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doctorstethoscope · 2 years

Text

Play it Again || A. Hotchner x Fem Reader

hi all! This is just a little something based off of Play it Again by Luke Bryan. Hope you enjoy!

contains: alcohol consumption

wordcount: 1.6k

It was one of those perfect early-spring nights that reminded you that the winter was worth suffering through. You were gathered in Rossi’s backyard celebrating the unseasonably warm weather and a rare Saturday night off with everyone free. JJ and Morgan were helping Jack and Henry roast marshmallows, Spencer and Penelope were tossing tiny piles of uprooted grass at each other, and Emily and Rossi were in the kitchen putting together another pitcher of sangria. There was an early spring breeze carrying the music coming from the radio of Morgan’s truck, and you were sitting in the bed, your legs stretched out. Hotch ambled over to you, a fresh beer in one hand and a White Claw from the cooler in the other for you.

“You looked like you could use a cold one,” he said, handling the can over and settling into the side of the truck, resting his arm on the edge of the bed.

“Thanks. And you picked the best flavor,” you smile at him, cracking open the mango seltzer.

“It was mostly lime left in the cooler, I had to go digging,” he smirks.

You pull a face. “Nobody likes lime.”

“I imagine that’s why they’re all still in the cooler.”

You chuckle a little at his dry humor. You know that most people wouldn’t really call that a joke, just an observation, but those people… they didn’t get Hotch.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” you say genuinely, and you’re surprised to see how touched he is when he turns to look at you. “I know it’s not always easy to get to team stuff with Jack. It means a lot that you make the effort.”

“Despite the hardass exterior, I do truly enjoy your company. You’re right, it’s not always easy, but I want to be here with you,” he says. “With all of you,” he adds after a second, instantly regretting it. Why is it so hard to be honest with you? “Actually, I should say—” he starts, but he’s cut off by your gasp.

“I’m sorry, Hotch, but hold that thought. I’ve been waiting for this song to come on all night,” you say, hopping out of the truck and turning towards him. “Dance with me, please.”

He rolls his eyes. If it were anyone else, he’d say no, and he knows it. But he’s helpless.

“You’re totally going to kill my hardass act,” he says as he takes your hand.

The song you’ve been waiting all night for is some country-pop song, and Hotch can help but grin as you throw your head back in a laugh when he spins you. He pulls you back into his chest and you stumble a bit, giggling all the while. You make contact with his chest– it wasn’t on purpose, necessarily, but it wasn’t quite an accident, either. He catches you. You knew he would.

“Sorry. One too many White Claws, I guess,” you chuckle at your own self-deprecating joke as you take another sip.

“You okay?” He asks, looking you over and quirking a brow. You can practically see the gears of his brain turning as he attempts to mentally catalogue each drink you had this evening.

“I’m good, Hotch. Only 20% clumsier than I normally am. Just not really a dancer,” you assured him.

“You could’ve fooled me,” he tells you with a sly grin.

“Good partner. Good song. There’s a saying about broken clocks that might apply.”

“Nothing broken about you,” he says.

“What were you saying? Before the dancing,” you asked.

Aaron draws in a breath. He’d halfway hoped that you’d forgotten in the admittedly short period of time. But, you hadn’t, so it was time to pay the piper. “I was going to say— I’ve been meaning to tell you, it’s only fair—” he starts to stumble over his words, but Jack comes over in a rush.

“Dad! Can I sleep over at Henry’s? Ms. Jareau said it’s okay,” he asks breathlessly.

Hotch gives his son a discerning look. “Did she offer to have you come over, or did you or Henry pester her until she said yes?” He asks.

For Jack’s sake, you hold in your chuckle. The profiling never stops, it seems.

“She really offered. You can ask her yourself,” Jack insists.

Aaron turns to look at you apologetically. “I should probably go talk to JJ,” he says.

“Go ahead– I need a s’more. We’ll catch up later,” you tell him.

JJ is wiping Henry’s sticky hands when Hotch and Jack make their way over. “I just wanted to make sure the kids didn’t put you up to anything,” He says.

“We go head-to-head with serial killers, Hotch. I think I can handle a couple of ten year olds in the throes of a sugar rush,” she teases him.

“Still. You don’t have to. We could get the boys together tomorrow, or some other weekend,” he tries to give her an out, but she refuses.

