#and i think mr forster would shake my hand for that

[posthumus]

kaz and inej want what philip herriton and miss abbott have

[angelswithcigarettes]

“cinque”

Summary: Rossi and Hotch take in one last kid - Spencer.

AU: Foster Family AU

[Maybe this is important for a few:

Ages: Spencer:7, JJ:9, Emily:14, Garcia:15, Derek:17

The rest of the characters are their normal age in this AU.]

Warnings: Past Child Abuse, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse

Word Count:9348

First Chapter:

The first time Hotch and Rossi see Spencer he is sitting on a chair in the hospital, kicking his legs and having his arms crossed, next to him a little stuff animal having blood on it just like his clothes.

"Thank you for coming" Mrs Landford the women they have been working with for years at child services approaches them.

"Of course" They had mentioned that they want to take in one last kid permanently. Completing their family.

"I need to warn you he is not an easy child."

"We somehow raised Derek we will be fine." Rossi jokes and approaches the boy but she hold him back.

"I am not saying this to prevent complains in case he misbehaves I am saying this because you are the fifth family in seven months."

"What happened to him?" Hotch asks seeing the injuries.

"The father of the forster family snapped the police found Spencer like this at a rest stop after the man himself had called the police."

"He snapped?"

"He told the person on the phone that Spencer wasn't bearable anymore, that he after almost two months couldn't handle it anymore."

"That bad?"

"He is lovely child but he just - I have no idea to describe it to you." They watch him look around the room. "If he is calm and talks I can assure you there is no kid as adorable and smart as him."

"If he talks?" Aaron asks skeptical.

"Families said that he sometimes won't talk to them or just repeats their sentences and if they don't understand his language he gets upsets."

"Why was he placed in the system?"

"His mother had to be hospitalized and his father abused him for the years he was alone with him." Rossi and Hotch share a look and then Hotch walks towards the child first, crouching down in front of him, while Mrs Landford sits back down next to Spencer and Rossi stays back a little bit.

"This is Aaron, do you maybe want to introduce yourself?" She asks in a kind voice and the boy shakes his head keeping on kicking his legs. "Well he and David are going to take you home with them and you know what cool thing I heard? David writes book which probably means he has a lot in his house."

"My books are gone."

"Your books will be picked up by someone and we will send them to Aaron and David." They notice how he looks past her not in her eyes and then he turns his head and looks at Aaron for a moment and then at David, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"David Rossi he was in a book Mrs Janson had." He tells her.

"Did you read his book?"

"Yes"

"Well was it a good book?" She asks trying to give him something to connect over with the two men.

"Yes"

"Do you have any questions about the book? You can ask him every single one if you want." Even after taking in four kids this was new. Only Derek had been allowed to read the books yet and he loved it. Penelope didn't want to and the rest is to young. At least officially, Emily read them too but made a promise to David not to tell Aaron.

"Do you know the Zodiac Code? Did you see it?" He asks suddenly his eyes filled with intrest.

"I did" Hotch speaks up. "I had to look through the original files for a case, I held the letter in my hand."

"Is it true that no one cracked it yet?"

"Yes"

"If I start working at the FBI would I be able to try?" He asks.

"Tell you what it's not really classified so if you want to I will get you a copy and you can try before you do that."

"Really?"

"Really." They didn't expect to someday bond to a child over a serial killer but if it helps.

Rossi is in retirement writing books for a living while Hotch is working at the BAU.

"What do you say we drive home first and you can meet our children and then we see what Codes I can get my hand on?"

"There are more?"

"Pssh don't tell Mrs Landford." She is after all these years more than aware that neither one of them would hand him something that will hurt him. Aaron will probably think of his own codes all night long making them up just so Spencer can solve them.

She remembers how she came to visit finding him in the backyard laying on his stomach still in his suit next to JJ looking at a butterfly with her.

"Only if Sima can come?" Spencer asks.

"Who is Sima?" Shyly he points at his stuff animal turtle. "Oh of course you can take Sima, Sima might need a shower soon though."

"She is a land turtle, Sir"

"I am pretty sure even land turtles need a shower."

"Then you are pretty dump. Where would they shower?"

"Ehmm in the river?" Hotch asks coping Spencer's attitude making the other two adults smile at them.

These two are gonna be just fine.

