Hey! This will be my master list :] This is for all the readers who want to spend a day with The Avengers or go on a hunt with The Winchester’s! (None of these fics are mine)
Can you make a short fic , platonic Logan howlett and teen reader, she’s his daughter like Laura, and she has the same mutation as him, but she’s autistic and in a wheelchair due to pain from when she had her bones with the adumantium metal, (it’s a shame there’s not much disability rep in comics) she doesn’t talk much, but she moves to Xavier’s school and all that
oooh, i love this request! i’ve never written for logan or anything platonic so it was a new experience for me, thank you!! i hope i did your idea justice :)
impossible.
PAIRING: platonic logan howlett x teen!reader
WORD COUNT: 442
SYNOPSIS: Logan had always been protective over you, refusing you to “put yourself out there.” Finally, he’s convinced to send you to Professor X’s school.
A/N: first time writing for logang hahah, hope you guys liked this. i havent seen xmen or anything wolverine related in ages so if there are any discrepancies i apologze. tysm to my lovely nonnie :) and as always, thank you to @cursed-carmine for the ribbon dividers :)
TWS: none
Logan Howlett had always looked out for you. Since the day you could utter out “Dadda,” he’d been by your side like a shield. Most of your life, you’d spent indoors. In and out of surgeries with the top doctors, courtesy of Charles Xavier, you had never had much time to be, quote on quote, “out there.” It had always bothered you. You had always wanted to be out there, to explore.
After years and years of convincing, you had finally persuaded Logan into letting you attend Xavier’s school. The convincing occurred from every end. You, Laura, and even Xavier himself.
“Logan,” Xavier had began gingerly one night. “She’s growing up. She’s almost an adult, just a few more years. You can’t hide her forever. Sooner or later she’s going to force her way out.”
Logan had winced. This conversation had always tended to come up between the two of them after late nights and a bit of whiskey in their systems. He should’ve known tonight was no different.
“Xavier, I know,” he claimed firmly, running a hand through his hair. “I know. You’re right. I just… I just can’t let go of her yet.”
“She’s a bright girl,” proceeded Xavier sternly. “She’s a mutant too. And she’s already dealing with the adumantium. She’s not going to be accepted at any other school, not socially at least. Plus, if you had to send her out into the real world – or at least a sliver of it – wouldn’t you rather her be under the supervision of an old friend?”
Logan inhaled sharply. “Yes. Fine. Can we please have this conversation another time? Please?”
“No,” chided Xavier instantly, his voice equally sharp. “I need to get through to you.”
That’s how you ended up today with a backpack hanging off the handle of your wheelchair with a box of your clothes in your lap, looking up at Logan with grateful and bittersweet eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. His ever-present “dad voice” was apparent in his tone but you could hear a deeper tone. A hesitance, nervousness.
You nodded firmly, looking up at him seriously. “Yes, Dad. I’m very sure about this. This’ll be good for me.”
Logan nodded, slightly disappointed that you didn’t change your mind but nevertheless, proud of you for making the change. “You’re right. It will be. And if you need me to come get–“
“–you, I’ll call,” you finished, amused. “I know. You know I will. I’ll call anyways.”
Logan’s eyes pricked with something bittersweet. “Okay, sweetheart. I love you. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Dad,” you murmured as he ruffled your hair. “Love you more.”
Daryl had gotten used to the loneliness of the cell that he had been banished to. A part of him felt like he deserved it. If he didn’t punch Negan, Glenn would be at home with his pregnant wife, Maggie, and Daryl would be home with his family. But he made his bed and now he has to lie with the guilt. A girl watching him from across the sanctuary catches his eye. He wasn’t sure who she was or why she was helping him when he certainly didn’t deserve it. The guilt was beginning to take over him when this teenage girl began to bring him food, not knowing she was his light at the end of a dark tunnel. He needed to get the hell out of the sanctuary- but he was going to need her help to do it.
Chapter one: Dark Cell
Chapter two: Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right
Chapter three: Father Knows Best
Chapter four:
Chapter: ??
This is ALL purely platonic, there is no love interest, Daryl has NO inappropriate thoughts about reader and same goes for every other character!
If everything goes how I want it too I will post atleast once a week maybe even more. I’m not sure how long this will go on for but I will be willing to do one shots after the timeskip if you guys want that.
Please request if you have any ideas that you would like me to write!<3
Touchy bestfriend james giving u the longest hugs 🫂 💗🙏
“James I need a hug,” is all he’s able to hear when you barge into his bedroom and collapse into his lap while he plays video games.
In a flash, his arms are around you and setting the controller on the desk.
“What happened angel?”
It’s not unusual for you to need a hug from James, but it is rare where you don’t wait for him to say yes first. Not that he’d ever say no to you.
“Long day, wanna cuddle.”
James doesn’t say much else, only standing with your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on the bottoms of your thighs.
He notes quietly as he lays on his bed with you, that you’ve opted for your nightie - something not much done unless you’d started your period or had a truly rotten day.
It’s nothing skimpy or suggestive, but James likes you a lot in the oversized grey dress that cuts at your knees with pockets and long sleeves.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asks, stroking your back as your breathing slows.
“Not right now Jamie.” You say quietly, yawning into the crook of his neck. “Can you squeeze me tighter?”
