#elizabeth keen fic

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Walls Broken Down ~Broken!Rita Calhoun xFem Younger!Reader

Summary— AU where Rita is friends with a young Reader (thinking 20s, whereas Rita’s in her mid to late 40’s). Rita has a past that haunts her, and one day it just all becomes too much. Reader is there for Rita as much as she can be.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, implied anxiety attack, past trauma, implied small mental breakdown, fluff, age gap (all legal), comforting, physical comforting, happy ending fluff, etc.

Enjoy (;

She knew you hadn’t meant to. All you had done was brush her shoulder as she had walked past Rita to grab some utensils. But now Rita could feel herself trembling in her own kitchen. She could feel her knees wobbling and her lip trembling. Before she knew it, she was collapsing back against the pristine marble top counter, falling to the accented floor with her back to the dark walnut cabinets.

Waves of raw pain crashed over the woman. She could feel the tears already surfacing as the memories punched her in the gut, one after the other relentlessly. Memories of him. A past too terrifying to reconcile. Him invading her senses once more. Him taking advantage of her once more. Him, the man who had ruined her for anyone else. She felt so numb. She felt so violated. She felt so used. Rita’s mind replayed painful memory after painful memory, not able to stop. That one singular touch had sent her mind into a spiral.

As Rita came crashing down to the floor, you had dropped what you were doing and had rapidly approached the shaking brunette. But as you kneeled down to comfort and check in with her, you had extended your hand to the women’s back. Rita instinctively withdrew with sharp skill, a horrifying instinct drilled into her. She sucked in a breath as she avoided your touch, like it was a hot, scalding iron rod, curling up with her arms around her retracted knees.

Rita closed her eyes, and a tear escaped her left eye as she recalled all the haunting memories of her past, the ones that she had thought had surely been buried long ago. Seemingly not. Her limp, curled up form floated back to that day. All those years ago, she had been so young. She had been so innocent, kind of like you. Your touch hadn’t even been that bad, hadn’t even been intentional. But it didn’t matter. A flood of sadness came over the woman next, filling every sense of her being in a depressive state.

Rita couldn’t stop the following downpour of tears that emerged from her form. She curled even tighter into herself, shaking violently on the ground. In the back of her mind, she could vaguely hear you calling out her name in appropriate concern. But the ringing pain in her head was louder. The brunette sat on her kitchen floor; her tears ran down her body and pool on the ground. She managed to peek out of her cocoon, but she couldn’t look at you. Instead, her reeling mind tried to grasp the surroundings around her. From her position, She could see the heights of her living room, where her Bloomingdale curtains had once hung, but now with her remodel, all there remains are the new, empty gold drapery rods waiting for new, luxurious drapes to cover the glass wall. She tried to focus on those, the drapery rods.

Her mind was an abyss. Her life was a failure. Why did she even try? It was useless. She was useless. Part of Rita knew that was not true, but that part was currently tied up, duck-taped, and thrown in a closet, door locked and key lost. The new and improved part of her that she had spent curating was thrown aside. The new coats of platinum white on her walls were stripped to reveal the mundane beige of her college youth. This wasn’t your fault. It was her own. She deserved this. She deserved all of this. She cringed internally at how pathetic she was behaving, at how pathetic she was.

After a god awful amount of time of sobbing on the tile floor, Rita eventually could produce no more tears. She sniffled and slowly raised her head from her defensive curl towards you. And she was immediately met by your eyes dazzling with concern and naivety. You looked up to her like a mentor and here she was breaking down in the middle of her kitchen. How pathetic. Rita felt a pang of guilt ripple through her as you attempted to speak to her once more.

“Hey, Rita…Are you okay…?”

But Rita was in no state for verbal coherence. She nodded, as her lip trembled. She felt so small. Even though she was taller than you, even though her build was stronger than you, even though she was decades older than you, Rita still felt small. She felt like she was small enough for the world to swallow her whole without anyone noticing. She felt like she was small enough for him to come back and for her to not be able to fight back.

Your eyes softened as you nodded and cautiously extended a hand to the brunette. Rita couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her lips at the kind gesture. That alone made her want to cry again. She slowly reached out and gingerly took your hand. With your help, the woman stood up on her wobbly legs. She took a deep breath as she stood. You didn’t know what happened, what was happening. But you were determined to be there for Rita.

Rita’s thoughts were still swimming, but now she had an anchor. Now, your consenting touch was keeping her tethered to reality. As you guided her to sit down by the kitchen island, Rita took deep breath after deep breath. She now knew that she couldn’t continue to ignore her past like this. No matter how many properties she owned, no matter how many times she remodeled and tried to cover it all up, no matter how many times she rebought her entire wardrobe, it would never go away. No, she had to properly heal. And as she squeezed your hand in gratitude and reassurance, she knew that she would be alright.

~~~

Rita Calhoun Masterlist

[bg-sparrow]

✦ August of Whump 2024 Masterlist ✦

Title: Somewhere Beyond the Sea Fandom: The Blacklist Rating: M Genre: Romance, Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort (this fic doesn't even know what it is, and I love it) Summary: Reddington's latest Blacklister is the face of a successful cruise line — and a former competitor in the luxury goods smuggling business. To obtain Albert Sconce's ledger, Liz and Ressler will have to go undercover as newlywed, prospective clients for an extended cruise on Sconce's newest ship. As they blur the lines they'd otherwise never cross, danger unfolds at every turn, threatening to sink their op and take them down with it.

This fic is built around the August of Whump 2024 prompt list, and this will be the masterlist for my selected prompts! Excited to give this a go, @augustofwhump!

Risk

Shock

Shady Business

Screams

Ache

Confusion

Promise

Attack

Caged

Secret

Insecurity

Deal

Guilt

Darkness

Claustrophobia

Disaster

Stress Position

Unavoidable

Midnight

Escape

Scraps

Stitches

Possession

Humiliation

Insults

Heartbeat

Machine

Bloody Nose

Control

Gift

Fuck It We Ball (lol)

[ace-of-spaders]

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneakin' in

Lizzington oneshot, 3B AU; Liz wakes up rested for the first time in a week but finds her daughter's crib empty.

For the first time in a week, Liz woke up feeling rested.

( Red had gone away on a business trip, and though Liz assured him she and Agnes would be just fine, she quickly realized she overestimated her capabilities or underestimated how big of a help Red usually is )

Taking her time stretching with her eyes still closed against the sun shining through the gap in the curtains, Liz finally turned to check on her baby girl... and her smile dropped along with her heart – the crib was empty.

Panic rising swiftly – someone took her baby!, how could someone take her baby with her just feets away?!, was the kidnapper still in the flat?, oh she's a terrible mother!.. – Liz already had her hand around the handle of the gun under her pillow, ready to haunt the one that took her baby down and rain hell upon them, when her eyes focused on a familiar object sitting on her nightstand that definitely wasn't there when she went to bed.

A brown fedora.

Liz took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling herself begin to calm – Red must have come home earlier than expected and found Agnes fussing so he took her to the living room to let Liz sleep, like he usually does – but didn't release the gun just yet, her strung up nerves not that easily soothed.

She strained her ears to hear what was going on in the living room – Agnes' babbling, or Red's voice, or his footsteps ( their daughter hit the phase in her life when she could barely tolerate it when her parents sat down while carrying her, needing them to be in constant motion ) – but the whole flat was eerily silent.

Trying not to lose it the second time – Agnes could have fallen asleep – Liz got up, gun in hand, and quickly but quietly moved to the living room...

...and the sight that greeted her finally made her not only relax, the hand with the gun falling lax by her side, but smile, warmth blossoming in her chest and misting her eyes.

The Concierge of Crime, the FBI's Fourth Most Wanted, the most famous, prolific and dangerous criminal of the 21st century Raymond Reddington was lying on her couch, his eyes closed and chest rising and falling in the slow, relaxed fashion of deep sleep, with his vest and shirt unbuttoned and Agnes lying on her tummy on his bare chest and stomach, her tiny fist closed around a handful of his chest hair. One of his hands was cupping her downy head, the other her tiny bottom, his position oozing protectiveness even in sleep.

Liz blinked quickly to get rid of the tears welling in her eyes at the sight – her dream come true, the perfect picture of the little family she always longed for – and put her gun down on the kitchen island before moving to perch herself on the edge of the couch beside Red's thighs, careful not to wake either members of her precious family.