More chapters:

[lostbbygorl]

REVERSING EACH DAMAGE (LEVI X F!READER):

Mr. Ackerman frequently visited the Magaths home after that afternoon. Isabel would sometimes accompany her elder brother, but Levi came alone most of the time. Levi and Y/N were getting closer and closer, and unknowingly, Y/N had fallen for Mr. Ackerman! She didn’t understand these new feelings at all, but she did know that no matter how difficult they were, she liked them.

One day, Mr. Ackerman decided to bring his aunt, Ms. Katrina de Lancey and her daughter, Amanda with him, much to Y/N’s annoyance. Ms. Katrina was a nosy, snobby elderly woman. She and Y/N had met in Shiganshina previously when Y/N had gone to visit Nifa and cousin Elias. Lady Katrina had tried her hardest to belittle Y/N, and force her to answer her interrogative questions, which Y/N didn’t give her the satisfaction of succeeding with. Never having been denied anything in her life, Lady Katrina was flabbergasted and decided that Y/N was someone she deeply distrusted and disliked.

“ Ms. L/N, meet Amanda, my daughter”, Lady Katrina introduced. Y/N smiled politely at Amanda. Amanda was a very thin girl with her braided brown hair and square glasses. She was dressed in different shades of brown, and she was awkwardly fidgeting with her fingers. She didn’t smile or say a word the entire trip to the Magath’s household, and occasionally whispered to her mother. Never before had Y/N met such a plain, boring girl!

“ Amanda is engaged to my nephew. They’ll be married by next summer”, Lady Katrina said, staring intensely at Y/N for a reaction. Lady Katrina had figured out that Levi was in love with Y/N, and that unlike the first time they met, Y/N now returned Levi’s feelings. To say she was furious would be an understatement! How dare Levi fall for a poor, rude girl whilst engaged to her daughter (who had no desire to marry Levi either)? Levi winced for a fraction of a second and Y/N remained calm even though her mood just got spoiled. Why was she bothered by this news?

“ That’s terrific news, my lady. I congratulate both Amanda and Mr. Levi. I’m sure they’ll be ever so happy together for the rest of their lives. I can’t wait for the invite, Mr. Ackerman”, Y/N murmured.

Suddenly, the door to the fireplace burst open and an apologetic Mrs. Magath made her presence in the room.

“ Y/N, read this quickly!”, she said out of breath, handing a letter to Y/N.

“ A letter, at 9.00 PM? It must be urgent”, Mr. Magath said. Y/N’s hands trembled as she finished reading. She threw the letter at the wall, and an inhuman shriek left her mouth! Lady Katrina held onto Amanda, and Levi rushed to her side.

“ Stupid, selfish, foolish girl!”Y/N screamed.

“ What happened?”, Uncle Magath queried in a concerned voice.

“ It’s that idiot, Sasha! She went to Yarkcel with the Forsters. The group noticed she was missing for a whole day when a letter notified them of her whereabouts' ', Y/n said, fully crying now.

“ And where is Sasha?”, Uncle Magath asked.

“ In Ragako, miles away from Yarkcel, engaged to Mr. Yeager who she plans on eloping with! Sasha has eloped!”, Y/N loudly completed, breaking down in Levi’s arms.

“ Ragako isn’t that far from here! Theo, grab your coat and your horse this instant! You must find our niece”, Mrs. Magath ordered.

“ Don’t need to tell me twice”, he replied getting up.

“ I’ve been ordered to go home immediately”, Y/N sniffled.

“ I’ll arrange a carriage for you, ma’am”, Levi comforted.

“ I’m deeply sorry for this unexpected fiasco. I assure you that your journey back to Trost will be safe and comfortable. It’s the least I can do”

“ Mr. Levi, I can’t thank you enough!”

“ Don’t mention it, ma’am”.

The scenario back at home was incredibly messy! Mrs. L/N was sobbing on the couch out of worry for her youngest daughter, and the L/N sisters clutched onto their mother. Christa was back from Ermich, and Mr. L/N was out searching for Sasha in Ragako. Christa and Y/N shared a look. The entire night, nobody got a wink of sleep. Mikasa tried getting her mother to eat, whilst Ella fanned her. Ella wasn’t entirely shocked at the news of her sister running off. Sasha was a reckless, mindless flirt! She was desperate to snatch a handsome officer, and now she’d been seduced! Y/N had confided about Mr. Yeager’s true nature to Christa only.