James obliges, corded arms wrapping around you tight as he feels comfortable doing. In no time he feels your body go lax and can hear the little snores and feel the puff of your breath against his neck.
He’s probably going to have to message Sirius and Remus to let them know game night is cancelled.
He finds he doesn’t mind it much; not when your hold on him tightens when he shifts position.
can i request marauder!reader being surprised by the boys bcs its their birthday 🤍 my birthday is on the 18th this is basically a gift 🥺
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘!
pairings ⁑ platonic!james potter x reader , platonic!remus lupin x reader , platonic!sirius black x reader
word count ⁑ 597
being kept in the dark about things can be one of the most terrifying things to you, unaware of where you’re going and seeing nothing but pitch black. however, with sirius black’s hand in yours and his assuring voice, you trusted him with only a smidgen of anxiety and pinch of wariness.
he had dragged you away from the library, ushering one of his cotton black headbands into your hand to cover your eyes and since then has been walking you to god knows where at the stroke of midnight.
there’s a creak of a door, both your footsteps load against the cobblestone and sirius assures you up the thin steps. “grata domum,” sirius whispered before continuing to walk, this allowed you to ease – knowing you were arriving to the gryffindor common-room.
however, sirius doesn’t have to know that.
the candlelight that shone across the walls of the hallway dissipate into a darker setting behind your clouded vision. sirius moves from in front of you to behind, holding onto either sides of your shoulders as he continues to walk.
“what’s going on, sirius?” you ask with a slight chuckle, nervous and curious all at once. “so impatient, one second.”
you heard hushed whispers, rushed and clearly trying to withdraw from being noticed. it sounded like arguing, and you knew it would be remus and james alongside sirius now, unable to hold back.
“okay, okay, okay-” sirius finishes, cutting his friends off before returning behind you, hands gently caressing your shoulders. it’s quiet for a few beats, only noise is the crackling fire as you guess the boys are noiselessly communicating.
“you can take your blindfold off now, love.” you listen to sirius’ words, peeling off his headband and hesitantly looking forward before gaping.
james and remus stand in front of you – makeshift birthday hats and a chocolate cake in remus’ hands. what you assume as chocolate sponge encased with more chocolate frosting and his handwriting styled with ‘happy birthday y/n!’
sirius squeezes your shoulders, while you watch either boy smiling expectantly in front of you. there’s a few candles lit atop the cake – james stuffing the matchbox into his pocket while they begin to sing happy birthday. at midnight. in the middle of the gryffindor common room.
“oh my merlin!” you state in shock, tears welling up in your eyes as they finish off the chant.
“blow the candles out!” james states, and they all cheer once you do. “happy birthday, dearest!” remus continues, leaning forward to quickly kiss your cheek while sirius shakes you excitedly.
“thank you,” you reply in disbelief, flinching when james coaxes a bit of chocolate frosting on your nose. “worked hard on this, get your fingers off it,” remus returns, nudging james hip with his own as he walks towards the sitting area – setting the cake atop the coffee table.
that’s when you notice the wrapped presents beside it – red wrapping paper and ribbon – some neatly, others not so much… but you love them all the same.
“while remus cuts the cake, lets open some of your presents,” sirius states, guiding you to the couch with james while remus drops his hands to his thighs and giving sirius a friendly glare – while doing exactly as stated.
“thank you,” you say again while james tuts at you, “wait till you see what sirius got you – won’t be thanking us then.”
“at least mines is decent,” remus chimes in while flopping cake onto the paper plates. the loving bickering continuing on as you unwrap your presents, not wishing to celebrate in any other way.
summary: in which reader goes through a depressive episode but she doesn't need to suffer alone, or. . . in which I got inspired by that hotch and emily's scene.
pairing: platonic!aaron hotchner x gn!reader; platonic!bau x gn!reader
w.c: 2.1K
warnings/content: tw!depression; descriptions of feeling numb, insomnia, poor eating habits, feeling as if you're suffocating and confusion; basically a depressive episode; minor character death (mentioned).
a/n ²: this is based on my own experience, not everyone feels the same way. if this is triggering for you (read the warnings, please) then don't read it.
navi
masterpost
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“Is everything okay?”
You released the grip you had on the file when the voice of your boss brought you back to Earth.
Your head was on haywire. The case wasn't much help, it didn't end well, not like you wanted, at least. Each one of you endured it in a different way but you could see through Emily's eyebrow twitch as she dozed off, in JJ's far away gaze as she stared out the window and in Derek's strained smile as Spencer checkmated him on chess for the tenth time. This job took a tool on all of you but the choice was always clear — you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
And your head played tricks on you in spite of the death you saw every day. You called it grey days; the ones where, as soon as you opened your eyes to start the day, you'd drift to the void of nothingness. The colours were faint, if there were any at all. They just didn't matter to you as you walked by your apartment and everything was tidy up. While your brain mocked you for the numbness as you ate and the cracks caused by dryness in your lips. Nothing out of order, except for the mess inside your head. As long as it stayed there, it was fine.
But apparently, that's not what happened. You've been reading the same paragraph for the thirteenth time and you had misspelled the same word multiple times. You couldn't concentrate on paperwork and that's when you wished to finish things like Spencer did. He did everything perfectly and fast, always the first to be done even after proofreading it. Fucking IQ of 187.