For long minutes, she just watched them sleep, finding something incredibly soothing and satisfying in watching the relaxed, metronome rhythm of Red's breathing, Agnes moving slightly up and down on his chest along with it, and knowing without any doubt that the love of her life and their child were safe and sound and happy beside her.

Then, when the feeling swelling in her chest got too big to hold in, she leaned down a bit towards Red and layed a careful hand on his arm while calling his name quietly to wake him without startling:

"Raymond..."

He stirred at once, momentarily tensing, but almost immediately she felt his muscles relax and it took him a few moments to open his eyes, blinking bleary-eyed up at her as a man coming out of a deep sleep.

( And the idea that she and her little girl made him feel so safe, so at home that he could sleep deeply as opposed to almost painfully light sleep she watched him have a number of times during the early years of their relationship, then – just professional, and especially the months they were on the run, made her feel incredibly proud and satisfied, more than any professional achievement she had at work )

Once she was sure he was awake – once his eyes focused on her face and she watched a slow smile dawn on his face, of the genuine and warm variety that were reserved only for his family: her, Agnes, Dembe, Kate... and a couple of the closest associates/friends, on occasion – she smiled and let the feeling out in the form of one tiny and yet impossibly big, especially for them, sentence:

"I do love you."

And then she closed the remaining gap between their faces to kiss him and feel more than hear him saying "I love you, too, Lizzy" in between slow, deep, hungry kisses, the phrase rumbling softly in his chest as she slipped her hand up his arm to cup his cheek and then head and he shifted slightly to keep their little girl secure on his chest with one hand so he could slip his other hand into Elizabeth's lush hair, their kisses growing more heated....

...until Agnes began to squirm, apparently not liking the fact that all attention of her parents was aimed at each other, and let out a hearty wail, making her parents startle and part, laughing, and then her mother scooped her up from her father's arms and let her have her breakfast while her papa watched them with that expression on his face he usually has when he's looking at them, that smile and his eyes glistening slightly, and raised his hand to rest it against mama's arm that cradled her and Agnes finally settled down...

because all was right in her world.

[marias-wonderland]

Elizabeth is exhausted from another solved case and she is found by Raymond asleep in her office. This will prompt Raymond's emotions to come to the surface. Will Elizabeth's words match with her actions?

[minp1072]

The Pact

People! I have started a new fic — “An AU where, every year, a young Raymond Reddington visits Elizabeth Scott on her birthday. Starting with a girlhood crush, Liz develops real feelings for Red, and proposes a marriage pact. But will their pact ever become a reality?”

If it sounds interesting, give it a read?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48133135/chapters/121376176

[sequinsmile-x]

Better

Ordinary.

The way her mother says it makes it sound like poison, like something that was infiltrating her life and tearing it apart from the inside out. An awful, ugly thing instead of the beautiful thing that tied her life together like the finest gold thread.

-x-

Hi friends,

If you haven't seen it, I've been getting more anon hate than usual recently, almost entirely around the fact pregnancy/Emily having a family with Aaron is a common them in my fics and how they hate that I write about it. Instead of just...seeing the tags and moving on they've been sending me anons criticising me for it. This culminated in me getting a message yesterday that sent me into orbit saying I was making Emily 'mediocre' by making her a mother like other 'mediocre' women.

(you can read the anon here if you haven't and want to it is WILD)

Now, whatever your feelings are about fanfic or characterisation of Emily, calling someone mediocre for their choices, implying that wanting whatever they want is bad, is ridiculous behaviour.

I've had a lot of feelings about it all day, and ending up writing this to get it out because that is how I process things.

As always, let me know what you think.

-x-

Warnings: Lots and lots of mommy issues

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

From the moment her mother had suggested it, Emily had wanted to get out of going to lunch. Elizabeth insisted that she came over to the event she was hosting with some of her old friends, claiming the other women hadn’t seen Emily in years and that they wanted to catch up. She’d struggled to come up with a good reason to get out of it, even praying for a case that meant she’d be out of stage, something Aaron had raised an eyebrow at.

“You’re praying someone has killed enough people that the team needs to get involved?” 

She’d rolled her eyes at him and huffed, all too aware that he was right, and she’d kissed his cheek as she left the house just before midday, her gaze lingering on him and the kids as they settled down to play their favourite game. 

Lunch was, overall, boring. It was a reminder of a life she’d left behind, the one she’d been born into where every word was carefully chosen yet most the time people said absolutely nothing at all. Their words meaningless, full of fluff and inflexions that she hated. False interest in each other's lives as they desperately waited for someone to ask about them. 

She barely says anything, slowly eating her salad and humming intermittently so it seems like she’s listening, until one of her mother’s friends, Carol, gets her attention. 

“So, what are you up to these days, Emily? Your Mother says you’re still working for the FBI?” 

Emily nods, “Yeah, I work for the Behavioural Analysis Unit, the BAU. My husband used to as well but he retired when our daughter was born three years ago.” 

It had been Aaron’s decision, a solution he’d come up with when they found out she was pregnant with Hazel. He’d been keen to do it, unmoveable in his insistence, his eyes bright and almost overflowing with desperation, as if this was his second chance to make the right decision for his family. She’d agreed, after some back and forth, a voice in the back of her head telling her she’d be a bad mom if she went back to work when she didn’t strictly need to, something Aaron and her friends had slowly talked her out of over the long nine months of her pregnancy. 

Leaving the FBI herself was something she considered again when she had Oliver only 8 months ago, but once again she’d stayed. Happy with the balance she’d created, the life she’d built around herself that let her be Agent Prentiss, a member of one of the most well respected teams in the FBI, and Emily, a wife and mother. 

“Oh yes,” Carol says, picking up her cup of tea, “You have children.”

“Three,” Emily says, her back straightening at something she picks up in the other woman’s tone, a little too close to judgment for her liking, “Jack, Hazel and Oliver.” 

“Lovely names,” Carol says, “Although I must say I was surprised when Elizabeth told us you’d settled down and had children, it wasn’t that long ago it looked like you’d be following in her footsteps and trailblazing yourself a career.” 

Emily frowns, her teeth clenched as she takes a second to calm herself down, “I do still have a career, I just happen to have children too.” 

“Yes well,” Carol says, waving her hand, “You know what they say - a jack of all trades, a master of none.” 

She scoffs, looking to her mother for support, immediately wondering why she thought she’d find it when Elizabeth avoids eye contact with her, a fake smile painted across her face as she stands up from the dining table, “I’ll go check on dessert.” 

Emily stays behind after the others leave, barely even attempting to be polite as she exchanges goodbyes with them. As soon as it’s just her and her mother she can’t help herself, the question escaping before she can ask herself if she would even get an answer she’d want. 

“Why didn’t you stand up for me when she was saying all those things?” She asks, her arms crossed over her chest as Elizabeth freezes and sighs. 

“I wasn’t going to cause a scene,” she says, standing up to walk over to the small bar cart in the living room, pouring herself a scotch, “And besides, she didn’t say anything rude.” 

Emily laughs, “She didn’t say anything rude? She basically said because I’m working and I’m a mom I’m not doing well at either of those things,” she scoffs and shakes her head, “She may as well have called me mediocre and be done with it.” There’s a pause, a flash of something across her mother’s face that she’s sure she wouldn’t have seen if she wasn’t so good at her job. For a moment, she wishes she wasn’t, that she didn’t feel the drop of her heart into her stomach as her arms fall to her sides, “Wait….do you agree with her?” 

Elizabeth stares at her for a second, as if weighing up her options, and she takes a sip of her drink, “Well, you did love to travel when you were younger, Emily. I always assumed you’d do a job that took you all over the world. It wasn’t until you started dating Aaron I ever thought you’d settle down and have an ordinary life.” 

Ordinary.

The way her mother says it makes it sound like poison, like something that was infiltrating her life and tearing it apart from the inside out. An awful, ugly thing instead of the beautiful thing that tied her life together like the finest gold thread. It was something she never thought she’d have. The house and the husband and the children. The cat that never used the cat flap they had installed, happy to curl up at the end of one of the kid's beds instead of ever venturing outside. The school drop-offs and the PTA meetings and the last-minute rush to the grocery store for ingredients for cooking class when Jack told them about it at the last possible second. It was normal, and ordinary and hers. And it was everything she had fought for. 

It was everything she had died for. 

