Unlosts - Journeys End At Lovers Meeting - Tumblr Blog

Adenorah

thank you for reading!! it started as a full on Spencer fic and the Hotch showed up and I'm only human 🫰

two slow dancers, last ones out

Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.

2k words

The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense. 

Not that you were bitter about it. 

At all. 

Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will. 

The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ. 

Again, not that you were bitter about it. 

After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted. 

And you had come to terms with it. 

Really. 

The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination. 

The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time. 

It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay. 

With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from  your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine. 

The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets. 

He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden. 

But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.  

“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless. 

An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently. 

“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes. 

“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow. 

“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”

“Huh, go figure”

“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point. 

“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table. 

Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate. 

“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like. 

“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”

“Even you?” 

He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter. 

“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it” 

“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about. 

“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away” 

“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that. 

“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off. 

“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”

“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?” 

“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team. 

He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. 

“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away. 

“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?” 

“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here. 

“Yeah”

“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”

“Yeah” 

After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly

“I would have wanted to”

He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway. 

You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place. 

You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.

“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now” 

“It’s not that easy” 

“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is” 

He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him. 

“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever” 

He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist

“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again” 

“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you” 

“Momentary lapse in judgment”  You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?” 

“...Yes”   Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying. 

 You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you. 

From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is. 

“What about you?” 

“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays. 

“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have

“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever” 

“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper. 

“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room” 

“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”

“Could be” You concede. 

Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.

From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles.  You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that. 

as a fun writing exercise I'm going to take a random prompt list put a timer and try to do short 500-800 word drabble and just post them as is?

two slow dancers, last ones out

Summary: Unrequited love and a wedding are not a good match, but a luckily you have someone there to keep you company.

2k words

The wedding fell into place like a house of cards tumbling down, in a rush and without much fanfare. JJs dress was lovely, because of course it was, a sea of ivory white twinkling almost as bright as her smile against the placid night air. Everyone was able to make it and despite it being planned with just a few hours to spare the night was as beautiful as one would hope. Beginning of spring ushering a new chapter and all that nonsense. 

Not that you were bitter about it. 

At all. 

Or at the very least you were trying really hard not to be, because they were a lovely couple. Will loved JJ, and JJ loved Will. 

The issue was that Spencer also seemed to love JJ. 

Again, not that you were bitter about it. 

After months of quiet pinning and frustrated yet unreciprocated glances you had called it quits, because it seemed like no matter how many 18th century poetry readings you attended with him, no matter how many early morning car rides or late nights spent talking in hushed tones side by side on the plane, you were simply never going to be the one he wanted. 

And you had come to terms with it. 

Really. 

The fresh heartbreak had been ushered out and been replaced by humiliation a long time ago, looking back you were sure everyone could tell how stupidly in love you had been and how utterly un-reciprocated it was. Every time you remembered how optimistic and doe eyed you had been about the whole thing, something bright and hot burned in the back of your eyes. It was all just so painfully juvenile and you swore you had left the doe eyes behind alongside your cheer uniform and locker combination. 

The night had an air of finality to it, you knew that in one way or another nothing would be the same again, and you didn’t want to miss it. Even if it meant swallowing your pride and staying with the wallflowers until closing time. 

It would have been easier to do an irish goodbye to the italian planned wedding and slip quietly out the front door but you saw Emily sharing a last dance with Derek and even spied Rossi watching over his hard word with suspiciously misty eyes and you knew you had to stay. 

With one hand wrapped over your midriff and the other held aloft, nursing a now lukewarm aperol spritz by the side of the dance floor, looking at everyone swaying to some old jazz ballad, the singer's soft crooning voice setting your teeth on edge. The feel of a drop of condensation traveling from  your hand through your forearm sending a chill down your spine. 

The gentle weight of a black jacket being draped over your shoulders snaps you out of your pathetic melancholy, the wedding suddenly snapping into sharp focus as the heady scent of a woody cologne blankets you. Two big hands softly squeeze your shoulders in a silent apology before Aaron Hotchner appears next to you, leaning against one of the white columns with his hands in his pockets. 

