* Fergus did take his sweet time coming into the world, longest 48 hours of my life

Eliza: I know the waitlists can be long but... you could talk to Aaron? As a lawyer maybe he could put in a good word somewhere

Bob: I’m sure he would. Besides, giving birth has already done wonderful things to your body

Eliza: *blushes* I’m pretty sure it’s your food that’s done it but... care for an inspection

Bob: Don’t have to ask me twice Mrs critic

Eliza: We should let the kids know what we’re doing

Bob: And you think we can request a girl

Eliza: Jumble, who does the cleaning? I know all about your stash of pink infant clothes you’ve been making since we got married. Just try and get them to stop me making that money well spent

Bob: I mean I know they might grow up to not be a girl but while they’re small and can’t complain I do want to wrap them in pink

Eliza: *chuckles* You’re such a softie

Bob: Oh here they are, morning stack!

Fergus: Stack?

Bob: Because we’re a group of Pancakes

Onyx: I will not be including that in a comedy set

Eliza: Listen, your dad and I have been talking and… we’re going to try an adopt an infant. How would you two feel about that

Onyx: Would I get babysitting money

Fergus: Can we do adorable photoshoots

Bob: Well one of us would try be home with her while she’s an infant but maybe once she’s a toddler you can help out

Fergus: It’s going to be a girl?

Eliza: We hope so but it will depend on who out there needs a home

Their parents leave and Onyx and Fergus continue to chat for a while. Overall, they think a little sister could be cute, and photography loving Fergus wants to take a bazillion pictures already.

Onyx: Maybe having a cute baby around will make it easier to convince mother to buy me a horse

Eliza: I heard that! We are thinking on it dear, just keep walking Ginger for now

In the kitchen Bob decides to make some French toast to keep, he loves having leftovers in the fridge. Down beside him Ginger is being assistant chef, barking her approval now and then and finishing off a piece Bob deemed too well cooked to go in the pile.

Eliza: So you can fit us in this morning? Yes my husband’s shift doesn’t start until the afternoon so we’d be happy to come in for the interview. Do we need to bring anything

Onyx: Hey dad

Bob: Yes?

Onyx: I just wanted to say, and this isn’t about getting a horse I promise

Bob: Okay

Onyx: I hope you and mother can sort it out. You’re always kind to me and I think any kid would benefit from being raised by the two of you

Bob: Thanks kid, come here *hugs*

School time! Can I finally get a shot of the lot in the sun? Nope. Too cloudy *sighs*. Carson is spending the time before class on the computers resting his asthma while Artemisia is making use of the workout equipment upstairs. To my complete and utter shock the principal is actually using his office!

Onyx feels like studying for the exams, can’t let their grades slip if they want to earn a horse. They’ve just finished off the chapter when a girl enters the room looking very confused.

Onyx: Hi can I help

Scarlett: Classes haven’t started already have they

Onyx: Nope, I just find that math class is usually a quieter place than the library before school. Are you lost?

The girl furrows her brow and sits on the desk beside them.

Scarlett: A little. It’s my first day

Onyx: Happy belated birthday

Scarlett: *laughs* Thanks

Onyx: My younger brother is starting this week, he might be in your class

Scarlett: I’ll look out for him. What’s his name

Onyx: Fergus

Scarlett: Got it. Do you know where I go to get to art class

Onyx: Sure do. So out the door if you head towards the lockers, turn left before the stairs then take the next left and you’ll be in the art corridor

The bell rings and Scarlett thanks Onyx before dashing out of the room as students begin to drift in.

Previous ... Next

[barbiewritesstuff]

My Little Girl

 

-- Something new, I hope you like it :) --

 

“Gotta hold on easy as I let you go

Gonna tell how much I love you

Though you think you already know”

 

“Mav, I’m pregnant”

That’s all Charley had said on the phone call.

    And to be honest, that’s all she had to say to get him to speed down to where she lived. He had attended all scans, all appointments, been there for every babygrow bought, attended every parenting class and read every baby book.

He had nearly fainted when the doctor said it was a girl. 

The first girl in five generations of Mitchells. 

 

 

“I remember I thought you looked like an angel

Wrapped in pink, so soft and warm

You've had me wrapped around your finger

Since the day you were born”

 

He had nearly fainted twice during your birth, once when Charley went into labour and when they put you in his arms. It was a good thing he had been sitting next to Carol, her expert eyes spotting the first signs of his predicament and scooping you out of his embrace. 

Mav had needed to spend less than ten minutes in your presence to know you had him wrapped around your finger. 

You didn’t coo, you didn’t smile, you just looked and that was enough

 

“You're beautiful, baby, from the outside in

Chase your dreams, but always know the road

That'll lead you home again

Go on, take on this whole world

But to me you know you'll always be

My little girl”

 

Then, when Charley left and he only had weekends with you he tried to cram as much fun and love in the 48 hours the courts had granted him. He saw you grow, Saturday by Saturday and Sunday by Sunday, from a quiet little baby to a headstrong little girl. 

And he heard you grow  weekday night phone call by weekday night phone call from young girl to young lady, with a head full of dreams and big plans for the future. 

 

 

“When you were in trouble, that crooked little smile

Could melt my heart of stone

Now look at you, I've turned around

And you've almost grown”

 

When you went off to college, Mav swore it was worse than his first heartbreak. He cried for the first time since your birth and Carole had had to hold him. She had gone through the same thing with Bradley a few years ago and he could feel her gently shaking, trying to hold in her laughter. 

When the tears finally stopped the heartache didn’t dull. Mav knew you were just having fun, and he had once berated his mother for doing what he did now, but he couldn’t deny waiting by the phone hoping you would call. 

“You’re worse than Goose was” Carol had laughed “Nick waited by the phone for the whole night when Brad went to his first sleepover”

 

 

“Sometimes you're asleep, I whisper, I love you

In the moonlight at your door

As I walk away, I hear you say

Daddy, love you more”

 

For your birthday each year he’d take you for dinner and a sunset. You’d open your presents in the car (books, always books. You got it from your mother’s side, the Mitchells could never sit still long enough) and point out constellations over some terrible supermarket chocolate cake that you insisted on buying every time regardless of how many times Mav tried to tell you he was willing to buy you a nice one. 

And the one year you were gone for your birthday, Pete had sat underneath the night sky by himself hoping you could feel how much he missed you and hear the I love Yous he was whispering to the stars.