“I really did offer, Hotch. It’s no big deal. You should offer Y/N a ride home. She came in with me— and you should ask for a permanent spot on her dance card before somebody else does.”

“Jayje,” Aaron sighs, feeling not unlike a sibling being called out for their schoolyard crush. He’d been so caught up in dancing with you that he hadn’t stopped to think that the team might be watching– he felt a blush grow up his cheeks just thinking about it.

“I’m just saying” JJ raises her hands in surrender. “You make each other happy, and you both deserve that.”

“I’ll drive her home,” Aaron agrees to the first request pointedly. “You can just text me in the morning when the boys are up.”

“Okay. But if things go really well and you need more time—” she starts suggestively.

“JJ!” He admonishes with nothing behind it.

When Aaron finds you after sending Jack off, you’re finishing off a glass of sangria with Prentiss while Morgan and Rossi are working on putting out the campfire. Garcia and Reid are nearby clearing off the picnic table where the snacks had been set up.

“Turns out JJ really did offer to take the boys,” he explains to you. “I’ll take you home when you’re ready.”

“Hotch, you didn’t have to do that. I could have taken an Uber,” you tell him.

“Well, I told JJ I’d take you, and I’m a man of my word,” he sighs in mock consternation.

The two of you bid the team goodnight, and he leads you out to the car with a supportive hand on the small of your back. You’re not really all that drunk— just a little buzzed, and sated with the pleasure of your friends’ company, but you appreciate the warm, steady pressure of it all the same. It’s been a long night, and you’re fading fast by the time you make it to the driveway, practically melting into the leather interior of Hotch’s SUV. You don’t fall asleep, but you’re too tired to break the comfortable silence that lingers between you.

The words JJ had said float through Hotch’s brain as he drives. He should just tell you, he thinks. It can’t be selfish if it’s honest, can it? And so what if it is selfish? Hasn’t he earned the right? He glances over at you, catches a glimpse of your soft, lazy smile as you watch the lights of the city pass by. The tableau is almost too perfect. He couldn’t dare to disturb it with a confession like the one he was harboring. He turns up the radio, just a hair.

He pulls into your driveway, and you stir, getting your bearings and stretching a bit before turning to face him.

“I’ll walk you up,” Hotch says, and you smile.

“I’m okay,” you tell him.” You’ve already gone far enough out of your way,” you tell him.

“It wasn’t a problem. Really, I’d do a—”

He starts to say more than he knows that he should when you draw in a quick breath, reaching for the radio dial. “It’s my song again,” You smile. “One more dance?”

He should say no. He doesn’t know how much longer he can straddle this line before he’s too far gone to be helped. But he can’t bring himself to do it. He chuckles a little at his own lack of willpower before turning the radio up and rolling down the windows, coming around to the other side of the car and opening the door for you.

You take the hand he offers to help you out of the car and let him lead you in a dance. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, and you can’t look away from him either. You know him— know he doesn’t let the light in like this for just anybody. You’re thankful that he does it for you, and you want more. He spins you out and pulls you back in as the song ends, and you’re helpless. You rise to your tiptoes, and watch Aaron’s eyebrows hit his hairline as you drape your arms around his neck. Before you can think any better of it, you press your lips to his. He’s surprised, you can feel it in the way the muscles of his back tense under your arms, but he relaxes after a moment, bringing his hands around your waist and kissing you back soundly.

You pull away after a moment, feeling something between shock and elation. “I can’t believe that song came on again,” you say dumbly.

Aaron, for his part, seems to find your non sequitur charming. He treats you to a rare, two-dimpled smile. “Play it again,” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you a second time.

tagging: @arsonhotchner @shyhotch @call-me-mrsreid @dadbodhotch11 @the-modernmary @angelfxllcm @rousethemouse @skyler666 @mintphoenix @gspenc @ashhotchner @wheelsupkels @infinite-tides @zetasaturno99 @itsmeiguessidk @ahouseforhermitcrab @catsofsmoke @silversighs

note: I tagged everyone who was on my taglist from YMP and everyone who interacted with the post requesting a tag. If anyone is on here mistakenly please let me know! I will remove you and I won't be offended at all. Additionally, just a reminder that I ask folks on the taglist to reblog and/or comment on each update.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader fic #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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cavills-henry · 1 year

Photo

Meet the Spartans (2008)

Dir. by Jason Friedberg & Aaron Seltzer

#sean maguire #kevin sorbo #meet the spartans #movie #i watched this the other day and forgot how homoerotic was lmao #dailymalestarsedit

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masterwords · 1 year

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Spending Christmas in Chicago at Fran’s. Morgan’s sisters building a snowman with Jack while Hotch and Derek enjoy a lazy morning under the warm covers.