Emily had let a lot slide over the last few years, let countless comments go about herself and sometimes even Aaron because Elizabeth loved her grandchildren. What she’d lacked in being a mother she made up for as a grandmother. She bought them gifts that they actually liked, she listened to them. On Hazel’s first birthday, she’d crawled into the playhouse they’d bought the little girl, acting so unlike herself that Emily had thought she was seeing things. She was grateful her children had someone else in their lives who loved them, so she put up with the fact her mother had never loved her like that. 

All of that disappears as Elizabeth’s words wash over her. A quiet, almost dull, confession that hangs in the air around them a bitter pill that erases any good nature Emily had for her mother. 

She chuckles humourlessly and shakes her head, turning away to wipe angry tears from her cheeks, “I’ve got to ask, Mother,” she says, turning back to look at her, her hands thrown up in defeat, “Why did you even have me? If you think me having children is so…ordinary, why did you have a kid?” 

Elizabeth sighs, her hands on her hips, “Emily-”

“Was it because it was what was expected? You and Dad weren’t as careful as you should have been? What was it?” She demands, not sure she even wants the answer, the sadness and fury rolling in her gut in a way that makes nausea burn up her throat. The silence they fall into is suffocating. Thick and cloying as it settles in Emily’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. She looks down at the floor, her arms tight over her chest as she presses her lips together, desperately trying to hold herself together, “I have a good life.” 

“I never said you didn’t,” Elizabeth says, “I only said I’d thought you’d make different choices.”

“Do you mean better?” Emily asks, her glare unrelenting, and Elizabeth simply looks away, her silence the only answer Emily needs. 

It seems ridiculous. Absurd in a way that makes her laugh, because she can’t imagine how life could be better. She knows that if she’d made different choices, if she’d taken Clyde up on his offer of a job and a new life she would have enjoyed it. She would have been fulfilled and happy but it would have been different to what she had now. Another life she’d now never know, something she couldn’t compare to the life she did have because it didn’t exist and never had. She had no regrets, could never regret even for a second choosing this over anything else. It was her life. Her beautiful, ordinary, life. 

Anger and sadness and everything in between swell in her gut again, making her stomach roll as she clenches her fists at her sides. The burn of her short nails into her palm is familiar, and for a moment she’s 12 years old standing opposite her mother in her office, her nails digging into her palms as she’s told off for not acting as she should have, for getting grass stains on a skirt that cost more than most people made in a month. She shakes it off, an unsteady breath caught in her chest as she’s brought back to the present, to standing in a room just down the hall from her mother’s office over 30 years older and somehow just as silently crushed as she had been when she was a kid. 

It was a feeling she’d promised herself she’d never inflict on her own children. A mantra that had started years before she had them, when she was just a kid herself with her hand pressed into her lower belly as the medication she’d been given by the doctor started to work. She’d be better. She told herself again and again that one day, when it was right, she’d be a mother and she’d be better. It’s a promise she made Declan when he slept up against her on the nights when Ian wasn’t there, his fear of his father pressed against her neck as he asked her if he was in trouble again. She makes the same promise to Jack when she realises she’s stepped into a maternal role in his life, her relationship with him so tied up in her relationship with Aaron that it feels like it happens overnight. She’d be better. She says it again to Hazel just a few hours after she’s born, and again with Oliver when she holds him for the first time. She’d be better.

She was better. She knew that. Her children ran towards her, not away, when they were sad or hurt or sick. They sought her out, snuck into her embrace at any given moment, slipping under her arm as she sat on the couch and they should already have been in bed. Aaron often joked he could disappear and no one would notice, something she’d always quickly refute, the idea of him not being right by her side enough to make her shudder. 

“Better than what? A man who loves me the way Aaron does? Than my children?” Her voice cracks and she clenches her teeth to try to steady her lower lip, “For the first time my life is normal, Mom. I go to work, I come home. I spend my evenings helping my kids with homework and driving them to recitals. And then I share a glass of wine with my husband because I’m still breastfeeding Ollie and don’t want to risk a whole glass. Then we get into bed and do it all over again the next day. It’s so ordinary it makes me ache sometimes because it’s all I ever wanted when I was growing up,” she growls in frustration when tears slip onto her cheeks and she wipes them away immediately, “My life might be small to you, but to me it’s perfect and I am the happiest I have ever been,” she swallows thickly, pushing down the emotions she refuses to set free until she’s home. Until she’s with her husband - the only person she’d ever truly feel comfortable falling apart in front of. “I’m going home.”

“Emily, there’s no need to be so upset,” Elizabeth says as Emily turns away, an edge of panic in her voice she had only heard a handful of times, “We can talk about this.” 

“No,” she refuses, already turning and walking away, “We can’t. I’m going home.” 

She’s proud of herself for making it to the car before the tears come in earnest, burning hot with fury as they leave what feels like permanent tracks on her skin.

___ 

She can’t bring herself to get out of the car. 

She sits on the driveway, still buckled long after she’s switched off the engine, her hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel. Even though she’s staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the porch that she loves, she doesn’t see the front door open and her husband wander outside. It’s only when he lightly raps on the window, making her jump and pulling her out of her trance, that she realises he’s there. She unlocks the door but makes no other effort to move. He pulls it open and crouches down, his face level with hers. 

“Where are the kids?” She asks, her voice tight even to her own ears, any chance she has of insisting she is fine dead and gone before she can even try. 

“Ollie is napping,” he says, waving the baby monitor he has held in his hand, “Good thing we get reception out here. And Jack is showing Hazel how to play MarioKart.” 

She nods, her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth as she tries to hold herself together, her eyes already burning with tears because of his proximity, “Good.” 

They lapse into silence and he watches her carefully, the tightness to her expression extreme even for an afternoon spent with her mother. He places his hand on her knee and squeezes, “I’m guessing because of your general demeanour, and the fact you’ve been sat out here for almost 20 minutes, that lunch went off without a hitch.”

She laughs. It’s wet and painful as it catches on her ribs, the force of it making tears splash down onto her cheeks and she nods, wiping them away, “Something like that.” 

“Want to talk about it?” He asks, always sure to give her the option, and she nods, “Okay, well let's go sit on the porch,” he says, reaching over her to unbuckle her belt, “I don’t think my knees could take crouching like this much longer.” 

She nods and lets him lead her out of the car, passing him the keys so he can lock it. They sit on the top step leading up to the porch, both of them looking out at the neighbourhood they loved, and he waits her out. Let her figure out what he was going to say, his shoulder pressed against hers as she tries to navigate the emotions swirling through her body, making her dizzy even though she was sitting down.

“She called me ordinary.” 

It’s so left of field, so out of nowhere, it takes him a second to react. His eyebrows furrowing as he turns to look at her, his gaze fixed on her side profile as she continues to look straight ahead, “What?” 

“Mother she…” she clears her throat, “Well one of her friends did first. Said she was surprised I’d settled down and had kids. After she left I made the stupid decision to ask Mom why she didn’t defend me,” she laughs mirthlessly at herself, “I don’t know what I was expecting,” she finally turns to look at him, her eyes briefly meeting his before she hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, “Anyway, turns out she agreed. She thought I’d do more with my life than get married and have kids I guess.”

Angry doesn’t even come close to explaining how he feels. Fury that had once burned the walls of his childhood home, leaving the wallpaper singed and smoke damaged, burning in his lungs. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes in a deep breath, and pushes the anger away for now, knowing it’s not what she needs. 

“She’s wrong.” 

She looks up at him and smiles, shifting so her head is on his shoulder, “I know she’s wrong,” she says, curling her arms around one of his, “I love our life. I love that it’s as normal as it can be with everything we’ve been through. It’s almost extraordinary in how ordinary it is” she sniffs, turning her head to kiss him through his shirt, “If anything, I think I feel bad for her.” 

He frowns, resting his cheek on top of her head, letting her melt into his side, “Oh yeah?”

She hums, “I’m sad she can’t see the beauty in it,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “And that she probably never will.” 

He cups her cheek and leans in to kiss her, his forehead against hers as he pulls back, “That’s her loss,” he says, kissing her again, “I’m sorry, baby. It can’t be nice having your own mother say that.” 

She chuckles and shakes her head, swallowing thickly, “No. It isn’t,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “But I’ll do better than her. I’ll always think our kids are amazing no matter what they do with their lives,” her lips shake and her eyes close, fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks that he wipes away immediately, “I’ll do better.” 

