#there’s only four (4) genders in the world and he has three (3)

[redbullgivesyouwingedkuriboh]

two genders? wrong. there’s one gender and it’s seto kaiba’s. you can’t have it. he owns everything.

#yugioh #seto kaiba #kaiba seto #kaiba steals gender like it’s a blue eyes white dragon card #there’s only four (4) genders in the world and he has three (3) #he ripped the fourth one in half.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - May 15, 2023

🐕 - Now It's a Paw-ty

1. World's oldest ever dog celebrates 31st birthday

Bobi was born on 11 May 1992, making him 31 years old, in human years. A big birthday party is planned for Bobi today, according to Guinness World Records.

It will take place at his home in the rural Portuguese village of Conqueiros in Leiria, western Portugal, where he has lived his entire life.

2. The FDA has officially changed its policy to allow more gay and bisexual men to donate blood

The Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has announced that they’ve eased restrictions on blood donations by men who have sex with men in an effort to address blood shortages. The new policy recommends a series of individual risk-based questions that will apply to all donors, regardless of their sexual orientation, sex, or gender. Gay or bisexual men in monogamous relationships will now be permitted to donate blood.

3. Illinois passes bill to ensure community college credits transfer to public universities

The Illinois General Assembly has passed a bill that would help community college students transfer to public universities.

It would ensure that certain classes taken at community colleges could be transferred to any higher education institution in the state. Some schools currently only count community college coursework as elective credits.

4. Brazilian President Lula recognizes 6 new indigenous territories stretching 620,000 hectares, banning mining and restricting farming within them

Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva has decreed six new indigenous reserves, banning mining and restricting commercial farming there. The lands - including a vast area of Amazon rainforest - cover about 620,000 hectares (1.5m acres).

Indigenous leaders welcomed the move, but said more areas needed protection.

5. More than 1,000 trafficking victims rescued in separate operations in Southeast Asia

More than 1,000 trafficking victims were rescued in separate operations in Southeast Asia over the last week, officials in Indonesia and the Philippines said. 

Indonesian officials said Sunday they freed 20 of their nationals who were trafficked to Myanmar as part of a cyber scam, amid an increase in human trafficking cases in Southeast Asia. Fake recruiters had offered the Indonesians high-paying jobs in Thailand but instead trafficked them to Myawaddy, about 567 kilometers (352 miles) south of Naypyidaw, the capital, to perform cyber scams for crypto websites or apps, said Judha Nugraha, an official in Indonesia's Foreign Affairs Ministry.

6. A peanut allergy patch is making headway in trials

An experimental “peanut patch” is showing some promise for toddlers who are highly allergic to peanuts. The patch, called Viaskin, was tested on children ages one to three for a late-stage trial, and the results show that the patch helped children whose bodies could not tolerate even a small piece of peanuts safely eat a few.

After one year, two-thirds of the children who used the patch and one-third of the placebo group met the trial’s primary endpoint. The participants with a less sensitive peanut allergy could safely tolerate the peanut protein equivalent of eating three or four peanuts.

7. Critically endangered lemur born at Calgary Zoo

The Calgary Zoo has released pictures of its newest addition, a baby lemur. The zoo says its four-year-old female black-and-white ruffed lemur, Eny, gave birth on April 7. The pup’s father is eight-year-old Menabe. The gender of the pup has not been confirmed but the Calgary Zoo says the pup appears bright-eyed and active and is on the move.

The black-and-white ruffed lemur is registered among the 25 most endangered primates in the world, due mostly to habitat loss and hunting.

----

That's it for this week :)

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#best news of last week

[space-writes]

hello (again) writeblr! i decided to make a new intro that has all my current wips on it, since i have way more than when i first started out on here.

about me

I go by Space, my pronouns are they/he, and I’m in my third decade of existence, which is absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for most of it, so I like to think I’m pretty decent

I write mostly fantasy and erotica (sometimes at the same time), both original and fanfiction, and all of it's queer

You can find my work on my AO3 here, crossposted to my neocities here, and under my snippets tag

I’m open to tag and ask games, and my inbox is currently open to anything as well. I don’t always reply the fastest, but I’ll get to it eventually! (I don’t take part in chain asks, so please don’t send me them)

I use obsidian.md for all my writing, and it’s my favourite notes app ever, so I also talk about that occasionally. The tag for it is here, and I’m hoping to write some more showcases/tutorials this year!

my main goal is to actually finish some damn books and also to inflict my OC brainrot upon people. so far the second one is the only thing that’s actually happened, but i live in hope

My current wips are Chronicles of Valloroth (Renegade Prince being book one), Obedience, Obsession, and claws—summaries and links for all four are under the cut!

this is my writing sideblog, you can find my main @thespacelizard, and i follow/like from there

tag directory is here

current wips

Chronicles of Valloroth

⚔ Genre: Fantasy Adventure

⚔ Features: Queer cast, found family, A Whole Entire Dragon, magical mishaps, The Mere Concept of Doing The Right Thing, a grumpy assassin, a sparkly mercenary, knock-off tieflings, a handsome prince (he’s gay), more banter than your average dungeons and dragons campaign

⚔ Status: Book One: First draft completed, re-drafting in-progress || Books Two & Three: outlined

⚔ One Sentence Summary (Book One): A runaway prince seeks freedom in a new world and must find a way to convince a rag-tag group to defeat an ancient dragon, all whilst he is being hunted by a band of mercenaries and an infamous assassin.

⚔ Series Tag: valloroth blogging

claws

🩸 Genre: Queer Horror

🩸 Features: teacher/student relationship (university edition), toxic romance, gender fuckery, broken identity, demonology, murder, self-harm, obsession, stalking, infidelity, a lot of blood, pact-based magic system, corruption, jealousy, eldritch entities, love is a wound, body horror, attempted suicide, and a little bit of arachnophilia

🩸 Status: First draft complete!

🩸 One Sentence Summary: A young student’s obsession with his demonology teacher sparks a twisted romance that draws him to the limits of his humanity—and into the web of an eldritch horror.

🩸 Series Tag: wip: claws

Obedience

💜 Genre: Erotic Romance, D&D fanfiction (original characters, Forgotten Realms setting & loose 5E ruleset)

💜 Features: a variety of BDSM scenarios, one closed off wizard dom, one enthusiastic nerdy sub, weird uses for dnd spells, a painful amount of pining, somehow; worldbuilding, emotional slow burn, as much self indulgence as I can possibly fit in a fanfic series

💜 Status: Arcs 1-3 are complete (read on AO3 here, or my neocities here). The first book of Arc 4, The Perils of Wanting is currently in edits. The second book of Arc 4, as yet untitled, is on its second draft.

💜 One Sentence Summary: A D/s M/M series featuring two wizard boys, the kinky magic they get up to, and the feelings they definitely don’t have for each other.

💜 Series Tag: obedience fic blogging (it began on my main, so the tag there has more snippets)

Obsession

🕷 Genre: War of the Spider Queen/Forgotten Realms fanfiction, also Erotica, Horror and a smidge of Dark Romance

🕷 Features: OC/canon, a nightmare transmasc wizard boy, obsession, stalking, jealousy, violent impulses, dubious consent, possessiveness, evil gender dysphoria, incest, gore, the inherent horror of Having a Body, and occasionally actual school things happening at Sorcere

🕷 Status: Ongoing serial, which you can read on AO3 here, or my neocities here

🕷 One Sentence Summary: Pharaun Mizzrym is everything to Vizaeth Thaezyr. He’ll do anything for him—even if Pharaun doesn’t know it yet.

🕷 Series Tag: obsession fic blogging (it also began on my main, so check the tag there for additional content!)

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #writeblr reintro #writing community #writing #writers on tumblr #writers #i did it i remade the intro! #everyone cheer and clap for me #anyway hello to all the people who've joined me here since i started! #thanks for listening to me incessantly post about my blorbos

[sroloc--elbisivni]

Rating the Nonsense* I found doing queer historiography research

back in 2020 I was doing a project on queer historiography prior to the queer liberation movement. Since I needed a bunch of sources, my four criteria were:

had to be accessible online (early days of the pandemic)

had to be in English

had to have been identified by another researcher or archive as queer (because i didn't have time to make arguments for every single piece of evidence)

had to be from before 1969

so, as you can imagine, I found some wild stuff. I put this together for a powerpoint party last year and now I am sharing it with the world. enjoy. includes some nsfw text.

THREE CRITERIA RATING SCALE:

"Just Saying Shit" aka wow you didn't have to cite your sources at all did you "Sure?" aka I'll go ahead and integrate that into my belief system "Creativity" aka this FUCKS

*all of this nonsense is from the non-fiction. we're not getting into the Victorian 'girdle of cunts' gangbang erotica.

EXHIBIT 1: "The Chimp," ONE Magazine, 1954. Part of a series of cartoons satirizing gay bar attendees. Ink cartoon of a chimpanzee wearing glasses sitting on a chair, martini glass held by prehensile toes. One hand is holding a cigarette and the other hand is gesturing. Caption reads "For instance, in ancient Greece, it was considered the highest form of..."

Just Saying Shit: 2/10 I fully believe the artist absolutely knew a bunch of people like this, try harder. We are just getting started. Sure?: 2/10 they just don't make 'em like this anymore Creativity: 8/10 haha fursonas in the 50s

EXHIBIT 2: Gordon Rattray Taylor, part 1. Book quote reading "According to some accounts, the Devil is equipped with a forked penis so that he can commit both buggery and fornication at the same time."

there was a book about ‘the multiple roots of homosexuality’ and if I did the whole thing we’d be here all day. This guy wrote a chapter. 

Just Saying Shit: 4/10, he’s quoting other sources but props for making it sound like it’s a factual thing about the Devil as a real person who exists. An extra point for not actually citing these sources. Sure?: 7/10 I hear hemipenes are a kink according to the scalies Creativity: 1/10 for Rattray Taylor who was quoting this but 9/10 for the original postulators.

EXHIBIT 3: Gordon Rattray Taylor, part 2. Book quote reading "As I have sought to show elsewhere (Rattray Taylor, 1954; Rattray Taylor, 1958), in societies that conceive of their deities as mother-figures, incest is regarded as the overwhelming danger and is hedged with taboos, whereas homosexuality has little importance. Conversely, in societies that conceive of their deities as father-figures, homosexuality is regarded as the overwhelming danger and is surrounded with taboos and condemnation; incest may also be tabooed but it falls far behind homosexuality in importance. I have proposed the terms matrist and patrist for those too patterns. (I do not regard "matriarchy" and "patriarchy" as satisfactory, for reasons that need not concern us here.)

Just Saying Shit: 8/10 now THAT’S what I’m talking about!! Hit me with your nonsense theories. Classic anthropology right here. Sure?: 3/10 I will regurgitate this occasionally but only because it’s kind of funny Creativity: 2/10 you did it! You broke gender essentialism down to its bare essentials and added gods!

EXHIBIT 4: Gordon Rattray Taylor, part 3. Book quote reading "The Acta Sanctorum includes accounts of "Brother Marinos," whom the other monks supposed to be a eunuch from his voice and beardlessness, who was even accused of seducing a local girl, and who turned out at death to be female; of frater Pelagius monachus et eunuchus, also a girl; of Marina, Margarita, and others. Other Instances noted by Delcourt (1961) include Athanasia of Antioch, Eugenia of Alexandria, Apollinaria, Papula of Gaul, and Hildegonde of Neuss."

Honestly i just put this one in here because it’s neat. Trans* rights.

Just Saying Shit: 0/10 you have actually clearly named your sources for once Sure?: 10/10 hey can we talk about ‘eunuch’ as not only a codified transgressive gender role but also as the rare gender&sexuality thing we can clearly translate across multiple societies– Creativity: 5/10 for not just stopping with Joan of Arc like 90% of ‘cross-dressing in the church!’ stuff

EXAMPLE 5: Edward Prime-Stevenson, part 1. Book quote reading "Of a prevalence of female similisexualism we have no historic record, but its existence is beyond doubt. Earliest legislation took little or no control of the similisexual impulses and habits. In Egypt there seems to have been no period when men were not accustomed to give free course, as by natural right, to the passion. In all dynasties, in all classes, in the army, the priesthood, in civil life, it was well-known."

Love this bastard. He wrote a 600 page book all by his damn self in 1911 and cited absolutely nothing.

Just Saying Shit: 9/10 THIS is what we’re here for. All of Egypt was gay Because I Say So Sure?: 8/10 I will believe this as a treat for me Creativity: 4/10 this fucks but points off for using it to argue the Torah is homophobic

EXAMPLE 6: Edward Prime-Stevenson, part 2. Book quote reading "The "Sexual Germ" in Friendships. Meantime, however displeasing to the reader, let it be affirmed that all real friendships between men have a sexual germ."

BEHOLD MY MOST ABSOLUTE FAVORITE QUOTE I PUT IN MY THESIS

Just Saying Shit: 12/10 absolute madlad fucking love it Sure?: 5/10 torn between ‘I want to believe’ and ‘dude i think that might just be you’ Creativity: 7/10 because I love it. The shippers were right.

EXAMPLE 7: Edward Prime-Stevenson, part 3. Book quote reading "Socrates was similsexual. Not readily can we dismiss the idea that Christ was such--and saints may have been Uranians."

Just Saying Shit: 9/10. Look at him go. Elaborate on that??? (P-S: no.) (that’s a lie he goes on other places to explain his ship manifesto for Christ and John the Baptist) (CATHOLICS IN THE AUDIENCE DO NOT @ ME I KNOW THEY'RE COUSINS. ARGUE WITH THE DEAD GUY.) Sure?: 9/10 we’ve all seen Jesus Christ Superstar (1973) Creativity: 3/10 again. we’ve all seen Jesus Christ Superstar (1973)

EXAMPLE 8: Edward Prime-Stevenson, part 4. Book quote reading "The Instant Hostility of the Roman Church; and of Mariolatry. This was not all. For the sentiment hostile to similisexual love, bent on making it the most depraved of instincts, increased just as the Catholic Church exaggerated its respect for the humble mother of the Redeemer. The new Faith made the worship of the Feminine-Abstract, the Blessed Lady the Immaculate Version, a mysterious, strenuous cult; even to displacing by it the just adoration of Christ. Woman, as typified by the Virgin, was held up as the ideal of the world-heart. Mariolatry, the fine flower of feminine concepts became the special policy of the Roman Church, in shrewd concession to human, aesthetic impulses, and in a perpetual combat of male sexualism. Just as Christianity had darkened existence with the gloom and gore of the cross, so the sentiment of Mary worship was to effeminize the social and sexual life of the male."

Was I just supposed to leave out him calling the entire Roman Catholic Church emasculated. 

Just Saying Shit: 7/10 because he thinks he’s making a reasonable argument here Sure?: 4/10 my dude did you try to seduce a guy only for him to wax eloquent about the Virgin Mary Creativity: 2/10 I feel like this is just misogyny. Sorry people aren’t making religious statues of who you find hot

EXAMPLE 9: Walt Whitman's Anomaly--WC Rivers. Book quote reading "What really attracted him about manual labour was the picturesque male images it called up. "To be lean'd and to lean on," is quite an unfatiguing use of the seven-pound felling axe. Then there is his robust aspect. President Lincoln's exclamation on first seeing him-- "Well, he looks like a MAN!" --is much quoted by biographers."

Love this pamphlet. Just a dude in the 1910s going ‘I think Whitman was gay!’ with genuine delight and surprise. He a little confused but he got the spirit.

Just Saying Shit: 4/10 this is a very well documented quote but what a way to use it Sure?: 12/10 HEY ABE?? HEY ABE LINCOLN?? THIS IS UP THERE AS ONE OF THE GAYEST THINGS YOU EVER SAID Creativity: 7/10 for the circumstances in which this quote was employed namely in a chapter about possible objections to Whitman being gay 

FINAL TALLY

-God I love history

-why can’t I Just Say Shit

-Go read Shel Silverstein’s Fire Island Playboy cartoons

#queer history #historyish #my research #i don't think i have a tag. uhhhh #thesis or death #there's some other stuff in there

[lovesongbracket]

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Your Song

Written By: Elton John & Bernie Taupin

Artist: Elton John

Released: 1970

The song was composed and performed by Elton John but the lyrics were written by Bernie Taupin. It originally appeared in his self titled and second album. Elton John hadn’t come out of the closet yet, but Bernie Taupin knew, which is part of the reason why the lyrics avoid using gendered pronouns. In a 2013 interview with Rolling Stone, Elton John said: “What can I say, it’s a perfect song. It gets better every time I sing it. I remember writing it at my parents' apartment in North London, and Bernie giving me the lyrics, sitting down at the piano and looking at it and going, ‘Oh, my God, this is such a great lyric, I can’t fuck this one up.’ It came out in about 20 minutes, and when I was done, I called him in and we both knew. I was 22, and he was 19, and it gave us so much confidence. ‘Empty Sky’ was lovely, but it was very naive. We went on to do more esoteric stuff like ‘Take Me to the Pilot,’ of course, but musically, this was a big step forward. And the older I get, the more I sing these lyrics, and the more they resonate with me.”

[Verse 1] It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside I'm not one of those who can easily hide I don't have much money, but boy if I did I'd buy a big house where we both could live [Verse 2] If I was a sculptor, heh, but then again, no Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do My gift is my song and this one's for you [Chorus] And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world [Verse 3] I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss Well, a few of the verses, well, they've got me quite cross But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song It's for people like you that keep it turned on [Verse 4] So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen [Chorus] And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world [Outro] I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world

She Will Be Loved

Written By: Adam Levine & James Valentine

Artist: Maroon 5

Released: 2002

“She Will Be Loved” is the third single released from the band’s 2002 debut album, Songs About Jane. The song peaked at number five in the US (becoming their second top ten there), number four in the United Kingdom and number one in Australia (for five consecutive weeks). As of June 2014, the song has sold more than three million copies in the United States.

