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callsign-daydream · 1 year

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A Squadron of Fools

Summary: It's April Fool's Day on base. You know this can only mean one thing for the Dagger Squadron. Inspired by this post.

Warnings: Starred out swearing, yelling, general Navy/Military inaccuracies, Dagger DummiesTM, Mav schooling these punks, general tomfoolery, just some dumb fun really with no plot in sight, OC included

Word count: 1174

A/N: This drabble includes my OC, Hallie "Daydream" A-Jones. You can read about her here. Also, this is my first time sharing any of my TGM writing so be patient if it's OOC/poorly written lol~

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April 1st, 0600 Hours

“I have cannolis!”

Hallie “Daydream” A-Jones waltzed into the briefing room, a tray of non-regulation sweets in hand. The smell of sugar wafted up into the room where a couple of her fellow pilots were already seated.

“Yeah, right,” said Coyote from his seat on a table. “Like I’d eat anything you brought in today. How’d you even get that on base?”

“Suit yourself.” Daydream ignored his question. Instead, she plucked out a cannoli and took a bite.

Coyote raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Her action drew the attention of Bob, ever the first one there. His eyes ogled the tray, looking wide enough to reach the rims of his glasses.

“I’ll take one,” the WSO said.

Daydream was only happy to oblige. The tray was placed in front of Bob, who eagerly grabbed one. Just as he brought it to his mouth, his beloved frontseater walked in. Seeing the scene, Phoenix's eyes widened to match Bob’s, stuffed full of horror like the condemned cannoli.

“Don’t eat that!”

Too late.

Bob coughed on impact. He was overpowered by the sound of both Daydream and Coyote cackling loud enough to echo around the entire room. Phoenix instantly was patting Bob on the back, shaking her head, though it wasn't clear if it was at the prank itself or Bob's willingness to believe in it.

“Mayonnaise, really, Hallie?” Bob looked up with puppy eyes.

“Come on, Bob,” Phoenix said. “You know better.”

“She ate one!”

Hallie grinned and took another bite of her own cannoli. “Made sure to make a regular one for myself.”

Coyote shook his head. “You’re bad, Daydream.”

“You might say a nightmare dressed like a daydream.”

Phoenix groaned. “Not the Taylor Swift reference.”

The four continued preparing for the day's meeting with absent-minded chatter, Phoenix and Daydream moving into discussing a certain "snack" of a man who’d been at the Hard Deck the previous night, when Payback and Fanboy strode in. Payback marched straight to Coyote and threw a plastic spider at him.

“Not funny man,” Payback complained.

“Serves you right for freezing Captain Kirk in my Tupperware.” Fanboy shoved his squad mate.

Any Payback commentary was interrupted by the stomping boots of Bradley Bradshaw.

“Alright, which one of you chuckleheads thought it was funny to hurt Sharona?!”

Everyone knew Rooster’s beloved Bronco was lovingly dubbed Sharona, and whenever he played “My Sharona” at the Hard Deck, it was an ode to the old truck. To target the vehicle for April Fool’s Day was below the belt.

“What happened?” Phoenix asked, not looking up from her notepad.

“Someone covered her in **** sticky notes! I was raining papers down the freeway!”

The group immediately began chuckling, which only led to Rooster’s mustache turning down further. The only one who seemed to remain somewhat calm was Phoenix, her smirk the exact opposite of the young Bradshaw’s.

“Surprised you missed the one on the side view mirror,” she said. “I don’t leave my art unsigned.”

“Fee, I will–”

Before Rooster could crow the rest of the threat, he was interrupted by yet another victim.

“Whoever did this is ****-ing dead!”

Any other pranks were forgotten in the wake of a red faced and blue haired Hangman. From tip to root, it looked like someone had dunked him in blue raspberry Kool Aid. The only thing louder than the color was the laughter of the rest of the squadron.

Hangman growled in reply. “You better confess now if you know what’s good for you.”

More laughing. Hangman scanned the room, instantly settling on his usual target. Hands snatched the front of Rooster’s jumpsuit. The latter seemed unaffected, tears beginning to form from his laughter. Any thought of poor Sharona’s lost dignity was forgotten for now.

“I don’t know how you got in my place, but you’ll pay for this, Rooster.”

“Lay off, Bagman.” Rooster choked out his defense between chuckles, hands raised. “I wish it was me. But it wasn’t.”

“Well it was somebody!”