He’s heard her say it before. A whisper against Jack’s forehead after she’d read him a story until he fell asleep. A promise to a newborn Hazel and then Oliver a few years later. He wraps his arms around her, gathers her against his chest as she sinks into him, his lips against her hairline as he replies. 

“You already are, sweetheart,” he says, “You already are.” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess , @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[totothewolff]

The Speed Game of Love

Toto x reader | comedy, crack humor (RuPaul's Drag Race bang), romance, fluff.

Summary: Three fierce queens will race for your love, but only one will win your heart. Could it be the spicy Carla LaTurbo Slayz, the fierce Adore D. Hammer, or the queen of England herself, GiGi Reigns? Or maybe that sexy host could get some! Hosted by the hot and only Toto Wolff. Author's note: It's short and fun. Y/N has the hots for Toto, as usual. Who doesn't?! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts or if you have an idea, here I am."

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

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From the racing capital of the world is The Speed Game of Love.

And here is your host...

The hot and only Toto Wolff.

(Opening music plays, and the camera pans over the bright and sparkling stage. Toto Wolff is standing there in fullness, tallness, and hotness, just a few steps away from you. As you peek in from behind the entrance, he is looking as sexy as you expected that man to be, dressed in a sluty tight suit, his eyes set on you for a brief second making your knees and other regions jiggle as he starts the show).

"Welcome to the Speed Game of Love. I'm your hot, I mean host! Toto Wolff." he winks at you before moving to his mark at the cue.

(Cheers, gaps, and a loud moan come from the sound effect console as Toto passes a hand on his hair and smiles big and bright straight at the pro camera).

"Let's meet tonight's lucky heartracers!" he gestures with both arms to his left.

(Cut to a shot of the competitors, each one dressed in their best sickening drag looks, all sitting in white bar stool chairs next to each other)

"It's the Queen of tracks! And hearts! Adore D. Hammer!" Toto approaches a fierce-looking queen. "Ready to smash some?" Toto raises his eyebrows as he asks.

"Oh, dear, I'm more than keen for some hammer time!" Adore answers, thrusting with her hips slowly.

She's rocking a sparkly, sluty version of the iconic jumpsuit in neon yellow and black from MC Hammer's iconic "U Can't Touch This" music video, but cinched for the gods along with really high-platform sneakers.

The jumpsuit is embellished with rhinestones and sequins that shimmer and shine under the stage lights. Adore's dreadlocks hung loose around her ears but with a glamorous, over-the-top twist.

Her makeup is bold and bright, with bold eyeliner, vibrant eyeshadow, and a shining golden lip. Her skin is glowing with a subtle shimmery highlight that makes her look like she just stepped out of a disco ball.

Toto gives her a chuckle before moving along.

"Next, Carla LaTurbo Slayz!" He strolls to her, mic in hand. "Miss Turbo, I heard you got some horsepower tonight! How are you, honey?"

(After he asks the question, a loud moan is heard as a sound effect).

"I'm 'fuel'-tastic, Toto!" she blows a kiss to the camera and shows some lil' leg.

She's rocking a stunning, one-shoulder gown made from the finest silk in a rich, jewel-toned red that evokes the majestic flamenco dancers of Andalusia. The dress is fitted and figure-hugging, accentuating her curves in all the right places.

Her hair is a masterpiece; a few strategically placed braids and hairpins add a touch of Andalusian flair.

Her eyes are lined with bold, black kohl and smudged with shimmery gold eyeshadow to create a sultry, seductive gaze. Her lips are painted a deep, crimson red. Her accessories are chunky gold jewelry.

"Up next, it's GiGi Reigns. Is Your Highness ready to conquer this race?" Toto turns to her, bowing first.

"Keen to have a smooth pit stop and a great finish!" an old lady's voice with a thick Windsor accent answers.

She is rocking a look that's equal parts regal and ridiculous. She's donning a velvet-trimmed corset and hoop skirt that's so big it requires its own zip code.

The skirt is a riot of colors, with florals and patterns. GiGi's hair is a marvel; think Elizabeth I's famous ruff but on steroids! Her locks are styled in towering curls that resemble a pompadour.

Her makeup is a masterpiece of over-the-top opulence. Layers of foundation, blush, and powder are applied with the precision of the era, but they make her look old, really old, with wrinkles adorning her features.

Her accessories are an array of fake pearls that look like they belong on the Queen herself.

"Let's start your engines! Close that pit wall!" Toto instructs as the obstructing divider slides from the wall. It looks exactly like a pit wall fence but glamorous, all in metallic pink, blocking the view from both sides.  

As you are about to enter the stage, an empty, small white podium is waiting for you.

"Our wag tonight is from (Y/N's City/Country). Meet (Y/N's profession/studies), Y/N, Y/LN!" Toto introduces you as you step in, smiling at him.

"Mmm, you look good!" Toto runs his eyes all over your body as he approaches you and offers a hand to help you step on the podium.

You feel the heat instantly.

"What brings you smoking gear around here? Did your engine overheat?" Toto addresses you, starting to lean closer to you.

"I'm just looking for touch at this point!" you answer, plain and honest.

(Aww noises come from the sound effect panel).

"Uhmmhu!" Toto gets closer to you than his mark on the floor suggests. He gestures to you to articulate more as he stands by your side, slowly sliding a hand down on your back.

How you react to his touch makes him smile naughtily.

In between a nervous giggle, you explain: "I tried the apps and whatnot, but nothing worked, so my friends suggested I come here to speed up the process. You know, to look for something accelerated, fast-paced." You wink at him, gaining confidence, feeling his eyes traveling down your lips and neck.

"Oh, so you like it fast-paced? Who doesn't like to get their flag chequered hard!" Toto keeps your game of innuendos, flirting with you along.

You nod and bite your lip; he arches his eyebrow slightly.

"Then, you came to the right place!" his voice is deep, and he flexes his arm so you can enjoy the view of his muscles as Toto grabs his mic. "So, Y/N, here's how the game works: You ask the heartracers some questions, and they will try to win this lap for your heart with their answers. When the time runs out, you choose who steps into your podium. Are you ready to race?"

"I AM!" you feel pumped up!

(Engine noises are heard in the studio, indicating the start of the lap).

You read one of your cue cards. "Heartracer number one, finish the following sentence: If I was your car to run me on a race, you would leave me (blank...) at the end."

"In desperate need of a new set of wheels. Oh! I would run you relentlessly from one side of the circuit to the other!" Adore answers, jumping on her feet and doing the iconic MC Hammer moves, passing by in front of the other contestants.

You laugh and nod at the excellent answer. "And you, number two?"

"I would leave you revving for more! You would want me to run you down over and over again around these corners." LaTurbo answers with a very sexual voice, sliding her hand all over her body curves.

"And you, madam, number three?" you ask.

"At the finish line... eventually! I'm a lady of a certain age, darling." GiGi Reigns' elderly voice answers, making you and Toto burst into giggles.

"If it was me, I would have you shifting gears so hard that I would end up breaking you down. But that's me!" Toto jokes, inserting his answer there. "Let's move on to the next question, shall we, Y/N?"

"YES! Let me push that pedal all the way in!" you joke back.

"All the way in?!" Toto asks, now curious, in a high-pitched voice. "Fast-paced and all the way in. Taking notes!" He swaps his cue cards around.

"I think that one's hammer is starting to show! Haha," GiGi Reigns adds, inserting herself into the conversation, bumping Adore with her hand, and both of them taking a small peek at Toto's crotch.

"Please, give head, go ahead, I meant!" Toto jokes with you.

"Based on yourself, how would you prefer to be called if you were a fuel brand?" you ask the contestants.

"Piston Pumping, you gotta keep the hammering for miles long!" Adore gives her answer in perfect branding.

"Fuel-in' Around, just kidding," Carla waves her hand.

"The Lube for The Crown, cause at this age, darling, you need some extra help." GiGi slowly spreads open her legs, making rusted noises, cracking you up again.

"I'd be, Fuel Me Maybe, you know, like tonight, after this show," Toto flirts shamelessly as the game progresses, making it clear that he's interested in none other than you.

"Final question," you go ahead. "Imagine you are an F1 team. Sell yourself to me."

"On the Hammerella F1 Team, competition can't touch us! We are faster than you can say parachute pants!" Adore D. Hammer answers.