He scrutinizes you with clever brown eyes, his gaze softly traveling from your pursed lips to your down-turned brows and you know he’s got your number when he gives you a soft sympathetic smile. Just a quick turn of his lips that few people would catch, but you did, and the knowledge that he knows exactly what’s going on through your head makes you feel exposed all of the sudden, you slip your arms into the jack and clutch it to you like it could keep you hidden. 

But Hotch is … Hotch simply put and you know above all he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. So he remains quiet next to you, only moving to press his side against you in silent comradery, the comforting heat radiating off of him seeping into you.  

“Want me to get you another one?” He asks, gesturing to your long forgotten drink. “It’s not often we get to free reign of Dave’s stash” You know he’s trying to cheer you up and you both know it’s failing miserably but you still appreciate the effort nonetheless. 

An awkward sort of silence falls between you both until you decide to ruin it, apparently. 

“So, where’s Beth?” Your question catches him off guard, he clears his throat and looks down for a second before catching your eyes. 

“We broke up, last week actually” He states matter of fact. You nod understandingly and don’t ask but he clarifies anyhow. 

“It was mutual, she had a lot going on at work-”

“Huh, go figure”

“and I was” he hesitates “preoccupied” He doesn’t seem to be distraught, telling you like he would the details of a case, objective and to the point. 

“Ahh, so you decided to join the singles corner, welcome we meet every Thursday” You raise your glass in a mock toast before finally putting it down on a nearby table. 

Hotch raises his eyebrows and it’s all it takes for you to deflate. 

“Sorry, you were being nice and I was just bitchy” You sigh, frustrated and maybe a little bit tipsier than you’d like. 

“That’s okay, you’re sad, it happens to the best of us”

“Even you?” 

He just lets out a self deprecating laugh before handing you a glass of scotch from a passing waiter. 

“You saw me after the divorce, I distinctly remember going into a burning house so I would say a couple of drinks more than you’re used to at a wedding of all places isn’t the worst way to go about it” 

“That’s different, you were married this is just…pathetic” There was no point dancing around it anyway, you both knew he was fully aware of what you were talking about. 

“Well someone once told me that as much as we’d like to, sometimes we have to sit in those feelings before they can go away” 

“What a load of new age shit, whoever told you that was a quack” You smile at him anyway, pleased that even after all this time he remembered that. 

“Hmm, I happen to think it was useful,” Hotch replies, taking the scotch from your hand and finishing it off. 

“Any more pearls of wisdom this oh so sage one imparted upon you?”

“Yes, other times the only thing you can do is pretend that everything is alright for a couple of minutes” He says, extending his hand towards you and gesturing towards the dance floor “what do you say?” 

“You should stop listening to her” You reply but still accept, his hand engulfing yours as he expertly leads you through a sea of couples until you’re far enough that you can’t really see anyone else from your team. 

He takes you into his arms, one goes to your back and the other takes you hand into his ,you're still wearing his jacket so you just rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. 

“...so” You say softly, your words muffled against his shirt. With your eyes closed and your head resting against his chest, you’ve given up dancing and are just content to be cocooned in his arms while he gently sways you both to the tune of the music. Whatever is playing now has long faded to the edge of your conscience, sounding far away. 

“Have you ever considered doing all of this again?” 

“Getting married?” This close together his voice reverberates pleasantly through your whole body, it feels as if you’ve both stepped into someone else’s wedding and you know each other here. 

“Yeah”

“What, you had your turn in the hot seat and now it’s my turn?”

“Yeah” 

After a beat he says admits it so softly that you have to strain to hear him properly

“I would have wanted to”

He had long ago decided to settle for the life he had, being a father had to come first, the rest was something he no longer got to want. Or something he wouldn’t admit he still wanted anyway. 

You raise your head briefly to look up at him, his tone sobering you up, because you know him, know what he meant. If you had looked just behind Hotch towards the other edge of the dance floor you would have caught Spencer's inquisitive gaze or Penelopes’ delighted one. But you don’t, you’re laser focused on Hotch searching in his eyes for something you can’t quite grasp, a way to convey that he needs to stop atoning for something he shouldn’t fault himself for in the first place. 

You fist your hands on the front of his shirt briefly before smoothing out the wrinkles with your palms.

