#mob!aaron

[andrew-dramaqueen-minyard]

hc that despite other (shitty) teams trying to psych Neil out by calling him Nathaniel or Wesninski or butchers son on the court they actually find Neil terrifying for the exact reason they’re shit talking. They try to play it off like they’re not scared and that’s why they taunt him but in reality, when they’re off the court, they constantly discuss how scary Neil kinda is. There’s rumours about Neil and the ravens and Riko, and what Neil did and who he was before he joined the foxes and then with the added obvious evidence of what he endured? The man LOOKS tortured and still comes out on the court with a wicked smile, he’s terrifying.

#he’s also terrifyingly hot #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #neil josten #aftg hc #nathaniel wesninski #other teams also talk about how terrifying half the foxes are but they would never say it out loud #like you’ve got Neil ‘was literally a tortured mob bosses son’ josten #Andrew ‘the reknown monster’ minyard who never shows any emotion #Kevin ‘the son of exy who’s never been skiing’ Day #not to mention #aaron ‘literally killed a man on record’ minyard #Matt ‘6’5 and one of the ICCA exys BEST backliner’ boyd

[ravlykpavlyk]

nicky, probably at some team bonding night: anyway, andrew, you didn't tell us why you decided to stop taking cracker dust!

neil: i asked him

andrew: you didn't ask, josten, it was a deal.

aaron: deal?

neil: yeah. andrew didn't want to take my money for new car, so i had to be creative.

allison: you fucking bought maserati???

neil: well i still had a few millions of moriyamas money, and it's not like they would help me anyway.

nicky: what? why? neil you know how much money it is?? omg neil

neil: nicky, i was going to die in a few months.

#nicky: oh no #nicky: neil's sad mob story #allison: oh no #allison: neil's a fucking sugar daddy #aaron: oh no #aaron: oH NO #dan: wtf aaron? #aaron: idk i just don't like josten #aftg #all for the game #aftg neil #neil aftg #andrew aftg #aftg andrew #andreil #aftg andreil #andreil aftg #andrew x neil #neil x andrew #allison reynolds #nicky hemmick #aaron minyard #neil josten #andrew minyard #twinyards #foxes #aftg incorrect quotes

[hotchs-big-hands]

https://www.tumblr.com/hotchs-big-hands/728996845833093120/httpswwwtumblrcomhotchs-big-hands7289960050?source=share

standing on my knees and sucking the barrel of unsub/mob boss Aaron's gun while he decides if he wants to shoot the person that is in front of us or let em enjoy the show for a bit longer... 🩶

#longlivemeanaaron

OOOOOFFFFF YES

He's loving the way you look up at him, swirling your tongue around the cold barrel tip, eyes focused on his. You fucking look so pretty, such a good little slut for him being so obedient 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 but he's jealous, no one else should be able to see you like this. And so it isn't long before he pulls the barrel of the gun from your puckered lips, spit flying and spattering onto yourself, the floor and his dress pants, then you hear the bang of the gun, the slump of the body on the ground. But you're just focused on your mob boss daddy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

#🩶 anon #💌 ah asks #nsfw. #mob boss au #gun k!nk #tw gun #gun kink #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[breitzbachbea]

On another note, for all the gun aversion that Paddy (scarred from a civil war) and Aaron (pacifist at heart, cannot see the blood he causes) have and had. Ben grew up with a fucking rifle at home, I just knew it. That man had NONE of these hangups. "Yeah, that was my Granda's, his brother was found dead in a ditch after they got 'em during the civil war."

#beablabbers #storie nostre #benjamin clean joined the mob for a reason and that reason was he was not afraid to do the job #ben #aaron #paddy

[freebirdyance]

The table not being a booth or against a wall makes Aaron feel entirely too exposed, but at least he gets a good view of the door. That, and it's be "rude" to not let Yancy choose. Or something. Whatever.

He tries not to show just how displeased the comment about Father makes him, and it's a monumental effort. Someone should give him an award already. "My father sends his regards," he replies, voice carefully monotone. "He apologizes he was not able to send the usual proxy." As for meeting him in person, Victor Graves was notoriously difficult to get a hold of. Most business meetings were conducted by Adrian. Whenever Victor went anywhere, it was it a small army of guards and assistants.

Then again, with a son like Aaron, who could blame him?

Maybe if Yancy proved a trustworthy enough ally, he'd be able to meet with him eventually. After getting the approval from Adrian.

"Do you want to wait for the food to talk, or nah?"

"Oh, it's no problem, really. He's a busy man, I'm sure." Yancy's smile falls into a well practiced tilt, just easygoing enough. He was a busy man, too, yet here he was. Could he have sent Jimmy or Hank with some extra guys? Sure. He'd trust them to handle this. But he wanted to show he was taking this seriously. Whatever the topic was about.

Hopefully, in time, he'd have a chance to meet with him. Yancy has worked his ass off over the last decade to bring his family name up out of the mud. Modernizing the family business, cutting out the dead weight that wanted to cling to the past. That had to count for something.

"Nah. We can go ahead and talk now. I'm all ears."

#thanks for writin' (ask) #pinstripes and butterfly knives (mob boss yance) #the graves family (aaron) #((sorry for how long this took ;-;))

[trappolacore]

My absolute favorite thing is creating a crack ship and becoming low-key obsessed with it, this confusing anyone I know who also knows about whatever the fandom is

#introducing my latest: aaron minyard and ichirou moriyama #the doctor and the mob boss lmao #aaron minyard #ichirou moriyama #aftg #all for the game #questionable dynamic? sure. #my favorite up until it prevents me from writing a fic ive been working on for SO LONG because it isnt about said crackship

[popstr]

[TEXT] - please just call me back.

