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#I'm coming back into this rewatch just in time for the best season of the show
guardian-angle22 · 1 month
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in today's episode of 'small details that are destroying me' I present to you: Carlos biting his lip in anticipation of showing TK their home...
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and TK & Carlos licking their lips practically in sync..
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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More Than Words
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader
Requested: yes
Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.
Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.
A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!
Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”
It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.
“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.
“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.
“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.
“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”
“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”
You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.
“Promise you won’t tell?”
“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.
“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.
“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”
“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.
“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”
“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.
“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.
“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.
–X–
Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.
At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.
“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.
“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.
“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.
“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”
“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.
“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.
“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”
“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”
“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.
“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.
“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.
“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”
“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.
“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.
“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”
With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.
“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”
–X–
The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.
“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.
“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.
“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”
“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.
“What was our first date?” He asked.
“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”
“What else have we done together?”
“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”
“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.
You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.
“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”
He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.
“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.
“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.
“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”
“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.
You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.
But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.
“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.
The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.
“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”
“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.
“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”
“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”
“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.
“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”
“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.
“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.
“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.
“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.
“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”
Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.
“Mom, how did you know…”
“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,
“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.
–X–
The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.
Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.
What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?
So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.
“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.
You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.
“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.
“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.
You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.
“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.
“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.
He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”
“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.
An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.
“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.
“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.
“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.
“I don’t pick my nails!”
“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.
“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”
“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”
“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.
“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.
“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.
“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”
“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”
“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.
“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”
“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”
“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.
“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”
“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”
“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.
“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”
“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.
“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.
“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.
“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.
“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”
“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”
“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.
–X–
“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.
“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.
“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.
“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.
You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.
“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.
“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”
You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.
“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.
“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.
“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.
“Spence, what’s wrong?”
“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”
“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.
“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.
“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.
“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.
“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.
“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.
“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.
“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.
“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.
–X–
You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.
To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.
“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.
“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.
“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.
“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.
“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.
“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.
“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.
His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.
“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”
“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.
–X–
The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.
You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.
So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.
You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.
You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.
You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.
“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.
“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.
“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.
“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.
“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.
“How’d you figure it out?”
“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”
“Three.”
“Three what?”
“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.
“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.
“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”
“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”
“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”
You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.
“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.
You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.
“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.
“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.
“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.
You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.
“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”
Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.
“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.
“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.
“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.
“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.
“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.
“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”
“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.
“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.
“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.
“Yes?”
“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.
But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.
“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.
He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.
“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.
“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.
He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.
“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.
“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.
It never did.
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confused-pyramid · 3 months
Text
Coming Up For Air | s1
pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader
summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.
word count: 10.4k
warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22
a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke
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You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.
After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -
You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.
Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.
So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.
A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.
When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.
Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.
"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.
Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.
What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.
It was a no-brainer.
You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"
"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.
"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."
Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.
***
Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.
"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."
"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"
Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."
It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.
"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."
You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."
He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.
But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.
You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.
Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.
***
The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.
When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.
"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."
You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.
It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.
The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.
You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.
He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.
You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.
As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.
***
Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.
"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.
He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.
Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."
Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.
"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.
"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."
Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"
"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.
You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."
Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.
He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.
It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.
While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.
Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.
But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.
***
Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.
That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.
"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.
"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."
You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."
When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.
"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."
She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."
Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."
You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.
"Wheels up in 30."
The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.
"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.
Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."
Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"
"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."
"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"
"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."
Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."
"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"
The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"
When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.
That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.
You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.
As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.
Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.
"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"
He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."
The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.
"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.
You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."
"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."
"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."
"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"
You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.
"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."
"Then we're back to law enforcement."
You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.
"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.
He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."
One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."
"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."
His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."
"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."
He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."
***
You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.
"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.
After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.
"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."
"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."
His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.
After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.
"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."
You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.
"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."
Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."
His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."
Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.
You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.
"Hold your fire!"
Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.
"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"
"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."
You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.
***
You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.
"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"
He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."
"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."
He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."
He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"
You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"
He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."
"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."
He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.
Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.
There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.
When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.
But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.
***
"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.
She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."
"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."
"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.
"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"
He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."
"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.
"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."
"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"
"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."
You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."
Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.
When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.
"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.
"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."
You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."
She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."
"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."
You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."
When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.
You want kids, don't you?
Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.
"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.
Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"
You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.
***
"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.
"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."
"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."
"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.
Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.
You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.
When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.
"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."
"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"
"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."
Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."
You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.
Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.
"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.
Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."
"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."
Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."
You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."
Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.
"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."
Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.
After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."
You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.
"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.
"Most of them have criminal records."
Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."
Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.
"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.
You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."
"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."
Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."
"What's so interesting about that?"
"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."
Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"
"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."
***
Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.
"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"
He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."
It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"
"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."
You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.
He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.
We'll call you as soon as we know more.
The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.
"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.
He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."
"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.
There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."
Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.
"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."
Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.
"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."
He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.
"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."
Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."
His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."
Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.
For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.
You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"
He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-
"What the hell is wrong with you people?"
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.
Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"
"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."
"You don't have him?"
You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.
Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."
Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"
"About 12 hours."
"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.
"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."
He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."
You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."
You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"
Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.
"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."
Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.
"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."
Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."
Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."
***
James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.
"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.
When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.
And some people grow up to catch them."
You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.
Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.
Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.
"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.
You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.
Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.
"You're a great father, Aaron."
His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."
He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.
You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."
That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."
You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."
That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.
This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."
"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."
He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.
***
When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.
He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.
Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.
He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.
"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.
You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"
His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."
"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"
"Burnt."
You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.
"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.
He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."
"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.
He huffs. "I was...looking at that."
"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."
"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."
You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."
You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.
"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.
You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."
Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"
"I told her the truth."
You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"
He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."
"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."
He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."
That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."
"Do what?"
"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."
You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.
"We were gonna start trying for a baby."
That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.
You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"
He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.
"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."
"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."
"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."
"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."
Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"
"I just know."
***
When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.
"Sean?"
He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"
You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.
"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."
He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"
"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."
Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."
You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.
"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.
"Maybe Hotch is adopted."
"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.
JJ frowns. "I don't see it."
"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"
You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."
Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.
"Ooh, here he comes."
You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.
"Sean, listen to me."
He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."
Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.
You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.
The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.
You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"
He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"
You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."
"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"
He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"
"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."
He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."
You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.
"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.
He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."
"Maybe I'll see you around."
The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.
Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.
***
"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."
"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."
"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.
"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."
"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."
He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"
"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."
You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."
"Yeah," he nods. "I know."
You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.
The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.
Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.
After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.
That's when the phone rings.
***
"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.
As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."
"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."
"Yet."
You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"
"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.
At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."
"No-"
"We won't do anything without you, I promise."
"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."
She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.
"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"
"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."
"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."
You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."
He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."
You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.
"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"
You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."
"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."
"Prettier, too."
The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"
She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."
"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."
"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."
You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.
"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."
You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."
When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.
"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.
"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."
You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."
If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.
You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.
You start running.
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sigmalaussene · 2 months
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Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham
As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy
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10. "Funny looking fellow"
(season one)
We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.
9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"
(season two)
This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle
8. "Yellow rat snitch"
(season one)
We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???
7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"
(season four)
Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it
6. "Golden goose"
(season one)
Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.
5. "Beaky nosed freak"
(season five)
Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.
4. "Scaley faced bitch"
(season one)
This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.
3. "Sad little breadhead"
(season two)
This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.
2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"
(season two)
This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.
1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"
(season one)
This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.