In resume, you were not fine. The case was just an added bonus. And you were too stubborn to admit it to anybody, most definitely not your boss.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, turning the page after blinking to escape the blurriness of your sleepless nights. “Just finishing up some reports.”
He took his seat by your side, two cups being placed in the table in front of you.
“Why don't you finish up tomorrow?” He offers, leaning back as he relaxed his shoulders. He seemed to be winding off for today, his paperwork forgotten at his side. Those were probably finished already, and more awaited him at his office back at Quantico. Hotch worked too much. You wondered if he ever went crazy for a break — you knew he needed it. “Get some rest. Take a nap before we land? There's still some time.”
Your lips curled up in a smile. The first real one of your day. You found yourself unable to react when people explicitly showed they cared about you. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do?
But it made you secretly warm inside. They care. I'm not alone.
Everyone knew you liked to sleep on the jet. As soon as you walked in and took your seat by the window, you were gone done for the day. Derek often made fun of you but you were used to it.
Today, you went straight to the casefiles. Burying yourself in work in order to ignore the intrusive thoughts running through your mind. That's the best outcome you could gather.
Except it wasn't.
“I can't,” you said, writing down the date on a new file. “Too much to do.”
Hotch stayed silent and you took that as the conversation being over. When you were concluding another set of paperwork, he softly nudged one of the cups into your hands. You blinked up in surprise and that must've been the distraction he needed to pull the files out of your hands and push the mug into them.
A look was all it took for you to accept it and sip into the beverage. Tea. It calms you down. Garcia always makes sure to sneak in a packet into your go-bag, knowing you crave those most of the time — and on days like these — the jet had the tea option too, despite the coffee addicts sitting around.
“I want you to make a deal with me.”
You peered at Hotch through your eyelashes, slightly alarmed. “That's concerning.”
He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. It was weird seeing his strict mask crumble down into a relaxed demeanor without that crease in-between his eyebrows plus the familiar daily harsh glare.
For some, the image of Hotch chuckling was barbaric. You'd definitely never believe it if you hadn't seen it yourself. The same was for any of your friends. It was absurd, but it happened.
“What would this deal be, sir?”
“Take a break,” his gaze lowered to the fawn casefile quickly and then to you, the strict fire in his eyes coming back slightly. Except that that one wasn't from Hotchner, BAU's unit chief, but from Aaron, your friend that enjoyed going on marathons when he had a — rare — day off, the one who actually laughed at jokes involving sports. “You are tired. You deserve it.”
You don't.
There are more victims out there, ones you haven't even heard of yet and you're whining about not having enough sleep or not being able to breath right because your chest is tight.
You don't deserve rest. You don't deserve the life you have. You don't—
“I'm almost finished.”
“The deal is: you're gonna go weeks, months even, feeling fine,” he leaned back, watching you focus back on the paperwork. He was able to see the bags under your eyes and that grey haze. Anyone could. No amount of make-up could hide the pain in your eyes. “Then, you're gonna have a bad day.” Your hand froze as you were about to turn a page. He carried on. “And that's understandable. Just let me know when you do and if you'd like to talk about it. Can you do that?”
You wanted to say you were fine and move on, just pretend you weren't dying inside, begging to get some time away from you own thoughts. But a part of you desired to be taken care of, to be heard, even if what you said didn't make any sense. You wished to just be heard.
So, for the first time in a long time, you admitted it out loud — to your boss, of all people. Well, he offered first so that was on him. Through the way he looked at you, a spark of understanding, you wondered if he knew what was going on deep down. Or if he find it too familiar to just let it go.
“I'm having a bad day,” you squeezed the pen on your hand until your knuckles turned white. Diverting your attention to the window, you focused on the clouds as you spoke up. “It's one of many but sometimes I—I can't help it.”
You felt your neck heating up, the shame arriving too soon after you confessed your feelings. It was so hard to talk about them, to be vulnerable with someone else.
Maybe they'll find me stupid. Not maybe, they'll certainly find me stupid and a burden and finally realize that I shouldn't be there.
“We can't control them all the time, can we?”
Your graze drifted back to Hotch, his stance hadn't changed as if he had been expecting your words. He carried on upon seeing the frown of confusion in your face.
“Our thoughts,” Aaron clarified. “We can't control them. Not all the time.”
You nodded quietly in response, munching on your lower lip.
“But we don't need to be alone with them,” he watched as you kept on fidgeting with your hands, picking at your nails. “You know what I do when I have a bad day?” Casting him a curious look, he offered you a sad smile. That reserved expression he had whenever he would mention Hailey in a conversation. “I visit Hailey's grave. I talk to her about everything. Not that I just remember her on bad moments, she's with me every day. But on those times... I need her. And that's what I do.”
“Do you feel better?” You ask, something in your chest crawling up until your eyelids.
Hotch reaches for your arm, squeezing in reassurance. “I do. But it's a lot better when I talk to someone that's here.”
That's when the dam broke. You didn't sob, no. It was more of a silent cry that had been waiting a long time to be released. When you finally know you can be open with someone and they won't judge you for it? It's relieving. You had been waiting on that feeling for such a long time.
“I'm sorry,” you sniffled, pulling your head away from his shoulder. “That wasn't supposed to happen, I'm not like this.”
“You don't have to apologize.” He said gently, offering you his handkerchief. You begrudgingly accepted, it was better than to have snot running out of you nose. You could wash it and give it back later. “It's alright.”