[ 14:24 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] can't rn i have work stuff starting in like 5 min. rehearsal started this morning and isn't over til 3:30. [ 14:24 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] besides, it doesn't sound like there's a lot to talk about. [ 14:25 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] i'm not upset. not with u anyway. i get it, u can't make it bc u also suddenly have work stuff which seems like suspicious timing on the part of whoever scheduled that shit. [ 14:26 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] wonder who that could be. sounds like it's probably someone tall, skinny, italian, and super fucking condescending. [ 14:27 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] on a very related note, will u do me a big favor? pls wish ur boss a very unmerry go FUCK himself, preferably with a baseball bat covered in nails and sandpaper. from me. [ 14:27 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] and also that i hope he chokes on a fucking meatball. [ 14:28 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] and if the meatball doesn't kill him, that i hope he starts prematurely balding literally tomorrow. [ 14:28 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] and then tell him i hope someone punches him in his punchable fucking face hard enough he needs surgery and that i hope they botch the surgery and that he has to walk around looking like quasimodo for the rest of his miserable life. [ 14:29 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] and that he chokes again on a cherry tomato and THAT kills him. but only after at least a couple years of the quasimodo shit. [ 14:30 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] don't leave anything out. he deserves to know what i think of him. every detail. u can even screenshot this and send it to him if u want. [ 14:30 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] i'm not mad at u. it's ok. just sucks. and he prolly did it on purpose. [ 14:31 : pretentious italian 🥵🔥 ] ok i'm late getting back 2 rehearsal but i'll call u in an hour when rehearsal is over.

IT'S ACTUALLY APPROXIMATELY 3:37 PM WHEN HE ACTUALLY MANAGES TO CALL. simeon tells himself that it’s not a big deal, that aaron’s probably a normal human who wouldn’t panic about a six minute differential, but it makes him anxious anyway, and by the time he manages to slide into the back of the car, he’s already fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. a takeout box sits next to him on the seat which he already knows is filled with about eight hashbrown patties that his driver had indulgently agreed to pick up for him — no doubt knowing it meant his employer was in a mood. he gives the older man in the front driver’s seat an apologetic look as he says, “ can we put the divider up, dave? gotta make a call. ” the divider slowly rises, and for a moment, sim’s thumb hovers over the call button. he’s nervous, he recognizes, that little flutter in his stomach unmistakable for anything else. who the fuck is he, anyway, to be acting this way, like some sort of lovestruck teenager?! he’s always been immature and a little idealistic, sure, but not in matters of the heart, not for at least the past decade. tap, tap, tap go the fingers of his other hand as he finally presses the call button and brings the phone up to his ear. when he hears aaron pick up on the other side, however, all he can think of to blurt is, “ did you tell him? ”

#swnsn #xoxo love simeon sommerfeld. ( responses ) #so the GOOD THING about having that initial interaction with luca is he has an outlet for his anger when aaron can’t show up #the down side is THAT IS A MOB BOSS STOP THREATENING THE MOB BOSS??? #anyway he is so stupid and ridiculous and I love them

[archivelondonfalling-rpg]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

Character Name: @dayzedandconphused​

Type of Connection:  romantic (but very open to discussion)

Specific Role of Connection: Partner in (literal) Crime

CONNECTION INFORMATION

Connection Name : UTP

Connection Age : 33-43

Suggested Faceclaims: Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Winston Duke, Diego Luna, Garrett Hedlund

Description: Essentially this connection is the brawn to Phoebe’s brains. He’s the enforcer, the muscle and the one she calls in to finish business with her targets when they attempt to physically intimate her. They’ve known each other for a long time, met when they were quite young but they are from opposite sides of the tracks. Phoebe grew up in money, this character absolutely did not. Phoebe is more than happy to have bought the apartment they live in and pay as much as she needs to, knowing full-well he has her back in every situation (for the most part).

Should you contact player before applying ? Yes

#jw.skeleton #crime rp #oc rp #lsrpg #semi appless rp #bio roleplay #mafia rp #mob rp #appless rp #crime roleplay #skeleton rp #aaron taylor johnson #winston duke #diego luna #garrett hedlund #wc open

[confused-pyramid]

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22

a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke

series masterlist

You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.

After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -

You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.

Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.

So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.

A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.

When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.

Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.

"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.

Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.

What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.

It was a no-brainer.

You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"

"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.

"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."

Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.

***

Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.

"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."

"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"

Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."

It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.

"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."

You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."

He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.

But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.

You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.

Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.

***

The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.

When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.

"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."

You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.

It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.

The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.

You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.

He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.

You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.

As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.

***

Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.

"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.

He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.

Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."

Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.

"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.

"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."

Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"

"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.

You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."

Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.

He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.

It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.

While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.

Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.

But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.

***

Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.

That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.

"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.

"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."

You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."

When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.

"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."

She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."

Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."

You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.

"Wheels up in 30."

The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.

"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.

Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"

"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."

"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"

"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."

Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."

"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"

When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.

That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.

You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.

As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.

Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.

"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"

He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."

The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.

"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.

You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."

"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."

"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."

"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"

You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.

"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.

"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.

He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."

One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."

"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."

His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."

He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."

***

You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.

"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.

After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.

"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."

"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."

His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.

After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.

"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."

You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.

"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."

Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."

His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."

Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.

You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.

"Hold your fire!"

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.

"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"

"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."

You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.

***

You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.

"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"

He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."

"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."

He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."

He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"

You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"

He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."

"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."

He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.

Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.

There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.

When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.

But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.

***

"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.

She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.

"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"

He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."

"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.

"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."

"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"

"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."

You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."

Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.

When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.

"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.

"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."

You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."

She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."

"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."

You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."

When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.

You want kids, don't you?

Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.

"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.

Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"

You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.

***

"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.

"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."

"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."

"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.

When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.

"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."

"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"

"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."

Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."

You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.

Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.

"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.

Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."

"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."

Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."

You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."

Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.

