#aaron is a curious case as a character because i think in the very first thing i wrote about aiden and sam
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when you're the main character's little brother and doomed by the narrative because the author decided that the cult trauma wasn't enough. rip aaron
#ts4 render#aaron#aaron is a curious case as a character because i think in the very first thing i wrote about aiden and sam#aaron was not a nice person he was still in the cult and aiden and aaron never had a good relationship#but aiden still felt guilty about you know. leaving aaron at the cult because aiden still recognizes that aaron is just mimicking their#parents etc etc#then i think i changed it so that aaron and aiden did have a good relationship but aiden did leave aaron at the cult#so then he very understandably feels guilty about that but the thing is aaron is. dead in this version too#so aiden very much feels responsible for aaron's death and he also theorizes that the people in the cult literally killed aaron#which i'm pretty sure wasn't actually the case but aiden's like trying to find someone other than himself to be angry at. you know#and THEN came the versions where aaron does run away with aiden#but now aaron instead dies under aiden's care and their relationship is like pretty complicated before aaron's death#mostly because of aiden's addiction so aiden very much feels responsible for aaron dying. so yeah
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soooo thinking about bodyguard Hotch (as always) and inspired by the latest fic, I wondered what other characters think of how close Hotch and reader are getting when he's still "on the case"?
I'm a sucker for outsider perspectives and I'm sooo curious if the BAU gang suspects anything or maybe even the stalker's perspective on Hotch and reader 👀
keep on teasing me / Aaron Hotchner
summary. 5 times someone teased Hotch about the case, the one he did the teasing
words count. 4 593
what to expect. the team is here but nothing except for that
a/n. thank you so much for your request sweetie!! i didn't see the BAU as The BAU in this series i picture them more some kind of agency or i don't know but they're here and it was sooo fun to have them around so hopefully you love this 🤍
bodyguard masterlist | criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request
1. the team meeting
“Agent Rossi, but you can call me David. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
You watched as David extended his hand, only to take yours and give it a kiss. “Well, the same goes for you, David,” you replied with a soft laugh.
You noticed Hotch rolling his eyes next to you, and you pinched your lips not to laugh even harder.
After you received yet another letter in your mailbox, the bureau decided to add new cameras and a security system to your apartment. Meaning, you had to leave for the day. Something you weren’t quite sure you understood, but you still agreed to.
Then again, you didn’t really have a choice when Hotch was literally pushing you outside this morning.
“It’s a great occasion for you to meet everyone,” he justified in the car while driving you to his office for the very first time.
You didn’t realize you had never seen where he was supposed to be working until today. How funny he knew every single centimeter of your place, and yet you didn’t even know what type of wood his desk was made of. Or if he had pictures on it. Pictures of whom? That was another question.
But he was right. You got to meet everyone. Seeing the real Derek, Emily, and Spencer you’ve seen on screen during the weekly meeting. Getting to meet the bubbly Penelope that was sending mail written in pink to organize every event you had to go to. You already knew Jennifer, the one who stayed with you when you had to get ready for a special occasion—after Hotch did once and left the room with cheeks redder than your lipstick.
“Maybe one of you can finally answer my question,” you said, your arms crossed on your chest once you were all in the meeting room. All their eyes landed on you, curious to see what could be on your mind. They were hiding many things from you—you didn’t need to know about the wannabe stalkers and those that defended you.
You put your hands on the desk in a very professional way, bending over. Just enough for Hotch’s eyes to fall on your back and your ass for a second. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by David.
“Why can’t I be here while you put cameras all over my place?”
“Because” Spencer started in a low and calm voice that he could say anything, you would believe him. “It’s safer that you don’t know about all of them in case something happens. We know that people tend to look at things that could put them in danger when they feel threatened. And if your stalker comes into your place…”
“Which he won’t.” Hotch interrupted him.
“Well, yes, but in case he does, you won’t be looking at the cameras because you won’t know where they are, and there is a smaller chance that he will notice them.”
You nodded; his explanation was fair, and your first thought was right: you tend to believe everything this man said. “But if I walk around naked, that means you will all see me?”
Sure, they laughed. You did too. It was a genuine question, but the situation was rather funny considering your case. Even Hotch let out a laugh, but mostly to hide his embarrassment at the idea.
Nobody answered your question in the end, and the discussion went to other subjects: the following weeks, the events, the organization… always the same movie playing on repeat in the end.
After the meeting, the girls offered to get you a coffee, and you gladly accepted their offer to change your mind. And discover the office. “And I’ll show you Hotch’s desk!” was a very good argument too.
Did he hear it? Yes. Will he stop you? No.
He was ready to accept your teasing about his bland and boring office if it made you happy.
Instead, he stayed in the meeting room to organize the latest proofs and stuff they collected.
“She has a point,” he heard in his back.
When he turned around, he wasn’t surprised to see David leaning against the door.
“What if she walks around naked and doesn’t know where the cameras are?” he added with a cheeky smile. Because that wasn’t his main concern. That wasn’t what he really meant. “But now that I think about it, you’re always around, so if she walks around naked…”
“Stop it,” he groaned, turning his back to him again. If he couldn’t see his amused face, he could hear his laugh. And again, the heat grew on his cheeks. It happened already; he almost saw you in your underwear. When you left your room and forgot that your bodyguard was always around.
Or you didn’t forget at all?
2. the recording studio
“One more take!”
You happily nodded, putting your headphones back on your ears to get ready to record again.
This was the first time since your case started and Hotch had been watching over you that you went back to the recording studio. You had been asking multiple times in the past. But until the team couldn’t secure a place, they kept refusing. More than once, Hotch offered that they build their own recording studio at your place.
“The whole point is that I don't get to work alone, Aaron.” You told him over dinner one night when he put the offer on the table again. “I know what I can do, sure. But I also need some artistic view, and as much as I appreciate you, you’re not an artist.”
And so after meeting the team you were used to working with and talking with your producer a couple of times, Hotch finally agreed to bring you to the studio. On one condition: he was going with you. Something you immediately said yes to because “you’re going to see me in my best element.”
Derek came with him, mostly to protect you from the fans when you would leave. They were already a lot when you arrived; they can’t imagine the number after the session. And two bodyguards were better than one.
Meaning, on top of looking after you, Hotch had to look after his own reactions looking at you. Because you were right, you were in your element, and there was something magical in the way you lit up when you sang. You were living for your music. The words you wrote these past weeks were the happiest, which it wasn’t hard to understand why.
More than once, he got lost in the beauty of the moment. Like there was nobody else in the room except for you and him. Like most of the time you spent together, to be honest. But it was…different. These felt more like a dream than the reality of what you were going through, putting the reason why Hotch was by your side all the time. He wished it would never stop.
When you started another song, this felt like another dream beginning. Another movie to start. The next episode of his favorite show.
And the truth was, Hotch wasn’t even paying much attention to the words you were singing.
But Derek was.
“They couldn't have me, and they never will. And sometimes I hold you closer just to know you're real.”
“Wait a minute.” Derek whispered. Hotch immediately perceived the amusement and especially the teasing in his voice. “She wrote this song lately?”
Hotch didn’t move, or maybe just a little when he crossed his arms tighter against his chest. But his eyes didn’t leave you. Not for a second. “How am I supposed to know?” he replied in a sharp tone that would indicate he didn't want to talk about it more.
Yet, he knew Derek Morgan more than anybody on this team. When this man had an idea in his head, there was little to nothing that could be done to change his mind. So he wasn’t surprised to see him make a step closer to the producer to put a hand on his shoulder. Neither was he when he heard him ask what the name of the song was.
“Bodyguard.”
You called that song Bodyguard. As much as he tried to stay focused on you, Hotch noticed from the corner of his eyes Derek turning his head to him and giving him a proud look. “Bodyguard,” he repeated, so low it was almost unhearable.
You sang the whole song, talking about the need to protect each other and being ready to do anything for their safety. And if it was more true on Hotch's side, it was the whole reason he was here in the first place. He could tell that there was some truth for you too. He knew that you had defended him already, for fun, when his teammates showed amusement about the situation and your complicity. For real, when you heard some people from outside questioning him—his ability or even his look.
He never felt unattractive, nor did he think he was the most handsome man in the world. But hearing you say there was no man you would rather have by your side than him built his confidence back. And having you sing it in a song that would probably be on your album was on another level.
“I think I understand now why you don’t want to get rid of this mission.” Derek finally said when he walked back to Hotch.
Hotch, who rolled his eyes again and sighed, said, “Shut up.”
And Derek laughed again. Except this time, Hotch couldn’t contain his smile when you looked at him after finishing your verse. With a sweet smile, like you were waiting for his approval. Asking if he had understood what you were trying to say.
And his simple nod was the answer you both needed to say he knew. He understood. And he felt the same.
3. the teasing
“You know everything will be fine, right?”
You found it ironic that you were the one reassuring your bodyguard.
You were sitting cross-legged on your sofa, watching as Hotch kept going back and forth between his room and the living room. Clearly more stressed about leaving than you were.
Sure, you did have anxiety about him leaving in the past. And sure, you loved having him around and wished he didn’t have to leave.
But Hotch had to work, and the girls offered to stay for the night. It could have sounded sexist that they were two when usually one man was enough. But JJ was doing the bodyguard job; Penelope was just looking for a good excuse to spend time with you. And a pajama party never hurt anybody.
He gave you a side look after putting his bag down on the floor. “How can you be so sure, exactly?”
Was he being unfair? Yes, and he knew that. Hotch trusted his team with closed eyes. He never doubted them in any case. And he wasn’t even doubting them now.
But he couldn’t help the feeling that he was the one that could treat you the best. Maybe it was above the case situation.
“Because the girls will be there, we are just going to talk and eat and drink wine.” You were enumerating each element with your fingers. Before opening your hands to show your outfit. “And I'm wearing my favorite pajamas; nothing can happen to me.”
Hotch rolled his eyes. Because he knew that fucking pajama too damn well. A pastel-colored tank and shorts that were showing too much skin for his own good. You had been wearing it many nights around him already. And his eyes couldn’t help but fall on your naked legs anytime you would sit by his side. And his mind was hoping silently that the fabric would go higher and higher on your thighs.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he mumbled in his breath before walking back to his room. Your feet were so light on the floor that he didn’t hear you either getting up or following him.
“Aaron Hotchner,” you laughed in his back. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t see you lean against the door or cross your arms on your chest, putting the almost see-through fabric against your skin. “Are you running away because of my pajamas?”
You smiled when you heard him laugh. “Yeah, sure, they are my next enemies after your stalker.”
“Ouch, stalker mentioned before leaving? Not nice, Aaron.” You put a hand on your heart, pretending to be more hurt than you actually were. The reality was there, and you couldn't fight it, so at least you could laugh about it. When he turned his head slightly, just enough to give you a look, you noticed the amused smile on his face from your whole comedy.
But you weren’t done with him. Not when he had the audacity to leave you for the night. Not when a low, low voice in your head was reminding you that you were scared Hotch could forget about you as soon as he closed the door—something that could never happen if you could actually read his mind.
So you walked to him, slowly. “Actually,” you started, sitting on his bed right in front of him. Perfectly in his sight, with your hands resting behind you, so his eyes would fall on your neckline. “I don’t think my pajamas are your enemies.”
And it did. His eyes fall on you and the trail of skin from your neck to your chest. “Are we seriously having the conversation?” he sighed.
“I think,” you pursued, making your eyes go down on him very slowly. “That you actually loved them a lot. Maybe they are the reason why you have a hard time leaving tonight.”
The clench on his jaw. The way he bit his lips. Or the way he turned his head to try to get rid of the thought that appeared—the one where he threw everything away to lay you on this bed and took these pajamas away from you.
You knew you hit right.
“Hotch?” you heard from the living room.
The girls were there. The game was over, for now.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Hotch finally replied, pointing to you and the room and basically everything that was driving him crazy. He tried to gain composure back, pretending he was mad about your behavior.
But your only answer was a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure we will,” you continued laughing before joining the girls.
Giving Hotch one last look at your ass in these goddamn shorts that would last with him all night.
4. The Stalker
It started as a beautiful and calm day.
Nothing planned. No meeting. No event. Nothing.
Just you writing a new song and Hotch working in his room. Sometimes you tend to forget these types of days could even exist, but they did. And you loved them.
You were lying on a rug, your legs on your sofa, listening to a melody you had composed a few days ago to find the perfect chorus when you heard Hotch’s door slam suddenly. “That son of a bitch.”
It was in these moments that you realized how much you trusted Hotch with your life. Because you didn’t even flinch a little as it was a sudden and loud reaction caused by God knows what. You simply waited for his figure to appear.
And he did. Oh, you almost forgot he had his glasses on when he was working on his computer. This explained the little smile on your face when you saw him, with faded blue jeans and a dark grey shirt that looked very nice on him.
“Something’s wrong?” you asked, looking at him from above. And he did look a little disappointed by your lack of reaction. But could you blame him? He was mad enough for two.
But instead of speaking, he handed his tablet to you.
And you saw the reason for his anger—a very justifiable one now that you could see the cause.
A picture of you two in the street from three nights ago when you had a sudden need for Italian food. You had binge-watched a whole cooking competition on TV, and you were craving pure Italian food from the restaurant down the street. The thing was, they didn’t take online orders. Even when you were a famous singer or a convincing bodyguard.
So you and Hotch went there yourself to order too many dishes that you shared the very same night.
Turns out, your stalker had been waiting for you. And made sure you knew about that.
“Your boyfriend looks pretty, but not as pretty as me, my love.”
Hotch turned his head suddenly. “Are you laughing?” But it was a dumb question. He could perfectly hear your sweet laugh in his ears, even from how far you were from him in this position.
“I’m sorry.” You apologized, putting your hands up in the air while getting up. You had a hard time finding your breath again. “I can’t help it.”
Hotch waited. And waited. Until you finally calmed down. But he was the one to freak out a little. When you landed your eyes on him. And when you put a hand on his arms, patting your fingers on his biceps. “He thinks you’re pretty.”
That was the point that made you laugh. That he was pretty. And the worst part was that Hotch knew why. You had a whole discussion the other day on the difference between pretty, beautiful, and gorgeous. “You, Aaron Hotchner, are gorgeous,” you said in a very serious tone.
You tried to explain that he wasn’t cute or pretty, not with his dark figure and the intensity of his look. He could be considered beautiful when he looked softer, like when he was relaxing. But he mostly looked gorgeous. You even said you wanted to put him in a music video because “that would make it work so much better.”
So you laughed about the pretty part.
Not the boyfriend part.
“You realize how dangerous it is that he saw us?” he finally added, trying to get away with the idea that being called your boyfriend sounded satisfying for the both of you.
You simply shrugged at his question. “See the positive side of it; at least he won’t approach me when you’re here. And you’re here all the time.”
And just like that, you made it sound like it was a normal thing for him to be considered your boyfriend by others.
Hotch could clearly get used to it. Or make it real someday.
5. the jealousy
“I don’t like that.” Hotch said in his breath. It could have been missed, almost inaudible.
If Emily and he weren’t in the same room, in total silence.
She turned around, her hand still full of the chips she was eating. “You want me to grab something else?” she asked, her brows furrowed from the confusion. She asked him what he wanted to eat during the tailing tonight. He had a real nerve to complain now.
But Hotch turned around, even more confused than Emily was. “What?” He looked down at the chips bag in her hands and let out an amused sigh—at least he wasn’t too angry to forget how to laugh. “I’m not talking about the chips, Prentiss.”
“Oh,” she replied, taking another handful. “Then what are you talking about, Hotch?”
She had to wait again. Because suddenly the idea of saying out loud what had been on his mind all day wasn’t as genius as he thought it was. He was being an idiot, ridiculous, he would even say. That was his job. That was everyone’s job. And he had no right to say it wasn’t a good idea or that he wasn’t happy about “Oh, it’s about Derek taking care of her tonight, right?”
A groan. That was all Hotch could answer at the moment.
And a laugh. That was the only reaction Emily had to the situation.
“Are you jealous?” she finally asked after a moment. And maybe he was quick to reply that he wasn't. Too quick, he didn’t sound sincere at all. “Ok, you’re completely jealous.”
It was a decision they made all together. Hotch was the very first to agree. After the stalker’s latest letter and the proof he had perceived the chemistry between Hotch and you himself, the team thought it would be safer to ask Derek to bring you to the premiere instead of him.
New face, new man, an easy way to confuse the stalker. And made him believe his threat was working.