“A hard week, actually,” you shook your head, frowning at your hands. “I was doing everything on automatic, I felt so... numb. And now I just want to cry it all out. As if everything that I've been bottling up—”
“... it's coming back.” You nod as he completed your line of thought. “That happens when you don't get any rest.” He gave you a pointed look and you had the decency of smiling sheepishly. “Do you think you could try and do that tonight? Forget the paperwork. Go home, take care of yourself, get some sleep. I know it's a stretch to say you could have a few days off—”
You gasped, “please don't.” Hotch chuckled softly, and you flushed red at the desperation displayed in your tone. It's not that you were married to work, but disrupting your whole routine like this could make you feel even worse. You had to start by baby steps, like properly eating and sleeping, otherwise you'd feel more guilty for staying off work and the amount of late stuff you'd have to get back to...
“Let's say that if you need to take some time off...” Hotch said. “You can do that. You are allowed.”
“Thank you, Hotch.”
“No need to thank me.” He gave you a soft smile. Soon, both of you got back to your own little worlds. And you took your rightful spot by the window, cheek resting against the small pillow you carry on the jet. You followed the movement of the clouds as the plane whisked by them, your eyelids started getting heavy and that's when you knew that the tea was doing its effect in your system.
You were too wiped out to feel a warm soft blanket wrap around your body, but your fists subconsciously closed around it tightly.
“Are they okay?” Spencer asked softly, careful to not wake you up from your slumber. But you seemed to be in a deep sleep, so much so that you barely moved when he tucked his blanket around your shoulders. He had seen you crying a few minutes ago as you and Hotch shared a quiet conversation. He didn't want to intrude, but his concern was all over the place.
Hotch hummed, the corner of his lips quirking up slightly as Spencer made sure to move the casefiles to the coffee table instead of your lap, leaving you free of any burdens that could wake you up.
“They'll be fine.” He ensured Spencer, whose concerned eyes studied you for a moment before he nodded and sat down on his own seat.
You had a good support team right behind you if needed. You weren't alone, you'd be alright.
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a/n: I really wished someone said that to me. that's pretty much things I want to hear in days like that. if you feel this way, feel free to dm me anytime. if you don't want to talk, I love you either way <3
aaron hotchner x teen!reader, bau team x teen!reader
5 times the team hears about you and the 1 time they actually meet you
cw: fem reader, set over the span of three years, case mentions, broken family unit, hotchner trio, hotch is a swiftie, also refers to his daughter as ‘sweet pea’, team is nosy, eating/food, forehead kisses run the hotchner home
wc: 3.4k
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1. inception
child cases are always rough.
they’re not only extremely sensitive, but they hit emotionally for everyone involved.
it’s a small town and yet no strong leads. there’s no reason for the case to be as difficult as it is, but every case the team looks into is different.
local p.d. bring in a woman named chancy solace. she was the last one to see the missing boy alive and no one wants to wait around for another death to happen to look for evidence.
hotch was set to do the interview.
he asked basic questions about the missing boy, keeping his voice calm as she recounted her day through tears. they all knew she was innocent, no doubts about it. he was set to finish up after a few moments. it was clear she didn’t know much.
as he went to stand, however, solace had stopped him.
“do you have children, agent hotchner?” her voice was broken.
hotch nods. “i do.”
“how old?”
“my son is 3 and my daughter is 13.”
the air outside the room went stale. everyone on the team knew jack. some had even met him within his first few weeks of life. he was three, that was a fact - but a daughter? not once had hotch mentioned one, let alone one with such a large age gap. jack never rattled about a big sister either.
solace frowned, more tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “then you must understand the guilt i’m feeling right now. can you imagine if you were the last one to see your daughter before she disappeared? how can i possibly have it in me to be a part of this?”
hotch doesn’t want to think about the question she posed, not at all.
“we’re going to find him. it’s going to be alright,” it was a promise, one hotch intended not to break.
he left the room after that. their only known witness wasn’t much help for the case and there was no point in wasting time.
rossi stops hotch before he can walk away.
“why’d you lie?”
there’s no question on what rossi is asking about. it’s profiling 101 that lying to a suspect, no matter innocent or not, could be dangerous.
hotch glanced at his team.
“i didn’t.”
2. first encounter
you’ve had a really, really, really bad day.
from the second you woke up, everything seemed to go wrong. school wasn’t any better and by the end of the day, the only thing you wanted to do was see your dad. he’s your favorite person and a hug from him always reassures you that things will be okay.
you text him before your last class of the day to ask when he’ll be home. if it’s even possible, a deeper frown appears on his face when he tells you no later than six.
part of you wants to be happy from that response. no later than six means there’s no cases and he’s on top of his files. but after the day you had, you just need someone and waiting nearly four hours for him to get home is less than ideal.
can i come to the bau?
your text is a shot in the dark. your dad keeps you out of his profession and you’ve never stepped foot in quantico. you just hope he gets some sort of semblance for what's going on if you're asking to come see him.
he responds back seconds later. ‘i’ll send an agent.’