[Verse 1] Beauty queen of only eighteen She had some trouble with herself He was always there to help her She always belonged to someone else [Pre-Chorus] I drove for miles and miles And wound up at your door I've had you so many times But somehow, I want more [Chorus] I don't mind spending every day Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay a while [Post-Chorus] And she will be loved And she will be loved [Verse 2] Tap on my window, knock on my door, I Want to make you feel beautiful I know I tend to get so insecure Doesn't matter anymore [Pre-Chorus] It's not always rainbows and butterflies It's compromise that moves us along, yeah My heart is full and my door's always open You come any time you want, yeah [Chorus] I don't mind spending every day Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay a while [Post-Chorus] And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved [Bridge] I know where you hide Alone in your car Know all of the things that make you who you are I know that goodbye means nothing at all Comes back and makes me catch her Every time she falls, yeah [Pre-Chorus] Tap on my window, knock on my door, I Want to make you feel beautiful [Chorus] I don't mind spending every day Out on your corner in the pouring rain, oh Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay a while [Post-Chorus] And she will be loved And she will be loved And she will be loved (Please don't try so hard to say goodbye) And she will be loved [Outro] Please don't try so hard to say goodbye (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh) Please don't try so hard to say goodbye (I don't mind spending every day, ooh) (Out on your corner in the pouring rain) Please don't try so hard to say goodbye

#elton john #bernie taupin #maroon 5 #she will be loved #polls #poll tournament #poll bracket #tournament #bracket #lovesongbracket #round1

[lizethvillavicencio]

My current hyperfixation is Lab Rats.

Not the animal, but the show. You know the one. Leo Dooley has just moved in with his Step-Dad, Donald Davenport, and discovers a secret lab in the basement, where he finds three kids with incredible powers that they call Bionics. He forms a bond with them and brings them out to the normal world for the first time in their lives, which sets up four seasons of wild shenanigans, villains, and self discovery.

And a constant laugh track.

I always thought that Lab Rats had such an amazing concept. The idea that someone made three regular people super with advanced technology, leaving room for morals about self identity and family along the way; I eat crap like this up every time. But Lab Rats was very limited in what it could do because it was a Disney Sitcom. There was no room for character growth that lasted more than an episode or discussions about the trauma that would come with being raised by a narcissist in a lab, never knowing the light of day until your late teens. The neurodivergent and queer coding was never brought up, and just over all, darker themes could not be explored.

So, Tumblr, I've decided to pull a Thanos and do it myself.

I want to make a story about what the show couldn't. I want to write about how the Davenports' relationship will be effected after they meet other people and learn what normal family dynamics are like. I want to write about Donald's emotional neglect and narcissism and how this would be the main key towards Douglas' redemption. I want to write about Adam, Bree, and Chase, exploring their genders, sexualities, masculinity and femininity. But, most of all, I want Donald Davenport to face consequences for his actions.

You may be asking, "Person, why announce this to Tumblr when you can just post the story to Ao3 and/or Wattpad and be done with it?"

Because I wanted to ask the people what they want.

This story isn't just self indulgence, it's for the fandom, whom has already done so much to add more depth to the Lab Rats world. So, I want to know what you want to see. Here is what I have planned to add so far:

1. Chase has D.I.D

I am a firm believer that Spike isn't just some Bionic that Douglas gave Chase. I believe that because of the practically endless trauma that Chase has gone through(going on missions to save the world and Adam's abuse) he developed a D.I.D. system and Spike is the protector. I know that people with D.I.D. usually have multiple alters, but it's not impossible to only have one. Or I may add more. Let me know what you think.

2. Adam, Bree, and Chase are triplets.

They still have the same birth order, they're just triplets now.

3. The main three have less bionics

Oh my god, these kids are so overpowered. To help fill some plot holes, here are the bionics they're going to have:

Adam: Super Strength(his limit is a ton)

Super Durability

Heat Vision

Blast Wave(but he becomes

incredibly exhausted after using it,

so he saves it for emergencies)

Bree: Super Speed(her highest speed is

70 mph, but she becomes

incredibly exhausted after using it),

Super Durability

Super Agility

Invisibility

Vocal Manipulation

Chase: Super Intelligence

Super Durability

Force Field

Laser Bo

4. Douglas has more kids

I'm planning on making Daniel WAY more involved in the plot and Douglas having another daughter. I don't have a name for her yet, so I'm gonna call her E for now. My plan is that after Adam, Bree, and Chase are taken from him, Douglas and Krane just relocate and make more kids. Daniel and E are definitely going to be there, but I might add more. Daniel's bionics are going to stay the same, and I'm deciding between giving E geo-leaping or molecularkinesis. The main purpose for the two of them is to further the I-Am-Your-Father arc, as I like to call it, and to open up new perspectives on Douglas as a father figure.

5. Douglas and Krane are/were in a relationship

Every scene with them is just them being an old married couple.

6. Mighty Med and Lab Rats existing in the same universe is a lot bigger to the plot

I don't want to reveal how I'm gonna execute this, but trust me, it'll be there.

7. Adam has ADHD and Dyslexia

After watching the show fiftyleven times, I can say with confidence that Adam is not dumb. He has a short attention span, sure, but he can think quick on his feet and is actually quite clever. He may not excel in the classroom, but unlike what a lot of parents will tell you, grades are not a good reflection of someone's intelligence or skills. And while Adam's spelling skills are below average, this doesn't usually occur to someone in their late teens unless they a) didn't have access to a good education, or b) they are lazy and incredibly spoiled, and Adam is none of these things. But, something that neurodivergent people tend to do in situations like these is uplay their "dumbness" to the point where it's OBVIOUSLY a joke, except it's not. They just don't want people to think they're actually that dumb.

I wouldn't put it past Donald to just label Adam as dumb and not get him assessed.

8: Bree also has ADHD

Bree also seems to have trouble concentrating and waiting, but where Adam hyperfixates for months at a time and is innatentive, Bree's hyperfixations last for a few days at most before she moves on to the next thing.

9: Chase is bisexual

Do I even have to explain this one?

10: Chase has autism

Listen, this man does not get social cues and info dumps like crazy.

And last, but certainly not least,

11: Krane's story is going to go beyond the every Disney Villain motivation of wanting to take over the world

I always wished they had done more with Krane than the simple, "I wanna take over the world," crap that most Disney villains do. I wanted more lore, more backstory, more motivation. Now, I'm finally getting it.

Please let me know what you think and have a great day!

#lab rats #adam davenport #bree davenport #chase davenport #leo dooley #donald davenport #douglas davenport #rewrite #fanfic #fanfiction #mighty med

[gwendolynlerman]

Languages of the world

Solresol (Sol-Re-Sol)

Basic facts

Number of speakers: ?

Spoken: ?

Script: Latin, 7 notes

Grammatical cases: 0

Linguistic typology: analytic, SVO

Language family: constructed

Number of dialects: 0

History

1817 - Solresol is first developed

1866 - the first book about the language is published

Solresol was invented by François Sudre, a musician, composer, and music teacher. He called it la langue musicale universelle (the international musical language) or Solrésol, which in Solresol means “language, idiom, dialect, linguistics or philology”.

Sudre hoped Solresol would be used to facilitate international communication and deliberately made the language simple, so it would be easy to learn, and unlike any natural language, to avoid giving an advantage to any particular group of people.

Solresol was the first artificial language to be taken seriously as an interlanguage. It is also the first and only musically-based interlanguage, or at least the only one to make any headway.

Solresol has seven syllables based on the Western musical scale: do re mi fa sol la si. The total number of words is 2,660: 7 words with one syllable, 49 with two syllables, 336 with three syllables, and 2,268 with four syllables.

Writing system and pronunciation

Solresol has several written forms:

Using the Latin alphabet: do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si

Using the Latin alphabet without the vowels (except the -o- of sol to distinguish it from si): d, r, m, f, so, l, s

As numerals: 1 (do), 2 (re), 3 (mi), 4 (fa), 5 (sol), 6 (la), 7 (si)

As notes on a musical scale of just three lines:

Using the Solresol stenographic script invented by Vincent Gajewski:

Solresol can also be represented by the seven colors of the rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet), by manual signs, with different colored flags, or by painting.

Here are some sample words in the stenographic script:

Double syllables are indicated with a line through them.

Grammar

Many words in Solresol are grouped according to their first syllable:

do = physical and moral properties of people, their intellectual faculties and qualities, and food, e.g. doredomi (body), domilafa (reason, sense), dofamisol (wisdom), dolamisi (to eat), dolasoldo (meat)

re = things in the home, housework, and family, e.g. redoredo (clothes), remifala (house, home), remisolla (room), resolmire (to sweep, broom), residosol (family)

mi = actions and flaws, e.g. midosolfa (to complain), mifadore (character, nature), milamido (to talk nonsense), milarefa (to critcize)

fa = country, travel, war, and the navy, e.g. fadoremi (countryside), fadomido (mountain, hill), fadofasol (tree), famidomi (soldier), fasisolfa (road), fasidore (to travel)

sol = fine arts and sciences, e.g. soldoremi (theatre), soldomido (opera), solsifasol (to invent, create), solsidofa (novel, story)

la = industry and commerce, e.g. ladoremi (to manufacture, make, factory), ladomifa (workship, studio), larelado (accounting), lamiresol (trade)

si = city, goverment, and administration, e.g. sidoredo (city, town), sodofasi (market), siresire (politics)

Nouns have two genders (masculine and feminine) and two numbers (singular and plural). Feminine words (for female beings) are indicated by accenting the final vowel of a word. In writing this can be indicated with an accent: domifado = man, domifadō = woman. Accenting the final vowel also indicates the plural.

Accents are also used to indicate the category of word. They are not normally indicated in writing but can be added as a macron, acute, or circumflex. When singing or playing Solresol on an instrument, accented syllables are given two beats.

unaccented = verb, e.g. solremifa = to sing

accented first syllable = abstract noun, e.g. sōlremifa = song

accented second syllable = agent/doer, e.g. solrēmifa = singer

accented penultimate syllable = adjective, e.g. solremīfa = song-like

accented final syllable = adverb (or feminine/plural), e.g. solremifā = singingly, tunefully; sisol = Mr. — sisōl = Mrs.; dore = I, me — dorē = we, us

Some words form their opposites by reversing the syllables. For example:

misol = well, good — solmi = wrong, evil

fala = good, tasty — lafa = bad

fasi = much, very — sifa = little, scarely

solla = always — lasol = never

solsi = to go up, climb — sisol = to descend

solsifa = to laugh — fasisol = to cry

simila = ease — lamisi = difficulty

doladomi = to accept, consent — midolado = to refuse, reject

dola = one, someone — lado = nothing, zero, nobody

simi = good morning/afternoon, hello — misi = good evening/night

dore = I, me, we — redo = my, mine

dofa = you — fado = your

Verbs are conjugated for tense, mood, and aspect. Tenses are indicated as follows:

dodo = imperfect/pluperfect, e.g. dore dodo domilado (I was speaking/had spoken)

rere = simple past, e.g. dore rere domilado (I spoke)

mimi = future/future perfect, e.g. dore mimi domilado (I will speak / will have spoken)

fafa = conditional/past conditional, e.g. dore fafa domilado (I would speak / would have spoken)

solsol = imperative, e.g. solsol domilado (speak!)

lala = present participle, e.g. lala domilado (speaking)

sisi = past participle, e.g. sisi domilado (spoken)

#langblr #lingblr #solresol

[romantamsxiangshi]

Translation of Roman Tam's and Jenny Tseng's 1983 鐵血丹心 (Iron Blood, Loyal Heart) from The Legend of the Condor Heroes

Jin Yong is hailed as the finest wuxia (martial arts) novelist of modern China, and is one of the best-selling Chinese authors of all time. His hit 1957 series, The Legend of the Condor Heroes, is set in the warring Jin/Song Dynasties (early-mid 1200's), and follows three generations of the Guo and Yang families. LCH was adapted into a TV series by Hong Kong's Guangdong TV Station in 1983. The show became an international sensation, and featured the breakthrough of stars such as Barbara Yung (who played Huang Rong). My dad, who grew up in the mainland, remembers entire streets emptying when the show was running; whole neighborhoods without TVs would crowd into shops or bars to watch. Since then, LCH has been remade into myriad shows and movies, but the 1983 version is hailed as a classic of Chinese and HK cinema.

I just started watching the 1983 LCH, after a lifetime of listening to the soundtrack, and I've fallen in love with its earnest dissection of legacy, lineage, and loyalty. I'm especially wowed by the embodiment of these tensions in the relationship between Guo Jing and Huang Rong. Huang Rong--who runs away from her heretical father and cross-dresses as a beggar--is a character I relate to on such a visceral level. She rejects her own lineage/parentage, yet is desperately resentful of Guo Jing and Yang Kang for upholding theirs. She is genderqueer, in both the novel and the show (cross-dressing, refusing to be called Brother or Sister, carefully and perfectly imitating various gender roles to get attention/power). She scorns human attachment and idealism of all forms, yet is fascinated by Guo Jing's caring and principled nature.

The slowburn of her romance with Guo Jing is one of the most beautiful portrayals of queer love I've seen in Chinese media; although Guo Jing is smitten with her from the beginning (buying her meals and saying he feels like he's known her his whole life, asking her to be his sworn brother, confessing his love to her, rejecting his shifu for her, offering her both the betrothal sword given to him by Genghis Khan and the sword with Yang Kang's name), it takes her a very long time to be honest and vulnerable enough to reciprocate. Just as Guo Jing helps her believe in and act on a commitment to a greater good, Huang Rong helps him step away from the expectations placed on him since birth and realize what he really wants (which is, and I quote, to live a peaceful life of anonymity). They are the original queer girlboss/malewife power couple, and the theme song of the 1983 LCH is a duet by Roman Tam and Jenny Tseng that captures their love. This duet is the first of four in the official OST, which I will translate in the next few days.

Song:

Translation:

JT: 依稀往夢似曾見 I've dreamt this only vaguely before, JT: 心內波瀾現 The sorrow that now grips my heart in waves. RT: 拋開世事斷愁怨 Let go of worldly worries. Together: 相伴到天邊 Come with me to the ends of this world. (1)

RT: 逐草四方沙漠蒼茫 We'll chase the plains; the deserts are vast. JT: 冷風吹 天蒼蒼 The wind's so cold; the sky's so blue. RT: 那懼雪霜撲面 We fear the snows; we'll face our fears. (2) JT: 藤樹 相連 All these wildernesses are but one. (3) RT: 射雕引弓塞外奔馳 I'll raise my bow to shoot; we'll ride free beyond the Great Wall. (4) JT: 猛風沙 野茫茫 These winds and sands are beastly. RT: 笑傲此生無厭倦 In this life, I wish only to smile without weariness. JT: 藤樹兩纏綿 We are but two wild things clinging to each other. (5)

JT: 應知愛意是流水 You ought to know that love is meant to flow like water. RT: 天蒼蒼 野茫茫 The sky is so blue, so vast and wild. JT: 斬不斷理還亂 Reason cannot stem what's meant to be free. (6) RT: 萬般變化 The world will always change around us. Together: 身經百劫也在心間 My body has been taught both violence and scripture (7) Together: 恩義兩難斷 Still my heart has kept its goodness. (8)

RT: 逐草四方沙漠蒼茫 We'll chase the plains; the deserts are vast. JT: 冷風吹 天蒼蒼 The wind's so cold; the sky's so blue. RT: 那懼雪霜撲面 We fear the snows; we'll face our fears. JT: 藤樹 相連 All these wildernesses are but one. RT: 射雕引弓塞外奔馳 I'll raise my bow to shoot; we'll ride free beyond the Great Wall. JT: 猛風沙 野茫茫 These winds and sands are beastly. RT: 笑傲此生無厭倦 In this life, I wish only to smile without weariness. JT: 藤樹兩纏綿 We are but two wild things clinging to each other.

JT: 應知愛意是流水 You ought to know that love is meant to flow like water. RT: 天蒼蒼 野茫茫 The sky is so blue, so vast and wild. JT: 斬不斷理還亂 Reason cannot stem what's meant to be free. RT: 萬般變化 The world has always changed around us. Together: 身經百劫也在心間 My body has been taught both violence and scripture Together: 恩義兩難斷 Still my heart has kept its goodness.

Together: 身經百劫也在心間 My body has been taught both violence and scripture Together: 恩義兩難斷 Still my heart has kept its goodness.

Translation notes:

(1) A more literal translation is, "come with me to Heaven's side," or "the edge of the sky."

(2) A more literal translation is, "why should/must we fear the snows?" I thought it sounded better as a two-part statement, when placed in relation to the two-parters above.

(3) This and (5) are one of those cases where I interpret as I translate. A literal translation of this line is, "trees and vines are all intertwined." But I chose to translate it in a way that would best match (5), as I think this metaphor is ultimately about their love, and the tension between their commitment to good and their desire to be free.

(4) A more literal translation is, "I'll bend my bow to shoot a condor." This just sounds a bit clunky--also, the "condor" in the title of LCH is disputed, given how condors aren't native to China. Although "condor" is most commonly used, a more accurate translation might be "eagle."

(5) To reference back to (3): this line translates more literally to, "two vines/trees are intertwined." However, 纏綿 also bears connotations of emotional attachment and commitment. Given this line's weight as the end of this stanza, I'm almost positive it's about Guo Jing's and Huang Rong's commitment to each other as two people who aren't/don't wish to be bound by traditional norms of gender, legacy, or patriotism. I therefore chose to give myself more creative liberty, both with "wild things," and with "clinging to each other."

(6) A more literal translation would be, "reason tries ceaselessly to cut, but still chaos remains." Given the earlier reference to flowing/free water, I thought that the object of reason's cutting would be love--fitting, as almost everyone around Guo Jing tries to dissuade him from loving Huang Rong, mainly by appealing to reason (she's not a good fit for his mission; she'll probably betray him and the country; her bloodline's bad). I think it very beautiful that chaos, love, and water are connected throughout this stanza: that the unreasonableness/irrationality of love isn't a bad thing at all.