Choosing Derek out of anybody was a good strategy. Sure, Spencer was good-looking but not as confident as his colleague. The girls would have been a great support, but they wouldn’t have made him jealous. And David was a great father figure, less of a lover—even if he was still talking about your compliments.
Hotch had all the proof the team made the right decision when he saw the flash crackle when you walked the red carpet, with Derek following you closely.
The good option, right? Young, good-looking, funny, smiling…
“For what it takes,” Emily started again. And if she hoped he would put his eyes away from the view of you, looking so beautiful with your dark-colored dress and your hair up—in a way he could imagine his fingers brushing your neck—she was wrong. “She’s not with him like she is with you.”
No answer. But a sigh. A very subtle sigh that was a sign of relief. Because Hotch noticed it too, honestly.
When Derek put his hand on your back, you didn’t take a single step back to cuddle against it—like you did with Hotch.
When Derek told a joke in the car, one they all heard and that made some of the team laugh, you didn’t laugh as hard as you did with Hotch—with your eyes showing your amusement, your head falling back, and a hand hitting his chest.
But mostly, anytime Derek was looking at you—definitely not in the same way Hotch was, but still—you weren't looking at him for as long as you did with him. Because anytime you were looking at Hotch, you were appreciating every single feature in his face like it was the last time.
“Oh boy.” Emily laughed, and this time, Hotch turned his head in disappointment. “You’re so falling for her.”
“Shut up.” Hotch finally replied. He saw the way Emily bit her lips, trying to contain her smile and mostly her laugh from his reaction.
And he was fighting too. Because she was so right.
+1
“I refuse!”
Running after Hotch wasn’t too hard in your apartment—it was big but not that big. Yet it felt like this man had a little too much fun making you run in a circle and going room after room without stopping walking. Will he even stop walking one day?
Well, yes, he did. Right in front of you. Meaning you stopped too, but only by hitting his back. “You don’t want me to do my job?” he asked with a soft laugh.
“That’s not what I mean!” You hit his chest—it was an easy target, right in front of you. But Hotch was quick to turn around and grab your wrist before you gave him another punch. Or whatever you were trying to do.
“Just not with somebody else, hm?” You didn’t reply, but you frowned your brows so hard, in a way he was the master of, that he had his answer.
Hotch had been called for a mission with a young woman, the ex-wife of a high politician that didn’t want to go alone to some charity event. For your defense, you stopped listening after you heard Aaron Hotchner and the name of another woman in the same sentence. It was a one-night thing; he would be back in the morning. Nothing very unusual from your routine.
Except for the fact it was Hotch with another woman.
And the idea of seeing a picture of him looking like a god—because you knew he would, he always did—with someone else was… “maybe,” you finally answered in a mumble that made him laugh harder.
Hotch could have been angry. If it had been any other client, he would have reminded them that they had absolutely no opinion to give about his job. His job was, indeed, his job. Actually, he already had dropped a case because of a jealous client. So yeah, he could have been angry.
First, if it wasn’t you. At this point, he would be stupid to not accept you as a client. You were…you. A great and wonderful woman that made his day much better, a friend that he wanted to cherish for as long as he could. And, well, whatever you were, that justifies your place in his head and heart. He could only accept your jealousy after being jealous himself seeing you with Derek.
Second…well, because he wasn’t going to this case after all. He was called for it, and he had done the meeting, the organization. Everything was ready. And until a few hours ago, he was still on it, ready to spend another night with politicians—the thing he probably hated the most in his job. But he quit at the last minute. Spencer would go for him, and he would do a much better job at pretending to be interested in what these idiots would say—mostly to contradict them.
“That’s funny.”
You opened your mouth only to close it. And opened it again. “You think I’m funny?”
“Everyone kept teasing me about this case, saying I’m too involved with you, that my reactions are too much, that I’m too possessive. You teased me about not wanting to leave you.” It was hard to concentrate with his big green eyes stuck in yours and his fingers brushing your wrist like that. “But you are the one who refuses to see me go somewhere with someone else.”
You stayed like that, in silence, for a few seconds. You, frowning and pretending to be hurt. Him, with his proud smile that was only making you angrier.
But in the end he was right.
It was fun to tease him about his feelings when yours just hit you in a quite violent way.
So you took a step back, then another, before turning your back. “Blame a girl for being jealous,” you said in your breath before walking to your sofa and lying down. Pretending that stupid and arrogant—and many other adjectives you could find to describe Hotch that weren’t true—had already left.
But he hadn’t.
He looked at you.
He could have told the truth.
He could have told you he wasn’t going there and he was just playing with you.
But instead he said, “You win.”
You didn’t even turn around. Didn’t even move. Which made him laugh even harder because he knew you were simply pretending not to care. But when Hotch walked closer to you, enough that he could put a hand on the sofa and tilted his head to look at you, he saw the smile on your face. The one you were trying to hide but couldn’t contain at the idea of him being by your side.
“I’m staying with you.”
And you both knew these words had more meaning than they were pretended to.
He was staying. Tonight. Maybe longer. Maybe forever.
Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee @raysmayhem-72 @kajjaka @pastelpinkflowerlife (if you want to be in it, ask me and I’ll be happy to add you x)
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner criminal minds#thomas gibson#hotchner#hotch#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#ssa aaron hotchner#bau#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fic#hotchner x reader#hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fanfic#thomas gibson x reader#thomas gibson fic#my writing
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okay okay, hear me out, Aaron Hotchner (post Hailey’s death) with a male reader significant other who isn’t with the FBI.
Reader is super harmonic with Jack and they’re all very domestic together so when aaron is able to be on cases continuously and spontaneously without having to call anyone to look after Jack, the team gets suspicious cause, wdym hotch doesn’t call jessica or anyone else?!?
and then they’re all like, so who’s this mystery lady, and well… it isn’t a special lady
hope your holiday was nice :)
Just Some Guy (In Hotch’s Kitchen)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Male! Reader
Word Count: 1.5k+
DNI: Fem-aligned
Author's Note: When I tell you i ran to complete this request, I am not joking. This is hilarious. 🤤
I think I'm getting better at dialogue? Description has always been my strong suit, and I have a tendency to make character's a little ooc, but after *Whisper* binge watch the earlier seasons again.. I think i'm using more language that the character's themselves are using. 😋
As always, feedback is appreciated! Hope you enjoy :))

No one suspected anything at first. Which, frankly, was the embarrassing part. Wheels were up. But apparently, so was Hotch’s mood. Which was… not standard protocol.
He was still there at 7:30 sharp, still crisp in suit and tie, still handing out case files like clockwork. But the edges had changed. Subtly. The kind of change you only noticed when you knew what the old shape used to be. And the BAU had quite the bit of experience with it.
The first clue was the phone calls, or the lack of them.
“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, stepping out of his office one Thursday afternoon, file tucked under his arm.
Emily blinked. “Don’t you need to… call Jessica?”
Hotch paused a fraction too long. “No. It’s taken care of.”
And then he walked off. Like that was normal.
Except it wasn’t. Because since Haley’s death, every late-night or last-minute case came with a Hotchner-adjacent logistical flurry: scrambling for backup, adjusting for Jack. Jessica dropping everything. Garcia babysitting. Morgan teaching Jack how to throw a football in Quantico’s parking lot because nobody else was available.
But lately?
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
It kept happening. On Friday evenings. At 2 a.m. calls. Even once on a Saturday morning, which felt borderline blasphemous!!
Jack was always fine. Always “covered.” Always “already sorted.” And Hotch? He was weirdly relaxed about it. Not relaxed-relaxed, he was still Hotch, but in that quiet, steady way, like he was sleeping more than three hours a night. Like he wasn’t drowning anymore.
Naturally, the team spiraled.
It was Garcia who said it first.
She popped her head into the bullpen one morning, a pink thermos in one hand and her nails painted a dazzling electric blue. “Okay, question,” she said, “and this isn’t gossip, it’s concerned and loving observation, but… has anyone else noticed that our dear Unit Chief has stopped calling Jessica when we go wheels up?”
Reid looked up from his screen. “I have. It’s anomalous.”
“Exactly!” Garcia beamed, spinning in a slow, graceful circle like the drama demanded movement. “So I did some snooping—light snooping, just on the surface web, and Jessica hasn’t posted a photo of Jack in months. Which, I mean, okay, privacy, sure, but also.. why??”
Morgan leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Wait. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
JJ chimed in, her voice quiet but curious. “He’s… seeing someone.”
“Oh my God.” Emily’s face lit up. “Hotch has a girlfriend.”
Reid frowned. “There’s no behavioral evidence to support that hypothesis. He hasn’t altered his routines, his scent is the same-”
“Scent?” Emily raised an eyebrow.
“I mean cologne. He hasn’t changed brands.”
“Thanks, Sherlock.”
“But it could still be someone,” JJ said thoughtfully. “He’s been… softer. Around the edges.”
“Softer,” Garcia repeated dreamily. “Like a stale marshmallow left out just long enough to get that perfect chew.”
Morgan grimaced. “Baby girl.. Why would you say that?”
You were elbow-deep in dinner prep when it happened; knife in one hand, sauce simmering low on the back burner, and Jack perched on a kitchen stool, legs swinging, rattling off planet facts between bites of sliced cucumber.
“The sun doesn’t count, right?” he asked, licking salt from his fingers.
You shook your head, amused. “Nope. Sun’s the center. Tell me again, what’s the biggest planet?”
“Jupiter!” he grinned. “Easy.”
“Starboy strikes again!”
The house smelled of garlic and sesame oil, warm light bleeding in through the kitchen window. You moved around the space with practiced ease—pan to counter, towel to hands, reaching above the sink for plates. It had been a long day, but the kind that settled into your bones without complaint. The kind that felt earned.
Then you heard the front door unlock.
You glanced at the time, Aaron said he’d be home early, and it tracked. You wiped your hands, already smiling, half-ready to tease him about forgetting the scallions.
But it wasn’t just one pair of footsteps.
The hallway creaked.
And then-
Six people stepped into your home like they were walking into a hostage situation.
Emily blinked first, frozen halfway into the room. “Oh,” she said faintly. “Um.”
Rossi stopped beside her, mouth half-open. Garcia’s glitter-coated eyes were huge. Reid hovered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if this counted as breaking and entering. JJ gave you a polite, deeply confused smile.
You, barefoot in Aaron’s hoodie, holding a wooden spoon, said the only thing you could think of.
“Uh, hi?”
“Oh my God,” Garcia whispered, visibly short-circuiting.
Morgan stepped forward cautiously, like he was worried you'd vanish. “Hey. Sorry—uh. Are.. you the babysitter?”
“Family?” JJ guessed, tilting her head. “Uncle? Cousin?”
You blinked. “Well, um, not exactly…”
Aaron walked in behind them then, adjusting his tie like this wasn’t a sitcom moment from hell. Jack darted straight to him.
“You brought them!” he chirped, latching onto his dad’s side.
“I didn’t mean to bring them,” Aaron said, sighing.
“Wait.” Emily’s voice cut the air. “Wait, wait, wait.”
Reid’s eyes darted to you. “Wait. If he lives here, and Jack knows him, and he’s wearing your hoodie—”
“Holy shit,” Emily whispered, eyes wide. “You’re his boyfriend.”
You blinked. “I mean… I’m not the boyfriend. I’m his—well, I guess I am the boyfriend. But also like… Jack’s stepdad? In spirit. Or, you know, ..macaroni art.”
Morgan dragged a hand down his face. “Man. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Rossi looked around—the kid art on the fridge, the socks in the hallway, the way Jack had started humming to himself at the table again. He smiled, small and sure. “Well. I’ll be damned.”
Aaron stepped beside you, his hand brushing lightly against your back. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend.”
You gave a half-wave. “Nice to meet you, officially ..There’s food, if you want it?”
There was a beat of stunned silence. Then Emily muttered, “I need to sit down.”
Jack popped his head out from behind Aaron’s hip. “Dad said they might find out.”
Hotch glanced at you. “He also said you’d panic.”
“I’m not panicking,” you said, calmly placing a wooden spoon into the sink. “I’m surprised. There’s a difference.”
Garcia squeaked. “You make dinner? Like, actual food? From scratch? With sauce and everything?”
You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. I kind of… do most of the home stuff. Aaron works late, and I freelance from home, so it makes sense. And Jack—well, he’s easy to cook for. Kid likes sushi and peanut butter, so we’re golden.”
Morgan stepped in, still sizing you up like he was waiting for you to reveal your criminal record. “How long has this been going on?”
Aaron answered that one. “A little under a year since we met, we've been together for about.. 7 months, though. I didn’t want to introduce him too early—not until Jack was ready.”
“I was ready,” Jack said. “I told him to keep him.”
You reached over and ruffled his hair. “It’s true. I was basically adopted.”
Hotch let his hand rest lightly on your upper arm, casual and open in a way he rarely was around anyone else. “He’s the reason I’m still standing.”
That shut everyone up.
Later, after the team had accepted drinks and second helpings and Jack had shown each of them his solar system three times, you stood in the kitchen with Emily and Garcia as they washed dishes by hand.
Garcia dried a plate and gave you a side-eye. “So. Be honest. You cook, you clean, and you co-parent. But do you also bake?”
You laughed. “Sundays. Banana bread. Family tradition!”
Garcia made a strangled noise and collapsed into Emily’s side.
Emily just smirked. “You know you’ve ruined her, right?”
Across the room, Aaron stood with Morgan and Rossi, a glass of red wine in one hand and his other still resting lightly on Jack’s shoulder as the boy excitedly explained the rings of Saturn.
“He’s good with him,” Emily said, nodding at Jack.
You looked. Watched the way Aaron leaned in just enough to listen, the way his eyes crinkled when Jack said something silly.
“He’s better with him,” you said. “Not just good. Better than he was when he was alone.”
Garcia bumped your shoulder. “So are you gonna make it official or what? Rings? Vows? Doves?”
You grinned. “..Eventually. But for now? We’re good like this.”
The next morning at Quantico, Morgan stepped into Hotch’s office with a coffee and zero shame.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into the chair across from the desk. “So. Mystery solved.”
Hotch raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to make this awkward, are you?”
Morgan grinned. “Absolutely I am.”
Hotch sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “What do you want to know?”
Morgan leaned forward. “You love him?”
Hotch didn’t even blink. “Yes.”
Morgan nodded, then held up the coffee like a toast.
“Then we’re good.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#x male reader#x gn reader#x reader#aaron hotchner x male reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#criminal minds x male reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fics#criminal minds fic#Seventh Writes
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Misc Trivia: François Deschamps
Original info post here.
I think he'd be into very obscure french music. In his little room he has a music player brought from home that plays some of his favorite CDs. If you're curious on his music taste... He listens to Mikado.
With the other EuroB coaches... He's on good terms with Gretchen, I guess. While a completely new face leading Germany caught him off guard, after spectating her in action he soon got an idea why. For now, he keeps an eye on her, specially even before the FR vs GER match.
With Julio he does have a clearer idea of who he is as a coach, granted he kept an eye on his plays back at both the Spain Community Cup and the posterior tournaments. However, after seeing who he is as a person... Yeah, he is not very amused.
I've mentioned he has a family on his original post, but not that they've also followed him into Liocott. When the team is on free time, he does sneak up and have fancy dinner dates with his wife, although he tries to cover himself from media and his own players.
Because he's always training at the team's field, he actually doesn't know well what his daughter does behind his back. She could easily encounter any of RG's players while hanging around the area, and he would not even be aware (????)
Michel is a character that is very fond of François. Long story short, since his childhood the gardener wanted to play as a forward; but everytime he got to play the other kids wanted him either on the goal or defense due to his body type. Michel tried to stand up all he could, but people kept stigmatizing him even around the FFI era. However, upon telling this to the RG coach, François decided to look outside the box, and let Michel play on his dream position. However what was at first a weird choice turned into a delight, as the new forward proved to be himself to be as capable as anyone else; no matter how he looked. Thanks to his Morin appreciates the coach deeply, and wants to help unite him and his teammates better. François doesn't mind, really, but he's happy to help. As the father of a non-verbal girl, there's nothing he despises more than discrimination.
RG and KOQ might not have the best relationship all the time, but both François and Aaron are in quite good terms, considering each other rivals both in the FFI and in the professional soccer leagues. Who knows, they might have gone to a cafe together at some point (?
