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asnarkyandironicusername · 7 months

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Day 11 of @remadoramicrofics - That's Disgusting

Remus watched lovingly as Tonks prompted Teddy through the platform. He smiled as Teddy braced himself and set off for the wall before disappearing. Remus glanced around one last time before slipping through after them. As soon as he passed through, he was assaulted by a barrage of noise. Parents stood with their children – some fighting to get away and some clinging to their legs.

Teddy turned to him. “Do you take the train, Da?”

“No, I have to be there early – someone has to welcome you!” When Teddy had turned six, Minerva had arrived at the Lupins’ doorstep with a job offer, noting that Remus would no longer need to be a stay-at-home father.

Remus had politely refused, hoping to spare her the criticism Dumbledore had received following his hire. Minerva was insistent, though, and had roped Dora in on it. Eventually, he had agreed to return to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts on the condition that he could commute from Hogsmeade.

Teddy looked at his mother with wide eyes. “Do you think if I change my hair, the hat will let me pick my house?”

“Which house do you want?”

Teddy froze and Remus watched his hair dull from a vibrant teal to an icy blue. “I don’t know, which one do you think I should pick?”

“It doesn’t matter what house you’re in, Teddy,” Remus assured him with a hand on his shoulder.

“You and Harry were in Gryffindor,” he pointed out.

Remus shrugged. “Yes, but your mother was a Hufflepuff and your Nan a Slytherin. Luna and Penelope were both Ravenclaws.”

“There’s no bad house,” Dora stressed.

Teddy nodded resolutely. “Alright.”

Tonks grinned. “Want us to walk you on the train?”

“No,” he said quickly and set off a few paces ahead of them, muttering, “how embarrassing.”

“Can you believe that our baby’s all grown up? I suppose that makes you a bit of an old man,” Dora teased.

Remus rolled his eyes. “He’s hardly all grown up.” He smiled at her. “Thinking of trading me in for a younger model?”

“Oh, you know I would never,” she smacked him playfully as they followed Teddy. It was getting a bit harder to keep up with him; he had pulled a hat over his head. As of late, his hair had been cycling through house colors while his eyes remained a steely gray. Dora had told Remus that the same happened to her the night before she left – she had been so overwhelmed she could control her morphs.

“Harry!” Remus said as he embraced his son’s Godfather. “Glad you could make it.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss seeing my Godson off to Hogwarts.” Harry looked Teddy over. “A bit nervous, are we?”

Teddy shrugged. “Maybe.”

“He’s worried about the sorting,” Dora whispered.

“Oh, nothing to worry about there,” Harry said, “It doesn’t hurt a bit.”

Remus found himself chuckling at the joke. Harry had always looked like James, but lately Remus noticed he had begun to act a bit more like him, too. Sometimes, it was painfully hard to watch – especially the older Harry got, knowing his father had never reached that milestone.

He had felt that way the night he had come home from the battle – he was married, with a son he would raise, but he had spent the whole night wondering if he had deserved it. James and Sirius had never had such opportunities and they were far more deserving, could have been far better at it. When he had confessed these feelings to Nymphadora on a particularly sleepless night, he thought, for just a moment, that she was going to literally knock some sense into him.

She had simply pulled him close and insisted that everyone deserved to be happy and loved – it wasn’t something he had to earn – and that, really, his friends would only want the best for him. More surprisingly, though, she told him that she understood. That the ministry used to harp about survivor’s guilt after missions but that she had never really felt it until that night.

Remus was brought back to the conversation by Dora’s gentle hand on his arm. Teddy was rolling his eyes at something Harry had said and Harry was grinning at them. Remus, despite his usual hesitance at public displays of affection, pulled Dora into a quick kiss. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you more,” she said as she pulled him into another.

They broke apart at Teddy’s indignant protests. “Mum, Da, stop! That’s disgusting!”

Remus chuckled and ducked his head to hide his blush but Dora just laughed. “Oh, just you wait, your Nan used to give me a big kiss on the cheek right before she’d put me on the train.”

She lunged for him, but Harry grabbed her. “Run, Teddy, I’ll hold her off!”

Teddy looked like he was considering it, but Remus caught a hold of his arm, “There will be no more embarrassing Teddy,” he declared, calling a truce between the three of them. “But you are required to give your mother and I a hug before you board.”

“A side hug,” he bartered.

“A real hug,” he insisted, “or I’ll let her kiss both your cheeks and sneak her into the sorting.”

“You wouldn’t,” Harry cried as Dora pulled out of his grip.

“Don’t test me,” he warned playfully.

“Fine,” Teddy reluctantly agreed, though he hugged his father tight.

“We’re so proud of you,” Remus whispered as he squeezed his son back, “And we always will be.”

Dora sniffled as she held him tight. “You better write to me or I’ll send a howler of me singing,” she threatened.

“I promise,” Teddy said.

“Want help with your things?” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Teddy said as he bounded for the train.

Dora turned to him, slack-jawed. “Can you believe him?”

Remus grinned at her. “Can you blame him; we’re old and embarrassing.”

“Speak for yourself,” she said as she pulled him into another kiss.

#remadora microfics #remadora fluff #Teddy goes to Hogwarts #supportive godfather Harry #First day jitters #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #nymphadora lupin #teddy lupin #harry potter #Godfather Harry Potter #remus lupin fanfiction #nymphadora tonks fanfic #remus x nymphadora #remus x tonks #Parents are embarrassing even when they're a metmorhpagi and a werewolf and warheroes

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snarkylinda · 1 year

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I started an AU where Elle, Derek, Penelope, JJ, Emily, and Spencer meet when they were children/teenagers and became BEST FRIENDS because it's what they deserve.

Friends are much cheaper that a shrink

1985. Chicago, Illinois.

“Do I really have to go?”

Fran Morgan sighted for what felt like the tenth time that morning, her hand clenching the car’s wheel a bit tighter as she tried her best to keep her voice even, soothing, as her eyes meet her son’s through the rearview mirror.

“We had talked about this, yes you do” At his pout, she quickly added “Don’t give me that look Derek, is for your own good”

“The girls didn’t have to….”

“Sarah is receiving counseling from someone at her school actually, and Desi…..well, we had yet to have that conversation but I can guarantee she will as well” Her eyes softened when Derek turned his own to the window, his arms crossed over his chest “Besides what do you know? You could make new friends in there, it could even be fun!”

“Doubt it….”

Silence fell over them again as Fran refocused her eyes on the roadway, occasionally checking him with the mirror. It wasn’t until Derek turned his attention to the window that she let her own gaze fall, her grip on the wheel loosening a bit as her little smile vanished. 18 months. It has been 18 months since their lives fell apart. From the moment that her, in that time, 10-year-old witnessed the untimely death of his father, his hero. Time didn’t heal any wounds- if anything, they seemed to only get worse. Fran had lost count of how many times she had been called to the school because Derek got into a fight with a fellow classmate.

“He is in the anger stage of the grieving process, but sadly he can’t move on from there without proper help”

The counselor had told her the last time that happened, the time her son actually gave one of his upper classmates a black eye. It was defending his cousin, Cindi, after he lifted up her skirt when she passed by- but his record and the violent evidence got him suspended for two weeks anyways. Two weeks that Fran was determined to make the best of.

Her sister-in-law called her the night of the incident, after Cindi told her everything about the incident. Yvonne then mentioned a special, counseling program for law enforcement and other high risks workers’ families in the city, and Fran didn’t have to think it twice. Derek, on the other hand, hated the idea the moment he heard about it.

“Listen honey, I know you don’t want to talk about it but it’s not healthy to bottle everything up like that- and I know youhate the school counselor so….why not talk to others that know what you are going through?”

“I am not ´going through´ anything mom, I am fine” His scowl slowly disappeared and he lowered his arms and rested his forehead against the car’s window “Is Des you should be worried about, I caught her crying in the bathroom the other day…..”

“As I said, that is a conversation I will have with her soon. You can be sure of that” Fran noticed the way her son’s body stilled when the door came to a stop, her hand hovered over the key but she didn’t pull it off yet, not before turning to actually look at him “Derek, I appreciate how much you worry over your sisters, I truly do. But the feeling is mutual. If you don’t do this for yourself, do it for them- Sarah told me you hadn’t been….sleeping well lately”

“I have a few bad dreams here and there, nothing to fuss about” Derek mumbled, but unlocked his seatbelt anyways. He knew that there was not convincing his mother of going back now, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. And he certainly didn’t appreciate Sarah outing him like this either “Snitch….”

“Hey now, she is just concerned about you” Fran scolded lightly, finally turning the car off and unlocking her own seat belt “Just like you fuss over Desiree, Sarah does the same for you. It’s an older sibling instinct”

All Derek did in response was huff and get out of the car; followed closely by his mother who -with a glare- made him close the car’s door way more gently than he clearly intended to originally and followed Fran to what looked like a hospital without the ambulance parking lot.

´Let’s get this over with…..´

“I want to go home….” Elle Greenaway murmured, hiding her face in the little plush rabbit she carried around. It has been 20 minutes since her mom dropped her there and left for work- and it felt like hours. She hated every second of it. She hated having to sit on those hard,very uncomfortable seats. She hated the way that the AC had the whole place freezing and her dress didn’t protect her limps, she hated the way these strangers would pass by her and stare at her withpity as she had, without a doubt, looked as upset as she felt.

But what she hated the most was having to talk to a bunch of those strangers about her hero, that would never come back to her.

Elle resented him. How dare he leave her and her mother all alone? He promised he would always come back!

But that recement couldn’t be taken on someone that wasn’t there anymore so she took it off on the next target: her classmates, particularly those mean girls that always gossiped about her because they thought she was “too boyish”- and that had landed her on her current situation.

And she hated every part of it,so much.

She hated it so much she didn’t even notice a teenage girl approaching her until her hand was on her shoulder, making her jump in surprise and almost drop her plush.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” The older girl said, bending down slightly to speak eye-to-eye with Elle, who stared back with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Where is your mommy?”

“She left for work…” Elle murmured, her eyes narrowing as if she was scanning the teenager, who was offering a rather awkward smile in return. “I am supposed to be waiting for the counselor….”

“Are you Elle Greenaway?” a hesitant nod “Well search no more sweetie, I am your counselor”

“Really?” Now it was turn for the older girl to nod. “Great, so we can end this as soon as possible and I can go back home”

´Oh this one got attitude…. nice´

“Trust me honey, I don’t want to be here even more than you do. But we gotta wait, I am supposed to take another kid like you in”

“Another kid like me?....what is that supposed to mean?” Elle watched with a raised eyebrow as the supposed counselor bite her lower lip and started fidgeting, which made her realize…. “What happened to your nails?”

“Oh that? It’s a bad habit, I tend to bite them when I am anxious….” She was grateful for the momentary distraction, but knew that the little girl was waiting for an answer to the initial question “and what I mean with kids like you I am referring to….someone that can understand what you are going through. It’s part of the program, that way you feel less….alone when you speak to me or my colleagues”

´Nobody can understand!´ Elle wanted to scream, but knew that this girl wouldn’t hesitate to tell her mother that, which would mean more appointments, and that was the last thing she wanted, so she simply hummed and hugged her plushie close.

“What is its name?” The counselor asked, after a few minutes of awkward silence, hoping that the other kid she was meant to take in would arrive soon so they could all get this over with “Your bunny, I mean”

“Peanut…” Elle whispered, and the older girl didn’t miss the way the voice she had clearly tried to keep even during their whole exchange quivered.

For the tenth time that day, she realized that this was abad idea.

‘Seriously, what was mom thinking? I can’t do this; these kids will go home even more damaged! ´

“Excuse me” Both girls turned toward the new voice to find a woman holding a boy’s hand, none of them had realized that the previously semi-crowned corridor was completely empty now. “I am here for the counseling program, the social worked told me to search for someone called Emily Prentiss”

Emily quickly straightens herself up, resisting the urge to pick on her nails again and instead offering a hand for Fran to shake “That would be me, Ma’am. It’s a pleasure” Her eyes landed on Derek, who was doing his best to not look at either of them “And you must be Derek, am I right?”

“Yeah….” He mumbled, clearly asthrilledabout being there as the two girls. But Fran ignored his tone in favor of a new concern…

“Um, aren’t you…. A bit young to be counseling, sweetie?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but the girl in front of her couldn’t be older than Sarah. Emily simply sighed, already expecting the questions, but reciting what her mother had pretty much forced her to memorize by heart anyways.

“Is part of our special program, most of the counselors hadn’t graduated high school yet. We believe that the closer to the age of the patients, the easier it will be to….well, form a connection of some sort”

´Doubt it´Both kids thought in unison, but Fran simply smiled. Now she could see why her sister-in-law had recommended her this program. She kneeled in front of her son, making him look back at her with as much disdain for the situation as he could mutter….but she could see it- the concern in his eyes.

“Hey….just give it a chance, ok?” At the clear hesitation on his face, Fran added “Do it for me, please?”

That did the trick.

“Ok….I’ll try”

“That is my boy” She kissed his forehead before giving him a gentle push to where Emily and Elle were standing.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it though” He added before following the girls to another room, making both Emily and Fran snort as Elle quietly agreed.

“Same here, buddy” Emily murmured after closing the door behind her, biting her lip as now she was all on her own with two kids thatclearlywere there against their will, just like her. "Why don't we start by....presenting ourselves? Name, age, and why you are here"

The kids shared a look before shrugging, Elle stepped in first.

"Elle Greenaway, 10 years old, and my mom forced me to"

"Derek Morgan, 12 years old, and my mom forced me to"

"Emily Prentiss, 15 years old, and my mom forced me to"

The three, despite the situation, couldn't help but chuckle. Knowing that even the counselor wanted nothing to do with this program was kind of....comforting.

´It means we can get this over with faster!´ Was the shared thought in the room as they sat down.

1985. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

"State your name and age to the class, please"

The whole classroom started at the young girl standing in front of them- a smile as bright as her yellow dress, boots, and earrings settled on her face as she stared back at them. The only one in the room that wasn't even looking at her was another girl sitting at the back of the room, her eyes were fixated on the window she was sitting next to instead, her head rested on her right hand as her left fidgeted her necklace.

The girl in the front simply nodded in the teacher's direction and cleared her throat "Hi, my name is Penelope, Penelope Garcia, I am 8 years old. Me and my parents are from California but we moved here a few weeks ago. Nice to meet you!"

Now even the girl on the back turned toward her direction, her eyes widening slightly, as did the others's in the class. And so the whispers started.

"Quiet, please" The teacher hushed, one of her hands on Penelope's shoulder as the girl simply smiled at her, way more timidly that the way she had at her fellow classmates through. "Penelope skipped a couple of grades, but I want you to treat her like you would with other classmates, understood?"