Hotch and Derek attending the annual Christmas play at Jack’s school and going for hot chocolate at the Christmas market afterwards.

Both of them falling asleep on the sofa on New Year’s Eve, Jack taking a picture and sending it to Jess and Fran.

Well, I am absolutely certain you had no intention of me using all 3 of these in one story, but I did. With an added dash of baby fever! Hotch and Morgan plus a pregnancy announcement. I think I might carry this one on, too, as a long-term story if anyone is interested? Add it to the pile, folks! I don't write a lot of baby-centric fics but I was sort of in the mood here for some reason. Lots of sweet, soft fluff. Some angst. 3.5k words of SURPRISE WE'RE HAVING A BABY.

***there is comfort where we overlap ***

“We have to go,” Derek said, breezing through the bedroom, from hallway to bathroom with a purpose. Hotch had been in there for over an hour either showering, shaving or having some kind of extended quiet panic attack. “You almost ready?” On the counter was an open bottle of Tums, extra strength, half empty. He popped the lid closed and looked around.

Silence. Derek peeked behind the shower curtain to find Hotch just...sitting...beneath the water. “Aaron, come on.”

“What time is her appointment?” Hotch's voice was small and wet sounding.

“Doesn't matter. We'll know when we know. Come on, Jack's expecting us to show up for this cookies and cocoa thing with his teachers beforehand. Jessica will actually murder us if we miss it, I guarantee it.”

“I know.” He made no effort to move, however.

“Then get up and come on. It's out of our hands.”

Hotch wasn't usually one to mope around, and under normal circumstances he would be the one who had everything together and was ready hours beforehand. But there was something about this particular circumstance that had completely robbed him of the ability to exist. Slowly he unfurled his long legs and stretched them while Derek cut off the water supply and dropped a towel on top of his head rather unceremoniously. “Up.”

“I'm getting up.”

“No, you're stretching like a lazy cat. Get up.”

He got up. Begrudgingly, he managed it and toweled himself off entirely before stepping out of the tub. Derek had already laid out some clothes for him and threatened to set a timer for him to get ready, but Hotch didn't protest and didn't drag his feet. He simply did his best to turn his brain off and put his clothes on.

C'est la Vie had never been in Hotch's life plan. His need for control ran so deep that he couldn't even let other people drive the car he sat in. And this situation was so far outside of his control that it was giving him an ulcer, or at least adding to the one that was already in there. He could feel it gnawing away at his stomach lining. For the last two weeks he'd been eating Tums and drinking Alka Seltzer at an alarming rate. He was making himself sick, and there wasn't anything Derek could do to stop the spiral except wait it out and remind him they had no control and if they found out that it hadn't happened...they would simply try again. And again. And it wouldn't have been his fault.

They missed cookies and cocoa by ten minutes, but they made it before the play started. Just in time to apologize and promise that they'd go out to the little Christmas market downtown afterward to see the tree lighting and parade. They would have just enough time to pop in, grab some hot cocoa, watch the tree lighting and hit the road. Hotch wasn't thrilled, but he'd been the reason for the tardiness, so he kept his protest to a minimum. “It's three degrees,” Hotch muttered, but he'd already given in.

The play was sweet. Not great, most of the kids forgot their lines and some had even lost parts of their costumes, but it was sweet. The really little ones looked like a box full of kittens had been upended on the stage and they all scattered in different directions. There were teachers and parents rushing the stage to set them back on track. The slightly older kids, like Jack, stood on the risers and sang their parts and spoke their lines sometimes too loud, sometimes too quiet, always off key - but overall, it was about as good as could be expected. It would leave them with stories to tell, if nothing else.

As they sat, Hotch worried his thumb over his nailbeds and kept it hidden in his pockets. As if Derek didn't know what he was hiding. With some otherworldly level of stealth, Derek reached over, pulled one of his hands free and squeezed it. At attempt at being reassuring but it only made Hotch feel like crying. That Derek was so laid back and he was absolutely beside himself was cruel.