"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.

After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."

You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.

"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.

"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.

You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."

"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."

Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."

Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"

"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."

***

Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"

He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"

"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

We'll call you as soon as we know more.

The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.

"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.

He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."

"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.

There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."

Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.

"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."

Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.

"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."

He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.

"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."

Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."

His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."

Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.

For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.

You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"

He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.

Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"

"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."

Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"

"About 12 hours."

"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.

"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."

He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."

You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."

You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"

Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."

Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.

"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."

Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."

Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."

***

James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.

When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

And some people grow up to catch them."

You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.

Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.

Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.

"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.

You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.

Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.

"You're a great father, Aaron."

His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."

He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.

You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."

That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."

You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."

That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.

This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."

"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."

He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.

***

When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.

He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.

Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.

He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.

"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.

You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"

His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."

"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"

"Burnt."

You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.

"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.

He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."

"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.

He huffs. "I was...looking at that."

"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."

"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."

You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."

You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.

"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.

You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."

Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"

He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."

You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.

You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"

He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.

"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."

"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."

"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

***

When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Sean?"

He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"

You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.

"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."

He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"

"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."

Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."

You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.

"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.

JJ frowns. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"

You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.

"Sean, listen to me."

He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."

Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.

You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.

The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.

You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"

He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"

You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."

"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"

He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"

"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."

He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."

You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.

"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.

Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.

***

"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."

"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."

"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.

"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."

"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."

He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."

You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."

"Yeah," he nods. "I know."

You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.

The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.

Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.

After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.

That's when the phone rings.

***

"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.

As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."

"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."

"Yet."

You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"

"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.

At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."

"No-"

"We won't do anything without you, I promise."

"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."

She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.

"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"

"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."

You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."

He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."

You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."

"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."

"Prettier, too."

The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"

She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."

"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."

"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.

"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."

You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."

When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.

"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.

"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."

You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."

If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.

You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.

You start running.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female!reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #elle greenaway #penelope garcia #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #jason gideon #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner series #criminal minds series #criminal minds season one #criminal minds fic #fic #criminal minds imagine #hotch fic #anchor series #anchor

[awildtei]

[CW: slight nsfw]

In my Kevaaron shit frothing at the mouth at the Possibilities. Because they live together for two years, both having to be at Andrew's side all the time, and there's so much potential for things to happen without anyone else knowing. Them having their own arc in the background of Andreil with no one the wiser because no one actually pays them any attention.

Aaron with his shitty attitude, internalized homophobia, past of addiction and abuse, hating Kevin for bringing more drama into his life with his stupid fucking mafia issues and for the way he so easily holds Andrew's attention when Andrew treats Aaron like he doesn't exist; Kevin with his ego, his "it'll be easier if he remains heterosexual", his alcoholism, his history of abuse, his constant fear and anxiety.

Them not liking each other but not really caring enough about the other to truly hate them. Ignoring each other's existence best they can.

Then eventually sexual tension they try to work out by fighting constantly. Hurting each other's feelings better than anyone else can because somehow they see each other and know exactly where to cut so it'll hurt the most.

Getting lost in the crowd at Eden's, drunk and barely high, dancing too close together, too dirty to be friendly, making out and then pretending they didn't.

Them eventually fucking because they need to get it out of their systems and Andrew doesn't let them out of his sight long enough to go out and find someone else (and really, they don't trust any stranger to have them so vulnerable when they are in the middle of a fucking mob war). Kevin with his "this never leaves this room, I'm not ruining my career", Aaron with his "I'm straight, this is just convenient", both meaning it until they don't, really.

Both catching inconvenient feelings, both sure it's one-sided. Kings of denial. Moments that they refuse to read into because that way lies madness, like that time they accidentally fall asleep together, or when Aaron talks Kevin down from a panic attack, or when Kevin makes tea for Aaron when he's frazzled and sleep-deprived studying for finals.

Kevin, heart in his throat wondering whether Aaron is still with Katelyn, because he thought they'd broken up but he sees them talking at a party; Aaron, heart in his stomach, wondering whether Kevin actually wants Andrew and not him, is settling for someone who looks like him because he can't have the real thing.

At Eden's, Kevin almost kissing Aaron when they're left alone at the table because he wants and it's killing him; Aaron pushing him away, snapping "You're drunk," because he has to be, otherwise there's no way he'd do this, here, in plain view, there is no way he actually wants Aaron. Aaron, angry and seething because how dare this asshole keep tripping him up at every turn, giving him hope he knows will be crushed in a second; Kevin, not drunk (not yet), rejected, being reminded yet again that it is just secret, shameful sex for Aaron, that kissing him where their friends might see them is not something he can do, that Aaron doesn't actually want him.

The sex, getting confusing. Sometimes too gentle, too worshipful, too loving to be called fucking. Sometimes they remember themselves and turn it fast and dirty and angry, tell themselves not to slip up again.

Aaron seeing Andrew with Neil, so jealous, so envious, so sad and angry because he will never have that; Kevin watching Neil with Andrew, so lost, so helpless, because he used to only care about Exy but now when he imagines his future as a pro player it stretches lonely and even the thought of making Court again doesn't compensate the thought of Aaron being gone from his life, somewhere far away at med school, Kevin a speck in the rearview mirror of his life.

Aaron being hot and cold, one minute open and desperate and the next completely closed-off; Kevin oscillating between I'm going to tell him so he can either accept it or reject me for good and I'm going to keep my feelings very quiet so I can have this for as long as I can.

Making out for hours, not taking it further, Aaron thinking shit shit shit this is not what this is supposed to be, Kevin thinking yes yes yes this is different this has to mean something.