(7) Others have translated this line to, "I have faced trials and tribulations," which sounds better in English. However, the individual characters of 身經百劫 refer to, 身 "body," 經 "endurance/scripture/holiness/tradition," and 劫 "sufferings/disasters." 劫 also has connotations of being taken by force, implying how a body that has been committed to enduring and upholding traditions/legacies is left with little agency. The use of 百 "hundred(s)" in this phrase also refers to the multitude and duration of these things--I therefore translated the line to include "know," a verb that implies a process of learning (quite literal, when it comes to the martial arts) and the duration of said process.

(8) 恩 "gratitude"/"loyalty" and 義 "righteousness"/"commitment to good" are both concepts Guo Jing is praised for, and are commonly found in Chinese classics as standards for good children. As much as Huang Rong helps Guo Jing grow away from the immense expectations of revenge/patriotism, I still think his arc is about finding what these things mean to him--whether that is refusing to kill (it's Huang Rong who kills Yang Kang, Guo Jing's fated enemy), or throwing caution to the wind to care for Huang Rong and those close to him. I therefore chose "goodness" as a more general term--one that doesn't carry the connotations of parental/generational/cultural expectation, but is still very Guo Jing.

In general, I think this translation is less faithful than my others--mainly because I feel so strongly about the love between Guo Jing and Huang Rong, and will therefore take as many creative liberties as possible for others to understand why.

#cantopop #translation #romantam #romantamtranslation #jennytseng #jennytsengtranslation #condorheroes #Spotify

[she-is-the-blackbird]

I posted 386 times in 2022

112 posts created (29%)

274 posts reblogged (71%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thatonecrazyfan

@that-catholic-shinobi

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I tagged 253 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#youtube - 19 posts

#traditional femininity - 18 posts

#conservative - 18 posts

#pro life - 13 posts

#libertarian - 12 posts

#liberal - 12 posts

#feminism - 11 posts

#elon musk - 10 posts

#adam driver - 10 posts

#traditional woman - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#the government sure is pushing for violence and it's making me nervous

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

"I'm Living In a Prison Country"

All right everyone, we need to continue to pray for Austria, Australia and everywhere else in the world. I was so happy to find out that the U.S has stopped with our stupid mandate... But so many places have it so much worse.

12 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

#4

*me watching Johnny Depp adjust his tie*

And ALSO me: Like, I AM SORRY, Ladies, but men who wear suits, unfortunately, will aLWAYS look better than us (if they are in suits) unless we end up taking back the ballgowns with GLOVES.

I am so tired, of men looking so classic, so fresh, so clean, in their suits. and US, Ladies, have so many options for dress, that we look like we. CAN'T. EVEN. in comparison.

I said what I said.

18 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

#3

19 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

#2

So I just found out that getting a preferred sex of a baby via IVF is a thing...

My step-sister who literally.JUST.had a baby girl three weeks ago told us today that she would have no problem going for an IVF pregnancy to ensure a boy if the next one she plans on having is a girl... She said she would want up to four kids to get a boy in general, but if by the second one she doesn't have a boy, that she wouldn't mind doing that.

PS- She says she's pro-life and is a Christian.

Uh, and apparently Western Women do that, because my other step-sister said she had a friend who did that because she wanted a boy too.

And I'm shook because I'm over here watching videos of Yeonmi Park escaping North Korea to China where she got trafficked because there's a lack of women in China.

And you know... Considering the fact that over here Western people are so concerned about "gender equality" and all that fucking crap, it amazes me that I am hearing two stories of modern women saying that they would go to that length to have a boy.

I'm sorry, what?

And to top it all off, my STEP-DAD said that he was unsure about Christian's worrying about the IVF/gender thing (when our family talks about the whole transgender thing and believing in two biological sexes and our arguments against the woke culture of it all) because he says that "I think they're only like that when it's terminating a pregnancy"... What? Um, no, I'm pretty sure that most Christian's would find it horrifying to get involved and change the natural selection of things... Oddly enough, he doesn't AGREE with it, but why.did.he.say.that?

So anyway, please help me pray that people are better than this and that in our modern, western-SUPPOSEDLY- GENDER EQUAL- country this is not happening.

And pray that H (Step-Sister) would never go through with something like this.

35 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

My dream now is to get married and tell my husband that I want to be a homemaker. I'm done. What has putting all this energy in a career ever gotten me?

319 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

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[julianightmare]

I posted 147 times in 2022

12 posts created (8%)

135 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 20 of my posts in 2022

#authors of tumblr - 4 posts

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#writer - 4 posts

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#fnaf sb headcanons - 3 posts

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Longest Tag: 102 characters

#and i don't care if anyone who reads this decides they like this idea for their own stories\characters

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

What My Labels Mean to Me

Since it's that time of year, I've decided to make a post talking about exactly what my sexual and gender labels mean to me personally.

I'll be going in order of when I figured each out.

Bisexual: I'm attracted to people regardless of gender, but I don't consider myself pan since gender is still partially a factor for my attraction (if that makes sense). And I don't think omni fits since how I'm attracted to them isn't the same for all genders\sexes.

Demiromantic: This one I don't know how to explain well. I just know that I don't for romantic attractions\attachments unless I'm already close with someone. Maybe it's because I already know I get along with the person if we're already friends. I just know that platonic love has to be there first before romantic can even think to form.

Hell, this also kinda plays a part when I get crushes on fictional characters. They only form after I've been exposed to a lot of media of them (usually fan made) and I already liked them as a character to begin with.

Demigirl: Literally just figured out I'm this last year, though I'm still figuring it out as a whole.

I still align partially with my AGAB, just not completely. Best way I've thought of it is to imagine genders as flavors on a soda fountain, but girl\female was running low on syrup when my cup was filled. The flavor is still there, just not as strong as "normal".

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and happy pride!

8 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

#4

By now we should all know about this in game item. Kinda hard to miss it since it's in soda machines all around the pizzaplex, there are the 4 cans we can pick up to boost stamina, and drinking massive ammounts of it is part of Sun's list of things he suggested he and Gregory to do together.

My brain, being the way that it is, has formed questions and ideas around this fictional beverage. I know it isn't that big in the grand scheme of things in universe, but the writer in me wants an excuse to add on to the mess that is fanon world building. (idk if that's an actual term, but it is now.)

Flavors-

In the game we only see four flavors of fizzy faz mentioned\shown in any of the messages and soda machines. Except for in the daycare. The daycare seems to have, at least, one of those freestyle soda fountains that let's you add extra flavor to a base soda flavor (mostly seen at fast food places from my personal experience).

Why bring up the machine in the daycare? Well that leads into my next point.

I like to think that there are actually more than 4 flavors of fizzy faz. Specifically I think there are three other flavors, plus a sugar free\diet variation of all the flavors. The three other flavors will be expanded on in their own headcanon, since they are character specific. (I'm sure y'all can guess who.)

Distribution-

Considering how much of a big deal the fazbear brand seems to be in universe, I wouldn't put it past the company to sell the soda outside of the pizzaplex. It just makes sense to me. You can basically find it at almost any store that sells soda. You can't get it out of a fountain anywhere besides the plex, but you can sure as hell stock up on cans and bottles.

There isn't much of a difference between the can you got at the gas station and the ones at the pizzaplex, mainly that the ones sold at regular stores are a bit dulled down in flavor. It's not even that noticable, but subconciously you can tell.

Marketing-

Besides the obvious of the characters doing ads for their flavors, there is one main marketing thing they do with fizzy faz sold outside of the pizzaplex. Some of the bottles have a "lucky cap" which will have a code that could mean free or discounted admission to the plex. Cans of it have a similar things, sometimes the boxes of 12 packs will have a code like the lucky caps printed on the inside.

9 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

#3

These are the three other fizzy faz flavors I mentioned in the previous headcanon. If you hadn't guessed before, these will be flavors themed for Sun, Moon, and DJ Music Man. I came up with these because I wanted them for my AU, though anyone can use them for their AUs if they want to.

Flavors:

Sun- Strawberry Pineapple

Moon- Blue Raspberry

DJMM- Cotton Candy

Bonus Flavors (mostly because I know several AUs have at least one of these two as part of them):

Foxy- Rootbeer

Bonnie- Cherry Cola

Triva:

-I had several ideas for Sun's, and it was hard to settle on what flavor to make his.

-Moon's was originally gonna be called Blue Moon Raspberry, but then I remembered none of the others have special flavor names like that.

-Sun's was also gonna have a special name, when I wanted to make it a citrus punch type of flavor (Sunny Citrus).

-Bonnie's is cherry cola because the diner in Bonnie Bowl gives me 50s diner vibes, and 50s diners make me think of cherry cola for some reason.

-Yes, DJMM's is cotton candy because of his color scheme.

-Foxy got rootbeer because I figured it'd be a kinda funny joke with him being a pirate and all (plus it's nearly 1:30 AM at the time of writing this, and I can't be bothered to come up with something better).

I also have a fizzy faz flavor in mind for my animatronic fan oc, but I'm saving that for her bio. Though that does give me an idea. If any of you have an animatronic fan oc, what would their fizzy faz flavor be?

17 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

#2

Idk if anyone has done this yet, but this idea just popped into my head.

The Coven from Monster Prom dressed as The Hex Girls from Scooby Doo (and maybe hex girls dressed as the coven).

You're welcome.

18 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You know the posters in the game that advertise the sun drop and moon drop candies? Well I've seen multiple people talking about Sun and Moon being able to dispense them. Though I haven't seen people talking about how they dispense the candies. Naturally that got me thinking, which lead me to think about other things that could be related to this.

Basically, the candies come out of a hatch in the palms of their hands. Specifically sun drops come out of the left hand and moon drops come out of the right hand.

Now, factoring in the idea that they can only give out the candy that corresponds with their theming (meaning Sun is only able to give out sun drops and Moon is only able to give out moon drops), we can talk about which hand is their dominant hand(s). I'd like to note that I think their body as a whole is ambidextrous, but as individuals they ended up favoring one hand over the other while going about their day to day lives. They just both ended up favoring the hand that their candy comes out of. So, Moon is right handed and Sun is left handed. It was kinda a subconscious thing for both of them, but it worked out for the best.

If they were to ever get their own separate bodies then they'd be able to dispense their candy from both hands, but would have the same dominant hand that they had when they were just one robot.

(Also, this is just something I thought was cute, but sun will sometimes dispense a candy while holding someone's hand. It's a nice little surprise he likes to do for people for many reasons.)

57 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

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[coochiequeens]

1. Transgender, Repeat Child Sex Offender Too “Vulnerable and Easily Exploited” for Prison, Judge Rules

Crime: Police conducting a risk review at the Tyne, England, UK home of Rachel Smith in July 2020 discovered that the 56-year-old had been engaging in “regular contact” with a 14-year-old girl on Instagram in violation of a court order. Smith, who is male and identifies as a woman, had 50 prior convictions, including one in 2018 for Making Indecent Photographs Of Children and a 1994 count of Indecent Assault. Smith pleaded guilty to Breach Of A Sexual Harm Prevention Order. Result: Finding that Smith would be “vulnerable and easily exploited” if placed in prison, Judge Robert Spragg sentenced Smith to a three-year community order.  

2. Struggles With “Transgender Identity” and “Sexual Identity” Led Adult to Access Child Rape Images, Attorney Successfully Argues

Crime: In Brisbane, Australia, a 2016 raid of the home of Vetea Joseph Bunton, a male who identifies as a woman, produced a mobile device with “15 images depicting young boys between the age of five years and 16 years posing naked, performing oral sex or engaging in anal intercourse, either with other young people or adults.” Bunton pleaded guilty in 2018. Claim: During sentencing, Bunton’s attorney presented a report by consultant and forensic psychologist Dr Gavin Palk, who had examined Bunton and concluded that Bunton acquired the child abuse images out of “curiosity” while struggling with “transgender identity” and “sexual identity.” A judge rejected the argument, finding that nothing “really excuses obtaining child exploitation material with children as young as five years.” He imposed two years’ probation and a medical, psychiatric or psychological treatment requirement. Result: The case was brought to the Court of Appeal where, in 2019, Justice Philip Morrison ordered the record of Bunton’s conviction expunged due to such “unusual circumstances” as Bunton’s “psychological profile.”   3. Repeat Child Sex Offender Can’t Help Violence and Death Threats While in Custody; Being Transgender Makes Prison “Too Difficult”

Crime: Mark Walker, a Worcestershire, England, UK predator, has around 40 convictions. While in prison for the rapes of two girls, one of whom was only four, Walker, who is male, began identifying as a woman named Marcia. When not provided ‘gender-affirming’ cosmetic surgery fast enough, the inmate sent bomb threats to government officials, including Prime Minister Theresa May, and was sentenced to additional prison time. When a prison official confiscated National Geographic magazines containing nude images of children from Walker’s cell and sought to seize razor blades the inmate used to shave, Walker spat on and threatened him and a fellow inmate. Walker confessed to the spitting and threats.

Claim: Walker’s barrister, Fiona Lamb, argued that the inmate was “unpleasant in custody” due to “personal circumstances” that make prison “very difficult for her.” Result: Agreeing that it is too much trouble to hold someone in custody who has these “issues,” Judge Ray Singh took “a chance” and released the inmate from prison.  

4. Male, Violent Child Rapist Secures Early Prison Release by Identifying as a Woman

Crime: Joseph Smith of Iowa, US, sexually abused up to 15 children ranging in age from one to 13, and was imprisoned in 2015 for the molestation of a fellow student. In 2017, Smith, who is male, began identifying as a woman named Josie. A pre-sentence report prepared by the State’s expert, Dr Jeffrey Davis, recommended Smith be confined at the Cherokee Civil Commitment Unit for Sex Offenders (CCUSO) for an indefinite period, based on a high likelihood of re-offending.

Claim: On January 9, 2020, the Iowa Attorney General office filed a motion to dismiss a petition that Smith be considered a sexually violent predator, arguing that the hormone treatments had reduced Smith’s testosterone levels. “An offender’s hormone levels are among the criteria that are considered,” the communications director for the Attorney General’s office said. Result:  The district court judge granted the motion to dismiss “in the interests of justice.” Smith was released from prison.  

5. Repeat Child Rapist Released From Prison, Claiming to Have been Cured by Transgender Hormones

Crime: In Brisbane, Australia, Jeffrey Terrence Anderson was convicted in 2008 of the rapes of a 12-year-old child and two six-year-old children. Anderson was babysitting the children at the time of the rapes. While in prison, Anderson, who is male, began identifying as a woman named Rose, and was cross-sex hormones. Claim: Anderson claimed that the hormones had decreased the urge to rape children.

Result: Anderson was released from prison on June 4, 2020, although prison guards had found a three-page story in which Anderson details a fantasy of raping a three-year-old, Anderson was discovered with images of children as late as 2017, and a psychologist’s observed that “Anderson’s belief that the risk of re-offending would be mitigated by becoming a woman is not supported and somewhat naive.”  

6. Adults Get Court, Media Sympathy for “Sensitive…Transgender Issues” after Drop-Kicking, Stamping Teen

Crime: A gang of transgender-identifying adults kicked and stamped out a teen in London, UK in a 2018 attack one court condemned as “heinous” and carried out with “severe violence.” The adults, who are male, identify as women.

Claim: The adult defendants claimed the teen said during a heated exchange, “You’re not a woman – you need a fanny to be a woman.” Result: Sympathizing with the defendants over “transphobic issues” to which they are “particularly sensitive,” Judge Nigel Seed slammed the teen as a “so-called victim” who had brought the violence on himself, and declined to impose prison sentences on the attackers.   7. Transgender Child Sex Predator Repeatedly Given Slap on Wrist for Offenses

Crime: Chloe Walker, a 28-year-old male drifter who identifies as a woman, has a lengthy rap sheet of sexual offenses. Walker has lured children online using various aliases, including Brandon Walker, Steven Walker, James Walker and Jamie Thornton. Claim: When Walker violated a sexual harm prevention order last year, Barrister Chantelle Stocks blamed her client’s on a three-year wait for a gender-affirming clinic appointment, combined with the stress of lockdown intended to reduce the spread of COVID-19. Result: While it’s not entirely clear whether judges have taken Walker’s gender identity into account, Walker has had 22 convictions since 2006, including Sexual Assault Of A Child Under 13 against a male victim and Sexual Activity With a Child Under 16 against a female victim. Despite repeat breaches of a sexual harm prevention order, Walker is sentenced only to months at a time.  

8. Transgender Detainee Who Impregnated, Beat Fellow Inmate Released from Prison

Crime: In October 2017, 27-year-old Gabriel Nahir Fernández or Argentina was sentenced to three years and two months in a men’s prison for “gender-based … injuries and threats.” The divorcé had a history of three complaints of family violence. With legal assistance, the inmate had the first name changed to Gabriela on the Civil Registry. The male inmate then requested a transfer to women’s prison, testifying in court to having an identity as a woman and to feeling “uncomfortable” housed with men. The attorney for Nahir Fernández acknowledged that his client began engaging in illicit encounters with female prisoners, though it is not known whether the acts were consensual. Nahir Fernández was denounced on April 4 for “savagely beating” one of the women upon learning that she had become pregnant. 11 women attested to the attack. Result: When it was discovered that Nahir Fernández had impregnated and beaten an inmate, judge released Nahir Fernández from prison on parole.   Female Defendants Rarely Benefit from the Transgender Plea The transgender plea appears to be primarily a perk of being male, but one female convict has been allowed to walk free on the basis that being transgender is punishment enough for a criminal.