“I didn’t ask about before, I’m asking about you now” 

“It’s not that easy” 

“It’s a yes or no question, so yes it actually is” 

He tilts his head back in frustration, looking up at the night sky like he’ll find the exact words he wants to use spelled for him. 

“That’s not something I get to want anymore” “You can’t punish yourself forever” 

He begins to say something but you cut him off before he can, his hands tightening around your waist

“Nor should you try” He gulps and looks away giving in “think whatever you want to think but I know you and I think you deserve to be happy again” 

“I thought you said I shouldn’t listen to you” 

“Momentary lapse in judgment”  You reply with a teasing smile, not wanting to fully fuck up his night “so?” 

“...Yes”   Somehow the admission of desire feels like a betrayal and a confession at the same time. Both freeing and terrifying. 

 You go back to swaying together, in sync with one another and standing out against the livelier rhythm of the couples around you. 

From this vantage point you study his profile, from his strong nose to his thick lashes and back to his jaw. You never really paid attention to him but right now under the tea lights it dawns on you how handsome he is. 

“What about you?” 

“Oh I’m joining a convent” He chuckles and you feel it move through you. It’s a rare sound nowadays. 

“You’ll find someone” Hotch says with a certainty you wished you could have

“That’s just what you say to make people feel better, it’s up there with yes those bangs look great on you or like when you tell little kids that they can be astronauts or whatever” 

“I know you’ll find someone because I don’t think anyone could meet you and not realize how extraordinary you are” He says in an almost whisper. 

“There is someone who, categorically, doesn’t realize it, in this very same room” 

“Could be he didn’t know you as well as you’d think”

“Could be” You concede. 

Some time has passed now, although you can’t pinpoint exactly how long, it feels like the rest of the world went quiet and this is all that’s left. The sweet honeyed lilies, fresh jasmines and heady sweet daffodils of the garden are in full bloom. The night sweetly perfumed as the petals gently swayed to and fro.

From across the garden you can see JJ slow dance with Will, he’s saying something to her and she’s all smiles.  You let your humiliation melt into fondness, the warmth you felt for her pulling you out of your melancholy. New beginnings and all that. 

Photography: Leslie Zhang — Makeup: Lu Wang

Pet portrait commission for Jocelyn.

my dog is being scolded for trying to eat a bee and my mom keeps talking to her like she's a toddler who gets what she's saying

some congressmans wife got kidnaped and it leaked to the press immediately like this wouldn't happen if you guys had hired another media liaison

...now why are they describing the plot of the in universe 50 shades book to this people while presenting the profile ... how is it relevant

I will say that season 10 is so far the "social media evil phone bad" season which is funny given that the writers have clearly no clue how social media works so it ends up being overall a very boring after school special

girlypops i fear my Spencer era is returning to me .. I have about 5 Hotch WIPs on my Google drive but the geek has bewitched me once more

Recent pet portrait commission for Jocelyn! Really enjoyed working on these.

I'm available to commission. Email me at hannahlockillustration@gmail.com for details.

Eduard Bezembinder . St. Mary of the Woods- Collage, papercut, 18 x 24 cm.

oh this had me giggling and kicking my feet

hotch x reader with new baby girl, honestly i have no ideas just anything with girl!dad aaron lovey fluff is all i want, he’s just so lovely ily jadey 💕

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Hotch is so hungry he genuinely wonders if it is acceptable to collapse and beg you to make him a sandwich. He probably would if Jane hadn’t tired you out so fiercely that morning; learning to crawl is hard on both the baby and the mom. 

It’s not his turn to make dinner, but he is, because he doesn’t really care who’s turn it is. He has the tortellini on a low heat, the veggies toasting to a golden brown in the oven. 

He wonders if having a baby isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s certainly not how Hotch imagined it, because Jane is gorgeous and he couldn’t be more in love with her, but she’s also very hard work. Hard work you often perform alone. You don’t seem upset, only tired, and so making dinner is his pleasure. It’s as he’s finishing up that he wonders if he should’ve offered to put Jane down instead. 

He’s trying so, so hard to be the best father and husband that he can be. He might always find it difficult (but it's an effort he’s always willing to make). 

“Dad?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“Dinner almost done?” 

Hotch wraps an arm around Jack’s front despite his wriggling. “Almost,” he says into Jack’s hair, “did you wash your hands?” 