...François doesn't speak it out much, but as he warmed up to RG he started to appreciate more his player's skills outside soccer. He enjoys Claude's baked bread, Ladji's beautiful art, Stephane's talented singing voice, etc.
When the FFI was over, Fran returned to his normal life, although without the contact of any of the RG players. This is NOT the case in the Ogre timeline. IN FACT, Fran's story on the Ogre is more crude. After the mess that was the final Block B match, he had to retire temporally from soccer as he had been ridiculed intensely by the media. He eventually came back to soccer thanks to his efforts, but the event left a huge stain on his previous records both for him AND even for his daughter. Poor girl was often reminded over how much her father flopped during the FFI :(
Nonetheless, the same way the RG players connected with each other after such a low point in life, the Deschamps family would also be able to join this group.
---
Extra info for the Deschamps family.
Isabelle Jacquet met Fran for over 20 years, yet things are still as good as they were. She has a job of her own too as a french teacher, mostly focusing her work into helping the children of newly arrived migrants get used to their new home/language properly. She is also learning French Sign Language as to communicate with Suzette, though she's aware that the written word at times can be more easier to use and understand.
As for Suzie, she's into collecting magazines, specially fashion ones. When recognizing few of the recurrent faces appearing on dad's soccer team, she became ecstatic to meet them in person. Finding out François' ban ended up being quite dissappointing for her, though she's aware she can't do much about it. At least going by herself in the french area, she gets to meet and make some friendships of her own.
#inazuma eleven#rose griffon#OC:François Deschamps#Michel Morin#...Don't ask about that 2-day delay#The extra info is there to make up for it (?#Either way.... Morin my bby#Note some hours later after posting; but I changed a particular term to refer to Suzie#Mainly because of some second thoughts I had re-reading this#I'm not sure if “mute” or “Nonverbal” are the most accurate terms to describe a non-speaking person#Though I've seen some people not liking the former word...? Dunno overall#HC:Ina11
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Aww that's so nice that you were watching a livestream while I was there. I'm so happy that I got to experience that and happy I got to go at all. It was really amazing and I already miss it. The thing with surprise songs is that it's really subjective..like a coworkers daughter apparently said she would have rather seen All of the Girls..which is also cool. I would've liked that too but it was better for me that Aaron was there cuz that doesn't happen every show. The only thing that could've possibly made it better is if she brought Hayley out too..lol. Anyway loved it so much and she did also wear the pink Folklore dress which is one I was hoping for. It was just so cool to even see the Folklore cabin in person too and the Vigilante chair dance.
Anyway..for my other ask..I usually don't read sequels or series. The only time I did was with HP or Twilight and that was when all the sequels were already out. But I totally get what you mean about cash grab and spinoffs. I'm interested in the new Hunger Games movie spinoff though! I think sometimes it's natural or it might be because readers want more. Like with this one, I think the book is like 10 years old and people have discovered it and seeing people like it inspired her to write more maybe? Also it works sometimes when you are writing a different characters perspective too..which is the case here apparently. If I did read series regularly, I would probably forget about it too though lol. Also..I loved the first season of Crazy Ex Girlfriend!!! I never got to finish it though cuz I stopped having Netflix..but I do like when a show is able to wrap up the story. I feel like that happens more often now actually..like when a show is based on a book so there is only one season. Then there's something like the new Sex and the City reboot show which seems kinda unnecessary but you still wanna watch for the characters lol. I did like how they updated part of it..like what it would be like for them now and in their 50s though..which made it seem a little fresh at least but it was just okay. I know people were unhappy with Gilmore Girls too..which idk how to feel about either. So I'm usually up for having more to a story or characters I love but sometimes it messes with what you already imagined in your head I guess. These two books do stand on their own though and you probably don't need to read the sequel either unless you want to and that's if you like it lol. I probably will though cuz I get curious and then I could let you know how it is. Also if you do end up reading Some Mistakes Were Made..you could let me know how it is, or I could start reading it again..or together maybe? I've taken a break from reading too this week since I was focused on Taylor but excited to get back to it. I hope you have an awesome trip in Chicago this week! 🩷
hi 🩷 friend!!!! i missed you while i was out of town 🤍 i hope you've been doin well! what have you been up to? have you read anything good lately? it is so, so interesting how people feel about surprise songs!! because to me i think they're just a bonus to the 43 songs that we're already incredibly lucky to hear, but i've seen people on tiktok/twitter/etc. genuinely upset and angry and claiming that their surprise songs like, ruined their experience or whatever and i'm like ... really? i just feel like the relationship "swifties" talk about taylor is ... very ... interesting, to say the least! my friends and i were so hopeful that hayley would be a surprise guest in seattle night 2, and they'd sing castles crumbling (we were also convinced that she'd acknowledge folklore though, and she didn't) because paramore was supposed to play in seattle the day after seattle night two but had to reschedule. and i'm SO happy you got the dress you wanted for folklore! i think the folklore outfits are just so, so pretty — they might be my favorite set of costumes for the whole show. i'm quite intrigued with the new hunger games prequel! i haven't read it yet (and i've actually only ever seen the first hunger games movie), but i really loved the trilogy when i was younger and have been thinking about finally sitting down and watching them (or maybe rereading, once i'm done with my current rereads). i do agree a prequel like this feels more natural, rather than say, shadowhunters, which has like 50 million books! if you ever get a chance to finish watching crazy ex girlfriend, i highly recommend it!! i also just love all the musical theatre references and i just think it's really well done. i haven't rewatched it since it aired, actually, but i do want to rewatch it soon! i am just very, very bad at watching tv! i'm currently watching the summer i turned pretty, and then when i'm caught up with that (or when i have a little more breathing room), i think i'll watch the second season of heartstopper! i was really excited about the new gossip girl (especially since a couple of theatre people are in it), but it just did not … work for me at all. and yes!! i would definitely be down for a buddy read of some mistakes were made if you'd like? i could start it next week if that works for you!! i just need to get my life together and hopefully finish one or two of my current reads first! i had a lovely time in chicago, thank you my dear 🤍 definitely dreading being back at work tomorrow!
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Consequences
One case, three different outcomes
Today makes it exactly a year since I started writing for Hotchniss. You are all so lovely, and so nice and I am forever grateful I found this fandom <3
To mark the occasion I have written something a little different. This has 3 chapters, and each one is a different outcome of the same case, an exploration of how even the smallest decision can make a big difference.
Chapter 2 will be up tomorrow (10th December) and Chapter 3 will be up on Saturday (11th December).
_____
Chapter 1: Compliance
Words: 4.4k
Warnings: major character death, canon typical violence, very brief mentions of alcoholism, cursing
Read over on AO3, or below the cut!
Let me know what you think!
It’s heavy in his pocket. A dead weight he is constantly aware of, tapping it occasionally to make sure it’s still there even though he can feel it. Nervous energy rolling off of him in a way she must have noticed, having been well attuned to him long before they became them.
“Are you ok, Aaron?”
He turns to look at her, she’s behind him securing an earring in place as she walks out of their ensuite, a curious look on her face.
“I’m fine, Em.” He walks over to her and kisses her cheek, knowing she hates it when he kisses her properly just after she applies her lipstick. “I just don’t want to be late.”
She laughs at him. “We’re going to dinner, honey. At our favourite restaurant. The owner loves you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a table waiting for us at all times.”
Aaron smiles because she’s right. They go there as often as they can, revisiting where they had their first date years ago. He remembers it like it was yesterday, his nerves not too dissimilar to how he was feeling now. His break up with Beth had been fresh, Emily’s thoughts of moving to London pushed to the back of her mind after he asked her for one chance, one date after they had admitted their feelings to each other over coffee after JJ’s wedding.
They never looked back. Things hadn’t always been easy. Both of them were nervous at first, unsure of the love they gave each other freely, both scarred by their pasts, the way life had broken them down only for them to build themselves back up. They were good for each other, their lives already so intertwined every step felt natural, like this was something they had always been heading towards.
Sometimes Aaron couldn’t believe that this was his life now, that he lived in a house he and Emily had bought together, and that she was helping him raise Jack. Before he knew it almost 3 years had passed, and he knew it was time to take the final step, to further solidify their lives together.
Which is why he currently had a ring in his pocket, nestled in a velvet box, weighing him down in a way he was sure was changing his gait.
“Are you sure you’re ok?” She asks, her amusement turning into concern as she cups his face, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. He looks confused and she chuckles. “You’re staring.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Emily rolls her eyes and kisses him. “Come on. Or we really will be late.”
She leads him out of their bedroom by his hand and he knows he would follow her anywhere.
____________
They are barely through choosing their food, half a glass of wine down each, when his phone rings. He groans in frustration as he looks and sees Penelope’s name on the screen, knowing it only means one thing. Emily bites her lip to hold back her smile. She reaches for her glass to have another sip of wine, knowing their evening was about to be cut short, and watches him as he speaks on the phone. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he tells Penelope to call the others, that they’d meet at the office soon.
“I’m sorry love.” He sighs as he hangs up, smiling apologetically at her as he signals to a waiter, asking for the bill quickly for the wine they wouldn’t get to finish.
“It’s ok. It happens.” She says, placing her hand over his on the table and linking their fingers. “We’ll come back another time.”
She tries her best to get him out of the funk he had found himself in, running her foot over his calf under the table as he pays. It doesn’t work, and she frowns. This wasn’t the first date they’d had that the BAU had interrupted, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. They usually both took it in their stride, knowing they’d at least still be together even if they were working. The stolen moments they had in random hotel rooms across the country, curling into each other as they grabbed sleep where they could.
They walk hand in hand to their car, and he still seems melancholy, like something is weighing on his mind, and she stops. He only realises she still isn’t walking with him when his arm tugs at hers and she’s standing still. He turns to look at her and she tilts her head at him, eyes narrowing as she tries to read him, breaking their long standing, but rarely followed, rule to never profile each other.
“Aaron, seriously. What’s going on?” She asks as she pulls him towards her. He follows willingly, his hand landing on her hips.
“Sorry.” He replies, his body starting to relax as soon as her hands loop around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. “I was just looking forward to dinner, that's all.”
He hopes she doesn’t see through it, that she doesn’t question what's been left unsaid. He briefly considers digging the ring out and proposing to her here, getting onto his knee on the sidewalk a few paces from their car and just asking her. But he stops himself, telling himself that she deserved more than that. She stares at him for a second and if she doesn’t believe him she doesn’t say anything, and she simply nods instead.
“I was too, baby.” She says bringing his head down to hers so she can kiss him, smiling against his lips as she kisses her again as soon as she pulls back. “We’ll figure something out when we get back, okay?”
“Okay.” He replies kissing her again before disentangling himself from her, his hand still grasping hers as they walk towards their car.
____________
Emily and Aaron walk into the bullpen together, hand in hand since it was the evening and only the team was around, everyone else home for the day.
“Well, look at you.” Penelope says, smiling widely as she looks Emily up and down, the dark green dress she had worn on her date with Aaron far dressier than anything she would usually wear to the office. “Sorry for interrupting date night.”
Emily hums at her friend and raises her eyebrow, her go bag in her hand. “It’s not like you’re the serial killer, Pen.” She looks at Aaron and squeezes his hand gently. “I’m going to change.”
She walks off towards the bathroom. As soon as she is out of sight Penelope turns back to Aaron and she hits him in the shoulder with the case files in her hand.
“I don’t see a ring on her finger.” Penelope says, outrage written all over her face.
“I got called before I got the chance to ask.” Aaron deadpans, raising his eyebrow.
“Right.” Penelope replies, clearing her throat as passes him the files. “Sorry. But as soon as you guys are back, right? Keeping it secret is killing me.”
“As soon as we’re back.”
____________
“Four female law enforcement officers in Bellingham in Washington state have been killed in the past month.” Penelope says, bringing up pictures of the crime scenes on screen. “All of them shot.”
“How do we know this is one person? Not just an unfortunate coincidence?” Derek asks, leaning forward on the table on his elbows, frowning at the pictures in front of them.
“The unsub sent a letter to the local paper,” Penelope says, clicking a button so it came up on screen, “taking credit for the crimes and explaining his reasoning.” She passes out copies of the letter so they can all read it.
“Let me guess, he’s big into women’s rights?” Emily says sarcastically, taking her copy of the letter.
“He definitely has a bee in his bonnet over women in positions of power.” Penelope says, her eyebrows raised. “The letter is delightful.”
“So he’s a misogynist.” Spencer says. “Was probably passed over by a woman for a promotion? Or feels like he’s been downtrodden his whole life.”
“Four officers in four weeks Garcia?” Aaron asks, turning his attention to the technical analyst who nods in response. “That means he’s probably already on the hunt for his next victim.” He checks his watch. “Wheels up in 30, we’ll be there by morning.”
____________
Emily smiles at Aaron as he sits next to her on the jet, a small paper cup in each of his hands.
“That better not be coffee.” She says, automatically leaning against him as he settles down, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “Otherwise we’ll never sleep.”
“It’s chamomile tea.” He assures her taking a sip of his before pushing hers towards her. “I don’t like this.”
“The tea? Then why did you make yourself some?”
“Not the tea.” He says, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. “The case. I don’t like it.”
She moves her head from his shoulder and looks up at him taking a sip of her own tea. She looks at him curiously, his eyes are fixed on JJ, the other woman fast asleep in her chair. Uncharacteristically dozing off the second they took off.
“Because he’s killing female law enforcement officers?” She asks as she places her hand over his on her thigh, drawing his attention back to her. “JJ and I will be fine, Aaron. We can look after ourselves.”
“I imagine that the four women who are already dead thought the same thing.”
“Aaron-”
“Just...be careful, okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
She looks at him, her eyes fierce, wilfulness licking at her insides. A retort builds in her throat until she registers how worried he looks, a hint of whatever had been occupying his mind earlier at the restaurant still lingering.
“Okay. I’ll be careful.” ____________
Detective Amanda Franklin meets them at the precinct, tired lines under her eyes that give away her exhaustion, the weight of the case on her shoulders since the unsub had sent his letter to the local paper.
“Agent Hotchner?” She says, sticking her hand out to shake his as they are led into the conference room that had been set up for them. “I’m Detective Franklin, thank you so much for coming.”
“No problem Detective Franklin, this is my team Agent’s Jennifer Jareu, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan and David Rossi.”
“Nice to meet you all.” She says, nodding to a male uniformed officer who had followed them all in. “This is Officer Robert Moore, he will be able to help you with anything you need.”
The team all give him a slight nod before turning back to the Detective.
“Shall we begin?”
___________
“I can’t believe we’ve already been here two days.” Emily groans, sitting up and rubbing her face as the alarm cuts through the room, bringing her few hours of sleep to an abrupt end. “It feels like we haven’t made any progress.”
Aaron sits up next to her and leans over to kiss her shoulder, his lips lingering in her bare skin for a little longer than necessary.
“We’ve narrowed things down a little.”
“We’ve discounted all the victim’s husbands as potential unsubs and concluded the guy is in his 40s and has a female boss.” She scoffs. “That doesn’t exactly narrow things down.”
He lays back down, pulling her down with him, and she huffs out a laugh when her shoulder hits his. He kisses the side of her head.
“We’ll get there. We always do.”
She turns in his arms, her hands coming to his chest before she kisses him, one of her hands trailing up to his face, cupping his cheek. His phone rings and she groans again, laying on the bed as he slips out from under her. She grabs his pillow, sinking further into it as her eyes close and she inhales his scent from the hotel pillowcase.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Aaron says, hanging up the phone as he sits back on the edge of the bed.
“Was that Detective Franklin?” She asks, her eyes still closed as she hugs his pillow to her, trying to steal the last few moments of rest.
“Yes. Well...no.” He says. Something in his voice makes her eyes open immediately, and she sits up. She places a hand on his back.
“What do you mean?”
“They just found her body.”
____________
The precinct was in chaos, a new lead detective in charge, Detective Miller, and most of the officers furious, even more desperate than before to catch the man who had now killed their boss. It made delivering the profile hard, no one accepting what they deemed to be a slow handling of the case. Tempers flaring as they explained what they already knew.
“Coffee?”
Emily turns to Officer Moore, a cup in his hand and a small smile on his face as she willingly accepts it.
“Thank you.” She takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the bitterness of it. “Detective Franklin seems like she was popular.”
There’s a flash of something across his face, and she tries to place it but she hears her name being called from across the room. Derek tilting his head towards the conference room they had set up base in and she walks off without thinking about it again.