Bonus:
(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)
Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)
Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys
His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)
He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao
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blackbleedingrose · 2 months
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Long Lost Morningstar - Part Three
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Emily x reader (platonic), Sera x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Betrayal
Warning(s): Cursing, lies, betrayal
Notes: This is the third installment of LLM. This part will be shorter than part 2 and will finally go over the trial and (Y/N)'s reaction the extermination. I'm going to be honest, I'm dropping my other hazbin mini series. This is only until I can find the time and motivation to write it. I'm really busy with school and work, and lately my obsession with Hazbin has started to die down. I still love the series and fandom, but that's just something that happens to me from time to time when I watch a new series or get into a fandom. It comes and it goes, and I've been reading a lot of hazbin stuff but now it's starting to feel like an obligation I've set for myself and it makes reading less fun and more like a chore. I have no doubt my obsession will come back when the 2nd season comes out. This happens will all the fandoms I am apart of - like right now, I'm obsessing over Avatar the last airbender again after rewatching the series (not the live action). Don't worry, I'll continue this series as I don't want this to end up unfinished. I have the outline pretty much written, but it will take time to finish - so, please, bare with me.
Singing Colors: Adam, Lute, Charlie, Emily, Sera, (Y/N).
Words: 1631
"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".
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As the time of the trial drew closer, there seemed to be a few hiccups on Heaven's side of things.
The angel who was supposed to be the trial's stenographer got a nasty cold and all the replacements had their own responsibilities to attend to. The only angel available just so happened to be (Y/N) herself.
When one of the court angels asked (Y/N) if she could do it, she didn't hesitate to accept.
Now she had the perfect excuse to watch Charlie's trial without having to sneak in!
Imagine Sera's surprise and horror when she saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk.
"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Where's Angela?" Sera asked. She was a bit panicked, but did her best to hide it. (Y/N) smiled politely at the higher seraphim, clearly oblivious to Sera's rigid demeanor. "She got a pretty bad cold last minute and all of the other replacements were busy today; and since I was the only one who was available - here I am!".
Sera gave her an uneasy smile, "I see. Thank you for your help today, it's much appreciated". This was the last thing she wanted. The resemblance between (Y/N) and the Princess of Hell was very difficult to ignore and could raise questions if it wasn't for the stardust story Heaven fed everyone.
Sera had wanted to keep (Y/N) away from the trial in hopes of avoiding any contact between her and Charlie. She didn't want (Y/N) to accidently discover the truth about her lineage.
Sera loved (Y/N) like a daughter.
When (Y/N) was younger Michael would sometimes have Sera babysit while he attended to his more serious duties.
She practically helped raise her and she refused to let some misguided demon princess and her partner ruin that.
Unfortunately, the court needed a stenographer.
With no one else available, she was left with no other option.
Sera thanked (Y/N) for her hard work and for stepping in.
She gave the girl a gentle forehead kiss before leaving her to prepare for the trial.
It was only for today and once this pointless trial was over everything would go back to the way it was.
And (Y/N) would be none the wiser and away from that misguided influence.
However, things weren't as perfect as Sera had hoped for.
The moment Charlie and Vaggie entered the courtroom and saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk, the two cousins eagerly waved at each other.
Sera's eyes widened in horror. No. This wasn't supposed to happen - it was the worse case scenario.
When did those two meet?!
She sighed in frustration already knowing that (Y/N) must have sought the girl out herself.
Dammit Emily.
(Y/N)'s curiosity was her biggest flaw and was going to end up getting her into serious trouble if not handled properly.
Sera quickly composed herself. No point in losing herself and catching any unnecessary attention.
She still had a trial to run and then she'll have a talk with (Y/N) later.
Now, (Y/N) was nice to just about everyone. She could get along with just about anyone she's ever met. But there was one person, or rather two, she just couldn't stand.
Adam and his little crony Lute.
These two irritated her to no ends with how high and mighty they acted. How either of them managed to stay in Heaven was beyond her.
Her father just told her to bare it, despite him also disliking the two of them - especially that narcissistic douchebag Adam.
(Y/N) did her best to hide her grimace whenever Adam spoke during the trial.
As the trial went on (Y/N) felt a little nervous when Charlie was shut down from making anymore definition references. She could see how nervous her poor cousin was getting.
When Charlie looked over at her, (Y/N) made sure to give her a small smile and mouthed, "You've got this".
This managed to help calm Charlie's nerves enough for her to regain her composure. Charlie got a little more confident when presenting Angel Dust, the hotel's first patron.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes when Adam spoke up again trying to discredit her cousin.
"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?".
Charlie's question stumped more than just Adam. (Y/N) had to take a moment to think - how does someone get into Heaven?
Being Heaven-born (Y/N)'s never had to be on the other end with humans who had to earn their place in paradise. And if someone as crude and vile as Adam can get into Heaven then what did it take for others, especially the damned who didn't deserve Hell - like children, for example.
Adam quickly wrote on a piece of paper before giving it to Vaggie to read aloud.
"'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?' - are you fucking serious?".
"Uh, yeah. Sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?".
(Y/N) raised a brow. That's all it took to get someone into Heaven?
Charlie tried to argue Angel was doing all of those things, to which the court decided to observe Angel through the courtroom's orb. At first, things weren't looking good for Charlie when Angel gave into peer pressure.
(Y/N) bit her lip, silently hoping this would somehow take a turn for the better. She really wanted Charlie to show her hotel worked and for Adam to eat his words.
Luckily, things did start looking up when Angel took care of his friend, Nifty, and defended her from that awful moth demon.
"Then why isn't he here, huh?".
(Y/N) paused her typing - why isn't he here?
This started a whole argument at the unfairness of it all. How even those in Hell could be redeemed if only given the chance. (Y/N) and Emily saw the change in Angel and how he did everything on Adam's list.
"A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month".
. . . Wait what?
(Y/N) furrowed her brows in confusion. One month? What was he talking about?
"Gotta say I can't wait to-"
"Adam".
(Y/N) looked up at Sera, did she know what he was talking about? What the hell was going on?!
"Come down and exterminate you".
. . . WHAT?!
(Y/N) and Emily looked horrified at the shocking news.
"Wait!".
"Shit!".
(Y/N) and Emily fly over to Charlie, Vaggie, Adam, and Lute looking sadly at the orb showing the residents in Hell being mercilessly killed by the exorcists.
"What are you saying?"
"Let me get this straight".
"You go down there and kill those poor souls?".
"You didn't know?".
Charlie was shocked to hear that not all of Heaven knew about the exterminations. She was relieved to hear that her cousin didn't know and that she seemed to be against it.
"Whoops!".
"Guess the cat's outta the bag!".
"What's the big deal?".
(Y/N) and Emily turned and looked up at Sera.
"Sera tell us that you didn't know".
"I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder".
"No".
"You have to listen, it was such a hard decision".
Sera flew down from her seat.
"I wanted to save you".
She took (Y/N) and Emily's hand in her own.
"The anguish it takes to, do what was required".
The hellfire reflecting in Sera's eyes unnerved (Y/N) and Emily - almost like she enjoyed the suffering and senseless murder of the sinners in Hell.
The two glared at Sera.
"To think that we admired you".
They tore their hands from hers and flew back away from her.
"Well, we don't need your condescension! We're not children to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretention? Were we too naive to expect you, to head the morals you're purveying?".
The two flew back down in front of the orb.
"That's what the fuck I've been saying!".
Charlie walked over to the two angel's grabbing their hands.
(Y/N), Charlie, and Emily moved up and stood on top of the orb showing the exorcists killing sinners.
"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".
"Emily! (Y/N)!".
"If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky!".
The three jumped down and stood before Sera.
"The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say! When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!".
Things only continued getting worse with Charlie finding out Vaggie was an angel and an ex-exorcist, Sera's final ruling of no evidence of sinners being able to be redeemed, and Adam's threat of coming to their hotel first.
"Charlie, it will be okay! I'll find a way to help you - I promise!" (Y/N) called out before Charlie and Vaggie were forced to back to Hell.
After Sera had finished talking to Emily, she went after (Y/N) who had already left the courtroom.
"(Y/N)! Wait, please!" Sera begged grabbing (Y/N) by her wrist. "Please, let me explain!".
(Y/N) turned her head and glared at Sera with such intensity it sent shivers down the High Seraphim's spine. She's never seen (Y/N) look at her like that before.
It broke her heart to see the girl she's helped raise and thought of as a surrogate daughter look at her with such anger and disgust.