“I always wash my hands. Did you wash yours?” 

Hotch laughs. Steals that extra second with his arms around Jack before he pulls away. “Of course I did. I’m gonna go make sure everything’s okay in babyland, okay? And then we’ll fill in your homework diary.” 

Jack nods and goes back to colouring. In babyland, the living room, outfitted with toys and swings and sleepers, you and Jane are slouched on the floor. You’re leaning against the front of the couch with Jane in your lap while she looks up at you. At eight months old she’s more than fond of a cuddle. Her eyes are wide with love and awe alike as you rub the bridge of her nose with your pinky finger, the closer you get to her eyes, the more they squint closed. You repeat the motion over and over again. “You’re feeling sleepy,” you whisper in a funny tone, “you want to nap badly. You’re gonna sleep for a long couple of hours so mommy can have a bath.” 

“Mom can have a bath,” Hotch says. 

You don’t startle, but your surprise is evident in the way your hand slides up her back. “I’m kidding around.” 

“No, it’s okay. You go take a bath, I can have her.” 

“She might not like that.” 

Jane has clingy syndrome. “Does it matter?” he asks sincerely. If she cries, she cries, and he will try his hardest to comfort her. 

You smile slowly, and sweetly. “Okay, I’ll be quick. I don’t want to miss dinner.” 

“Dinner’s ready when you are.” 

Hotch crouches down to begin the transfer. “Hello, little love,” he murmurs, sliding his fingertips carefully behind her back. She’s warm, her onesie soft. “Can dad have a kiss?” 

Jane is a quiet baby. It’s normal that she might not start speaking for a few more months, but beside the occasional ‘bababa’ or giggly laugh, she doesn’t have much to say —not unlike her father. Her communication lays instead in affection. Her emotional intelligence is in the highest percentile, certainly. 

Not that Hotch is prone to bragging. “There’s my smarty,” he hums, pulling her gently into his arms before he stands. She looks at him with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. 

He can guess what she’s thinking. Why is dad picking me up? 

She looks for you with a wobbly lip. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, can’t dad have some time with you? You’ve favoured your mommy all day.” Hotch brings his free hand to her cheek to stroke it. She loves it, immediately tipping her face into his hand, tickled and huffing as he leans down to kiss her nose. “Please, can I have a kiss?” 

He kisses her cheek. She gives a spitty one back. 

You slink away while she’s distracted and he carries Jane to the kitchen, turning the oven off with one hand, and pushing a chair out with his foot to sit. Jack’s eyes brighten with her arrival, colouring pencils pushed aside. “Hi, Janie.” 

Jack waves at her. She waves back. 

He shifts Jane further into his arms to press lazy kisses over her ear. “My baby,” he murmurs, nearly inaudible against the hum of the washing machine in the utility room and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. “She’s my smart girl. Just like her brother.” He strokes her head back to see her and her baby-lashes. “Hm? You’re my smart girl, aren’t you?” 

She tucks herself into the curve of his neck.

“She knows how to wave already,” Jack says, “when will she be able to say my name?” 

“Pretty soon, bud. Babies tend to learn things in little jumps. She’s making sounds, the babbling she does? That’s a stepping stone. Next she’ll say mama, and then mom, and then we can teach her all sorts of words.” 

“Like crawling to walking.” 

Hotch smiles as Jane leans back against his hand. “Exactly. Jane isn’t the only smarty-pants, huh?” 

Jack smiles in return. “You look happy.” 

“I am happy. So happy, because I’m so lucky to be your dad.” 

“Is it weird?” 

“What?” 

Jack shrugs. “Being a dad.” 

“No, it’s never weird. Sometimes weird stuff happens. Like when we all panicked thinking we couldn’t fine Jane just to realise I was holding her,” —Jack giggles ferociously at the memory— “and, you know, sometimes things get pretty gross.” 

“Like spit up.” 

“Exactly. But being your dad isn’t weird. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lucky…” He kisses Jane again indulgently. “To have ended up with another child as perfect as the first.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, squirming and pleased at once. 

“What?” Hotch laughs. He has spent a long time proving to Jack that he’s not as serious as he was, a long time trying to keep his promise, and he can see now that it worked. Jack shakes his head and goes back to his colouring as a smile apples his cheeks, not for a moment surprised that his dad loves him without hesitation. 