A chorus of "Yes ma'am" was heard across the room, but some hushed whispers spared across it remained. The girl on the back simply turned to the window again.

"Now where could you sit...." The teacher's eyes roamed around the room, but Penelope was faster.

"There is a free sit over there" She was already on her way to it, but the teacher grabbed her shoulder gently before she could move further "Ma'am?"

"Er....I don't think is a good idea, Penelope-"

"If she wants to sit there I don't mind" The girl on the window spoke, her eyes never leaving their designed spot. Her tone was even, disinterested -monotone.

The teacher sighed, but gestured to the puzzled Penelope to the empty chair next to the older girl without another world.

Penelope didn't pay any mind to all the eyes that were fixated on her as she made her way to the back of the classroom, next to the girl that had spoken previously. Even when she put her backpack on the chair with a loud thud, she didn't move from her spot on the window nor look back at her. This didn't settle well with Penelope.

"Um...Hi! Nice to meet you, I guess we'll be desk neighbors?" Penelope didn't miss the way that all the other desks were a couple of feet away from them on her way to the back, nor the way a couple of girls sitting in front were staring at them withconcern.

No response.

Penelope's smile slowly vanished as she turned toward the front, deciding to focus on whatever the teacher had started talking about as she started to fidget with her bright pink pen. She heard a sigh next to her, that made her turn toward her "desk neighbor", who, for once, was staring at her instead of the window.

"That is a cute pen" She murmured, her tone still dry but her eyes revealed something else....curiosity. Penelope simply smiled.

"Thanks! My mom gave it to me before we moved in"

"You said you guys are from California, didn't you?" A nod "Why did you move here of all places?"

"My dad's job" Penelope answered with a little shrug. Despite paying undivided attention to the little conversation that had sparked between her and her aloof classmate, she still managed to write everything the teacher was talking about with precision and a flawless, pink calligraphy. The older girl could start to see why she was in the 5th grade despite her age.

"I see...."

Silence again, but this time it wasn't heavy and awkward- despite the fact Penelope had clearly noticed the unusual atmosphere surrounding the older girl, she never questioned it, not even staring at her when she turned back to her window-gazing. She just....smiled at her whenever their eyes would meet during the class.

She had to admit, it was contagious.

"Jennifer Jareau"

"Huh?" Penelope turned toward her, confusion all over her face but her eyes softened when she was met with a little, shy smile.

"My name is Jennifer, Jennifer Jareau" She said, imitating Penelope's tone when she introduced herself before. The younger girl was basically bouncing on her seat as her face lightened up, she dropped her precious pen in favor of taking one of Jennifer's -the one that wasn't holding her pendant- on hers. She was met with zero position to the sudden touch.

"Can I call you J.J?"

"I would feel offended if you didn't"

1985. Las Vegas, Nevada.

"Excuse me" A meek, timid voice broke through the recently hired "librarian's" daydreaming. It was her first time attending the reception on her own and so far- the day was incredibly slow andboring. Aside from her, the only two people around were an old man that was solving a crossword book on the table and a clearly hungover college student pulling a last-minute effort to save the semester. So the very small child standing in front of her desk with at least 5 books in his arms -which he was clearly struggling to carry- was the most interesting thing to walk those doors all day "Do you....um.... know where Ms. Archer is?"

The puzzled "librarian" had to blink twice before she registered his question "O-oh! Yeah, she is a friend of mine, had to leave early today thought"

She noticed the way he seemed to evade meeting her eyes as humanly possible, she tried hard to no profile the poor little thing as it was evident he felt really uncomfortable with a normal person's gaze, let alone aprofessionaldoing it. Plus, her colleagues had told her it was plain rude.

"Are you the...um... new librarian?" His voice was getting meeker by the second, but he made an effort to actually look at her eyes this time. Something on her chest tightened as his innocent eyes reminded her so much of the pair waiting for her at home.

"No no. I am just doing Ms. Archer a favor. I am on my vacation actually" She let out a quiet giggle. Her co-workers had stared at her wide-eyed when she told themwhereshe was taking her break, but it was just an excuse to stop by and focus on her classes. "In what can I help you in the meantime, buddy?"

"I just came to return these" His voice was much clearer now that his eyes focused on the books he had previously balanced on his arms instead that on her.

"Sure thing, just let me check them-" Her eyes widened as she recognized the cover of the first book she handed to her "Er....how old are you exactly, sweetie?"

"In years, months, weeks, days or hours?"

"What?" She was most lost by the minute, but he flinched and dropped his eyes again, his glasses almost falling out as he fidgeted.

"Right I was told to not do that, it's weird...." He murmured to himself like some kind of mantra before turning to her again with practiced seriousness.

"I am 4 years old" He said, no hesitation in his voice this time, but she could clearly see his body was tense.

"Er..... these books aren't for someone of your age bud"´Never mind that, can he actually read them?´ "Would you like me to help you find something more appropriated-"

"Don't even try miss" The old man on the table said, a little grin on his face as the boy waved in his direction "We don't get it either, but Spence here loves to read the Rossey guy"

"Rossi, Mr. Smith. His name is Rossi. And I just love the way he dissects the suspects' minds- makes them feel more...human"

"They shouldn't, kid. But whatever makes you happy I guess" He murmured before going back to his book, the student snickering at the exchange, and the temporal librarian completely lost.

"Your name is Spence, right?" Oh, she had to learn more.

"Spencer, yes. Spencer Reid" He corrected, adjusting his glasses again.

She smiled. If he was older, that would have felt extremely condescending and obnoxious, but she could tell it was a completely earnest, innocent comment. “Well Spencer, I am sure that ´Rossey´ will be very happy to know he has fans so young”´Or if he has any decency left, extremely concerned´

It was like all his previous shyness vanished into thin air. “Do you know Ms. Rossi?!” Spencer was almost clinging to the table.

“Something like that” She chuckled, but her eyes narrowed as the little bundle of energy started to rant about the book and- oh god,was he quoting it?

´He actually understands it. I can’t believe it…´

“And on page 234 he says that arsonists are-“ His ranting stopped abruptly as the church’s bell resonated, his eyes widening as he turned toward the clock on the wall. “Oh no, I better go back”

“Something wrong, Spencer?”´I mean aside from the fact you were about to go into extreme, gory detail about one of the worst cases I had to face at 4 years old?´

“I have to go home before….” He shook his head, a bit disappointed and sad he wouldn’t bring a new book home. A book he could use as an excuse to not hear his parents arguing. From his mother crying….if it was a good day.

“I understand…. But before you go” She grabbed a card from her purse, and put it on his open palm “When you are older…. You could visit my seminar; we would be really honored to have someone like you there”

“Someone like…me?” It was the first time that phrase wasn’t uttered in a…very specific tone, one he couldn’t pinpoint either, but it was definitely different. He read the card before facing turning toward her with wide eyes “You work for the FBI?”

Her smile widened as she mocked a little bow, making him giggle quietly “Agent Alex Blake at your service”

That night, as Spencer lay awake at his bed with the already routine screams and shouts, his hyperactive mind was, for once, focused on one thing alone

“I think you would fit with my class. Talk about it with your parents and when you are a bit older and had come to a decision, come see me in Virginia. I can get you that old man’s autograph with some pushing”

The front door was slammed close. His father left after an unfinished argument again, those instances were becoming more and more recurrent lately.

You would fit with my class.

He couldn’t hear his mother’s crying. That means it was a good day….or a very bad one.

Fit

His grip on the card Agent Blake had given to him was tight enough to start to break it. But it didn’t really matter, is not like he would forget what was on it anytime soon.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #alex blake

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andreafmn · 3 years

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Running In Circles - Chapter 2

Word Count: 2,663

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter Description: The team goes back to work as Aaron Hotchner considers retiring from the team and spend time with his son. (Y/n) can’t help but provide emotional support for the Hotchner boys.

A/N: I enjoy angst and slow burns way too much XD. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next->

Chapter 2

Once it was over, the interviews came. We knew the story. We lived it. The case was open and shut. They could try and make us pint it all on Hotch, the easy way out, but we knew better. And we would stand next to our unit chief whatever the price.

Haley’s funeral was no easier than being at the scene. It was a somber day and the sadness was imprinted in us. We all walked with dropped shoulders and a tight chest. I stood between Derek and Reid, using Morgan as support because I felt that my legs would give out at any moment. My father stood behind me rubbing circles on my back to comfort me. As we laid the roses on top of the casket, we laid to rest the life of Haley, a woman I only knew through the loving words Hotch spoke of.

The group did not know what to do to help the heartbroken man. It would take time to heal even just the smallest bit of his heart. All we could hope for was that he would come back to the team.

At the worst possible moment, the phone rings. No other team available and someone in need, we had to go to work. We all rolled our eyes or shook our heads; this was the job. But would it be the same without him?

I went to Hotch before we left and gave him a hug.

“Call me if you guys need anything,” he said.

“Just take care of your son,” I smiled, and he softly returned one of his own. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left to join the team.

On the plane, we were caught up with the case. We stored all our feelings and got the machines running. We needed to finish this quickly and perfectly.

Two women, both brunettes and young, high-powered executives, murdered in their own homes, the floor around them decorated with flower petals. After Emily and Derek visited the crime scene, we had another part of the puzzle, the unsub was stalking his victims. Everything just seemed so perfect and staged, there was no way he was not prepared.

I stayed with JJ in the station working on the announcement and trying to figure something else from the details provided and the crime scene photos, but JJ could see my head wasn’t in it completely for the first time.

“Hey,” she said, taking my attention from the piece of paper I had been eyeing for the past five minutes. “What’s on your mind? Talk to me.”

“Is it wrong that I feel bad for being here?” I sighed. “Working like nothing’s happened.”

“Of course not, we all feel a bit guilty,” she smiled. “I know you most of all.”

My eyes opened in shock.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). Everyone knows you have a not-so-secret crush on Hotch,” she laughed. “The only one that can’t see it is him. And probably your dad. Parents can be quite oblivious to their children’s feelings in this way.”

My head flew into my hands to cover the embarrassment that was flooding my cheeks. It was one thing to assume the whole team knew, another was to have it confirmed.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), we’ll see what comes of it. What I can say is that you can’t let this stop you from doing your job.”

She smiled one last time and it was all I needed to push Aaron Hotchner to the back of my mind and bring the case forward.

“Find anything?” My father asked entering the small room at the police station, Reid following behind.

“Several people had access to each home,” I said rubbing my temple. “Housekeeper, gardener, pool cleaner, dog walker…”

“Each with their own key and an alibi to match,” JJ added, an annoyed tone rolling off her tongue.

“Any crossover?”

“None. We even vetted delivery people and utility workers.” I sighed.

“Garcia, do you have anything?” Reid said, sitting down.

“There’s no hits at the prints at all. But I did what Sir Derek there asked, and I created a paper trail,” Penny explained. “There’s no cross-over between the two victims themselves in the weeks leading up to their murders, but they did run in similar circles.”

Penelope continued to explain how both victims lived quite a lavish and high-class lifestyle as Emily and Derek joined us. We figured this man would fit right in this crowd. Educated, intelligent, a gentleman. What we had yet to pinpoint was how the unsub entered the homes with no signs of forced entry. It was clear we were not going to make any headway tonight and Derek knew it too. So, he decided we should be done for the day and we would come back tomorrow well-rested and with fresh eyes.

That night I laid in the bed of my hotel room staring at the ceiling. All I could think of was Hotch and everything he was going through. I could only imagine.

And as if by fate, my phone rang. Aaron Hotchner.

“Hello?”

“Oh,” Hotch said surprised. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I guess I’m just worried about you.”

He chuckled softly. “You really shouldn’t.”

“But I do, Hotch.”

He stayed silent, only his slow breathing was heard through the phone.

“Did I fail her?” He asked after some minutes of comfortable silence.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promised her that I would catch Foyet and spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“And you still can.”

“But” he exhaled loudly. “How?”

“By being the best father you can be to Jack and continue living your life in the best way you can.”

“You know, Dave told me that I had to figure out what kind of father I wanted to be and then I’d know what to do. But I have no idea what that is.”

“Hotch…”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what kind of father I am. I catch killers. I save lives. I’m a hero until my key hits the front door, and then I’m just the father who’s never there. Haley was raising Jack all by herself and that was my support blanket. I was able to do my job because I knew he was cared for by another parent. A better parent.”

He sobbed softly as the last words escaped his mouth.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I said, trying my best not to sound angry. “To that little boy, you are the only real hero that exists. He knows that when you’re not home it’s because you’re out here catching the bad guys like Foyet and making the world better for his sake. He knows that everything you do is out of love for him.

You know, when I was little my dad was absent quite a lot because of this job, but there was one thing that I knew for sure, that he loved me more than anything and that he worked better and faster because he wanted to come back home to me. And never ever have I resented him for leaving and catching the bad guys. He’s the reason I became an FBI agent.

You are an amazing father and anything you choose will be the right thing for Jack.”

After a minute of sobs, Hotch started to calm down.

“Thank you, (Y/N). You have no idea how much I needed that right now,” he cleared his throat. “How’s the case going?”

“Nope,” I laughed. “Not going to talk about the case.”

“Really?” He chuckled.

“Yes, Hotch. Take a breather. You deserve it.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, and I could hear his smile through the phone.

We had been talking for about an hour when I heard him yawn.

“Seems you’re getting sleepy there, Hotchner.” I laughed. “We should both get some rest. If it’s 3 am over here it must be 2 am in Washington. So, good night and see you soon.”

“Good night, (Y/N). Again, thank you. Sweet dreams.” And he hung up.

And finally, I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, we were up and ready for business.

“We believe our unsub is already with his next victim,” my father started. “If he matches the patter, she’ll be a successful woman, probably brunette, early 30s to mid-40s. She’ll be at home in Nashville’s upper echelon.”

“This means that he fits in,” I explained. “He drives the right car, he wears the right clothes, he’s highly intelligent. He probably comes from a place of status.”

“This guy’s sociable and he’s endearing,” said Morgan. “You would never suspect that this man is capable of murder. But he will do whatever it takes to protect the fantasy that he’s trying to relive.”

“It’s this fantasy which fuels his drive. He’s reliving a romantic evening and recreating it with each of his victims.”

“He most likely had a relationship taken away from him,” Derek crossed his arms. “So, look at men who have lost loved ones or have gone through a messy divorce.”

After finishing with the profile, we set out to establishments that fit the criteria to possibly get a suspect. As we worked, we got a call. Another crime scene, but this one was different.

A male victim. Overkill on the female. Something made him change his M.O.

Out in the garage, Reid and I looked for any sort of clues and I noticed his sight direct to the car. There may be another way we could connect the victims and how the unsub made their way into their homes.