"Explain what, Sera?! That you've been here playing God and allowing the murder of sinners! They're already in Hell, what more could you possibly want?! They don't deserve this!" (Y/N) yanked her wrist from Sera's hold and flew away.
She couldn't believe this had been going on and she never even knew! Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her poor cousin. She knew needed to do something to help Charlie.
But first, she needed to see whether or not her father and the other archangels knew about this all along.
Taglist:
@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18 @sirenetheblogger @jagharamira @el-hajj @azharyy @glowymxxn @itsmonicabc
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i don't think people appreciate how good the mice & murder "oops all college humor goofballs" season was. i rewatched it right at the beginning of burrow's end (for adorable woodland creature reasons) and it's just so underrated.
first of all, every member of the cast is KILLING IT. grant is genuinely witty as a sherlock holmes-style dandy and is solving the case in real time. rekha's southern drawl gives me life. katie goes full peaky blinders. raph is a master of rolling badly and then roleplaying exactly how his character fucked it up. and sam's portrayal of buckster $ boyd is so charismatic it makes me want him back in the dome for a side quest ASAP
ally's portrayal of lars gets its own bullet point because i genuinely believe it's some of their best work. often ally's characters are the lynchpin of season lore, but lars proves how much ally shines when their talents for comedy are harnessed toward nothing but inhabiting an impossibly loyal silly little thembo who knows a lot about astrology
*hits the trunk of my car* this baby can hold so many nat 20s in it
specifically the nat 20 that rekha hit which made brennan speed rewrite the entire season??? and it works so well i can't imagine any solution to this mystery other than the one he came up with???
lucretia brockhollow's voice
honestly i thought i would dislike the covid-season-ness of it all but i actually loved that you could see everyone's facial expressions at the same time. it's a lot more smoothly executed in a technical sense than unsleeping city: chapter 2 or even fantasy high: sophomore year
the gags carlos luna did with the figures in roll20??? come on
sometimes a family CAN be a mother who's an epileptic mole, a father that's a capitalistic javelina pig, and a grave-robber weasel son who's probably older than the dad
it's just so cozy and fun and laugh-out-loud funny it makes me feel like i'm wrapped up in a blanket sipping hot chocolate from a warm mug
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aida-sparks · 4 months
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Eddie liked Buck from the start, but where are we now?
I've convinced myself that Eddie liked Buck from the very beginning - but only subconsciously. I mean, look at how he's watching Buck in 2x01, even as Buck is being bratty as they work out.
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Even though Buck has been anything but kind to him up to this point, Eddie's more miffed than angered by it. Maybe a little disappointed too.
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We all know by the end of 2x01, Eddie wins Buck over, and they both quasi promise to have each other's back. And then the rest of their story so far has many important and telling moments, but what if we fast forward to season 6 episode 15 and that loaded graveyard scene? Is this scene the moment where Eddie Diaz finally *consciously* realizes that his feelings for Buck are not only platonic? It was such a layered scene. Of course, there is Eddie's shellshocked reaction to Buck's proclamation that Natalia, the death doula who he just met, really sees him (bites lip in agitation), but beyond that...
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It's clear that Eddie goes on to have a profound revelation after Buck says that. But what does it mean?!
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He tells Buck, "You haven't been the same since it happened. But how could you be?" as he turns away and processes something internally. Perhaps something about himself as well. Eddie actually looks a little startled. A few seconds later, he reassures Buck that he doesn't have to be anyone for anybody and that experiences like this change them. He goes on to ask Buck what changed in him. I think the moment Eddie admits Buck hasn't been the same, he realizes that he has changed too. Exactly how is not made clear. Even Buck's own response to Eddie's question is vague (he says he feels like he cheated death). How did Eddie change? How did Buck change? The writers don't commit Buck and Eddie's feelings clearly in dialogue, so fans are forced to speculate, and it's why the general audience members, who don't rewatch scenes and lean in hard to the characters, think us buddie shippers are clowning half the time. *deep sigh*
But being left to my own speculation, I do think Eddie's revelation here is at least partly related to Buck. He looked disappointed when he learned Buck was starting something with Natalia. He looked hurt when Buck said she "sees him" -- and maybe those reactions surprised something in Eddie. I don't think the man he was raised to be would have recognized those feelings; he wouldn't have admitted to feeling them on a conscious level. But of course, that's why "change" is a theme in this scene and Eddie has looks like he's putting 2 and 2 together. Part of me feels Eddie was in touch with his feelings for Buck well before this episode, but then I don't know how else to interpret what the graveyard scene was meant to be if not Eddie coming to terms with the fact that he may be in love with his best friend, even as said best friend proclaims he has a new love interest in the picture. This take could set up Eddie secretly pining over Buck in season 7 quite well, though. Oh, my angst-ridden heart. I'd love to read others' thoughts on this! I'm glad I joined tumblr to read all the buddie and 9-1-1 meta out there. Forgive me if it looks like I don't know what I'm doing. I don't. I'm still new around here.
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boltupbitches · 5 months
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Biggest Fan - Joe Burrow One Shot
Sequel to #1 Fan
A little one-shot for Joe Burrow. I feel bad about how his season ended and, although I'm glad my Steelers won tonight, I wish it was the Bengals contesting for the playoffs - not the Browns.
Anyways, this a continuation of #1 Fan with Dad!Joe and little Jordan Burrow. I do not write in the second POV, so no reader insert, Y/N stuff over here.
---
Jordan was down for a nap as he lay against his father’s chest, snuggled tight in his favorite blanket.
Joe pressed a kiss to the crown of golden blonde hair on his son’s head. He held Jordan with one arm, his other supported in a brace he was forced to wear until his wrist surgery.
Joe was tired and frustrated from the events of the last few weeks. This season alone had been one big mess and it was one of the hardest feelings being in injury reserve and watching his team do their hardest to win without him there to lead. 
He felt guilty. He felt like he let them down. He rewatched the film of that game about a dozen times since the injury. He should have been more careful. More aware of his movements and surroundings.
He stared off into space, not noticing his wife come in with two cups of hot cocoa. He was shaken from his daze as soon as he saw her bend to place the mugs on the coffee table before she gently took a seat next to him.
She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes shining in the dimmed lights above them. Joe smiled back, his eyes trained on his lover’s face, taking in the light freckles that danced across her cheeks and the roundness of her cheeks. She was remarkably beautiful to him. 
He felt so lucky to have her there. To know that even when things weren’t great outside their family, he could come home to her and be loved as just her husband Joey, not Joe Burrow the quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals.
She gave him the greatest gift he ever received - the sleeping toddler against his chest. She moved across the country to be with him when he was drafted. She loved him through each injury and did her best to support him. She was his biggest fan outside of his parents and siblings. Only rivaling baby Jordy.
“I love you.” He murmured, his eyes never leaving hers.
She blushed and looked down for a moment, looking back at him with a twinkle in her eye. “I love you too.”
Joe shifted Jordan carefully to rest into the crevice of his shoulder so he could shift his hand and place it gently against his wife’s stomach. His heart skipped a beat as he came in contact with the small bump where Baby Burrow #2 was growing.
He blinked tears back, trying to not cry as he was overcome with feelings of love and gratitude. While the season ended for him in ways that were soul-crushing, he knew that he would be back and better than ever next season. This time with another Baby Burrow to cheer him on alongside Jordy and his wife.
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littlespoonevan · 8 days
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I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah
hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)
but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️
The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure
Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.
Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania
“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.
To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.
standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum
In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.
across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 
“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.
darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.
i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys
“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking
Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.
no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades
Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.
when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 
Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)
i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove
She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.
everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys
LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.
said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove
“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).
cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)
Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other
so far from being free by allisonRW96
"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."
don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife
Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)
dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 
The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)
I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.
never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger
It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.
Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen
“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.
Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania
“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.
keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas
Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light
Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston
The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)
as lucky as us by hammersmiths
One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.