"On El Toro Racing, we are unleashing the bull full speed, with fury and passion and with a whole lot of rhythm, ahhhh." Carla LaTurbo's every word gets more sexual somehow as she answers your question, her hands going all over her neck and legs.

Finally is GiGi's turn: "On the Motor on the Bus, The Queen's Royal Racing Team, we race round and round, vroom and vroom, all through the town." She pauses before adding, "But with protocol, dear."

GiGi's stupid answer makes you gag.

"Oh, time is up! Y/N, who do you choose from our heartracers? Number one, two or three?" Toto comes near to you again.

Fuck! He smells so good! That's an arousing cologne.

(A dramatic pause comes before you turn straight at him to give your definitive answer).

"You," you point at Toto. "I choose you!" answering aloud to everyone's... actually... to no one's surprise!

"I'd love to take you for some good ol' laps!" he blows a kiss to you. "But first, let's meet the ones you didn't choose! Say hello to Adore D. Hammer."

"Oh! This hammer would have broken you in half, dear!" she jokes with you as she looks you up and passes along, thrusting the air on her way out.

"and Carla LaTurbo Slayz," Toto again shouts, extending his arm.

"This," she closes her hand at you, moving it around your body, "Has red flag all over," she says, belittling you as she goes out, pretending to be insulted by you rejecting her.

"Finally, GiGi Reigns! Madam..." Toto bows one last time.

GiGi takes her time walking there, making grunt noises as she grabs her back, complaining, making you two lose it.

"I, TOO, CAN COMMAND THE WIND, SIR!" She screams out of nowhere in the most Shakespearean voice, catching you two off guard.

Like GiGi got possessed for a second before she composes herself and gives "royal hand waves" politely as she dramatically exits.

"WHHAAT?" you say, catching your breath between laughs.

"Ready to blow my engine?" Toto triumphantly asks, holding you up like a trophy as he wraps his arm around your waist.

"Against the pit wall?!" you joke around, laughing on his lips, standing next to it.

"Another Speed Game of Love with a... happy ending! To me!" Toto winks. "Good night, everybody!"

(You two wave at the lense before you wrap him in a passionate kiss as the camera cuts to black)

You don't make it further than his dressing room.

The audio crew picks up the loud moans and smashing noises coming from there, as Toto is still wired, and they quickly turn off the equipment.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[itsss4t4n]

Who I write for /Rules

Masterlist

I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 19 now and write very rarely) but I really wanna do it again.

So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))

Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.

I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out or somewhat implied stuff tho).

My writing will be mostly pg 13 but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics, and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.

Please be nice and have manners when requesting.

Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders). If its not included I will default it as gender neutral. :)))

I also write poly relationships and AUs.

Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher, love triangles.

(Also english isnt my first language, and even though, in my opinion, i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)

Heartbreak high

Harper Mclean

Quinni Ghallager-Jones

Darren Rivers

Spencer "Spider" White

Anthony "Ant" Vaughn

Malakai Mitchel

Sally face

Sal Fisher

Travis Phelps (male or gn readers)

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campbell

Harry Potter

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Charly Weasley

Bill Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Olliver Wood

Draco Malfoy (+6th year only)

Theodore Nott (+6th year only)

Marauders

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Regulus Black

Evan Rosier

Barty Crouch jr

Pandora Rosier

Lilly Evans

Marlene Mckinnon

Hogwarts Legacy

Sebastian Sallow

Ominus Gaunt

Gareth Weasley

Poppy Sweetings

Imelda Reyes

Die drei fragezeichen / the three investigators

Bob Andrews

Peter Shaw

Justus Jonas

Skinny Norris

Twilight

Jasper Hale

Emmet Cullen

Carlisle Cullen

Esme Cullen

Rosalie Hale

Alice Cullen

Sam Uley

Paul Lahote

Charlie Swan

Leah Clearwater

Jacob Black

Pjo

Let me know if you want book or show

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Luke Castellan

Clarrisse La Rue

Selena Beauregard

Charles Beckendorf

Ethan Nakamura

Nico di Angelo (no romantic fem readers)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Will Solace

Travis Stoll

Connor Stoll

Hazel Levesque (no romantic)

Jason Grace

Leo Valdez

Piper Mclean

Magnus chase

Magnus Chase

Samirah al Abbas ( no romantic)

Alex Fierro

Blitzen

Hearthstone

Mallory Keen

TJ (Thomas Jefferson jr)

MCU (Avengers)

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Sam Wilson

Natasha Romanoff

Yelena Belova

Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)

MJ

Wanda Maximof

Piedro Maximof

Clint Barton

Scott Lang

Stephen Strange

Kate Bishop

MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)

Peter Quill

Daredevil (Season 1)

Matt Murdock

Karen Page

James Wesley

X-men universe

Deadpool

Wolverine

Francis

Xavier

Mystic

Angel

Kurt

Venom

Eddie Brock

DC

Harley Quinn

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson (any version, young justice, robin, nightwing,etc.)

Wally West (youngJustice)

Artemis (young justice)

Roy Harper (young justice)

Disney Descendants

Mal

Evie

Carlos devil

Jay

Benjamin Beast

Chad Charming

Audrey Rose

Jane

Lonnie Fa

Uma

Harry Hook

Gil

Rise of red

James Hook

Hades

Bridget

Ella

Cloe

Red

Morgie

Kingsmen

Eggsy

Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)

Bette Whitlaw

Oren Lennox

Shane Madej (no romantic fem readers)

June Park

Jennifers Body

Jennifer Check

Colin Gray

Ever after high

all characters

Redacted Audios

(no x reader, just ships)

literally all characters

[meetmeatthecoda]

Halcyon by meetmeatthecoda Fandoms: The Blacklist (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Chapters: 7/7 (complete) Words: 117,335 Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen, Raymond Reddington, Agnes Keen, Dembe Zuma, Harold Cooper, Charlene Cooper, Alina Park, Donald Ressler, Aram Mojtabai, various OCs, Lizzington - Freeform, Agnesgate, AU, post-8.22, Fix-it fic, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Angst, Lots of Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, briefly, in the start of chapter 3, and an equally brief discussion of them in chapter 5, some sexual content, Nothing too explicit, and last but not least, no Redarina, no relation at all ever between red & liz, obviously

Summary:

Halcyon - adjective:

denoting a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.

noun:

a tropical Asian and African kingfisher with brightly colored plumage.

a mythical bird said by ancient writers to breed in a nest floating at sea at the winter solstice, charming the wind and waves into calm.

origin:

from Greek alkuōn ‘kingfisher’ (also halkuōn, by association with hals ‘sea’ and kuōn ‘conceiving’).

An AU post-8.22 fix-it fic, wherein Liz survives her shooting - unbeknownst to everyone - & flees the country in an effort to protect those dear to her, living a solitary, lonely existence on a loch in Scotland & coping with the only outlet she has, a hobby begun as a coping mechanism during a traumatic childhood & kept since then as a closely-guarded secret: art.

“As with all things in her life, it was born from fire.”

☕️ Buy Me a Coffee ☕️

🎶 Playlist below the cut! 🎶

Meant To Be by Ber & Charlie Oriain

Rockland by Gracie Abrams

Walking On The Moon by Ruelle

graves by Purity Ring

32 Floors by Lapsley

Rolling Like a Ball by Ludovico Einaudi

Brush Fire by Gracie Abrams

Much Too Much by Lennon Stella

You Hold Me Up by The Bones of J.R. Jones

As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese (cover by Sarah Cothran)

Men On The Moon by Chelsea Cutler

you broke me first by Tate McRae

Games by Lennon Stella

Save Us by Lennon Stella

Takeaway by The Chainsmokers, ILLENIUM feat. Lennon Stella

Best by Gracie Abrams

Where do we go now? by Gracie Abrams

Amelie by Gracie Abrams

85mm by Ludovico Einaudi

ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine

Through the Eyes of a Child by AURORA

Edge of the Dark by Emmit Fenn

Blinded by Emmit Fenn

Memories by Emmit Fenn

Spectrum by Andrew Belle

I Can’t Believe I Had You by Emmit Fenn

Far from Here by Emmit Fenn

In Between Breaths by SYML

Two people by Gracie Abrams

[zielenna]

3, 13, and 22 for the book ask :)

hi! :)

3. What were your top five books of the year?

In order in which I read them --

Craig Perez Santos's from unincorporated territory: [Saina], a volume of poetry from a longer series centering on Santos's native Guam. I read this for a class alongside a chapter from Santos's academic book, Navigating CHamoru Poetry: Indigeneity, Aesthetics, and Decolonization. I am not great with contemporary poetry, but this was by far my favorite. (A book I didn't finish, but also enjoyed reading for that class was John Keene's collection of stories, Counternarratives, marginal entries – fabulations? – into the history of the Americas from the seventeenth century to the present).