Finally, Garcia had something with the hunch Spencer had figured. She overlaid all the geographical routes the victims had taken against the geo profile to show what we were missing with any paper trail. Although it was not a clear answer, Erika Silverman was the only one that did not fit the extravagant lifestyle and she only went and came from her work or her home. Except on Tuesday, where she went to the Botanical Gardens, what was she doing there? JJ, Reid, and I left for the gardens to find out.

And just as we had suspected, there had been an event to which Erika had attended. And a puzzle piece revealed itself.

“An event up here would be a hard sell for women in heels,” JJ commented.

“Well, most of our private events hire valets to drive the cars down to the base of the park so they don’t have to hike it up the hill.”

“Who had access to your keys but goes unseen?” Reid asked.

“And to your GPS,” I added.

“Dealerships program your home address into the navigation system before your car even leaves the lot.”

“He had turn-by-turn directions straight to her front door and the keys to get him inside,” I pointed.

We now had how he got his victims and how he entered their house without force. Now, all we had to do was pinpoint his next victim and see who he was.

JJ was instructed to get dad and Prentiss to pick up the owner of the valet service used in the event, and Derek, Reid, and I stayed behind to canvass the employees. We could catch this guy in action unless he had already gotten his next victim.

Joe Belser. That was our unsub. With the profile, the owner was able to point out the suspect quickly. And off we were.

JJ, Reid, and I headed to the venue and the rest of the team went to Belser’s house. He wasn’t in the apartment, but they had found the meaning behind the roses and universal garage door openers. In the venue, Reid called Garcia to see which of the VIP guests could be the next potential victim.

Ann Herron was the next victim, and he was already at her house.

“FBI! PUT IT DOWN!” Derek screamed, blinding Joe with his flashlight. I walked in from behind Derek and kneed Belser’s stomach. He fell to the ground groaning and Emily grabbed the man by the throat to immobilize him.

“Fantasy’s over,” she spat. “Is that what you did to them? You hit them to shut them up and then forced them to play along with your sick delusion?”

“I love them,” Joe said sinisterly.

“You’re finally gonna meet your soulmate, Joe,” I added from behind Prentiss. “In prison.”

“Only you’re not gonna be able to push him around like you did those women,” Emily continued. “And when he comes for you in the middle of the night, when you’re least expecting it, you do me a favor. Play along.”

She stood the man up forcibly and put him in handcuffs and I went outside to check on the victim.

“How is she?” Derek asked walking out of the house with my father.

“She’s strong,” I said closing the ambulance door. “She’ll make it. But you don’t survive something like that without scars.”

“Scars remind us where we’ve been,” my father commented. “They don’t have to dictate where we’re going.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my head as we walked back to the SUVs, finally on our way home.

The next day, I called up my dad so he would accompany me to Haley’s grave. Something told me I had to go. At the cemetery, I saw what the pull was. Sitting in front of the headstone less grave was Hotch. I walked up to him first, my father close behind. Hotch lifted his head and stared into my eyes, sitting up slightly.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” I spoke softly. “Have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?” He mused.

“That you’re coming back to the team,” my father joined his left side. Hotch looked at him. “That fighting the bad guys is who you are.”

Hotch lowered his head and shook it. “I don’t have to tell her. She already knows.”

I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and gave him a soft smile. My father did the same and walked to my side, so we’d retreat, giving Hotch some space.

“So, do you want me to drive you back to your house?” My father asked.

“No,” I smiled. “I’m gonna stay with Hotch for a bit and then I’ll go home.”

“Okay, darling.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll pick you up on Monday then. Ciao, Mia Bella.”

“Bye, dad.”

Once my dad left, I sat down on a bench and waited for Hotch.

“(Y/N), you’re still here?” Hotch questioned with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, thought you might want some company.”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled. “I do. Thank you.”

“How about this, we pick up Jack, you guys come over and I crack open a present I had for Jack.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he motioned me to his car. “Let’s go.”

We drove quietly to his apartment, only the low volume of the radio and the sound of our breathing could be heard. It didn’t take long to arrive at the complex, where he opened the car door for me and led me upstairs. Inside apartment #121, was Jessica Brooks, Haley’s sister, and Jack playing a card game.

“(Y/N)!” Jack screamed as soon as I walked through the door, running to give me a hug.

“Hey, buddy!” I hugged back.

“Hotch, you’re back,” she exclaimed. “Good to see you again, (Y/N).”

“Good to see you, too,” I smiled. “How you holding up?”

“As good as I can be.” She answered as she began to gather her things. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye, little guy.”

“Bye, Aunt Jessica.”

“Bye, guys.” She said as she left.

“Hey, little man,” I directed to Jack. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“How about you to pack a go-bag and you and dad come over so we can open a present I have for you?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed as he sped off to his room to pack.

“I think you should go help him,” I smiled at Hotch. “If I have any memory of being a kid, they’re not very good at packing.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Maybe I should.”

I waited for both father and son to pack for the night asking myself why I was putting myself in this position. Growing closer to a man I had a 0% chance with. But I couldn’t help it. All in all, he was my friend, and he needed all the support he could get.

<- Previous | Next->

A/N: if you wish to be tagged for the next parts, please let me know. I’d be happy to. <3

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percydarling · 3 years

Note

Hey there! First off, love what you're doing here, Percy can never have enough defenders. Second, you've mentioned that Arthur takes part in making fun of Percy and I was hoping you could refresh my memory on this? Unfortunately, I don't doubt it happened, but it's been years since I've read the books.

Percy Weasley really does deserve more defenders. Too many people hating on him amd trying to defend Deatheaters actions.

So yes Arthur. The thing is it's been a while since I read the books myself but I did manage to find one quote from the book.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Percy curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them-"

"-for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

Everyone except for Mrs Weasley and Percy laughed.

-Harry Potter, #3

So Percy asks a question everyone wants to ask and he is made fun of. Of course he's made fun of. He could say Hi and he would be made fun of. And there are readers out there who find it funny. I don't get the joke here. Please explain?

So coming back to the Arthur thing, I'm pretty sure there are some more examples but I can't find them. But the example above is still valid as to why I feel a bit salty towards Arthur.

I believe that as a parent you shouldn't laugh when someone insults your child. It's okay when siblings do it (sometimes and not very offensive like the twins) but a parent laughing at an insult specifically aimed at their child which belittles them and their position or passion or interests?

Sorry that's just not a good parent and the fact that Arthur laughs at Percy in front of everyone including Harry just seems to make it a million times worse than before.

And after the fight Arthur cannot talk to his son? There was something either Ron or the twins told Harry that whenever Percy's name is mentioned Arthur breaks whatever is in his hand.

I mean if you can't even hear your son's name who you drove away , by implying he would spy on them and then proceed to ignore him at work everyday and refuse to make amends, sseing as you are the full grown adult in this situation?

I'm shocked. The whole time I was reading Ootp I kept wondering when they would mention Percy again or ask him to come home or something but they don't.

They don't even care he's gone. Therefore Percy had every right to leave the family.

Sirius Black did the same thing. Not exactly the same but similar.

From Percy's perspective he has been mocked, humiliated, pranked, insulted by his family several times. Why shouldn't he leave them? Who should he stay for? His older brothers who don't bother? His younger siblings who send him hate mail (twins)? His other younger sibling who insults him frequently and complains about him to his friends regularly (Ron)? His sister who doesn't keep his secret (Penelope) or ignores him completely (Ginny)? His father who thinks he would betray them?

The only person who bothered about him was his mother. But his mother didn't do anything to improve the situation. But she did try so I'll applaud Molly Weasley for that.👏

To add on to the Arthur part, he doesn't apologise. He took part in the fight as well. Continuing on that point why didn't Arthur do something better to support his family? He's stuck in the same department because he loves his job? But he has 8 mouths to feed not including his own? And we've seen how that whole money situation has affected the children. Ron gets everything secondhand and he complained about it the first time he met Harry. The twins get money from Harry to start their shop.

And Arthur was in the Order so he atleast had some idea of what's going on. Percy had none. He was a 16 yr old prefect when his gf got petrified and sister almost died. He was made headboy just when the news that a serial killer is on the loose is announced and dementers are in the school. And a tournament in which his younher brother almost does. AGAIN.

I'm pretty sure he still doesn't know his RAT WAS A DEATHEATER!

When you stop seeing things from Harry's perspective you find that the Weasley family aren't that good in the long run. And they treat Percy badly. They do.

(Exxept for Molly, Bill and Charlie)

#percy weasley #percy weasley deserves better #arthur wealsey critical #ask #thanks for the ask!#i get so angry sometimes

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aaronhotchnersquarterzip · 3 years

Text

Meeting You Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

This is it guys, I’m really proud in general of myself for finishing this and I hope you all enjoyed it as well. When I started this fic I honestly planned for a major character death or something dramatic like that. Never in my wildest dreams did I see this ending. I’m not mad though, I’ve had a rough time lately and this really summed up a lot of my feelings. There are people who will never truly leave your life and that's okay. You just shouldn’t let the thought of them hold you back. This has been my favorite thing to write ever and I want to thank everyone who has supported this and made me feel so good about my writing. I did leave this open ended if I ever did want to continue it but I think I want to write something a bit lighter next. I really hope you all enjoyed this as much as I have and remember to stay safe and drink some water today - Mya

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn’t expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Epilogue

Aaron Hotchner did flip your world upside down. Maybe just not in the way you expected. But in the way you needed. You watched your children chase their father around the backyard. It was nearly below freezing but they were going strong. You made hot chocolate for their impending arrival inside. In the meantime you curled up on the couch with a warm blanket and watched the fire burn. The Christmas tree was lit nicely in the corner of the living room, an abundance of presents spilling out.

You pulled out your phone and scrolled through some old pictures. Baby pictures of your three children. Your wedding, it was a fall wedding. More than you could have ever dreamed of. You also looked at your college graduation pictures. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had surprised you and showed up to commencement. Screaming when you walked across the stage. You should call them soon. Finally, you found the picture you were looking for, you and Aaron at one of Dave’s dinners. It was a candid that Morgan took when you weren’t paying attention. Aaron has his arm around you while you’re talking to JJ about god knows what. It’s your favorite picture, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, you chose to remember nights that those. He changed you for the better, it was only fair you acknowledged that.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your husband and kids ran inside from the cold.

“There’s hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you monsters!” You yelled to them as they rushed to change into warmer clothes.

When they had all settled and had their mugs of hot chocolate, your husband joined you on the couch. Soon followed by your children, two girls and one boy. They quickly turned on a pixar movie and snuggled up to you underneath several blankets. There was nothing you would change about your life. This was exactly where you were meant to be.

By the time the credits rolled to Monsters University all three of them had fallen asleep. You carefully tucked in your youngest daughter, Greer. She was about to turn 2 in the spring. Your surprise baby. You couldn’t have been happier when you found out. Sure the stress of raising three kids got to you sometimes but they reminded you of all the good in the world.

Next was Cheyenne, named after where you met your husband, Noah. You were travelling around the west and made a pit stop in Cheyenne and met the man you were meant to spend forever with. You couldn’t think of a better name for your first daughter, Noah couldn’t have agreed more. She embodied everything good about your husband, his compassion for sure. She was smarter than you by a long shot at just 8 years old.

Finally you came to your oldests room. He had been a welcome surprise just a few months after your wedding. Your not so little boy mirrored you in a way you never thought possible. It scared you at first, everything about being a parent is scary sure, but nobody prepares you for raising your twin. He had your hair and eyes, Noah’s nose, but everything about him was you. His ambition never failed to wow you, he pushed himself to lengths you truly couldn’t believe sometimes. He however, did inherit some of your bad genes though. Sometimes he didn’t know when to stop, when to slow down and enjoy the present. You got better at that with age, you want him to achieve everything he puts his mind to but you need him to see when it’s happening. Not when it’s happened.

You reached down and pushed some of his hair from his face so you could kiss his forehead.

“Goodnight my sweet boy,” you whispered and he snuggled further into his blankets. You smiled softly and walked out quietly. He was already 12, sometimes you couldn't believe that you made it this far. You grew as you moved farther away, you knew that your life belonged out here. Sometimes it’s hard to trust fate but how could you justify meeting Noah and creating your dream life in your new favorite spot in America without believing at least a little bit in fate.

You softly closed your little boy's door and ran your hand over the nameplate crested in the center of the door, Aaron, written in hues of blue.

As you cuddled with your husband while he slowly fell asleep, you reached for your phone and scrolled through an album made just for you and Aaron. Noah may be your future, but Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was the love of your life and you forever had a part of him.

You pulled up his contact for the first time in 18 years and sent him the photo from that dinner at Dave’s a lifetime ago. You wrote a short message,

I forgive you Agent - Y/N

The last thing you expected was a response, especially so quickly. It was a picture that you had posted on social media a few weeks prior, celebrating your 13th wedding anniversary.

I’m happy you found better. What are their names? - Agent

My youngest is Greer, then Cheyenne. - Y/N

You wait a few minutes to respond, you know he read the message prior.

He’s named after the love of my life Aaron - Y/N

He called you then. You moved quickly and quietly from your bed and down into your living room. Answering before the line went dead.

“You were the love of my life too Y/N. I just didn’t know it.”

There you sat, where just hours ago you were wrapped in blankets with your family, you were now transported to your life with Aaron. Staring into the fire with tears in your eyes.

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Aaron, sometimes finding the love of your life doesn't mean spending the rest of your life with them. It means loving them for the rest of your life, even if that means watching them love someone else.”

You could hear him sigh on the other end of the line, “I never stopped loving you. I won’t ever stop loving you Y/N.”

“I will always love you too Aaron. I think I’m happier now than I ever was with you though. JJ told me you got remarried Agent. Congratulations. I’m sure she's perfect for you.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Her name is Beth, Jack loves her too.”

“I miss him. I’m happy he has someone again. You deserve to be happy Aaron. I forgave you days after. Hell hours even. But I knew that we both needed someone who understood us better. We both deserved that.”

Just then you heard a door creak and the sound of feet pattering towards you, “mama,” Aaron’s voice squeaked out.

“Right here, baby. What's wrong?”

“I heard you talking and wanted to talk with you too.” You laughed a little before putting your phone on speaker and introducing your son to Aaron.

“Well alright, but I think you might need to know his name before you talk to him.” Aaron caught your drift, introducing himself through the phone.

“Hi Aaron, I’ve heard all about you. My name is Aaron too and there is nothing I want more than to talk to you.”

Your little boy perked up at the idea that this man had the same name as him, Aaron was a good sport and talked to him for about 20 minutes before your boy was yawning between every word.

“Say goodnight to Aaron buddy,” he murmured out a small goodnight and was helped back into bed.

“He reminds me of you, I’m sure you know that already.”

“Everyone calls him my clone. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but sometimes I look into his eyes and swear I see you looking back at me Aaron. He’s how I imagined our children would turn out. Perfect in every single way.”