Their phones were off. Derek had insisted. Not just silence but completely off. “Whatever the result is, we don't need to know while Jack's on stage. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

Derek led a standing ovation for the kids, much to the delight of the kids on stage who took exaggerated bows and pointed at their families and smiled for pictures. Hotch, for one brief moment, was completely overwhelmed by what was happening on the stage and how completely sweet it was and forgot entirely about the text he was anticipating. In fact, his mind wandered in the other direction, and he found himself wishing he could turn to his right and see Haley there smiling up at Jack through tears of joy and laughter.

Finally, in the lobby while Jack was with his class getting their things together, it was time. Derek took his phone out and looked at Hotch a little expectantly when the screen began to show signs of life. They both saw it, the little flashing light that said he had a text. “No matter what, it's okay, right? If it didn't take this time, we'll try again...”

Hotch's sample had been hard to come by. The timing was off, his work schedule was impeding every attempt at an appointment he made, his stress levels were through the roof...he was starting to feel dead in the water before he'd even made it to the damn clinic.

“Yeah,” Hotch whispered, his breath caught in his throat. If it didn't take it would be entirely his fault and sure they could try again and again, but at a certain point it would be worth questioning how they were going about this. It was their second attempt. The first time, Hotch had wept for a whole night in spite of himself. Derek had to admit that he was disappointed, too, but he could see it for what it was: an imperfect science. They were warned it might take a few attempts and it wouldn't indicate anything wrong, not right away. But Hotch had a hard time seeing it that way when he thought back to the years and years that he and Haley had tried and failed, tried and nearly succeeded, tried and tried.

Derek held his phone up to Hotch, and through the shine of tears he saw the photo, the piece of paper with a big bold word printed right at the top of all the other various lab results. POSITIVE.

“You see it? You see what it says?” Derek asked, unable to wipe the smile from his face. Hotch sniffed and pulled his handkerchief from his pocket before nodding. He was staring at it. Couldn't take his eyes off of it. “We're doing this.”

His voice didn't seem to work, but Derek didn't mind that. He just held up his phone, snapped a picture of Hotch with tears in his eyes, and sent it to Sarah as confirmation that they were ecstatic.

In a few hours, after the Christmas market, they would be on a plane with Jack headed to Chicago to spend the week of Christmas with Derek's family and they would have to keep this quiet until Christmas morning. “Can we tell Jack?” Derek asked, and Hotch shook his head.

“No. Sarah wants everyone to find out when your mom does, she was adamant about that.”

“You don't think he can keep it a secret?”

“Derek. Jack has proven, time and again, to be abysmal at keeping even the most basic of secrets. I would love to tell him but I think it would be ill-advised.”

“All I heard was blah blah blah. Let's tell Jack. I want him to know he's going to be a big brother.” He paused, really taking a second to look at Hotch, at the way the color had drained from his cheeks and the tears glistened in his eyes. “Let's go sit down on that bench and wait for Jack before you pass out right here. We'll decide when we see him.”

Hotch allowed Derek to lead him to the bench, but he wasn't intending to budge on the rest. He was certain that they should not tell Jack, as much as they both wanted to. Until the minute that Jack appeared before them dressed like a little elf and even Hotch could hardly contain himself. With one sideways glance that Derek took as approval to spill the beans (whether it was or was not would be the topic of many discussions throughout the week), the words spilled out.

“Jack,” he said, pulling the kid into his lap. “You ready to be a big brother?”

(x)

There's regular snow and then there is Chicago snow. Hotch relinquished the driving reigns infrequently, but when the snow on the side of the road was piled up as high as the car, and the slush they had to drive in threw the car around like a rag doll, he handed the keys to Derek without any fuss. He could drive in regular snow, out on country roads was his specialty, but there was something daunting about having to adapt to both big city driving and deep snow that he simply couldn't manage. Something about it tipped the scales from him having control to having absolutely none.

The storm was moving in quickly, and they'd been fortunate that their plane had even been allowed to land at O'Hare, but they'd be pushing their luck to make it all the way to Fran's unscathed. By the end of the drive, the car was more like a sled on the big busy streets just sliding without traction, and once they were on the side streets the poor thing was working double time to pull itself through the mounds of wet slush and snow that wouldn't be plowed for days to come. But they made it in one piece and were ready to hunker down and wait out the rest of the storm inside Fran's nice warm home.

And they had four whole days to keep a huge secret from everyone.