“What's going on?” She asks as she walks into the room, noting the tension in Aaron’s jaw. The way her boyfriend’s entire body seems rigid, anger practically vibrating off of him.
“The unsub sent another letter to the press.” Derek says, handing her a copy. “It’s threatening you and JJ.”
She looks over to Aaron, sees how he avoids her eye contact and she sighs. “Aaron.”
“We need to make sure you are both protected.” He says, walking past her and out of the room.
“Damn it.” Emily sighs and tries to rub some of the tension from her forehead before she looks at the rest of the team. “I’ll go talk to him.”
He isn’t hard to find. She knows him better than she knows anyone. He’s in the men’s bathroom, and he doesn’t look surprised when she brazenly walks in and locks the main door behind her, ensuring that they can have some privacy.
“Aaron.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She asks, attempting to smile as she walks towards him and places a hand on his arm. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“Don’t tell me everything is going to be ok. Someone who has already killed 5 women has threatened you Em.” He looks at her. Her Aaron breaking through the Hotch facade he usually wore so well.
“We’re in a police precinct. Surrounded by cops. JJ and I will be fine.” She looks at him, her hand moving to cup his neck, her thumb stroking his jaw. “I’ll be fine.”
His eyebrows briefly furrow, and his eyes unfocus slightly, no longer looking at her. She knew that look well, he had realised something, an idea planting in his brain.
“What is it?”
“He’s a cop. The unsub is a cop.”
____________
Detective Miller is unsure of their theory at first, pushing back on it no matter how much evidence they give him. He eventually sits down, his head in his hands, as it starts to dawn on him that they are right.
“How would we narrow it down?” He asks, his voice strained as he considers that this was done by one of their own.
“Someone who is single.” Derek says. “Potentially divorced.”
“He would have been passed up for promotions.” Spencer says. “Probably an officer who has been at the same rank for years.”
“Rob’s divorced, his wife left him 2 years ago. He’s been an officer as long as I’ve known him.”
“Rob? Officer Moore?” JJ asks, looking back out to the bullpen trying to spot him.
“He was passed up for detective more than once. The higher ups don’t think he’s the right material for it.” Detective Miller says, standing up as he runs his hand over his head, messing up his hair.
“And who made detective over him last time?” Emily asks.
“Detective Franklin.”
“He’s our guy.” Aaron says. “Where is he?”
“He went home an hour ago, claimed he was sick.”
Emily is already calling Penelope, asking for as much information as possible on Officer Moore, asking for an address, anything that could help them find him. Aaron listens as Emily repeats the address Penelope gives her, her eyes flicking to him in a way he can’t quite read, something close to confusion on her face. The team move without speaking, a dance they had perfected long ago as they pull on their bulletproof vests, readying themselves for what came next.
“I want you two to stay here.” Aaron says, securing the last strap on his vest as he turns to JJ and Emily.
“What?” Emily says, frowning at him. “Aaron, absolutely not.”
JJ doesn’t argue with him, a nod and something close to relief on her face as she starts to remove her jacket. He grabs Emily’s wrist and pulls her to the side, affording themselves a small bit of privacy in a room full of other people. He notices a look on Spencer’s face, a twitch of his eyebrows as Derek goes over the plan again, but he pays it no attention.
“Emily, please.” He asks, his face stern but his voice begging her.
“Aaron.”
“I am asking you as the man who loves you.” He says. “Don’t make me tell you as your boss.”
She stares at him, fury burning in her eyes as she clenches her jaw before she nods at him briefly, a look on her face that tells him he hasn’t heard the last of this. That she will tell him exactly what she thinks about him using his position of power against her later.
He’ll take it, because it means she’s safe.
____________
“It doesn’t make sense.” Spencer practically whispers, his voice carrying further than it usually would in the quiet SUV.
“What do you mean Reid?” Derek asks, looking in the rear view mirror at the other man.
“Everything he’s done has been public. Where he’s left the bodies. The letters to the press. Why has he gone underground now?”
“He doesn’t want to get caught.” Dave says, looking at Spencer.
“But he does.” Spencer says, meeting Dave’s eyes. “We profiled him as a narcissist. He’s so sure of his actions he wants to tell everyone. He wants the glory.”
“He’s not going down quietly.” Aaron says, agreeing with Spencer. “We’ve got to go back.” He turns the car around without further comment, flicking the sirens on as he starts to drive faster.
“Hotch, what are you doing?”
“I don’t think he ever left the precinct.”
____________
Robert Moore is pointing a gun at Emily when they arrive, his eyes fixed on her and his hand steady, no nerves in sight as he threatens a federal agent in a room full of police officers.
“Robert.” Aaron says, the steadiness of his voice a surprise even to him. Emily’s eyes meet his, no fear shining in them even as she looks down the barrel of a gun. “You don’t want to do this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Agent Hotchner.” He says, a small smirk on his face. “I do.”
She’s dead before she hits the ground. Her life, everything she had ever done and been, snuffed out in a second. He gets no chance to say goodbye. No chance to remind her how much he loved her, how she had made his life better. Made him better.
She was just gone.
He hoped she knew how much he meant it when he whispered how much he loved her in bed that morning, her answer a laugh against his lips as he kissed her in the bed they shared. He thinks of the ring he never got to give her that he had been keeping in his nightstand, hidden among the socks she had paired for him when it was her turn to do the laundry.
For a second, the longest of his life, the world stops. All he can see is her, the way she crumbles to the ground, hitting it with such a force Aaron swears that he feels the ground shake. He’s stuck, frozen in the worst moment of his life until he hears the crack of Derek’s gun, only seconds too late to save Emily, Moore falling to the floor in the same way she had.
Aaron is with her, by her side before he registers it.
“Em.”
His hands shake as he lifts her, her skin still warm and her dark eyes unseeing, the sparkle that usually shone back at him gone.
“Oh, sweetheart no.”
He’s vaguely aware of the reactions of the rest of the team, JJ’s sobbing, Derek’s yells of anger and hurt, the way Dave shepherds everyone else out of the room, the locals in shock at what they had just seen one of their own do.
Aaron holds her to him, unable to feel the blood seeping into his shirt, or his knees through his pants. He desperately tries to take stock of the feeling of her skin whilst it still held warmth, the feel of her hair between his fingers, his lips against hers.
He knew from experience those were the memories that fade first.
He doesn’t know much time has passed by the time he’s wrenched up off the ground, Derek holding him in place as he tries to fight him, to get back to her.
“She’s gone, Hotch.” He feels Derek’s tears against his shoulder and hears them in his voice, and they burn him from the inside out. “Aaron, she’s gone.”
He doesn’t remember much after that.
____________
It takes them a day to work everything out, to get her body released from the local coroner so they can make the journey home. Aaron had spoken to Jessica, told her the grim news over the phone when he broke down the night before. The sight of her make up bag in the ensuite of their shared hotel room knocking the air from his lungs.
He hadn’t told Jack yet, had asked Jessica not to either, knowing the news should come from him. Another woman in his son’s young life gone too soon, taken because Aaron couldn’t protect her.
The team are all in a state of shock, sitting as far away from each other as possible, silent tears on their faces as they stare blankly ahead of them.
They had buried Emily before, and they would now have to do it again. This time there would be no reprieve, no coming back from the dead. It was just over.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Aaron looks up from the scotch in his hand to look at Dave, the older man taking a seat opposite him as he nods towards the glass in Aaron’s hand. He hadn’t taken a sip yet. Simply staring at the drink, knowing it won’t help, but wondering if maybe, after everything, his father had the right idea after all.
Maybe feeling nothing at all was better than this.
“Dave.”
“You need to speak to your son when you get home, you should probably be sober for that conversation.”
“Maybe we can save the lecture until after the body of the woman I love is removed from the cargo hold.” Aaron says, his voice emotionless as he stares at his friend, he stands, leaving the untouched drink on the table, and walks away without another word.
____________
Jack cries himself to sleep, understanding all too well what death meant, that Emily wouldn’t be coming home. Jessica stays with them, tears on her own cheeks as she watches them go through this again, the loss of a woman that both Jack and Aaron loved dearly.
Aaron sleeps with Jack in his bed that first night, both of them cramped onto the single mattress, unable to bring himself to sleep in his and Emily’s room. Her smell perminating out from under the door, which made even walking past it hard. A punch in the gut that stole the air from his lungs, hollowing out his chest.
When Aaron wakes in the morning Jack is already up, over by the small desk in his room as he whispers. Aaron looks over and sees his son’s back is to him, a candle lit in front of him.
“Mommy, you’ll have to show Emily around.” Jack whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “She likes new places, she told me once, but I don't want her to get lost.”
Aaron has to close his eyes to force the wave of emotion back, tears springing to his eyes that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to.
“Emily, Daddy is very sad but he’s trying to be ok for me. I’ll look after him I promise.”
Aaron knows that they’ll be looking after each other.
____________
He asks for time alone with her before the funeral starts, one last moment between the two of them that should have one of countless memories, but is instead their last.
She looks different to the last time he saw her, less pale, clearly the work of the staff at the funeral home he had chosen. He wants to touch her, to reach out and move her hair back into place like he had done so many times before, but he hesitates, his fingers twitching above her casket.
Aaron didn’t want to remember her being cold.
“I brought you something.” He says, digging into the pocket of his pants, a small velvet box in his hand. He opens it to look at the ring inside. “I was going to propose that night we were called away for the case. I have no idea if you figured it out, I’m sure you knew it was coming.” He swallows against the lump in his throat, tears flooding his eyes as he looks at the ring one last time before snapping the box shut. He places it in the casket, finally touching her to lift her hand, placing the box beneath it. “I wish I would have known your answer. Jack was sure you were going to say yes, but he has always been the optimist in the family.”
He looks back at her face, somehow still beautiful even in death, and his vision is blurred by his tears.
“I love you, Em. Nothing will ever change that.”
#hotchniss#hotchniss fanfic#hotchniss fanfiction#aaron x emily#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#aaron hotchner angst#angst#major character death#so much angst#tw: alcohol mention#canon typical violence#this may be worse than riptide#somehow#I? have no excuse#a sliding doors type fic#butterfly effect type stuff#Chapter 2 is...different#remember when all I used to write was fluff?#lol
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ML Boys Headcanons with a Pregnant MC? 💟
Hey dear. There are many requests about Eloise's pregnancy. So I'm gonna continue this as a series! Well... Y'know, it's also because business life can be very busy sometimes.
Warning: When these headcanons were written, it was assumed that Eloise was in her mid-twenties and had a more mature character. Because I think that her character presented to us in the game isn’t mature enough due to her age and is too young to have children. And since it wasn't specifically mentioned in the question, except of the Neil route, Eloise is still a vampire's chalice.
There is also serious confusion in the game about pregnancy. According to Beliath, Leaths can't have children, but we know that Beliath's father was also an ordinary Leath. Therefore while writing the headcanons, I assume that Leaths can have children only with another race (including humankinds) other than vampires, hybrids like Aaron and Beliath can have children with anyone, Iomlans can have children even if the other party is Leath.
Enjoy while reading! Headcanons are under the cut!
HEADCANONS ABOUT ML BOYS WITH PREGNANT MC: PART I
VLADIMIR
■ One of the things that was believed to be true among the vampires was the rumors that the Leaths could not have children. There have been rare cases in history where Leaths have had children, but usually these have happened after different interracial relationships. He had never thought until he heard those words that a human, especially a chalice, could become pregnant.
“You’ll certainly be a very strict father, m’lord. At least as long as we don't have a daughter.”
He nearly fainted when he found out that his dearest was pregnant. Of course it wasn't because he didn't want to have children, since the day he had turned into a vampire he had just always thought that he would never have a family again and that he had to get used to being alone.
“Me? A strict father? Hell no! Well... Maybe a little.”
■ Vladimir was a little hesitant about announcing Eloise's pregnancy to the other inhabitants of the manor. He especially didn't want that stupid duo to bother Eloise with unnecessary comments. Well, there's a good saying, God laughs when people make plans. The news of the pregnancy spread so suddenly and quickly within the manor that he had no way of predicting that. He just wanted to announce the pregnancy to Aaron and Raph' first. At least, that was the plan until Aaron yelled like "Wait, wait, wait, is Eloise pregnant? Fuck I'm gonna be uncle! Hahaha!" shortly after arriving to the parlor. It was his fault for forgetting to take Aaron’s goddamn sense of smell and instincts into account. Geez, Beliath coming in with bewilderment, Ethan's stupid implications, Ivan's curious gaze from the door with no idea what was going on, Raphael's silent chuckles… It was totally chaos. CHAOS! DO YOU HEAR ME?!
■ During the first months of Eloise's pregnancy, Vladimir began to fear falling asleep. It was risky for a human to carry a vampire's baby, and he worried that Eloise might need help while he was asleep. It really took her time to convince him to sleep again.
■ It was the first time that Vladimir sincerely asked Ethan for help, as Eloise had to drink human blood along with human food throughout her pregnancy. And surprisingly for the first time, Ethan agreed to help him without grumbling. During her pregnancy, that maybe not so stupid duo brought blood for her with the help of the blood-taking set. It was the first and probably the last time Vladimir regretted his thoughts of kicking Ethan out of the manor.
■ Although Vladimir was genuinely afraid to drink Eloise's blood at first, he drank from her as rarely as possible throughout pregnancy.
■ The happiest moment of Vladimir during her pregnancy was when she told him that if they had a daughter, she wanted to name her after his mother. This may not mean a thing to anyone, but there were no words to describe how valuable these words were for someone like him who lived with the traces of the past and had so much regrets. That day, perhaps for the first time, he cried without fear of being seen crying as he hugged Eloise and her belly.
■ Unfortunately, Vladimir's jealous nature didn't leave him even throughout Eloise's pregnancy. Of course it was a relief that Eloise was having a good time with the others. But whenever one of them touched her belly to feel the baby's movements or held out her hand so Eloise could get up, his displeasure was written all over his face. What the heck, did that arrogant peacock wink at himself as he helped Eloise up? How dare he!
■ It was just daylight when Eloise went into labor and Vladimir was so nervous that he couldn't even remember how he had let Ethan know. His face must have turned pale at some point, for neither Beliath nor Raphael would let him go near her. All he could do was sit in the hallway with his back against the wall, listening to Eloise cry, until Aaron came to him with the most beautiful angel in the world in his arms. Vladimir's hands were shaking so much that he was afraid of hurting the baby as he picked her up. “Welcome to our world, my little lady. Welcome...”
#ml vladimir#moonlight lovers#moonlightlovers#moonlight lovers headcanon#moonlight lovers headcanons#headcanon#ml sfw#beemoov
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just started reading the magisterium series and had no idea who alex strike was when i read your post. then ofc i got to the part where I met him and i really liked him too so now im disappointed but also glad cause im never gonna have to get attached to this character.
Oh no I didn't consider this I didn't think to tag or warn anyone about spoilers for things, my apologies Nonsie. I figured it was fine given that the series has been out for so long and it's not very well known, but I hope you enjoy it regardless of the accidental spoilers I gave you (not everyone cares about them but just in case that was my bad)
But there are still plenty of other secrets and twists in the series that I did not spoil, so there's that!
Back to your point though, Alex was my favorite character in the first books I got very attached to him. He just pops in and out, but he's this cool older figure just like haha you kids, good luck with all this fucking sand.
I don't think I paid as much attention to him when I first read the series several years ago because I was closer to Call/Tamara/Aaron's age and focused on them more, but now I'm definitely closer to Alex and was like yes that's the exact reaction and teasing grin I'd have if I walked in on the new kids suffering in this room of sand. Like just the older brother figure is so nice, the movies he played with all the changes to the Star Wars franchise and how nice he was. And then boom traitor :(
But perhaps I have spared you the agony I experienced!! So that could be a plus that you won't get as attached and have to read through the reveal.
Either way, I hope you have fun reading the series! There are definitely some parts that I question, but sometimes you just gotta be like "okay idk what the fuck that was but I'm going to have a good time regardless." That was my mentality the entirety of the last book tbh. There are parts of the series that I quite like and find fascinating, other's just ??? but I have a fondness for it as a whole
If you ever wanna talk about it though I am 100% open to doing so! I'm curious what made you want to start/start reading the series.