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you to get there on your own, there’s even a direct line from the train station closest to your school, but you're still young, only 14, and you know he would feel more comfortable having an agent pick you up.
the next time you check your phone, your dad has sent a message with the name of the agent and instructions on how to prove that it’s him. it’s not him being overprotective, it’s him wanting you to be safe.
agent anderson is easy enough to spot. you run through the procedures your dad wanted and once you know it’s the right person, you get in the car.
he doesn’t say anything when you shove your earbuds in your ears and shuffle your playlist and you’re thankful for that. you’re especially grateful that he doesn’t ask questions when you bite your lip and swipe away stray tears that have fallen down your face.
music is an outlet for you, an escape, and right now that’s all you wanted to do.
earbuds remain in your ears as you step into the bau building. anderson leads you through security and gets you a visitors badge. you very faintly hear any of his verbal instructions.
he leaves you once you reach the right floor, pointing through the glass doors to show you where to go. with a smile, he’s gone.
you weigh your options for a moment before walking in. you told your dad you're here but you don’t know where his office is. and right now, you really do not want to deal with anyone else. but with a deep breath, you decide to take your chances and head in.
a child walking into the bau is an automatic red flag, let alone one with puffy eyes and red cheeks, a clear sign of crying.
morgan and j.j. are the first two to stand up, wasting no time in circling their desks to walk to where you stand at the bullpen entrance; j.j.’s mouth already open with an “are you alright?” on the tip of her tongue.
but before they reach you, and before j.j. can speak, hotch is out of his office and moving down the stairs.
he steps in front of them when he faces you, thus shielding you from the prying eyes of the team. you look up at your dad, eyes full of a new wave of tears.
hotch doesn’t hug you then, though he desperately wants to, nor does he explain who you are to the team. instead, he places a strong hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly before guiding you up to his office. the door is shut and the blinds are closed. the two of you are cut off from the others and all of them know not to intrude.
“who was that?” rossi questioned after stepping onto the catwalk. the commotion was noticeable.
“i think we just met y/n.”
3. phone call
on flights home from cases, what the team does onboard genuinely varies with what time of day it is.
during early morning and late night flights, you can find most of the team asleep, trying to make up for the rest lost in the past few days. anything between that is typically a more active time.
hotch is dealt into a game of poker with the entire team. rossi acts as the dealer claiming he’s “not in the mood to get outsmarted at his favorite game.”
the entire group is laughing and chatting among themselves as they play. there’s no reason not to, it was a successful case - worth the positive mood on the jet.
hotch’s phone ringing cuts through emily’s turn.
he holds his hands up in defense and mumbles a quiet apology.
“hi sweet pea,” hotch barely has time to greet you before he gets cut off with your frantic “did you listen?”
his laugh causes the others to bring their heads up from their cards. a hotch laugh is uncommon, rare.
“i did. we finished up here last night so i listened before i went to bed and finished when i woke up,” he answers your question.
he waits for your response, already knowing that you want to know his thoughts on the album.
“well,” hotch pauses. “if i’m being honest, i liked it more than fearless.”
j.j. and emily are the only two who have any idea what he’s talking about. a record could be set for how fast their eyes snap to each other once it clicks.
hotch is quiet for a few moments. though no one can make out exactly what you’re saying on the other end, they can hear your muffled rambling.
“yeah yeah, i liked that one too,” hotch agrees. “i think my top two are dear john and haunted, though. her songwriting is incredible in those.”
whatever he means clearly pleases you judging by the content look on his face.
“alright i have to get going,” he starts. “but i have the vinyl reserved at the record store. we can go when i get back? should be home by two.”
you agree without hesitation, several “thank you’s” being repeated. hotch won’t admit it ever to anyone besides you, but he’s excited to hear it on vinyl too. it’s kinda your shared thing.
“i’ll see you when i get home, okay? i love you.”
he hangs up after goodbyes, placing his phone back onto the table before picking up his cards. the silence lingers in the air even after he makes the motion that he’s ready to continue. “what?”
“you listen to taylor swift?”
hotch smiles, a genuine one. “my daughter loves her. have to keep up somehow.”
4. vacation
when hotch doesn’t show up to work for a week, it takes only the first day for the team to panic. it had been a little over a year and a half since foyet had stabbed hotch and hotch had gone missing. no one was going to take chances when their boss, who typically had perfect attendance, showed up without notice.
rossi and morgan went to strauss at the end of the day.
their interrogation on hotch’s whereabouts is in good faith, but it doesn’t take a profiler to notice strauss’ sigh at their concerns.
“agent hotchner is on vacation,” she starts. “he should be back next week. until then, i am under orders to not assign a new case unless necessary.”
the agents turn to each other in confusion as they leave. “a vacation? come on rossi, when in all the years of knowing him has hotch ever willingly gone on vacation.”
the older man shrugs. “i don’t know. maybe this’ll be good for him.”
there’s no arguing with that.
when hotch returns the following monday, no one hesitates to notice the change in his physical appearance.
his skin is tanned and he has a slight tinge of sunburn on his nose and cheekbones; a clear sign he went somewhere warm.
“hotch!” emily catches him before he can retreat to his office.
all eyes are on him and he knows it.
“where were you?” she inquired.
hotch sighs. “greece.”
this catches the attention of the other team members in the bullpen. rossi seems to have found an empty chair at j.j.’s desk. even garcia had chosen this exact moment to get a new cup of coffee.
“greece?” emily stutters. “like the european country?”
hotch nods. “that’s the one.”
morgan whistles. vacations in the bau are fairly uncommon. the looming threat of being called back for a case stops most from planning. even if the timing does work out, no one goes far; let alone out of the country.