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starsainzjr · 6 months
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Watermelon Moonshine
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Pairing: Logan Sargeant x country singer!reader Faceclaim: Lainey Wilson Title from Lainey Wilson's Watermelon Moonshine
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logansargeant
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Liked by f1, liamlawson, oscarpiastri and 239,062 others
logansargeant P3! Such a special weekend, thank you COTA!
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alex_albon Congrats mate! Let's finish the ride 👊
f1 We're seeing history!
logiebear2 I've been crying for 4 straight hours
liamlawson Red, white, and blue podium was a little too poetic
logiebear2 I'M CRYING AGAIN
charles_leclerc Mighty job done!
yourusername
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Liked by williamsracing, marenmorris, kelseaballerini and 38,915 others
yourusername COTA! Thank you @/williamsracing for an incredible weekend!
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williamsracing Thank YOU for serenading us!
ynbug51 Not fair 😭 They got a preview of the album 😭
ynbug51 The content we have been blessed with this weekend
marenmorris Look at our girl, off making international friends
sargen2 My worlds have collided I'm hyperventilating
yourusername
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Liked by marenmorris, kanebrown, kelseaballerini, and 40,846 others
yourusername São Paulo crowd you were fantastic! So much fun getting back on the stage!
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marenmorris Is this what a proud mother feels like
kanebrown I think so. I'm smiling and my cheeks hurts it's weird
sargen2 Interesting timing considering what you were doing two weeks ago 🧐
ynbug51 What was two weeks ago?
sargen2 Williams hosted her at the US Grand Prix in Austin and there's another one in São Paulo. I wonder if she was at the race again
ynbug51 She was performing Sunday night and isn't that race day
sargen2 It was a day race so it's possible she did both
logansargeant
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Liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 300,646 others
logansargeant We'll be back on the podium in Vegas 💪 Let's finish out the season strong
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logiebear2 I feel like I'm dreaming he's been doing so well in the last half
alex_albon Vegas here we come
sargen2 The last picture was taken awfully close to the place Yn performed at...
logiebear2 The country star that was at Austin?
sargen2 Yeah! Her performance in São Paulo was impromptu so I wonder...
ynbug51 So this is the source of the suspicion
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yourusername
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Liked by marenmorris, kanebrown, logansargeant and 72,651 others
yourusername All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy
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marenmorris I'm starting to think this isn't a hyper fixation
kanebrown Please don't make me rewatch The Shining again
williamsracing Garage concerts are always welcome!
ynbug51 I watched motorsport for her. And I liked it. I liked motorsport for her.
logiebear2 Welcome to the cult! We have cookies
sargen2 I swear to God if Logan posts from a concert tomorrow I will actually lose my mind
logiebear2 Do you know how many celebrities were at the race?
sargen2 I'm just saying it probably won't be a coincidence
logansargeant
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Liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, liamlawson and 199,725 others
logansargeant Thank you @/yourusername for the gracious invite! P2 and VIP tickets, what a way to end the weekend
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yourusername Only returning the favor! See you in Miami!
oscarpiastri So this is the unreleased album you've been listening to nonstop
sargen2 tHE WHAT
sargen2 CALLED IT. I CALLED IT.
logiebear2 They're allowed to be friends you know
ynbug51 No wait this is actually adorable
sargen2 THAT'S WHAT IM SAYING
ynbug51 I love it when famous friends support each other
sargen2 😐
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yourusername
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Liked by logansargeant, marenmorris, kanebrown, and 94,946 others
yourusername Easily the best weekend in a long time. Thank you Miami and @/f1!
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marenmorris Is there something you forgot to tell us????
sargen2 THE WILLIAMS BLUE OUTFIT ARE YOU KIDDING ME
ynbug51 SO THAT'S WHY SHE WAS LITERALLY GLOWING IN HER INTERVIEW
sargen2 I was right along. That is 100% Logan in the picture
logiebear2 I hate to admit you may have been right
sargen2 I rest my case
ynbug51 No bc I'm actually about to start crying she's looked so happy recently
logansargeant
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Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, williamsracing and 581,826 others
logansargeant P3 in Barcelona! Final push before summer break let's get this done
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yourusername Bring it home!
logansargeant One more garage concert for good luck?
oscarpiastri You don't tell me anything anymore
logiebear2 Our boy went on a date 🥹
sargen2 For the record, I've had this one called since the end of last season
ynbug51 I was at the concert last night and Yn was glowing again
sargen2 She kept looking up at the balcony. He was probably sitting up there
ynbug51 The second they confirm this I'm going to lose my mind
yourusername
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Liked by logansargeant, marenmorris, oscarpiastri and 84,925 others
yourusername Back home and ready to write
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marenmorris Congrats on your first world tour! You crushed it!
yourusername 😘
logansargeant Thanks for the guitar lessons
yourusername You're a natural
sargen2 SHE GAVE HIM GUITAR LESSONS????
sargen2 I'M GOING FERAL
ynbug51 Oh this album is going to be so damn good
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yourusername
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Liked by logansargeant, marenmorris, capitolrecords and 100,236 others
yourusername Happy to announce my seconds album, Hijacked My Heart, will be out on August 31st! Thank you all for the support, and for @/logansargeant for the inspiration ❤️
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logansargeant I am so so proud of you my love ❤️
yourusername I told you all the time we spent in the hayloft wasn't for nothing 😉
marenmorris Don't make me compete for who's more proud of you
logansargeant I win
yourusername Behave you two
sargen2 I now be dishing out my I told you so's
ynbug51 SHAKING I'M SO EXCITED I CANNOT BELIEVE IT
sargen2 My life if complete, I can die happy
logansargeant
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Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 201,003 others
logansargeant Can't begin to describe how excited I am for @/yourusername. Hijacked my Heart out now!
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yourusername I love you darlin 😘 Couldn't have done it without you
logansargeant It was all those garage concerts
logiebear2 He looks so in love 😭
ynbug51 You can tell how much of an influence he had on the last half of the album. The last 5 songs are 100% about him
sargen2 THE LAST SONG OF THE ALBUM
sargen2 IS CALLED COTA
sargen2 SHE WROTE A SONG ABOUT THEIR FIRST MEETING
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All photos from Pinterest, Instagram, or Google Images
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waitmyturtles · 4 months
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SOME GOOD SHOWS THAT I LIKED IN 2023! (AND SOME THAT I DIDN'T)
I watched A LOT of stuff that did not originally air in 2023 by dint of my Old GMMTV Challenge. This list is inclusive of this recognition!
THE BEST SHOW I WATCHED THIS YEAR: HE'S COMING TO ME
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I have no other words: this is my favorite Thai BL of all time. Perfect length, perfect plot, perfect celebration of Thai culture, perfect acting, the greatest coming out scene of all time, the BEST of the best BL moms. Perfection.
THE OTHER BEST SHOW I WATCHED THIS YEAR: BAD BUDDY
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I don't even want to think about how many words I've written on Bad Buddy this year, but they're well deserved for this REMARKABLE show. I've got a thing for shows by Aof Noppharnach that feature Ohm Pawat, what can I say!
THE MOST INFLUENTIAL SHOW(S) I WATCHED THIS YEAR: LOVE SICK AND SOTUS
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The influence of Love Sick and SOTUS can be seen in SO MANY Thai BLs, even through today. Without having watched these two shows to start my OGMMTVC project, I wouldn't have the context for what later shows like Bad Buddy and Theory of Love were commenting on by way of their content and structures. Love Sick in particular was a HELL of a lift -- but I am damn glad I watched it, and I certainly feel nostalgia for it today.
Honorable mentions of influential pieces that had impacts on Thai BLs: Love of Siam and Dew the Movie
MY OTHER FAVORITE OLD SHOWS I WATCHED: UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN AND THEORY OF LOVE
BANGERS!!!
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If New Siwaj ever tops Until We Meet Again, I'll fly to Bangkok and give him a gold medal. That long-ass show, 17 EPISODES, I WANTED MORE! OhmFluke's chemistry was great, the story delved SO deeply into historical homophobia and how culture and acceptance changes over time -- scrumptious. Theory of Love, man, the way this show ate up implicit compassion bias and gave it right back to us. I loved it. KHAI FOREVER!