 

 

“You're beautiful, baby, from the outside in

Chase your dreams, but always know the road

That'll lead you home again

Go on, take on this whole world

But to me you know you'll always be

My little girl”

 

Pete had never been prouder when you graduated.

Although they had stopped getting along a long time ago, he gripped Charley’s hand hard during your Valedictorian speech. He cried right through it, and through dinner too and even though Carol was no longer there to cheer you on in life, he had been so happy when you had kept her a seat.

 

“Someday, some boy will come and ask me for your hand

But I won't say yes to him unless I know

He's the half that makes you whole

He has a poet's soul

And the heart of a man's man”

I know he'll say that he's in love

But between you and me

He won't be good enough”

 

You introduced him to your boyfriends and Mav had to bite his tongue. None of them were good enough for someone like you. Someone so kind and gentle, someone so precious to him. 

Some of them asked if they could marry you but he had refused. You had argued and fought but fate had proved him right. 

And then Rooster asked and it felt like the clouds parted after a heavy storm. 

The Bradshaw Mitchell squad reunited again.

 

 

"You're beautiful, baby, from the outside in (outside in)

Chase your dreams, but always know the road

That'll lead you home again

Go on, take on this whole world

But to me you know you'll always be

My little girl”

Maverick stood proudly by your side, marching down the aisle in your gorgeous wedding dress to the melody of an old Sinatra song. You held your head high but beneath the veil, tears glistened on your cheeks. Rooster was crying at the sight of you and Maverick had never been happier to hear you say I do.

[useless-catalanfacts]

On this International Workers' Day we remember Isavel Vilà i Pujol, known as "Isabel Cinc Hores" ("Isabel Five Hours" in the Catalan language), fighter for children's rights.

Born in Calonge in 1843, she came from a working class family who worked in the cork stopper industry. In that time, the stopper industrial areas showed huge social inequalities. While the working class had a life expectancy of 48, the priests and other Church members lived on average to 64 years old. The workers' reduced life was a result of abusive work conditions and long hours (12 to 13 hours of work each day). They were not recognised a right to strike nor to unionize, and the owners fired anyone they wanted at any moment without giving explanations nor payments for it. Women were paid half as much as men for the same job, and children started working in the cork stopper factories at 6 years old for very little pay. The factories were humid and workers often dealt with toxic materials, which added to their insufficient diet, often caused illnesses and workplace accidents.

Isavel started working at a young age, and though she could barely read and write she was decided that she wanted to study and learn. In her free time, she studied and visited the ill. She took part in the republican uprisings against the Savoia Spanish monarchy and Spanish centralism, which were widespread protests in Catalonia, and joined the AIT (International Workers' Association) anarchist union. She decided to become a teacher, and while studying criticized the difficult spelling rules, which she considered too strict just like social rules in life (she simplified her name, from "Isabel Vila" to "Isavel Vila", since in her and most dialects of Catalan, b and v are pronounced the same).

She organized the workers of Llagostera (the town where she lived) and nearby Sant Feliu, and worked together with other women to protest for the abolition of the military draft, the separation of Church and state and freedom of religion.

She was most well-known for her fight for children's rights. The government passed a law limiting children's labour to 5 hours for boys under 13 and girls under 14 and to 8 hours for boys under 15 and girls under 17, but this law was not applied. She confronted local authorities demanding this law be respected, insisting that children need to grow healthy and that child labour perpetuates illiteracy. She was ridiculed for it both by the local bourgeoisie and by fellow trade unionists, who did not understand that children shouldn't be at work.

The coup in 1874 and the restoration of the Bourbonic monarchy illegalized the International and workers' associations. The government issued an arrest order for Isavel, who crossed the border with France and went on exile in Carcassona (Occitania). A rich Freemason family (the Muntada family) hosted her at their home, and during her exile Isavel could study to become a teacher.

She could come back to Catalonia 7 years later, when there was some political change. For the rest of her life, she worked as a teacher and created non-religious schools for working class children with new pedagogic methods. She quickly gained recognition as a great professional, but was excluded by other leftist school organizations. She spent her last years teaching in a free school for girls that she had founded in Sabadell, until she died in 1896.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Talking Points

I know that the UK doesn’t get all that much play in international news. I don’t blame anybody. The US tends to dominate, and for international news there’s generally Ukraine to focus on. So I don’t go running around screaming WHY ISN’T ANYONE TALKING ABOUT THIS?!?

I just talk about it.

I talk about how much profit the electric companies are raking in while we try to set up ‘warmth banks’ in libraries and the like but can’t because over a decad of Tory austerity is making it impossible for those libraries to stay open under normal circumstances, never mind get enough funding to have the heating on. How food banks are shutting down not because they’re not needed but because people can’t afford to donate to them, and how those that are open are having to turn away donations of far too many things (root vegetables, in the main - some of the cheapest healthiest ways to eat) because people turn them down for not being able to afford the energy needed to cook them. About how PM-to-be Truss keeps saying that corporate tax cuts will benefit everyone by encouraging corporations to keep their prices low, when we all see how they use tax cuts not to make their goods or services more affordable but to do stock buy-backs and enrich themselves at our expense.

Speaking of PM-to-be Truss, I talk about how she’s not exactly giving specifics about how she wants to scrap labour laws, but has stated that she plans to “deregulate aspects of the economy” because she insists that “UK workers are the laziest in the world” and “we need to be competitive in the global market”. When you consider that we already have the stingiest workers’ rights in Europe, you can imagine how much worse it can get. I see scrapping the 48-hour work week and holiday entitlement, because she’s already hinted as much. I see further reduction of maternity and paternity leave, and even stingier rules about paid sick leave, and probably stingier statutory sick pay too. I also see a crackdown on the labour unions, because she’s outright said that’s what she wants to do. While she says it’s all about “not disrupting things for normal people”, what she means is “people being unable to get to work costs our rich corporate donors money and meeting the strikers’ demands would cost them more money so let’s shut this shit down so that the plebs will sit down, shut up, and eat the shit we’ve given them”. Given that Truss has literally said that it’s entirely fair to prioritise the most well-off in society when it comes to tax cuts and economic graces ... you can see where the people rate in her view.

I talk about the Elections Bill. I talk about how we’re going to have voter ID introduced, and yet we still have heard nothing about how to apply for the free voter card we’ve been told we can have. About how senior railcards are seen as valid photo ID but student railcards are not. About how expensive passports are and how slow and backlogged the passport office has been since the end of the Brexit transition period - not to mention how they’re using the state of the passport office to insist on it needing to be privatised.