“Why don’t you try Mav? Or Fee?”

“Hey!” Phoenix yelled.

“You son of a–”

A chair screeched on the floor.

“Let him go, Hangman,” said Daydream. “I think the blue looks nice on you.”

Hangman stared. Everyone stared. Rooster was released to laugh-cry to his heart’s content, and Hallie simply smiled like a Disney princess, a twinkle in her eyes.

“You?!”

“Uh oh,” Phoenix whispered to Bob. “He can’t punch his little crush.”

“Had it, Trace,” Jake said. He turned back to Hallie. “You’ll pay for this, Dreamgirl.”

“Oh please, tell me more, Bagman.”

"Alright, alright, everyone settle down.” Maverick’s entrance broke the group, though Hangman gave a look to Hallie signaling their conversation wasn’t over. Once everyone was seated, Maverick stepped to his own chair, though he paused with a smirk.

He held up a whoopie cushion. “That the best you got?”

Fanboy let out a curse.

“Let’s get to business." Maverick chucked the toy over his shoulder. "Nice hair, by the way, Hangman, though I don’t think that’s regulation.”

More laughter, and another curse from little boy blue.

“Now, we have a serious mission coming up, and I believe Admiral Simpson is here to brief us. Daydream, I’d hide that tray before he gets in here, and no, I don’t want whatever toothpaste or mayonnaise filling you put in those.”

Hallie quickly shoved the tray under her chair. Bob turned back to stick his tongue out at her, which she hastily returned.

Admiral Simpson was right on time. His face set, back straight, uniform pressed. As clean as ever, but with one exception. An exception that, as he passed each set of aviators, caused each of them to bite lips, cover mouths, and shut eyes in a fight for silence.

The sight of the legendary Cyclone walking in, blissfully unaware of the honey and feathers covering the backend of his pants, was almost a harder test than any they’d experienced in the air.

Even as he turned around to brief the pilots, each had to keep up the fight. Bob stared down at his paper. Fanboy chewed his pen, Phoenix inspected her nails. Rooster appeared to be actively pulling out his mustache. Payback and Coyote both appeared constipated. Daydream was about to make her lip bleed from biting it, and even Hangman uncharacteristically had no commentary that morning.

The only party that appeared unaffected was Maverick.

“I’ll take your silence as a sign you all understand the upcoming mission,” Cyclone finished. “Is that a correct assumption?”

Fanboy choked out a weak, “Yes, sir.”

Cyclone’s eyebrows twitched for a moment, but he evidently chose not to question the surprise tranquility of the typically chaotic squadron. With a nod to Maverick, he took his exit, prompting a whole other round of coughing, knuckle biting, and more. The moment the door shut, it was like the room was filled with laughing gas.

“Who did that?!”

“Dude! You’re getting discharged!”

“How?”

Maverick cleared his throat. All eight eyes turned to him, the laughter only mildly stifled.

“And that, recruits, is how it’s done.” Mav grinned. “And I made sure to get pictures of all your faces looking like they’re about to explode for my own personal file. Also, I doubt Admiral Simpson will believe you if you try to say I did it."

Jaws dropped and eyes widened. Maverick’s grin only grew as he strode out.

“Ten minutes. I’ll see you fools on the tarmac.”

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rosiethorns88 · 3 years

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So very excited to finally reveal this papercraft design, inspired by Kingdom of the Wicked by Kerri Maniscalco. The original design for this papercraft, (before a quick wardrobe change) was featured on a booksleeve included alongside a beautiful pin in the Beacon Book Box Bitty Box for the special ✨✨GILDED-EDGES✨✨ edition of the book!

From the very beginning I've always loved the design of this piece, in particular the snake/skull imagery. Kerri's Pinterest board was SUCH an inspiration for the art direction and really helped me settle into the mood for this design.

Since Wrath was described favoring long robes, I really went ham on the golden snake, wanting to show off his freakin' cool tattoo in some fashion. The apple was a fun allegory to the temptation of the Garden of Eden's serpent, except here Wrath is offering his hand (in partnership) rather than the apple. You'll also find some other nods to the summoning scene in the bones/candles/fern imagery in the surrounding branches. It's such a witchy-moody-broody piece, and really high up with my favorites so far!

The book was such a refreshing setting to romp around in, and I love the direction it's heading into its sequels. But hoooo boy if you all pick up this book, do NOT read it hungry.