THE BEST SHOW I WATCHED THAT ACTUALLY AIRED IN 2023: MOONLIGHT CHICKEN
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Not only was Moonlight Chicken my first real live fandom experience on Tumblr, it was a hell of an amazing show, incorporating so much of what I love particularly about Thai BLs, and how many Thai BLs do not shy away from celebrating Asian cultural touchpoints. From exploring Jim's internalized homophobia by way of his rural upbringing, to juxtaposing Pattaya's spiritual symbols with growing development that upends older strains of local culture, Moonlight Chicken offered a lovely commentary on what it means to be queer in an ever-changing Thailand.
THE OTHER BEST SHOW I WATCHED THAT ACTUALLY AIRED IN 2023: WHAT DID YOU EAT YESTERDAY?/KINOU NANI TABETA? SEASON 2
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BRILLIANTLY ACTED by literally the best actors in the Asian BL game: we are blessed that Nishijima Hidetoshi and Uchino Seiyou have given so much to this franchise. It's hard to write about this show because it's so perfect -- it needs no extraneous words. Plot, pacing, acting, character development, gratuitous food shots. It has it all.
THE OTHER OTHER BEST SHOW I WATCHED THAT ACTUALLY AIRED IN 2023: I CANNOT REACH YOU
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Just like Bad Buddy looked at Thai BL tropes in the eye and said, "over my Nong Nao," I Cannot Reach You asked Japanese BLs about the efficacy of almost every trope we've gotten used to, and questioned them with efficiency. The biggest shocker for me? REAL COMMUNICATION, encouraged by the CIPHER, Hosaka, that allowed the two lead protagonists to confirm their love and understand each other. It was straightforward and FUCKING GOOD.
A SHOW THAT AIRED IN 2023 THAT I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ABOUT YET, THAT I NEED TO REWATCH IN CHRONOLOGY, THAT ALSO DID SOME TROPE/GENRE ASS-KICKING THAT I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT: LA PLUIE
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La Pluie was FEARLESS. The show had a LOT to say about romance and soulmates not being as much of a realistic thing as content-makers... and, frankly, majority society would like us to think. La Pluie made its characters WORK for love and understanding, and had us viewers face our implicit biases about how romantic content should and could work. I watched this show out of order of the OGMMTVC watchlist to see it it was one of the best of the year, and it certainly is. I'm planning a deep rewatch for early 2024 to pen my words on it.
A SHOW THAT ALMOST TOPPED MY 2023 LIST BUT GOT DOCKED BECAUSE I ENDED UP LIKING THE NOVEL A LOT BETTER: I FEEL YOU LINGER IN THE AIR
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@neuroticbookworm and @lurkingshan know that I flipped THA FUCK out over this show -- FABULOUSLY acted by Nonkul Chanon and Bright Rapheephong, FABULOUS cinematography, great story up until the end of the series. My fangirling led me to read the original novel by Violet Rain, and -- I found out that Jom was a lot more damn sassy than we got in the show! Tee Bundit's penchant for sadness won. This is not to dock the show, but the novel had more than enough material to carry the series through without repeating themes in the end. So it fell on my 2023 list, womp womp. BUT I STILL LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SHOW, DON'T GET ME WRONG.
TWO SHOWS THAT I'M SUPER GLAD I CAUGHT UP WITH WHILE THEY WERE AIRING: THE EIGHTH SENSE AND BE MY FAVORITE
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Be My Favorite looked at Krist Perawat's checkered past as a BL idol and said: we are going to examine this and make an honest BL out of inspiration from it. It wasn't a perfect show, the time travel shit didn't end up adding up in the end, BUT -- excellent acting from two GMMTV VETS made up for those tangles, and I loved the contextual philosophical references throughout the series. The Eighth Sense looked at the tug-of-war that Korean BLs have with K-dramas and their tropes and said, actually? We will have these dudes full-frontal kiss, and placed that energy against commentaries on mental health, both topics that Korea hasn't quite embraced as quickly as other countries.
HONORABLE MENTIONS OF OTHER AWESOME SHOWS THAT MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE AIRED IN 2023
Make It Right, Our Dating Sim, Dark Blue Kiss, Gay OK Bangkok, Dirty Laundry, 10 Years Ticket, I Told Sunset About You, I Promised You the Moon, 3 Will Be Free, Lovely Writer (underrated?!), Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars (UNDERRATED!), and Manner of Death.
And the shows that are airing that I know will stay with me well into 2024: Last Twilight and Cherry Magic Thailand.
I had fun!
WHAT ELSE, WHAT ELSE: THE "NO" SHOWS: THE PROMISE AND STEP BY STEP
I'm not even hyperlinking my thoughts on these shows, nor gifting them with gifs. Insert Bugs Bunny NOOOOOO gif here! We got Man Trisanu, though.
THE SHOW I WAS THE MOST OBVIOUSLY DISAPPOINTED BY: ONLY FRIENDS
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Despite my passionate disappointment for this show and how it ended: in the context of the OGMMTVC, Only Friends is still an incredibly important inclusion to the list. Some amazing Tumblr bloggers offered commentary that the bias against sex that OF contained within the show was actually importantly and culturally contextual to the still-conservative state of acceptance that Thailand is currently in (here and here for more reading).
Only Friends reminded us that despite any kind of marketing that we here on Tumblr, as a majority non-Thai audience, may receive about a Thai show -- that we are still not fully plugged into the non-verbal expectations of what a show like OF could promise to do, and to be okay when it doesn't reach those heights. In light of the seemingly pro-sex marketing blasts that previewed the series before its airing, OF ultimately seemed to want to take casual sex, chew it up, and spit it out. There might be reasons why that happened that we just don't know about as outsiders to Thailand. But as an Asian-American viewer that was hoping for neutral -- and maybe even supportive -- commentary on single folks having casual sex without judgement, OF did not deliver for me.
I'm ending the year reading Dr. Thomas Baudinette's book, Boys Love Media in Thailand, the first book-length ethnographic study on the impact of BL on queerness, media, and more in Thailand and across Asia. Baudinette comes from the world of Japanese queer media studies -- as someone who came to Thai BLs this year from Japanese BLs, I appreciate his trajectory. It's clearly a necessity for me to read this book in the context of the OGMMTVC, to understand how Thai BLs have changed over time, and to understand the incredibly larger impact of heterosexual/heteronormative media and themes on Thai media as a whole, as larger and larger swaths of Thai, Asian, and international societies welcome and watch BLs with open arms.
All of this feeds into my ever-growing body of knowledge about the impact of Thai BLs, both in Thailand and across Asia, as Baudinette writes about, and how these shows have and are developed/developing over time. It's been an AMAZING YEAR of watching old and new dramas for me, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the genre grows even more in 2024.
I also made AMAZING FRIENDS on Tumblr -- y'all know who you are! What a year of growth and discovery for me: this has been a fabulous experience, and I'm looking forward to even more growth in the new year!