I also talk about the Elections Bill in the context of “it puts the Elections Commission more closely under government control”. Presumably because the Tories watched Trump try to get people to throw the election in his favour and were smart enough to set the legal procedures in place to do it properly.

I talk about the Police, Crime, Sentencing, and Courts Act. About how most forms of protest have been outright criminalised. About how they can legally shut down protests for any reason, up to and including, “You’re annoying someone”. Which is, the last time I checked, the point of a protest. It also ignores data protection and confidentiality rules by demanding information about everyone (including victims and children) from whatever sources they deem fit, whether or not it’s applicable. Also gives the police greater stop and search powers - anywhere they want, any time they want, for whatever reason they want to make up. Also basically makes Gypsy, Roma, and Traveller encampments illegal. Not to mention the whole thing about forcing trans women to be incarcerated in men’s prisons, and vice versa.

I talk about the treatment of trans people in general. While a lot of people are pretty much okay with the whole concept, the government is not. The government that more or less controls our access to trans-affirming healthcare (and are behaving a lot like some US states about it). The government that insists so strongly that “biological sex is all-important” that they argue with the phrasing of “people who have ovaries” on a piece of advice about diagnosing and treating ovarian cancer. The government whose prime minister at the time (and technically still is, the rumpled pile of medical waste that he is) was proud to go on record as saying that trans women shouldn’t compete in women’s sport, and was backed by most of his government. This is the country that shaped JK Rowling; do not forget that. (Let’s face it, however much a poor single mother she was when she wrote the first Harry Potter book, she went high-octane Tory the red-hot minute she had enough money to sit on like a dragon on its hoard.)

Now, a lot of this goes against international human rights law. So I talk about the fact that the UK wants to entirely quit the European Court of Human Rights and make its own human rights laws. Given the above, how do you think that bill of human rights is going to look? We’ve already had our rights whittled down to the point where more than a few organisations are looking our way and going, “Um ... you know this is bad, right?” If we’re ever in a position where the ECHR doesn’t apply, everyone but the very rich in this country is fucking doomed.

Not that we aren’t already.

This is the country in which I now live. It terrifies me a little more every day. I don’t expect everybody to be talking about it. It’s not like anyone who doesn’t live here can do anything about it anyway. But I talk about it. I have to talk about it. I know it’s bad in other countries. I know that the US varies from state to state in how much bullshit they’re forced to eat regularly. I know Canada has its problems and Alberta’s the worst of a bad lot. I know the situation in Ukraine, and brewing issues in Taiwan, and Argentina, and Somalia, and... You get the idea. I do not diminish any of their situations. Thing is ... sometimes I just need to talk about mine. Because honestly I don’t know what else to do.

I am femme nonbinary in a country where the gender binary is all, so I’m afraid to come out. I remain in the closet about that, and about my sexuality or lack thereof, because it doesn’t feel safe. I am disabled in a country whose health service is being deliberately eroded to encourage a sell-off and turn to an insurance-based US-ish model. I have dietary restrictions that make cheap food literally impossible for me to eat, since they thicken everything with wheat flour and the last time I did a personal gluten challenge, I ended up with an upset stomach for a month and dangerously low vitamin D levels. (I must actually have coeliac, given that one of the things coeliac does is interfere with vitamin D uptake). It is only my insane pain tolerance (which allows me to work at least part-time) and the support of my parentals that allows me to survive, and also to not completely lose my shit.

This country hates me. This country hates me and everyone like me. And the Conservative party have stacked the deck so much in their favour that I have a horrible feeling that this is only going to get worse, because they’re not going away. We’ll try - gods, how we’ll try - but when they make it so hard for those without money to vote, and have the Electoral Commission in their hands ... I struggle to see how we’re going to succeed. And with protest largely off the table, I look to the future and see riots. Then again, is that really worse than the alternative - which at the moment is apathy and terror?

I’ve talked about this as much as I can, I think. Sometimes it has to be said. It just can’t be dwelled upon either. I can’t take to the streets with a Molotov cocktail and a brick. All I can do is talk. And when it gets to the point where I feel the tears threatening, I have to step away. I am of no help to myself or anyone else if I am a sobbing ball of nervous breakdown in a corner.

Just ... if you have a spare second, please send kind thoughts to the people of the UK. It isn’t a major talking point, I know, but there are a lot of tired, angry, terrified, drained, and miserable people on this little spit of land in the North Sea. They could all probably use a virtual hug. I know I could.

[mariacallous]

Around 10 cabinet ministers including Jacob Rees-Mogg, Thérèse Coffey, Jeremy Hunt and Simon Clarke would lose their seats in a general election, according to a poll for the Trades Union Congress (TUC), which also shows voters are opposed to the removal of workers’ rights.

The poll by Opinium, using the MRP method to estimate constituency-level results, projected a 1997-style landslide for Labour, with the party winning 411 seats. It suggested the Conservatives would lose 219 seats to end up on 137, with the Liberal Democrats on 39 seats and SNP on 37. It projected vote share for Labour of 43%, Conservatives 28%, the Lib Dems 13%, Green 7%, SNP 4%.

The survey was carried out with more than 10,000 adults on 26 to 30 September – two weeks before Liz Truss scrapped large parts of her mini-budget and sacked her chancellor, Kwasi Kwarteng. Multiple polls have worsened further for the government since then.

Among those whose seats were projected to be lost by the Tories were Hunt, the new chancellor, Clarke, the levelling up secretary, Rees-Mogg, the business secretary, Coffey, the health secretary and deputy prime minister, Anne-Marie Trevelyan, the transport secretary, Chloe Smith, the work and pensions secretary, Alok Sharma, the Cop26 president, Jake Berry, the Tory party chair, and Robert Buckland, the Wales secretary.

The poll showed the previously safe Surrey seat of Kwasi Kwarteng, who was sacked as chancellor on Friday, was on a knife-edge, with 37% support for the Conservatives compared with 36% for Labour.

Boris Johnson, the former prime minister, is also on course to lose his seat, according to the poll, and the Conservatives would lose all 45 out of 45 so-called red wall seats in the north of England.

The poll also asked voters about their support for EU-derived workers’ rights, such as paid leave and limits on working times, which are under threat from the Conservatives’ legislation scrapping laws and regulations that originated in Brussels.

Overall, 71% of voters support retaining EU-derived workers’ rights such as holiday pay, safe limits on working times and rest breaks. They received overwhelming backing even in the seats of Rees-Mogg, with 72% backing, and Liz Truss, with 63% backing.