#the magisterium#alex strike#quil's queries#nonsie#love is stored in the call/tamara/aaron trifecta#the thing is that they.#that's it that's my point#also shout out to master rufus being queer#his husband is mentioned like 3 times in the whole series but I still think about him#and then that one queer couple in the very last book that was mentioned like once#thinking about those guys too#but that's besides the point#i hope you have fun nonsie!#they're fairly quick reads. at least for me#literally read the last book in one sitting after dinner
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Hello There! I'm so glad to have found your tumblr! I love your headcanons so much! Your writting is great and I can really imagine the characters doing/reacting like that in the canon! You got them pretty well! 💕
I hope you get more apreciation, because you truly have a talent for this! 💖
Now, about my request... I always wonder how would the Moonlight Lovers boys react (and possible relationship headcanon) to a Female MC that is an Assassin/Hitgirl? A woman that knows how to fight with weapons, shoot and stealth ways off eliminating/killing people?
If you don't mind doing this, of course!
Hope you have a nice day and take care! (And don't forget to drink water) 💙
ML boys with an assassin MC
That's a good idea tho, in any case here's the request and please don't forget to drink water too <3
PD:It's a little bit long so click more if you want to read :3
Vladimir:
He had heard about these type of jobs, he had lived for a long time and probably has spoken with people that worked on these; but his girlfriend?
His first reaction is to hold her shoulders and shake her while his voice shivers with fear "Are you okay? That's a dangerous job!"
Vladimir is very protective and he'll ask her to quit and do anything but be safe. If he can't do it he'll just sigh and stay quiet.
It takes a while for him to get used to the idea but once he does it Vladimir gives her some advices about how to be safe and handles her some bandages just in case that things are out of control.
He doesn't go with her though, Vladimir just waits for his girlfriend to return but always asks for time and place, if Eloïse doesn't return by the time that she said he'll go out personally to take her back, without minding if the job is done or not.
Anyway Vladimir will listen to every work day (or night) that she has. They would sit at Vladimir's bed and he'll listen without interrupting (maybe he'll make a face of displeasure if Vladimir hears something that he doesn't like).
Every time he'll beg her to leave the job, it's dangerous and doesn't want to loose her one day.
Beliath:
When she told him about her job Belaith only felt curiosity. Like "Oh yeah? What type of guys you slide off? Have anybody discovered you?"
Indeed he's curious and wouldn't hesitate to make questions about the job. He's like a proud parent (somehow) and really feels good to see his girlfriend being strong enough to protect herself.
But don't confuse this with ignorance, he knows that is a hard job and over all; dangerous. He'll ask his girlfriend if she's doing good and when Beliath sees any type of injury he runs to get an aid kit and take care of everything himself or he'll ask Ethan to do it.
Wants to know everything about the jobs and if he sees that they are very dangerous he'll ask Eloïse if he can go too, just to make sure that everything's okay.
Beliath wouldn't intervene in any case, he just looks at her with a proud face, however if things are getting a little bit out of control he wouldn't doubt on getting involved, getting to the point that he doesn't mind on getting dirty if that means to protect who he loves the most.
He would ask Eloïse to train together in hand to hand combat, just to make sure that she can handle everything. As I said he cares about his girlfriend and believes that she's a strong woman, is just that sometimes he can't but worry a little bit.
Raphael:
He has a mini panic attack but hides it very well. it's a dangerous job and sometimes it doesn't end well by both parts...
Like Vladimir he heard about this job and felt that it was needed a strong mind to take someone's else life or that's needed to have a cold heart to don't think about the loved ones of the person's life that she just take away.
Now Raphael is all the time worried about your safety, his reaction in very similar to Vladimir but is more persuasive and gives some hints to indicate how much he wants Eloïse to quit and to be safe.
Sometimes he'll cry while hugging her because he's very worried and scared about what could happen if someday someone discovers her job.
If he can't make her quit Raphael will teacher her other ways of fighting or how to use her senses to be safe, also giving some advices about how to act without being suspicious.
Raphael needs to know when she's leaving and when she's coming back, not to be toxic is just that he needs to be prepared when the worst happens. If she doesn't return he'll ask for Aaron to seek her and bring her back, reminding him to don't risk himself too much.
When she returns he'll be the happiest person in the world, while making sure that she's alright Raphael's voice will ask gently if she needs anything.
Eloïse can tell him about her day/night of work without the fear to be interrupted, once she finishes a soft kiss will land at her lips, followed with a hug.
Aaron:
Aaron isn't scared or anything, he's just curious about how she ended up in that job. He used to be a mercenary and has quite experience in similar jobs and knows that something must happen for someone to end up in there.
He's more about asking questions like "How did you find that job? How you work?" Aaron understands that there's a difference between Eolise's job and his old occupations and wants to understand it. Once he does it then he'll start to worry about her safety, knowing that being a hitgirl involves a type of risk.
Unlike others this guy knows that he can't do much to stop her, instead of putting his energy in convincing her to quit Aaron just decides to help her and even train Eloïse.
Aaron might go with her sometimes and serve as a guardian, watching her back and kind of working as a team. Of course he doesn't want to get in the way and leaves his girlfriend be, just entering into action when it's really needed.
Don't get fooled; that Aaron leaves her be and helps Eloïse it doesn't mean that he's really pleased with the job.
If things are out of control he'll transform into his wolf form and scare the shit out of that person, perhaps Eloïse needs to ran behind them but at least she's alive (or at least that's what Aaron thinks).
Ivan:
He's more surprised than scared. She takes the bad guys? Like the videogames?
Then Ivan realizes that this is the real life and now the baby is worried "Has something happened? Are you hurt?" He hasn't live long enough to face these type of risks and acts more like a normal human would do.
Once his girlfriend calms him down or at least answers his questions he'll be impressed and proud; knowing that she's able to manage things by herself and being able to be cool makes him smile.
In any case Ivan doesn't go with her at the missions/work. First of all because he believes that he'll screw things up and that can put you in danger. Also Ivan doesn't want to control her life, if she's sure that she can do those things then he trusts her.
Really enjoys hearing the work experiences, it makes him feel like a child hearing someone else's stories. Still he's very worried but glad that she make it out without being hurt.
I have the feeling that Ivan would ask to be trained with these weapons, just in case that he needs to use them and also to spend some time together with his girlfriend.
Ethan:
Literally his response would be something like "What the fu-"
Ethan can't imagine the girl that pulled him out of his depression shell to be an actual killer and is paid for that, getting into dangerous situations but then turns into the sweetest person that he has ever met.
Doesn't make questions about how she get the job, some people´s past may be dark or with things that shouldn't be revealed. However if she wants to speak about it Ethan is pleased to hear everything.
Since he knows how to use guns it will be a new couple-thing to train with it and see who makes the best shots (until Vladimir gets mad with them for breaking a window lmao)
Doesn't mind getting a little bit dirty if that helps, he isn't very sensible to these type of things and if he can help then is better.
In case that Eloïse gets hurt he'll heal her right there and when they return to the mansion Ethan becomes a protective guy, always making sure that she's comfortable.
Probably teacher Eloïse a little bit about medicine just if she's alone and needs some medical procedure.
Neil:
She's a killer? Great. Want me to hear about how I make Vladimir kill your parents, Eloïse? No but he doesn't make a huge deal about the hitgirl thing. Like Ethan he's more surprised that the cute face that he saw was actually something very dark.
Despite being surprised Neil doesn't make a huge scandal and acts like nothing ever happened, just asking if the job is doing well and if she has any troubles with it.
This man is old and has learned to use multiple weapons (even if he prefers to fight with his hands) and doesn't hesitate to show his knowledge to her, always making sure that she's ready for the worst scenario even possible.
May go to the work with her, just to see how's his girlfriend doing but don't get in the way (usually) and if Neil sees that she's not doing that good now be prepared for him to turn into a trainer.
Does this because he really loves the freedom that she has, but he can't leave her in the real word unprepared (How could you leave a child in a pool without teaching it how to swim?)
It's very supportive and doesn't ask her to quit, instead makes sure that she's stronger and looks like a proud dad when she achieves anything.
#moonlight lovers neil#moonlight lovers headcanons#moonlight lovers raphael#moonlight lovers beliath#moonlight lovers ethan#moonlight lovers vladimir#moonlight lovers#moonlight lovers ivan#moonlight lovers aaron#moonlight lovers eloise
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We Are Definitely on a Date Right Now
Hey y’all! @peachpitfics gave me the idea to do this and I needed an excuse to write something other than angst :)
If you would like to be asked to my tag list, send a reply/ask/dm!
Summary: Sequel to “Are We on a Date Right Now?”
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Aaron Hotchner
Warnings: lots and lots and lots of smut
Word Count: 1.3k
Tagging: @peachpitfics @wheelsup @cloudy-reid
Read on AO3
The original
Aaron and Spencer had waited six months to tell everyone about their relationship. They had wanted to keep it quiet so they wouldn’t have to deal with Strauss and the fraternization rules until they were ready to. When their relationship was stable and they decided they were ready to tell the team, they were shocked (though they shouldn’t have been, it’s a team of profilers for god’s sake) that the team already knew (except for Rossi, he had found out months ago and helped them hide it ever since). In fact, there had been a bet going as to how long they’d been dating. JJ won. They all shared the story of how each and every one of them had found out.
Rossi
David Rossi was the first to find out, obviously. They’d had a weekend off about four months ago. Rossi had decided he would treat himself to a nice dinner out at his favorite Italian restaurant. He also may have recommended Aaron take his date there, and he was curious who it was. Aaron had asked him for the recommendation anxiously, which was out of character from him. It wasn’t like Aaron to be nervous about going on a date unless it was someone he really cared about. David had tried his hardest to get information on who it was, but his attempts were futile.
He was utterly shocked when he arrived at the restaurant and saw Spencer Reid basically sitting in Aaron’s lap. Instead of sitting at his own table and watching from afar, he made his way over to the table the pair were at to question them.
“Aaron,” Rossi made his presence known as he sat down across from them.
The two men jumped apart, Reid bumping his legs on the underside of the tabletop and spilling some of their drinks. Reid turned and looked to see who had interrupted them. When he realized it was Dave, he jumped again and slid off Aaron’s lap, sitting next to him, blushing, and smoothing down his shirt. The pair were panting.
“Dave,” Aaron acknowledged. “Did you need something or are you just here to spy on me?”
“A little of both, actually I first came to spy on you, but now I have questions.”
“Proceed,” Aaron sighed, waving his had.
“How long has this been going on?”
Spencer answered this time. “About two months. Don’t worry, he’s not holding anything over my head.”
Rossi chuckled. “I wouldn’t think so lowly of him.”
“Anything else, Dave? I’d like to get back to my date,” Aaron replied, obviously trying to usher Rossi along.
“Of course, I just be… over in that direction somewhere,” Rossi said standing and waving his hand vaguely. He spent a long time thinking that night.
JJ
JJ didn’t mean to find out. She had walked into Hotch’s office one day to find the two men sharing a brief and intimate kiss. She was momentarily stunned but they hadn’t noticed her, and she was unwilling to make her presence known. So, she backed out of the doorway and around the corner and waited a few moments before stepping back in to find both men seated in the chairs on either side of the desk discussing files.
“Hotch,” JJ said with hesitance. “We have a case.”
Aaron nodded. “Have everyone meet us in the round table room.”
She nodded back and walked off to let everyone know there was a case. Once everyone was seated in the conference room except for Hotch and Reid, JJ allowed herself to think. She was a little upset that her best friend, her little brother, the godfather of her son, didn’t tell her about his relationship. She reasoned with herself though. The relationship was probably new. There were fraternization policies. The stigma around gay couples in this FBI is high enough, forget about it being with your superior. So, when the pair finally found their way to the briefing, she pushed the encounter to the back of her mind and cleared her face of emotion, forgetting about it for the time being.
Prentiss and Morgan
They were on a case in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania when they noticed. Derek had noticed that the two men had grown closer over the past few months, and he had pointed it out to Emily. There were shared looks and Reid had begun allowing Hotch a casual hand on the shoulder, or a ruffle of his air which was something usually only himself and JJ could get away with. On this case though, it was different. On the plane, he noticed the pair sitting on their couch together, their thighs pressed into each other’s when there was a lot of room left on the couch. They had no reason to be that close.
“Prentiss,” Derek whispered, pointing at Hotch and Reid, “are you seeing this?”
Emily looked over and Derek looked back, but the pair had moved apart.
“Seeing what, Morgan? Hotch and Reid sitting on a couch?”
“I swear to god they were just- you know what? Never mind. It was nothing.”
Later, in the police station, Morgan began paying closer attention to his boss and best friend. He noticed longing glances between the two, Hotch’s hand lingering on the small of Reid’s back for longer than would be socially acceptable for two friends. Every time he noticed it, he tried to point it out to Emily, but every time, by the time she looked over, they were acting normal, like nothing had happened.
It wasn’t until they case was solved and they were spending their last night in the hotel that their suspicions were confirmed. Derek and Emily were sharing a room. They’d had to pair up again. JJ was back in Quantico helping Garcia, Rossi claimed a single room because “I’m the oldest,” (none of them objected, Rossi snores) and Reid had gone with Hotch, claiming he wanted to talk about the newest paper he was writing.
This particular hotel had balconies. Morgan and Prentiss had raided the mini bar in their room and taken their findings to enjoy on the balcony in the warm summer evening. They didn’t realize, though, that Hotch and Reid were doing the same a few rooms over, just without the alcohol. Derek and Emily’s conversation had come to an end and they were enjoying the relative silence of the night when two familiar voiced wafted over to them.
“I love you, Aaron.”
“I love you too, baby. I can’t wait to go home and see Jack.”
Derek shot straight up and whispered, “Emily, you can’t tell me you didn’t hear that.”
Emily looked over at him, equally as shocked. “I guess you’re not going completely crazy, Derek.”
Garcia
Penelope found out in a completely unexpected way. She had been nestled in the corner of a quiet café, reading a racy romance novel she had found in a thrift store and drinking a piping hot cappuccino when in walked Aaron and Jack Hotchner and Spencer Reid. She didn’t notice them until Aaron’s loud, assertive voice floated out into the room when he ordered for the three of them.
She “hid” behind her book, hoping to spy on the trio, curious about what they were doing together. She was excited when they had sat at a table close enough to her that she would be able to hear some of their conversation, but they were facing away from her so she could stay hidden.
She was surprised when Aaron and Spencer sat very close to each other with Jack across from them. She heard Spencer ask Jack about how his week was at school and almost spit out her coffee when Aaron slid his arm around Spencer’s waist. She was even more surprised when Spencer didn’t pull away but leaned into Aaron’s shoulder and turned to give him a kiss on the cheek.
Garcia spent the rest of that day lost in a world of slashy fantasies (that were definitely not appropriate, especially considering who they were about).
#aaron hotchner x spencer reid#aaron hotchner/spencer reid#hotchreid#heid#fluff#in excessive amounts#aaron hotchner#spener reid#david rossi#jennifer jareau#derek morgan#emily prentiss#penelope garcia#i know this is a relly cliche fic idea#but its cute#i love writing emily prentiss#i kinda just go#hey thats my name#and i find that hilarious
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I posted 237 times in 2021
59 posts created (25%)
178 posts reblogged (75%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 3.0 posts.
I added 157 tags in 2021
#tokyo revengers - 30 posts
#tokyorev - 27 posts
#gabby reacts - 25 posts
#gabby reacts to anime - 25 posts
#spencer reid - 12 posts
#emily prentiss - 9 posts
#sub spencer reid - 8 posts
#criminal minds - 8 posts
#aaron hotchner - 7 posts
#answered asks - 6 posts
Longest Tag: 50 characters
#like the editing rly added to the *experience* lol
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
The main issues with the CM fandom
Right, I’ll keep this simple and sweet. Why is it those who write dom spencer mostly use Spencer Reid’s trauma from prison and the show in general to make him more dominant.
Two major problems with this: trauma doesn’t make you more dominant, and those who use it as an excuse are sexualizing his trauma. Listen, I get you guys think the shit he went through in prison and the previous things he’s experienced would make him rough, but it wouldn’t.
From my own experience of trauma, and though it’s nothing like Spencer’s, I can honestly say the way you treat it is absolutely disgusting. The shit he went through in prison, which I only mention because it’s the main thing everyone uses for his dominance, would make him still be a submissive. If anything, and I understand it makes him process things differently, he would still be the same as before: submissive.
It would’ve be about the scenes, dynamics are never just the scenes, they’re the dynamic. He might have anxiety attacks from what he experienced, flashbacks, ya know, the normal thing one experiences after trauma.