#kingdom of the wicked #kerri maniscalco #kotw #kingdom of the cursed #kotc #leave the dagger take the cannoli #papercraft #my art

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darklove9314-blog · 3 years

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⚠️Kingdom of the Cursed Spoilers⚠️

-I knew Emilia and Wrath were still betrothed the moment she mentioned she still had her tattoo!!!

-the dagger scene!!!

-Emilia is canonically a fan of Enemies to lover.

-Is she going to give the truth wine to Wrath???

-Lady em???

-I’m really not a huge fan of chapter 17…….what the hell is Wrath doing?

-Wrath deserves a throat punch for chapter 17

-I take back the book boyfriend card for Wrath…like I know it’s for training but does he have to humiliate Emilia to do it???

-Poor Emilia.

-He definitely deserves her anger.

-Emilia, my vengeful queen. 👑👑👑

-Why do I have a feeling that Wrath and Pride are the same person??? There’s too many quotes about his pride to be a coincidence.

-Still mad at Wrath, but him trying to teach Emilia how to dance is cute…

-Why is Antonio there???

-Who the hell tried to kill Emilla???!!!!!!

-I don’t blame Emilia for stress cooking.

-Wrath offer to help her cook ❤️❤️❤️

-Wrath is the cannoli king lol

-I wonder if she’ll ever tell Wrath that Envy took her magic…

-DAMMIT WRATH YOU DID NOT LEAVE HER LIKE THAT!!!

-Oh no the dreaded seed word…

-Damned visions…

-Wrath naming his horses after the four horsemen 😂😂😂

-Are we in House Pride????

-But why is Gluttony actually one of my favorite brothers so far??? (Besides wrath of course)

-If the first book didn’t make me hungry…this one sure did

-About time we meet Pride!!!!

-Is it a bit of a coincidence that Wrath is no where to be found when Pride is around 🤔🤔🤔

-Nevermind Wrath and Pride are in the same room, it was a fun theory while it lasted

-He was the guy who told her to get off her horse!!!

-But why the hell does Wrath keep disappearing???

-Wrath offered up his greatest fear so Emilia wouldn’t have to OMG!!! This book better not pull a 180 or I fucking swear…..

-Well I didn’t expect they wanted that to happen,

-The chamber scene 🔥🔥🔥

-Emilia!!!! I should have expected that lol

-She guessed his name right!!!

-Wrath is the devil!!!! So do we call him Wrath or Samiel??

-Only Wrath would keep the temptation key as a paperweight

-I still think that the secret Wrath was going to offer up was that he was actually the devil,

-Vittoria is still alive!!!

-YOU DID NOT END IT THAT WAY!!!! OMG!!!!!

#kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #prince wrath #wrath and emilia #emilia di carlo #kerri maniscalco

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we-dragons · 3 years

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I'm from a different dimension actually Damian X Reader

Pulled away to another world, Y/N uses magic science and a Little bird to help her get back home and possibly be rid of an apocalyptic event. "So, will you succumb to your doubts completely or step into the sun of this new world?"

"Aw man, this drags!" This wasn't the first time I moaned out in boredom. But then again I wasn't always in a classroom filled with rich privileged kids. "Well Y/N if you didn't always study the curriculum you might have a challenge for once," Molly said laughing at me. Molly my best friend and rival, blonde that swayed at her ankles while she stood and swept the floor when she sat her skin was so white it was almost the color of brand new paper but that also meant she was highly allergic to the sun she pretty much bathed in sunscreen. despite her paleness, her eyes weren't pink but an odd color of blue.

"Molly I know that you like slacking but I plan for other things relating to my future you know like a collage. Some of us are not only children of a rich family regarding security." I tease her my boredom slowly leaving me. I had been friends with her since I was emitted into the school, we fought over a cannoli at lunch and ended up sharing it because we needed to move in the line. She smirked at me before laughing catching the attention of the class, earning odd looks from our classmates. With how the ranking system worked in our school you were placed by your social class and your grades, so being that I was hanging out with one of the richest kids in the world was already crashing the class system. But being that I had the better grades of the school (when I say better I mean the best of the school) they couldn't complain. In a way I was untouchable.