Kevin after winning championships and surviving Riko for good deciding since he's the best exy player in the world he can do whatever the fuck he wants and no one can say shit about it, deciding he's all in, respecting when Aaron pushes him away but otherwise not backing out out of fear, not anymore; Aaron, having killed a man, finally working on his relationship with his brother, the trial looming menacing in the near future making him question everything he thought he knew about himself, deciding the worst-case scenario in his life has probably already happened and Kevin Day breaking his heart will not kill him, deciding he will just do whatever the fuck he wants and if Kevin notices his feelings he can deal with it or break things off with him, whatever.

Eating alone together and watching movies alone together and so many dates they don't call dates but don't not call dates, either. Kissing all the time now, when no one is around, quick pecks as hello and goodbye, fond smooches when the other does something adorable. Hands finding hands during sex, during make-out sessions, under the blanket during movie night sat side by side on the couch.

Kevin holding Aaron in his dark suit for a long time before the trial, just quietly hugging him, hands on his back and hair, lips against the crown of his head, before Aaron sighs and steps back, face set, hand squeezing Kevin's one last time for strength.

After the trial, Aaron exhausted and rattled and wishing he could go back to not knowing, walking straight into Kevin's arms in the middle of the busy courtroom without a single fuck left to give.

The days following the trial, days of quiet companionship, of Kevin just being there for Aaron, ignoring Andrew's knowing raised eyebrow and Neil's confused frown, thankful Nicky is holding his tongue for now.

Days of letting the dust settle until Aaron goes back to being himself and Kevin finally lets himself ask, blunt and straightforward; Aaron being brave for perhaps the first time in his life and telling the truth. Kevin smiling, not his smug smirk or his camera-smile, something softer, brighter, happier, more real, speaking his own truth; Aaron finally letting his walls down fully, letting his eyes and face show everything, kissing him like his life depends on it. Both holding on, holding on, holding on.

#aftg #all for the game #aaron minyard #kevin day #kevaaron #tei's

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Age of Khonshu, or as I like to call it: Oh no. Oh no no no no.

Age of Khonshu, written by Jason Aaron. 2018.

Who is Jason Aaron? A big writer at Marvel, he is best known for PunisherMAX (the ultras violent and non-marvel universe version of the Punisher), some runs of Thor (the one where Jane Foster becomes Thor), and certain runs with Wolverine: Weapon X. He also wrote Southern Bastard, which is a big name over in Image comics.

Another important fact? He was raised Southern Baptist that has since become an atheist.

That history out of the way, let's look at the sort of comic this is.

I have been putting off reading this little doozy for YEARS. Why? Three reasons.

This was not a good year for me personally. In fact, this was the start of some REALLY bad years to follow for the next 4 years.

I missed the original release and when I tried to find it to read it, no one had it. Not even the library. (This should have been my first clue).

This is a Marvel tie in event.

Now, I have ranted about these before and I'm going to rant about it again.

What is a tie in event? It's a big Marvel World event that attempts to do a large story-line that involves a lot of other big names (usually the avengers).

In Events, you have the main story line that involves the main character. So say, DareDevil is fighting a super ninja. You have the main story that takes place in DareDevil's comic "DareDevil vs. the super ninja" and in that comic, it's such a big fight that the avengers have to get involved, and maybe Dr. Strange and perhaps Brother Voodoo is getting a movie next spring so they want to showcase Brother Voodoo working with familiar faces so he's involved now too.

BUT. All these people involved also have their own comics running. They don't just want to keep going and ignore this big ninja fight that's happening. So then we have side event tie ins that pause their normal story-line to respond in some way to the event that is happening.

So Let's say Ms. Marvel has her story line going where she's been fighting some evil mob boss. She's suddenly going to pause that story. She'll suddenly come up on a hole hoard of evil ninjas and have to fight them for a single issue. But they don't want to loose steam with her evil mob boss because they have to get back to that in the next issue! So it turns out her evil mob boss HIRED those ninjas in some sort of attempted partnership with the evil super ninja. Just to highlight how evil the mob boss is!

Oh, and if you haven't been reading DareDevil or the Avengers or ALL THE OTHER COMICS INVOLED good luck trying to keep up with what's going on. So by the end of the event, you have to compile a LOT of comics together in a particular order so that you can fully understand what's going on.

Even worse? Sometimes the responding tie in comics that aren't really involved with the main story line try to solve the issue. So, going back to my example, Ms. Marvel not only defeats the ninja gang, but she discovers something amazing that will in the end help defeat the Super Ninja! She has single handedly helped bring it down! …In her own comic. It makes her look like the big hero and like she was crucial to the event….When in truth, she has nothing to do withthe main story line over in DD world and her little discovery won't have anything to do at all with how to bring down the Super Ninja in the end.

With me so far?!

If this sounds familiar to you, then congratulations, you may have read "Moon Knight Shadowland", which was infinately better than the main story line of Dare Devil Shadowland. (I'm still bitter about that one). Or the original Civil War saga. Or Seige. Or Dark Reign. Or Age of Khonshu.

Today, I'm here to talk about Age of Khonshu.

In which Moon Knight gets his own special event under an Avenger's title.

So how did they compile this event under an Avenger's title? We start with something that makes no sense to someone that has not been following the Avenger's comics.

Stepping further into it? This event follows directly after the 2017 BEMIS run. So we are moving from the worst run in MK history into Aaron's Age of Khonshu. The next comic after this didn't come out till 2021! That's a three year gap!

What's the story?

Mephisto (I hate Mephisto. He has been made basically into Marvel's version of the Christian Devil.) is messing with the time line and is going back in time to amass soul contracts with people and is slowly taking over the world or destroying it or building up hell. It isn't ever properly explained, but most evil things like this usually aren't.

For some reason Khonshu has seen the future of a world where Mephisto has destroyed it and done terrible things. So he puts these images into Marc's head. Marc, thinking Khonshu is out to fuck with him again (when isn't he?) tracks down Khonshu in one of his Moon Cult temples.