Robert Glück's Margery Kempe might be my favorite thing I read this year – partly a retelling of the history of Margery Kempe (a fourteenth-century English lay woman and mystic – and an absolute icon), partly a memoir of the narrator's relationship with a younger man named L. The narrator’s desire for L. is parallel to Margery's desire for Jesus, and throughout it all, there is Glück's desire to make present the distant past. I really loved the sensory detail of this; it felt appropriate – one line from Margery Kempe's real book that I still remember after reading it in 2017, is Christ reassuring her that she is so obedient to his will that she "cleaves as close to him as a skin of a stockfish cleaves to man's hand when it is boiled."

Herman Melville's Billy Budd, to the surprise of no one. The period of the summer when I read it feels like a blur, but reading Melville always feels like a pleasure: it's beautiful, and deranged in a deeply relatable way.

Lauren Berlant's Desire/Love turned out to be a great book to have on a short trip. It is very short and very clear. The part on desire is a very (I know I am repeating myself, but this bears stressing!) lucid synthesis of psychoanalytic explanations of desire, and the part on love focuses on love as a form - a theatrical structure, translated into social and literary forms. I kept going back to this book later this year, reading the reviews of the newest Rooney, and Austen for my class in the fall. Also, with apologies to Berlant, I think that it makes for a good lens for thinking about fic, which is where I interact with the genre of romance most often.

I don't have a strong pick for the fifth favorite book, so I will follow the recency bias and go with the very last book I read, which was Elizabeth Wein's Winter Prince, a 90s Arthurian novel focusing on Mordred (Arthur's illegitimate son with his aunt – following the "canon," such as it is), and his uneasy relationship with Arthur's legitimate children / his step-siblings (invented by the author). I was planning for this to be my comfort (well) nostalgic reading for the holidays & it was exactly what I wanted. I liked the setting - post-Roman Britain, full of increasingly alien ruins (reminded me of Rosemary Sutcliff, another source of comfort reads for me), and how grounded everything felt; and the style - deceptively simple. I mean, it is a young adult novel, but it takes on quite a lot, and handles it with surprising deftness.

Keeping the rest under the cut:

13. What were your least favorite books of the year?

Well. I do try and for the most part manage to avoid books I don't think I'll like (since I read so few), but. Again, in the order of reading --

I didn't like Shehan Karunatilaka's The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida as much as I hoped I would. Many (too many?) cool concepts, but they don't feel lived through. A book designed for book clubs.

Pulling from my classes again, Charlie Samuelson's Courtly and Queer: Deconstruction, Desire, and Medieval French Literature, is an example of the annoying academic tendency to make the term "queer" so "capacious" that it no longer means anything (turns out that any instance of irony, deconstruction, or just intertextuality can be queer). As a class we concluded that we'd be rather reading Carolyn Dinshaw instead.

Elizabeth Mavor's A Green Equinox was an enjoyable read, and doesn't entirely deserve to be on this list, but it was a book I disagreed with: after all the fun, it ends with a celebration of quasi-mystical stewardship over the Land as performed by the British upper classes. (I thought I might be exaggerating, but I just opened it on the last chapter and: "‘Do you think Zeus felt like this when he restored the world after Deucalion’s blood?’ I said he thought they must have" -- this is about restoring a vandalized garden on a National Trust estate).

Charlie Markbreiter's Gossip Girl Fanfic Novella was utterly forgettable. I picked it up for easy reading before bed, and because I am interested in texts engaging with fandom (and Y/N, which I read last year, was great!), but this never went anywhere. There's one funny scene where Nate Archibald (trans) has a breakdown and communicates with the ghost of Lauren Berlant about this – but as I type this I am realizing that this scene, and the whole book, could've been a tweet.

For the fifth book – well, I DNF'd after about fifteen pages, but Allen Bratton's Henry, Henry, the modern AU of Shakespeare's Henriad was a let-down. I didn't expect great, but I was hoping it'd be fun at least – and it felt forced.

22. What’s the longest book you read?

Hm, I'm not sure. By the number of pages, it would be the edition of the Roman de la Rose I read for class, 21,500 something lines of Old French poetry with a modern French translation, coming up to 1100 pages. But by word count, it might be a theoretical history of Poland I read over the summer, Jan Sowa's The King’s Phantom Body. A Peripheral Struggle with Modern Form, which was about 600 pages. And in terms of the time it took me to read it, it was definitely Fredric Jameson's Years of Theory: Postwar French Thought to the Present, which was more readable than it sounds as it was based on the graduate seminar he gave at Duke – but it still took me a month and a half to finish.

Thanks for asking!

[manyfandomocs]

Riverdale OC Masterlist

Name: Annalise Ryan

Fic: Bubblegum Bitch

Love Interest: Toni Topaz

FC: Mimi Keene

Name: Atticus Bardot

Fic: Aftershocks

Love Interest: Jughead Jones (Santiago Lodge in the best verse)

FC: Nicholas Galitzine

Name: Belladonna Callow

Fic: Daughter of Silent

Love Interest: Cheryl Blossom & Toni Topaz

FC: Dove Cameron

Name: Delilah Curdle

Fic: These Violent Delights

Love Interest: Poly Teen Serpents

FC: Kat Dennings

Name: Derek Wallis

Fic: Price We Pay (To Feel)

Love Interest: Reggie Mantle

FC: Gregg Sulkin

Name: Francesca Jones

Fic: Apathy

Love Interest: Sweet Pea, Reggie Mantle, Veronica Lodge endgame (maybe also Archie Andrews)

FC: Sofia Black-D'Elia

Name: Genevieve Sterling

Fic: Sterling Silver

Love Interest: Hiram Lodge, eventual FP Jones

FC: Elizabeth Gillies

Name: Katherine Keller

Fic: Kids In America

Love Interest: FP Jones

FC: Neve Campbell (older) Kaia Gerber (younger)

Name: Lila Hampton

Fic: Drama in the Futile

Love Interest: Archie Andrews, Sweet Pea & Fangs Fogarty

FC: Peyton List

Name: Lorelai Cooper

Fic: All The Lonely People

Love Interest: Sweet Pea

FC: Taylor Momsen

Name: Quentin Bates

Fic: Song Inside of Me

Love Interest: Toni Topaz

FC: Joshua Bassett

[bg-sparrow]

Chapter Three: Shady Business

“This doesn’t work if it’s strictly professional because it isn’t,” Liz said. “If we’re honest now, the rest comes naturally.”

Rating: M || Genre: Romance, Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort || Summary: Reddington's latest Blacklister is the face of a successful cruise line — and a former competitor in the luxury goods smuggling business. To obtain Albert Sconce's ledger, Liz and Ressler will have to go undercover as newlywed, prospective clients for an extended cruise on Sconce's newest ship. As they blur the lines they'd otherwise never cross, danger unfolds at every turn, threatening to sink their op and take them down with it.

[ace-of-spaders]

I've got a Blacklist S10 finale Lizzington fix-it in the works but I want to write some quick oneshots too to hype myself up as well as get back in the feel of the characters, so if you would be so kind and go over these prompt lists or my tag 'prompt list' and send in a prompt or ten for a Lizzington ficlet (seriously, I love prompts, and when I say 'love' I mean ❤LOVE🥰 so I'll be all too happy if you send more than one prompt!), I would be much grateful! 🙏

[minp1072]

Something Like Aching

This is it — the conclusion and the end of this fic. It has been literally years, and I can only thank everyone who read and talked and reblogged and supported me for so long. I hope it’s a good ending:)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074126/chapters/119688169 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13353034/19/Something-Like-Aching

[sequinsmile-x]

The View Between Villages

A feeling he hasn't had in years, since this place was nothing but a dot in his rearview mirror, settles low in his gut, slowly getting heavier the closer they get. A weight he'd forgotten, all of the people and places he once knew rising from the dead and chasing him down a street he used to call home.