There’s a reason I never write him, and it’s that him as a switch doesn’t fit, it never has. There are two things that piss me off more about sexualizing his trauma: people use it for the wrong reasons, and it’s so normalized it takes someone on the opposite end of the spectrum to realize something isn’t right about it.
I think that’s all I’ll say on it, and you can argue withcha mom, not me, but no arguing in the comments, none of that shit, got it?
73 notes • Posted 2021-07-23 23:29:09 GMT
#4
Just a friendly reminder Ryan Lucan has very submissive eyes. I'm just saying, he would ask to be pegged.
86 notes • Posted 2021-09-23 20:30:58 GMT
#3
“Know Your Place, Damn Fool.”
Has: Pegging, Monsterfucking, Brat Sukuna, Handcuffs, Sex Toys, Strap-ons, Overstimulation, Femdom, Subspace, Handjobs/Blowjobs, Anal Fingering, Degrading Kink, Mommy Kink, Sadism, Masochism, Cock Slaping, Choking/Breath Play, Edging/Orgasm Denial, Finger Sucking, Sukuna passes out at the end.
♘
“And what’s got you in a mood now?” Sukuna asked in a taunting voice, which she rolled her eyes at.
“You, brat. You annoy me. This is the third time you’ve either ripped the clothes I’ve given you, which were my old ones, or you’ve gone through my things.” Amari answered as she pointed to the clothes in the trash.
“You gave me a body, now you have to deal with it.” He reminded, which gave her a sinister idea.
“You’re right, I did give you a body. You know, there’s this tactic that puts men in their place, are you curious?” She asked as she moved to the closet, though You Man stayed quiet for a moment.
“Whatever you have planned won’t work. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one in control here, Amari. I’m the King of Curses.” He boasted as she came out of the closet with a bag.
“Oh, I know, but even the King of Curses needs to be taken down a peg or two. So I ask again, are you curious about what I could do to make you learn your place?” She asked firmly, which he hummed.
“Sure, why not? And when you’re underneath me, I’ll remind you of your place,” he moved toward the bed and stripped down to nothing. As he got onto the bed, she took her clothes off down to her bra and reached inside her bag. Grabbing something out of the bag, she reached for the handcuffs first. “You’re not putting them onto me.”
“Aww, why not? I even bought two pairs for all four wrists,” she teased before putting them on the nightstand. As she fastened the first pair on, she reached for the second pair. “Break either of them and I’ll have to punish you, got it?” She asked before moving off of him.
“Ooh- yes ma’am,” he rolled his eyes, but she paid him no mind and reached to get her harness. Putting them on, she adjusted them around her waist and thighs. “Wait, what’s that for?”
“Assuming you don’t recognize it, this is a harness for a dildo. I’m going to peg you until I think you’ve learned your lesson.” She said as she turned around to grab one of her larger dildos. Admittedly, it was 9” x 6”, so the girth was way wider than average.
“Why is it that big? That’s not gonna go in me, is it?” Now she could hear the fear in his voice, and it made her cackle at his voice. “Stop laughing, it’s not funny.”
“It is, though. Don’t worry, it’s only nine inches long and six inches in girth. I’ve even made sure it’s closer to how big you are. Besides, I’ll prep you first before I fuck you,” she assured before moving to the nightstand to lube her hand. “And I want you to feel it all.”
Though he crossed his legs, she quickly pied them both open again. Slowly sticking her fingers inside his ass, she kept an eye on his facial reactions. She could see him squirm around, though it wouldn’t last. “It feels weird,” he whispered, but she smiled.
“I know, I just have to find it,” she muttered before using her two fingers to search for his prostate. “It should be right around-.”
“Ah-!” He gasped suddenly, which she chuckled at his reaction. Thrusting her fingers inside him quickly, the breathless noises falling from his lips couldn’t be hidden. “U-Untie me, brat!” He tried pleading, though it didn’t work at all.
“I haven’t even gotten to fucking you yet, and you’re already wanting me to stop? What happened to that curiosity about how a woman can put a man in his place?” She taunted as she continued thrusting her fingers into his ass. Continuing to brush her fingers over his prostate made him groan suddenly.
“Sl- ah- slow down-fuck-,” he couldn’t put himself together enough to give her a genuine reaction.
“Slow down? I haven’t even fucked you yet. I’m just playing with your prostate, Sukuna. What, are you getting close to coming? It would be kinda pathetic if you came without me touching either of your dicks.” She knew the degradation would be something to set him off, and she loved making him stutter from pleasure.
“Let me go, you skank!” He wanted to get out of the handcuffs, but he couldn’t.
“Mistress,” she corrected as she continued alternating her fingers against his prostate. “Call me Mistress, or Mommy, either one works.” Knowing this would’ve been a long process for him to learn, she kept an eye on his reactions.
“I’m not calling you that,” he breathed out, though she didn’t like that answer. Pressing her fingers against his prostate again, she slowly rubbed the spot repeatedly, slowly, but repeatedly. Hearing him trying to muffle his groans, she stopped suddenly. “Hey!”
“Hey yourself, baby. I told you you could either call me Miss or Mistress, Mommy if you’re down with it.” She reminded with ease, though he shook his head. “I’ll leave you here, high and dry,” she answered before starting to move away.
“Don’t-,” he said with ease, which she chuckled.
“Then don’t stop me again, got it?” She asked with a stern tone, followed immediately by her slapping his thighs. Hearing himself moan, he stopped himself halfway, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on it, but she did. “You little masochist. How cute.”
“I’m not a masochist, don’t call me that,” as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted her to hit him again. Using her free hand, she slapped his dicks this time, one by one. Instead of hearing him try to restrain himself, a whorish moan escaped before he could realize it.
“I mean, I could easily whip your thighs until you cry, if I wanted to. I wonder how many licks it would be before you beg me to touch you again. Either way, I think I’ll still get to pegging you before I do anything else,” as she removed her fingers from his hole, she moved off the bed and went to her nightstand. Putting enough lube on the toy, she could tell Sukuna grew anxious, even to the point of pressing his legs together.
Hoping it would alleviate the tension growing, it did nothing, which made her laugh. Moving back between his legs, she thought for a moment before reaching her hand for one of his dicks. “I wonder what would happen if I played with one and not the other?”
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117 notes • Posted 2021-11-27 19:23:47 GMT
#2
treating eating you out as a privilege for Spencer so he spends time begging and begging you to eat you out
eventually you've conditioned him to want to eat you out as much as he wants permission to cum
Okay but hear me out-
He'd wrap both his arms around your thighs and continue eating. It really sticks out with the idea of "I'll eat until I'm full"
But if you told him to slow down, he'd probably speed up out of spite. He knows he'll get punished but to hell with it all, ya know?
And his punishment would either be milking or overstim until he has a dry orgasm. Maybe until he cries, who knows?
And he wouldn't apologize, he would ask to eat you out again, knowing he would overstep it, not care. It would boost his confidence, yk? Make his dick jump, maybe some whimpers as be gyrates his hips against the bed, trying to get himself off.
But you notice, tell him to stop if he doesn't want to get punished. But brat!Spencer? FAWK all that, would probably get punished by a fucking machine.
I'm rambling, my fault... You get the point.
130 notes • Posted 2021-08-26 02:24:11 GMT
#1
04. (NSFW)
CW: Choking, Hickeys, Riding, Fingering, Oral Sex (m receiving), Mistress honorifics, Mommy honorifics, Ma’am honorifics, Scratching, Sub!Spencer Reid, Domme!OC, praise kink, degredation.
♞
"I'm going to give you thirty seconds to be in my room, fully naked." She moved out of the way of the door and let him inside. Seeing as his eyes still showed desperation, he quickly stepped inside. She waited thirty seconds like she said she would, then went to her room.
Everything but his boxers were off, and it seemed like he was self-conscious. "I thought I told you to take everything off, no exceptions." She reminded as she pointed to his boxers. Peeling off her shirt, she walked closer to him.
"I know, Ma'am, but I-," he started, yet she just didn't want to hear him anymore. Kiara pulled him close by his waist and kept her hands there while kissing him. He didn't know where to put his hands, so he kept them in front of his bulge.
"Do me a favor next time: listen to your mistress when you're ordered to. Do you understand?" She asked in a low tone, which he whined and nodded. "Good," while she talked, she slipped her hands into his boxers. One hand went to his dick, which he jolted from the sensation, yet the other hand went to his side.
"Mmh- wait," he broke away from the kiss, and it looked like he contemplated something. "Can I take your clothes off, please?" It was adorably hot how he asked for everything, even if he hadn't realized she already gave him permission.
"Of course you can, baby boy. Take my clothes off," she ordered, which his hands fumbled to her bra first. Unclasping the hook, her boobs dropped, and he loved the sight of it. His hands toured her stomach, everything from the stretch marks and down.
Running his fingers on the hem of her shorts, he dipped his index fingers under the waistband before sliding her shorts down her legs. What the seductive part was he kept eye contact the entire time.
When her shorts were at her ankles, Spencer Reid was on his knees. He had a pleading look in his eyes, like he wanted something but needed to beg for it. "Go on, tell me what you want, baby boy. If not, I can't please you the way I want to."
"Can I taste you, Mistress?" The most submissive look in his eyes made him hard to resist.
"Ooh, I would let you, but you haven't taken these off, yet," she bent down to grab his hands. Once she had a light grip on his hands, she slid them up her legs, then her thighs, and stopped at her underwear. "So be a good boy and take them off for me."
Once again, he nodded as a response before pulling them down for her. "Stand up and get on the bed," as much as she enjoyed seeing him on his knees, she would rather fuck him than have him begging, not right now.
Quickly following her orders, he got onto the bed. Laying down on the bed, she crawled on top of him but didn't put her bodyweight onto him. Lightly grabbing his throat, she leaned toward his ear, not to his mouth yet. "Be a good boy for me, will you? I would hate to punish you on your first scene."
"Yes, ma'am," he whined, unconsciously rolling his hips under her.
"Good, but let me taste you first." she let go of her hand around his neck and moved to his waist. The one thing she kept her eyes on was his facial reaction. Pulling his boxers down, his dick sprung free. "Look at you, already so hard for me. God, you're so beautiful."
He whimpered, most likely from hearing her appraisals. She wrapped a hand around his dick, just before slowly stroking him. It wasn't fast enough to get him off, in fact, it was agonizingly slow. All he could do was whine loudly, and she enjoyed every sound he made.
Placing her mouth on the tip, she heard him let out a high-pitched whine. The fun thing about virgins? They're so fucking responsive it hurts. Each touch you make to someplace hypersensitive could've set them off.
Instead of immediately pleasuring him, she wanted to tease him. Seeing as his legs were spread apart, she ran her hands up his inner thighs. It gave him a sense of what would happen next, but it also made him anticipate what she would do to him. At first, it was light kisses to his inner thigh, which little gasps fell from his lips.
But as he got comfortable with the kissing, she sucked in those same spots, as if marking where she would form hickeys. The first hickey she made caused him to suck in raggedly, almost as if this gesture alone would've gotten him off. However, as adorable as he looked lying on the bed with his chest rising and falling unevenly, she still wanted him to feel penetrative sex.
By the time she fully took his dick into her mouth, he was a whimpering mess. The warmth from her mouth is what set him so close to the edge. Because of her previous teasing, his body jerked, no, writhed under her touch. "Please, Mistress," begging wouldn't get anything done, despite how much she wanted to hear it.
She didn't listen to his whining but instead swirled her tongue around his tip. Kiara took her time with him, even if it was agonizingly slow, but it was hot watching him squirm around, trying to please himself from her mouth. He must have been sensitive by now, so much so that his dick twitched in her mouth. That's when she knew to pull away, even if it meant he let out a string of desperate moans.
"W-Why did you stop?" His chest heaved in sexual desperation, almost like he wanted more, but he wasn't going to get what he wanted.
"Don't sound ungrateful, baby boy. You said you wanted to taste me, right?" she asked, which he quickly nodded. "Then sit up," she ordered, which he did as told. Crawling onto his lap, she hovered just above his dick, not giving him the satisfaction of her pussy just yet.
Out of instinct, he placed either of his hands on her thighs. She took his right and moved it into her inner thighs. When she let go of his hand, he slid it inward. "Y-You're so wet, ma'am," he wasn't expecting her to be sopping wet, but if this was because of him, he wanted to savor it.
"And it's all because of you, baby boy. Now be a good boy and please your Mistress," she ordered. He slid his hands toward her cunt, finding her clit easily. That wasn't the only thing he did, however, as he placed his mouth on her nipple.
He lightly circled his thumb on her clit, yet he inserted two fingers inside her hole. "Good boy," she moaned out. He started thrusting his fingers into her and swirling his tongue around her nipple. It didn't take him long to brush against her G-spot, which her walls fluttered around his fingers.
He sped up as if wanting to see what she would look like high from her orgasm. When her left nipple was hard, Spencer moved his mouth to her right one and did the same. She couldn't last long if he continued doing this. "Baby, I-," her voice escaped her, followed by an immediate moan.
"I like making you feel good, Mistress," he still had the same look in his eyes, but she couldn't focus on him anymore. "I wanna make you feel good," something must've flicked in his brain, because he rolled his fingers inside her.
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142 notes • Posted 2021-06-17 18:46:09 GMT
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Watching The Queen’s Gambit; on the Remarkable Unexceptionality of Beth Harmon
‘With some people, chess is a pastime. With others, it is a compulsion, even an addiction. And every now and then, a person comes along for whom it is a birthright. Now and then, a small boy appears and dazzles us with his precocity, at what may be the world’s most difficult game. But what if that boy were a girl? A young, unsmiling girl, with brown eyes, red hair, and a dark blue dress? Into the male-dominated world of the nation’s top chess tournaments, strolls a teenage girl with bright, intense eyes, from Fairfield High School in Lexington, Kentucky. She is quiet, well-mannered, and out for blood.’
The preceding epigraph opens a fictional profile of Beth Harmon featured in the third episode of The Queen’s Gambit (2020), and is written and published after the protagonist — a teenage, rookie chess player, no less — beats a series of ranked pros to win her first of many tournaments. In the same deft manner as it depicts the character’s ascent to her global chess stardom, the piece also sets up the series’s narrative: this is evidence of a great talent, it tells us, a grandmaster in the making. As with most other stories about prodigies, this new entry into a timeworn genre is framed unexceptionally by its subject’s exceptionality.
Yet as far as tales regaled about young chess wunderkinds go, Beth Harmon’s stands out in more ways than one. That she is a girl in a male-dominated world has clearly not gone unremarked by both her diegetic and nondiegetic audiences. That her life has thus far — and despite her circumstances — been relatively uneventful, however, is what makes this show so remarkable. After all, much of our culture has undeniably primed us to expect the consequential from those whom we raise upon the pedestal of genius. As Harmon’s interviewer suggests in her conversation with Harmon for the latter’s profile, “Creativity and psychosis often go hand in hand. Or, for that matter, genius and madness.” So quickly do we attribute extraordinary accomplishments to similarly irregular origins that we presume an inexplicability of our geniuses: their idiosyncrasies are warranted, their bad behaviours are excused, and deep into their biographies we dig to excavate the enigmatic anomalies behind their gifts. Through our myths of exceptionality, we make the slightest aberrations into metonyms for brilliance.
Nonetheless, for all her sullenness, non-conformity, and her plethora of addictions, Beth Harmon seems an uncommonly normal girl. No doubt this may be a contentious view, as evinced perhaps by the chorus of viewers and reviewers alike who have already begun to brand the character a Mary Sue. Writing on the series for the LA Review of Books, for instance, Aaron Bady construes The Queen’s Gambit as “the tragedy of Bobby Fischer [made] into a feminist fantasy, a superhero story.” In the same vein, Jane Hu also laments in her astute critique of the Cold War-era drama its flagrant and saccharine wish-fulfillment tendencies. “The show gets to have it both ways,” she observes, “a beautiful heroine who leans into the edge of near self-destruction, but never entirely, because of all the male friends she makes along the way.” Sexual difference is here reconstituted as the unbridgeable chasm that divides the US from the Soviet Union, whereas the mutual friendliness shared between Harmon and her male chess opponents becomes a utopic revision of history. Should one follow Hu’s evaluation of the series as a period drama, then the retroactive ascription of a recognisably socialist collaborative ethos to Harmon and her compatriots is a contrived one indeed.