“Your husband is very lucky to have you Y/N. I’ll envy him until the end of time.”

You sensed this was the end of the conversation, you subconsciously wanted to never stop talking to him. That part of you that would always yearn for his comfort when you were breaking down in the bathroom or when you were so over the moon about something at work. You wanted to share those moments with him first. I guess some part of you always would.

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N, goodnight”

“Goodnight Agent.”

#epilouge #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch #hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

December 23

A small Christmas gift of Hotch returning to the team

Being home has been a blessing within itself. Retirement has been very kind to Aaron Hotchner. For once, he’s able to find the time to read the books that have been collecting dust since he received them. The bags under his eyes are not, actually, a genetic imperfection but rather a product of just how little sleep he was getting. Now he takes naps and goes to bed at not only a reasonable hour but at the same time everyday. The stability has done wonders for his body.

“Hotch!”

The gifts in his arms are set down, a smile easily finding its way to his lips as he accepts an armful of Penelope Garcia. She’s a colorful blur of flashing lights. There are little decorative balls pressed into his chest as she squeezes him tightly. “Hello, Penelope.”

She pulls away but doesn’t let him go. Her cold hands press to his even colder cheeks, eyes taking in every bit of him she can. It’s very obvious she’s checking for any inclination that he hasn’t been as healthy and well as his letters, phone calls, and texts had promised. Eyes as pleased as his smile, she accepts his current look. Brushing a finger over the light shadow he’s allowed to grow across his face.

“I like this,” she comments with a smirk. “It makes you look distinguished.” With a nod, she adds, “like a sexy professor.”

In the hall, just behind her, Emily chokes on wine. Coughing deep within her chest, her hand over her heart. Straightening out, around residual coughs, she clears her throat. “Dear God,” she mumbles, sighing and sipping at her wine again. “There are so many things I never want to hear again and that has just made the list.” The comment allows a smile to broaden on her lips.

Stepping up, she opens her arms and pulls Hotch down to her. Wrapping both her arms around his neck, she keeps him at her height level. He doesn’t mind. They both turn their bodies into one another, holding on tightly. “I missed you,” she whispers.

He’s had a lot of time to change. His voice is softer, body looser. The words… have still not found him. With Emily, he’s never needed the words. With a simple squeeze of the arms he has looped around her smaller body, they both know he’s returning the sentiment.

Emily can’t let him go without messing with his hair and he can see just how pleased she is that his hair has no gel in it. That it goes right where her fingers manipulate it.

“There he is!”

Both of them look up and at the end of the hall, all the others are gathered. The sentiment of his arrival is mostly swept under the rug from there on out. Morgan pulls him in for a brief hug, accented by a good jostle that Hotch wouldn’t know how to explain other than Morgan just kind of shaking him… lovingly. JJ kisses his cheek and Will shakes his hand. Savannah waves, a squirming Hank in her arms. Dave squeezes the life out of him. Tara shakes his hand and the professionalism of it makes him smile.

Matt Simmons shakes his hand and introduces his wife and motions vaguely at an entire crowd of children. Garcia scowls at him as he speaks to Luke Alvez, as if he’s scorned her (Emily explains that later, Tara helpfully adding in between sips of wine).

Reid… hides from him.

“Where’s Jack?”

He pauses in the hall, eyes tracking Reid as the genius lowers his head and makes his break for the living room. Hotch sighs in defeat but turns to Emily. Here, in the hall, it’s just the two of them but she knows they’re all wondering where Jack is. She’s just the only one brave enough to ask.

“Jessica,” he answers sadly. “She takes him away on the holiday to be with Haley’s family.” Hotch misses his son but Jack deserves a holiday with his family. Not stuck at home with Hotch, where there’s nothing to do. At least with Jessica he’ll be surrounded by cousins and his grandparents. Roy likely doesn’t have too many Christmas’ left. Jack deserves to be there.

Emily frowns, disturbed by the idea of him spending Christmas in his house all by himself. He’s never liked being alone. He’d never admit to that but it’s true. It reminds him too much of when Foyet had attacked him. “So you’re going to spend Christmas alone?” she asks.

He’s turned watching Reid, bothered by his distance. It takes his brain a moment to process her words. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess.” Jack had left him a gift under the tree. Hotch had sworn not to open it until Christmas, they’re supposed to facetime that morning so Jack can watch. Still, that leaves the whole day to do… something.

She comes, glass full from the bar Dave set up in the hall, and stands beside him. Leaning into him, she slips her arm around his back. “He’s missed you,” she tells him. Reid. She can see the tension in him. In both of them, really. “I think he prefers you as a boss.”

Hotch scoffs. Not in disagreeance but in a distinctly “yeah, i could have told you that” kind of way.

She hits him lightly but when she glances up, he’s still smiling. “Stop looking so smug,” she grumbles. As she places her glass to her lips she frowns. “Will you drive me home?”

His smile drops immediately. “Right now?” There’s something about the way he’s willing ot literally drop everything that makes her just a little sad. He’s too good. Even now, when they have gone nearly a year (maybe even two) without seeing one another.

“No,” she clarifies. “I’ve had too much wine,” she shows him her glass. “I just need a ride later.”

He nods his head, turning back to watch the laughter shared so easily with the group gathered in Dave’s living room. “You’re okay?” There are new alignments, he sees. Reid and Luke, even though together once again Reid leans a little more to Morgan. Garcia and Tara get along beautifully. JJ adding along from Will’s side. Emily should be with them.

“The team is…” For a long time, it seemed like life was trying to take stumbling steps backwards. Rocks and cut palms to account for misguided steps. That’s what happens when you’re too busy looking behind, too busy to notice what’s right in your face. Eventually, you fall enough times to learn to stop looking behind you. Maybe it’s faith or luck but closing your eyes, you’ll find there are fewer rocks to work around. That’s what the team had to learn.

To stop looking back.

“We’re okay.”

They are.

“We still miss you, though.”

This time the noise he makes sounds wet, tears in his eyes that he hides with a sip of the alcohol he’s been nursing all afternoon. Neither say much after that. The silence is comfortable. They do what they always do. It’s not that complicated. Watchers watch.

“Will he forgive me for leaving?” Hotch asks softly.

Emily looks up at her friend and then over at the genius in question. Patting his side she reasons, “did you get him that book in the original Russian translation that I told you about?”

He nods;

“I wouldn’t worry too much then.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #penelope garcia

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tagsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

From @Onereyofstarlight

to @godsliltippy

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Jelly smears onto her arm where Gordon grabs her and a ball of wrapping paper and tape is thrust into her hands.

“’t’s for you,” he says, eyes alight as she holds the pink package away from her body.

Penelope stares at him and looks over to her father. Years of etiquette, engrained into her by nurses, nannies and governesses, never prepared her for the clumsy friendship of a five-year-old boy who showed all his teeth when he smiled.

No-one would know if she didn’t thank him. Just the two of them, and she doubts he would even notice.

Her mother would notice. Her dead mother’s presence was everywhere, lurking in the corners of every room and watching Penelope’s every move. Her mother would tell someone and they would tell her father.

Nothing escapes Lord Creighton-Ward, especially not in his own house.

She nods slowly instead, allowing a thin smile to spread across her face.

“Thank you, Gordon.”

There’s dirt on his nose. Her smile falters.

But Gordon is five and starry eyed and in love with the pretty girl who came to play school with his brothers and doesn’t see the lie in her eyes.

He runs back to his mother, heedless of the way Penelope’s eyes follow him.

“Wot’s tha’ milady?”

“Nothing, Parker.”

She means it too.

The gift is never opened, discarded among the steamers and half-eaten plates of food.

Gordon never notices.

***

The next year, he gives her nothing but a cold stare.

***

Time passes and she’s no longer a haughty girl of seven, sulking in the back room of a boring Christmas Eve party, and he’s no longer the kid who follows his brothers like a lost puppy. He bounds first into every room, demanding attention and she can hardly stop herself from giving it to him.

“Hey,” says John, looking slightly affronted at the way her eyes have slipped away from him once again. “You listening to me?”

“Yes.”

She’s lying, and she’s gotten good at that, but John still knows her tells, still knows her.

“Sure.”

It’s hard to hear him over the bright spark of laughter on the other side of the room. Gordon is surrounded, entertaining the small children stuck in the same position she was exactly twelve years ago.

A nudge pulls her from her thoughts and John nods in his direction.

“Talk to him.”

Penelope says nothing and he reads her silence as easily as his mathematical proofs. His mouth twists as he watches her, biting back platitudes that she can’t stand to hear.

“He got you a gift,” John says quietly. His eyes never leave her and she wishes desperately that she could leave. “He spent hours thinking about it, didn’t shut up about it since he drew your–”

“Don’t tell me that.”

His hands rise, open and honest and the words fall heavy between them.

She’d never been more pathetically grateful than when Gordon pulled her name for the annual Christmas round robin. She doesn’t need John to point it out to her.

There’s a dry lump in her throat and it tastes like pity.

Penelope knows she’s being a terrible host, but she allows the silence to stretch between them.

“Do you want another drink?”

She shakes her head, looking very carefully into the flickering flames.

John sighs and collects her glass from the mantle all the same.

“I’ll be back.”

She watches John as he strides across the dance floor, half convinced he’s about to spill the beans to Gordon, but he barely gives him a second glance. Instead, a few short words and a pointed look in her direction sends Virgil her way.

“Penelope, you’re looking wonderful.”

“What did John tell you?”

He grins and offers her his hand.

“Just thought you might appreciate a dance. Take your mind off matters.”

“He told you?”

“Never, our Johnny is a gentleman first. And a dancer last.”

On tiptoes, she spies John over his brother’s shoulder and glares at him as he ducks out of the room.

“One dance then, Mr Tracy.”

“Lady Creighton-Ward.”

In truth, Virgil is a wonderful dancer. They move like starlings in the dusk, mesmerising and perfectly choreographed as the music swells in a familiar beat. It’s easy and joyful, allowing herself to move without thinking while Virgil mutters terribly judgemental comments about the more stuck-up members of her peers.

“Stop it, Virgil,” she whispers, fighting a smile. “It’s not funny.”

He laughs and they dance, allowing the music and conversation to direct their pace and as the song swells, he twirls her, throwing her into a spin with laughter erupting from her lips, and yet it’s Gordon who catches her.

The sound dies and blood rushes to her cheeks. She drops his hand and stares, lips parted, eyes wide.

It’s embarrassing, really.

Virgil has made himself scarce, but her eyes are trained on Gordon alone. In his hands, he holds a present, its yellow bow flopping over like her father’s dog after a long walk, and he smiles, crooked and sweet in its uncertainty.

She can’t bring herself to breathe. His smile falters as his face flushes and he drops his eyes. They stand together and their eyes don’t meet. In one stilted motion, he presses the small box into her palm and turns away.

Their hands never touch, but the gift is still warm. She traces the yellow ribbon as she watches him go.

“Thank you,” she calls out with a rush of courage.

He glances back over his shoulder and shrugs, his smile brilliant between flaming cheeks.

“Welcome, Pen. Happy Christmas.”

And it is.

Later that night, she stares at the neatly wrapped box and turns it over in her hands. She should open it, she knows, but she remembers John telling her how Gordon had agonised over this. He deserves more than a bleary thank you note tainted by exhausted emotion.

She puts the gift aside, ready for Christmas morning when she can take her time.

She wakes up and it’s Christmas Day.

It’s Christmas Day and her father dies.

***

She packs her childhood away and smiles with all the gracious manner he’d always expected of her. People stream through the house; some she hasn’t seen for years and some she’d seen only yesterday. Their comfort is as empty as the house she grew up in.

“We can’t put this off any longer, Penelope.”

Her aunt’s quiet voice breaks through the haze of grief and exhaustion.

“Not yet,” she whispers, watching the door.

“Not even Jeff Tracy can change an international flight plan midcourse. By the time they land, refuel and deal with the bureaucrats in order to get back here, I need to be gone. And you need to be with me.”

She exhales shakily, fighting the tears and tightness in her chest.

“Let me get my things.”

Great Aunt Sylvia nods and Penelope stands. It’s short work but she allows herself to hesitate. She knows what she’s getting into, and there won’t be time for sentimentality in her future. She looks down at the little box she’d placed on her bedside table. She should leave it behind along with her regrets.

She pulls on the ribbon. It’s an impulse and a foolish one, and she can’t stop herself until she holds the gift unwrapped in her hands.

A laugh bubbles out of her, genuine and surprising in the dullness of the day. A pair of door knockers, moulded into the familiar shape of Sherbet, lay gleaming in the tissue paper.

It’s ridiculous and perfect and she can’t help but love it.

“Penelope, dear? No time for dilly-dalliances.”

“I’ll be right down, Aunt Sylvia.”

Penelope collects her things, still biting back a smile. She’ll have them installed while she’s away.

***

Penelope trains in espionage. Gordon joins the military.

She completes her apprenticeship and Jeff Tracy offers her a position. He doesn’t return.

His father dies. She listens, numb, as Scott tries to get through to his superiors. No amount of money or connections will allow Gordon to resurface from his position of deep cover.

Unease settles over the family and no-one asks her to leave the island. So, she stays. She programs her favourite meals into the kitchen computer, hands tools to Brains and tells Parker to look after Mrs Tracy. Her employer is dead, but she’s not sure where else she should be.

Alan follows her around. Virgil sleeps. She doesn’t know what Scott and John are doing, locked away in the study.

Eventually, Gordon comes back. He’s lost his healthy tan and the bags under his eyes look like storm clouds. Still, he laughs as he swings Alan around in a hug, and drags Virgil out of his room, and needles at his other two brothers until they finally tell him the plan moving forward.

International Rescue will continue and Penelope no longer feels like a stranger on the island. The black despair begins to peel back and she can feel the hope and determination they all share.

It’s a gift.

***

He’s bashful.

He’s infuriating.

He’s scared.

He’s ecstatic.

He’s lost.

He’s safe.

His father is alive.

His father is alive and he’s looking at her, joy in his eyes and determination behind his smile.

He slips beneath the cool armour she forged in the wake of her father’s funeral with a kiss.

There’s no time to talk until there is.

He walks his grandmother’s son across the room and turns to her.

He reaches out and she meets him there.

***

It’s a fragile thing between them, still nebulous and undefined. Her breath catches as he slides an arm around her waist and tucks himself against her skin. Great Aunt Sylvia would never approve of such a blatant display. Parker certainly doesn’t.

It’s vulnerable and honest, and so very Gordon, and she tenses as his family’s eyes land on them, bracing herself for the scrutiny to which she’s opening herself. He tugs her close, careless and unrepentant beneath the gentle ribbing and wolf whistles. She can hear the distinct bleep of money being transferred between bank accounts and shoots a glare in Virgil’s direction.