“ He’s a notorious womanizer, Christa, and Sasha had to run off with him of all people! God, I swear I’ll behead that man when I see him next!”, Y/N snarled. Christa stroked her back, attempting to calm her down.

“ You’ll do nothing of the sort. Calm down, we’ll see what happens”, Christa soothed.

“ You’re right. I must divert my mind from all this”, Y/N sighed. She then implored Christa about her time in Ermich, which excited her.

“ Oh it was marvelous for the most part. Remember those letters I sent to Mr. Smith? Well, it turns out Marceline isn’t a true friend! She hid them from him. Mr. Smith reached out to me by himself and apologized for leaving me so suddenly. We spent so much time together!”, Christa giggled. Finally, some good news, Y/N thought. The two sisters chattered all night before falling asleep together. In the morning, they awoke to hyper shouting! At once, they ran downstairs to see what the commotion was all about.

There she was, grinning from ear to ear and dressed in a posh whiter gown: Sasha L/N! She was holding hands with a serious looking Mr. Yeager, and Mrs. L/N was stroking her cheeks and talking hyperly to her. As one track minded as ever, Mrs. L/N was just glad that Sasha came back home married! Rita, the maid, served lunch at the table. The atmosphere in the room was tense. Papa and the rest of the sisters didn’t say a word. It was only Mama and Sasha who spoke. Papa interrogated Mr. Yeager. Sasha finally switched her attention from Mrs. L/N to Y/N, who she was seated beside.

“ Isn’t my husband handsome?”Sasha poked. She was under the impression that Y/N loved Mr. Yeager, and that she had stolen away the heart of her much more popular elder sister’s object of affection. Y/N nodded coldly, not wanting to discuss this imprudent match at all! She made no eye contact with Sasha, and was too busy fearing what events would lay out in the future. Mr. Yeager didn’t love Sasha at all, and he was only after money. Y/N internally winced at the heartbreak Sasha would experience should Mr. Yeager not ditch his womanizing ways.

“ Our wedding was intimate, but my god, it was heavenly!”Sasha gushed.

“ I looked like a goddess in my wedding dress, If I do say so myself, and Mr. Yeager was as handsome as ever. Oh, silly me, I call him Zeke now. Anyways, only Uncle Theo and Auntie Magath were present, along with the priest, Mr. Nick, and Mr. Ackerman. Of course, me and Zeke too”. Y/N’s head shot up at this news. What was Mr. Ackerman doing at Sasha’s wedding?

“ What was Mr. Ackerman doing there?", she questioned.

“ Oh, Mr. Ackerman searched for us everywhere before we got discovered in our hiding spot: a quaint little inn on the outskirts of Ragako”, Sasha began.

“ Who do you think paid for the wedding? Mr. Ackerman had us married at a small church the very next day. But you mustn’t tell anyone, promise you won’t!”Sasha instructed.

Later on that afternoon, Y/N cornered Mr. Yeager. She tried so hard to get her anger under control, but she couldn’t.

“ Listen to me, you blasted buffoon from hell”, she started with a look so vicious Mr. Yeager flinched and took a step back.

“ I know of your true nature, and I know of your drama with Isabel Ackerman. I’ve been enlightened about all the lies you spit”, she continued. Subconsciously, Y/N neared Mr. Yeager’s face.

“ If heartbreak of any sort ails Sasha, and I discover that you’re the root cause of it, nobody will ever hear from you again”, Y/N threatened.

“ I’ll expose every dirty secret and lie of yours. Moreover, if word about the little fiasco between you and Isabel gets out, you’ll be met with the same fate. You’re so fond of playing with the adolescent feelings of 15-year-old girls and leading them on, now you must keep your promise to Sasha. Never again will you court or seduce any other young girl, as Sasha is now your wife who you claimed to be so enamoured with back at Ragako. Have a nice life”, she spat before stomping off to her room. Christa sensed Y/N’s disapproval and anger the second she slammed the library door shut and dashed upstairs to her room. Christa entered the room tentatively, horrified upon witnessing the sight of her dear sister sprawled on her bed, weeping into a pillow.

“ Y/N? Y/N? Oh, do answer me, darling. Are you still dismayed about the wedding after threatening Mr. Yeager?”, Christa urged, gently shaking Y/N.