Sometimes, you have no choice but to go back.

-x-

Hi friends!

This is part 1 of 2 of a fic based on a request I got a while back about a fic where Aaron's father was still alive.

The title is a song from Noah Kahan's album Stick Season, which, if you want to listen to an entire album about how going back home is never quite the same as when you were a kid and also EXACTLY the same all at the same time, I highly recommend it. I'm obsessed and am seeing him in November! (Listen to the deluxe version!!)

Part 2 will be up next week!

-x-

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Implied/Referenced child abuse, difficult childhood

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Aaron smiles as he approaches the kitchen, the sound of his family loud as it echoes around his house. The morning light filters down the hallways, fainter than it had been at this time of day just a few weeks ago, a sign that fall was well and truly on its way. 

Their home was rarely quiet. It hadn’t been since they’d bought the place. He still remembered Jack running through empty rooms the first time they brought him here, the sound of his footsteps chasing him as he ran from room to room. Emily had lagged behind, one hand pressed into her aching back and the other into her rounded belly, almost permanently winded as their son grew underneath her skin, stretching it almost to its limit. They’d managed, through no small miracle and a lot of help from the team, to get all of the furniture moved in and in its place before she went into labour. The house truly a home by the time they brought their newborn home, Nathaniel’s cries loud and relentless in those first few weeks of parenthood, the soundtrack they had as they settled into their new lives.

In the three years since then, things had only become more hectic. Nathaniel, Nate as he was known to everyone except Elizabeth who insisted on using his full name, was insistent on copying Jack in everything. Following his brother around the house and joining in with his activities when he could. So much so they had to keep a very close eye on him when they went to Jack’s soccer games ever since he’d run onto the pitch in the middle of a game. In the last year their youngest son, the addition to their family that had been a surprise and filled a gap they hadn’t known had existed, had joined them too. Leo was 11 months old and obsessed with Emily, keen to be wherever she was at all times, something that had started the second he was born. Screaming and crying until he was passed into Emily’s shaking hands, only calming when he was laid against her bare skin. 

It still blew Aaron away sometimes that this was his life, that he’d got this second chance at the family he’d never truly had growing up. He spent years telling himself he’d blown his only chance, that his penance for not saving Haley from the monster he’d brought into their lives was to be alone. To raise Jack as best he could, but doomed to break his final promise to Haley like he had so many others, feeling wholly unable to be the person she had once known.

Then Emily happened. Beautiful, kind, Emily who had been there all along. She understood him in ways other people couldn’t, completely free of judgement when he had bad days because she did too. Their histories different but intertwined, forever sewn together in a way that he’d realised was impossible to unpick. She’d made the first move, something she still teased him about even now. She’d rolled her eyes and pulled him in for a kiss, breathlessly commenting afterwards that she’d got bored of waiting for him to admit he was in love with her. 

They’d never looked back. Together they’d built what they had now - a family that they both protected fiercely. Three little boys who knew nothing but love, their childhoods so different to those of their parents, none of the violence or chronic disappointment neither he or Emily had faced respectively. They made sure Jack had space to talk about the things he had seen when he was too young to comprehend them and, whilst he’d long called Emily ‘mom’, Haley was a big part of their lives. Her presence felt on every holiday and birthday when Aaron or Jess, the only ones who had true memories of her, would share a story about her. 

He smiles as he walks into the kitchen, met by the sight of Jack and Nathaniel sitting and eating breakfast and Emily switching between taking bites of her toast and spooning Leo oatmeal as he sits on her hip, his hands tight in her shirt.

“Morning,” Aaron says, a greeting immediately returned by his family. A chorus of mismatched responses that makes him smile. He walks over to Emily, pressing a kiss to her lips as she turns to look at him, a tired smile on her face, “You must have been up early, the bed was cold.”

She hums as she tilts her head towards their youngest, getting another spoon of, now cold, oatmeal into Leo’s mouth, “Your youngest woke me up at 4 am,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him, “I tried to get him settled in our bed but he wasn’t having it so I got ready for the day and brought him down here. Before I knew it, it was breakfast time.”

“Breakfast!” Nathaniel says enthusiastically, drawing their attention towards him, both of them smiling at him. He’d inherited a lot from Aaron, including his love of early mornings. 

“Eat your toast, sweet boy we’ve got to get you ready for preschool,” Emily says, trying to suppress a yawn.

Aaron kisses her cheek and walks over to the coffee machine to switch it on, “You could have woken me up, sweetheart.” 

“It’s okay,” she says, adjusting her hold on Leo as she pours more juice into Jack’s cup, “You’re still catching up on sleep from the case you got back from a few days ago.” 

He’d been away for close to a week, the longest it had been in quite some time, and he didn’t think he’d ever felt relief as he did walking into his house to find his wife waiting for him. He hums and takes Leo from her, settling him onto his own hip as he takes over helping him with his breakfast so Emily could have a few minutes to eat her food in relative peace. 

“Well,” he quips, winking at his wife when he looks back at her, “My boss is a bit of a taskmaster.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and purposely hip-checks him as she walks to the coffee machine to pour them a mug each, “I have it under good authority you’re her favourite.” 

When she left the BAU just before she had Nathaniel she never anticipated that in just a few short years she’d be Section Chief. After her return from maternity leave, she’d taken over the counterterrorism Unit Chief position. Her experience in the FBI and at Interpol made her a perfect candidate for a job that allowed her more time with her sons. When she was pregnant with Leo, the job of Section Chief became available and she was offered it. At first, she’d worried about what Aaron would say, if he’d be irritated that she was promoted over him, but he’d only ever shown pride at her getting the job. Happy to watch her flourish and pleased he could be by her side as it happened. 

“She is always keen to give me feedback-”

“Mom and Dad are being gross again, Nate,” Jack says, stage whispering so they can hear him, making them stop their conversation. 

Emily presses her lips together as she looks at her eldest, a look on his face that Aaron would always say the pre-teen never had before she moved in, “Sorry, Jack.” 

Aaron chuckles as he shakes his head and hears his phone ring from his pocket. He hands Leo back over to Emily, the little boy babbling a word that was so close to Mama it made her chest ache. 

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, answering the phone, taking a step away from his family so the boys don’t hear anything they shouldn’t. 

“Sorry, Sir, I’ve got another one for you,” Penelope says, sounding regretful, “Three bodies and a fourth person missing, the locals have requested that the team get there as soon as possible.” 

“Have you called the others?” He asks, and she hums in confirmation, “Okay great, let's just meet at the jet.” 

“Thankfully it will be a short flight, you’re only going to Lexington, Virginia” 

He pauses, frozen in space as the air leaves his lungs. He clears his throat, unknowingly getting his wife’s attention from across the room, “Lexington?” 

“Yes, sir,” Penelope says, “At first I thought you’d have to drive but there is an airstrip nearby, and the jet already has permission to land there.”

He doesn’t listen as she rambles, the room seemingly closing in on him as everything feels too close and too far away all at once. It had been years, a lifetime really, since he’d been there. He’d been a kid, not looking back as the first place he’d called home was left behind him, getting further and further away as Haley sat next to him, both of their suitcases in the trunk of his worn-out truck that somehow made the drive all the way to Harvard. 

He’d never gone back. The version of him who had lived there dead and gone, buried beneath everything he hadn’t been able to move past, and all the things that had happened to him since. 

“Sir?”

He shakes his head at himself, “Sorry, Garcia. Yes - thank you. I’ll speak to you on the jet when we need to be briefed.”

He hangs up and looks at his wife who is looking at him curiously, a hint of concern shining in her eyes. 

“Everything okay?” She asks, glancing at Nathaniel and Jack before she walks over, Leo still on her hip, his head against her shoulder. 

“Yeah,” he replies, not sure he sounds convincing to himself let alone her, “Just another case.” 

She stares at him, well aware that he is holding something back, but she doesn’t pry. Not when all the boys were in earshot. She simply files it away, ready to ask him about it later when they speak on the phone. 