It turns out that no-one finds them very interesting, hardly saying a word and playing with each other’s hands.

He presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, until it spreads into a smile of her own beneath him. Her eyes flutter closed and she moves to clutch at the hand that cups her cheek.

“Hey,” he whispers, mouth against her skin. “Happy Birthday.”

She pulls away and stares.

“I thought you said we would exchange gifts on Christmas. I haven’t wrapped yours yet, you should have told me and–”

“Pen,” he interrupts, laughing a little. “I said ‘Happy Birthday’. It’s not Christmas time just yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

He shrugs as he reaches behind him with a sheepish grin.

“Well, it’s just I know how it is, being born near a holiday. Gotta imagine being born the day before Christmas lends itself to that combined present crap far too easily for people.” He glances down at the parcel, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I know you said you didn’t want a fuss, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you today.”

She loves him. The thought is no longer new or surprising but for the first time she embraces it and allows it to warm her heart instead of squirrelling the idea away in a fit of shame. He thought of her and she loves him and she doesn’t care about presents, not really, but no one had ever thought of her like he does.

He hands her a brightly wrapped parcel and she can’t help the dopey smile that grows as she holds it in her hands.

“Thank you, Gordon,” she says, still staring in delight.

“Well, there’s more where that came from.” It’s a self-conscious laugh, tinged with uncertainty and he can’t help himself and the question spills forth. “You like it?”

“I haven’t opened it yet,” she says with a laugh of her own. “But I already love it.”

He looks entirely too pleased with himself, but she knows how to fix that these days. Leaning forward, she kisses him herself, paying no mind to the rest of the family.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #thunderbirds 2015 #Lady Penelope #Gordon Tracy #Pen and Ink #gordon x penelope

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hayscodings · 3 years

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it’s full-blown depression hours any time i remember that every single aspect of penelope’s personality is informed by the trauma and abuse she endured growing up, and that there is no pre-trauma version of her that exists because her first life event— being given up for adoption— was traumatic in and of itself and then it was all downhill from there, being indoctrinated and abused by the sisters before being sold as a child bride to the blossoms who started grooming her from day one.

the fact that she was never able to escape her abusers and had to become a caretaker to arguably the worst one (i only say arguably because we don’t know anything about rose’s husband) is just the cherry on top of the nightmare sundae like i truly cannot imagine anything more psychologically damaging.

and of course she’s never gotten the professional help she needs, or even had anyone to help her through her pain and severe mental health issues. literally no meaningful relationships, friends or family, outside of the blossoms which has contributed significantly to her inability to grow emotionally and move past their abuse as well as develop healthier coping mechanisms and unlearn all of their toxic beliefs and behaviors.

like she’s always been in the uniquely isolating position of having no one with an outer perspective to tell her how fucked up her family/situation is and alert her to the reality that she deserves better and needs help in order to heal and create a better life for herself. the fact that she was forced to marry clifford, her equally traumatized brother who endured the same abuse and grooming that she did, and had no family of her own, robbed her of that.

there wasn’t a moment in penelope’s upbringing where she wasn’t being brainwashed, exploited, and manipulated by the adults around her, whose intentions were completely self-serving and nefarious. the only person she ever had in her corner was clifford, and he ended up betraying her by killing their son.

her entire existence has been colored by grief and suppression and helplessness and it is so insane to me how the fandom and writers are constantly glossing over this when everything she is is a direct result of these experiences? like she truly never stood a chance growing up alone and vulnerable in such an insular world (this applies to both the soqm and the blossom family) and so to expect her to function as a perfectly rational, well-adjusted adult is just so odd and unfair?

it took her over 30 years just to realize that she needed to stop defending and trying to be accepted by the blossoms even though she was aware of their abuse by the time she was sixteen (though it could have been earlier since she said she ‘quickly realized’ that her adoption had not been altruistic). like, that’s how deep her conditioning runs. that’s what happens when you have no one helping you.

to label her as evil and reduce her to her worst moments is so dismissive of everything she has been through and the little progress she has made (which shows potential). she makes a lot of poor choices and her way of going about things is certainly often wrong, yes, but that is entirely attributable to the trauma and abuse she has suffered (and the poor coping skills/behaviors she’s developed because of it) as opposed to an indication that she’s inherently a bad person. that is just not consistent with the narrative we’ve been given.

there’s a difference between making bad choices because you don’t care about the consequences and making bad choices because they’re all you know and you don’t foresee their negative consequences/understand the effect that they will have. it’s important to remember that penelope grew up being controlled and under someone else’s thumb since she was a baby. she was never allowed to make her own choices because her entire future was mapped out for her by the blossoms.

the college she went to? the lack of a career? the decision to get married? the person she married? the decision to have children? the place she lived? none of them were hers. no personal autonomy was ever afforded to her. you cannot expect her to make good choices when she wasn't even able to make her own choices until she was well into adulthood. and by then, any choices she made would inevitably be informed by her trauma (not to mention influenced by her abusers, since she never escaped them).

she has never been in an environment conducive to growing and healing, and the lack of assistance and support from any friends or family has not helped. but she has shown good intentions and an ability to listen and recognize when she has gone about something in the wrong way time and time again. she is not hopeless. her scene in 5x03 set the stage for so much growth, and i really hope the writers deliver on it because there has always been a great deal of potential with her character and it would be so satisfying to see her finally be able to break the cycle and make a better life for herself.

#this got away from me i just had a lot on my mind....#riverdale #penelope blossom #riverparents #parentdale #riverdale text #riverdale ramble

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sea-owl · 1 year

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I like how Bridgerton not only shows the love story between the couples but also the love story the leads have with themselves as they learn to self-love.

For some of the leads, it's more subtle than it is for their partner, like with saphne and philoise. Simon is the more obvious one since we see how his relationship with his father caused his self-loathing and wanting to end the Basset line. Same thing with Phillip, the trauma of his father, losing his brother, and his first marriage lead to this self-hatred he has that leads to his decision that the children are better off with him absent and his second marriage would be another marriage of duty. With Daphne, I think it shows more in the books since she was on her second or third season and no one wanted her for a wife but as a friend, or those that did made her uncomfortable. Then her marriage comes, but in some ways, she's still being treated with kid gloves, which frustrates her. Eloise is very subtle with hers, but she is mostly in a good place. She just needs a few tune ups.

Benophie and polin are a little more evened out when watching their self-love stories. Both Benedict and Colin are rooted in their purpose beyond being second and third sons. Sophie and Penelope are both learning to self-love beyond what society has done to them. With Sophie, she is a bastard daughter. She was never going to be given a fair chance in life. Lords barely like/tolerate their legitimate daughters. She had no chance. Penelope, with her job as Whistledown, heard all the whispers and gossip, which included ones about herself. As herself, she was only shown kindness from the Bridgertons, her best friend's family,and she believed it came from a place of pity.

Kathony is another one that really dives into self-love as well, especially with the show, Anthony has put his duty as head of the family first ever since he was 18 when Edmund died. This sense of duty went even as far as to his hunt for a viscountess. He was looking to continue on the Bridgerton line, not love. Meanwhile, Kate has always been seen lesser when compared to Edwina that she wasn't even looking for prospects for herself, which the show really hit home on by making Kate a spinster. She is also putting her familial duty first. This is why they aggravated each other so much, they were each what the other subconsciously wanted. Neither of them wanted to admit wanting love, they did not want to be vulnerable, and in a way, they did not believe they deserved to put their happiness and chance for love first.

I love seeing it in their stories where they have their breakthrough moments where they decide that no, I did not deserve that, I am more than what you made me believe, and I may not he there yet but I am going down the road where I will love myself.

#bridgerton #self love #love story with myself #simon basset #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #kate sheffield #kate sharma #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #phillip crane #kathony #benophie #polin #saphne #philoise

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hotchley · 3 years

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and he will come back home

because these people are his family. and this place is his home.

or, six times out of many aaron hotchner realised that other things may change us but we do indeed, start and end with our family because they are the people that love us, without any conditions, and not in spite of, but because of, our flaws.

this is literally pure fluff because someone *ahem* @whump-town *ahem* has been posting sad things which made me want to write something sweet.

nobody asked for this. literally nobody. however, it made me happy, so now everyone else has to put up with it.

trigger warnings: references to child abuse (physical and sexual) as both hotch and morgan’s pasts are mentioned very briefly

read on ao3!

1. Jennifer

“Eat.”

Hotch looked up from his paperwork in surprise. JJ was stood in front of his desk, hands on her hips, somehow managing to intently stare both at him and the plate she’d put down in front of his name plate.

He hadn’t even heard her come in. But the door had been open, and the unspoken rule was that, unless his door was closed, nobody in the team needed to announce themselves. JJ and Dave were the only ones to actually follow that rule, everyone else knocking first. He used to think it was because he was unapproachable, but now he knew better. It was just what they preferred to do, just in case they were intruding.

Instead of taking the plate, he looked down at his watch. Time had gotten away from him, and he hadn’t eaten in about five hours, or however long it had been since him and Jack had eaten breakfast. In fact, Jack was probably the only reason he remembered. Because children copied their parents, and he couldn’t exactly tell Jack to eat his cereal if all he was doing was sipping some coffee.

In his defence, skipping lunch had not been the plan. There was just so much paperwork, and Strauss had needed to meet with him, and then there was the budget reports- and okay, maybe he had been intending to work through lunch. Sue him. He’d been feeling nauseous for days now, and he had no idea why. What he did know, was that eating made it worse. So did not eating, but still.

It was worse when he ate.

“JJ, I have all this paperwork,” he said.

“I know. Which is why you need to eat.”

He stared at her. She simply smiled and pushed the plate towards him. He actually looked at it now.

“That is-”

“A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Yes. One of the few things you can stomach when you’re feeling sick.”

“How did you even?”

“I love you.” And it was the way that she said the words, so easily, without any hesitation or expectation attached that made him pick up the sandwich. He thought she would stay, at least until he’d taken the first few bites, but instead she stood, smiled and left.

He tried not to let it sting. She had a job to do as well.

But she came back, holding her own sandwich. “I know you hate eating alone. I just wasn’t about to come in here with my own lunch, or else you’d just watch me eat.”

She sat down in the chair opposite him and immediately took the pile of files that needed to be completed from him. As she bit into her sandwich, crumbs dropping onto her skirt, she started flicking through them. Hotch made a faint noise of protest. JJ just gave him the same look she gave her son when he wouldn’t go to sleep.

Aaron ate his sandwich.

“Let’s see. Morgan’s. Emily’s. Morgan again. And again. That’s Dave’s. Me and Garcia told Strauss the system crashed so technically, you don’t have the figures for that, which means I can just,” she throw that folder in the bin.

The next few minutes passed in a similar way. By the time she was done sorting, his pile was reduced to two files, both of which would be done by two. Which meant he could go pick up Jack.

“Thanks JJ,” he said. Not just for the sandwich, or for the files. For everything.

She smiled. “It’s not a problem.”

For once, he believed her.

2. Spencer

It had been a while since Hotch had done a custodial interview with Reid. After the whole Chester Hardwick incident, he tended to send Reid with Morgan. Or Prentiss. Or anyone that wasn’t him. One time, to give Anderson some more experience, the two of them had gone together.

He had no idea what had happened, but he never got the reports from either of them. And when he logged onto the database to see if they had gone to Rossi, or even Garcia for convenience, there was no evidence of the trip ever occurring. And that was when he decided that he didn’t want to know.

But that was irrelevant to their current situation. His ear was hurting. Reid had offered to drive them back because Hotch had done the drive there. Under normal circumstances, Hotch would have rather sat in a car with Morgan during the hunt for an unsub than let Reid drive. However, if anyone was going to cause an accident right now, it was him.

The ringing in his ears had only gotten worse as their prisoner had refused to talk. The lack of noise had made it the only thing he could focus on. And now, in the car, they were sat in silence. Reid was narrowing his eyes at other cars, being ever so cautious with the gas, focusing intently. And Hotch was glad that he wasn’t getting distracted, but he really needed to hear something.

He could also feel himself drifting off, Reid’s speed and the movement of the car soothing, especially given that normally it was him that needed to pay attention to the road. But every time he thought he was about to fall asleep, the piercing sound would get worse. And he would jolt, now fully awake.

Until he just didn’t.

When he woke up, he was confused. The surroundings had completely changed. And the radio was on. Some classical music he didn’t know the name of, but he had memories of dancing with Penelope at one of the FBI functions with that playing in the background. The thought made him smile.

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and turned to face Reid. “Where are we?”

“I took a slight detour because you finally looked peaceful. Also, is the music okay? Lots of studies show that for people with hearing problems, having something soft play in the background helps them sleep. I don’t know what you think about classical music, but something called WAP, maybe? just did not seem like your thing.”

Hotch smiled. “Spencer, it’s fine. It’s perfect actually.”

Reid grinned back at him. “Good. Also when I took us on a detour, I got a bit lost so we’re now an hour away from Quantico.”

Hotch shook his head, fondly, but rested his head against the window once more, letting the soft piano and violin soothe him to sleep again, feeling completely and utterly safe.

3. Emily

“I can do it,” Emily said, poking her head through the door.

Hotch jumped in his chair, rolling his eyes when he realised it was just her, almost giving him a heart attack. Again. Probably for the thirtieth time that week. Dave, who was sat opposite him, just smirked, head resting on his cheek and Aaron silently cursed him. He must have known.

“Emily. How long have you been standing there?” he asked.

She smiled. “Long enough to know that you have a meeting with Strauss but Jack needs picking up from school because at four he’s going to the dentist. Which is why I’m saying that I can do it.”

Dave stood. “I’m going to take this as my cue to leave.”

Hotch watched as he left and Emily took his seat.

“Emily,” he said with a sigh.

“Aaron,” she responded, mocking his tone.

“It’s unfair to ask you to do that,” he said. What he meant was that he didn’t want to inconvenience her or her plans because he couldn’t get his dates straight, and that he should just cancel his meeting because fuck Strauss.

“These things happen. And Strauss will behead you if you miss this meeting. Jack and I will be fine. And besides, would you really deprive him of time with his favourite aunt?”

Damn Emily Prentiss and her ability to always know what he was thinking. “Em, I know you love Jack. And he loves you, but I still can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And even if you say no, I’ll still turn up. I’m on the list of approved people, they won’t stop me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

And four hours later, Jack walked through the steps of the BAU, with an unusually wide grin for somebody that had just gone to the dentist. Emily was smirking.

“You didn’t,” were the first words out of Hotch’s mouth. Jack ran towards his dad and Hotch crouched down to high-five him. He winced when he realised he now had sticky hands.

“He deserved a treat for his perfect teeth,” Emily said.