As Molly and I continued talking the bell rang signaling for us to go home. We walked outside, Taking to her family car like I did every day and waved her off as I walked home, I tried staying clear of the alleyways on my way back to my apartment building after all the streets weren't exactly safe in Gotham. My apartment resided in a building covered in ivy and was right above a small coffee shop. I went through the back door and headed up to my room, apartment 13 on the second floor that didn't help much though the whole building smelled like coffee and sugar. Unlocking my door I walk to the kitchen and grab a cherry soda grabbing my homework and heading to my room. I lived alone despite being only 16 years old I got this place technically from the government, well I suppose not alone I do have Nightmare. Then I froze just remembering the cat, There was a reason why I named it Nightmare, one being slick and black, with red piercing eyes, the other-

"OW! Holy son of a Snickerdoodle on the fourth of July!" I look down at the cat the digging his teeth and claws into my ankle. he unhooks his teeth and claws tilting his head up he meows at me. Two he attacks out of thin air, and mostly your feet but he's adorable so there's no going back from that. " You sneaky and little cute little demon." I pick him up scratching his back he purrs at my touch leaning in. I look outside and it dark already, he must have come in to tell me to make dinner. I didn't take long making him his food and me heating my sembosa and seated at my table. I put the sembosa in my mouth, and I hear Nightmare hissing over in the living room, and a crash of glass in the living room. I rush out of my seat turning to the damage, a bleeding boy in a red costume laid on my coffee table. I run closer and take a look at him, on his chest was a small black patch with a golden R stitched to it under it was a familiar large cut turning green. "Oh no." I hear a moan and I look to the face of the stranger he wore a green mask that covered part of his face but as far as I can tell he's half-conscious. " I can't believe they're back, and I left that place so they couldn't find me I guess it was going to be a matter of time." I run my hand through my hair, from the greenness on his wound he probably killed the thing while it slashed at him which would explain the taintedness of the injury. I swung open my closet and grabbed the box with the X painted on it, opening it I take out the box covered in Celtic Knotts and open that as well. And I pull out an iridescent scale. I run back to the boy, "Hey! Hey!" I slap him till I see a shift on his face. "I'm going to help you but you need to eat this, okay?" He nodded and I stuffed the thing in his mouth, I hear him chew and I get to work on the gash, cleaning, and stitching as carefully as possible.

I woke up on the love seat in front of the coffee table, I was groggy and covered in blood and sore. I am still am holding the box full of scales so I lift it and it's lighter then it should. I shoot up opening the box, my heart sinks. My eyes look up to the coffee table to the and see the boy sitting upright holding my bag of glinting scales his green gloves holding them by the ribbon black hair cascaded over his face, to be honest, it looked odd. I come back to my senses and snatch the bag from him. "those are dangerous," I quickly put the bag into the box, and look back at him. "you need to rest that wound won't heal well unless rest. especially With what you fought, I'm uncertain on how you even managed to survive this that long and crash into my window," I hold the box close to my chest, "just who are you Mr. Cloak-and-Dagger?"

He scoffs. "This is a joke right what are those things." He points to my box.

"It's something precious and rare now answer me window breaker, Just who are you?" I glare at him. "Might I remind you I saved your life?" The intruder glared back with equal intensity.

"My name is Robin son of Batman." He said as if he had a foul taste in his mouth.

"Well Robin son of Batman," I said, " can you tell me how you're going to fix my window?"

#batfam #marvel universe #dc universe #xreader #damian wayne #faerie #slow burn #Damian Wayne x reader #Teen titans #Mutants #Damian x reader

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stunudo · 6 years

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BAU Prep School AU: 2018

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. 2016-2017 school year Class of 18

(Image link)

Uphill

September 11, 2017 6:58am

Grant Anderson had barely slept the night before in worry over remembering to cast the school flags at half-mast. It had been an annual tradition since before he took over from the old groundskeeper, an indeterminate amount of years ago. He arrived at the school in the peaceful, yet creeping silence of the pre-student hours. He quickly parked in his usual spot and rounded the school in nearly a circumferential path, the American and Virginia State flags were listless on the solitary hill before the student parking lot. He said a simple prayer of remembrance as he steadily lowered the cords.

He sighed as he walked into the building, the heavy front doors creaking in the quiet. Grant Anderson turned to open his office and begin his day but something in his periphery stopped him. He paused and spun back to the large entrance hall that broke out into twin curving stone stairwells. There in the middle of the space was a stone table, where a tiny, antique, single-person submarine was held inside a glass display case. It was held, because in that moment Grant Anderson found it missing. In its place was a very underwhelming plastic model and a notecard. In stunned silence he approached the case, which was meticulously wiped down after the switch. The note read: ‘Good luck without Old Unity guiding your way.- New Canaan International School.’