The business secretary had presented a plan to abolish laws including the 48-hour working time directive but this was sent back to the drawing board by Truss over fears it went too far, and the policy is currently being reconsidered.

The TUC, which commissioned the poll before its annual congress, warned the government it would face a significant voter backlash if it followed through on plans to rip up key workplace protections which originated from EU law.

The retained EU law bill, soon due for second reading in the Commons, will automatically scrap a swathe of worker protections at the end of 2023, unless ministers choose to retain them. Before its congress this week, which was moved from September because of the death of the Queen, the TUC said the Conservatives had shown they were “firmly on the side of bad bosses” and were “the P&O party” – a reference to the ferry company that sacked its workers without notice or consultation. Frances O’Grady, the general secretary of the organisation covering 48 trade unions representing 5.5 million workers, said: “Vital workplace protections – like holiday pay, safe limits on working hours and equal pay for women – are all at risk. “Not content with throwing the economy into turmoil, ministers now seem determined to turn the clock back on rights in the workplace. This polling is a clear repudiation of Tory attacks on workers’ rights and their slash-and-burn economics … Voters will punish [Truss] if she proceeds with these reckless plans – she must stop the chaos and ditch this damaging bill.”

Chris Curtis, the head of political polling at Opinium, said Truss had seen a backlash from voters that was more like a “nightmare than a honeymoon”.

“But elections aren’t just about national polls so our model, built on interviews with over 10,000 voters, analyses how this would play out in each of Great Britain’s 632 constituencies. The results are stark, showing that, if there were an election any time soon, a 1997-sized Labour landslide would be the most likely outcome,” he said.

“One of the main causes of the Tory poll flop is that the mini-budget is convincing voters that the party is on the side of the wealthy rather than working people. If the government want any chance of avoiding a once-in-a-generation wipeout at the next election then they need to turn this reputation around.”

[novumtimes]

Diane Abbott Row Has Not Harmed Labours Election Prospects

Keir Starmer’s handling of the row over whether Diane Abbott should be a Labour candidate has not harmed the party’s election chances, according to a new poll. The veteran left-winger was eventually confirmed as Labour’s candidate in Hackney North and Stoke Newington last Tuesday following days of internal wrangling. She was finally given back the Labour whip at the end of May, but sources close to Starmer said she would not stand for the party in the general election on July 4. After 48 hours of confusion, during which time Angela Rayner added her voice to those calling for Abbott to be allowed to stand, Starmer eventually caved in and said she was “free” to continue her 37-year parliamentary career. But despite the controversy, a Techne poll for Independent Media found that 82% of British adults said it had made “no difference” to how they will vote. While 3% said it made them more likely to vote Tory, 6% said it made them more like to back Labour. Meanwhile, just 4% said it made it more likely they will not vote at all. The findings will be a major relief for Starmer, who had come in for criticism for his handling of the row. One former Labour MP told HuffPost UK: “The campaign started well, with the Tories on the back foot and Labour in control. “The problem is that that has been seriously diminished. It now looks to voters like they’re both a shambles – and that is unforgivable. They have lost that initial momentum. They had got the Tories on the back foot and now they’ve blown it, which is deeply depressing.” A former frontbencher said: “None of this will make a difference to the election result but there is a big list of gripes and problems they are storing up for the future.” Source link via The Novum Times

[vladasafr]

“I was truly wretched and had a strong conviction on me that I should never like Joe’s trade. I had liked it once, but once was not now.”

In the novel Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, the main character Pip faces many issues like cruelty, prejudice, and social status during his childhood. However, the turning point of the book's plot is Pip's visits to Ms Havisham's home - Satis House where he encounters people who are the polar opposite of him. After getting an opportunity to compare himself and his life to others who have it easier Pip's attitude towards his own life completely changes and has many negative consequences.

Firstly, Pip gets the feeling of shame for himself for his ordinariness and poverty. It is noticeable from his quote, “I had never thought of being ashamed of my hands before; but I began to consider them a very indifferent pair.” (page 40) [1] when Estella points out Pip's coarse hands and thick boots, discomfiting him. Besides, according to social comparison theory, proposed by psychologist Leon Festinger in 1954, “people who regularly compare themselves to others may experience feelings of deep dissatisfaction, guilt, or remorse” [4] which is what has happened to Pip. He has experienced many negative emotions that can be recognized from the statement when Pip says that he had been so humiliated, hurt, spurned, offended, angry after Estella treated him like a dog in disgrace, putting his food down on the stones of the yard (page 41) [1].

Secondly, after being exposed to the life of a much higher class and Estella's disdain (who calls him a "common labouring-boy" (page 40) [1]) Pip begins to fear that she should see him as a low class. This is clear from the quote, "What I dreaded was, that in some unlucky hour, I, being at my grimiest and commonest, should lift up my eyes and see Estella looking in at one of the wooden windows of the forge. I was haunted by the fear that she would … exult over me and despise me.” (page 71) [1]. Moreover, Pip considers his and Estella's differences dramatic, using the word "common" to describe his daily life in the quote “I thought how Joe and my sister were then sitting in the kitchen, and how I had come up to bed from the kitchen, and how Miss Havisham and Estella never sat in a kitchen, but were far above the level of such common doings.” (page 48) [1].

Thirdly, Pip commences being ashamed of his loved ones' ordinariness and background, especially of Joe. Pip's reaction to Joe's visit to London illustrates the change in attitude towards him. That is highlighted in Pip's admission, "Let me confess exactly with what feelings I looked forward to Joe’s coming. Not with pleasure, though I was bound to him by so many ties; no; with considerable disturbance, some mortification, and a keen sense of incongruity." (page 140) [1]. It is evident that Pip does not long for his coming to not feel embarrassed of Joe's manners and upbringing, although earlier, before arriving in London, Pip's worst nightmare was to lose Joe's trust after stealing food for the convict which is claimed in Pip's comment, "The fear of losing Joe’s confidence … tied up my tongue." (page 27) [1].

Finally, Pip’s opinions and values of his life and himself change. All his childhood Pip had been looking forward to becoming a blacksmith, but since his visits to Ms Havisham he begins to want to become more genteel, which is comprehensible from his comment, "I enlarged upon my knowing nothing and wanting to know everything, in the hope that she (Ms Havisham) might offer some help towards that desirable end." (page 62) [1]. Furthermore, when Pip says, "I was truly wretched and had a strong conviction on me that I should never like Joe’s trade. I had liked it once, but once was not now." (page 70) [1] it becomes apparent that his early idea of his future alters completely and therefore his personality. Pip is not the boy who came to Satis House anymore as he is not satisfied with who he is. He craves more.