“The bad guys don’t wait I guess,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, exchanging a smile when he squeezes her hip and kisses Leo’s head. She turns, “Boys, come say goodbye to Dad, he’s got to go to work.” 

She keeps a close eye on him as he exchanges goodbyes with their sons, something about the way he embraces them seeming even fiercer than usual, something about the way he kisses her more desperate. 

She sighs as she watches him leave, his promise to call that evening echoing around her after the door closes. She blows out a breath as she turns back to Jack and Nathaniel, printing a smile on her face she knows they won’t see through, worry for her husband vibrating under her skin.

“Come on, we need to get ready for school.” 

She casts another glance back towards the front door before she herds her children upstairs, the first seeds of concern truly planting deep in her gut.

___

Emily groans as she sits in her desk chair, rolling her neck as she looks at the piles of paperwork on her desk. 

For someone who hated politics, but was damn good at it, she’d sure ended up in a job that had a lot of it. 

It was the best thing for her family. It meant she got more time with her children, that she was in as close to a 9-5 job as she ever had been in, but she still felt as if she was making a difference. It was a bridge of sorts. A link between the life she never thought she’d have - children, a home, a loving partner, - and the one she wondered she’d ever escape. 

Her eyes flick to a bright pink post-it note, Penelope’s familiar flowing handwriting on it, the glittery ink of her favourite pen shining out at her. Emily picks it up, and her smile fades as she reads it, her heart dropping into her stomach. 

BAU in Lexington, VA. Hotel bookings in your pending approvals. 

Emily holds onto the post-it tighter than necessary, the thick paper creasing in her grasp as she closes her eyes and shakes her head. 

That stupid, stubborn, man. 

She makes a decision in a heartbeat, not thinking twice before she picks up her phone and dials a familiar number, waiting as the call connects, “Jess? Hi, I have…a big favour to ask.” 

It was a good thing she still kept a go-bag packed just in case.

___

“Why are we still on the tarmac?” Derek asks, leaning back in his chair as he turns to look at the door, “They haven’t even closed us up yet.”

“The pilot said there are some final checks,” Aaron replies, his eyes fixed on the case files in front of him, desperate to focus on something other than the fact he was about to go to the place where he swore he’d never return. 

The place where his father lived. 

He’d told so many people that his dad was dead, the lie easier than the truth, that there were times he believed it himself. So used to his life without the man who was supposed to have loved him that he couldn’t imagine seeing him again. 

“Are we sure this place Lexington has a legit landing strip?” Dave asks, a familiar smirk on his face when Aaron briefly looks up at him.

“It does,” he replies firmly, shaking off the memory of the mostly abandoned strip of private land. How he’d snuck Haley there one night when she’d insisted on learning to drive in his truck, laughing from the passenger seat as she ruined the manual engine. Stalling every few feet on what used to be a busy runway used for goods. 

“And don’t say legit,” a familiar voice says, pulling all of their attention towards her, Emily’s smile wide as she stands behind Dave, her arm resting on the top of his chair, “You’re too old for that.” 

“Emily,” Aaron says, standing up as if on autopilot, taking her bag from her, a habit he’d never quite shaken since she’d been pregnant with Leo, “What are you doing here?”

She shrugs, attempting to remain casual, “It’s been a while since I came on a case, and my schedule looked okay this week so I thought, why not? It’s almost time for the BAU to be reviewed anyway.”

The others seemingly buy it, even if he doesn’t, well aware that last night she’d lamented about the number of meetings she had this week. She sits in the spare seat next to Dave and ignores how her husband is looking at her. 

“It will be just like old times,” JJ says, her smile turning into a smirk as she elbows Spencer, “Shall we draw straws on who gets the room closest to them?” 

Emily narrows her eyes at her friend, “We aren’t that bad.”

“Sure, Bella,” Dave says, patting her on the shoulder, a condescending tone to his voice, “I’ve got a leather chair in my home office that will never quite be the same because of you two.” 

“Isn’t this the first time you’ve spent a night away from Leo?” Spencer asks, his eyebrows knitting together, and she blows out a breath. Familiar guilt building in her chest. The pull between being a good wife and a good mother felt like it was taking her in different directions for the first time ever. 

“Yes,” she replies, exchanging a knowing look with JJ, “But it had to happen at some point.” The sound of the door closing cuts the conversation off and she reaches for the iPad closest to her, “Okay then, bring me up to speed,” her eyes flick to her husband, “It’s a short flight.” 

They get a moment alone in the kitchenette. He follows her in there the second she says she’s grabbing a cup of tea. She expects it, her smile tight as she turns to look at him, the curtain he pulls shut after him a flimsy attempt at privacy. 

“Em-”

“You really didn’t think I’d find out where you’re going?” She asks quietly, stepping forward, her arms crossed over her chest, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “It’s not a big deal-”

“Not a big deal,” she interrupts, cutting off his lie before he can finish it. She steps closer so only he can hear her, not wanting her words to be heard over the din of the engine, “Aaron, we are going to your hometown. To the place where your father lives. I’m not going to let you do that alone.” 

He leans against the counter, closing his eyes as he shakes his head, “This is an abuse of power, you know that right?” 

She shrugs her shoulders, “I like to think of it as a wife manipulating the system so she can look after her boneheaded husband, but you can call it that if you want.” 

He smiles, a brief chuckle escaping him as he reaches out for her hand and squeezes it, “The kids-”

“Are fine for a couple of days. As soon as I told Jessica where you were going she volunteered before I could ask her to look after them.”

He sighs and nods. It had been Jessica’s hometown too. His decision to leave had caused a small exodus. Haley went with him and Jessica followed when it was her turn to graduate, eventually ending up in DC with them. Roy had followed suit, nothing left for him in their town other than his wife’s grave, and they’d all found a new place to call home. 

“And you’re sure you’re okay away from them?” He asks, knowing she was capable but that a big driver of her decision to change jobs had been so she didn’t have to do this, so she could be there for their children in a way her mother had never been for her. “Reid is right, you’ve never been away from Leo before overnight.” 

She squeezes his hand, “It will be fine,” she replies, ignoring how her voice shakes a little, “He’ll be perfectly safe with Jess,” she reaches out and runs her fingers through his hair, “I’m more worried about my biggest, and most stubborn, Hotchner right now.”

He smiles and grabs her hand as she lowers it, lifting it to his lips to kiss her knuckles, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Lovebirds,” Derek calls from the other side of the curtain, the levity in his voice seeming misplaced amongst their emotions in the tiny bit of comfort they’d quickly cultivated, “We’re about to start the descent.” 

They exchange a tight smile and she squeezes his hand one more time before she drops it and they head back into the main cabin. 

Once they land and drive the short distance to the town centre where the police precinct is, roads he once knew like the back of his hand, it feels harder to breathe with every passing mile.

A feeling he hasn't had in years, since this place was nothing but a dot in his rearview mirror, settles low in his gut, slowly getting heavier the closer they get. A weight he'd forgotten, all of the people and places he once knew rising from the dead and chasing him down a street he used to call home. 

-x-

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[boleynqueenes]

For the dvd commentary meme…the first five hundred words of Nowe Thus 👀

Hm...well, that's really more the intro/prologue than anything else (honestly, why didn't I start just in the midst of the action?). I guess I was trying to establish Anne as a player with a keen political intelligence that was also personally invested (which she acknowledges...'I am rather partial') in the outcome of the GM. And I was also trying to establish how her opinions of these people she's never met (such as HVII) have been formed by her experiences and insights of him from other figures (Princess Mary, his daughter, although uhm...it seems she didn't actually attend her in France which I didn't find out until later...whoops...might have to retcon that into conversations Anne's merely overheard in KOA's household, as Mary was a frequent feature and visitor, Henry Percy, not as explicitly but by and about HVIII as well obviously, Wolsey, et al). I do this with other figures later in the fic as well, both hers and her parents' opinions of Elizabeth Wydeville, and Wolsey, what she's heard about Perkin Warbeck from various quarters ('some uncourageous man of puckish pretense', i heart alliteration), etc...

Also just an acknowledgement of potential AUs to break the fourth wall in what is about to be a literal AU, I'm quirky like that:

"If you were not here, what would you think?" "Where else would I be?" she asks archly. Still smarting at Hever, traipsing through the fens of Ireland, freezing in Northumberland— "Lille, Guisnes, Mechelen," he lists, high tone glittering with playfulness, "Château Amboise—" "Oh, if I were still there?"