The look on Sarah's face, the absolute bliss in her eyes when she reached out to hug Derek, Hotch knew it was going to be a difficult few days. And when she hugged him around the neck, he had to fight back more tears. He was on the verge of tears often, but this was far and away the worst it had ever been. Suddenly he was remembering that first few days after finding out that Haley was pregnant, it was funny how he'd managed to forget all of that now that Jack was older and everything had changed. Now, like he'd stepped into a time machine, he was feeling all those huge overwhelming things again. His life, Jack's life, this baby's life, they all flashed before his eyes. He squeezed Derek's hand out of desperation, and Derek squeezed him back out of love.

Dinner the first night was mostly quiet, with Sarah and Desiree bickering and Derek trying to mediate on Sarah's behalf. As the evening wore on, he began to get a little overbearing and Hotch had to tell him to back off of Desiree more than once.

“She's gonna stress Sarah out,” he hissed as they ducked around the corner. “She needs to back off.”

“Sarah will be fine.” It was Hotch's turn to be reasonable, to find himself slightly more even. His ulcer was still smoldering embers, but he felt more peaceful. The panic had, at least momentarily, subsided. “She's okay.” The strain in Derek's eyes, the absolute uncertainty and out of control feeling that seeped from him was concerning. He was going to blow the secret before anyone else by virtue of his need to care for his sister who was carrying his child.

“I need to take a walk,” Derek said finally, and Hotch nodded in agreement. “Get outta here for a bit. Get some fresh air.”

“Why don't you ask Sarah to go with you? I could use a ginger ale from the corner store.”

Derek reached out and pulled Hotch close to him, pressing their foreheads together. “You're a genius.”

“I know.”

They slept on the pull-out sofa bed with Jack on an air mattress nearby. Fran had made him up a bed, but he insisted on sleeping beside the Christmas tree and how could she say no to that? Beneath a mound of blankets, they listened to the gentle sound of Jack's little snores and whispered, conspired, smiled over the fact that soon they'd have another. And sleepless nights, they would have those too. Hotch was ready for those, he slept so little already.

“How are you so chill all of a sudden?” Derek whispered, his lips against Hotch's ear. It tickled and sent goosebumps in a flushing river down his spine.

“I remember this part. The anticipation. There's a lot of work to do, I like that.” What he meant to say was that there were things he could control now. He could build a crib and set up a bedroom, he could research and buy a car seat, he could do all of these things that would make him feel useful.

“I can't stop thinking about everything that could go wrong.”

“Derek, you said it yourself. You trust Sarah. More than anyone. That's why we asked her specifically.”

"You made a spreadsheet," Derek mumbled against Hotch's shoulder and they both let out low chuckles.

"I did."

Derek buried his face in Hotch's neck and sucked in a shaky breath. “But she lives here and we live there.”

That had been troubling to both of them, but Hotch knew they could make it work. It was a short flight, a slightly longer but still short drive, and they would simply find a way to make it work. She would have Fran here, and the rest of the Morgan family, she wouldn't be on her own. Not even if she wanted it. “It will all work out.”

The next few days flew by in a blur of shopping, eating and laughing with family. Groups of people would drop in with desserts and stay for coffee no matter the time of day, and Hotch felt like he'd inadvertently stepped into a time machine. Back to a time when his mother would keep cakes and other pastries in the freezer on the off chance that company dropped by. Fran's house was a sort of meeting place, a central location for everyone to gather with a full pot of coffee and plenty of seating. They were surrounded by company and laughter, sometimes loud bursts of song would erupt from out of nowhere.

And bickering. Derek and Sarah were at each other's throats, which Fran insisted was perfectly normal when it appeared to be stressing Hotch out. “They've always been like this.”

“How do you handle it?”

“Like this.” She smiled sweetly and stood, walking into the kitchen and approaching her arguing adult children like they were small, like she could ground them from the bikes and sports and summer vacation. It took a minute for her to find her leverage, but she managed and soon they were able to stand beside each other again without fighting.

Finally, the anticipation about at its maximum and Derek and Sarah nearly at their breaking point, Christmas morning arrived. Jack tore through his gifts with fervor, lavishing everyone with huge thanks and hugs. He played Santa, delivering gifts from beneath the tree to their new owners. Everyone got Hotch something warm. A box of fancy tea for relaxation, wool socks, gloves. Derek got vinyl records and new headphones, with a few boxes of screws and nails as a little joke because he always ran out in the middle of projects and had to run to the hardware store.