Accordingly, both Hu and Bady conclude that the series grants us depthless emotional satisfaction at the costly expense of realism: its all-too-easy resolutions swiftly sidestep any nascent hint of overwhelming tension; its resulting calm betrays our desire for reprieve. Underlying these arguments is the fundamental assumption that the unembellished truth should also be an inconvenient one, but why must we always demand difficulty from those we deem noteworthy? Summing up the show’s conspicuous penchant for conflict-avoidance, Bady writes that:
over and over again, the show strongly suggests — through a variety of genre and narrative cues — that something bad is about to happen. And then … it just doesn’t. An orphan is sent to a gothic orphanage and the staff … are benign. She meets a creepy, taciturn old man in the basement … and he teaches her chess and loans her money. She is adopted by a dysfunctional family and the mother … takes care of her. She goes to a chess tournament and midway through a crucial game she gets her first period and … another girl helps her, who she rebuffs, and she is fine anyway. She wins games, defeating older male players, and … they respect and welcome her, selflessly helping her. The foster father comes back and …she has the money to buy him off. She gets entangled in cold war politics and … decides not to be.
In short, everything that could go wrong … simply does not go wrong.
Time and again predicaments arise in Harmon’s narrative, but at each point, she is helped fortuitously by the people around her. In turn, the character is allowed to move through the series with the restrained unflappability of a sleepwalker, as if unaffected by the drama of her life. Of course, this is not to say that she fails to encounter any obstacle on her way to celebrity and success — for neither her childhood trauma nor her substance-laden adolescence are exactly rosy portraits of idyll — but only that such challenges seem so easily ironed out by that they hardly register as true adversity. In other words, the show takes us repeatedly to the brink of what could become a life-altering crisis but refuses to indulge our taste for the spectacle that follows. Skipping over the Aristotelian climax, it shields us from the height of suspense, and without much struggle or effort on the viewers’ part, hands us our payoff. Consequently lacking the epochal weight of plot, little feels deserved in Harmon’s story.
In his study of eschatological fictions, The Sense of an Ending, Frank Kermode would associate such a predilection for catastrophes with our abiding fear of disorder. Seeing as time, as he argues, is “purely successive [and] disorganised,” we can only reach to the fictive concords of plot to make sense of our experiences. Endings in particular serve as the teleological objective towards which humanity projects our existence, so we hold paradigms of apocalypse closely to ourselves to restore significance to our lives. It probably comes as no surprise then that in a year of chaos and relentless disaster — not to mention the present era of extreme precariousness, doomscrolling, and the 24/7 news cycle, all of which have irrevocably attuned us to the dreadful expectation of “the worst thing to come” — we find ourselves eyeing Harmon’s good fortune with such scepticism. Surely, we imagine, something has to have happened to the character for her in order to justify her immense consequence. But just as children are adopted each day into loving families and chess tournaments play out regularly without much strife, so too can Harmon maintain low-grade dysfunctional relationships with her typically flawed family and friends.
In any case, although “it seems to be a condition attaching to the exercise of thinking about the future that one should assume one's own time to stand in extraordinary relation to it,” not all orphans have to face Dickensian fates and not all geniuses have to be so tortured (Kermode). The fact remains that the vagaries of our existence are beyond perfect reason, and any attempt at thinking otherwise, while vital, may be naive. Contrary to most critics’ contentions, it is hence not The Queen’s Gambit’s subversions of form but its continued reach towards the same that holds up for viewers such a comforting promise of coherence. The show comes closest to disappointing us as a result when it eschews melodrama for the straightforward. Surprised by the ease and randomness of Harmon’s life, it is not difficult for one to wonder, four or five episodes into the show, what it is all for; one could even begin to empathise with Hu’s description of the series as mere “fodder for beauty.”
Watching over the series now with Bady’s recap of it in mind, however, I am reminded oddly not of the prestige and historical dramas to which the series is frequently compared, but the low-stakes, slice-of-life cartoons that had peppered my childhood. Defined by the prosaicness of its settings, the genre punctuates the life’s mundanity with brief moments of marvel to accentuate the curious in the ordinary. In these shows, kindergarteners fix the troubles of adults with their hilarious playground antics, while time-traveling robot cats and toddler scientists alike are confronted with the woes of chores. Likewise, we find in The Queen’s Gambit a comparable glimpse of the quotidian framed by its protagonist’s quirks. Certainly, little about the Netflix series’ visual and narrative features would identify it as a slice-of-life serial, but there remains some merit, I believe, in watching it as such. For, if there is anything to be gained from plots wherein nothing is introduced that cannot be resolved in an episode or ten, it is not just what Bady calls the “drowsy comfort” of satisfaction — of knowing that things will be alright, or at the very least, that they will not be terrible. Rather, it is the sense that we are not yet so estranged from ourselves, and that both life and familiarity persists even in the most extraordinary of circumstances.
Perhaps some might find such a tendency towards the normal questionable, yet when all the world is on fire and everyone clambers for acclaim, it is ultimately the ongoingness of everyday life for which one yearns. As Harmon’s childhood friend, Jolene, tells her when she is once again about to fall off the wagon, “You’ve been the best at what you do for so long, you don’t even know what it’s like for the rest of us.” For so long, and especially over the past year, we have catastrophized the myriad crises in which we’re living that we often overlook the minor details and habits that nonetheless sustain us. To inhabit the congruence of both the remarkable and its opposite in the singular figure of Beth Harmon is therefore to be reminded of the possibility of being outstanding without being exceptional — that is, to not make an exception of oneself despite one’s situation — and to let oneself be drawn back, however placid or insignificant it may be, into the unassuming hum of dailiness. It is in this way of living that one lives on, minute by minute, day by day, against the looming fear and anxiety that seek to suspend our plodding regular existence. It is also in this way that I will soon be turning the page on the last few months in anticipation of what is to come.
Born and raised in the perpetually summery tropics — that is, Singapore — Rachel Tay wishes she could say her life was just like a still from Call Me By Your Name: tanned boys, peaches, and all. Unfortunately, the only resemblance that her life bears to the film comes in the form of books, albeit ones read in the comfort of air-conditioned cafés, and not the pool, for the heat is sweltering and the humidity unbearable. A fervent turtleneck-wearer and an unrepentant hot coffee-addict, she is thus the ideal self-parodying Literature student, and the complete anti-thesis to tropical life.
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(sorry it's about the mcu) It's always interesting to me that in the beginning of the films, the twins were not just eastern european but also heavily coded as romani, but as the movies went on, wanda became less and less "eastern european" and more americanized to the point that her next appearance is slated in a classic staple of american pop culture (a fifties tv show). it's been said before but wanda is like a new character each time she appears, and that's not said in a kind manner.
I feel like the MCU is about to become an unavoidable subject because… well, not to stomp on anyone’s fun, but I heard the Jaws theme song when I saw this. I have stuff to say about this subject that I don’t think anyone else has touched on yet and it’s the middle of the night and my sleep pattern is ruined.
There seems to be two things going on with MCU Wanda’s ever-changing everything: 1) No one was especially on-board with Whedon’s ideas and more broadly, no one can agree on who this character is supposed to be. 2) The post-Ultron movies have tried to mold the character to fit the actress better.
The latter is easy enough to explain. The very dark hair in Ultron didn’t suit her, and red is a better fit for her natural coloring. There’s a reason red hair and green eyes is such an iconique combination. They ditched the accent because, well, she’s no good at it. I think the changing wardrobe is partly this and partly an attempt to show character evolution.
The former reason, though, is where we can get into the weeds. Age of Ultron was a troubled production. One of the sticking points between Whedon and the studio was the dream/nightmare/mind control sequences, which the writer-director was attached to and which executives hated. Not a shock that they haven’t reappeared since. That the telepathic powers as a whole vanished is more curious, but I feel like the Russos, Markus, and McFeely don’t care about Whedon’s version of Wanda. They weren’t involved, and they don’t like it.
There was more back and forth with the accents than people remember. In 2013, The Wrap reiterated an earlier rumor that the twins would have British accents in the MCU. At first glance, that’s jarring, but sometimes, people who aren’t from Britain have British accents. It’s not my favorite choice for these characters, but it happens. Aaron Taylor-Johnson said he was the one who pushed for the Eastern European accents and for Pietro to have his white/silver hair (originally it was supposed to be brown). But he wasn’t sure, even while filming, if they were going to leave the accents in or ADR over all their dialogue. Once he was gone, there was no one to advocate for the inclusion of the accents, so everyone said, “Fuck it. She learned to talk with a US accent.”
There’s also the parts of their backstory that were cut, supposedly for time. Namely their Romani background (which seems to have been in the script) and any specific references to the US military being the ones to bomb their apartment building (something we can figure out from interviews and from context). Both things that were either already causing controversy or could have caused controversy, which were cut “for time” and for no other reason. Totally. Definitely. I suspect the later movies don’t pick up those threads for the same reason they drop the telepathy stuff. They’re not anything M&M and the Russos care about, and their stance is, “We don’t want to get into that.”
And then... there’s the Hydra backstory, which fits into the same category of “a thing that was dropped and it’s not hard to figure out why.” I have no clue what Whedon was thinking when he did that, and I don’t know how any future writer could incorporate it without doing an outright retcon. That wouldn’t be hard since there’s a reason most people thought those characters were held captive. The cinematic language in the Cap 2 end credits scene is at odds with what Whedon was trying to convey. When you have characters in cages looking drugged (complete with injection sites), what am I supposed to think?* “Wow, spooky”?Probably. Whatever he was going for, it didn’t work, and who is surprised that it was ignored? They should have fixed it, but this is another case of the later writers and directors looking at what Whedon did and not even caring enough to either acknowledge or contradict it.
That’s the theme here. That Markus, McFeely, and the Russos didn’t care about what Whedon did, but that they also didn’t replace it with anything. The stuff they did with Wanda was all plot-essential. Somebody’s gotta cause the superhero civil war, and guess who’s the easy choice. Somebody’s gotta care when Vision dies, and guess who’s the easy choice. You get where they’re coming from. They have 375 characters to worry about, and she’s not one of the popular ones. The end result is a character who isn’t really anything.
Even within his own movies, the characters Whedon was allowed to introduce into the MCU are half-baked. What if Vision was Adam Warlock? What if The Colonel meets Jean Grey? What if Quicksilver only existed to die? It’s a lot of stealing from various sources without thinking through the meaning and significance of what you’re stealing. James Gunn gives zero fucks about adhering to comics canon, but at least, he has concrete notions of who his versions of the characters are. They may not be what I wanted (#JusticeForMantis), but they’re cohesive entities on their own. Can you say that for Ms. “Let’s join Hydra and kill random South Africans and oh no, I’m scared of fighting”?
Lastly, the 1950’s housewife thing is more about the extremes of character interpretation. Whedon focused on Wanda’s past as part of the Brotherhood and used Ultron and – for fuck’s sake – Hydra as stand-ins for that (while ignoring that Wanda’s time in the Brotherhood was defined by the abuse she suffered and not by random murders she committed by mind controlling the Hulk). To quoth the man himself, “They’re interesting to me because they sort of represent the part of the world that wouldn’t necessarily agree with The Avengers.” He envisioned them as the kind of Radicals With a Point that superhero films love, but his execution didn’t match his vision. (Maybe it was better in the script, idk.)
In creating that godforsaken tv show, Feige is leaning on the perception of Wanda as a conservative figure. That idea comes from the fact that so much of her story is wrapped up in family and babies and sexist stereotypes. It feels mismatched with the former. (Not denying the realities of human complexity, just saying you should have a clearer vision for a made up person.) We’ll have to see how it plays out, but it seems like a case of no one agreeing on what this character believes or how she views the world. Or maybe it was Nightmare/Chthon/Mojo all along. Lotta maybes going on.
Anyway, the Americanization issue comes down to treating your own culture and worldview as default and trying to work around miscasting, and the overall issue is that you shouldn’t make characters who only exist to be sites of tragedy.
*They also look drugged at the beginning of Age of Ultron, when they’re with Hydra, and at no other point. Does Whedon associate that aesthetic with menace/villainy? (If so, yikes!!) Additionally, I’m gonna leave this here with the reminder that it is from the same movie.
#anonymous#answered#mcu#movie wanda tag#long post#listen... all my posts are long#but this one especially so
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Jonathan Groff decides we should take advantage of what might be New York’s last suitable night for al fresco dining in 2019. He sits down at one of a dozen empty tables outside the otherwise packed Hell’s Kitchen bistro and announces, in a tone suggesting more mischief than regret, that he must first make a call.
"Hello," he says, iPhone now at his ear. "Joel Grey?"
Groff is starring in a limited revival of Little Shop of Horrors, and it is a very hot ticket. The Broadway legend on the other end of the line has apparently thrown a Hail Mary in hopes of scoring seats to the night’s sold-out performance. Hamming up this exchange for my amusement, Groff is game to play broker for the Tony and Oscar winner who originated the role of Cabaret’s tuxedoed emcee — and, maybe, anybody else who has his number.
"This is basically my part-time job," says Groff of fielding requests, jotting down credit card information and negotiating pickup times and locations for friends both famous and civilian. "It was the same thing when I was doing Hamilton," he adds of his year playing King George III in Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop history lesson. "But I was really only onstage for nine minutes during that show, so the tickets were probably full-time."
The 34-year-old actor seems eager to please, not unlike current alter ego Seymour. Little Shop’s nebbish, sweet and ultimately doomed florist nurtures a manipulative plant even as the pet’s homicidal tendencies grow more and more apparent. Those familiar with the campy musical comedy know that it suffers no shortage of blood, but it’s a nursery rhyme compared with Groff’s recent work on truecrime thriller Mindhunter. Playing a curious FBI agent in David Fincher’s Netflix series has perhaps done more for his ascendant profile than anything yet. But two seasons on the drama have meant two nine-month stints in Pittsburgh, filming interrogation scenes with character actors who bear uncanny resemblances to famous serial killers.
So even on a two-show day like this late- October Saturday, the rigors of theater are easy work for Groff. Over a couple of hot toddies, in between humoring three smitten waiters at the restaurant at which he’s been a regular since Little Shop went into previews down the block, the actor appears to be in his element. "Theater is such a communal, familial medium and interactive experience," notes Groff, who says he recognizes faces in the crowd during most performances. "Mindhunter, for me at least, is a very private experience."
Groff plays against type on Mindhunter. Wide-eyed with an almost perpetual grin, his is a mug you wouldn’t be surprised to find in an illustrated Merriam-Webster — cozied up to the entry for "baby face." Much of his previous acting career leaned into this, starting with his breakout. The Pennsylvania native came to New York at 19 and landed the lead in the musical Spring Awakening by the time he was 21. "I was just auditioning for the ensemble of Broadway shows," says Groff. "I hadn’t really developed the taste to appreciate something like Spring Awakening until I was in it."
New York’s "It" Broadway show of the aughts, the rock opera about sexual discovery among 19th century German teenagers earned Groff his first Tony nomination. He spent two years in the production before leaving in 2008, at the same time as friend and co-star Lea Michele, to pursue film and television. The work that immediately followed — Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, a recurring spin on Michele’s Fox hit Glee, a supporting role in the second season of Kelsey Grammer’s cult drama Boss, voicework in Disney $1.3 billion smash Frozen (he’ll reprise his role as Kristoff in Frozen 2, out Nov. 22) — got him on the radar for vehicles of his own. When HBO began casting Looking, its 2014 dramedy about a group of gay friends navigating an evolving San Francisco, Groff was soon tapped to front the series.
"He will search for the best version of every scene and will work until everyone drops," says Looking executive producer Andrew Haigh, who cast him as Patrick — boy-nextdoor- ish, like the actor, but privileged and problematically fickle. "He is also wholly unafraid to be vulnerable onscreen."
Looking lasted for only two seasons and a wrap-up movie, and its premature demise allowed Groff to do Hamilton, which he joined while the show was off-Broadway in early 2015, and then made the jump to Broadway. His supporting part as the aforementioned royal — with interstitial lamentations for the seceding Colonies, sung like a lovelorn (and supremely pissed) Davy Jones — earned Groff his second Tony nomination. But Groff wasn’t long for Hamilton, either. He was circling his next TV project, a moody prestige procedural about the early days of the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, based on the 1995 memoir Mindhunter by criminal profiler John E. Douglas.
"I’m not naturally a true-crime person. So reading the book, I was like … 'oh, fuck,' "says Groff of John E. Douglas’ memoir 'Mindhunter.'