“Yeah! Auntie Emmy said that you would understand and she got you a surprise because she knew that would make you more happy,” Jack said, grinning.

Hotch looked up at Emily, who sheepishly held out a cupcake. He smiled at her. She relaxed.

Uncle Spencer was showing Jack a magic trick when he went over to her.

“You’re amazing with him,” he whispered.

She shrugged. “I just do the things that feel right.”

“That’s all any of us can do. But I do enjoy it when the two of you spend time together. It makes you smile.”

“It’s funny, because I think the same thing about you. You look happier with him.”

“You make me smile as well. You all do. I just- I never know how to say it.”

“But you don’t need to. We know you love us. It shows in everything you do. And we love you too.”

Hotch turned to watch his son laugh and smile with the rest of his aunts and uncles. They all looked so innocent. So happy. So beautiful.

“Yeah. I know that.”

4. Derek

“Is everyone else asleep?” Morgan asked as he sat opposite Hotch.

The case had been a long one, and they had only departed a half-hour ago, meaning they wouldn’t be landing till the early hours of the morning. Reid had, like with most cases, taken the couch. JJ and Emily were sharing a blanket, JJ resting her head on Emily’s shoulder and Dave was sat opposite them. Everyone’s eyes were closed. But with profilers, there were no guarantees.

“I think so. Why?”

“Because I’m about to ask you something that I don’t want everyone else hearing,” Derek said. Hotch closed the file and stared intently.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you decorated the apartment yet?”

Hotch closed his eyes. He hadn’t, but he kept meaning to. Jack’s room at the house had been completely to his taste, with superheroes plastered over every available service and stars stuck on the ceiling to help him sleep at night.

The whole house had been more homely than the apartment currently was. And Hotch had been planning to decorate ever since Haley passed away because that was Jack’s home now, it needed to look like one. But life had gotten in the way.

And every time he looked at a magazine, or went shopping, he just got completely overwhelmed. When him and Haley had moved into the house, he’d let her take over the decorating. And when he bought his apartment, the concern had been having it be equidistance from there and work. Not how it looked.

Obviously, that had now all changed.

“I don’t want to offend you, I just wanted to know,” Derek said, taking the silence as offence.

“You’re not offending me. And no I haven’t.” Hotch sighed. Morgan leant back, giving him the space to either speak or change the subject. “I do want to,” he continued. “I just- I get overwhelmed. And I don’t know how much choice Jack should have, you know?”

“I get it. What are you doing tomorrow?”

If it was Dave, Aaron would have lied. But it wasn’t.

“Nothing, if I’m being completely honest. I may take Jack to the library and the park but aside from that…”

“Let me take you shopping. I’ve seen your apartment, I know the layout. I’ll tell you what would work best in the area and you can say yes, no or maybe. If you don’t find anything, that’s fine, but at least you can get some ideas.”

Hotch smiled. “You’d really do that for me?”

Morgan nodded. “Course. I know what I said when Strauss suspended you, but I do like you.”

“Well I would hope so after all the times I’ve saved your ass,” Hotch joked, setting the paperwork aside. The unsub was going to prison for a long time, it could wait.

Morgan’s taste was impeccable, and by the end of their shopping trip, they had purchased more decorative items than Hotch could carry. Luckily, Jack was okay with carrying the bag of wall stickers up, and he was content to babble on about everything he was going to do. Hotch had asked Morgan to stay for dinner, Jack making it impossible for him to leave.

When it got to Jack’s bedtime, he asked Morgan for a hug. Morgan bent down and embraced the kid, making eye contact with Hotch. Aaron knew what he was trying to say: neither of them would ever be capable of harming a child the way they had been.

“See you in the morning Hotch,” Morgan said, holding his hand out.

Hotch thought screw it and hugged him.

“Oh!” Morgan said with a laugh. “This is nice.”

Hotch pulled back with a smile. “Yeah. It is.”

5. Dave

When Hotch had first joined the unit, Dave learnt several things about him. One was that he wore the same suits pretty much all the time, the only difference being his tie. Two being that he hated lemon flavoured desserts with a passion, and if you injected enough morphine into him, he would tell you his literal court case for banning it.

The third, and arguably most important, was that every April, without fail, something would happen, and he would end up sick. One year it was learning he was allergic to shellfish. Another year it was chicken pox- which had been great. The year before he retired, Hotch had slipped down a hill and landed in poison ivy.

It had not been pleasant for anyone involved, even if secretly it had been hilarious to watch Hotch be forced to stay in the hotel because they didn’t know if he would pass it onto someone else.

This year, it seemed like it was the flu. When Dave answered the phone, Aaron had not sounded great. Now they were sharing a hotel room, and every few minutes, he would start coughing. It wouldn’t be a coughing fit, nor was it really enough to class him as ill, but Dave knew it was just the start.

He’d never been so glad that he had remembered to pack coughs syrup and various other medications. However, if he tried to help now, Aaron would probably do something stupid, like claim he would be fine because he did this every year, and every year he ended up not being fine.

The next day, it was clear he was unwell. He kept pressing one hand to his ear, his eyes were watery and there was a rather mortifying moment where his voice just went in the middle of his bad cop routine. Luckily, Emily was able to keep a straight face, but everyone else started giggling.

As soon as Hotch was out of the interrogation, Dave held up the cough syrup and car keys.

“You’re going to take this, and then I’m going to drive you back to the hotel. Then you’re going to get that jumper you technically stole from me, put it on and sleep. You’re not to come back till this flu passes.”

“Dave,” Hotch protested. That was the thing about him. He would be completely fine most of the time, but the moment he showed even the slightest symptom of sickness, it was only a matter of twenty-four hours before he completely shut down.

“Don’t make me phone Jessica,” Dave warned.

Hotch rolled his eyes, too tired to properly argue. A nap did sound good.

“Open up,” Dave said.

“I can give myself cough syrup,” Hotch said. However, that required him opening his mouth, so Dave just shoved the spoon in with a smirk.

It ended up knocking him out. Cough syrup always did. Dave smirked, took a quick picture and sent it to Garcia. It would be a cute surprise when Christmas came around.

Hotch was conscious enough to change into the jumper Dave had let him wear once- Hotch had been an idiot and not packed a single item of knitwear, which had led to Dave just sighing and passing his own jumper on, and then never getting it back- and the pyjama bottoms that were so worn, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had them since he joined.

“You’re really nice to me Dave,” Hotch mumbled, voice muffled by the hotel pillows.

Dave brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him softly. He felt far too warm already. But it was fine. Hotch would complain, JJ would stare and he would obey the orders he’d been given.

“Get some rest kiddo,” Dave said, switching the lamp on and closing the curtains.

By the time they were flying back to Quantico, Aaron was fine. Dave was more than a little smug about that- not that he would ever take credit for his recovery, or anything like that. Nope. That was not who he was.

6. Penelope

Hotch loved all of his team. How could he not? They were his family. No, more than that. They were his chosen family.

But there was something about Penelope Garcia that he just loved even more. It wasn’t that she was his favourite, that was a bad way of wording it, but he was in awe of her entire being. The confidence with which she wore the clothes that made her feel beautiful, because screw the FBI clothing regulations, never failed to make him smile.

Her flirty comments- whether they were aimed at him or someone else- always made the colour rise in his cheeks. He had been raised in the south, where holding hands without a marriage proposal was seen as scandalous- and okay that was an exaggeration, but the point still stood. It kept them all of their toes.

But more than all of that, it was her complete and utter faith in humanity that made him love her in a different way to the rest of the team. She was always so good, and so kind and so loving. They had all seen what the world did to the people that saw beauty. Hell, she’d been on the receiving end of it all. And yet somehow, she never wavered. Even when she was upset, she managed to find the joy.

Garcia loved her boss as well. Not in a weird, forbidden romance way. Just as a best friend. He was always so sweet to her. And everyone else. He did everything he could to get her systems upgraded, always apologising when he couldn’t. Sometimes, when she needed a break from the screens and her bunker, she would just sit in his office, admiring various things.

She still couldn’t understand how he didn’t even know what half the certificates he had were for.

Garcia had spent a decent amount of time in Hotch’s office. And it just always seemed a bit boring. He kept a photo of the team in his desk drawer, alongside a bottle of wine that Rossi had told him to hide- if Strauss ever asked, nobody had even heard of alcohol- but it wasn’t very welcoming.

Hotch was welcoming. She never had any trouble going into the office when he was there. But aside from the heavy books to do with the law on the bookshelf behind him- you could take him out of the prosecutor’s office, but you could never truly get rid of the prosecutor within him- and the photo of Jack on his desk, it wasn’t him.

She hated having to grab things when he wasn’t there.

It became her mission to find a way to get it decorated. But she just never knew what to do, and she wasn’t about to tell the team. This was her special mission.

The team were coming back from a difficult case. JJ had warned her that Hotch had taken it particularly hard, so to maybe tone down whatever surprises she had planned. Garcia had put the brownies she’d made into the fridge. Damn profilers and their stupid abilities that meant they always knew when something was going on.

She was sat in Hotch’s office, just waiting for him to enter.

When he did, she stood up.

“Sir.”

He jumped. “Garcia.”

“I have something for you. It’s for your office.”

He raised an eyebrow, and suddenly, it felt like a terrible idea. She glanced round the office, at it’s neutral walls, the desk, devoid of anything put his pen pot and nameplate, the chairs that didn’t even have patterned cushions. Even the spare blanket he kept in there was plain.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be for your office, you could always put it in your bedroom. Actually, that’d probably be weird too. If you hate it, just say and I can always return it or you could give to Jack. I bet Jack would like it. If you don’t. If you do-”

“Penelope, I’m sure it’s beautiful,” he said, with the broad smile he only ever used with her.

“Right. Well, here you go.”

She held out the bag. He opened it.

“It’s a plushie.”

“Not just any plushie. It’s a beanie baby. And it’s called Bandito. I picked it because it’s got the same birthday of you. See look at the tag. Also it’s a raccoon. I don’t know if you realised that. I get now that it may be a bit weird. It’s just I was thinking about how impersonal your office is- not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just thought that maybe, it would be nice.”

When he looked at her, she could’ve sworn there were tears in his eyes.

“Penelope, I love it. I- nobody has ever put that much thought into buying me a plushie before. I mean, nobody ever really bought me soft toys. Thank you.”

She grinned. “Don’t thank me, you deserve it. So can I hug you? This feels like a huggy moment.”

He nodded, a little hesitant. She hugged him, pretending to not notice when she felt the sleeve of her cardigan dampen slightly.

When he pulled away, she held onto his hand for a few more seconds before letting go. He put the raccoon next to his pen pot, where anyone walking past or in would see it.

“It looks perfect,” he said.

Strauss tried to make a snide comment about it the next time they had a meeting. Hotch retaliated by buying one that had the same birthday as Garcia. And by the end of the year his office had one matching up with Jack, Sean, Jessica and Haley- all in various places.

He kept the ones corresponding with the team on his desk. Because they were his family. And every time he sat down at his desk, he would be reminded that he was home.

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alaffy · 3 years

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Bridgerton ep.4 – An Affair of Honor

I’m now halfway through the series and, so far, it’s been a joy. Yes, the plots are a bit predictable in places. But the dialogue is witty and the actors are great. I can’t wait to see where the story goes next. I also liked the fact that they do, at least, touch on how their society became as it was. Yes, one could argue the reason is simplistic in nature (the king falls in love and suddenly the color of ones skin no longer matters). I understand that this is more of a light drama in nature, a bit fairytale-ish, but I do hope they deal with this a little more then just a one off scene.

Well, Daphne seems to be moving on to the Prince, but her heart still belongs to the Duke. Eloise has decided she’s going to find out who Lady Whistledown is and gets a lesson in real life. Benedict finds people who are more like himself. Marina takes her destiny in hand, but does it in such a way that hurts Penelope. And Lady Bridgerton learns a lot about her children at a ball.

As the main part of this story happens at the ball, I think I’ll just skip to that night. Daphne is getting ready for the ball, when Lady Bridgerton comes in her room. Lady Bridgerton is confused as to why Daphne is no longer interested in the Duke. Daphne, upset, takes it (sort of) out on her mother, by letting her know of the plan between the Duke and herself.

The Duke, meanwhile, is getting ready to leave England. But then, he spots the painting of his mother’s that Daphne explained to him. So the Duke (of course) decides he has to go to the ball to tell Daphne goodbye (and we all know this will go well).

During the ball, Eloise decides to snoop around the servants room, thinking that one of them might Lady Whistledown. She’s caught by the main housekeeper, who proceeds to make it very clear how stupid an idea that was. Not only do they not have the time, who the hell would stay in service making the money that Lady Whistledown makes?

Marina, meanwhile, is being presented like a trophy to a much older man in order to marry her off. But she is rescued by Colin Bridgerton, who whisks her away on the dance floor. Marina comes up with an idea. She’s going to marry Colin!

Lady Bridgerton, around this same time, is trying to get her eldest son Anthony interested in perspective marriage matches. But, unfortunately for her, who should be singing at the ball, but the actress Anthony has fallen in love with. Lady Bridgerton, as she’s no fool, realizes what’s going on and decides that the best thing she can do that evening is get drunk.

The Prince is about to propose to Daphne, but Daphne has spotted the Duke and runs away before the Prince pops the question. Daphne goes outside (mistake one) and Simon follows her (mistake two). When Simon cannot say what Daphne truly wants to hear, she goes running into a hedge maze and Simon follows (seriously?!). Now, I honestly thought we would have a scene where they would argue some more and someone would walk into the maze and think they were doing something “improper.” Nope. They actually do something that would be considered “improper” and they are caught by her brother. He demands Simon marry Daphne, but Simon refuses, shocking the hell out of Daphne. So, the two men agree the only logical thing to do is…pistols at dawn (you know, it’s amazing the human race has lasted so long).

Daphne, in a daze, is escorted back to the ball. At the time, Cressida Cowper (a woman after the Prince), makes a comment about Daphne getting a chill in the garden. Anyway, everyone leaves the ball. Marina tells Penelope about her plan to marry Collin, but in her own excitement she fails to realize that Penelope is clearly in love with Collin. Penelope takes out her pain on Eloise, who had come by to talk about Lady Whistledown.

Meanwhile, Anthony tells Benedict and Collin about the duel. Anthony also realizes that, if he wins the duel, he will have to leave the country. He then goes to the singer he loves to tell her that they may have a chance together (bit premature there buddy). Dawn approaches and Daphne finally realizes what Cressida said and, more importantly, realizes she must have seen her and the Duke together. Daphne races off with Collin to stop the duel and she does so…by riding into the middle of it (what?) Anyway, she tells Simon that he must marry her because Cressida saw them and she will be ruined. Simon, really failing to understand their whole society, still refuses because he will not give her children (which she wants) and she deserves the world (maybe, but you kinda helped make sure that won’t happen). The duel is set to begin again, when Daphne makes it clear: they will marry.