9. Neo-Nazi Who Terrorized Journalists Has Suffered Enough from Gender Dysphoria, Will Not be Imprisoned, Judge Decides

Crime: As a member of the white supremacist organization Atomwaffen Division, which has been implicated in five deaths, Taylor Parker-Dipeppe of Florida joined three men – Cameron Brandon Shea, 24, of Washington; Caleb Cole, 24, of Texas; and Johnny Roman Garza, 20, of Arizona – in a campaign to intimidate and harass black and Jewish journalists across the US. In early 2020, the group plastered threatening posters and swastikas at the home. Parker-Dipeppe’s co-conspirators were not aware that Parker-Dipeppe is female and identifies as a man. Parker-Dipeppe pleaded guilty last September to Conspiracy To Mail Threatening Communications and Conspiracy To Commit Cyberstalking. Result: “None of us have suffered the difficult situation this defendant has endured as a result of his gender identity confusion,” a federal judge in Seattle, Washington decided in March 2021. “Enough’s enough.” On March 31, the International Transgender Day of Visibility, US District Judge John Coughenour sentenced Parker-Dipeppe to time served.   Cases Not Yet Decided

These are pending cases in which transgender-identifying defendants have appealed to their transgender identity in court.

  1. Prison Too Tough for Transgender Person Who Sexually Abused Step Son, Threatened to Break Boy’s Limbs, Solicitor Says

Crime: A 32-year-old in Dublin, Ireland whose identity is being withheld is serving a six-year sentence in women’s prison for routinely sexually assaulting the young son of a live-in girlfriend, and threatening to break the child’s arms and legs. While in prison, the male began identifying as a woman. Claim: A solicitor is appealing the sentence, arguing the sentencing judge did not have sufficient regard to the difficulties a “transgender woman” would face in prison.  

2. Attacker Assaults Three Men, Blames Suppressed Transgender Identity

Crime: Sean Kavanagh knocked over several glasses at Malt House Bar in Dublin, Ireland. While being ejected from the establishment, Kavanagh punched a bartender and threw a bottle at an event manager. Once outside, Kavanagh tried to run back in. A family friend tried to stop Kavanagh, who punched him, putting the victim in intensive care for several days with a fractured skull and bleeding to the brain. Kavanagh, who is male, began identifying as a woman named Shauna and acquired a gender recognition certificate. Claim: Kavanagh pleaded guilty to one count of Assault Causing Harm and two counts of Assault. In February 19, 2021, barrister Cathleen Noctor SC presented to the court a psychological report that said Kavanagh’s “anger (that night)” had been due to Kavanagh, who is male, “suppressing her gender” as a woman named Shauna. Noctor argued that Kavanagh is “vulnerable” and would find prison particularly difficult, referencing international research that “has found transgender women in particular are a vulnerable group in prison.”

  3. Man Can’t be Guilty of ‘Gender Violence’ Against a Woman; He IS a Woman, Lawyer Says Crime:

A woman in Spain accuses her 50-year-old firefighter husband of psychological abuse, which she says drove her to file for divorce. The spouse, who is male, now identifies as a woman.

Claim: Íñigo Urien Azpitarte, Special Lawyer for Violence on Women of the Vizcaya Bar Association said, “My client is a woman from birth even though her genitals were male, so the law cannot be applied as if she were a man when the supposed facts were committed,” as under the law, “gender-based violence is a crime committed by a man on a woman with whom he has had a relationship. … My professional criterion is that you cannot apply gender violence legislation because you have been diagnosed with gender dysphoria.” (The Constitutional Act 1/2004 of 28 December, on Integrated Protection Measures against Gender Violence is a Criminal Code that brings brings harsher penalties against an abuser than against those who perpetrate an assault not deemed gender-based violence. The Act had been fought for by Spanish women associations since 1993.)  

4. Transgender Status Makes Jail Too “Harsh” for “Idiot” Militia Leader Who Invaded US Capitol – Lawyer, Friends Say

Crime: Jessica Marie Watkins, a 38-year-old male leader of the far right militia group Oath Keepers who identifies as a woman, is facing felony charges in relation to the Wednesday, January 6 invasion of the US Capitol. Claim: A public defender is arguing that being held in custody places the “transgender” individual at risk of “harsh treatment.” A friend insisted in a court filing that Watkins is not dangerous, but just “brainwashed” and an “idiot.”  

Unsuccessful Pleas

Sometimes courts reject the argument that being transgender should permit a defendant to get a lighter sentence or entirely escape being brought to justice.   1. Transgender Pedophile Blames Child Victim, Gender Confusion, Drug Use for Sex Crime Crime: Between December 2015 and September 2016, a 28-year-old male in British Columbia, Canada, known alternatively as Jeremy Melvin Carlson and Rhiley Melvin Carlson, touched an eight-year-old girl on nine occasions, using hands and penis. The abuse ended when the child told her mother. Claim: Carlson, who identifies as a woman and is in the process of ‘transitioning’, blamed the child victim and Carlson’s own struggles with gender identity confusion, heavy marijuana use and depression for the “poor sexual boundaries.”  

#But this never happens #trans offenders #Trans criminals #Trans offenders in women’s prisons

[sainadazai]

hi, could I request dad ushijima headcanons?

Yes ofc :)

Things Dad!Ushi does

He doesn't understand that when your child is a baby, they are...just a baby

Speaks to them seriously as if they will respond to him

It's cute tho-

He will be in the kitchen warming up some milk at midnight, asking the baby about their day

"Your mother told me you almost fully lifted your head today. I always told her you would be strong c/n."

Ushijima goes on a run each morning, and if his kid is being fussy, he just straps them in a carrier and takes them with

It's like weight training

He won't admit to this, but when he is alone with the two of you, he likes to play with their little belly fat

It's so cute how their tummy is chubby he just wants to kiss it all the time-

When they grow more and begin walking and talking, he will realize somehow that he produces the most genius kids in the world

Will ask for more

He knows you don't like it, but he never palys the stupid kids shows when he's watching them, he always puts on a volleyball match

Thinks that he can manipulate the infant into loving volleyball

Doesn't goof around at all, though

You are for playtime and Ushi is for serious training 😡

Instead of teasing around with toys he will do drills with your 4 year old 😀

Sports is how he has fun, so he figures that they will too

It's kinda funny to come home to find a grown man in your backyard doing push-ups next to a pre-schooler

He cheers them on, too, just to be sure they don't feel sad

"Thats it, your almost at two push-ups c/n, hold on, we must record this! Your mother will be so proud she always tells me she likes muscles."

He doesn't understand that the strength isn't what makes you like his muscles :/

Its okay though

Does not give a shit about gender norms because he never knew they existed.

He will let them go to school in a too too and polka dot leggings if they want. Regardless of gender.

He thinks anything they chose to wear is perfect- so why would he change it

If anyone teases them he WILL be seeing the principle about it.

He loves taking them to the gym with him when they are old enough.

Not to workout, but to meet his team

Kageyama pretends to hate them but they play tag all day

Your kid is competitive as shit. Can't help it, it's in the genes

So they will throw tantrums if they ever lose st anything.

However, you can't rely on your wonderful baby daddy to help because he insists on never intentionally losing a game.

They like to play connect four together

So one day you teach your six your old an easy way to beat dad and instead of shaking hands and admitting defeat he refuses to talk to them all day-

Ushi doesn't like losing :/ so now you have two babies to take care of

He wants three kids.

He says that they will be bestfriends and he always wanted siblings growing up

But when you bring home your second child and the first one starts to throw toys at it he gets so confused.

At first he yells, and c/m goes to time out "we do not throw toys!"

But later that night, when you are sound asleep and he is waiting for the baby to inevitably get hungry, he is wondering why on earth your kids wouldn't love eachother

Like...#2 is so cute? Looks just like c/n with that cite lil baby chub :(

He solves the problem by saying that exactly to the 6 year old 😃

"But c/n they have little fat legs? And chubby cheeks? And they laugh when they fart? Just like you."

Somehow it works tho-

They bond over farts and Ushi regrets this so much

He buys a dad car

Two car seats and toys and Disney music

His teammates tease him for it but it so convenient? Why didn't he buy it ages ago?

Struggles a lot with letting go

Like when he has to travel for games

Puts on a brave face for the kids and the calls you on the plane begging to see them and know what you were doing the 30 minutes he's been gone

Being a dad doesn't make him laze off on sex.

He IS a dilf

Although he doesn't know what a dilf is

He is prepared to read a story book to his babies and then pound you into that mattress

Sometimes he does get sick of them

Not specifically, but once they are old enough to argue with him he gets so tired

He insists on not yelling at them

So when thry don't listen he has to put on that stern and scary face but deep inside he really just wants to give them anything they want

Only disciplines them because he knows you'll get mad at him for not

They know how to schmooze him, though

It's the same look you used to give him

Those big brights eyes and soft pout, almost teary with want

He gives in everytime

The man can't help himself he made SUCH CUTE KIDS TF

You don't like it. But you let it happen

Because you know he loves them more than anything in the world <3

#hq daichi #hq atsumu #hq ushijima #domestic haikyuu #hq smut #hq anime #hq imagines #hq hcs

[reidyoulikeabook]

Right Where You Left Me

Ship: BAU! Gender Neutral! reader x Spencer Reid

#Request - Could you do some angst with “you dont deserve my forgiveness?” Any ship!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, injury (not serious), angst, mourning, a lot of tears. Also, swearing, anger, fighting (verbal, not physical.)

Summary: You and Spencer Reid had been together for a year before he ‘died.’ You grieved him. You mourned him.

A/N: Title stolen from my (current) favourite Taylor Swift song. Not sure how I feel about this one but! Here it is anyway! My requests are open & pls feel free to let me know what you think!!

14 days and 30 minutes exactly

You don’t think about the day Spencer Reid died. You can’t, because even remembering he’s dead feels as if an ice bucket has been tipped over your head. Not even now, two weeks later, have you really gotten over the initial shock that you felt. Every waking moment felt like you were trying to solve some kind of never-ending puzzle. Each emotion was overwhelming, too much to process. It felt like things would only start to get better, like everybody promised they would, when you started to be able to name the emotions rather than describe them as the physical sensations they brought on.

And you didn’t think that’d happen anytime soon.

The shared apartment was too much. You hadn’t slept in your bed since he’d been gone, and forbid anyone else from going into the bedroom. It was a sanctuary.

You understood now more than ever why victims families never changed a thing about the room of their loved ones. Every single thing felt deliberate. Theirs. It was a reflection of the time they were most alive, living. A unique snapshot of them in motion. The mess they left that they expected to come home to.

Rationally, you knew that wasn’t true. There wasn’t a sock hanging off Spencer’s bedside table, or a clean cardigan balled up on the floor, for any reason other than he’d been in a rush that morning, and had left an uncharacteristically large mess in his wake. In more ways than one.

***

2 months, 5 days, 8 hours

Being back at work helps somewhat, but the office feels empty without him there to ramble off factoids about anything and everything, to hear Morgan calling him ‘kid’ every five minutes. He only called you that now.

Simmons is nice, really he is. It isn’t his fault he’s there in place of Spencer and you try hard not to feel personally aggrieved by his presence. He doesn’t do anything to antagonise you, he stays out of your way more than anything. You don’t do anything to purposely make him uncomfortable: you do try to be agreeable and make small talk. But it’s hard not to look at him without thinking how, if everything was how it should be, Spencer would be stood in his place.

***

3 months, 26 days, 3 hours.

There is no ‘new normal.’ You’ve heard the term tossed around a few times in relation to grief, but if there is a new normal you’re still struggling to find it. When you’re not on cases, there’s no ‘normal’. You still don't sleep in your own bed. Sometimes you stay on Rossi’s, or Morgan’s, or Garcia’s couch. Sometimes, read: maybe once, it’s in the spare room at the place you and Spencer used to share. Sometimes, when you get worried about being a burden, it’s a hotel. It’s easier to feel as if you’re choosing to stay away from home, rather than acknowledging that home, as you understand it, no longer exists.

You still wake up and instinctually search for Spencer most mornings. Sure, work is keeping you occupied and you smile a little more these days. You even allowed yourself to be dragged out for drinks last weekend. But nothing feels like it should. You don’t know if that’s normal for grief or if you just aren’t moving forward at all, doomed to tread yourself deeper into the melancholic quicksand that’s got a hold on you.

You talk at length about it with Garcia over wine one night.

“Nothing feels right,” you admit, “Everything just feels...”

Garcia waits, just tipping her chin slightly to encourage you to continue. She’s got the counsellor act down and you’d have the decency to feel embarassed if you weren’t just so damn exhausted all the time.

“I feel trapped, I guess. Like I’m frozen. I keep thinking maybe it’ll get better once the trials over. Once the whole legal aspect of it is over and put to bed, then maybe I’ll have some closure on the whole situation,” you mumble, “I just don’t know how to move forward. I don’t feel like I’ve moved forward. And I know it’s only been three months but I’ve only stayed at our apartment twice and I can’t bring myself to move any of his things and...”

She just waits. In that moment, you’re so grateful for her.

“I’m stuck here. I can’t change anything. I can’t bring myself to move any of his things. I’m paying rent on a place I don’t live in but I can’t move because how can I live somewhere he’s never been? I feel like I’m stuck. I can’t move out of the world he lived in but the world is moving on even without him. And I’m just...I’m just here, Garcia.”

She nods sympathetically, placing her hand on your arm, “Maybe it’ll help when the case is wrapped up. When you have that closure.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Yeah. I hope so.”

“There’s something you’re not saying,” she says, gently, “And you don’t have to say it. But if you’re holding back because you feel guilty then you don’t have to feel guilty about anything you say to me, my darling.”

You start to well up then. The pressure in your chest is heavy, something akin to guilt. It slices into your chest, cut glass sitting between your ribs and slicing you open every time you breathe in. You’ve been thinking it a lot lately. Too much. It’s making you feel awful and you can’t decide if putting it out into the world verbally is going to be a release or make it feel too real.

Garcia waits patiently.

You decide to believe it’ll be the former, then whisper, “I wish I loved him less. I wish I’d loved him less so this wouldn’t hurt as much.”

And then the sobs come. The sobs that wrack your chest and sting your eyes and leave you looking like you’ve been on the receiving end of an upper cut. Because how could you? How could you possibly want to take back any of the love you had so willingly, freely, given to the person you loved most? What kind of person did it make you to want to take back the good memories: to wish that instead of having waffles on the couch that last Sunday, you’d had a fight about the library fine he’d gotten because of you? How could you want to switch the puzzle pieces to create a less idyllic picture of your life together, just so you wouldn’t feel so much loss when you looked at it?

She just rubs your back through it, knowing that no words can help but still saying the thing she thinks you need to hear most, “That doesn’t make you a bad person, sugar plum. That makes you human.”

***

4 months, 6 days, 14 hours.

Hotch calls you all into the briefing room.

“A few months ago a decision had to be made. Somebody had the potential to make an incredible breakthrough on a case that had been airtight for years. But it wasn’t possible for that individual to complete that work without cover. They needed to be officially gone,” Hotch’s voice booms but you swear you can hear a hesitation, “It wasn’t necessary at the time for you to have that information. Providing you with it would have compromised the safety of one of our agents, and the integrity of their investigation.”

You glance around the room, confused, noticing everyone is sharing the same bewildered look. Except Emily.

“I apologise completely for having to keep this from you, it was a decision that was not taken lately, and I did not have the final say. That being said, any discontent about this decision should be directed towards me,” he glances towards Emily, and she’s looking nervous now.

Hotch lets out a huff, somehow more tense than usual, “SSA Reid was not killed after the attack in Seattle. That was his cover, but he was investigating a case.”

He’s still talking but you can’t hear anything. SSA Reid was not killed. SSA Reid was not killed. You flip the sentence over a hundred times. And for the millionth time since SSA Reid was killed, you have no idea what you feel.

There’s uproar from everybody. Shouting. And then Hotch says something and everybody is looking at you, scanning you for a reaction and you have nothing. Nothing at all.

“Hi,” a voice from the doorway, nervous and shy, a voice you’ve only heard in dreams and voicemails and recordings from nights out that you must have watched hundreds of times by now, if they were tapes you would have worn them out long ago.

And you know you can’t face him. You can’t face any of them.

You look around the room, first at Hotch whose eyes flicker with what looks like remorse. Then, at Emily who just looks guilty as all hell. You don’t look at him. You can’t look at him.

The tension in the room is palpable but in your peripheral you see Garcia and J.J flock to the doorway, embracing him.

Rossi, is the one who comes to you, “____?”

You stare at him, completely blankly, “Yeah?”

“You need to speak to him. Need to hear him out.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, allowing him to help you to your feet. His reassuring hands on your shoulders turn you around and you meet his face. The face of the boyfriend you spent the last four months mourning while everybody watched you fall apart. And half of them knew.

So that’s what you feel. Anger.

“Glad you’re back,” you snipe, pushing past him, “Glad you’re alive.”

Everybody watches you go. A tense silence fills the room. Spencer clears his throat, after what feels like an eternity, muttering, “I-I’ll go after ... I’ll go and see if I can...”

It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, if he’s honest. Although he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been expecting.

“____ please, just let me talk to you, I’m sorry, please just let me have a chance to explain,” He manages to catch you at the elevator just in time, slipping through the gap with his lithe body, “Please. I need to explain. I need to apologise.”

“You can apologise as much as you want. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You’ll never deserve my forgiveness.”

The venom in your tone leaves him floundering.

“___ please,” he’s begging, and you won’t look at him because you can hear the tears in his voice and he’s begging again, “Please, please look at me, please listen to me. You have to understand, you have to give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’ve never been this angry at him before. But you are now. It consumes you, you’ve never understood a crime of passion before and you’re not going to put your hands on him, of course, but fuck do you understand it now. How a person could just snap. The rage swells in you, screaming. Every muscle in your body is tense. It takes all you have to ball your hands into fists, digging your nails into your palm so hard you’re sure they break the skin. You’re furious. Furious at every single one of them.