Khonshu tells Marc that he's terrified of Mephisto and Marc realizes that Khonshu isn't just fucking with him this time.

So he teams up and decides to…STEAL ALL THE POWERS OF THE AVENGERS AND GIVE THEM TO KHONSHU.

That's right. As someone told me, it's like watching a ten year old talking about how their character is the most powerful and can beat up all the other characters.

Moon Knight beats up Dr. Strange with the power of Khonshu and steals his magic. Then he beats up Danny and steals the Iron fist. Then steals the GHOST RIDER'S fire of vengeance. He goes after Thor on the MOON. Turns out Thor's hamer is made out of moon rock so Moon Knight laughs as he steals the hammer because he has the power of moon. He goes after the Black Panter and T'challa is just like "LOL No. My power comes from my ancestors. You can't steal that."

So they lock up T'challa in a pyramid.

YOU KNOW WHAT MARVEL MOVIE WAS COMING OUT IN 2018?! That's right, the first Black Panther movie.

So in this comic, it's going to feature heavily that Black Panther is super powerful and the hero of the story.

Giving Khonshu all these powers, he remakes New York into Khonshu World and imprisons anyone that fails to worship him, because he's an all powerful god that will stop Mephisto.

And he does fight Mephisto and kill him, but there are so many versions of him now, because he's the devil and you can't kill the devil.

And throughout this, Moon Knight worships and prays to Khonshu, calling him his god and how he's a follower, and believes that Khonshu is a powerful god.

The Avengers keep asking him to stop, that he's off his meds or something and mentally ill and they can help him stop Mephisto if he stops Khonshu.

Eventually Moon Knight realizes that Khonshu can't stop Mephisto and he's gone too far.

He prays to a different god and THE PHOENIX fire shows up and he becomes Moon Knight Phoenix.

He betrays Khonshu because now he is his own god I guess? Helping them take Khonshu down, he gives back all their powers and they lock Khonshu away in Asgard.

Now he expells the Phoenix from his own self before he becomes Dark Moon Knight and destroys the world.

Now the Avengers story moves on to them dealing with Mephisto in a later run, but Khonshu is defeated and that's the important part!

T'challa offers Moon Knight a place in the Avengers, rather than a jail cell in Wakanda for his crimes. Moon Knight turns him down and returns to a small part in Manhattan that he'd rather protect.

And that's how it ends.

Aside from the main story aspect of this particular volume of MK avengers, here are the MAJOR problems:

Throughout the entire run, there is HEAVY christian imagery and language.

They talk about the devil and how scary the devil is. They talk about Hell. They talk about angels. They talk about gods.

They especially show Moon Knight worshiping and PRAYING to Khonshu or Phoenix.

Moon Knight himself discusses fighting the Devil and going to Hell as a construct of the horrors he has seen and done.

2. Throughout the run, Aaron tries to pull out bits from Lemire. Referencing him and doing callbacks. It falls SO flat.

There is a scene early on where he does the "I am Marc Spector. I am Steven Grant. I am Jake Lockley. And we are Moon Knight" bit. But it's followed by a prayer to Khonshu because he is the Moon God's accolyte.

Later he talks about how Marc expelled Khonshu from his mind and had healed and was his own man again. He talks about how Khonshu had put horrors in his mind that made him ill.

He then talks about how he frequents a certain mental hospital.

Not only is he referencing Lemire, but he's taking it in the wrong context. This man read it and went "Yeah sure I got it" when he clearly didn't.

In Lemire's run, we see Marc dealing not just with how KHonshu used and abused him and how messed up he was, but we also see him coming to terms with his own mental illness and trying to understand himself. To understand that he himself had been abusive towards himself. His self harm attributes. His pushing people away. We see him learn to embrace the 'what if' aspect of after mental illness. We see doubt and we see room to heal.

In this it's just "Khonshu did it."

3. We're back to the mental health topic. While they DO acknowledge Steven and Jake twice, offhandedly, we don't see them. It's just MARC. And I find it hard to believe that either of them would either let Marc go this far off the rails to hurting his friends, but that they would go along with it without having a discussion or working as a team if they found it to be the only solution.

They also have NUMEROUS remarks from the others about "We all know Moon Knight is crazy but I didn't think he was this crazy". It carries on the old conversations that everyone in the Avengers and so on all see Moon Knight as mentaly unwell. Unfit. Crippled, even. He's not well enough to do things. He pretends to be a hero but we all know he's likely to melt down any minute and do something crazy, attitude.

And repeatedly he's told to take meds, go to the hospital, check himself in… Even T'Challa tells him "Wakanda has made great strides in Mental Health. We can cure you!"

Cure him from what? Trauma? Take away his DID? Or implying that he's some sort of other unwell causing him to not think straight?

It's these three things combined that just really set me off.

The absolutely disgusting use of Christian vocabulary and idealism to portray a Jewish character. Even if Marc isn't observant of Jewish beliefs, he is culturally Jewish and raised by a Rabbi. Unless he blatantly converted, he would not find himself worshiping and praying to another god. He wouldn't believe in the devil or use such language to describe Mephisto. He wouldn't talk about Angelic idealations or even Hell.

Then the blatant use of his mental illness to further how it's easy for Moon Knight to fall into such ways. Of course he did this. He's crazy. He'll do anything!

Of course he made his god Khonshu into an over powered dick.

I've discussed this before with a good friend, but there is a difference between following Khonshu and worshiping Khonshu.

I love the use of Yehya Badr to show this in MacKay's run. One has converted and religiously believes and follows Khonshu. The other follows a path that he himself set down as a result of his experiences and own needs.