Hotch beams to himself, absolutely full to the top with love as he lifts Jane up just enough to make her smile too. “Oh, nummy!” he says, taking a big pretend bite of her belly. 

You take a long, long time in the bath. He ends up serving Jack’s plate when his son hints that he’s hungry, and giving Jane another couple of ounces of milk. She grows sleepy on his shoulder. With some soft taps to her spine and a handful of loving shushes, she falls asleep there. 

Sentimental, he thinks, Aw, my girl, and begins to rub her little foot through her onesie. 

You find him standing in the kitchen, hip to the counter. He’s not doing anything besides holding Jane, Jack’s plate abandoned at the table and his cartoons playing from the living room. Hotch should’ve put Jane down for a nap in the bassinet in the living room, freeing his hands to tackle the mess of dishes he’s made preparing dinner, but he honestly hadn’t thought about moving. He’d been perfectly content to hold her and rub her wiggling foot. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you whisper. 

“No, no, you take as long as you need. You look better.” 

You ease between Hotch and the counter, situating yourself in a snug corner to see Jane’s face more clearly. You look at her with love, and then you lean up to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d get her to nap. You’re amazing.” 

“She likes all the same stuff as you and Jack,” Hotch whispers with a soft laugh.

You pause for a second. Careful, you bring your hand to his cheek, a gentle fist turned with knuckles inward as you stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Can I take a photo of you?” 

“What for?” he asks. 

“I wanna remember it. And it’ll be nice one day to show Jane.” 

“To show her what?” 

“You, Aaron. Show her how much you love her.” You drop your hand to his shoulder for a squeeze. “You’ve gotten even kinder since she was born. Did you notice?” 

It seems you’re feeling sentimental as well tonight. Your long bath has washed away the stress of a longer day. 

“Okay,” he says, too in love with your smile to disagree, “but just one.” 

Pierpaolo Rovero (Italian b.1974), Paris Plays, 2016, Digital painting

the way i just came here and lied lmao I'll try for tomorrow but I'm going to a bachelorette party so doubt it!

sickfic coming today actually

my actual favorite trope is grumpy x sunshine but the sunshine one is kind of an asshole and the grumpy one is really nice

I'm a soft!Aaron truther lmao so I'm glad you enjoyed him as well! I had so much fun writing then with the team

Late Spring

Summary: In an Italian restaurant somewhere in Nebraska you and the BAU decompress after non stop cases. And like a magic trick SSA Aaron Hotchner goes back to being Aaron

Word count: 1.8k

After a serial arsonist in North Hempstead, New York; a serial killer in Chandler, Arizona and an amber alert taking you to Lincoln, Nebraska back to back the entire team was running on fumes. Actually fumes were what you were running after the second week, right now it was just coffee and the thought of eventually getting to sleep in your own beds.

It’s not easy being in close quarters with the same group of people for so long, especially when you’ve had to share bedrooms for most of it. First a week with JJ, then three days with Emily and even one night with Spence after both Derek and Rossi refused to bunk with him citing intense sleep talking - which was, in fact, confirmed by you.

Eventually all the rooms started to blur together in your head, from the ugly pink explosion that was the bed and breakfast (which by the way had none), to the motel 6 in Nebraska that seemed straight out of a horror story, complete with an extremely creepy caretaker. Or future unsub Mike as Emily dubbed him.

Tonight was the last night before you could get home and you guys were celebrating big time, which at your current combined energy level meant an actual sit down meal where you didn’t have to look at a dismembered torso while trying to keep down some soggy fries and an under cooked burger.

You all ate in relative silence, brains too fried to talk about anything anymore, the rundown “italian” restaurant - yes Italian in air quotes just like Rossi insisted on doing every time he mentioned the place. The buzzing of the fluorescent light and the scraping of cutlery against plates being the only backdrop to your collective exhaustion.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that, finally, after close to three weeks Hotch could ditch the BAU Unit Chief SSA Hotchner and for once just be Aaron. And oh how you missed Aaron.

Despite having spent the better part of each day right next to him it felt like the chasm between you was larger than ever. It was what you had both agreed to; at work pretend like he’s just your unit chief and you’re just the media liaison. No room sharing, no public displays of affection.