“You lied to me,” you spit, “You lied to me and let me think you were dead. You and Hotch and Emily. I didn’t sleep in our bed for four months, Spencer. I’ve spent the past four months frozen, like, I couldn’t move forward without you. I didn’t start to move on. I've spent the last four months falling apart and trying to find a way to put myself back together without you, and then what, you just come back? You think we can just go back to normal? Spencer, I didn’t feel alive this past few months. I’ve been floating through, barely keeping it together. And for what? A case? That was important enough for you to do this to me?"

It’s true, you’ve spent the last four months feeling like you were the one who died. That you were united in being ghosts, except you were haunting all the places you used to go together, and he was just haunting your dreams. And he’d been alive. This. Whole. Time.

You storm out of the lift, lifting your head to look at him for only the second time in four months, “Please. Just leave me alone. You’ve done enough.”

He knows you aren’t wrong. Knows he doesn’t know if he could forgive you if the roles were reversed. Knows, more than anything, that he’s really fucked things up. You’ll never forgive him. That’s what you said, and right now, seeing anger like never before in your eyes, he has no reason whatsoever to doubt that isn’t completely true.

You don’t even make it to the parking lot before you feel your resolve melt into absolutely nothing. Anger descending into relief, hot tears cascading down your cheeks as the mantra starts again on a new loop in your head: SSA Reid was not killed.

#spencer reid fanfic #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

[blossom-hwa]

hey lina!! happy four years and may your blog continue growing and for you to keep producing amazing works!!

i was wondering for your drabble requests, can i ask for yunho+yellow with the title “sunshine meets sunflowers”? congrats again for hitting four years!! 💞

hi love!! thank you so much for your kind words and for this request, it's so cute <3 I hope you enjoy it!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

ok looking back gina, this was so much fun to write - thank you thank you THANK YOU for requesting it!!!

~

Title: Sunlight Meets Sunflowers

Pairing: Yunho x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Triggers: none

~

Some days feel like they're caving in on you, the sky crashing to pieces on your head and slamming you down every time you try to get up. It hurts - those moments when you almost forget to pick Yuna up from school and have to make a frantic U-turn to get to the school, those moments where you're behind in work and can feel the looks of your coworkers searing into your back even if they don't exist as you frantically try to catch up after a late night spent trying to get your daughter to go to sleep.

You love her. You love her to the ends of the earth, your beautiful sunflower with the loveliest petals and shining face - more than once, you've held her in your arms and sworn to any being listening in the heavens that you would do anything to keep her safe. But you're only one person tackling a job meant for two, and sometimes, the nourishment you can provide your sunflower's roots just doesn't feel enough.

Because a flower can't only bloom with soil and water and nutrients. A sunflower, especially. It's in the name - the blooms follow the sun from east to west, tracing its path across the sky, and if there isn't enough sun...

The flower won't survive.

You do your best. When the petals begin to wilt with sickness or tiredness or just a little pout on your sunflower's lips, you do your best to soothe them, to help them recover their previous brightness. Sometimes it's hard, though - you can feel yourself wilting on the inside with every day that passes, and sometimes even Yuna's giggles and smiles and shouts of "Look what I just did!" can't fully soothe the knot of exhaustion growing in your chest. It’s not enough, you think, whatever you provide isn’t enough for a growing girl who needs more than it feels like you can give her -

Then you spill coffee all over yourself and another poor man at seven in the morning in the cafe just down the street, and that's how you meet the sun.

Yuna avoids all the mess - she was on your other side and thank god for that, or coffee would've stained her clothes and that would've been a nightmare to sort out - and by the time you've found the napkins you always keep at the bottom of your bag, she's already chattering away with him about the new dress she's wearing, the dress that's pink and purple and oh, Mr. person whose name I don't know, isn't it pretty?

It takes a lot for you to not scream into your hands at the moment, though the urge to scream is less out of frustration than sheer embarrassment - the man, whose name you don't know yet, is awfully handsome and has been listening to your daughter so attentively with a lovely smile on his face, so he gets double the bonus points for that. But he's laughing and complimenting her dress, and as he takes the napkins you hand over in apology, he introduces himself as Jung Yunho.

"I want to see Mr. Yunho again," Yuna announces as the three of you step out of the cafe, you having paid for a second drink to make up for the one Yunho lost. "Can I? Please?"

You cast him an apologetic look. "That depends on what he says, sweetie," you say, trying to figure out how to word this so that she won't cry. "I -"

"It's alright." Yunho says, and even though the sky is gray and covered in clouds, the smile on his face makes you feel like the sun is shining down on your skin. "I'd be happy to see her again." His smile turns a little sheepish. "She's adorable."

"Oh," is all you can manage at first, taken aback both by his willingness to give in to your daughter's demands and the fluttering feeling in your chest. "I - that would be nice, if it isn't too much trouble for you -"

"It's no trouble at all." Yunho looks down at Yuna, then back at you with that same smile never leaving his lips. "If you’d like, we can meet here again next week?"

The coffee shop becomes the regular place where you meet with the sun, letting the rays of his smile spread over your sunflower as she chatters away about anything and everything all at once. And as the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months...

You might say that with every time Yunho reminds you that you’re doing well, that Yuna loves you so much and that you’re enough for her, the dull ache in your chest has begun to heal, too.

Slowly, Yunho integrates himself into your and Yuna's lives, first as a passing acquaintance, then as a friend, then as something other than a friend, someone who sometimes stays into the late hours and refuses to take your bed when you insist he spend the night, opting instead for the couch that's much too small for his body. You alternate days for picking Yuna up from school. You sometimes stay over at his apartment. Yuna calls Yunho "Papa” on accident, again on accident, and then on purpose, again and again and again -

"Papa!" you hear Yuna yell from inside the apartment as you climb up the stairs after a long day at work, exhaustion weighing down your feet. But with the shout and the ensuing muffled giggles, you feel lighter and lighter with every step you take until you're just outside the door and can hear the chaos inside more clearly than ever.

The keys jingle in your hand as you pick out the right one to insert in the lock. You open the door, shut it behind you, and -

A shriek of delight sounds in the next room just before your sunflower comes bounding into your arms, before you even have the chance to take off your shoes. "You're home!"

"Yes, I am, sunflower." You kiss her forehead. "Did you miss me?"

"We both did." The sun appears next to the sunflower, kissing your forehead when you turn to him.

Holding your sunflower and being held by your sun, warmth blooms in your chest and you almost feel like you could fly, past the sky and past the clouds, light, free, ready to face anything in the world so long as you have them by your side.

You smile, and if there's a tear in your eye, neither of them says anything. "I missed you too."

#destinyversenet #kpopscape #ateez #atz #yunho #jung yunho #ateez yunho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez oneshots #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yunho oneshots #ateez yunho imagines #ateez x reader #ateez yunho x reader #yunho x reader #jung yunho x reader #drabble #fluff #single parent!au #sunshine meets sunflowers #4 year anniversary drabble game #lina answers #sunlightwoo #scriptura delirus

[hamliet]

RWBY and the Philosopher’s Stone

So, I finally watched RWBY after a friend name-dropped several characters and I was like wait... those names are alchemical. I was still pleasantly surprised to find out just how deeply rooted in alchemy the story is, from its characters to its plot structure. 

Background: alchemical structure is a type of story structure that focuses on inner transformation via outward obstacles. You can find it in literary traditions across the world, from Moxiang Tongxiu’s novels to A Song of Ice and Fire to Harry Potter to The Witcher to Trollhunters. Carl Jung incorporated it into his psychology. Daoism plays heavily into Chinese alchemy. The Wizard of Oz, one of RWBY’s main inspirations, is a blatant alchemy allegory. It’s everywhere, so it’s not surprising RWBY is drawing heavily on alchemy, but it is neat to see how blatant the references are. 

Thematically, the goal of alchemy is a metaphorical philosopher’s stone. The philosopher’s stone, in legend, is said to produce an elixir of eternal life, and to be able to transform “baser” metals into gold. 

In stories, when positive, as it usually is, this usually results in a character either overcoming death (see, Harry Potter) and/or transforming the world and others around him (Harry Potter saving his friends, etc.) But the journey from how they get from prima materia (raw material) to the philosopher’s stone? Now that’s the story. 

(When reversed, a metaphorical stone results in something that can destroy everything; see: the One Ring, also Salem, because Salem’s whole thing is that she cheapened the process of life and death, while alchemy states that death is a necessary part of achieving life.)

So, mostly I’m gonna talk about the symbolism I’ve seen so far and make some predictions for what’s likely to happen next in the story, and for the characters.

Each of the four main characters has a name that corresponds to one of the four phases of the Magnum Opus. “Blake Belladonna” refers to the nigredo, or black stage; “Weiss Schnee” to the albedo, or white stage; “Yang Xiao Long” to the citrinitas or yellow phase, and “Ruby Rose” to the final stage, rubedo, or red (Ruby’s name is quite literally taken from that stage). Naming them for these stages shows a dual purpose: while Ruby is the central character, she needs her team around her, and Team RWBY will save the world together. Team JNR is also a part of the stages, but I’ll get to what they represent later on. 

Jung associated each of the major stages with a major archetype. The major stages can be further broken up into a total of seven or twelve or even fourteen stages. Most commonly you’ll see George Ripley’s Twelve Gates referenced, and I believe that’s what RWBY is referencing as well since its allusions are pretty perfect. The "gates” or stages also sometimes overlap, especially when different characters might be at different stages. 

Nigredo: Seasons 1-3 

Alchemy begins by gathering the prima materia, or raw material. The characters assembling in season 1 is more of the gathering than the actual transformative process. But once we hit season 2, we dive straight into the process. 

Calcination occurs during the climax of season 2, during the fight on the train. Season 3 contains dissolution, or the washing of impurities through the exposure of certain secrets (like the fall maiden) as well as the literal dissolution of Beacon Academy, and separation (the end of the season, when Team RWBY is scattered). 

Narratively, Jung associated nigredo with the shadow, with someone’s dark night of the soul, their low point. In historical artistic depictions, often part of nigredo is dismemberment... which happens to Yang when she saves Blake from Adam. See, Splendor Solis: 

The goal of the shadow is that it should be integrated with, accepted, rather than denied. Facing the shadow is a necessary part of growth and ultimate transformation... and the point is, through facing the shadow, hope and light come.  

Peacock’s Tail: Seasons 4-5

Okay, I lied, there are sometimes five phases in alchemy. At the very end of nigredo, just before albedo, there is sometimes a flash of light, of rainbows and colors, that give hope. It’s not quite a phase, more of a moment, but it’s referred to as the peacock’s tail. While this is less plot-related, it does make sense that this is the point in the story where Team RJNR is formed. Why? Because look at their colors:

Ruby: red, black

Jaune: yellow, blue

Ren: green, purple

Nora: white, pink, orange

Between them we’ve pretty much got the full rainbow. 

We also have, in Blake’s arc, the introduction of Ilia Amitola, whose last name is the Souix word for “rainbow.” 

Albedo: Seasons 5-7

Albedo is associated with the anima or animus, or the part of ourselves that we are lacking (it’s generally gendered as the male within a female and the female within a male, but please understand he’s not talking literally and more in terms of traditional qualities ascribed as feminine or masculine that we may repress), which more than fits the fact that this stage begins while team RJNR is literally wandering around a continent called Anima. 

Conjunction is a term in which all the separated parts that can be salvaged from the Nigredo come together. Obviously the main incident for this is the fight at the end of volume 5, but I’d argue it overlaps a bit with volume 4 and even with separation.

The characters are only able to come together again once they’ve accepted aspects of their shadows. Yang deals with hers in Raven and Blake with the White Fang. Nora and Ren’s fight at their home village represents them dealing with their shadow as well, and also relates to conjunction because conjunction is the stage where the first chemical wedding comes into play. A chemical wedding is the joining of alchemical partners, and while I’ll probably discuss ships in another post (there’s a lot of set up alchemy-wise), I’ll just reference the obvious one here: 

The fountain image and a person shooting arrows is some pretty uncannily similar imagery to the fight at Nora and Ren’s home village. 

Next up in albedo is putrefication (focus on death and rotting). We see this with the encounter with the Apathy, who look like skeletons, cause death, etc. We’re also introduced to Maria Calaveras, aka the Grimm Reaper. (Her last name also means “skull” aka the white results of putrefication). 

Congelation requires a lot of water, and we see this in the focus on Atlas, wherein snow (water) is everywhere. The point of congelation is to separate the thin from the thick, the latter of which will of course become the Philosopher’s Stone. We see this through Team RWBY’s break with the Ace-Ops (aka the Aesops), whose simplistic morality and rule-following are not going to bring about character growth or eternal life. 

Citrinitas: Volume 7-?

Citrinitas focuses on the light, or fire. That immediately after congelation, a giant whale brimming with yellow appears in the white-colored Atlas is not a coincidence. Citrinitas is associated with the sage or the wise old man/woman, so Maria and Pietro fill this role. 

The first stage of citrinitas is cibation, which involves feeding with fresh material. I’d actually say that it seems quite possible cibation overlaps with congelation, in that there is a focus on food and on training with the Ace-Ops early in Volume 7. The next phases are sublimation and fermentation. I can see potential for sublimation in that it essentially is when solid becomes air (think of the setting of Atlas), but it’s too soon to say what this means for the plot. 

Fermentation, though... well, things will get worse before they get better. :’) 

Rubedo: 

Finally, Rubedo is associated with the fully individualized self. We can assume each of the main seven will come into their own, confident of whom they are. Oscar should, as well, and probably will have fully control over his body by the end (ie Oz will likely... find rest or whatever).

The stages of rubedo are exaltation (the creation of the stone after two contraries meet), multiplication (the stones’ properties increase), and projection (the stone’s abilities are projected over the entire world, aka presumably RWBY will save the world). 

The most common way to display multiplication is through, well, a lot of couplings. It’s why the main characters ending single seems extremely unlikely to me. Even if it seems a fairy tale ending, well.... *gestures to everything about RWBY being inspired by fairy tales* Fairy tales were also often alchemy based. But ships will get their own meta, because I actually don’t really ship much besides Renora and am for once not super invested in anything, but I can see the set-up for four or five ships.

I also want to highlight the other symbolic names that stood out to me: 

Ironwood. While I know Ironwood references the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz (tin being one of seven metals associated with alchemy), his name also references a second metal: Iron. Tin and Iron are the two of the three basest metals in alchemy (the other is lead). Iron in particular is ruled by Mars, the god of war, meaning it is associated with violence. It’s not a coincidence that pretty much from the second Ironwood is introduced, the concept of war comes up, and his entire character has gone on to be the embodiment of the military and violence. 

Tai Xiao Long. His name literally means “sun,” and Ruby’s mother is defined by her silver eyes (silver being a color traditionally associated with the moon). Ruby is thus considered the child of the Solar King and Lunar Queen, two mythical alchemical figures who together create the “Philosophical Child,” or the personified philosopher’s stone.

Pietro Polendina: his name literally means “stone,” and Penny is his philosopher’s stone. Penny is arguably a reference to copper, another of the seven metals, as copper references compassion and love, which seems like Penny to me. 

Qrow and Raven Branwen: crows and ravens are symbolic of nigredo, or the black phase; death, decay, etc. However, within the story I think Qrow and Raven fulfill this role as the Jungian shadows of hunters as a whole and of Yang. 

Sun Wukong: obviously a reference to the sun. 

Emerald Sustrai: Emerald is a reference to the Emerald Tablet, which in alchemical lore is a tablet containing the secrets of alchemy, as written down by Hermes (in legend). Hermes is, of course, Mercury. Everything about alchemy stems from the Emerald Tablet, so Emerald should be important. In addition, green is the color of the prima materia, so it references Emerald’s arc in being shaped and molded by Cinder. 

Mercury Black: Mercury as the mythological god is the legendary founder of alchemy, so like, he’s important. Mercury is also the third most important metal in alchemy, after gold and silver. It is necessary to achieving the philosopher’s stone so, like Emerald, Mercury is probably important. Mercury is of particular note because mercurial characters are common in alchemical literature: they make stuff happen. Think of Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, for example. Mercury transcends death symbolically (you can see the roots of this in Mercury’s backstory with his assassin father): it is difficult to pin down and can quickly shift from liquid to solid. Thus, in alchemy, mercury can shift between life and death. 

Mercury is also a noted servant of the white queen. I initially thought this a surface reference to Salem’s appearance, and it might be, but Salem is more associated with a black queen in the recurring chess motif, and I don’t see Mercury staying on her side (mercury isn’t fixed, after all; that’s its central tenet), so I kind of wonder if the “white queen” will be later revealed. Or maybe it just is a surface mention.

#rwby #rwby theory #rwby meta #rwby volume eight #rwby vol 8 #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #salem #tai xiao long #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #mercury black #emerald sustrai #qrow branwen #penny polendina #pietro polendina #alchemy #jung #raven branwen #james ironwood

[winterscaptain]

berry hill.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: i am so excited to share this one with you. the tropes are PACKED in here, and it was a blast to write. i also realized some time ago that i keep forgetting summaries on my works, so i’m gonna do my best to add those from now on. as always, let me know if there are any mistakes in here! thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster for helping me today <3  intended for the ‘a joyful future universe,’ but does not require context. takes place in 2011, early season six, prior to the valhalla arc.  words: 12k warnings: language, some vague mention of aaron’s anatomy, alcohol use, when i say slow burn i mean s l o w burn. 

summary: "...and there was only one bed."  - old fanfiction proverb

waldosia (part 2) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed! updated: january 5th, 2021

It’s way too late and you know it, but Jack is still on his annual winter vacation with Aunt Jess and the rest of the Brooks clan, so there’s simply no incentive to leave. You’re with Hotch at his desk, kicked back like you own the place, while he sits back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

The Montana case wrapped up neatly, and any remaining or incoming paperwork this week is light. Though it is admittedly weird without JJ, Seaver seems to be settling in alright. You’re glad that the team decided to take a chance on her like they did with you. 