Having examined the fact that the novel was published in 1861 and is set in 19th-century England during the Victorian era when social status and class played one of the most significant roles in the perception of people, the distinctions between classes remain appreciable in Pip and Estella's relationships because of their dissimilar financial situations, education and opportunities since “social class is the division of a society based on social and economic status” as noted in the article “What is the Difference Between Social Status and Social Class” [3]. Besides, the same issue is described in Frank W. Abagnale's book “Catch Me If You Can: The True Story of a Real Fake” when the main character realizes that “class is universally admired. Almost any fault, sin or crime is considered more leniently if there’s a touch of class involved” [2]. This way, these completely unrelated books that were published with a difference of 119 years prove that social class is still of critical significance in the modern world.

In conclusion, meeting Ms Havisham and Estella, who show Pip an entirely different life of a higher class and point out his lower sort, brings Pip nothing good only feelings of ignominy, fear, dejection, and dissatisfaction. His views on life shift from appreciating what he has to dreaming of a reinvention which influences his character development.

 Resources:

1.       Charles Dickens “Great Expectations” https://docs.google.com/document/d/1n425TJz0FdLRsHn15a-rpXUEL8ET985OjQP6nWXniLE/edit

2.       Frank W. Abagnale. “Catch Me If You Can: The True Story of a Real Fake”. “Distinction Of Social Class Quotes: 40 of the best book quotes about distinction of social class”. Rebecca (Ed.), Jane (Ed.), and Tiffany (Ed.). “Bookroo”. Original work published in 1980.

[Retrieved from https://bookroo.com/quotes/distinction-of-social-class on February 8, 2023]

3.       Hasa (Ed.). “What is the Difference Between Social Status and Social Class”. Published March 2, 2021, “Pediaa”. [Retrieved from https://pediaa.com/what-is-the-difference-between-social-status-and-social-class/ on February 8, 2023]

4.       Psychology Today Staff. “Social Comparison Theory”. Published Aug 16, 2011. “Psychology Today”. [Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/social-comparison-theory#the-dangers-of-comparison on December 3, 2022]

[chophouse22]

Snake River Farms Wagyu Beef

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[holdmytesseract]

Almost too Late

Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Request: "okay, i've got a humourous one for you;

#48: “Where the hell have you been?”

#60: “AHHHHHHHHHH!" 

#64: “Here he/she is.”

so, maybe Tom almost misses the birth of his child, and Reader gives him absolutely chaos for it? 😂

love you, babe. 💗" - Requested by my wonderful friend @youlightmeupfinn from this prompt list! :)

Summary: You went into labour with Baby No. 2. This wouldn't be a big problem, if your husband Tom wasn't somewhere in Atlanta, on a boys night out - and you just can't reach him. Is Tom going to miss the birth of his second child?

Warnings: Pregnancy, labour, quite a few swear words and a lot of fluff!

Word Count: 2,3k

a/n: I am back, yay! :) Sorry guys, life had been utterly busy in the last few weeks... This request waited a looong time in my inbox to be written and now I finally made it to sit down and write this. Surprise, @youlightmeupfinn ! 🧡 This takes place in the same universe like this fic does, so I guess this one is kinda a part two? Anyway, I hope you like this one shot as much as I do! 🧡 All mistakes are my own!

Voicemail. Again. I hung up, groaning and cursing under my breath. "Oh, you are fucking kidding me now... Why isn't he picking up?!" I hissed, on the verge of throwing my mobile against the wall of our bedroom. I tried to reach my dear husband for hours. Tom just wanted to have a - what did they call it? A 'Marvel Mens Night Out'? Yeah, something along that. He wanted to have a night out with a few of his mates. Ben, Chris H., Chris E., Sebastian and Tom. Of course, I didn't say Tom shouldn't go. I was more than okay with it, since we were in Atlanta, Georgia for the last three months anyway. Why? Tom needed to fly to Atlanta to film the first season of 'Loki' - and me and Mia just went with him, since it was the city I came from. My parents still lived here, so we kind of combined work and holiday. After reassuring Tom a thousand times that I was going to be fine without him, he left. What I didn't think of, unfortunately, was the possibility of me, going into labour. Yup... Five years of marriage and an almost three-year-old toddler later, Tom and I were expecting baby #2. Mia was going to be a big sister - like, right now.

Once again, I tried to call Tom, but like before, I only reached his voicemail. "Where the fuck is he?!" I groaned, dropped my mobile on the bed and steadied myself against the wall, breathing through another contraction. I gave Tom a last try, before I decided to call Ben. "Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up." I mumbled to myself. Sure, I could've called my parents, but they were in bed now, with Mia hopefully sleeping deeply next room. Ben's mobile rang and rang. I was already on the verge of hanging up, but then I heard my man's best friend's voice urging to my ear. "Y/N?" "Ben! Finally! Where is Tom?! I tried to call him, but he didn't pick up." "Uh... He just left for the bathroom, I think." Ben sounded slightly tipsy - which caused me to roll my eyes. Not now, guys, not now, I thought. "Okay and where are you boys?" I could hear the others laugh and talk rather loudly in the background. "In a bar in, uh, Columbus." I frowned. "In a bar in Columbus? Columbus?? Why the fuck there?!" I only now realised that I spoke way louder than I intended to... "Is everythin' alright, Y/N? You seem a bit... tense?" That was the point when I lost my nerves. I had absolutely no time for this. Not after trying to reach them for hours! I gritted my teeth, feeling how the anger build up inside me. "Oh, I don't know, Benedict. Maybe it's because I AM IN FUCKING LABOUR SINCE HOURS AND MY HUSBAND IS UNATTAINABLE!" And suddenly there was deadly silence at the other end of the line. "You're what?" Said Ben in a small voice, almost rueful. "You heard me, Benedict." Another beat of silence passed, before I suddenly heard loud shuffling. "Boys, Y/N's in labour, we need to get Tom somehow back to Atlanta! As fast as possible!" And then everybody talked at once. 'Tom! Get Tom!' was the only sentence I understood and it came from Hemsworth. Apart from that, was everything that happened on the other line a blur, until... "Tom asks how you are feeling." Ben's voice reached me once again. "He asks how I feel? Really? I am in labour! How does he think I feel?!" Again, was the other side of the line deadly silent. "We'll be right there, I promise!" "I'll hope so! If not, I am going to cut off his balls. Tell that Thomas!" With those words, I hung up, squeezed my eyes shut as another contraction rolled over me. Somehow, this time felt even worse than last time... At least I could try to relax a bit, now that I knew that Tom was on his way. After taking deep breaths, breathing through the contraction, I called an ambulance. They came immediately, of course and took me to the hospital. I was very glad that this was not the first time for me. To have the experience and to know the procedure and what maybe could happen, helped me ease my mind a lot. Especially since Tom wasn't by my side - yet.