I understand Simon’s reluctance, but dude, you need to wake up. Again, this is a situation that is disgusting and completely unfair, but the reality is she will be judged more harshly in society then him. Whatever future he think she deserves, she can’t have that now. Not in this society. She is recognizing her part in this, and accepting what she needs to sacrifice to deal with this situation, Simon needs to do the same.

#Bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #simon basset #anthony bridgerton #marina thompson #eloise bridgerton #episode thoughts

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chikoriita · 3 years

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Single Father Seeking Sane Step-Mama Pt. 2

As the hour grew closer to tea time, Eloise strategically chose her seat in the drawing-room. Though not nearly as big as Bridgerton House, afternoon tea at Number Five drew plenty of visitors. With Colin recently returned to town and her mother’s birthday celebration coming up, Bridgertons of all ages flocked to tea. Hence, if Eloise wanted to make her own guests welcome, she needed to make ample space for them.

Amanda and Oliver would fit in with the gaggle of nieces and nephews that accompanied their mothers to tea. Between Daphne, Kate, and Sophie, at least one child of similar age would arrive. If not, Violet always had a marvelous spread. That is if Colin left any for the rest of the family.

No, it was their father Eloise worried about. Would he feel uncomfortable in the midst of all the Bridgertons? Frannie might not come, but Hyacinth was a force of nature in herself. Would he take them up on her spur of the moment offer? What if all her preparations were for naught?

Settled into the armchair by the window, Eloise kept a wary eye on the gate. She did not want to miss them.

“You are here quite early for tea, Eloise.” Daphne strolled in with her two eldest children in tow. “Usually Hyacinth has to bellow for you to “make haste.” Her elder sister gave her a sly smile as she settled on the sofa. Ambrose and Belinda found some sort of entertainment on the other side of the drawing-room.

Eloise made a face. Of course, she would remember something she did at seventeen years old. “You, dear sister, were about to be late for your own presentation. Hyacinth only has to shout if I am in the middle of writing something. They are completely different subjects.”

Daphne laughed. “So you say.”

“Oh good, you brought the older children today.” Eloise did a little clap of excitement.

Her sister furrowed her brow. “Yes, Caroline and Davina had an art lesson this afternoon. Why is it good?”

She leaned close. “The townhome next door was rented out for the Season. I encountered the children as they were moving in today, and invited them to tea.” Reclining once again, Eloise peeked outside to see if anyone else was arriving.

Daphne hummed. “I wonder who they are.”

“I’ve never met them before. The children gave the last name Crane. I have yet to meet their father.”

“Whose father?” Violet asked as two footmen trailed her with a cart full of pastries.

“Mama, does the name Crane ring a bell? I feel like I know someone with the surname, but I cannot place it,” Daphne pondered.

Violet shook her head. “No, dearest. I cannot either.”

Hyacinth bounded into the room with none of the delicacies of a proper debutante. “Are we discussing the new neighbors? Eloise should know all about them.” She smirked. “She’s the one who met the children today.”

“How did you-”

“I was in your room.”

“Mama!”

“Hyacinth,” her mother warned.

She shrugged. “Eloise has the best view of the street. If anyone wants to learn anything, it’s the best place to start.”

“Stay out of my room,” Eloise hissed. Hyacinth stuck her tongue out at her. Violet glared at them both.

Wickham arrived at the door. “A Sir Phillip Crane has arrived for Miss Bridgerton.” He gestured to the Crane family.

“Sir Phillip?” Daphne murmured as they all stood to greet the Cranes.

“I did not know either,” Eloise mumbled in return.

“Sir Phillip, what a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to our home,” Violet warmly said. Ever the gracious hostess, she did not miss a beat. “Thank you for accepting Eloise’s invitation. I am the Dowager Lady Bridgerton, but you may call me Violet.” She held out a welcoming hand.

“It is a pleasure, Lady Bridgerton.” He bowed over her hand. “May I introduce my children?”

Eloise would have glanced behind him to find the twins. However, she could not move past him. Meeting in person confirmed that her initial observation was true. He was large, and it suited him. Sir Phillip. A strong and sturdy name meant for someone such as him.

“Miss Eloise!” Amanda’s voice pulled her out of her reverie. “Are you glad we came?” The adoration in the little girl before her humbled Eloise more than she expected.

“I am,” she softly said. “Let me introduce you both to my niece and nephew.” She held her hands out. It surprised her how well their hands fit in her own.

So these were the Bridgertons, Phillip thought. He felt awkward in a room full of such beautiful people. Lady Bridgerton made the introductions as Eloise took his children away. Besides herself and Eloise, the other two ladies were her daughters as well. “This is Hyacinth, my youngest, and my eldest daughter, Daphne, the Duchess of Hastings.”

“Your Grace.” He bowed once more. He may be rusty, but from what little he knew, a Duchess deserved at least that.

“Oh, we do not stand for such formality in the Bridgerton household. Please call me Daphne.” She steered him toward a long sofa. “We may still have stragglers. Let us chat.”

Phillip held back a gulp. “Are more guests expected?” Should they have postponed it for another day? “If so-”

“Oh no, Sir Phillip. My mother has an open door policy. With eight children, she stopped counting guests for tea ages ago.”

“Eight?”

Daphne laughed. “Is it possible that we have met the one person in all of London that does not know our reputations?”

Violet gave a sharp glance to her daughter. “We do not have a reputation.”

“Yes, we do, Mama. According to Lady Whistledown, you have four handsome sons and four beautiful daughters. All neatly and alphabetically organized,” Eloise returned to the conversation. She made her way toward the armchair she had before when Daphne tugged her into the remaining space on the sofa. Right in between the duchess and himself.

Alphabetically named children? “How delightful.”

The youngest daughter, Hyacinth, snickered. “Not according to Lady Whistledown. She said it was banal.”

With that comment, all of the Bridgerton ladies launched into a lively conversation. All Phillip could do was watch. He had vaguely heard of this Lady Whistledown, but he did not care much for the musings of a gossip columnist. No, he was far more interested in the young lady seated next to him.

Miss Eloise Bridgerton shared the same coloring as her sisters and mother, but on her everything seemed more. A rich brown hue in her hair, deep blue eyes, and a flush in her cheeks that matched her spirit. From everything he observed, Eloise Bridgerton was far beyond his league. All he sought was a quiet mother for his children. Someone who would not mind him spending more time with plants than the local society. Someone who did not resent him for surviving while his brother did not.

Daphne handed him a cup of tea. “Any sugar or cream?”

“No thank you.” He took a sip. It was a nice blend, and one he had not encountered before.

Hyacinth passed him a plate of pastries. “Get your share in before Colin returns. He is the reason we have two carts,” she said with a grin. “Where is your estate?”

“Hyacinth!” Both her sisters hissed.

It was a neatly tucked question. He rather admired the girl for it. “We reside at Romney Hall in Gloucestershire year-round. This will actually be my first Season in town.” And hopefully last, he prayed.

“Do you have any family in town?” Violet kindly asked.

He shook his head. “Not of my own, unfortunately. My late wife’s cousins do live near here.”

“We may know them. Who are they?”

Before he could answer, two more visitors arrived. One had the first familiar face here in London. He stood quickly to greet her. “Miss Featherington.”

Penelope Featherington had been wrapped in conversation with the gentleman beside her. If he guessed correctly, this was a Bridgerton brother. Lady Whistledown was correct, he admitted. The man was quite handsome.

At the sound of her name, she turned to Phillip and gasped. “Sir Phillip!”

“I am pleased to see you still recognize me after all these years,” he said politely. It was a very slight relation, but it was the only available in the city. It was pure luck that he encountered her in Lady Bridgerton’s drawing-room.

Eloise glanced between him and Penelope, as did every other Bridgerton. How did Penelope know their new neighbor?

Daphne was the first to recover from her confusion. Recognition dawned on her face. “Sir Phillip Crane was married to Miss Thompson,” she whispered, clutching Eloise’s hand.

“Miss Thompson?” Eloise parroted. All the pieces clicked together. “That Miss Thompson?” She covertly gestured to Colin. It had been years since anyone mentioned that fiasco of 1813.

Her sister wore her worry on her face. Eloise watched her brother instead. Obviously, Sir Phillip had no idea who he was in regards to his late wife.

Penelope nervously smiled. “It has been some time since our last meeting. My condolences on Marina,” her voice cracked as she spoke her name aloud.

Violet’s eyes widened at the name while Hyacinth nearly fell out of her precarious seat. Colin showed no particular emotion at all.

To her surprise, Eloise saw Sir Phillip grimace. It was slight, but she was sure it was there. “Thank you, Miss Featherington. Might I introduce you to my children?”

As he went to retrieve Oliver and Amanda, she spied another odd happening. Colin whispered something into Penelope’s ear. Eloise narrowed her eyes. What was going on here today? Penelope spoke quietly to him, and he nodded.

“Colin!” Eloise called out to him. “Have a seat next to me.” Daphne took the hint and moved to a seat closer to Mama.

He complied, swiping two pastries on his way over. Even in this awkward situation, Colin had to think of his stomach.

“I’m sorry.”

Colin coughed at her words. He recovered quickly enough to ask, “Why? It’s not as if you brought him here. Why is he at tea anyway?” Her brother, to his credit, did not grumble or sound put out. He had near a decade to get over Marina Thompson and her actions. From the little Penelope had told her of that summer, Marina did what she thought she needed to do.

“I invited them here,” she admitted. Eloise guiltily looked over to where Sir Phillip stood with the twins and Penelope. Amanda looked like a doll with her sun-kissed curls, and Oliver had a mischievous smile on his face. Some of her guilt melted away when she thought back to the solemn look on his face earlier. No, no matter the awkward situation, she was glad to see that the children had enjoyed themselves.

“Lady Bridgerton, I believe we have spent enough of your time,” Sir Phillip spoke. The twins’ angelic faces turned mutinous at his words.

“Nonsense, you are welcome here,” Violet warmly said.

“Nevertheless, we must take our leave.” He reached to take Amanda’s hand when she backed away.

“No! Can we please stay with Miss Eloise?” She rushed over to sit next to Eloise.

Oliver was not far behind his sister. “Miss Eloise wants us here.”

All eyes turned to look at her. Oh dear, what a situation. Sir Phillip pleaded with the exhausted look on his face. “Amanda, Oliver…” She sighed. “You have traveled a long way. It is a time to relax. Even Ambrose is tired.”

Daphne shot a glance at her son that had him yawning within seconds. It was pleasant to see her sister had not lost her maternal touch.

She took both of their hands. “I enjoyed seeing you both again.”

“You are welcome to come to tea any time you like, dears,” Violet added.

Penelope chimed in. “I must be going as well. Mama will be expecting me home soon.” Eloise resisted raising a brow at her friend. Portia Featherington never expected Penelope for anything. “I can escort you out, Sir Phillip.”

He nodded and held his arm out for her to take. Colin tensed beside her. What was going on with him?

“Come children.” Sir Phillip’s tone brooked no more rebellion. Reluctantly, the twins followed him. Before they fully exited, Amanda turned around and gave a small wave to Eloise. She could not help but smile back at the little girl and give her a little wave in return.

It was a few moments later that Eloise realized that all eyes were on her once again. Hyacinth’s were teasing, Daphne’s warm, and Violet’s motherly as always.

Only Colin seemed reserved. “That was an interesting encounter. Is he the latest in your line of suitors, El?”

“There is no line of suitors,” she shot back, crossing her arms. She loved Colin, but there were times she wanted to strangle him with his cravat.

“If there were, Sir Phillip would be right in front. He could barely take his eyes off Eloise,” Hyacinth added. Maybe she would get the cravat treatment as well.

“He is not my suitor! I barely know him.”

Violet patted her on the hand. “Dearest, they are simply teasing you. Do not take their words to heart.” She heaved a sigh. “Anyway, the ton is a small world. Who could have known of Sir Phillip’s connection?”

“I should have recognized him,” Daphne said.

“Why? When would you have met him?” Colin asked.

“I- um… I contacted the Army on Miss Thompson’s behalf after… everything. It was then Sir Phillip found her.”

“Was he the father of her child? Well, children?” Hyacinth could barely hold her curiosity.

“That’s enough Hyacinth,” Violet sharply said.

Daphne shook her head. “It was his older brother, Sir George. He died in the Peninsular Wars.” She looked at Eloise as she said this.

“It is their own personal matter. It does not involve us.” Violet folded her hands in her lap, signaling the end of this topic.

Her mother was wrong though. After the events of that day, it would involve the Bridgertons personally, whether they liked it or not.

And Eloise was caught in the middle, physically and possibly emotionally.

Later that evening, Eloise sat at her desk and stared at the blank parchment in front of her. She was not sure of what she even wanted to say. All she knew was that she needed to say something.

Sir Phillip,

Thank you for your presence at our house…

---

As always, reply if you want to be tagged in future updates.

Thank you to the amazing @thekatesheffield for the lovely banner!!!

#bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #sir phillip crane #philoise #To Sir Philip With Love #bridgerton fic #bridgertons #lightkeykid writes

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iridescent-hallucinations · 3 years

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A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words

Fluffy Jemily Oneshot.

Summary: Based on a prompt about couple's posting photos on social media, aka: JJ and Emily spend a lovely day with the kids.

Pairing: Jennifer “JJ” Jareau / Emily Prentiss

Word Count: 2108

Read it on AO3

Emily Prentiss is not very good with social media. That’s not to say she doesn’t have accounts, she does, she just doesn’t use them all that often. Reasons for this will vary depending on who’s being asked. Rossi is likely to explain this with a conversation they once had about Emily preferring hand written letters from her friends to a DM. Penelope believes the aversion is because she won’t take the time to actually learn how to use the platforms, despite her offering tech support. Derek thinks it’s because she likes her privacy and isn’t particularly interested in sharing every aspect of her life on the internet. Spencer’s explanation involves too many statistics.

JJ, however, loves Instagram. She isn’t too bothered with Facebook or Twitter, but Insta? That’s the social media platform for her. Not only does she have so much to capture on camera; her family, her friends, the beautiful scenery she stumbles upon on her jogs, she likes the simplicity of sharing these images online like a digital scrap book.

She began private Instagram accounts for both Henry and Michael when they were born, cataloguing their childhoods in a unique way that meant by the time they were old enough, they would be able to take over the accounts. It was novel, she realised, but it seemed like a really cool and contemporary way to document their childhoods.

While she isn’t particularly interested in posting photos online, Emily adores taking photos. She’s usually the one suggesting a photo opportunity, often snapping selfies of her and the team when they’re at Rossi’s, or asking one of them to take a cute photo of her and JJ, because they dressed up and look too good to not immortalise on camera. She’ll often whip out her phone to take pictures of Henry and Michael playing together, or JJ snoozing on the sofa. Her favourite type of photo is a candid shot, so she takes them of the people she loves as often as she can, always carefully and tactfully walking the line between being in the moment, and wanting to capture the moment.