“What do you mean he drew on the wall?” You say through a laugh, popping a grape in your mouth. “Are we talking like a crayon mark here and there or a full-on mural.”

“Multi-media mural - glue, paper mache, markers, crayons, you name it and it was there.” He laughs and he takes a grape from your bowl, kicking his feet up on the desk - mirroring you. “I have no idea how he managed it. I was in the house the whole time.”

“Oh my God, he’s a terror!” Before Aaron can agree, your phone starts ringing. You pick it up, smiling as you see the caller ID. 

“Hey Dean!” You stand and give Aaron a ‘sorry, just a second’ finger and step out of the office, leaving the door open behind you. You stay where Aaron can see you, leaning on the rail next to the stairs. You don’t really mean to stay within his eyeline, but it’s habit at this point. 

“Hey babe, I hope I’m not calling too late.” 

“Oh not at all. I’m still in the office with Hotch getting some work done.” 

You catch Hotch’s eye and he mouths ‘Work?’ and you shrug as if to say ‘It’s a loose term.’ He rolls his eyes and steals another one of your grapes. 

“Ah, I see. Late-night work with the hot boss-man.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. “So what’s up?”

He sighs, and you already know what’s coming before he says it. “Something came up at work and I won’t be able to make it to the wedding next week. We’re closing on this huge property in Georgetown and it’s really big for the firm and -“

“It’s okay. I get work stuff, trust me.” And you do. It just fucking sucks. 

“I’m so so sorry to leave you hanging. I know it’s going to be super rough. Maybe one of your work friends can go with you? Maybe boss man? His name’s Aaron, right? Hopscotch or something?” His humor doesn’t make you feel any better, but you promise to keep ‘Hopscotch’ for later.  

You tip your head up to stare at the ceiling and will the tears away from your eyes, blinking them back. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. None of them knew to ask off work, so if we have a case I’ll be on my own regardless.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Two tears fall out of the corner of your eyes, and you turn around, wiping them away. “It’s okay.” 

“I’ll call you day-of to check in, okay?”

Hotch watches you carefully, doing your best to hide your tears from him. Bad news, certainly, but he wishes you wouldn’t hide from him like you do. Or rather, he wishes you wouldn’t try to hide from him like you do. 

He can’t hear the entire conversation, obviously, but he resolves to do what he can to return at least a little of the care you always show him without hesitation, 

“Okay.” You heave an uneven sigh. “I’ll talk to you then... Really - don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” You hang up before he can respond and rest your forearms on the railing. You let your head hang for a second, collecting yourself before you have to face Hotch again. 

You take a deep breath and turn, sitting across from him again. Attempting to restore your good spirits, you kick your feet back up and have another grape. 

Hotch’s voice is quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” but your voice breaks. You clear your throat and blink a few more times. 

You can feel him squint at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, you know.” You sniff, and gesture vaguely as you continue. “My best friend from college was supposed to be my date to a friend’s wedding next week, and the friend getting married also happens to be someone I dated in college so I was really hoping Dean could come with me, and now…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

He’s quiet for a little while, and you shove some more grapes in your mouth to make up for the silence. You know each other so well, but it still feels a little weird to explicitly talk about your personal life in the office. Sure, you spend a fair few weekends together with Jack, but the whole thing is a little embarrassing - and you’re not sure if the worst part is admitting you have an ex-boyfriend from college or you now have to go stag to his wedding. 

“Do you want someone to go with you?” He watches you chew on your lower lip. A long time ago, he decided there was nothing worse than seeing you upset. 

This is the least you can do, Hotchner. First personal weekend in nearly four years, you can at least do what you can to make it suck less. He reasons with himself, but he can’t help the sly thought that sneaks in on the tail end. Being a backup is better than being nothing at all. 

That’s enough. 

You scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously.” 

He smiles a little, knowing you completely missed his point. “If you wanted…” He clears his throat and looks out the window, and you reply before he can continue. 

“Oh, God, Hotch.” You cover your face with your hands. “Please don’t feel like I’m trying to guilt you into anything. I’ll be fine.” You try to laugh it off, but can’t hide the anxiety in your voice. 

His laugh warms you. “You’re not guilting me into anything. I’m offering.” 

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. There’s an earnest sort of kindness in his eyes, and you find yourself a little short of breath. “Really?”

“Really. I can get the weekend off - things are pretty slow around here. Where is it?” You had trouble reading his tone. Really, he’s just treading carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured, or give away his own selfish motivations.

“It’s, ah,” you stutter for a second, getting your metaphorical feet back under you. “It’s down at Berry Hill Resort, right by the North Carolina border.” Your lip disappears between your teeth again. “It’s about a three and a half hour drive.” 

He opens his phone, and you know he’s checking the map. “It’d be easy enough if we left early and switched in Richmond. I’ll start, if you’d like.” 

You smile at him, wide and genuine. “Hotch, you’re the best.” 

+++

Hotch calls you up to his office, and you swing in, your hand gripping the doorframe. You bite back your greeting as you find him on the phone. 

He beckons you in and you step inside, closing the door behind you.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that along to the rest of the unit...You too, sir.” He hangs up and laces his fingers, addressing you. “Question.”

You sit, resting your elbows on his desk. “Answer.” 

“Funny.”

You smirk, and he continues. “I’m not sure if it matters to you, but I have an absurd number of ties. Color preference?”

A huff of laughter leaves you in disbelief. “You called me in here to ask whether or not I want to have a color scheme?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A united front, or at least a coordinated one, seems like the best strategy, right?”

+++

Aaron walks down from his office, his phone to his ear. You’re helping Ashley with a consult, walking her through your process just like Emily used to do with you. 

“Hotch usually likes to approach the profile starting with a demographic consideration, but I usually start from physical evidence and -”

A hand falls onto your shoulder, and you look up. “Yeah?”

He pulls the receiver away from his mouth. “Jack wants to talk to you.”

With a shake of your head and a fond smile for Hotch and an apologetic one for Ashley, you put the phone to your ear. “Hey, bud! How’s Grandpa’s house?”

“So fun,” Jack says, almost yelling into the phone. “Aunt Jess has let me play in the snow every day.”

You laugh. “I am so glad.” 

“Dad says you’re busy at work, but I miss you.” 

“Aw, bubba, I miss you, too. You’ll be home really soon, and when you get back we’ll go out to ice cream and you can tell me all about your visit.” You, for just a moment, forget where you are, and you lean back in your seat as if you’re leaning into Jack himself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you.” 

Your breath catches, and you keep our eyes firmly planted on your consult as you reply. “I love you too, bub. Here’s your dad.” Placing the phone in Hotch’s hand, you return your attention to Ashley and do your best not to acknowledge Aaron as he walks back up the stairs. “So, like I said, Hotch prefers to -”

“Hey.” Ashley stops you with a hand on your arm. “You’re really good at your job.” 

A confused smile pulls at your lips. There’s a question in your eyes, and she answers it. 

“Oh, I just...You’re a good teacher and a good friend, that’s all.” 

“Thanks, Seaver.”

+++

On a rare weeknight off, Emily and you gather at Penelope’s apartment. You’re all sitting on the floor, bottles of wine making an occasional rotation, and a pile of snacks on the floor taking up the space in the loose circle you’ve created. 

“You’re taking time off this weekend?” Penelope sounds almost insultingly surprised, as if the concept never occurred to her. 

You nod. “Yep. First time in four years, so I think I’m about due.” 

Emily laughs and asks. “Where are you going?” 

“I’ve been inexplicably invited to an ex-boyfriends wedding - he’s a friend from college and we were friends before we dated etc. etc.” You wave your hand as you speak, outlining the tedium of it all. “His mom loves me, and I suspect she was the one who added me to the list.” 

“Are you going with anyone? Penelope’s concern is touching. 

“Yeah. One of my college friends was supposed to be my date, but he bailed for a work thing.” All the girls roll their eyes and nod. They get it. “So, Ho - someone else - is going with me.” 

“Who?” Emily narrows her eyes and searches you. 

“Oh come on, profiling is against the rules.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure.” 

“Spill it.” Penelope throws a goldfish cracker at you to emphasize her point. 

You take a deep, long-suffering breath, suddenly missing JJ and her powers of redirection. “Fine. Hotch is coming with me -” you intercept their eager questions “- only as a favor.” 

“That’s very...thoughtful of him.” Emily’s chin tips up suggestively, and you throw Penelope’s goldfish at her. “Who’s idea was that?”

There’s a moment here somewhere, where you realize you’ve just dug yourself a hole you’ll be hard-pressed to get out of. “He overheard Dean bail, and offered. I’m sure he’s just doing it because he feels bad and -”

“Oh, don’t be stupid!” Penelope nearly falls into Emily, giggling. “I can’t believe you two.” 

You throw your hands in the air. “What?”

Both women share a look before looking back at you with identical disbelief. Emily speaks first. “You can’t be serious.” 

Take a deep breath. You’re not that obvious. 

Maybe you are. You’ve only been half-or-completely in love with him for five years. 

Shut up. 

“Serious about what?”

Emily rolls her eyes and finishes her second glass of wine, reaching to refill it immediately. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out eventually.” 

+++

You’re finishing your last bit of packing, leaving your toothbrush and toothpaste out for the morning, when your phone rings. 

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron.” 

“Ah, my saving grace,” you say with a laugh. “Calling to cancel on me, after all?”

His laugh just isn’t as good over the phone, but it’ll do. “Not even close. Is 6am still good to come get you?” 

“It’s so early.” There’s absolutely no shame in your whine, and you’re rewarded with another laugh. “But yes, that’s fine. That gives us enough time even if we hit some traffic out of the District and into Richmond.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You look at your suitcase, resting open on your bed. “You’re still okay with this, right? I know I couldn’t grab that extra hotel room for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured or -”

He cuts you off, calling you out by name. “Enough. I offered, remember? I’ll see you at 6. Bring a pillow so you can sleep in the car.”

Your lips pinch, holding back a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.” And he knows you don’t just mean it for the pillow reminder. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Of course. Sleep well.” 

You don’t, but are nevertheless ready with bells on, pillow tucked under your arm, and coffee in-hand at 5:55am the following morning. He looks surprised when he pulls into the driveway and sees you standing on your porch, looking only a little worse for wear. At least your teeth are brushed.  

“Thought you might want this.” You hold out the travel mug to him as he approaches, and he takes it (and your suitcase) from you. 

“Thank you. Jump in.” 

You follow instructions and immediately stuff your pillow between your head and the window as he throws your suitcase in the trunk. You’re forever grateful Aaron drives the same SUVs you all have at the bureau. He claims it’s easier to not think about different car specs, but at this moment you only care about the temperature control and familiar, soft leather seats. Your eyes shut on their own accord, still heavy even after your abbreviated morning routine. 

He slips into the driver’s seat and, with your eyes closed, you miss the way he looks over at you with a barely-there, fond smile. Your sweatshirt is too big for you and your face is adorably smushed into the pillow. 

With a sigh and shake of his head, he places his hand on the back of your seat, backs out of the driveway, and gets on the road. 

The silence gives him plenty of time to think about things he’d rather not address. This favor, for one, is something he’s still trying to reconcile. 

Would I have offered to Emily? JJ? Hell, Dave? 

If any other member of the team had a friend bail out of their role as a wedding date, he’d like to think he’d drop everything and take the weekend to make them feel better, but he knows that probably wouldn’t be the case in reality. He knew you were different, and it frustrated and confused him. 

As often as he acknowledges his love for you - he wishes it would just stop.  

Only a year and change had passed since Haley’s death, and there were still some mornings where he woke up and couldn’t breathe. Jack still had some nightmares too. Those broke his heart more than anything in the world, but he knew you would always pick up if he called - no matter the hour. 

It happened more often than he’d like to admit. 

“Hotch? Aaron? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.” 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.” 

You’d always talk to him about something or nothing at all, sometimes turning on your bedside lamp and reading from whatever book you were perusing before bed. 

He knows you understand. You were the only one there with him, when he found her body. You were there to take his son out of his bloodied hands. You were there when he was afraid of himself. 

The nightmares still come for you, too, sometimes. There are nights where Haley’s dark blue eyes stare into you, whether your eyes are open or closed. You told him that, once, and he was grateful - grateful that he wasn’t the only one. 

You murmur something in your sleep, about twenty minutes outside of the city. You’re still an hour or more away from Richmond, and Hotch figures he’ll let you sleep if you don’t wake up between now and then. It’s not a hard drive to Berry Hill, and you need the rest. 

Might be good to pick up some food on the way...

He turns the music off, letting the sounds of your breathing and the road wash over him. 

“Aaron.”

He turns, expecting your watchful eyes, but finds you burrowing further into the pillow, a little smile on your face as you remain blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Something warm starts to radiate in his chest as he looks back out at the road, the Virginia countryside stretching out in front of him, around him, and in every direction he can see. The warmth vibrates into his fingertips. He flexes his hands around the wheel, trying to shake it.

He fails. 

You’re not sure how you manage to sleep so soundly in the car. You had tossed and turned all night, thinking only of facing a part of your life you hoped you’d never address head-on ever again. Why you accepted the invitation at all (or why you even received one) was beyond you. 

It must be his mother’s doing. She always loved you, and she did her best to keep your friendship alive much longer than its natural death. 

Exercising control over her child’s life due to an exceptional lack of control and consistency during her upbringing. Relating to her son’s partners to achieve some semblance of intimacy without facing the root of her insecurity that she’s failed as a parent.

The profiling never stopped, it seemed. 

It wasn’t just the wedding keeping you up last night. The thought of spending the weekend with Aaron in an environment where you will inevitably feel (if not look and act) distraught close to the whole time still wears on you. Spending weekends at home, where you sit together with a glass of wine and leftover popcorn after Jack gets tucked in feels different. 

That’s comfortable. That’s safe. This? This is scary. Vulnerable. Burdensome.

Even then, there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side while you face friends you haven’t seen in ages. He’s charismatic, almost entirely unapproachable (when he wants to be), and tall. All those factors should be enough to keep anyone from trifling with you for the duration of the weekend. 

But now, in the car, all those thoughts are far from your mind. Your mind is blissfully dark and blank, your body soothed by the low hum of the car and the smell that follows Hotch wherever he goes - spicy, earthy, and something that reminds you of the air right before lightning strikes. 

The car slows, and the subtle change in ambiance wakes you. You lift your head, finding Hotch turning on an offramp. 

“Are we in Richmond already?” You ask, bleary. 

He smiles. His sunglasses are resting on his nose to combat the rapidly-rising morning sun. “Not yet, but I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

You tip your head. He’s right. “I could eat.” 

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You should eat.” 

+++

After food and a top-off for the gas tank, you offer to drive. 

Aaron refuses. “If you drive, I don’t get to pick the music.” 

“I thought shotgun picks the music.” You frown at him, admittedly still a little tired. You’ve shoved your pillow behind your seat and start to sit like an actual human being for the first time that morning. 

“Those are Morgan’s house rules, not mine.” 

“Ah,” you say, sagely. “I see. What are your house rules?”

There’s a smile behind his sunglasses. “Driver picks the music and critically considers any suggestions made by shotgun.” 

Thus, the Beatles’ White Album starts from the top. You can’t say you’re surprised - it is his favorite. You’ve grown rather fond of it yourself, if you’re honest, Though, you’re not sure if you fondness for the album has anything to do with the man beside you - the one who’s hair is soft and floppy in the morning light, the one wearing an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt, the one singing along under his breath.

“Why is this one your favorite?”  You hear yourself ask. 

He’s quiet for a minute, as if you are the first to ask that question. Maybe you are. “I’m...not sure. I think it might have something to do with my mom. She bought the record a couple of weeks after I was born in late ‘68, and made sure I had a copy when I got my own record player in my first college apartment.” He shrugs. “It’s been around just as long as I have, and there’s something a little - I don’t know - comforting about that?”

You nod. “I get that.” You’re quiet for a moment, considering all the things that happened in 1982. “Grease 2 came out the year I was born, so I can’t say I share a similar affinity for the pop culture phenomena of my birth year.” 

Hotch lets out a low whistle and a grimace. “That film really was awful.” He waits for your laugh and is rewarded before continuing. “I saw The Who on their final tour that year.” 

You furrow your brow. “Weren’t you like, barely in high school?”

He nods. “We snuck out, a couple of friends and me. It was really stupid and we got in a lot of trouble, but it was fun.” There’s a nostalgic smile on his face. “I have no idea how we managed to get all the way into the District, let alone find tickets, but everything was a little less complicated back then. Buses ran on time, people read maps, and parents didn’t all have cell phones.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk. “But of course, that’s before your time.” 

You roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m not that young. I remember the world before the mainstream internet and 9/11 and all that pre-Patriot Act shit. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, at least.” 

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough.” 

You lapse into silence for a little while, handing him fries from the drive-thru bag when he puts his open palm over the center console. You notice his left hand shift slightly in time with the music, and you watch a little more carefully. 

And I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know why Nobody told you How to unfold your love I don’t know how Someone controlled you They bought and sold you…

“Hotch, do you play guitar?” There’s a touch of disbelief in your tone, but you try to hide it for the sake of his pride. It’s not that you think he doesn’t have a musical or creative bone in his body, but you’re rather surprised by the relaxed subtlety of his movement. It was your impression he never did anything without thinking about it, and to see the slight, almost unconscious action sparks a pleasant little flicker of warmth in your chest. 

He shrugs. “I played a little when I was younger. I guess you could say I know how to play, but I don’t claim to be decent at it in the slightest.” His head tips, and you could swear you see an eye roll. “Sean’s always been better at those kinds of pursuits.” 