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hashtagloveloses · 7 months
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any time i fall into a depressive episode i have the devastating urge to rewatch fullmetal alchemist, and the october 3rd memes also gave me the urge again. so instead of rewatching, i did something i've been wanting to do for a long time instead - looked up the sheet music for parts of the score to learn on the violin. i'm DECENT on the violin but not the best, so i thought resembool's lullaby would be relatively easy to learn with a bit of practice. i went to sight read it, and despite listening to it constantly, realized quite quickly how it was deceptively way more difficult than i thought. it has a lot of double stops, AKA when you have to play two notes on two different strings at the same time, and getting them to sound good requires a good amount of technique.
there's the basic melody that pretty much anybody could hum, but the texture between and on top of the main melody that makes it special is the hard part. after seeing 800 memes about october third "fail to resurrect your mom and burn your house" day, i realized that the song itself about the elric brothers' home represents the deceptive nature of the taboo they tried to enact. resembool's lullaby, the musical motif that runs through all their travels and follows them just like the horror they experienced after what they did as kids, consists of a few basic, easy to acquire melodic "ingredients", just like the material ingredients edward lists off that physically make up the human body. it is only when attempting to play the theme, just like the boys' attempt at human transmutation, that you realize the extra spark that makes the song come alive, just like a human being, can't be done without a cost. in the song, obviously it is technique and practice, and for human transmutation, it is a soul, which can only be gotten at a price.
this theme shows up a lot in fullmetal alchemist brotherhood - often with a choir, or an orchestral arrangement, but not always the solo violin. the solo violin, though, still has these incredibly difficult chords you have to play the whole time. the most BASIC form of this motif and this theme HAS to have two notes played at the same time through most of it, just like how the elric brothers cannot be apart from each other. the story, the lullaby, their fates, it's always about the two of them, no matter the cost, even in how the music is played.
EDIT: also, the FIRST version on the OST is Lullaby of Resembool, which is played by solo cello, I believe. While the LAST version on the THIRD VOLUME OST is Resembool's Lullaby, which is the solo violin version with the double stops. The themes show up everywhere, but if the solo cello version shows up in the first season and the solo violin version shows up in the last, it resembles how Edward felt alone in trying to get his brother's body back at the beginning, and how at the end they are completely reunited again, even though they shared the same melody, the same story and struggle, the whole time.
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the-words-we-sung · 1 month
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Thoughts and pictures - S3E1
So after digesting my first watch a little bit, I'm starting my rewatch of this season and I'll share a few thoughts and reactions (and screenshots) because I can't keep it all to myself 😱
I was happy that we dived directly into the (sort of) trial and confrontation between Wilhelm, Simon and August. I do wonder how much time passed between the speech and this scene though. It sets the tone for the entire season for Wilhelm: he's gonna be alone, with no support whatsoever from his parents. He enters the room alone, his parents arrive after him and his mother doesn't even look at him... Simon arrives with his mother and August with his stepdad. But Wilhelm has to deal with the situation alone (aka how to get incredibly mad at Kristina barely 5min into the season 😤)
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Simon looks so pretty and so sad. (And how did Omar manage to look even younger this season??) He wants to be done with this whole thing. Also I checked but 1.2 millions kronor is not as much as I thought it would be (it's apparently around 107 000€, which is not bad, but I was expecting more)
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I see what you did there Simon 😏 (Can someone gif this scene and put it in parallel with Wilhelm seeing Simon's room for the first time and saying "cozy" in season 1? :p)
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The boys coming back to the meeting: very smooth. Nobody knows what you were doing. Nop. Not at all. (We can see Linda kinda smirking when Simon sits back whereas Kristina looks like she just ate a very sour lemon). Wilhelm arranging his hair and Simon smiling at him: they might be in the middle of an important meeting and at the Palace but they're still 2 teenage boys in love (and I love them for that 💜)
Rickard looked and sounded like such an idiot in the previous seasons that I didn't expect him to actually be competent! But I guess we were mostly seeing him through August's eyes... I know Rickard said he was the best lawyer in the country but I have to admit that I thought he was just bragging ^^' Also: August is such an asshole. Did he really need to rile up Wilhelm like that? He's got quite the confidence to attack him and tell him how he just fuck things up on his own, in front of everyone like that, including the queen. Who, again, is not defending her son!! She tells them to shut up but she says nothing to August for talking like that to her son 😠
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(They look like they've been called to the principal office). Kristina doesn't look at them immediately, she looks at Erik's picture on her desk first. Then she looks at August. And then finally at Wilhelm. She is so awful to him this season... Right from the start. And then she breaks down crying for Erik.
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While Wilhelm holds her. I wasn't expecting to see her grieve so much this season. We didn't see that at all in season 2. Is it because she repressed all of her emotions too much? I hate that she breaks down like that just after Wilhelm publicly coming out. How can she not be there for him. I get that it must be hard to lose a son, but she still has a very alive one, who needs her.
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Kristina is not getting redeemed in this season but Linda kinda is! I was super happy to see her get in mama bear's mode at the trial ^^ It was about time!! But here: I'm sorry Linda but it's not your son's role to keep you updated about what's going on in your house! You're the mother! Stop putting everything on this kid's shoulders!! Maybe he never tells you but do you ever ask??
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Simon being truly angry at Sara is so good. I am so happy so he's able to feel that way and to not feel like he has to repress it, to forgive her, to help her. She did something truly bad and he's allowed to be mad. Also look at his angry lil' face 💜
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In things that made me laugh: Wilhelm's reaction and face to learning that Simon is grounded all semester xD He was talking all smoothly/flirty and then his tone changes so dramatically when he realizes he won't be able to get his boyfriend in his bed very soon! Horny boy is horny (and frustrated :p)
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This faaaaaace ☹
I'm happy to see that Simon still has Ayub and Rosh here to support him. I wish they would have told him that replying to comments online was a bad idea though. You know the saying kids: don't feed the trolls!!
Wilhelm looks like such a normal teenager when he gets back to his room. First time we see him so carefree. It breaks my heart to know that on the other side Simon is so unwell already.
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Wilhelm waking up happy and smiling. And being just a teenager (for the first time in a very long time): thinking about his boyfriend, redrawing the heart on his hand. It's such teenager things!! My boy just wants to have a normal life... (And then he's immediately reminded that he's actually not just a regular teenager with Farima's text).
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Simon's worried face when he asks about Wilhelm's initiation. You can see he's truly horrified at the idea that he might have gone through what's been described in the article.
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And then it starts: the piling up of everything on Wilhelm's shoulders. First his mother looking really unwell and breaking down (even though she hasn't been said to be officially ill yet), and now the negative impact of his speech on the school... Which Vincent takes great pleasure in reminding him about.
This first episode is really good at setting things in motion. We see already the beginning of what's gonna go down during this season: Simon not feeling well, dealing with online hatred, struggling with his new place next to Wilhelm in the spotlight. And Wilhelm trying to finally live a carefree life at school with his boyfriend now that he's officially out but slowly getting crushed under the pressure of his role as Crown Prince and the increasingly obvious lack of support from his parents.
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salamisatos · 4 months
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late to the party?
I recently finished Xena's first season and it's the first time I'm rewatching it since I was a teen. And I'm just overwhelmed. I finished "Is there a doctor in the house?" last night and spent my whole day thinking about the episode and the season as a whole.
The thing is, I missed tv so much without even realizing it. Halfway through the season it hit me that we did used to have mid-season finales and the storyline would go a certain way to 1) give us a twist or 2) plant the seeds for the finale. What a joy, truly.
Anyways, from what I could remember the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle was never just implied but I thought they had only started to add more things in later seasons but it's so clear that this build up starts as soon as season 1. It was a very pleasant surprise, actually.
The start of Gabrielle's hero journey is breathtaking. I love a good "young and naive sidekick that tries to keep their heart pure even after witnessing the horrors of the world" trope. She starts like that and it's so painfully clear how much Xena wants to protect that and at the same time in later episodes we also see how much she respects Gabrielle's worldview. I also love that when she goes back home to figure herself out after freezing facing a dangerous situation it's 100% her choice. It was an amazing choice to put this moment right after she starts becoming more and more competent in battle, taking more care of herself because I feel like it was such a turning point for her. It's like in that moment she fully understood how high the stakes were and it's heartbreaking to see Xena come to the realization that she can't help Gabrielle with that. Ugh, I love it.
Speaking of Xena, I love how through the season we see her getting more and more fond of Gabrielle but really keeping her at arms length because she thinks she's not a good person. They are always doing things kind of separately, mostly Gabrielle staying behind and what not. I also love how this power trip and bloodlust she gets into feels almost like an addiction and it's such a painful struggle. She's trying so hard and Gabrielle is so ready to vouch for her, to absolve her of all her wrong doings, even us as audience feel so much in the way she's trying to do what's right and then bam they hit us with Callisto.