Thirty minutes later, I was brought to a room, had changed into the familiar hospital gown, got hooked to an CTG and was checked by the doctors. "Alright, Mrs. Hiddleston..." The friendly female doctor in the white clothes smiled at me. "Everything appears to be like it should be. You and the baby are perfectly fine - according to the circumstances." She adjusted her glasses and scribbled something onto the clipboard she held. "But you are not yet ready to deliver your baby. We have to wait a bit longer. Although, I guess not that much longer, 'cause your labour is progressing very fast." The doctor gave me another small smile. "Until then, I am afraid we have to wait and see." With these words and a last smile, she left the room, leaving only a super friendly midwife - Mary - behind. "We are going to check on you and the baby regularly. But you already know that." Mary said, winking at me. "Yeah... I am very glad to be a lot more experienced now than I was last time with my daughter. Makes me feel calmer. Despite the fact that Tom isn't here..." Mary's eyes softened. "I was already thinking... Where did you leave your husband?" I sighed. "I allowed him to go out with some of his friends, told him I was fine, but well... Baby's got different plans." Mary laughed. "Let's hope he's going to make it in time then. Call me if you need something, yes?" I nodded, offered her a smile. Then I was left alone and I absolutely hated it. To spend the time I had to wait for my body to prepare itself for the birth alone was absolute torture. I missed Tom and I wanted nothing more than to have him by my side.

It was a curse and a blessing, that labour progressed so fast. Two hours later, I found myself surrounded by nurses, doctors and Mary, of course, ready to bring mine and Tom's second child into this world. I wasn't afraid of this, no. Maybe nervous, yes, but what I definitely was, was in pain and angry. Angry at my sweet husband who didn't sit by my side, holding my hand and just being there for me. No, instead sat Mary by my bedside - what wasn't bad, god no... Bless her for bearing with me. But it just wasn't Tom... "Okay Y/N, if you feel the urge to push, give into your body!" I nodded quickly, sweat already dotted all over my forehead from the previous contractions. While you were about to bring a new life into this world, stormed a man with long, pitch black hair through the main doors of the hospital, on the other side of the big building. Tom...

The father-to-be ran down the halls of the 'Emory University Hospital Midtown' like a madman, bumping into several staff members on his way. "Sorry, I am so sorry!" Tom said what felt like thousand times in five minutes. Unfortunately was the hospital quite big and Tom struggled to even find the maternity ward. So, he had no other choice than to stop his frantic search and ask a nurse. "I'm sorry, can... can you help me?" Tom, who was still out of breath, approached a nurse with short chopped blonde hair and tattoos up and down his arms. The man looked up at Tom, offering him a polite smile. "Of course, Sir. What's the matter?" "I-I am looking for the maternity ward." He panted, trying to catch his breath. "My... My wife is in labour." The nurse nodded and immediately gestured for Tom to follow him. "Follow me, Sir. I'll get you there. It's not far from here." The two men crossed another few hallways, before they finally reached the destination. "There we are." "Thank you so much." Tom smiled kindly at the other male, who gave him a nod and a smile himself in return. "No problem." Tom didn't lose another second and jogged down the ward, on search for someone who could help him along. After all, he hadn't a single clue where Y/N was...

After he had rounded the second corner, he stumbled over a woman who appeared to be a doctor. "I'm sorry?" He addressed the female, who turned to face him immediately. "I'm Tom Hiddleston and I am looking for my wife, Y/N." The corners of the woman's mouth lifted into a smile. "Ahh, so you are the missing dad?" Tom scratched the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. "Well… I suppose that I am, yes." "Well, come on then." Tom followed the doctor hastily down the sheer endless, white hallway. "D-Do you know by any chance how my wife is doing?" Dr. Miller -  the woman's name, how Tom was able to read on her nameplate, nodded. "She is doing fine. Labour progressed very fast." At those words, Tom felt his heart sink. Progressed? Did that mean...? Dr. Miller seemed to read from his expression what he was thinking. "Don't worry. You didn't miss the birth of your baby - yet." This took a load off Tom's mind and he breathed out relieved. "This way." They turned another corner and came to a halt in front of a closed door. "There we are." After Tom quickly slipped into a scrub, he was granted access to his wife. Barely after the door swung open, was the first thing he heard a heart-breaking scream, coming no doubt from Y/N. It caused Tom's mind to spin, his guilty conscience immediately spoke up. This was his wife, being in pain, bringing his baby into this world - and he hadn't been there for her. "Mrs. Hiddleston, I found the missing dad." A voice suddenly cut through the room, causing my head to turn to the left. I didn't even notice that somebody had entered the room. Well, I was quite a bit too busy to pay attention to who entered or left the room. My eyes met the female doctor I had shortly seen earlier and- "Tom!" I cried out his name, unbelievably happy and relieved to see him. As his name left my lips, he immediately jumped into action, rushing to my side. "Darling!" Mary quickly stood up from the chair and made way for Tom. He sat down on the chair, hands instantly reaching for my hand. He wanted to say something, but the next contraction I had threw a wrench in the works. I squeezed the living hell out of Tom's hand and shut my eyes. "I need you to push, Y/N." Said the nurse, who sat at the bottom of the bed. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" This contraction was by far the worst I had yet. And it sparked something inside me, brought the anger on my husband back to life. After I had breathed through the contraction, I unleashed hell on Tom. I turned my head towards him, staring at him. If looks could kill... Tom swallowed visibly, well aware of what was to come. "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" "Darling, I-I am so s-sorry, I-" He stuttered, trying to explain. "Shut the fuck up, Thomas! I suffered here for over two hours, plus almost five at home alone, to give birth to your child and Mr. Hiddleston just decided to not pick up his phone when I called him!" Tom swallowed once again, his mind reeling. I could tell that he was picking his next words very carefully now. "I know, my love and I am really, honestly very sorry. My phone ran out of battery-" Wrong words. "That is no excuse, Thomas!" The man beside me flinched every time I used his full name. "I know, Y/N. I should've told you. I-" "And why Columbus?! Why did you and the boys needed to go to fucking Columbus to drink a stupid beer?!" Tom sighed and hung his head. "I can't apologise enough, darling. I deserve all your wrath. I hate that I wasn't able to be by your side, but now I am here and I won't go anywhere. You are doing so wonderfully in bringing our second wonder into this world. I can't be prouder of you, my love." By now, I had tears in my eyes. This time not from the pain. His words had pulled at my heartstrings. Why did that man always find the right words and was so utterly charming? This wasn't fair. I wanted to be mad at him... "Ugh, you fucking sweet-talker. I wanted to be mad at you, but now I can't." I said, pouting. Tom's expression shifted immediately and he snorted out a laugh. "Oh darling, I love you." I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but smiled.