“ Not only that”, Y/N sniffled. She finally sat up and wiped her tears.

“ Remember when I told you that Mr. Ackerman proposed to me? Well, it turns out ages after that little event, I’m hopelessly in love with him”, Y/N tearfully confessed.

“ Mr. Ackerman paid for Sasha’s wedding and all the commissions and all that. I’m not entirely sure, but I think he was behind your rekindling with Mr. Smith too”, she finished.

“ All of that is great. Why do you cry?”, Christa probed.

“ It’s because I have a strong feeling he’s fallen out of love with me! I’m much lower than him in rank socially, and I’ve rejected him once in a horribly rude manner, and now with this whole elopement tosh, I’m from a family ripe with scandal”, Y/N sobbed, her figure shaking so much even the bed creaked.

“ Why would any man of birth as noble as Mr. Ackerman still love me? He’s over me, and I’ve just learned to love him”, she finished, her voice laced with bitter regret and sorrow. Christa pulled her into her chest in a hug.

“ If he truly loves you, he’ll overlook all of this”, she assured.

“ If he didn’t truly love you, he wouldn’t have gone as far as to search for Sasha and secure her marriage. If your hunch is right, as they always are, and he’s urged Mr. Smith to contact me again, then that’s not for my happiness, it’s for yours. Don’t you see, Y/N? He’s doing everything in his power to win you over! He’s fixing all his mistakes”, Christa explained, her expression one that said: “ How does someone of your level of intelligence not realize the things I just enlightened you about?”

Y/N smiled at her sister. She realized how stupid she had sounded 2 minutes ago.

“ Christa, what would I do without you? All you’ve said makes so much sense to me now. I just wish there was a way for me to meet Mr. Ackerman now. He’s the person I most wish to see as of present. And oh how I wish to wed him. But alas, that could never be”, Y/N sighed.

“ Why not?”, Christa inquired.

“ For he’s engaged to another woman against his will. And worse, she seems to be highly uninterested in him, and he has never been interested in her".

[teenagemutantninjabirtill-blog]

EPISODE  1: An Exceedingly Good Tale

Birtill's Log...fart date 2003....

I had just been to an outdoor screening of Back to the Future with my then girlfriend, where we had finished off a bottle of both questionably priced and tasting wine. I’d like to blame the wine that my girlfriend had shrewdly purchased, though with the frequency of such sloppy bowel catastrophes (such frequency that I have been able to construct a blog), that idea is perhaps debatable.

As we swiftly made our way to the tube station, rushing to catch the last tube of the night, I felt that all-too-familiar and terrifying sensation of my bowels “dropping”. Alarmed, but keeping my cool, I ran to McDonalds. There was a McDonald’s, thank God. McDonald’s would provide me with a porcelain throne that my bowels could paint with their gushing flow until their little hearts were content. But good God, it was closed! Closed! If you can’t rely on McDonald’s for shameful meat produce and a public toilet, what can you rely on them for? My nonchalance was starting to drop, just like my bowels... my cool beginning to warm...my chest beginning to tighten. Why my chest and not my sphincter?!

My girlfriend ushered me on, insistent that we make the last tube of the night, a fair concern to those not about to shit their pants. So we rushed on bum in hands (for me at least) to the tube station and caught that last tube that would, in fact, not transport me home, but rather to my abhorrent destiny.

Ass clamped shut, I perched on the end of a fold-out seat, I think; my every muscle was so rigid it could have been air beneath me. The tube ride was agonisingly long. Every single stop involved a bolt off the tube and a frenzied look around my close surroundings, as I surveyed the amenities of each respective station, praying for a public bathroom. The amenities were severely lacking, particularly in a toiletry sense.

Finally I could take it no more, one more jolt of the tube would have my quivering rectum detonating; and, without a word to my incredulous girlfriend, I darted from the tube at the next overground station. Heartbreakingly I was presented with the staircase of doom, a spiral staircase that went on forever and ever into the depths of a soggy-trousered hell hole. Finally they did end, without a thought, I leapt over the perimeter on to what appeared to be a building site. It was like a new and improved episode of Gladiators. With extra laxatives.

A building site after hours would be the perfect place to drop off my heavy duty load. Building sites being a desolate space for a solid ten hours after sundown. Surely? I’d like to say these logical thoughts ran through my mind before I whipped my pants down and left my own pile of rubble on the site. My own steaming pile that blasted from my bowels orgasmically. Fatefully for me however, no such thoughts had time to pass through my one-track bowel-relieving mindset.