“and you just decided to go there for a casual vacation,” j.j.’s tone isn’t condescending, but rather showing genuine curiosity.
“it’s y/n’s birthday in a few months and she’s always wanted to go,” hotch explains like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “jack’s still a little too young so he stayed with jessica.”
he doesn’t mingle around after that, choosing to head up to his office to get set up after his week away.
“huh,” garcia murmurs. “didn’t take him for a greek island guy.”
“guess that shows just how much he’s wrapped around y/n’s finger.”
5. baked goods
you don’t have school today.
despite that, you still get up early to have breakfast with your brother and dad. once jack is picked up by the bus for school, your dad gets ready for work.
you stay in the kitchen, however, moving the cookies you made last night from one container to the other.
when your dad reappears, you wait for his hands to be empty before posing your question.
“is there any way you can give these to agent rossi?” you practically shove the container into your dad’s hand.
aaron raises an eyebrow. “rossi?”
“you mentioned he was italian,” you wait for a nod of confirmation. “these are canestrelli, they’re an italian cookie. i wanted to know if you could give these to him for a taste test.”
he smiles. “trying to expand your baking horizons?”
you match his expression. “exactly.”
with a kiss to your forehead, your dad is out the door and off to work.
“delivery,” hotch’s tone is steady as he knocks on rossi’s office door.
“from who?”
“y/n,” hotch answers as he sets the container down. “she tried to make canestrelli and wanted your opinion. i’m just the messenger.”
rossi takes the container from hotch. he opens it up before plucking a cookie out and examining it. “looks authentic.”
if he’s being honest, even if the cookie isn’t good, he’ll still love it.
but it isn’t.
of course it isn’t.
rossi takes one bite and his eyes widen.
“i haven’t had canestrelli this good since the last time i went to italy. tell her she should be very proud and i will be happy to pay for more.”
hotch can’t hide his proud expression. “i will.”
+1 first meeting
you always wait for your dad to get home from work. it’s routine.
plus, you made a promise to jack when you put him to bed that you would send your dad upstairs when he got home.
you bake in the meantime. it’s something to pass the time and you figure having something fresh to eat would be a nice surprise for your dad.
music plays from the record you have spinning. you keep it quiet as to not wake jack up upstairs. he’s not a light sleeper, but you don’t want to disturb his rest.
the side door opens as you're mixing the flour to the batter. tonight’s bake is gingerbread. easy enough to make.
it surprises you when your dad doesn’t call out a hello. he’s come home this late before when you’re still up and he always makes it a point to greet you. plus, you have music playing. there’s no doubt he can’t hear that.
“dad?” your voice is quiet.
you peer around the corner, stepping out a bit further when you see him, though you freeze when you notice the other people following him.
“hi sweet pea,” his voice is tired, you can tell. you close your eyes when he hugs you and kisses your forehead. if his team is here you know it’s not good.
“what’s going on?”
he turns to you. “i can explain in a few minutes. are you okay for introductions?” his voice lowers for the last part, not wanting the team to hear if you say no.
you nod, though anxiety bubbles at the pit of your stomach at the deflection of the question.
“everyone, this is y/n, my daughter,” your dad starts. unsure what to do, you wave slightly. “y/n, this is my team, that’s dave, derek, emily, spencer, j.j., and penelope.” he points to each of the people as he rattles his name off.
while your dad kept you out of his work, you did faintly know each member of the team. he talked about them in passing and jack rambled often about something “uncle dave” or “uncle derek” did.
“why are they here?” you hope your question doesn’t come off as rude.
your dad squeezes your arm. “can you go back in the kitchen for a few? i’m going to get these guys set up and then i can explain. is jack asleep?”
you nod. “i put him to bed a few hours ago. he was asking for you.”
“thank you,” he starts. “i’ll go see him in a bit.”
the conversation is over. you feel awkward standing in the foyer where you’re clearly the center of attention. you turn and walk into the kitchen. finishing your baking seems like a good idea.
aaron enters the kitchen as you’re pouring the batter into the pans. the music is off by now, though the record stays on the turntable. he waits for you to put the pan in the oven and face him before explaining.
“there’s a mole in the bau. we’re trying to figure it out but we obviously can’t work there. i volunteered our house. we would’ve gone to dave’s but he’s having work done.” you know he’s giving you the most minimal answer possible.
“oh,” you’re honestly not quite sure what else to say.
he continues. “we’re hoping to have it cleared up soon but we don’t have a lot of our normal equipment. i wasn’t expecting you to be up for all this. couldn’t sleep?”
“was waiting for you to get home,” you shrugged. “you know i always do.”
“yeah i know. i should’ve called.”
you turn to him. “It’s alright. i’m just going to clean up while i wait for the gingerbread to be done and then i’ll go to bed.”
your dad nods. “let me know when you do.” he disappears out of the kitchen after that.
cleaning up doesn’t take long and you’re still elbows deep in soapy water when the oven beeps. you take it out of the pan and set it on a cooling rack before gathering your stuff. you’re honestly exhausted.
going into the living room takes a moment of mental courage. you know everyone is in there and you don’t want to interrupt them. but, you’ve missed your dad and you want him to say goodnight.