As usual, he doesn’t seem thrown or surprised by your question and doesn’t hesitate to answer them. After almost five years, he’s used to your keen observations. He’d never admit it, but he expects them - maybe he’s not able to guess at the content of the questions themselves, but he always knows there will be one eventually.

“Have you and Sean always butted heads?”

Aaron snorts, and gives you a simple, “Yes.” 

You’d never met the younger Hotchner, but you’d seen photos and heard tell. From what you understand, he’s a little wilder than his older brother, a little more idealistic and far less practical. Sean seems like someone you would like, but you doubt he would rise to the top of your Favorite Hotchners List - a list with only two names so far, tied for first. 

It’s safe to say Jack and Aaron are hard acts to follow. 

+++

You talk about everything and nothing, when finally, he asks. “So, who is this guy?”

“Ugh.” You tip your head against the seat. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. Isn’t it protocol to brief the team before arrival?”

You snort, immediately regretting your decision to make fun of Strauss over drinks last week. “Yes, sir.” 

He laughs, and you tell him. 

You tell him about Austin and how you met in a random general education class and became fast friends and started dating, talked about marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. You told him about your semester abroad, your traveling, and returning home to find he’d been dating someone else while you were away, without your knowledge. 

“It’s kind of cliche, I know, but it broke my heart in half.” You laugh a little to cover the truth of it. Hotch keeps his eyes on the road, letting you go at your own pace the same way you let him the entire time he’s known you. “I was really close to his family, and we did our best to remain civil and friendly for everyone else’s sake, but we’ve only kept in touch through other people the last few years.

“I think his mom sent the invitation. I mostly accepted because I’d love to see her and Austin’s little sister - I miss them the most.” 

“What are they like?”

There’s a smile on your face as you tell him about them - how Allison likes more cream than actual coffee in her mug, how their mom has the best taste in books and still sends you worn copies of her favorites every once and awhile. 

“It’s good of you to keep in touch.” 

You shrug. “I guess. I mean, I know it’s different, but you have Jess.”

The difference, he decides, is that you are kinder, more patient than he is. Jess would hardly be in his life at all if Haley was still here. He had a hard enough time keeping up with Haley’s family when they were married. Keeping up with them after the divorce? 

There was no way to know, but he can’t remember much affection between them even before Haley’s father decided to hold him personally responsible for her death. 

You notice his preoccupation, and reach out. Your thumb traces back and forth over the skin of his bare forearm. “It’s different now, and it would be different then. There’s no right way to do anything.” 

He exhales in a huff, and you bring your hand back into your lap. “I spent almost twenty-five years knowing Haley. You know that?”

“I do. I also know you spent longer than twenty-five loving her, and probably won’t ever stop.” 

There’s a sigh, and then an elbow on the center console. He leans heavily on it, and you do your best to keep your hands to yourself. “How do you know everything?” He asks. 

You rest your head against the seat and adjust so your body is angled toward him. A small smile crosses your face as you take in his profile - relaxed, his wrist hanging loosely on the wheel, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I dunno. I guess I just pay attention.” 

+++

You let out an exhausted exhale upon reaching the room you will share with Aaron for the weekend. One king size bed dominates the room, instead of the two doubles you halfway expected. He recovers faster than you do, shrugging and setting his things down on the left side of the bed, closest to the door. 

Instinctively and completely without previous confirmation, you kind of figured he sleeps on the left side. The realization of that fact is a little unsettling, but you follow his lead and set your suitcase on the stand opposite his, unzipping it and unfolding your garment bag. 

There’s a small part of you that’s pleased by this arrangement. Another part of you shames that part. 

He’s going to think you’re taking advantage of him. 

Are you kidding? He’s a SWAT-trained senior FBI agent. And a lawyer. It’s impossible to take advantage of him. 

Yeah, of course that’s what he wants you to think. 

Do you ever shut up?

Your outfits for the cocktail hour and the ceremony day are all set. So are Hotch’s, apparently. You look over to find him hanging a grey pinstripe suit in the closet you’d never seen before. It looks beautifully tailored, and expensive. 

“Mind if I take up some real estate?” You ask, holding up your handful of hangers. He shakes his head and makes some space for you. 

When you’re all settled, you sit on the bed, still tired. It doesn’t make any sense, seeing as Aaron insisted on driving the entire way. 

“What time is our first obligation?”

You huff a laugh at his rhetoric. “5pm. Cocktails at the hotel bar. Rehearsal dinner after that is wedding-party-only, thank God.” Glancing at the clock, you confirm, “We basically have the day to ourselves until then.” 

He nods thoughtfully before meeting your eyes over your shoulder. “How do you feel about a nap?” 

I love you. 

Shut up. 

You can’t imagine how tired he is - working off minimal sleep and coming off a drive just shy of four hours long. “I feel great about a nap.” 

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he picks up a pair of flannel pajama pants from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom. 

Oh my god. Oh my god. 

You quickly shuck your sweatshirt, suddenly too warm. Standing, you cross to the window and draw the blinds, covering the room in a kind of gentle shade that isn’t quite darkness. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers, thankful you never really changed out of your pajamas. Curling up facing the bathroom door, you try to stay awake until Hotch returns, but your eyes close of their own accord.

Hotch leaves the bathroom to find the room darkened and you under the covers, dead to the world. He takes another moment to look at you, the way your brow sits smooth and relaxed above your closed eyes, your hands curled loosely in front of your face, the way your breath evenly comes and goes past the curve of your lips. 

Taking the risk, he places his jeans back into his duffle bag and gingerly stretches out on top of the covers beside you. His eyes close eventually, but he can’t remember falling asleep - entirely preoccupied by the phenomenon before him. 

+++

When you stir again, your hands are warm. You take a deep breath and your eyes crack open, finding a sight that steals your breath. Hotch is on his side in front of you, ramrod straight, with your hands clasped between his. Your heads are bowed together - not touching, but close. 

There’s no memory of him joining you in the massive bed, nor any recollection of contact, so he either held your hands on his own, or you found each other in sleep. 

You’re not sure which one makes your heart flutter faster.

Resolving to get a little more sleep, you close your eyes. Only moments later, you feel him stir beside you. You know he’s watching you, and you endeavor to keep your breath even and slow, hoping he can’t hear the racing of your heart. 

He releases one of your hands, and you let it drop down to the cover, praying your fingers don’t twitch. 

You’re proud of yourself when you don’t flinch as his fingers brush butterfly-soft against your cheek, tracing from your brow bone, down your nose and across your lips. Impossibly gentle touches find their way down your temple to your jaw before disappearing. 

His hand closes around yours again and it takes everything you have to keep your breath steady as he presses his lips to your fingers before tucking them back to his chest. When his breath evens out again, you know he’s asleep. 

You open your eyes, thinking it's more than high time to study him for a change. 

He looks years younger in his sleep, closer to your age than his. Even awake, he hardly looks the picture of a father in his mid-forties. His graceful aging is more obvious when his face isn’t drawn up in stress or that aching kind of sadness that lingers around him. 

Curious about what he saw and felt on your face, you follow his path, slipping your hand out from under his, tracing his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his handsome, straight nose. 

Your finger rests lightly on his cupid’s bow for a moment, his breath rushing slow and warm over your hand. The feeling of his breath stalls yours, and you swallow. The next breath you take is almost a sob, and you press your lips into a thin line. Light fingers brush through the hair at his temples, the sparse, soft silver strands seeming to glow in the low light. 

What you don’t know, however, is that he has taken a page out of your book. Though his eyes are closed and his breath even, he is very much awake, heart pounding. He’s sure you can hear it, or even feel it, with your remaining hand still trapped between his. 

The catch in your breath makes his chest ache. Even then, his eyes remain closed, and he’s mindful of his breath. With the route you take, tracing his features, he realizes with a shock of adrenaline and cold panic that you were probably awake, playing at sleep then as he was now. 

If that was the case, you know how he feels about you. He knows how you feel about him. 

But you can’t. You don’t want to take up space in his life he doesn’t have, space better used to heal, space reserved for his son. 

He can’t. It's too soon. He can’t subject you to the ghosts, the baggage, the long journey to wholeness he’s endeavored to embark upon with only his son at his side. 

The new normal, his therapist had told him, is the hardest thing to find. 

He was sure, then, that it would be easier to find the new normal on his own, but he wasn’t so sure, now. 

You slip your hands away from him entirely and roll over, making play at rising. You check the time on your phone, finding the early afternoon awaiting you. 

There’s a deep breath and a stretching noise, and you turn to find Aaron rolled over on his back, his hands laced behind his head. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding normal. 

A smile plays at his lips. He looks like he knows something. “Good afternoon.” 

“So, tonight.” You decide it’s best to move on before anyone admits anything they don’t mean to share. “Do you just want to be ‘work friends’ or do we want to lean into the whole ‘let’s ruin Austin’s life’ thing?”

He laughs a little. “I’m comfortable leaning in if you are.” 

+++

The cocktail hour isn’t as horrible as you thought it would be. Aaron sticks to your side like glue, your right hand firmly placed in the crook of his arm while your left babysits a small glass of wine, more for show than for anything else. 

You hear your name from across the room, and you see a huddle of some old friends and their respective dates. Aaron tips his head down to get the briefing, and you tell him names, relationships, and brief histories as you approach. 

As you expected, he’s warm and charming, taking cues from you as you navigate eight years of catch-up with classmates you remember well and alleged classmates you don’t recognize at all. 

“How did you two meet?” The woman asks (You’re certain she’s someone’s sister - Hotch caught her name while you missed it. Oops.). 

You glance up at Aaron for a second before answering. “We’re in the same department at work.” 

The man with her takes a sip of his drink. Him, you kind of recognize. Casey? Carson? Maybe. “Where is that, again? I can’t remember where you landed after your internship.” 

“DoJ, in Quantico.” 

Leslie, who you met in guided research your senior year, rolls her eyes. “They work for the FBI, Carson, keep up.” 

Carson, that’s it. 

“No shit!” 

A small group has gathered around you, and you shuffle closer to Aaron. He wraps his arm around your waist and steps a little behind you, protective and secure. 

“Shit,” you reply, jostling Aaron with your shoulder. “We don’t have our creds on us tonight, so if you get arrested you’ll have to bail yourselves out.” 

“We also don’t have jurisdiction even if we did, so keep it high and tight and we’ll all do just fine.” Aaron’s voice rumbles through you with a laugh, and you take an overlarge sip of wine. 

He really shouldn’t say things like high and tight with his hand where it is. 

And his hand isn’t really in any kind of questionable location, just resting above your hip with his chest to your back, but it's still more contact than you’re used to. He wasn’t joking about leaning in. 

“There he is!” Carson crows, and your head whips around. You almost lose your balance, but Hotch keeps his feet. A warm hand presses to your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. You know he can hear you, and he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Always.” 

It’s just an act. He doesn't mean it. He can’t mean it. 

Austin approaches with his drop-dead gorgeous fiancee and a smile. 

Aaron releases you as Austin gives you a warmer hug than you were expecting, and examines Hotch over your shoulder. He introduces you to his fiancee (Madeline), and you introduce them both to Aaron. 

“Austin, this is my…” you pause, realizing you never actually established a cover story, letting the implication speak for itself. “Aaron.” You recover with a light laugh, and Aaron pulls you to him with one hand while he shakes Austin’s with the other. 

You try not to smirk at the grimace that flashes across Austin’s face when Aaron’s hand closes around his in a very firm and assertive handshake. “Pleasure. Congratulations.” 

Austin laughs, a little uncomfortable, and stretches his hand once it reaches his side again. “Thanks. We’re really glad you both could make it. Mom will be really happy to see you.” 

+++

“That could have been so much worse.” You shuck Aaron’s blazer off your shoulders and hang it in the closet as he passes behind you. He’d passed it to you when you shivered slightly at the bar and it wasn’t even a point of conversation. It had been second nature to him, draping it over you and placing a hand on your back. The memory pulls a smile from your lips. “Thank you for enduring the mayhem down there.” 

Aaron sits on the bed and slips off his boots. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a social event that didn’t directly affect my career trajectory.” He looks up at you, and his grin makes your heart skip around in your chest. 

You shake your head, walking past him to retrieve your pajamas and toothbrush. “Do you ever want to move up the chain at all?”

“Not really. Something big would have to change to get me to leave the BAU.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “We tried that, remember?”

“I do, actually.” At his chuckle, you continue. “I can’t say that’s something I’d like to relive anytime soon.” 

You move easily around each other, changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth and getting otherwise ready for bed. He’s cute at night, with his pajamas and floppy hair and big yawns. It’s not like you haven’t seen this side of him before, what with all the late nights watching movies with Jack, but it is significant that it’s just the two of you. He’s not Jack’s Dad right now, or Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner who won’t go to bed until The Case Is Solved, but Aaron. 

Sleepy, charming, funny Aaron. 

Eventually, you throw back the covers and crawl in without thinking about it too much, while Aaron lingers in the bathroom doorway. 

“I really can take the couch.”

You look at him and pointedly turn off the lamp resting on your side table. “We’re adults. I don’t mind it if you don’t. And for that matter, if either one of us is sleeping on the couch it’s me.” 

“Oh?” He asks. “Why’s that?”

“Because as you so astutely pointed out earlier, I am significantly younger than you, and I think my back will fare better than yours after a night of lumpy cushions.” 

The bathroom light flips off, and you hear a scoff in the dark. “Never once did I say significantly younger.” 

“Well, Aaron, ‘before your time’ is rife with implication.” 

The mattress dips beside you, and his form takes shape in the darkness, facing you. Before he can speak again, you cut him off. 

“You know what? Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to, and I would hate for you to go full-tilt lawyer on me.” You curl up, bringing the covers to your chin. He laughs, and you can almost pretend that this is your life, that you get to fall asleep beside Aaron every night. 

Don’t get comfortable. 

Why not? He’s here, isn’t he?

He is, but not like that. This is a favor for a friend, nothing more. 

You’re both quiet for a little while, listening to each other breathe in the dark. There’s a sigh, and you belatedly realize it came from you. 

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice floats to you in the dark, and you nod. “I know this isn’t easy for you.” 

You think for a moment, trying to articulate your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re here with me this weekend.” A hand reaches out, and you find it. 

“Of course. I’m glad I can be here for you.” He means it. The trust you’ve placed in him does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Your willingness to be vulnerable and funny and so yourself is a precious gift to him, and one he’ll never take for granted. “Thank you for letting me come.” 

I’d like to let you come -

Ew, dude. 

What?

Now is not the time. 

“With that in mind,” he continues, his voice gentle in the dark, “I’m really proud of you. And not in a ‘I’m your boss and you’re making significant progress,’ way. As your friend, I’m really proud of you.”

Your friend. 

He is your friend. 

I know but that…sucks. 

It doesn’t have to. 

There’s something in his voice that almost makes you stupid, but you hold your tongue. “Goodnight, Hotch.” 

He takes a deep breath, missing the way his first name fits in your mouth. It sounds safe there, like you’d never use it against him. “Goodnight.” 

+++

You feel warm and feeling somewhat constricted, but not uncomfortable. There’s weight at your back and an arm around your waist, and you lean into it in your state of half-wakefulness. A little noise leaves the body behind you, almost like a sigh with tone. 

Remembering where you are, you resist the instinct to jump. Hotch is wrapped around you like a koala, his knee between yours, one arm under your head and the other around your waist, face buried into the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

His hair smells divine, and he’s so warm. 

Your theory from yesterday morning seems confirmed - you definitely didn’t fall asleep touching each other, so you must have found each other in the night. The thought warms you, and you close your eyes again.

The ceremony isn’t until the early afternoon, so you have all the time in the world to doze and prepare for the hellscape of the day. 

That’s not a fair assessment. You think, and correct yourself. 

If the prior evening was any indication, things would go smoothly. Aaron was the world’s best wingman. He kept conversation flowing and took your cues without a second’s hesitation. Everyone loved him, and people asked you all night how you met, how long you’d known each other, how long you’d been together. The first questions were easy, but the last one was one you hadn’t prepared for. He, of course, had an answer for all three. 

“We work together.” 

“We met, what? Five years ago now? Maybe a little more?”

“We’ve been partners for almost four years.” 

And...he wasn’t lying. You always paired off with him at work, whether naturally or by assignment. His lack of specifics in defining your relationship both settled and raised your blood pressure, depending on the way you decided to approach it. The words accompanied an affectionate squeeze around your waist or a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You know he’s just playing the part for the weekend and everything will go back to normal when you get home. 

But God, he’s good at it. 

You almost believe him.

He’s still sleeping behind you, his breath fanning slow and even across your shoulder. You’re both fully clothed, but there’s something intimate about it. Sleep, you think, is inherently vulnerable, inherently a trusting state. You two not only managed to fall asleep in the same bed, but woke up tangled together. 

You drop your hand to your waist and rest your hand on top of his, falling back into sleep without too much thought. 

When Hotch wakes, it’s thankfully late. He’s far too comfortable to be in a hotel bed, but quickly realizes it’s not the mattress. You’re wrapped in his arms, and for a split second he almost panics, concerned that you’ll wake to find him glommed onto you like some kind of ridiculous backpack. 

But then he remembers the way your fingers traced his face when you were sure he was asleep, the way you leaned into him the night before - taking shelter in his willing arms. 

He feels your fingers pushed between his, your palm warm against the back of his hand, holding him to you.

He’s fucked. He’s totally and completely fucked. He’s even more fucked to even consider the possibility you’re fucked, too. 

How could you possibly want him? A man nearly fifteen years older than you, with one failed marriage under his belt, an inability to tear himself away from his work, and more than enough trauma to drown in is hardly the ideal partner for someone as vibrant as you, with so much life yet to live.

And yet, it’s so hard to imagine a life without you. Whenever he looks into his future, he sees you there with him. It’s far too easy to let himself fall into the fantasy as you peacefully sleep in his arms with your fingers laced together. 

You shift a little in your sleep, and he arches his back a little, definitely trying to keep you away from...certain parts of his anatomy that are a little more awake than the rest of him. 