Grant hunched over to read the note under his breath, “Oh shit.”

7:19am

Kate didn’t appreciate the incessant media reminders of the day that tore her family apart. She leaned against their kitchen island while Kit was talking to his toys instead of eating his cereal. She remained in her flannel pants and thermal long sleeve pajama top; this was not a day she chose to deal with people, especially not teenagers who couldn’t completely grasp the meaning of the anniversary. Someone of them weren’t even born, like Meg. It had been sixteen years since her mother, Kate’s sister went to work in Manhattan and the entire world changed.

Still, Meg was her silver-lining. The most impossible outcome of that day and the trauma it caused. Two years after losing contact, Kate’s sister Liz showed up on her doorstep, homeless, pregnant and desperate. And today that silver-lining was taking her time in the shower.

“Meg!” Kate called up the stairs, the water audibly gushing through the thin door.

Meanwhile Meg was sitting on the closed toilet lid, texting Maya as she walked into school. She was dressed and avoiding the awkwardness of the day as long as possible. She loved her aunt and uncle, but somedays she wondered what it would have been like if her mom were around. If maybe, just maybe she got her shit together. The brunette girl sighed and locked her phone. Time to start their yearly ritual and try not to make Kate cry, more.

Sept. 12 4:02pm

Coach Morgan wasn’t holding a standard practice today, instead he was in full Under Armor running outfit; his ripped body hugged thoroughly. He stood stone faced waiting for the team to exit the locker rooms in their running gear. Eventually his forty players were lined up before him, three uneven rows of bulky teenagers.

“Submariners!” The Coach’s deep voice barked in to the afternoon heat. “The New Canaan Cougars disrespected us this weekend. Those fools stepped foot in our house and took our mascot. Now!” He began pacing in front of his team. “Are you going to put up with that?”

“No!” A few players answered in various ways.

“I’m sorry? Are you going to LET them disrespect this school?!” He cocked his head to the side in exaggerated listening.

“NO, SIR!” Forty voices proclaimed.

Coach Morgan grinned, “That’s right. We won’t be able to put the pain to those guys until playoffs, but, for now, we run laps. Together. As a team. Because we don’t lose focus and we don’t back down.”

Derek grabbed his whistle off his chest, “Line up by jersey number, we stick together.” The whistle blast got the kids scrambling to fall into line. He waited a minute before giving another shrill alarm, sending Iggy Cruz, the kicker, off to lead the team down the hill. Derek knew the pace would quickly dwindle as they fought to keep their spacing even to his attentive glare. He followed behind his number 93 for the first lap as soon as he crossed their starting point he sprinted to the front of the pack, taking over the lead. It was going to be a long practice, for coach and players alike. In the middle of all the sweat and swearing and straining bodies, May Howard was formulating a plan.

Sept. 14 12:57pm

Jordan Kyle and Alex Blake were making quiet conversation across the staff table as Spencer was munching on his perfectly edged sandwich while reading over some worksheets. The lunch Chef Rossi prepared smelled amazing, yet still he dutifully ate his prepared sack lunch. The women were whispering about more personal details of their summers and Spencer was dutifully playing ignorant. What Stan Kyle had removed from where, was really none of his business, nor how long it took to get him back to, uh, normal in any arena.

The wizened Chef had been avoiding the sixth period lunch hour in the staff room because he was avoiding his ex-wife, though not belligerently; more like a puppy that had to lick his wounds after a round of play that was more than he bargained for. Today, he had outdone himself and needed the extra time for preparations; he quietly made his way towards the half-occupied table with his own tray of food.

“David! This is amazing quiche!” Jordan covered her full mouth with her hand as she spoke. Her bright eyes sparkling with delight. He shrugged, smugly.

“Wait until you get to the cannoli.” Alex murmured conspiratorially.

“How’s everyone? I fell like I haven’t heard much from you lot.” Dave tried making small talk.

“Good!” Spencer perked up. “Hotch gave me a prep period this year and you wouldn’t believe how much time I have now.”

“That’s great kid.” Rossi nodded, inspecting his slice of cheesy egg bake. It was a little moist, he took a mental note.

“How was Turkey?” Jordan asked him, Alex unsubtly rolling her eyes at her friend and colleague.