One day, the had decided to take the kids out on an activity trail, one of those ones where you go on a hike and the children have a treasure hunt to do along the way. It seemed like a fun way to spend some much needed quality time together whilst also getting the boys to burn off some of their near endless energy. JJ had prepared a packed lunch for them all so that they could sit in the picnic area and eat lunch halfway through the trail. Thankfully the weather looked like it would stay dry, a couple of clouds scattered across the sky but nothing that seemed too drastic.

Packing the car with all the essentials, the little family set off on their adventure for the day. It didn’t take long to drive to their destination, and once they’d parked up, JJ and Emily grabbed a bag and a child each. Collecting a treasure map from the kiosk at the beginning of the trail, they let the boys run ahead to try and find the first activity.

They walked in comfortable silence behind Henry and Michael, who weren’t too far ahead, hand in hand, just enjoying the fresh air and each other’s company.

Spotting the first challenge, Emily watched as Henry read the instructions to Michael, stopping to spell out the words he didn’t know until he could work out what it said.

JJ smiled down at her children, so proud of Henry for being such a good big brother. Turning to her wife, her heart swelled, her life was so full of love, she couldn’t believe it sometimes.

Noticing that JJ was looking at her, Emily turned her attention to the blonde, meeting her smile with her own.

“How long do you think it’ll take them?” Emily asked, nodding her head over to the two boys who were searching around the trees for their next clue.

“The longer the better, I’m enjoying this.” JJ replied, taking the opportunity to pull out a bottle of water from one of the bags and take a long drink. She casually offered it to Emily, who took a sip before handing it back, and watching as she screwed the lid back on.

Pulling her phone out, Emily began to snap some photos of the boys who had finally found the clue they were looking for. Unable to resist the opportunity, the brunette took a couple of steps back, raising the camera so that JJ was in the shot. The result was a lovely photo of JJ, facing the boys, framed with the beautiful trees and shrubbery of the forest. The light was catching on the blonde’s hair, causing it to almost sparkle, JJ was honestly breathtaking. Why she chose to share her life with Emily remained a mystery to the older woman, but whatever the reason was, Emily knew she would never question how she managed to get so lucky, or what she did to deserve this family.

A little while later, with the boys successfully finding the next three clues, it was finally time to eat. Coming across the clearing, they took a seat on one of the wooden benches, unpacking their rucksacks and digging in. Emily couldn’t help herself, taking more action shots of the boys as they happily chomped on their sandwiches and sipped from their juice cartons.

There was an ice-cream stand at the edge of the clearing, and as the kids had eaten all of their lunches, JJ had gone to treat them all to a cone. Returning with the goods, she handed one each to the boys, laughing as then enthusiastically thanked her and took no time in devouring the sweet treat.

“I didn’t really fancy a whole one, so I hope you don’t mind sharing.” JJ said, carefully licking along the side of the chocolate ice-cream before reaching it out for Emily to grab.

“Sounds good to me!” Emily replied, leaning down to take some of the cool cream from the cone, not bothering to take it from her wife’s hand, humming as it slipped into her mouth and down her throat.

Once the ice-creams were all but gone, the boys stood up to play a quick game of tag. Intently watching them run around, squealing with excitement, JJ didn’t notice she had ice cream on her chin. Emily knew exactly what to do when she saw the streaks underneath JJ’s mouth, once more pulling her phone out and capturing the blonde on camera.

JJ spun to face Emily, who was laughing at how adorable the photo she’d taken had turned out.

“What’s so funny?” JJ questioned, still blissfully unaware of the marks on her face.

“You uh, you missed your mouth a bit there Jayje.” Emily puffed out between giggles.

Gasping JJ threw a fake glare at the brunette, grabbing for the phone to see for herself. Gasping again, she threw a hand up to her chin using her sleeve to wipe at the mess she had seen resting on her chin in the photo.

Continuing to laugh, Emily took her phone back from JJ before she had chance to delete the photo. Making a mental note to post it in the BAU group chat later, Emily placed her phone down on the table and reached out to still the blonde’s arm, pulling it down and replacing it with her own.

“I got you,” Emily said, wiping away the remaining ice cream from her wife’s chin, still unable to contain her giggles.

“There, I got almost all of it.” She stated, matter of factly.

“What do you mean, almost all of it?” JJ exclaimed, her eyes shooting up to meet the older woman’s, challenging her with screwed up eyebrows.

Rather than replying, Emily leaned forwards, poking her tongue out for a quick taste before sucking on the final bit of ice-cream that was stubbornly stuck to the corner of JJ’s mouth. Tasting the chocolatey goodness on her lovers mouth, she couldn’t help herself, claiming JJ’s lips with her own, slowly enjoying the way the chocolate was complementing the taste of the other woman’s lips.

So engrossed in the sensation of kissing JJ clean, Emily hadn’t noticed that the younger woman had sneaked her own phone off the table. Before she could object, JJ took a cute photo of the two of them kissing. The sound of the pretend shutter brought Emily to her senses, forcing her to break away from the blonde to see what was happening.

JJ sat there with a grin from ear to ear at the questioning look on Emily’s face.

“What? You’re not the only one who gets to take photos,” JJ offered, turning the phone so Emily could see the picture of them kissing.

“I guess it’s kinda cute?” Emily stated, still unsure as to why on earth JJ had decided to take the photo, but secretly thrilled that it had happened.

Before they could discuss anymore, they heard their sons shouting for their mommies, encouraging them to hurry up so they could finish the trail. With no objection from the women, they quickly cleaned up, forgetting about the photo that had just been taken.

Arriving home that evening after a long day of running around, climbing on things, chasing each other, and a lot of laughter, it wasn’t long before the boys were in bed, each clutching at their prizes from the treasure hunt.

Pouring a glass of red wine for them both, Emily waited in the lounge for the return of her wife, making herself comfortable on their sofa, swiftly pulling her phone out to pass the time. Deciding to have a rare scroll through Instagram, she found herself smiling fondly at a selfie of Penelope, Luke, and Roxie, double tapping to express her approval. The next photo was one Derek had posted of Hank with a football in his arms, he was getting so big now, Emily could hardly believe it, she liked it and scrolled again. She was greeted with a photo of Henry with his arm around Michael’s shoulder, both boys boasting with their medals from the treasure hunt. Her smile reached her eyes as she just admired the photo of their sons.

Realising there was more than one picture posted, Emily scrolled to the left, enjoying the next picture of the boys both crouching to look at a clue intently. Taking a sip from her glass, she scrolled once more and almost choked on her wine as she saw the photo of her and JJ kissing on her phone screen.

It was at this moment JJ made her presence known, clearing her throat to grab Emily’s attention.

“Whatcha doing?” She asked with a mocking tone to her voice, knowing full well what Emily was doing, she’d been stood in the room for a good minute, watching her wife scroll through the photos of their sons.

“Uhh, Jayje, did you... did you mean to post this?” Emily reached the phone out to show JJ the picture in question.

Taking the phone and the wine glass from her wife, JJ gently sat down beside her, placing the glass on the coffee table and pulling her legs up so she could sit facing her.

“Yeah, why?” JJ asked, looking at the photo and smiling to herself.

Surprised that JJ wasn’t embarrassed by the photo being shared publicly, and by how calmly she’d responded, Emily wasn’t really sure where to go from there. Clearly it wasn’t a big deal to the blonde, and knowing that it was intentionally posted, Emily relaxed a little bit.

“Huh, I don’t know... I just thought that it was an accident.” Emily looked into her wife’s eyes, smiling as she saw the unfiltered love swimming in them.

“Baby, I want the world to know you’re mine.” The blonde replied.

And with that, JJ slipped into Emily’s lap, leaving the phone where she had been sat. Placing her knees either side of Emily’s thighs, she locked her hands behind her wife’s neck and brought her forehead to rest against the other woman’s.

Emily’s hands instinctively clutched at JJ’s hips, pulling her closer. She slipped her thumbs under the edge of her lover’s top and began tracing slow circles against the silky skin there.

Lifting her chin so their lips were almost touching, Emily couldn’t help but gulp at the intensity of JJ’s stare.

Just before their lips connected, Emily breathed in.

“Jennifer Jareau, a picture's worth a thousand words, but here are four: I am forever yours.”

#Jemily #Criminal Minds #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #fluff fic #jj x emily #criminal minds fanfiction #I wrote a thing #my fic

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mad-woman1989 · 3 years

Text

Happier

Summary: JJ and Spencer got taken hostage and played truth or dare with the unsub, she confessed her feelings for her just as soon as you confessed yours for Spence.

Pairing: Spencer x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: No smut-fluff(?)

Word Count: 1.4 k

Listening to something that you were not supposed to is always bad, but the conversation JJ had with Spencer in that hospital room made you doubt about every single thing you were.

“I never meant to do that to you. I was prepared to take that secret to the grave, but now is out… And I can’t lie to you and say I didn’t mean it, I do love you”

Jennifer, someone you grew up -not as children but as adults- and that you view as a sister, had confessed Spencer that she had always loved him, just after things between the both of you have started to become more serious. “You were my first love. And I will always love you.” In that hallway you felt how, once again, you were nothing. Your heart ached already knowing what your next move was.

A soft knock in your apartment door interrupted you from packing. Your transfer from the Behavioral Analysis Unit had already been approved and in less than 48 hours you were going to be overseas. The B.A.U. is your family, and it has been like that for the past eleven years, but it was time to say goodbye. You could not stay there anymore. The JJ and Spence thing was only the tip of the iceberg, in all of the years you were there you saw people come and go, you saw the people you loved the most risk their lives day after day and you realized you were not able to handle it any more. When you looked through the peephole you saw the person you couldn’t see without tearing up, Spencer. You hesitated whether or not you should open the door, but you knew deep down that you two needed to talk. Without moving Reid looked at you and stated the obvious.

—“We need to talk”- you were hoping he didn’t want to come in.

—“About what?”- you answered calmly with a soft smile.

—“You are acting weird, I’ve known you for eleven years, and not once in your life you tried to avoid me or cut me off while I was talking”- you didn’t replied, you knew he was right.- “JJ has been feeling that you are avoiding her too, we are here for you.”- you looked down and then at him before you started playing with the chain that minutes ago locked your door.- “You heard what she said in the hospital, didn’t you?”

He knew you knew. You didn’t want this to happen. You were even planning on leaving without a goodbye because of this. Penelope would never forgive you for that, but it was a risk you were willing to take. You knew that If anyone other that Prentiss knew about your transfer they were going to over react and begged you to stay, or even worse, a goodbye get together.

—“Please talk to me”- he begged.

—“I don’t know what to say”- you answered finally. His lips pared a little but he remained silent, knowing that you would start talking again.- “JJ is like my sister”- you stated after a while - “ I can’t do that to her”.

—“Do what?- Said Reid rising his voice -“Dating someone she cannot date. She is married. Her sons are my godsons. What is it that you can’t do to her?”

You sighed, you knew Jennifer loved her boys, she lived for them and they seemed like the perfect family.

—“I can’t be with you while knowing that she loves you, and will always love you, in the same way I do.”- You finally spat.

—“You always told me I deserved to be happy, that I deserved everything nice life has to offer. Why can’t I be happy with the person I love?”- After everything he has been through he deserved a moment of peace, he deserved someone to come home to, he deserved love.

—“She is married, Spencer, I’m sorry”

—“Not her! I am talking about you!”- he started to get a little bit more impatient.- “I love you, not her, and I want to be with you.”- you looked down, but he immediately lifted your chin to make eye contact with him. - “You are the one I want to go home to, you are the last thing I want to see before falling asleep and the first when I wake up. I love you.”

—“But I don’t”- you said quietly.

—“What?”

—“I don’t love you, Spencer”- You stated a little bit louder.

—“That is a lie. And you know it. You are telling me this because you want me te hate you, but I am sure that what you just said is a lie.”- He was right. You rather him hating you than… whatever he was feeling now.

—“Reid…”- you didn’t knew what you were going to say next but you continued anyways- “You deserve to be happy with someone that loves you back. You need someone that understands you and that stays with you on every step you take. But that is not me.”

—“I want it to be you.”- His voice lowered and he had that soft voice.

—“I can’t.” - Your eyes were watered. - “I can’t stay to be with you without feeling guilty.”

—“Stay? Are you leaving?”

—“I put my transfer a week ago. I am going overseas.”

—“What you are doing is selfish. Two weeks ago you told me that you love me, and now you are telling me that it is a lie, that you are leaving and that you can’t be with me because of Jennifer. It is not fair. Between her and I nothing is going to happen and nothin can happen. You and I on the other hand, we can make this work.”- It was not fair? For who?

—“You told me that you love me”- He answered with an impatient yes- “Love comes with respect. You are not respecting the choices I made, I want you to be happy, to find someone better, but you don’t want me to achieve happiness. You are the one that is being selfish.”

—“I am not. I love you and you love me. We should be together, it is simple.”

—“For you. I can’t do this.”

—“Stay with me.” He paused- “stay for me.”

—“ I can’t, Spencer.” - a tear rolled down your cheek- “I hope that you find someone great. I hope that you find someone that makes you happier than I did.”

—“I don’t like goodbyes”- his voiced cut. - “I don’t want to find someone else, I want you.”

—“I am really sorry” - every inch of your body ached, this is why you didn’t get attached to people, goodbyes suck. They hurt and they are never nice. -“ It is not fair for you, I know. And I want you to know that this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Because all those speeches of you deserving the world were all true, and I always thought I would be there to see you smile and to have your back every in every step. Believe me when I say I don’t want to loose you, that I hate the thought of you out of my life. But you are right, as always.- You realized that he was not wrong when he said you where being selfish, but there was a reason. -“ I am being selfish, and I am leaving for my personal growth. It is the best for everybody.”

—“I need you”

—“You will not feel that way for long. You will eventually let me go. And forget about me.”

—“I can’t do that.”- Again Dr. Reid was stating facts, he did have an eidetic memory that would let him forget.”

—“If you love me you would let me let you go.”- Spencer stood there, defeated.- “Goodbye, Spencer”

As you were closing the door of your apartment he asked for a last hug. You doubted. But you finally gave in. You needed to touch him one last time. After what it seemed ages and couple tears in both of your shoulders you pulled away, not saying a word and closing the door, crying like a little kid that had just lost their favorite thing, leaving Spencer Reid, the love of your life, standing on the other side, wondering how would his life be if Casey Allen Pinkner hadn’t decided to play truth or dare with them.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #jennifer jereau #fanfic #spencer reid x y/n

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