AND IT'S SO GOOD! like the literal personification of everything she did wrong. and they show us in such a nice way how much Xena understands and accepts that what she's doing is basically the bare minimum. She's not going to be absolved of anything, she's doing what's right because it's the right thing to do because she doesn't want that pain and suffering anymore and not because people will cheer and forgive her on the spot. She won't cheer and forgive herself on the spot.
It blows my mind how she's as caring as she's tough. I feel like often in media people still struggle to balance this line with the "strong female character" and here I felt it was done so naturally. In the last episode we see her using so many of her battle techniques but this time to help heal people. People she doesn't even know. We see her so practical, rationally teaching medicine as we know it to Hippocrates lol but then it all comes crashing down so painfully when Gabrielle gets injured. Like, that's her guide, her northern star, her partner and best friend. The scene where she's trying to get Gabrielle back is just so so so strong. She's like a cornered animal, no one is going to help her, she's at her most vulnerable and everything is so raw and desperate it truly took my breath away.
I don't think that's when she realized she really loved Gabrielle, I think she's known that for quite some time at this point but it was the first time she actually had to face what it would be like to really lose her and it was the worst thing that has ever happened to her.
Anyways I don't even know if I'm making sense, I just felt a lot of things and decided to let it out. I just love them so much it's crazy. And they love each other so much it's even crazier.
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torturedpoetemotions · 5 months
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Like. I have fifteen years of trust issues when it comes to this stuff so I'm in no way saying anything to defend anything or stating a belief or even truly theorizing here but. Rewatching seasons 1-5 really has me feeling like that. Those comments from That Interview HAVE to be sarcasm/trolling, right? Right????
Because the level of out of touch you'd have to be to think anyone invested in this show actually cares that Nandor is (barely) Guillermo's boss, or to think that they're not in gross, mushy, big, forever, life-changing, unhinged, kill and die for each other love...truly is breathtaking to me. To the point I kind of want to refuse to believe it's possible for someone directly involved in the show to BE that out of touch?
Especially after all the heavy lifting done in seasons 2-4 to eliminate any perceived power imbalance between them? Showing that Guillermo is immune to hypnosis and can best Nandor in a fight. The lengths gone to in order to illustrate how important they are to each other, how well they know each other.
Nandor's arc for two whole seasons of the show LITERALLY being looking for love in all the wrong places while Guillermo stands faithfully by his side, giving him the comfort and companionship he's so desperately seeking the whole time. MARWA AND ALL THE KISSING AND CUDDLING OF GUILLERMO AT THEIR LITERAL WEDDING RECEPTION AFTER NANDOR WISHES FOR HER TO LIKE WHAT HE LIKES. Nandor's immediate and obvious jealousy when Guillermo introduces Freddie. Nandor's grief when he thinks Guillermo is dead. The way Nandor can't handle it when Guillermo leaves in general. Guillermo visiting the worst humiliation a vampire can experience upon Nandor and Nandor just...getting over it? Helping complete his transformation? Helping give him his humanity back when Guillermo realizes this isn't what he wants? Breaking one of the greatest vampire taboos in the process like it's nothing? The frankly stunning revelation that he's always known Guillermo wasn't ready, and that his holding off has always been FOR GUILLERMO?
And Guillermo's sadness whenever Nandor pushes him away. The first time we see him cry is because Nandor told him to take that other offer. Guillermo being willing to die to save Nandor (and Nandor actually almost dying to save Guillermo). Guillermo's obvious jealousy and protectiveness when it came to Nandor's thing with Gail. Guillermo rescuing Nandor from himself with the cult. Nandor being the first one he reveals his secret vampire killer heritage to. Nandor being the last one Guillermo tells about his turning, because he doesn't want to hurt him. Nandor's indifference at the end of season 4 being the thing that actually pushes Guillermo to go to Derek, despite every other setback and loss they've suffered that year. Guillermo literally saying the words with his mouth "I love Nandor the most."
Also just. The two of them LITERALLY being the embodiment of what the other one wants most AND being the one to pull the other back from their most self-destructive attempts to get it? I mean COME ONNNNNNN.
I know TV writers have a long and fucking stupid history of doing this shit. I do. I know it. But like...this show is already so fucking queer? And it's so in-your-face INTENTIONAL about Guillermo and Nandor's relationship? To the point it's almost been the A plot of an entire fucking season? Between my trust issues and my media literacy and my queer little heart's stupid insistence on hoping...I'm struggling, fam.
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toomuchracket · 1 year
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happiness
my first fic for everyone's parasocial husband ross! that beautiful man RADIATES comfort and domesticity, and frankly it's a crime that there are like no fics of him as a dad on here, so that's what this is: ross and his wifey enjoying a chill day at home with their month-old daughter (featuring excited best friend matty, because it's funny and you're all rabid matty stans (mood, tbf)). also, spoiler alert for the season 2 finale of New Girl? enjoy!
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stifling a yawn with your hoodie-covered fist, you pad into the kitchen of your house, the chill of the tiled floor noticeable even through your socks. ross, clad in a hoodie much like your (well, his) own, is fiddling about with the espresso machine you guys got as a wedding present from adam and carly. sunshine streams through the window and glints off the ring on his left hand, which makes your cheeks lift into a smile.
coming up behind your husband, you wrap your arms as best you can around his muscular torso, pressing your forehead to his back and inhaling his scent, a heady mix of sandalwood aftershave and laundry detergent from the hoodie. without turning around, ross takes your left hand in his and kisses it softly just below your wedding ring, then speaks. "she settled down ok, i take it?"
"went out like a light," you reply. "she is your daughter, after all."
ross chuckles, still busying himself with the coffee contraption. "not like her mother, fighting to stay awake despite exhaustion," he mocks, turning in your hold to look at you pointedly, although there's a playful sparkle in his dark eyes. ross passes you a steaming espresso cup - comically tiny in his massive hands - and plants another soft kiss on your forehead. "thought you might need that, my love."
you murmur a thank you and tip the contents of the cup into your mouth, wincing at the overwhelming initial combination of heat and bitterness. it softens into something pleasant as it travels down your throat, though, and you shiver as you feel the caffeine take effect.
ross, ever-attentive to your every move, places his hands on your waist, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. "you ok?"
"mhmm."
ross doesn't seem convinced. "you look exhausted, love. do you want another coffee? or a nap?"
you smirk as you place the empty cup onto the counter, bringing your hands up to rest on your husband's broad chest. "trying to get me into bed, mr macdonald?"
"always, mrs macdonald," ross quips back, his face softening and his grip on your waist relaxing. he leans down, you rise up on tiptoe, and your lips meet somewhere in the middle. despite the back-and-forth innuendo, there's no desire behind the kiss - well, none more than usual, when your husband looks as good as he does. it's tender, soft, romantic; just dreamy, really.
you open your eyes slowly as ross pulls his lips away from yours and trails them gently down towards your neck, smiling as his facial hair tickles your bare skin. he presses a soft kiss under your chin, then whispers in your ear. "d'you think we'll have time to watch an episode of new girl before bean wakes up?"
"god, domestic life really has changed you," you tease, stroking your husband's head as he nuzzles into you. "you used to sneak me away for quickies when we had any free time, and now you just want to watch sitcoms."
"it's your fault, bloody putting it on for a rewatch and getting me hooked," ross laughs. he begins pressing kisses into your neck; softly at first, then slightly more passionate, which makes your head spin a little. "but i'm more than happy to go back to the quickies as soon as we've been given the go-ahead to do so. always wanted to shag a milf, actually."
"easy, tiger," you giggle, pulling ross up to plant a quick kiss on his lips before leading him to the living room. "come on, let's see what jess and nick are up to today."
the two of you settle in your usual position on the couch; you perched sideways on ross' lap, his head resting on your chest, a soft tartan blanket covering you both. you control the remote, letting out a quiet whoop when you see that elaine's big day is today's episode. "oh, this is a good one!"