“um, i’m going to head up to bed,” your voice echoes through the room. it was fairly quiet before and you feel embarrassed for interrupting that. the first part is directed at your dad. you turn to the rest of the team. “i made fresh gingerbread if anyone wants any. it’s on the counter, help yourself. i also put on a fresh pot of coffee and that should be ready soon.”
aaron’s heart is so full that he almost forgets the case at hand.
“i’ll be up in a minute,” aaron voices.
you hum, nodding to the team as a non-verbal goodnight.
he dishes out individual assignments within the team. they’ll work as a group to start before taking shifts so others can rest.
jack’s room is his first stop. he doesn’t wake the boy, choosing to instead kiss his forehead before picking up his stuffed dinosaur, a gift, and placing it back on the bed.
you’re just getting under the covers when your dad knocks.
“come in!”
your dad steps inside, shutting the door slightly.
“hi,” you smile.
“hi,” he echoes. “good day?”
you shrug. “yeah, i guess so. i got jack from school and we spent the afternoon together. missed you though.”
aaron frowns. “i’m sorry sweet pea. didn’t think this was going to happen. none of us did.”
“i know you didn’t. i’m not mad.”
you want to continue your statement and wash away any guilt you know he’s feeling. but, your body betrays you and a yawn cuts you off.
“alright, time for bed,” his words make you feel like a child but you know he’s right.
he tucks you in and like with jack, he kisses your forehead.
“goodnight dad, i love you.”
“i love you too.”
his demeanor changes when he goes downstairs and sits with the team. he’s serious, ready to work. right now this case is his priority. he, like others, wants to wrap it up quickly and efficiently.
emily nudges him when he sits down beside her. spencer and derek’s banter about the case is long drowned out.
It appears Tumblr recently changed a policy regarding post URL generation that makes your previous URLs invalid, which would affect master lists, cross-post references, etc.
The old URLs still work in the mobile app (for now) but they no longer work via browser.
I threw together some screen captures below showing the problem (below the cut). I've also included brief instructions on how to fix the problem.
If anyone has input or alternative solutions, please comment or reblog w/comments to help others :D
I noticed the problem a few days ago. I usually access Tumblr via mobile, but when I publish fics I use Tumblr through my browser.
Right now NONE of my links auto-created prior to 3/12/23 are working on browser, only links that were created after.
For example, I clicked on chapter 4 of a series I published months ago.
Instead of navigating to the hyperlinked page for chapter 4, the page instead functions as though you were searching the blog and gives you search results (or lack thereof).
In the example below, Tumblr says @deadbranch's blog doesn't contain a post when searching "the-killing-moon-chapter-4".
The previous URL that auto-generated when I published chapter 4 was "https://at.tumblr.com/deadbranch/the-killing-moon-chapter-4/8s73ajf05k8y"
You can see a comparison below of the obsolete URL (top) and the new valid URL (bottom).
The new URLs no longer use "at" in front of Tumblr and the initial summary words and randomized alpha-numeric string have been replaced with "www" and a string of numbers only, respectively.
To clarify, I've always published via browser, so the change in URL format comes from a Tumblr policy change, not the user switching from browser to mobile or vice versa.
TO FIX:
Go into the mobile app, click on the hyperlink that doesn't work in browser mode. Select mobile Tumblr.
Click on the three dots in the upper right corner of the post and click. Select "copy link" in the popup.
Once the new URL is copied to your clipboard, return to the page with the obsolete hyperlink, go into edit mode, and update the link.
If you don't mind your links not working in browser mode you don't have to do any of this. I believe most Tumblr users access content through the app, so this may not be a problem for most.
I use my browser frequently for editing and publishing, so this would be a major inconvenience if I left this as-is.
It's possible the Tumblr team is aware of the problem and will fix it, but I'm moving forward with updating my links anyway.
Hope this was helpful.
As mentioned previously, please comment if you have information to add or if there's a better way to fix the issue.
Warnings: panic attacks, cursing, slight violence (and implied), mentions of killing, bullying, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: James Potter x reader platonic, Sirius Black x reader platonic, Remus Lupin x reader platonic
Requests: hi! i miss her oneshots of the marauders, so... i would like to make a request where the reader is being the victim of mean comments, but not about her appearance but about her personality (since she is more introverted, anxious and awkward compared to the boys) and she just ends up hiding it from them, but one day they find out and it all comes out (I'll leave the way in which this happens open to you). maybe a little angst but with a lot of fluff at the end? <3
Hey, if you don't mind lol I have a request :)) Well, I have a lot of ideas about platonic relationships with the Marauders, and, well, one of them would involve the guys helping a female reader who suffers from social anxiety, and after being put in a situation that ends up giving her an anxiety attack, they try to help the reader with this. Rather angst and fluff I guess lol ps: I really love your platonic oneshots and I'm glad they reached me here from Brazil <3 (sorry if my english is bad, it's not my first language lol)
Requests by: Anons
*not my gif*
Summary: You could always count on your best friends, even in the worst situations
A/N: Hi :)
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
Their jeers reached your ears long before they took a hold of your shoulder and spun you around, sending your books flying in every which direction. You had just hoped that if you ignored their comments, then they would let you get to your class without any further problems.
How wrong you had been.
You looked up with wide eyes at the group of Ravenclaws that sneered down at you, shaking slightly under the grasp of the oldest boy who was yet to let go of your shoulder.