“Grandma!” Jack chirped, pulling a small gift from beneath the tree. It had been lodged way in the back, a small white box with delicate silver ribbon wrapped tight and topped by a perfectly symmetrical bow. Derek glanced at Hotch and knew, somehow, that he was responsible for the presentation. Fran held the box lightly, turning it over and over in her hands, giving it a little shake next to her ear only to hear nothing. The gift was light as air.

“It's a box!” she exclaimed, and Jack giggled with delight. “What a beautiful gift. I've always wanted a lovely little box. Think of all the things it'll hold.”

“Grandmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

She slipped the ribbon from the box carefully, all eyes on her. “Why are you all staring at me?” she asked, a little flushed, and Hotch thought for sure he was going to blow the whole thing by crying before she even knew what she was looking at. He glanced around the room and realized, with some certainty, that Fran was the only person who didn't know. Desiree and Jack's faces were shining with anticipation, and he and Derek were barely containing themselves. Beneath their shared blanket, they slotted their fingers together and held their breath.

Inside the box was silver tissue paper, delicate and soft, and tucked neatly beneath that was an ultrasound with Sarah's name at the top, and something that looked like a squishy little jellybean right in the center.

“Sarah?” she asked breathless, blinking, stunned. “You're pregnant?”

She grinned. “Yes, mama. I'm pregnant.”

“But you're not...” she was struggling, they could see, to put the pieces together. Sarah wasn't even dating anyone. She hadn't in forever, and she'd made it abundantly clear to the entire family that she did not want to have children. Or a relationship. “You said...”

“Read the back, mom.”

Fran flipped the picture over with one shaking hand and it was then, as she read the words scrawled on the back, that she began crying. And laughing. Wet, teary laughter rattled through the room.

“Hotchner-Morgan?” she gasped out, swiping at her eyes with the silver tissue paper absurdly. It was the closest thing she could grab. “You boys?”

“Yes, mama. It's our baby.” Derek paused and squeezed Hotch's hand beneath the blanket. “I thought we said it would be Morgan-Hotchner?”

“You asked me to write it because your handwriting is too sloppy. I made a choice. It's alphabetical.”

“Yeah, I'm sure that was your reason...”

Back home, they spent the rest of the week walking through Derek's house planning out the space. They'd forced themselves to wait until they had a positive result before they started making any real decisions. Hotch wouldn't re-up the lease on his apartment, that much was for certain. They'd managed to uphold two households the entire time and it was fine, but having a baby made it pretty clear that they would no longer be playing that game. Hotch and Jack would move in with Derek full time, and good riddance to that apartment as far as Derek was concerned.

They spent the week slowly moving things over, little things, knickknacks and Jack's art and his favorite bedroom items. They would save the big stuff for later, Hotch still had three months on his lease and then there was the issue of his storage unit full of he and Haley's things. Derek placed a photo of Haley on the mantle beside the rest of their family, a gesture that Hotch would never have asked of him, and once more he found himself with tears on his cheeks. He knew Sarah's hormones would be all wild and out of control, but he was starting to feel like he was experiencing them for himself firsthand.

On New Year's Eve, Penelope and Dave came over to celebrate with them. They were going to tell the team slowly, disperse the information quietly, but it started with those two over glasses of champagne as they counted down the hours to midnight. To a new year filled with possibilities and growth. Hotch's last couple of years had been hard, and he felt hopeful for once. He was overwhelmed by that feeling, and exhausted by it all.

To no one's surprise, by the time the ball was dropping so so slowly on the television and all of New York City was counting backwards from ten live, Hotch and Derek were fast asleep beneath a blanket. They were completely worn out by the week they'd spent joining their households and dreaming of a new baby that was a perfect mixture of both of them. There was still so much more work to be done.

With some urging from a slightly drunk Penelope, Jack slipped his dad's phone off of the table and snapped a photo of them lying there snoring at the stroke of midnight. Dave kissed Penelope on the cheek and Penelope kissed Jack on the cheek and they sent the photo of the two sleeping men on the couch to Jess with the caption “too old for New Years”.