"you've said that about every episode so far."
"i know, but... shut up, and just watch."
ross chuckles, but does as he's told. you half-watch the episode (admittedly, you've seen it four times already) and half-watch him, smiling at his reactions; his quiet "aww" when schmidt sees cece in her wedding outfit, his cringes at nick and winston's antics, and - your favourite - his shocked gasp when elaine finally appears onscreen. "taylor swift?!"
his handsome face is so incredulous that you can't help but laugh. "told you it was a good episode."
"i can't believe they just revealed taylor swift like that," ross mutters, in obvious shock. his eyes widen, and he turns to face you. "wait, is this how the fans felt when we brought her out onstage at the o2 that time?"
you smile, opening your mouth to answer affirmatively; before you can, though, faint cries start to come through the baby monitor on the coffee table. clicking off the tv and throwing the blanket to one side, you and ross peel yourselves off the couch to stand. "well, we might not have made it through the whole episode" you begin, stretching slightly. "but at least bean had the good grace to wait until we'd seen taylor before she woke up and wanted attention."
ross laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the stairs. "prioritising taylor swift over her own needs? she's more like you than we thought."
you hit him gently on the arm. your daughter's cries increase in volume as you near her nursery, and even though you know she's alright the sound makes your heart ache. "it's alright, princess, we're coming!"
the two of you enter the sage-painted room and make a beeline for the crib, where your tiny girl whines and wriggles in discomfort. she stops crying as soon as ross gently lifts her up, cooing softly at her. "don't worry, bean, daddy's got you."
you caress the shock of dark hair on her little head, clearly inherited from her father; the big eyes she gazes at you sweetly with, though, are all yours. "do you need changing, princess? i think you do," you say, looking up at your husband. "do you want me to-"
"i've got her, love," ross replies, kissing your head as he carries the baby to her changing station. "will you grab me another outfit for her, though?"
"sure," you say, heading to the faded white wardrobe in the corner of the room as ross cleans up and babbles to your daughter ("for someone so tiny, you're quite good at being so stinky... but you're sooooo cute, you're just like mummy, she's cute too"), which makes your heart swell with love. you rifle through the - honestly excessive - collection of baby clothes hanging up neatly, until a black onesie with a familiar white decal on the front makes you stop in your tracks. perfect.
as you head back over to ross and the baby, anticipation of showing them your outfit pick growing with every step, the doorbell rings. ross and you lock eyes, confused; you hand him the onesie, without looking to see his reaction, and hurry downstairs to answer the door. nearing it, you can see a familiar mess of dark curls through the glass panes, which comes into focus as you open the door.
across the threshold, laden with a mixture of gift and shopping bags, stands an extremely tanned and beaming matty. "surprise!" he cries, ever the drama queen. "there she is, my new favourite milf!"
"eww, freak," you faux-grumble, pulling him as best you can into a hug while avoiding being bashed by his bags. "come in. how was louis' wedding?"
"well, you know my brother. it was full-on, but good," replies matty, following you into the hallway and putting his stuff down on the ground. "would've been better if someone hadn't stolen the limelight by going into labour the day of the rehearsal dinner, though. it was all anyone could talk about - everyone got off their flights into milan and immediately went 'did you hear baby macdonald's on the way?'. you couldn't have kept your legs shut for a few more days?"
you glare at matty for a few seconds, then the two of you break into snorts of laughter. aside from your literal husband, matty is the person in the band you're closest to; the two of you are best friends, a double act built on awful senses of humour and dubiously-fake pretentiousness, and he's the only person in the world who loves ross almost as much as you do.
when you stop laughing, matty places both hands on your shoulders and looks at you from arm's length-away. "nah, for real, you look well. i'm glad," he says, smiling earnestly at you and hugging you properly. he then claps his hands together once, a signifier of a change in conversation topic. "now - where's my best friend, and where's this new baba i've heard so much about?"
"in her room," you say as you nod towards the staircase. you begin to climb up, matty hot on your heels. his obvious excitement is quite touching, but you can't resist throwing a dig at him whenever possible. "and she has a name, you know."
"a flipping indecipherable one" your friend mutters under his breath.
you whip around when you reach the first landing, glaring at him seriously this time. "don't you fucking start, healy."
matty raises his hands in defensive apology. "christ, sorry! i just don't know how to pronounce some scottish names. is it like eye- oh."
you've reached the baby's room, where ross stands in the doorway with your daughter in his arms. she looks so small against him, one tiny hand reaching up in an attempt to play with the cord of his hoodie. your husband grins at matty - standing statue-still with an awestruck expression - and speaks softly. "matthew, this is eilidh."
you both watch your friend watch your daughter, his mouth moving soundlessly as he inputs the pronunciation of her name into his brain. ay-ly. matty's eyes, which appear to be welling up, flick up to ross', and he sniffles through a grin. "god, rass, you're such a dilf."
"agreed," you pipe up, smirking at your husband.
ross shifts the still-awake eilidh so she's tucked safely into the curve of one arm and laughs, minding his volume so as to not freak her out. with the other, he reaches for his best friend; they each wrap an arm around the other's shoulders, as they must have done a million times in their lives. "so, what d'you think of your new goddaughter?"
for the second time in less than five minutes, matty freezes. his jaw drops, and he looks between ross' face and yours in utter shock. "for real? i'm her godfather?" you nod, smiling, and matty's eyes start to well up again. he leans over to look at eilidh, who placidly returns his gaze, and the tears begin to fall. "she's so- oh my god, she's wearing self-titled merch!"
matty crouches to the floor and covers his face, fully sobbing. ross quirks his lip at you in confusion, then pats matty's head gently with his free hand. "i know, mate, her outfit did me in too."
"she's just so little," comes the reply from the floor, voice wracked with sobs. matty drags himself up to standing, wiping his eyes. "christ, i can't cope."
for some inane reason, your maternal instinct seems to kick in at the sight of him. you walk over to your friend and wrap your arms around him comfortingly; matty rests his head on your shoulder, his chest still heaving sporadically as he continues to cry. "what's all this about, mate?" you say softly, in a tone not dissimilar to the one you use to address your month-old daughter. "i thought you hated kids?"
"i do, mostly," matty replies, voice muffled by your (ross') hoodie. he begins crying harder again. "but she's half of two of my favourite people in the world, so she's perfect, and she's just so tiny!"
you're not sure if it's the postnatal hormones coursing through you, or if it's pride in getting matthew healy to be serious and emotional for once, but you feel your bottom lip tremble the way it does before you start to cry. ross, too, is welling up as he wraps his free arm around matty; soon, the only person in the room not crying is eilidh, who stares at you all in what appears to be judgement. matty is the first to notice her expression, a laugh lifting his tear-stricken cheeks. "wow, kid, you really do look like your mum."
you smack matty lightly on the back of the head, moving to stand next to your husband and daughter. you lift eilidh out of ross' arms, holding her up so your faces are level; she beams toothlessly at you, chubby hands reaching for your cheeks, earning a short refrain of "awws" from your audience. after kissing her on the forehead briefly, you turn her so she's between you and ross, all three members of your little family facing matty. "right, we need you to settle an argument."
matty's brow furrows. "oh?"
ross rolls his eyes. "jesus, not this again."
you ignore your husband's input and continue talking. "yeah. whose nose has she inherited, mine or his? we can't tell."
"hmmmm," matty ponders. he steps closer to the three of you, scrutinising ross first, then you, then stops in front of eilidh, directly addressing her. "i don't know whose nose you got either, darlin', but on you it is very, very cute."
he punctuates the end of his sentence with a tentative boop to your daughter's tiny nose, which makes her gurgle happily. matty giggles, and you turn to look lovingly at ross, who reciprocates your expression as he helps you hold eilidh.
matty steps back again, surveying the scene before him adoringly; his two best friends and the baby they made together, the love in the room palpable in the air. "i love you guys. this just feels... right. like this is how life was always supposed to be for you."
you're inclined to agree.
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