“I was talking to you,” He hissed, eyes narrowing as he looked you up and down in disgust, “And it’s rude to ignore people when they speak.”
A couple weeks ago, this sixth year group of Ravenclaws decided to make it their mission to make your fifth year a living hell.
They would taunt and laugh at you, talking about how they noticed the way that you were so different from your best friends and they would tell you how they were probably trying to ditch you.
You, of course, knew that wasn’t at all true because you were a marauder, same as James, Remus, and Sirius, and they never would have let you be one and they never would have pretended to be friends with you. They weren’t cruel.
Sure, you weren’t as loud or outgoing as they were. In fact, you were anxious and awkward around others, sometimes even having panic attacks, but they didn’t mind- never had- in fact, they would always help you in anyway that they could.
This group of bullies was beginning to wear you down, though. Their comments were relentless and they never once gave you a moment to breathe- unless you were with any of your friends, of course.
You didn’t tell the rest of the marauders about it either, not wanting to worry them or add something else to their already full plates to have to deal with, so you kept this one- not so little- thing to yourself.
The only reason that you weren’t with them right now was because they had woken up late and asked you to go ahead and tell the professor that they were going to be to class soon, which you were more than happy to do for them.
The boy finally let go of you with a small shove on the shoulder, sending you stumbling back a couple of steps into the empty hallway, “Merlin, you’re so pathetic,” He curled his lip.
The five other students behind him began to let out hyena-like laughter, doubling over while holding their stomachs as if he just said the funniest thing in the world.
Their howling was high pitched and never ending, like a ringing in your ears that never went away.
Before you knew it, your hands, then legs, then whole body had begun shaking and the lights got too bright and their laughter too loud and extremely overwhelming.
You fell ungracefully against the nearest wall and sank down to the floor with your knees to your chest as you rocked back and forth.
It was another panic attack.
Their giggles and chuckles only grew louder at your clearly distressed state, and only stopped when an all too familiar voice boomed from down the hallway, “Hey!”
You didn’t even have the strength to look up at James’s clearly furious voice, nor at the thundering sounds of steps making their way over to where you were.
The laughter had ceased and you were finally able to peel your eyes open the slightest bit to see the group of Ravenclaws that had once been standing menacingly over you, now backed into a corner cowering.
Remus, Sirius, and James stood in a protective wall in front of you with glares that could kill and their wands grasped in white knuckled grips.
“Get the fucking hell out of here before I curse you all into next year,” Remus hissed out dangerously.
“But she-“ One of the Ravenclaw girls tried to cry out.
“Get out!” Sirius bellowed, looking like he was about to pounce at any moment.
With that, they all scurried away with pale faces and sweat running down their foreheads, not once slowing their paces, even after they rounded the closest corner and were out of sight.
Immediately, all three boys turned on their heels and rushed over to your still panic stricken form as you took shaky deep breaths in order to try and get air to your lungs.
“N/n, n/n,” Remus called out gently, sinking down next to you and taking your shaking hand in his steady one before placing both against his heart, “Follow my breathing, follow my breathing.” He instructed.
James and Sirius stood guard, glaring down the empty hallway in case anyone was to try and come down it.
After a few moments, your breathing was finally able to go back to normal and your shaking had subsided throughout your entire form.
You gulped in a deep breath, dropping your head against the wall behind you, “T-thank you,” You said after a moment to all three boys, who were watching you with worried expressions.
“Are you alright?” James asked right away, dropping down beside you and rubbing your back, “What did they do?”
“I swear to Merlin, I will kill them-“ Sirius’s furious roar was cut off by Remus’s harsh glare.
“That’s not gonna help right now, Pads.” He told the boy sternly.
“They…” You contemplated for a moment whether or not to tell them the truth, before ultimately deciding that they didn’t deserve to be lied to after what they just did for you, “They’ve been picking on me for a while,” You admitted in a whisper, averting your eyes from all three of them, “And it’s been about how I’m so different from you guys and they noticed, and they talked about how we were only friends because you guys felt bad for me-“
“Wait, hold on, that’s not at all true,” Remus breathed out with wide eyes.
You nodded your head, “I know that, but it just got to be too much today and I guess it kind of triggered a panic attack,” You let out a deep breath, “I don’t know what I would have done if you guys weren’t here.”
James quickly brought you into a side hug, holding onto you tightly as he exchanged looks over your head with the other two, looks that promised revenge on those kids. But for now, their main focus was you.
“I wish you had told us,” Sirius fell down onto the ground in front of you, running a hand through his hair.
“I just didn’t want to worry any of you,” You whispered.
Remus squeezed your shoulder, “We always want you to come to us if something like this happens. We could have helped you take care of it sooner.”
“Now, come on,” Sirius groaned, standing up and stretching, “I don’t know about you lot, but I don’t feel like going to class anymore. Let’s go down to the kitchens instead.”
You giggled, accepting his outstretched hand, “That sounds good,” You told them honestly.
My Little Bit of Magic 🧙- @your-local-questioning-agender @its-hell @i-writes-things @etanordoesbullsh1t
all done!! thank u for the patience. i went through and got rid of some old deleted links and transferred everything to a new format so i hope u guys like it.
also lmk if anything doesn’t link up right! love u all!! <3 <3
Hey! This will be my master list :] This is for all the readers who want to spend a day with The Avengers or go on a hunt with The Winchester’s! (None of these fics are mine)