The rest of the birth went rather smooth. Unlike with Mia, I didn't have an epidural. I wanted to do this all natural this time. With Tom by my side, everything was easier anyway. And so, Tom and I were able to welcome another baby girl into the world, only an hour later.

"Here she is." Mary announced, smiling and placed the tiny girl, who was wrapped up in a thick pink blanket on my chest. As soon as my skin came into contact with my new-born baby, the tears started to fall freely. "Hello, my sweet girl..." I whispered, unable to tear my gaze away from her. I felt how Tom pressed a kiss on my forehead, before his bigger hand joined mine, wrapped around the little girl in my arms. Time seemed to stop. This was a moment just between Tom and me. "Welcome to this big, wondrous world, Lily." Tom said with tears glistening in his eyes.

[sequinsmile-x]

hand holding #1 and kisses 48 please for your celebration!!! i love you soooo much! ❤️❤️ congratulations on 500!! 🥰 MUAH!

I LOVE YOU TOO!!! <3

I really hope you like this!!

-x-

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Pregnancy and labour

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She’d never felt pain like it. 

She was sure her body had been pushed to its limit before. Her recovery from what Ian had done to her was brutal. She’d learnt to walk again, her core strength reduced to nothing. Months and months of physical therapy. Exhaustion ran down to her very core, and most of her early days in Paris were spent sleeping, wishing she was anywhere other than where she was. 

Those days, she was now realising, were a walk in the park in comparison to this. 

The baby was coming early. Five whole weeks earlier than she should be, and the fear that gripped her chest, making her breathless, almost matched the contractions that were rolling through her body. Relentless in their nature, making her cry out in a way she didn’t know she could. 

She grimaces as the midwife examines her and she squeezes the hand that had been wrapped in hers for hours now.

“Ok, Emily,” the midwife says, smiling kindly at her as she stands up straight, “You’re fully dilated so it’s time for you to start pushing.” 

She whimpers, something she would later deny, and she shakes her head, “No, I can’t be. Aaron isn’t here yet,” she looks at Penelope, her eyes meeting her friends that were full of sympathy, “I need Aaron.” 

The baby was coming early. And whilst Emily was grounded now, Aaron was still travelling with the team to go away on cases. He was in Ohio, hours away from her and their daughter who was apparently a little too keen to be born. Penelope hadn’t left her side, and had refused to go anywhere after Emily went into labour in her office. 

“I spoke to him about 30 minutes ago, Em,” Penelope says, squeezing her hand, “He’s trying his best to get here as quickly as he can.” 

“See,” Emily says slightly desperately, turning to look at the midwife, “We can wait, he’s on his way.” 

The midwife places her hand on Emily’s leg and her smile somehow gets kinder. Emily groans as another contraction rolls through her, her eyes screwing shut as she waits for it to pass, even though she knows the next one will be chasing right after it.

“Emily,” the midwife says, “You need to do what is safest for you and your baby,” she says gently, “And right now that is getting your baby delivered, her dad can meet her as soon as he gets here, and he’ll have a whole lifetime to spend with her. Ok?”

Emily cries, and she hates it. Hates that she’s as afraid as she is, that her husband, the one person who could truly calm her down, isn’t here. She places her hand on her bump, her skin drum tight over her daughter, and she blows out a steady breath before she nods. 

“Ok,” she says, “Let's do this.” 

__

He’s sure he’s never driven so quickly in his life. 

He’s grateful for Penelope, for the frequent updates, and idly thinks to himself that he owes her a raise after this. Or a vacation for as long as she wanted. 

It had been a long time since he’d felt panic like he had when Emily had called him only a few hours earlier. Her voice strained as she explained to him that she was in labour, that her waters had broken on Penelope’s office floor and she was going to the hospital. Emily was clearly trying to keep calm for him, to soothe the fears she’d no doubt know he’d immediately have. 

He curses himself for leaving her, and clenches his teeth as he remembers kissing her on the forehead before he left the bullpen just two days ago. A promise against her skin that after this case he’d stay behind, that he’d be by her side until their daughter came.

And now he might miss it all.

He barely waits for the car to be turned off when he jumps out of it, flashing his badge at the security guard who yells at him that he can’t park there. He doesn’t care if his car gets towed, or even if he never sees the damn thing again, he just wants to get to his wife.

He isn’t even close to polite as he demands to be shown to her room, the nurse at the front desk staring at him with slightly wide eyes as she points him in the right direction. He comes to a grinding halt as he spots Penelope in the hallway, fear briefly gripping his body as he walks towards her.

“Garcia…”

“Bossman!” She exclaims, a smile on her face as she pulls him into a hug, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “You made it!” 

“Is everything ok?” He asks, pulling back, his heart hammering in her chest, “Is…”

“Everything is perfect,” Penelope replies,” squeezing his arm, “She asked to be alone for a little while, but I have a feeling that doesn’t include you.” 

It’s confirmation that both delights him and scares him. He’d missed it, but they were both ok. A mixture of joy and sorrow that he hadn’t anticipated mixing in his stomach. 

He nods, and walks towards the door she directs him to, pausing as his hand is on the door handle when Penelope says his name.

“Hotch,” she says, clearing her throat as she corrects herself, “Aaron, congratulations.” 

He smiles at her and takes a deep breath before he walks into Emily’s room. As soon as he spots her it’s like nothing else exists, and he finds himself frozen to the spot as the door closes behind him. 