“They think they're tired now,” Dave said, tucking Jack into his bed before he and Penelope left for the night. Derek and Hotch slept soundly on the couch, and no one had the heart to try and get them to move to their bed. They simply looked too peaceful. “Just wait until that baby comes.”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jack hotchner #fran morgan #sarah morgan #the morgan family #david rossi #penelope garcia #criminal minds #christmas to new years fluff

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lovely-studies · 9 months

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109/300 films in 2023

╰┈➤ Disaster Movie (2008)

Dir. Jason Friedberg, Aaron Seltzer

#absolute GARBAGE #lovely-films #disaster movie

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tumblintuck · 8 months

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Do you think Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer ever explored each other's bodies

#truly stupid variation on this joke

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littletroubledgrrrl · 1 year

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Since she used to appear in these Aaron Seltzer and Jason Friedberg movies ("Epic Movie", "Disaster Movie", "Meet the Spartans", etc.).

I wonder if when Aaron Seltzer and Jason Friedberg die, if there'll be people posting "You'll be missed Seltzerberg!" and "Thanks for the memories Seltzerberg!" and sharing their memories of their movies, despite their movies used to get major amounts of hatred and still do today?

When "Twilight" author Stephanie Meyers dies, will there be people posting "You'll be missed Stephanie!" and "Thanks for the memories!" to her, even though the "Twilight" books and movies got massive amounts of hatred and still do today.

Especially, when Snooki, The Situation, Pauly D, JWoww, etc. from "Jersey Shore", New York/Tiffany Pollard from Vh1's "Flavor or Love" and "I Love New York" or some other trashy reality TV star dies, will there be people posting "Thanks for the memories Snooki/Pauly D/The Situation/New York!" and "You'll be missed Snooki/Pauly D/The Situation!", at them, even though "Jersey Shore" and their stars used to get huge amounts of hatred?

Jerry Springer has recently died and there are so many people saying "You'll be missed Jerry!" and "Thanks for the memories Jerry!" fondly and not in a sarcastic tone and sharing their memories of his infamous talk show, even though his infamous talk show he'll always be remembered for used to get massive amounts of hatred and still even does today---"The Jerry Springer Show" used to get as much hatred as "Twilight", Seltzerberg parody movies and "Jersey Shore" got in this century.

Not to mention "The Jerry Springer Show" paved the way for a lot of these trashy 21st Century reality shows like "Jersey Shore" today, even Jerry himself admits that.

#carmen electra #seltzerberg

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agendaculturaldelima · 1 month

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#ProyeccionDeVida

🎬 “LA PRIMERA PROFECIA” [The First Omen]

🔎 Género: Terror / Thriller / Precuela

⌛️ Duración: 120 minutos

✍️ Guión: Tim Smith, Arkasha Stevenson y Keith Thomas

🙈 Personajes: David Seltzer

🎼 Música: Mark Korven

📷 Fotografía: Aaron Morton

🗯 Argumento: Cuando una joven estadounidense viaja a la ciudad de Roma para iniciar una vida de servicio a la Iglesia, se topa con una oscuridad que pone en cuestión su propia fe y descubre una conspiración aterradora que espera provocar el nacimiento de la encarnación del mal. La cinta es la precuela de 'La Profecía [The Omen]' (1976).

👥 Reparto: Nell Tiger Free (Margaret Daino), Sônia Braga (Silvia), Bill Nighy (Lawrence), Ralph Ineson (Padre Brennan), Andrea Arcangeli (Paolo), Tawfeek Barhom (Gabriel), Charles Dance (Padre Harris), Ishtar Currie Wilson (Anjelica), Mia McGovern Zaini (Beatrice), María Caballero (Luz) y Alessia Bonnaci (Enfermera)

📢 Dirección: Arkasha Stevenson

💻 Distribuidora: 20th Century Fox

🌎 Países: Estados Unidos-Italia

📅 Año: 2024

📌 ESTRENO:

📆 Jueves 04 de Abril

📽 Cartelera Nacional: Cineplanet / Cinemark Perú / Cinépolis / Multicines Cinestar

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tctmp · 1 year

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Comedy

#superfast!