Moon Knight never outright worships Khonshu (when properly written). Even in Moench's old run, he believed that he had been resurrected by Khonshu and therefore his power and life was in Khonshu's hands. This was more following Marc's thinking that he himself was nothing more than a ghost. Without Khonshu, it was more of an existential dread that he was nothing. Not that Khonshu was a god figure.

In later runs this translated into a sort of worship and it never should have. In Moench's run, Khonshu was some unknown force. Perhaps a god, perhaps a spirit, perhaps some form of something ancient that represents the moon and protecting those who travel by night. Considering the Marvel universe and such loose terms of applying all powerful beings under the phrase of 'god', it makes sense. Thor is technically a god. But he is not a god to be worshiped.

Moon Knight takes his own Jewish upbringing. He is here to cherish all life. To protect those who fall into the margins and cry for help.

What's most insulting is that this comic directly followed the run by Bemis. The one that was so laced with antisemitism and blatant disregard for mental health topics.... So we jump from blood libel and Nazism into fighting the actual Devil and praying to gods and worship.

This is not a good look, Marvel.

Here's the thing, we need a Jewish writer.

I don't mean someone that was formerly Jewish that converted to some other following. I don't mean an atheist that has a special interest in other religions (as Aaron claims he is). We need a born and raised practicing Jewish writer.

We need someone to use the proper terminology that isn't Christian based. We need Jake to speak more Yiddish. We need Steven to be seen putting money into the Tzedakah box. We need Marc to discuss his conflict with his Orthodox Rabbi father and his current path in life and how, like it or not, he has become the epitome of the Jewish struggle to exist.

I appreciate Mr. MacKay, but when his run is done and Marvel looks for the next Moon Knight writer, I'd really like to see a Jewish voice step in and not only respect their own people (despite what Marvel may tell them to do) but to also continue to represent and respect the mental health aspect of Moon Knight.

Maybe I'm asking too much? But this issue...

TLDR: Do not read Bendis, Bemis, and Aaron when it comes to Moon Knight.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Comics #I'm so angry you guys #Is it too much to ask that someone do a little research before taking on a comic title? #Tell your story Marvel but fucking tell it respectfully #What the hell was the editor doing? #growling and snarling #Moon Knight is Jewish

[htchnr]

01 ★ minecraft HCs ❥ A. HOTCHNER.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.

CW ➥ fluff so sweet it'll make you sick ⋆ brief one second mention of alcohol ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 1,2k. SONG ➥ you are the right one , sports.

SUMMARY ➥ certain mobs and how i think it would go with Aaron and what he'd think of them.

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

༺★ his first encounter with a hostile mob would DEFINITELY be with a creeper 🫣 at first he'd glance past it and think it was a strange shrub. (the game looks strange anyway, maybe he just hasn't seen this type of shrub before)

༺☆ so he goes to investigate ... he gets pretty close ... until the 'shrub' turns around and he's met with a very much alive mob. and TWO seconds later, the poor man is met with hissing, then a boom and a second later 'you died!' 😔💔

༺★ he huffs, sitting on the couch perplexed, wth was that??????? you were at work currently, and he knew you were in a meeting so he had to text you his confusion.

THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE when you get a text from him saying ; 'what are the tall bushes with faces on them?' you nearly snort out loud when your eyes glance over the text. so when you're out of the meeting you immediately call him, you MUST know what the HECK he's talking about.

"Aaron have you been drinking??" you start the call with, checking your watch, that says 2:47PM. no way he'd be drunk right?

Aaron is confused. "no???"

"what do you mean with the text 'the tall bushes with faces on them'????"

"i walked up to a tall bush, it turned around, had a face on it, hissed and then exploded and killed me. why did it do that????"

you were nearly in TEARS from laughing, the poor man just sitting silently on the other end of the phone. "what's so funny? 🥲💔"

when you calm down from your laughing fit, you explain that they're creepers, and when you get too close the sort of sizzle and explode.

he huffs, his character walking back to pick up his stuff that he dropped when he died. "that's rude." new tears prickle at your eyes when you hear him repeat the verbal stim you haven't been able to let go of for weeks. you rub off on him a little too much maybe.....

༺☆ with baby zombies he definitely gets spooked the first time, like wth just hit him?????? from where?????????????? and then he looks down and sees a baby zombie — he's done. running. the baby zombie was near your house? yeah Aaron is sitting on a dirt tower on the complete other side of the biome. 😭

༺★ speaking of dirt towers — that's the first thing you taught him. need to get away from mobs? dirt tower. need to get to higher ground to see where you are? dirt tower. or a tower made of really anything you have in your inventory.

༺☆ Aaron masters the skill of dirt towers quickly — though, forgetting from time to time that it's not the best idea to use a dirt tower to get away from a skeleton... he's been shot down more times than he'd like to (or ever will) admit.

༺★ other mobs? oh he's fine with literally ANYTHING else than spiders and baby zombies.

༺☆ definitely thinks the endermen are sophisticated beings, (they get bonus points in his book when you show him the City Texture Pack where they're wearing suits. he 100% approves of them and likes them) he is most definitely a little (very) sad they're considered as hostile mobs and they'll attack him when he looks at them.

༺★ definitely HATES drowned 😭😭 'i just wanted to pick up the lily pad why are they after me????????????'

wait till he encounters the ones with tridents 😭 at first he doesn't even see where he's getting hit from, not seeing any drowned (yet) nor any other mobs besides regular fish that can't harm him. fast forward to when the drowned misses it's shot, landing the trident beside Aaron. he jumps, desperately looking around to see where it came from.

"are there things that throw tridents???" he asks, frustrated with the amount of damage he's taking from the seemingly INVISIBLE enemy.

you look up from your Switch and at the tv, seeing Aaron knee deep in a lake. "there are drowned that throw tridents, think of them like the skeletons of the water basically."

he frowns, fan-fucking-tastic.