“It was great, Jordan, thanks for asking.” He grinned, the amusement at Alex’s uncomfortableness equal parts reassuring and instigating. “Cyprus was my favorite though.”

“Cyprus third largest and third most populated island in the Mediterranean?” Spencer added after a few eye daggers and a swift kick from Alex beneath the table.

“Right from the brochure, look at that.” Dave deadpanned. “The people were great, really welcoming. It’s amazing, the ones who have the least in this world are willing to share the most.”

“The constructs of community vary from culture to culture, but the village mentality leaves personal possessions nearly impossible. It is innate generosity.” Spencer built on the complexities of Dave’s experiences.

“Well said.” Alex finally spoke up, after the bell rang, freeing her from Dave’s retelling of the vacation that could have been hers.

Sept. 15 11:38am

As a new student in the middle of her high school career, Lena Curtis was less concerned with fitting in and more focused on keeping up with the rigors of the new academic environment. She had been eating alone, earbuds in while reading over assignments or syllabi. Lucas and Jake had been watching her on and off the first week of school, both innately empathetic and seated in the cafeteria two tables away. Now, they just had to acknowledge that they had been staring and perhaps they could talk to her. Fortunately for all them, May Howard wasn’t one for beating around the bush.

“You guys going to invite her to eat with us or do I have to?” She huffed as she sat down between Jake and her more socially acceptable twin, Cissy.

“Be our guest, Howard.” Lucas took a massive bite of his panini as he waited for her to own up to her bluff. She looked to Jake and back to the smug lineman. She slid back off the bench seat, shoving her hands in the pockets of her pressed khakis. She didn’t want to scare the new girl, Azalene, she remembered from last period Physics.

“Hey.” May’s voice was gruff because she was trying to remain calm. “So, a few of us have Physics with you and were wondering if you want to sit with us. It’s cool if you’d rather study, I know there is a lot of homework and I don’t want to pressure you into a forced social in—”

“No, that’s fine. Nice, I mean. Thanks.” The girl’s twin French braids bobbed with her enthusiasm. “I’m Lena, by the way.”

“May, I mean—I am May.” She stepped back as Lena grabbed her stuff, giving her lunch group a double thumbs’ up behind the acquired newbie’s back. Jake’s face broke into his signature grin while Lucas waved obviously. “The big one is Turner, Lucas, then there’s Jake and Cissy.”

“She’s your sister, right?” Lena looked down, either because she was trying to hear May or because she didn’t like looking people in the eye, it was hard to tell.

“Yeah, stuck with her since birth, but its fine. She grows on you.” May shrugged as a half smirk quirked up her usually hidden dimple.

“Hi!” Lena smiled shyly as she say down with her backpack and tray.

“Atta-girl, Howard,” Coach Morgan muttered his approval of his player reaching out to one of the new kids.

“What’s up?” Luke Alvez leaned in, following Derek’s line of sight.

“One of my kids reached out to the Curtis girl. Glad she had the balls, so to speak.”

“Right, Lena. It’s about time, they’re in my next hour together.” Luke shrugged. “Cafeteria duty is pretty chill, huh?”

“As long as nobody crosses Turner over there,” Tara Lewis nodded back to the group they’d been watching.

“Oh, come on now, that’s not fair.” Derek laughed. “Turner is good. Honestly I can’t think of anyone in here we really have to worry about.”

“Why are so many of us on this hour?” Tara asked confused.

“I think it’s a ratio thing, fifth hour has more students having lunch, so there are more of us. Hotch knows what he’s doing.” Derek shrugged, not mentioning that Lewis and Alvez were still new to the school and Hotch wouldn’t leave them to the wolves alone. Derek wasn’t complaining, having back to back lunch breaks were the dream. Meanwhile, Tara shifted from foot to foot. She hated losing her momentum in the middle of the day, she felt like cafeteria duty was a fairly menial task. Luke was quizzing himself on student’s names and learning who were friends outside of class.

Sept. 25 6:37pm

Derek walked behind Penelope as she strutted into the library, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for the coming meeting. The first Booster Club gathering of the new school year, which meant new students, new ideas and old standbys making the upcoming calendar filled with possibilities. She carefully placed the school’s tablet and her phone on the central table. Grant had rearranged the hefty study desks into a semicircle complete by a collection of chairs in arching rows for the parents and additional student participants.