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cinefilesreviews · 2 years

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The Friedberg-Seltzer Massacre: Vampires Suck (2010), The Starving Games (2013)

This is the fifth installment in “The Friedberg-Seltzer Massacre: How Two Men Single-Handedly Destroyed the Parody Genre.” In this penultimate installment, we will examine two of the late career parodies of Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer: Vampires Suck and The Starving Games. As I see it, Friedberg and Seltzer’s career can be separated into two distinct phases. There are two reasons why I…

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#2010 #2013 #2015 #Aaron Seltzer #Jason Friedberg #movie review #parody #The Starving Games #Vampires Suck #worst movies

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kevinsreviewcatalogue · 1 year

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Review: The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! (1988)

The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad! (1988)

Rated PG-13

Score: 5 out of 5

The Naked Gun, a feature film version of the Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker team's short-lived but well-remembered 1982 ABC cop show parody Police Squad! (as its subtitle suggests), was the final movie that the three of them all worked on together, and it stands as a testament to why Jim Abrahams and the brothers David and Jerry Zucker are still considered some of the best film comics of all time, the capstone to an excellent run of madcap comedy spoofs spanning the late '70s and the '80s. The story, about the elite Los Angeles cop Frank Drebin investigating a drug ring that evolves into him foiling a plot to assassinate Queen Elizabeth II during her goodwill tour of the US, is secondary to ZAZ's trademark rapid-fire humor, where they never waste an opportunity to cram in some funny jokes into every scene possible, and even craft some running gags out of them. Fart jokes, sex jokes, pee jokes, jokes about bad driving, jokes about bad parking, jokes about refrigerators full of spoiled food, jokes about expensive objects getting destroyed, jokes about the beautiful woman whose longing over-the-shoulder stare at the protagonist means that she trips up because she's not watching where she's going, and above all else, jokes about bumbling cops who seem to solve the case purely by accident. It's a style of comedy that's harder to get right than it looks, as evidenced by the many films in the '90s and '00s that tried to imitate the ZAZ style, to varying degrees of success ranging from the Wayans Brothers' more Black-focused spin on the style to the absolute hackery of Aaron Seltzer and Jason Friedberg.

The key ingredient here is Leslie Nielsen as Frank Drebin in his stock comedy persona. The thing about Nielsen is that, prior to the '80s, he was known as a serious dramatic actor, and even here, he carries with him a particular type of old-fashioned leading man flair straight out of the '50s and '60s, all the better for him to play a parody of the kind of upright police officer that Jack Webb idealized in Dragnet. The thing about Nielsen is that, even when his character is in the middle of humorous situations and being made the butt of countless jokes, you can still picture him as the serious version of this character, the straightforward detective protagonist of a CBS cop drama. It's like watching David Caruso or Mark Harmon do a spoof of CSI or NCIS without once winking at the camera to let you know that they're in on the joke, even though all the humorous mishaps they get into indicate that they very much are. Nielsen was a master at this sort of humor, blending a straight-man persona with zany antics that are made that much funnier by the guy they're happening to, and this film is an ample demonstration of just why he was so good at this sort of comedy.

The machine-gun speed of the jokes, meanwhile, ensures that even the occasional groaner would quickly be forgotten once the next ten or so zingers whipped by, while the jokes that work never stick around for too long and wear out their welcome. The film's sense of humor is filthy enough for a PG-13 rating, but in a decidedly schoolboy manner, too amused by the comic slapstick it does so well to get really mean-spirited or offensive; you won't really find this movie punching down and mocking people who don't clearly deserve it. It aims its barbs upwards at authority figures, Frank most of all, and mines humor out of amusing scenes like a scared teenage student driver being forced into a car chase and turning into a legitimately badass driver, or Frank forgetting to turn off his microphone during a... private moment. There is a plot, and a host of supporting characters played by talented actors like Priscilla Presley, Ricardo Montalbán, and, uh, O. J. Simpson (as an LA cop!), but none of that is important, and neither are any greater themes; barring some jokes making fun of Frank's trigger-happy ways, don't expect to find much satire of real-life issues surrounding law enforcement. After all, this movie's not a satire, it's a farce, and it's interested in mining as many gut-busting laughs as it can out of as many people as it can.

The Bottom Line

The Naked Gun is another one of those quick reviews of a good comedy where there's not really much to say beyond "I laughed my ass off." Yeah, it's really funny, it still holds up, and I had a blast watching this at the Film Junkies' 35th anniversary screening. Not much more to say, except go check it out for yourself if you haven't.

#the naked gun #1988 #movies #comedy #leslie nielsen #crime movies #o. j. simpson #george kennedy #david zucker #zucker abrahams and zucker #zaz #priscilla presley

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