༺☆ OMG the moment dolphins randomly attack him 😭😭 he'll definitely be pissed. 'who's hitting me??? i don't see any drowned??????????' and just when he looks around, he sees a dolphin coming at him and hitting him 😭

༺★ he'd be heartbroken tbh, suddenly thinking every passive mob will hurt him until you show him that like 99% doesn't attack you like llamas and dolphins do 😭

༺☆ zombies = average. he finds there groaning a little annoying, but what he dislikes the most is if he's building, and he accidentally drops something and a zombie is near, that it'll pick up his stuff. like excuse them?????? that's his??? give his iron axe back and let him get back to chopping trees??????

༺★ spiders? hell. no. hates them. period. he's almost a little like you with irl spiders — avoids them like the plague and gets a little jumpy when he finds them. the first time he encountered one it jumped at him out of NOWHERE, causing him to jump a little, instantly moving to build a dirt tower while he recovers.

༺☆ though, only to be smacked right off said tower, the spider going right after him again after it had climbed the tower. 'why are the spiders so damn big??????? and why can they climb walls????' now he understands why you put edges around your house, not only to look pretty but to prevent the spiders from scaling the building. noted..

the start of Minecraft may be chaotic AF for him, but Aaron loves nothing more than to get comfy on the couch with you and play for hours. 🥰

Aaron x minecraft is living in my DREAMS y'all 😭😭🩷 i cannot stop writing small drabbles and HCs UHGGGG 😩😭🩷

#⋆୨🩷©2023 htchnr #⋆୨🪨aaron playing minecraft #⋆୨⭐️aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotch hotchner x reader #hotch imagine #hotch x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you

[exysexualmoron]

One of my favorite things about aftg is how the characters feel so real. I read them at the exact age most of the foxes are and they just fet like ppl I knew irl. And I think the prevalence of certain fandom views has SO MUCH to do with people forgetting what it’s like to be younger and not knowing what it’s like to be older.

Like we often talk about how they’re in their early 20s, Andrew and Aaron then 20 in TRK, most foxes are 20-24. They’re college kids, old enough for society to let them live on their own but still young enough that they have zero experience being adults. They’re doing it for the first time! And a lot of the infantilization of the characters stem from that (I don’t mean the uwu Neil discourse but generally how people perceive them according to their ages).

Neil’s 18 at the time. Legally an adult but with no “real world” experience in many senses, while other Foxes (Dan) seem much older than they are because they had too much “real world” experience growing up (and the definition of real world goes regular life and regular bad, not running-from-your-serial-killer-dad).

Andrew’s 19 in the first book. I was cuddling with my mom and watching Teen Wolf at that age, she was telling me I could go out without asking but never without telling her where i was going. That’s how old he is. He can’t legally drink in the US. In some places he’s not old enough to stop receiving child support.

Nicky’s approaching his mid 20s but he managed two teens and is just now getting to live that sweet 18-21 life.

These are all real people. With issues, and an imaginary sport and surreal mob war that wouldn’t happen irl but they are real college students. They’re that kid you’d meet at a party and talk about work and taxes and then they’d have to leave because their mom who lives two states away wants them home before midnight and they do it because they know it’s about being safe and also their last chance to be their mom’s baby.

We often compare the foxes to teenagers, or say they’re immature for their age, but even when you take into account how trauma makes people act older and younger, they’re such real college students that it’s probably what got me in the first place. You see the age range, and you know the Andrew that leaves PSU is not the Andrew we met. He’s probably closer to Matt than anyone would like to think.

#aftg #all for the game #character study #neil josten #andrew minyard #nicky hemmick #dan wilds #matt boyd

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡5k Follower Celebration｡⋆. Closed

I may be pushing myself with this one but I will fill 50 requests from these prompts as a massive thank you for all the love and support you all have given me these past two years. I love you so so much ❤️❤️❤️

Drop an ask with your ideas!

Prompts

“My fucking wife!”

“Do not. I said no. Those puppy dog eyes don’t work every time. Fuck- fine.”

“How could I ever leave you? You’re everything.”

First look at a wedding

“Keep talking babygirl. I need to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“Fuck, why do you smell so fucking good?”

“How are you this fucking annoying?”

“That’s it, I told you that you could take it.”

Their first real kiss

“Why are you being so quiet?” “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re a bottom! You’re not allowed to talk like that!”

“How. Dare. You.”

“Did you just… slap my ass?”

“Why him? Why couldn’t I be the one you picked?”

Gently running their fingers up their partner’s back

“What the fuck is sex pollen?”

Grabbing them by the hips unexpectedly 

“Tell me the truth.”

“Wear that out, I can fight.”

“Oh you’re getting pregnant tonight.”

“Wanna share?”

“Stop kissing me for a minute, I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“Whatever you want, it’s yours. All you have to do is ask.”

“Touch her again and I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

“Break me.”

“Keep bouncing like my good little bunny.”

“After midnight, that’s your kid not mine.”

Showering together

“You make me want something more.”

“I see galaxies in your eyes.”

AUs (optional)

Bakery/Coffee shop

Mob

Werewolf

Royal

Soulmate

Characters

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Thor 

Loki

Eddie Brock/Venom

Peter Parker

Jason Todd

Bruce Wayne

Clark Kent

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Derek Morgan

Aaron Hotchner

Negan Smith

Castiel Novak

Sam Winchester

Brahms Heelshire

Halsin

Astarion

#5k celebration #5k followers #5000 followers #plus size reader

[freebirdyance]

Oh god, Yancy was one of those uptight fucks, wasn't he? Aaron just smiles and keeps everything he wants to say and do inside his head, and holds out a hand. "Not really. Pleasure."

Adrian is so much better at people.

The guards, whatever their names are, stand at attention, eyeing Yancy's entourage and keeping an eye out for anything out of place. There are consequences for failing the Graves, even if it's just the spare heir. Not that anyone would ever tell him that to his face.