“Okay, thanks for coming to the Fall meeting again. I know you’ve got your hands full this season and it means a lot that you’re here tonight.” She made sure to give her boyfriend her appreciation, who had yet to be home from school for the day.

“Hey, this is important to me too. Don’t worry about me, I’m good.” Derek held her hand against his chest. “You ready?”

“For another record-breaking year? Hell yeah. Let’s just hope everyone else is.” She grinned before sneaking a quick kiss. They were still alone anyhow.

The meeting went effortlessly, or Penelope Garcia and Michel Foyet were so prepared that it felt more like a conversation than an agenda-riddled requirement. Derek sat calmly to Penny’s right as Mrs. Jordan Kyle was to her left, nodding and smiling in encouragement. The parents were enthusiastic and those that usually overreached were pleasantly absent. Midway through a mother and son made their way to the back of the meager crowd, Penelope smiled as they sat down nervously. The meeting wrapped up before the hour was up, leaving the attendees to break into their own bubbles of conversation. Jordan thanked Penelope for a job well done and went home without much fuss.

Derek and Mr. Howard were talking football as Penelope approached the late arrivals.

“Hi! I’m Ms. Garcia, welcome to the Boosters Club.” She held out her violet manicured hand to the mother and then the anxiously quiet boy.

“Thanks, I’m Rebecca Garner, this is Regi, he’s a freshman this year.” The brunette woman confided in a slight accent.

“Regi is short for Reginald, right? How royal.” Penelope grinned, letting the student roll his eyes at her observation. “If you are looking for service to the school hours, check with Michel, they have the sign-up lists for the semester.”

Regi nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. Rebecca looked impatient with the gesture but smiled sympathetically to Ms. Garcia anyhow. “Thanks, nice meeting you.”

“Of course, thanks for coming.”

Derek called for Chinese pick up as Penelope cleaned up the library from the meeting. She hated leaving it less than she had found it, Grant was anal, but he worked himself too hard as well.

“Ready, Baby Girl?” Derek sighed as she gave the room a tertiary glance. “Penelope.” He was tired and needed some cuddle time.

“Yes, I guess. So? My place or yours tonight, Lover?” She asked as he held the door for her.

Sept. 26 4:08pm

Hotch had driven the same route home for the past five years, a scenic and unrushed ritual. He mentally left his day behind him, focusing on the yardwork and dinner awaiting him. There was an oddly satisfying feeling that he was able to come home to his family at a reasonable hour each and every day. His few years practicing law proved how treasured this possibility was. The leaves lined the neighborhood thoroughfare as he made the turns methodically. He passed a teenager mowing the lawn on one corner and a family walking home from school down another block. It was the American Dream and Aaron Hotchner sighed contentedly as he acknowledged his reality with gratitude.

Though it was breezy, their front door was open for him and Aaron quickly found Jack and Haley in the living room which doubled as Jack’s play spot, an octagonal area fenced off in the middle of the room since he had begun crawling at the beginning of summer. The plastic sides had been folded inwards, leaving Jack’s mat and toys strewn across the room.

“Hey!” He smiled as he set his briefcase in the foyer.

“Wait, Aaron, stay there.” Haley called hurriedly.

“Okay? Any particular reason why?” He chuckled, but listened, hovering in the archway between the hall and the room which held his family. “Hey, buddy!” He called to his son who had been thumping a block against another toy with a satisfying and repeated thwack. Jack’s face burst into a drooling grin and he began crawling to his dad.

“Wait for it…” Haley warned quietly. When Jack reached the recliner, he pulled himself up and continued toward him determinedly. His tentative feet taking him away from the grounding of the furniture, but he managed a good four or five steps before falling back into a crawl. Haley clapped excitedly, the joy upon her husband’s face unparalleled.

“Alright, Jack-Attack!” Aaron bent down and snatched up his giggling son. “Has he been walking all day?!

“Just since lunch. I almost called three times, but I figured seeing it firsthand would be more impactful.”

“Well, that’s the best welcome home I’ve ever had. Good job, buddy!” Aaron kissed the baby’s head and brought him back across the room to his toys. The little family spent the next half hour getting Jack’s consecutive step total up to nine before breaking up the fun for dinner preparations and yardwork. Aaron expertly strapped Jack into his carrier, complete with noise dampening earmuffs so the Hotchner men could clear the yard with the leaf blower before settling in for the night.

Next Chapter: Messy

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