Quit while you’re ahead, Hotchner. 

He very gingerly disentangles himself from you, and he’s pleased when he only gets a few sleepy protests in return. The shower is calling his name, for more than one reason including but not limited to the uncomfortable tightness of his flannel pajama pants. 

With one last lingering glance at you, he picks up his toiletries and locks himself in the bathroom for a long (very) hot shower, followed by a much shorter (very) cold shower. 

While he’s gone, you stir and stretch your arms over your head. A little disoriented, you find his side of the bed empty but not quite cold before you hear the running water of the shower. 

What if you just - 

Do not finish that thought. 

You are not one iota of fun. 

Reaching for your bag, you pull your laptop out and get started on some emails. You have a couple from Seaver and one from Emily.

You sigh and pull out your phone. 

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, Em. You wanted me to call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how things are going down there.” her voice is the picture of forced nonchalance, and you can almost hear Penelope leaning over her shoulder. 

You laugh into the phone and trace patterns on the bedspread. “Things are going well. Hotch was the perfect gentleman last night, and we have the ceremony and reception today. We head home tomorrow morning.” 

“Has anything happened? Where is he right now?”

“He’s in the shower. And no, don’t be ridiculous.” You shove your phone under your chin and answer all of Ashley’s questions in confident keystrokes. “You and I both know he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

Aaron pauses in the bathroom, in the middle of towel-drying his hair. With a smile, he overhears: “...he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.” 

He can’t hear the response, but he does hear you when you say. “My God, Em. Would you quit?” 

Ah. So it is Emily. 

“I’m not going to do anything about it because there’s nothing to do anything about...Don’t give me that...You have absolutely no proof...I don’t care if you’re a profiler or not, there is no way you can say with any definitive certainty -” You pause, and your voice drops to a low murmur he can’t hear over the hum of the bathroom fan. 

With a frustrated huff, he ties the towel around his waist and ventures out, entirely aware of his state of undress. 

You’re so glad you drop your voice to finish your thought (“- that he’s in love with me. Don’t be stupid.”) because the door opens and you are immediately confronted with Aaron Hotchner in a towel and every single coherent thought flies out of your head. He smiles a little at you, and something in you melts. 

“Are you good?” Emily’s voice is full of laughter. 

The heat rises in your cheeks and you whip your head back to your laptop, typing just for something to do with your hands. “Yeah, for sure.” 

“He just walked out wearing a towel, didn’t he?”

“Emily, you know I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You roll your eyes, and miss the smirk on Hotch’s face as he grabs his hanging clothes from the closet.

“So that’s a yes.” 

+++

Austin’s family clearly spared no expense for either the ceremony or the reception. You and Aaron had walked in arm-in-arm to find a spot on the groom’s side near the back. It’s still weird - there was a time where you thought for sure Austin was the be-all-end all for you. 

But here you are, sitting next to Aaron. He’s wearing that beautiful suit that looks even better on him than it did on the hanger (and that’s saying something). As promised, his tie matches your outfit, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it made your heart all warm watching him put it on. 

The ceremony itself is a blur. You stand and sit when you’re supposed to, and spend the vows with your head on Aaron’s shoulder - playing the role, of course. You take a few unsteady breaths, caught off guard by how affected you are by the ritual of it all. 

You don’t love Austin anymore, not by a long shot. That said, the reminder that you’re not married to anybody but work and rapidly approaching thirty is unpleasant. 

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s whisper doesn’t carry far. 

You nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.” 

“About?”

You shake your head, the soft wool of his suit jacket pressing into your temple. “Later.” 

His cheek presses to your hair for just a moment. He’s not worried about you, per se, but he’s never seen you in this existentially forlorn state before. It’s a feeling he recognizes in himself, but to see it on you makes him feel a new kind of helpless. 

+++

You’re at the open bar, snagging a glass of wine for yourself and two fingers of whiskey for Aaron (the good stuff, of course), when Austin’s mother warmly accosts you. 

“Darling!” 

Against your will, a genuine smile breaks out across your face. “Hey, Laurie!” You set the drinks down and embrace her, the familiar smell of her perfume engulfing you. Suddenly, you feel nineteen years old again. “Congratulations.” 

She pulls back and waves off your good wishes. “Oh, please. I haven’t done anything.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “I beg to differ, but alright.” 

She takes you under her arm and holds you close to her. “So.” Her tone is conspiratorial, as if a great plot is to unfold before you. “Who is that devastatingly handsome man you’ve brought with you to shame my son?” 

“I did not bring him to shame your son, he offered to come when my original date bailed. You remember Dean?”

“Of course. Such a sweet boy. Still married to his work?”

You shake your head. “I would be...hypocritical of me to get upset with him for that. My work at the bureau keeps me plenty busy. If I’m honest, this is the first personal time I’ve used in four years.” 

She squeezes you for a half-second. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.” Her lips purse. “But don’t think you can get out of telling me about that fine, fine man over there.” 

“His name is Aaron,” you start, fighting a smile. “We work together at the bureau and he’s just a friend, Laurie, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I always have ideas. Now, introduce me so I can see for myself.” 

With a long-suffering sigh, you grab the drinks off the bar and lead her to the table, where Aaron sits with his fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth, his elbow on the table and ankle crossed over his knee. Approaching from behind him, you set the whiskey down where he can’t knock it over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Aaron.”

He turns, and a broad smile breaks out over his face. You’re sure he’s just being polite - you’ve never seen him smile so much. Offering a hand to Laurie, he stands. “SSA Aaron Hotchner. Thank you for having us. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” She laughs lightly and takes his hand in both of our own. “Laurie Miller. As I’m sure you know, I have a great amount of love for this one here.” She releases Aaron’s hand and tucks you into her arms again, kissing your cheek. You laugh, tickled by her demonstrative affection designed only to embarrass you. 

“C’mon, Laur. You don’t have to lie for my benefit.”

You try to ignore the fondness in Aaron’s eyes as he watches the two of you, Laurie cooing over you and your successes. She returns her focus back to Aaron. “Sit, sit and tell me what you crazy kids get up to over there in Quantico.” 

Aaron sits and relaxes back into his chair, resting his arm on the back of your seat. You lean forward with your elbows on the table, your hands propping up your head. Aaron’s a great storyteller, of course, and it’s so interesting to watch him talk about work outside of the context itself. He seems to bloom - effusive, charming, and warm - before you. 

When you look at him, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“...Preventing loss of life is always rewarding, and our team is a family.” 

Laurie is clearly enamored, completely drawn into his gentle description of your very-stressful and often-gritty line of work. “It’s so lovely you have so much fondness for each other. I imagine it makes everything much easier.” 

He nods, and glances at you. “It does.” 

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you excuse yourself with a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“Dean, you bastard!” You answer. Hotch’s huff of laughter tells you he overheard it, but he picks up right where he left off with Laurie. 

As you step out onto the banquet hall balcony, almost feel bad leaving him to his own devices, but then you remember all the times he’s been left alone with serial killers and you feel much better. 

“Hey babe! Are you surviving? Are you alone? Tell me everything.” 

You laugh into the phone. “I’m doing alright. Hotch actually offered to come with me. I just stepped out, but he’s in there holding his own well enough.”

“Oh my god. When I said that I didn’t actually think you’d do it!”

“What do you mean?” You look up and out over the property, and the views are simply breathtaking. The moonlight falling across the Virginia landscape almost makes the world look like it’s holding its breath. 

What it’s waiting for... you’re not sure. 

“When I said bring your hot boss to the wedding I was joking. You didn’t ask him, did you?”

You let out a snort and it almost disrupts the peace of the evening. “Of course not. He offered.”

“I have never met a pair of people so fucking stupid in all my life.” 

“You’ve never met Hotch, idiot.” 

“Don’t have to,” Dean says. “I know you are you’re dumb enough for the both of you.” 

+++

When the dancing starts, you’re understandably resistant. The playlist is a playful mix of contemporary and classic music, and you can’t help but laugh when Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) starts to play. 

Aaron stands and offers you his hand. You take his hand without thinking, belatedly realizing his intentions. 

“Hotch, you can’t be serious.” You stop dead in your tracks, but his grip on your fingers stays firm as he looks back at you with a look of humorous disbelief on his face. 

“When have you ever known me to be otherwise?” He tugs you forward, and you fall into his arms with a huff. “Humor me. Just one and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

You glare at him, dubious. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying.” 

And at the end of the day, you can’t refuse him anything - especially when he smiles at you like that. 

He’s an excellent dancer. Your grip on his shoulder slowly loosens as you grow more comfortable, trusting him to lead you around the dance floor. He holds you tight, his movement playful in a way that’s almost foreign to you. 

You’ve seen him dance exactly once, at Haley’s 39th birthday party, the summer before she died. 

You catch sight of Austin and Madeline on the other side of the dance floor and avert your gaze when you find Austin looking back at you. 

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is low, almost a laugh.

Your eyes snap to Aaron’s. “What?”

“Relax.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you scoff. 

He rolls his eyes and throws you out by one arm, spinning you so your back is to his chest. “I’m plenty relaxed. You are tense.” 

The feeling of his heartbeat against your back ruins your resolve and you relent. “It just feels weird.”

“What does?” He spins you back out and pulls you close. You try not to be too distracted by the proximity of his face to yours when you land back against his chest, you hand resting over his heart.  

“I just -” you push through your reluctance and admit, “I don’t love him in that way anymore, but it’s super weird to even think that I could have ever thought he was it for me. And now he’s with someone he loves and both of our lives just...kept going after we split, you know?” You shake your head, scattering your thoughts. 

He nods. “I do.”

You believe him. The very concept of his heartbreak with Haley - the separation, the anger, the divorce, her death, the love - is overwhelming. You know he understands. 

The silence that lapses between you is comfortable. 

Yeah, I've done a lot of foolish things That I really didn't mean I could be a broken man Here I am, baby...

When he turns you under his arm, you laugh until you can’t breathe. There’s a smile on his face, too, and there’s something warm and inexplicable about it. You turn the tables on him, turning him under your arm and pulling him back to you.

The song changes to something slower and, true to his word, Aaron keeps you out on the dance floor. You’re exhausted all of a sudden, and your eyes close as you rest your head against his shoulder. 

“Thank you for being here with me.” 

You’re only sure you spoke aloud when Aaron replies, “Of course.”

+++

Your feet ache when you finally call it quits and head upstairs to your room for the night. Aaron’s suit jacket had long since left him, leaving him rolled sleeves and a loose tie with his top two buttons undone. It traveled from the back of his chair to where it now rests, slung over his arm.

You look over your shoulder as you slip your shoes off. “You look positively rumpled, Agent Hotchner.” 

He lets out a laugh, and it makes your breath catch. His laugh always takes you by surprise; it’s much brighter and higher than his speaking register, and frankly, adorable. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime.” And it was true - you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d known him to actually sleep, especially on a case. You could neither confirm nor deny that he even needed it to function prior to this weekend. 

The thought makes your cheeks a little warm, and you turn away from him, setting aside your pajamas and packing the rest of your items. 

There’s a little chuckle behind you before the bathroom door closes and the shower starts up. 

When Aaron leaves the bathroom, his hair wet and pajamas on, you’re asleep. Curled up on top of the covers, out like a light. 

He flips all the switches, leaving the room in darkness. Creeping to your side of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down, gingerly shuffling your legs underneath, followed by your torso. You stir a little, and catch his hand as he moves to tuck your hands under the covers. 

His eyes close, just for a moment, before slipping his hand out of yours. He’s already dreading going back to his empty apartment tomorrow afternoon. 

That feeling is only amplified when you curl up against his chest as soon as he’s settled under the covers, your leg hooked over his. 

+++

You wake up warm again, and snuggle into the body beside you. Arms tighten around you, and you remember where you are and who you’re with. Unlike yesterday, you can’t pretend to be asleep - when you look up, Hotch is awake, brown eyes looking down at you. 

“Good morning,” he says. 

You tuck your face back into his chest. “I’m sorry - I’m clingy when I sleep.” 

His laugh sings over the crown of your head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” 

Don't read into that. 

I’m going to. 

Don’t. 

Fuck. 

“What time is it?” You crane your neck and look at the clock on his bedside table, but you can’t quite see with his arm in the way. 

“Just before nine. We have an hour before checkout. Want to get packed, grab some breakfast, and head out? I’ll drive.”

“You drove here.” You shove at him and sit up. 

He shrugs and you take a moment to admire the tousled, floppy state of his hair. “I like driving.” 

“I won’t argue with that.” 

You sigh, stretch, stand and start rolling. You brush your teeth (twice) and put your clothes back into your suitcase, zipping it up without much trouble. He, of course, takes it off your hands right away and brings the bags to the car while you take care of checkout. 

He meets you outside, sunglasses on, and the sun hits his hair. You can see all the nuances in the black - the touch of silver, the dark browns and reds. They all seem to make a halo around him in the sunshine. “Ready?”

You snap back to attention and give him a wide smile. “Yes, sir!” 

Breakfast is an eventful affair. As soon as you sit down, you get a call from Penelope. 

“Hey, Pen, what’s up?” You look across the table at Hotch with amusement in your eyes, and he smiles, still digging into his eggs benedict like a starving man. 

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh, well we’re just at breakfast, almost on our way back. My laptop is in the car, can I take a look at that for you when I get home?” 

Not now, Penelope, I’ll call you when I’m home. 

She hums, following right away. “You better give me every single detail as soon as you step through the door or I swear I’ll riot.”

With a laugh, you reply, “Of course. You know, it might be easier if you just stop by - I’ll text you when I get home and we can do dinner or something.” You push your food around your plate, trying to ignore the fact that the only person you actually want to have dinner with is right across from you.

“Perfect. Yeah, just text me when you get home babycakes. Can’t wait!” She hangs up promptly, and your eyebrows raise for a half second. 

You put your phone away and shake your head. “She’s very predictable.” 

He nods, looking at you from under his brows. “Indeed.” 

You both continue to dig into your food, not realizing how hungry you are from all your antics the night before. His phone rings next, and it’s Jack. 

“Hey bud!” 

There’s nothing better than the way his voice transforms when he speaks to his son. You hear your name and return your attention to his conversation. 

“...we’re at a wedding this weekend, remember? We got to go to a big party last night, and we’re driving home today… Yeah,” he looks at you, “we did have a lot of fun… I’m so glad you had a good time with Aunt Jess and the Brooks cousins this weekend… You got to go ice fishing? That’s so exciting! Did Grandpa take you?... Awesome, bud… Sounds good, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?... I love you too.”

When he puts his phone away, you ask, “How’s he doing?”

“It’ll be a fight to get him home, that’s for sure.” 

You take another bite of your food. “How are things with Haley’s family? Any better?”

“Not at all. I’m not sure there’s much I can do, at this point. Jess does what she can, but her dad is… not a fan of mine.” There’s a kind of sadness in his eyes, and you almost regret asking.

“I know you know this, but none of this is your fault.” You look into him and hope he can see the sincerity in your eyes, hear it in your voice. 

He thinks for a moment, and you’re almost nervous he’s going to disagree (it’s happened before), but he just meets your eyes and says, “Thank you.”

+++

Hotch lets you pick the music on the way home, and doesn’t say a word when you sing along (sometimes good, sometimes bad). He does occasionally smile a little secret smile to himself, which makes your heart skip around in your chest. 

At a certain point, you turn the music off and sit back in your seat. 

As usual, Aaron knows you’re going to say something long before you say it. “Yes?” 

“I know I keep saying this, but thank you for coming with me this weekend.” Your body shifts toward him, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his profile. 

“You’re welcome.” He glances at you before looking back at the road. “Thank you for trusting me not to embarrass you in front of people you haven’t seen in almost ten years.” 

You smile a kind of lopsided sort of smile. “You could never embarrass me.”

He frowns playfully. “That’s not true.” 

“You are exceedingly upstanding, and you just got your hair cut, so the odds are in my favor.” 

“Hey!” He self-consciously runs a hand over the back of his hair. You reach over to shove at his shoulder and you’re rewarded with a laugh. 

“I’m kidding! I like it long.” You look over fondly at him. “It was longer when I first met you, remember?” You’re not sure why you continue, but you do nevertheless. “You started keeping it shorter after the div - well, after.” 

He quirks his brow, the corners of his lips upturned just the smallest amount. “Nobody ever accused you of being unobservant.” 

You grin widely at him and turn the radio back on. 

+++

You’ve never been more disappointed to see your own driveway in your whole life. Hotch pulls in and turns the ignition off, and you sit in silence for a minute. 

There’s so much to think about, and most of it is at least a little uncomfortable. Of course you’re in love with him and he’s your favorite person (and that’s bad enough), but that is even harder to stomach now that you have to go back into the real world. 

It’s easy to pretend that it was real, that it wasn’t just for show to make you feel less awful about the direction of your love life. If anything, now that you’re home, you feel even worse. 

The only person you want is seemingly the only person you can’t have. There’s something so unattainable about Hotch. You’re not sure if it’s his stern exterior or his age or his role, or if it has more to do with how devastatingly handsome he is, but it’s something. 

Aaron wishes he could do anything else, than leave you here at home. Nevertheless, he sighs and gets out of the car. You follow him around back, though you’re not really sure why - he takes your suitcase and insists on carrying it all the way to the door. 

You stand there, fumbling with your keys, feeling more and more like a character in a romantic comedy with every passing second. Aaron sets your suitcase on the ground and covers your hands with his. You look up at him, and he leans toward you, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” 

All you can do is nod, with a tight, closed-mouth smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says

“Bye, Hotch,” you call to him as he trots back to the car. “Thanks again.” 

He turns toward you, puts his sunglasses on, opens the door, and says, “Anytime.” 

You wave with the tips of your fingers and slide into your house. Your back to do the door, you slide down to the floor and cover your face with your hands. 

Fuck. 

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