One of them moves to open the door of the restaurant, to let everyone in. Aaron nods in acknowledgment, but his attention is on Yancy. "...nice place. You've come here before?" Small talk isn't... he isn't good at it.

Aaron seemed like a guy of few words right off the bat. He could respect that, even appreciate it. While he didn't usually mind a bit of small talk, fewer words in this situation could help things go more smoothly.

Yancy shakes his hand firmly and moves through the door, his guys falling into place behind and in front of him. Once inside, he nods. "Yeah, once or twice. They make a great ribeye." He tilts his head toward a large table in the back of the restaurant. Glad it wasn't a booth, as he would have felt damn near claustrophobic with everyone present.

He gets to one end of the table and unbuttons his suit jacket. Waiting for Aaron to get situated before sitting down. "Gotta be honest, I was hopin' to finally meet yer father today. Not that I have a problem meetin' with you instead." Although he did... a little. It wasn't anything against him, though.

#thanks for writin' (ask) #pinstripes and butterfly knives (mob boss yance) #the graves family (aaron)

[yourleftpinkytoe-blog]

Aftg x FNAF fic idea.

BACKGROUND

February, 1997- drake spear is (dishonorably) discharged from the marines.

the spear family decides to purchase a local pizza place (the upper middle class family thought it would be a good environment to raise foster kids also it’s a place where Richard can put his robotic prowess to use)

they have had two (foster kids) so far and for some reason none of them stick.

June, 1997- drake moves out of his parents house.

July, 1997- the business takes off under the spears management.

Children love the robots.

October, 1997- a child goes missing at the restaurant.

The police questioned the owners but determined none had anything to do with it.

They were wrong.

March, 1998- 12 year old Andrew Doe was placed in the care of the spears.

Two months later he meets drake (he was busy with the investigation and didn’t want to risk getting caught)

Andrew got quiet after that. (more so than usual)

The next two years are basically the same as canon for Andrew except the existence of Freddy Fazbears.

June, 2000- four children go missing at the pizzeria.

Drake tries to make Andrew watch the last one.

Andrew fights back(for the first time)

He couldn’t care less about himself but he draws the line at watching drake hurt other kids.

June, 2000- the Andrew Doe became the fifth victim of the 2000 missing children’s incident.

None of the children’s bodies are found.

Backtrack to two years earlier.

The business is loosing patronage because of the first murder.

Nathan Wesninskie, mob boss and serial killer, Nathan sees the goings down and decides to invest in the company to keep it going.

{Idk his reasoning but bare with me here}

Back in July, 2000- Nathan sends Lola and the newly caught Alex Nathaniel to clean up drakes mess.

Dead kids is not something Nathan wants to publicly be associated with.

Nathaniel tries to run.

Andrew gains a friend.

They are two enraged and vengeful souls stuck in the same vessel.(golden Freddy)

The actual story

Aarons pov. October 2000

He’s alone.

His mom is distant and neglectful.

But she’s never hurt him.(in canon she doesn’t start hurting him till after he contacts Andrew)

She’s high a lot.

She had a date with some guy and she lets him come with her. It’s at an exy game.

He likes exy.

This stranger keeps calling him Andrew and asking where he’s been.

He’s a police officer .

He has had a twin.

He steals his mom’s pills to ease the ache of what could have been.

He hates his mom for giving Andrew away. He hates the spears for letting Andrew out of their sight, he hates Officer Huggins for telling him about Andrew, most of all he hates himself for not being able to do anything to help Andrew.

His mom takes one too many pills when he’s 16, he doesn’t cry at her funeral.

He’s lucky Nicky cares.

They greave the “what if” together.

He’s 20, with a scholarship at palmetto university. He plays exy with Nicky.

He likes exy

He wonders if Andrew would have liked exy.

He’s been sober for years.

He and Matt really helped each other with their sobriety.

Kate also helps.

Every year on the date of his brothers disappearance he goes to the memorial. (There are no grave for a missing nobody, a Doe)

The spears knew but they didn’t want to think about it.

If they pretend Andrew never existed, then it never really happened, right.

Someone else is at the memorial.

Hes never really believed the spears were entirely innocent

the lady tells him about Freddy fazbears

She looks like a broken woman

(She lost her son)

Something doesn’t feel right

Over summer break he gets a job as a nighttime security guard.

His family comes with him for moral support (the foxes)

He is going to find out what happened to his brother.

And Andrew is going to fucking kill anyone who tries to hurt him or any of the other children.

(In his eyes anyone who is there at night is a threat)

Nothing good had ever happened when someone comes near him at night.

Then stuff happens and Aaron eventually finds out what happened to Andrew and he kills drake. In the end Andrew, Neil and the other kids are set free.

The sub plot would involve Andrew and Neil slowly growing to trust each other and the other dead kids forming a bond that starts to heal their mental wounds. Kinda their both still angry and vengeful ghosts who’s only purpose (in their minds) is to protect the other kids)

Andrew died fighting for them and that followed him into death and Neil ran when he saw Andrew’s corpse and although he ran for himself after death he feels unexplainably protective over Andrew.

NOT A ROMANTIC STORY FOR NEIL AND ANDREW. THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS PLATONIC BECAUSE THEY ARE FOURTEEN AND THIRTEEN AND DEAD. (They don’t need romance they need some who will stand unwavering at their side)

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #the foxes #the foxhole court #aftg fanart #neil josten #aftg fic #aftg crossover #fnaf au #I’m sorry I just needed to get this out of my head #feel free to write it #fanfic #first attempt at writing #angst #aftg angst #aaron minyard #drake spear #Cass spear #nathan wesninski #dan wilds #matt boyd #nicky hemmick #lola malcolm #I’m so sorry