I sighed with relief, what a release. My clothes stuck to my clammy skin, and my anus was in no sense of the word clean; but what I felt was pure ecstasy . I crouched there, pants round ankles, allowing serenity to sweep over me.

Such relief could I only be distracted from by noticing a light from one of the portacabins on the site. A portacabin whose door was opening. My stomach leapt into my throat, and I can tell you, I did not want anything from down that way up in an area with taste buds. Like a giant ogre emerging from his log cabin, the strapping construction worker strode past me, unaware of me in my sordid squat.

A double take that resulted in an expression of horror, alerted him to my presence, and more importantly, to the mountain of shit around me. A expression of both sympathy and horror, that I had never before encountered, crept over his face. Before I could even finish a frantic explanation of how I came to be in such a situation, he shook his head and gestured far in the distance, telling me to get out of there. With pleasure, Sir. Regrettably I had been unable to make my escape before the door opened a second time and yet another construction worker materialised.

The second encounter was far less understanding than the first had been. Clearly a stronger bowelled man than I to lack such empathy to my plight as the first man had shown. He reacted aggressively and angrily (and surprisingly to be fair) to the sight that met him after finishing his potentially long day of work. I had found myself unwittingly in a rather unconventional game of Good Cop Bad Cop. That is, until the first man, obviously ashamed and disgusted by his own nonchalance to a stranger doing a dump in his workplace, reacted with a renewed shock and anger towards me. Me and my slender frame were terrified by the Bad Cop Bad Cop routine of these burly Herculean figures.

Still crouched with my trousers round my ankles, covered in my own shit, I looked up at them imploringly. Surely they could look into their hearts and see that no man would wish himself in this situation? The first man’s eyes scanned the floor, until he found what he was looking for. I followed his eyes, expecting to see the weapon he had chosen to bludgeon me with; but was surprised when my eyes landed upon a Mr Kipling Bakewell Tart box. He kicked it in my direction, wishing to be nowhere near me. My eyes questioned him, incredulously. “Scoop it up with that”. He demanded.

Not a suggestion I was at all thrilled about, truth be known. And to make matters even worse, some more construction workers were passing and simply had to get a look at the boy standing in a pile of his own shit. They stopped to watch from a safe distance as I used the Mr Kipling box as an oddly effective tool to scoop up my own poo into a blue carrier bag I had thankfully found on the floor. The ever increasing audience did nothing to quell my nerves. Splatters of brown adorned my quivering hands as they all stood around in a horrified silence mouths gaping in disgust.

I stood up, poop-filled carrier bag in one hand, Mr Kipling Bakewell Tart box in the other, shit everywhere else imaginable. “Right, I’ve done it now. Can I go?” I asked, shaking voice less that confident. “Come with us and bring the bag.” Was the worrying and curious reply. So on I walked, with two men in front of me and two behind, blocking my escape from any which way as we walked down an alley. I was petrified of what fate I would meet at the end of this alley. Shitting myself on the tube didn’t seem all that bad of an option right now. Were they going to make me eat my own shit? Were they going to beat the (now only figurative) shit out of me? And then douse me with my own shit? The beating sounded the most preferable option of the three, if I got the choice.

We emerged from the alley into a small suburban street, where they stopped at a gate next to someone’s backyard. “Throw the bag in the garden.” I was instructed by the first guy. And then what? I wondered. I Hesitated, worried both for myself and the poor owners of this garden. “Just fucking throw it!” I threw it. Finding a bag of human excrement in your garden was a worthy sacrifice for saving a man’s life. “Now fuck off.” Never had such blissful words been uttered! Never had I been so happy to hear this. I ran, as fast as I could, it taking me a whole twenty minutes of euphoric freedom to locate the tube station.

Unbeknownst to me, my girlfriend had gotten off the tube and was waiting at the platform. Furious was an understatement. But I had seen things she would never understand, done things no man should ever have to do; she would surely never understand. 

We found the nearest bus stop. Her livid that we now had to catch the night bus home, me never having been so happy to be alive and empty bowlled.

                                        The (rear) End

This episode of Ric Birtill's True tales of bum clenching terror have been annotated and written by Elizabeth Mililcan Forster.