She’s never looked more beautiful. She’s tired, he can see that from across the room, and her hair is tied up in a braid so intricate he’s sure Penelope must have done it for her. Her smile is as wide as he’s ever seen it, and she's looking down at a tiny bundle in her arms, the smallest hand he’s ever seen wrapped around one of her fingers. 

“Look, sweet girl,” she whispers. She doesn’t look up at him, but her smile gets impossibly wider, “Daddy’s here. I told you he’d be here soon.” 

It’s all he needs to make it across the room, his breath catching in his chest as he looks down at his daughter. 

“She’s beautiful,” he chokes out, reaching out to touch her, his fingers trailing over her soft hair, “She’s so small.” 

“5lbs 7oz,” Emily says looking up at him, her eyes shining with pride she rarely allowed herself to feel. She smiles at him, “Hi.” 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, settling on the edge of her bed, his guilt for not being here almost overwhelming him as the adrenaline of getting her stars to wear off, “I am so so sorry I wasn’t here. I never should have gone, and I got here as quickly as I could. I even used the blue lights-”

She leans in to kiss him, her lips soft against his as she stops any further apologies. She didn’t need them, nor did she want to hear them. He was here now and that was what mattered. 

“It’s ok, honey,” she says as she kisses him once more before she pulls back. They both know they’ll talk about it more, that she can’t undo his guilt with three words any more than he can undo that she went through labour without him with apologies, but for now, they were both content to bask in the joy of their new baby, “Do you want to hold her?” 

He doesn’t need asking twice and gently takes the newborn from her, marvelling as she feels like she weighs almost nothing in his arms. Emily settles her head against his shoulder, her eyes fixed on their daughter's face. 

“She’s ok?” He asks, staring down at his little girl, “There weren’t any complications because she’s so early?”

Emily shakes her head against him, “She’s ok. They’ll keep her here for a little while though, just to be sure.” 

“I’ll stay with her,” he promises, and it makes her smile, her lips pressing into his suit jacket, “That way you can get some rest if you get sent home before her.” 

She knows there is no way she is leaving her baby, but she lets it slide for now, “I think we’re definitely going to have to use Penelope as a middle name.” 

He chuckles and turns his head to kiss the top of hers, “Definitely. But we’ll have to come up with something short for her first name, otherwise, she’ll hate us forever.” 

She hums in response, and they lapse into a brief silence, the only noise in the room the soft sounds of their daughter breathing.

“Aaron?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks, still staring at his little girl's perfect face. 

“Next time we do this, you’re grounded the second I am, ok?” 

-x-

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[lost-between-letters]

On My Doorstep

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 807

Summary: Dean surprises her with his presence. Pure fluff

A/N: I promise, I haven't forgotten the requests, but I couldn't just let valentine's Day pass without posting something, right? We're not talking about the exam tomorrow that I should be getting sleep for either

The damned laundry basket was grinning at her. Y/N could feel it from over where she was plugging in her phone to start the music.

Unfortunately, the mocking piece of household article was containing her favourite jeans and quite a few of Dean's flannels that he had asked about weeks ago. Y/N had to sacrifice herself. She would do the laundry now.

The shrill ring of the doorbell stopped her from picking up the first shirt.

What a shame.

Humming to the tune of the old Fleetwood Mac song, Y/N went to the front of her apartment.

"Sorry Mrs. Bryce," she started before she had even opened the door completely, expecting the older lady from next door. Her cat got lost quite often and had sneaked into Y/N's apartment a few times now, "I haven't seen -"

It was in fact not Mrs. Bryce behind the door.

No, it was Dean who was leaning against the frame confidently, a single red rose in his hand and a little smile dancing around the corners of his mouth. "Hello to you too, Sweetheart."

"Dean!" She wasn't squealing, she was ... excitedly greeting her boyfriend.

The boyfriend in question was really not good at hiding his laughter. Though Dean was doing his very best at scrunching his face up in mock pain at her high voice, the chuckle escaped his mouth still.

At least until Y/N had all but jumped into his arms and hugged him enthusiastically. "You're here! Weren't you supposed to be hunting a ghoul in Colorado?"

"Done already," he shrugged, "thought I'd come and visit my girl. You tryin' to get rid of me?"

"Absolutely not," Y/N shook her head decidedly and then grabbed his sleeve to pull him inside, "would it kill you to speak in full sentences?"

"Don't wanna risk it." Dean was in the best mood she had seen him in in a long time.

Though his eyes were dropping slightly and his steps were slow as if he had been on his feet for at least 48 hours, the smile never left his face. This was a rare occurrence nowadays and Y/N cherished every moment that she was happy enough to witness this.

While Y/N was raiding her fridge for the leftovers (Dean had made the mistake of telling her how much bad diner food he stuffed himself with), Dean had followed her and filled up a glass with water.

"Gotta admit Sweetheart, I'd expected a little more attention to the rose," he commented as he put the makeshift vase on the table.

Y/N just rolled her eyes and pushed a plate into his hands. "Send it with the post next time then. You were standing right there, as if I'd ignore you in favour of a flower."

"Strong words from a woman that hasn't even kissed me yet."

Oh hell no. She could see the smirk in his eyes and could hear the tease in the words but if Dean wanted to play bait, Y/N would certainly jump into the trap. Especially with this kind of prize to win.

Dean had barely time to put the plate down again before he found himself crowded against the counter, Y/N grinning up at him, her hands locked behind his neck.

"Hey there," he was still grinning cockily, his hands coming up to rest on her hips.

That was enough for her patience to run out. With a firm pull, Y/N had closed the distance between them.

The kiss was much like Dean himself, impatient, a little wild, messy even and everything Y/N defined as home. The pressure of his lips was light and stretched out from the smile that was still lingering where his hands were holding onto her more decidedly as if he was assuring himself of the reality of this moment. Y/N understood the sentiment so she pushed closer, pushed the kiss to be deeper, pushed every other thought out of his mind.

By the time, Dean pulled back, both of their breathing was laboured, lips swollen, hands tangled into the clothing of the other.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she knew that she was grinning like a satisfied cat lying in the sun but she couldn't really help it.

Another tease was sitting on the tip of her tongue when Dean leaned down and stole it right from her lips. "Don't you dare, or I swear I'm leaving."

"Trust me, you aren't," Y/N stated and tugged at the back of his shirt again. Now that she had him here, she wasn't letting go so fast. The night was young and she had some very convincing arguments to keep him from leaving her bed for the foreseeable future.

"I guess you have to convince me then," Dean said, millimetres from her lips, the challenge clear in his voice.

Y/N smirked and closed the gap.

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