Mindhunter, the book and the series, delves into the morbid minutiae of notorious murder cases with an emphasis on interviews between law enforcement and criminals in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Groff was in contention for the role of FBI agent Holden Ford, based loosely on Douglas. First, he had to prove to director and executive producer Fincher — a filmmaker long admired by Groff, who says he has "a boner for his brain" — that a jovial Broadway star most widely known for singing with a reindeer in a Disney cartoon could have the upper hand with serial killers.
It was not Groff’s first audition for Fincher. Seven years earlier, he was in the running to play Napster co-founder Sean Parker in The Social Network. "My agents said, 'You have an audition in L.A. with David and Aaron Sorkin,' " Groff recalls. "If you get it, you start rehearsal the next day, so pack your suitcase for two months. They really like your tape, but they’re also considering Justin Timberlake." The part went to Timberlake.
"I did not feel then — and still don’t — that he had the inherent venality for that role," Fincher says of Groff. "He is as decent and sensitive as anyone I’ve ever met."
If venality is off the table for Groff, darkness is not. And though casting the song-anddance man was a source of curiosity for some in Hollywood before Mindhunter’s 2017 debut, the finished product didn’t elicit any skepticism from critics. Over the first season, Groff’s character goes from eager, milkdrinking company boy to a shell of the man introduced in the first episode. He alarms colleagues with the way he mirrors serial killers, until he has a panic attack after getting a bear hug from a necrophile. The second run, equally well reviewed after its August debut, saw a somewhat recovered Holden sit down with Charles Manson and, for the dramatic fulcrum of the season, investigate the Atlanta child murders of 1979-81.
"It is so impossibly bleak that I don’t think about it while I’m doing it," says Groff, who confesses he finds watching the show more affecting than making it. "All due respect to people who feel like the character is inside of them or whatever, but I don’t have that. I would leave set, listen to Beyoncé, and that was it."
After an hour and a half in his company, Groff reveals himself as a Lucille Ball historian, an avid bike rider, a devout New Yorker and someone who doesn’t seem easily bummed out — except when the conversation turns to success. His excitement over landing Mindhunter, he says, was immediately diluted by a pang of sadness. "Whenever something really great happens, it makes me feel a little bit depressed," he says. "It’s like, this is never going to get better than this moment right now. I’m sitting in David Fincher’s office and he’s giving me this role."
Talk of a third season of Mindhunter is on hold while Fincher focuses on his next feature. But the director did take a recent break from Mank, a biopic on Citizen Kane screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz, to attend Groff’s first Little Shop matinee with wife and fellow Mindhunter executive producer Céan Chaffin. It was a surprise appearance, but only because Groff hadn’t been checking his text messages. "I’m not good at my phone," he admits.
Groff has not looked at his phone since that one call — which, while polite, now has him in danger of running late for curtain. He breaks the bad news of his immediate departure to one particularly adoring waiter, and we walk to the stand where his bike is locked. There, he pulls from his bag a cobalt helmet that could double as Tron cosplay. Bars of blinding LED lights on both its front and back, his headgear tells cabs to get the hell out of the way and signals to everybody else that this is a man who values safety over subtlety.
"Yeah, I do really love riding my bike in the city … I’m just not that hard-core," Groff says of the helmet before encasing his tousle of sandy chestnut hair for the one-block ride to the theater and an expectant Joel Grey. "My mom bought this for me."
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Can we talk about Moyo for a minute? He is a character i cant wrap my head around and I am curious to know what is your take on him?
For the first 2 seasons, and most of the 3rd, he is quite simply an asshole.
- many homophobic remarks/comments, especially towards Robbe
- he is a very insensitive character and literally make fun of everyone (remember when he roasts Aaron on his crush on Amber? Man that was harsh)
- impersonation of toxic masculanity: you can see it back in s1 when Jens and Robbe come back from their weekend away when Robbe tries to hug him, he rejects him quite violently
With all these things combined, we had a clear portrait of Moyo: homophobic macho asshole.
However, I keep wondering about his homophobia, because of a few clips:
- the “Are you serious” just after Robbe’s coming out. He is not disgusted (it is what we were led to expect) but scared as fuck!
- the prank when Milan hit on him. He is uncomfortable as hell and oh how sweet was it to see the tables turned. However, once again we see him fucking scared! He was in a state of fight-or-flight but at the same time too paralysed to say or do anything. And we know him, usually he knows how to defend himself and he knows how to give back as much as he receives. But in that moment we could not utter a word. Is it because he started to work on himself to become a better friend to Robbe and thus did not know how to react not to offend anyone? At the same time, his homophobia seems so rooted in him, I dont understand how he was able to stay silent if it was just to be nice to his friend?
- he sticks to Robbe and the gang even after the coming out. In itself it is not surprising: Jens and Aaron are his best friends and if he ditched Robbe he knew he would be alone and would have to find new friends. Moreover he appears to have a great need for validation (Jens’ line “do you see me laughing?” must have hurt a lot because it is what he fears the most: being belittled/not appreciated by his friends). All in all it was not a surprise he stayed friend with the guys, but what is suprising is his decision to help Robbe. Explaning bipolarity is one thing, i think he would have done it either way, but telling Robbe “he loves you, trust me” is another thing, really. Once again, it could have been because he wanted to mend things with Robbe, but what would be the point when we take into account how homophobic he is? He knows he just have to be civil and he would stay friends with the guys, he just would have to say nothing when Robbe talks about Sander. But he takes this extra leap to reassure Robbe, and it does not make sense?? (dont get me wrong, im glad he does!)
What I gather so far: Moyo is homophobic, but it does not come from a place of disgust or machism but a place of fear. Now if I strech that a little, it has all the signs of repressed homosexuality and that is why I do not think that Moyo is 100% straight.
(since I know this is a controversial subject, let me be clear: I do not believe that homophobia is a sign of repressed homosexuality. In this case however, with the interpretation of Moyo, this is what i assume.)
I hope for the next seasons we will see how his character grow! Also i am a sucker for a well-done redemption arc.
Tell me what you think, I am really curious about your thoughts on Moyo!
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Blue Sky Analysis (Wheatley Redemption and Sky Motif)
Let me start off by saying:
The summer solstice took place during the week of Blue Sky.
In Chapter 1 of Blue Sky is the following quote:
“It was a spring morning, just before dawn, fresh and mild.”
Later on, Waffles wrote a short story in response to one of @oodlesodoodles drawings of Eaden’s journey back from Aperture. You can read it here.
She wrote the following:
“Most of the town settled down to sleep in the long grass by the road, wrapped in the thin blankets they’d gathered from the Relaxation Units, thankful for the warm breezy summer night.”
Kind of interesting, no? For the start of Blue Sky it’s spring, and not long after Chapter 15 it’s summer.
So, in the U.S…


So it definitely took place near the end of June for that year. Ironically, the turning from spring into summer is called “midsummer,” as it’s when the summer solstice occurs.

(As said above, these are specific to 2020 - the solstice’s average date is the 21st. Although we can’t be certain of the exact dates in Blue Sky, the change in seasons clearly demonstrates a solstice was present.)
I’m not sure if the turn into summer was written intentionally, but I like to think that it was for purposes of symbolism.
Cue the analysis!!
The summer solstice is when the sun reaches its highest point. In Waffles’ writing, Wheatley has likened both GLaDOS and Chell to the sun:
“Then there was the sun…up here in space without the protection of all that white wispy stuff around the Earth it was an intense, cold-yellow glare…Harsh, pitiless, and unblinking; it reminded him too much of Her.” (Chapter 1)
“Her whole face came alive when she laughed; not in a scary brilliant, born-puzzle-solver-and-stuff-breaker sort of way, no, this was a different thing altogether. It was like sunlight in the facility, like suddenly seeing a patch of bright blue sky clear through a gap in the cage of panels and realizing you were much, much closer to it than you’d thought.” (Chapter 6)
So, what’s the connection? Why are they each compared to the sun?
Well, I think it’s safe to say at this point in his story that Wheatley sees both GLaDOS and Chell as powerful, near-infallible figures that would/could definitely crush him if he made a wrong move. They are constant, immovable, major influencers who play at odds but on a similar field.
Take GLaDOS, for instance. Wheatley is quite obviously fearful of Her and what She can do to him, which is consistently portrayed through his dialogue in-game when he’s not attached to the chassis. In Blue Sky, his fear appears from the moment Her voice is heard while falling to earth-
“That Voice. The dread of it- the dread of Her- was hard-coded into his artificial heart-roots…his emotional processor found room for another sour jerk of sick fear.” (Chapter 1)
-and amplifies as She holds him captive. Even after Chell rescues him and he is far from Aperture, Wheatley has trouble just talking about Her to Aaron on Chell’s behalf in Chapter 5. As if uttering Her being is wont to get one into trouble…In a way, it’s almost like fearing “God”, as GLaDOS is referred to in Chapter 1. And She sort of is, with the power She holds over the subjects and cores in that facility, and also the inferiority complex She’s contributed with dragging Wheatley into.
“‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’ ‘Oh, I believe you.’ More jointed arms folded around him from below, their connectors finding the docking ports on his sides, locking him firmly into their grip. ‘I just don’t care. This isn’t about revenge, metal ball. We both know you are a pointless, insignificant little moron who has never done anything right.’” (Chapter 1)
Basically, Wheatley does not feel that he is on a level playing field with GLaDOS. Instead, he is taught to tread lightly around Her because She constantly exercises Her power over him, making him feel so much smaller.
The case is not entirely different with how Wheatley perceives Chell. Granted, it is a LOT different - Wheatley trusts Chell and eventually comes to realize how she genuinely wants to help him grow - but until he gets to learn her better, Wheatley views her by what he knows: Chell is an incredible test subject who has a knack for taking down power-mad AIs. Wheatley may not see himself on GLaDOS’ level, but he does see Chell there. And until he can better understand her motives, Wheatley perceives Chell, like GLaDOS, as a force that best not be messed with.
“Just speaking about the facility, about Her, hearing his own voice shakily describing everything he’d tried so hard to escape was nearly as bad as actually being back there. He wanted to stop, but he simply didn’t have the nerve- not while she was still glaring at him like that, as if daring him to make another objection.” (Chapter 5)
She can command him with a look and anchor him by just being there. In a way, Chell terrifies Wheatley, as described in the aforementioned quote that conveyed her “scary brilliant, born-puzzle-solver-and-stuff-breaker sort of” look. It’s also illustrated in how Wheatley thinks of Chell as a kind of superhuman.
“You’re not afraid of anything!’ She looked up, sharply. She might have suspected mockery, or even flattery, but Wheatley hadn’t intended either- hadn’t intended anything, other than a plain, admiring statement of fact- and it showed.” (Chapter 6)
What I’m getting at is Wheatley sees both GLaDOS and Chell almost as superior to him. Like they’re on a whole other level that he can’t quite reach - huge, celestial, god-like stars. He’d tried making his way to that level once, in the chassis, but he couldn’t handle it, and that truth resonates with him now as it did in space. He couldn’t manage the position of power that GLaDOS occupies and, in his eyes, Wheatley couldn’t stand up to GLaDOS like Chell could.
“‘Chell here is the only human that ever managed to get one over Her, and she only managed it because- because- I-I don’t actually even know how she managed it, to be honest, but it probably involved a lot of explosions. (Chapter 5)
Clearly a reference to how Chell had freed Wheatley from GLaDOS, when he was completely helpless and relied on her nearly the whole way through. He thinks of Chell as objectively capable.
Wheatley has worked himself into the idea that he is incompetent and relatively inferior to these two characters - that he’s designed to be a moron, that he can only come up with terrible ideas and there’s nothing he can do to counter that.
Until he proves himself.
You see, the sun is used to describe GLaDOS and Chell when it’s being told through Wheatley’s eyes. But when the omniscient narrator is speaking, the sun reflects Wheatley on multiple occasions, suggesting that he has the potential to join these two.
“By the time the sun had made its first uncertain, deep-orange-red appearance over the horizon, a small crowd of curious people had gathered…Wheatley swallowed. His enthusiasm had lasted right up until the moment when he’d realized exactly what Garret wanted him to do, at which point it had evaporated like sodium dropped into water, leaving stark terror in its place.” (Chapter 10)
Here, Wheatley is met with a task, a challenge that dangles over his head. And as we know, this is the day when Wheatley takes that first major step into his own. The day he gets Foxglove working, takes a chance with everyone watching, and he succeeds. He receives praise-
“Their overwhelming unconditional approval was very nearly too much for him to process, and for a choked, confused moment he found himself really wishing he could take his glasses off properly.” (Chapter 10)
Wheatley is validated not only by the masses, by faceless figures who he might see as on his level, but also by people he perceives as being greater than he, including Chell and Aaron.
“It was a look just for him, warm and open and a little wry and simply- proud.” (Chapter 10)
“Wheatley, who found it very hard to believe that a look like that from somebody In Charge could possibly be aimed at him, found it as staggering as it was unmistakable. Good job.” (Chapter 10)
Wheatley isn’t used to being nodded at from the higher-ups. He doesn’t expect such treatment from them, and yet they give it. This is a glimpse into what could be, if Wheatley continues to make steps in the right direction.
But things go awry that night. The townspeople get captured, and Chell goes off after them while Wheatley stays behind. For a very long time, he sits and laments in the dark, but then…
“It was nearly dawn.” (Chapter 13)
The sun returns. And that’s when he resolves to be brave.
Wheatley puts aside his fears and reservations, and he joins the effort, willing to sacrifice himself to keep these people safe.
I like to believe that the summer solstice took place on the day Wheatley saved Eaden.
I think it represents his ascension - profound if not permanent - in joining GLaDOS and Chell on their respective level, especially by his own perspective. Participating in the fight, becoming a real force to be reckoned with and handling his influence over GLaDOS and the facility. Doing something right.
Once in Aperture, Wheatley is no longer submissive to GLaDOS, and he is taking initiative to be by Chell’s side, choosing to aid her at his own risk. He is redeeming himself, forging his way through the panels and clouds and establishing his path into that bright blue sky, of which his residence will be permanent.
If we continue with the sky motif, we understand that it was Chell who showed him the path to redemption - the blue sky - despite his inhibitions brought about by Aperture:
“It was like sunlight in the facility, like suddenly seeing a patch of bright blue sky clear through a gap in the cage of panels and realizing you were much, much closer to it than you’d thought.”
And beyond the fears drilled into his head because of what the scientists had done, the idea that he’s not good enough, that he can only come up with terrible ideas and can never escape that truth, there is fear of Her specifically. Upon returning to Earth and leaving Aperture, Wheatley had expected a newfound border to be drawn between him and GLaDOS, as seen by the skyline and cloud cover that he thought would shield him from Her glare. Yet he was wrong about how real these borders would be, whether meant for protection from Her vicinity or reaffirming their disparity.
“Then there was the sun…up here in space without the protection of all that white wispy stuff around the Earth it was an intense, cold-yellow glare.”
“…[T]he sun…During his time in space he’d guessed that the sunlight would be less intense down here beneath the blanket of the sky, but he’d been wrong. It was warmer, but no easier to bear.” (Chapter 4)
Atmosphere could be broken. Clouds could be pierced. On the day he overcomes his fears, the sky is cloud-covered before Foxglove sends Wheatley to Aperture and clearer after Eaden is brought to the surface.
“The sky was brightening, but the day was dull and overcast.” (Chapter 13)
“Sunlight. She could feel it, warm on her face…saw a sliver of brightest blue, a hazy sunbeam falling directly across the buckled floor, through a shattered hole in the musty little window above her.” (Chapter 14)
Makes me wonder if, in this moment, Wheatley was the sunbeam through the shattered hole guiding Chell from Aperture once again, as he had 4 years ago, and just as she had been guiding him out of Aperture’s weight over the past week with her own sunlight through the panels.
~~
Okay. So:
The summer solstice occurred sometime over the week of Blue Sky, and I’d like to say it was the day Wheatley redeemed himself. Wheatley compares both GLaDOS and Chell to the sun, signifying how he sees them on a similar plane as major influencers. He manages to find ground with them by kicking his fears - the panels and skyline and cloud cover - in the teeth and making a place for himself in blue sky using the light that Chell provides for him, and that he gives in turn when the time comes.
Nice, very nice. Very fitting with Mr. Blue Sky’s lyrics as well. Now please excuse me while I go cry.
#c's posts#blue sky#blue sky portal#portal#portal 2#wheatley#chell#glados#a portal for your thoughts#chelley
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