Sometimes the affection bleed through the contours of professionalism he insisted on keeping well defined. Something as simple as him pressing his big palm in the middle of your back right between your shoulder blades as you spoke to him; heads a smidge closer together than strictly necessary.

Right now, though, he was just Aaron. Your Aaron. Sitting right next to you, chairs pushed together. Shirt sleeves rolled over his forearms, tie discarded in the hotel room along with his jacket and the last vestiges of whatever sense of professionalism he was still clinging to. His arm around the back of your chair as you leaned into it, head tilted back looking at him as he drank a beer.

He looks back at you and gives you a brief smile, the fondness in his eyes lingering, leg nudging yours underneath the table.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” He says. “Me? Are you kidding?” You yawned “Send us off to the next case I’m ready” Although it wasn’t the cold the sleepiness was making the air conditioned room feel ten times colder so you shivered and took the liberty to lean even closer to him. His hand went to rub your arm trying to warm you back up.

“Do not” Derek chimed in “even joke about that, pretty boy said the same thing after Lincoln and look at us now”

“Yeah, look at us now, in Lincoln” Said Emily with a straight face before drowning the remainder of her beer and snatching JJs before she could realize what had happened.

“I’m too tired for this, you know what I meant.”

“mhhh, sooryy” You replied, not looking very sorry as you closed your eyes and rested your head on the crook of Aarons neck. Breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and him, more present than ever after day three in the Nebraska summer. His hand is still trailing a path up and down your side, wrinkling your already very wrinkled green shirt and lulling you to sleep.

You felt Aarons lips nudge your temple talking to your in low gentle tones, his breath tickling the baby hairs in your forehead “Do no fall asleep on me or I’ll have to carry you back to the hotel”

“And you’re afraid that if people saw I would lose all of my hard earned Lincoln Nebraska street cred?”

He huffed a laugh before planting a whisper of a kiss on your temple “No, I’m afraid I’m going to throw my back and then you’ll be stuck taking care of me for two weeks”

“If it gets you to rest for two entire weeks I might just consider it”

“Jack would probably help”

“It’s good that you know us so well, and besides I saw you yesterday you still got it” You smiled against his neck remembering the brief but very interesting fight against the unsub before he could be apprehended. “Remind me to ask Penny if she has a copy of the surveillance tape, I’m planning on making the showing it at your birthday dinner next year”

“Look forward to it”

Suddenly you felt a small object hit your chest, looking down to see a crumpled napkin on your lap.

“Can you please get a room? This is the first decent meal I’ve had in weeks and I would hate to throw it back up” Said Emily with a mocking smile, her pearly white teeth contrasting with her faded, barely there plum lipstick.

“I’ve been trying to find a room for days now but none of you know how to cooperate” You reply with a huff.

“Saying please repeatedly until I tell you to shut up is not a good persuasion strategy” Said JJ frowning after getting her beer back from Emily and realizing it was almost empty.

“I don’t see why not, it’s never failed before” You said with a smug smile.

“Besides if we suffer, you suffer” Derek interjects.

“Aww just like a real family”

After a couple of minutes Spencer piped up next to Derek “I would have traded rooms with you”

“Don’t encourage her” Said JJ in her patented and perfected disgruntled mom voice

“I’m going to keep this in mind next time you ask us to babysit Henry so you can have alone time, Jareau”

“Okay, okay” Emily interrupted “Let’s all change subjects, the last thing I want is to talk more about Hotch’s sex life; no offense but in order for this to work I have to think of you like a Ken Doll”

You let out a startled laugh, properly awake now “oh I can assure you my friend-”

“Okay, that’s enough” Said Hotch trying to invoke his authoritative former prosecutor, current FBI unit chief voice. Which was, of course, completely useless when he was blushing so hard.

You just laughed once more, leaning over to briefly kiss his cheek in apology as your friends heckled you both.

What was meant to be a quick dinner before hitting the hay, although in this case the hay was actually a very thin and lumpy hotel mattress, turned into a couple more beers. And yes there were times this week when going to sleep and waking up to Emily's snoring face made you want to quit and move to the seaside but there was truly no other group of people that could make an “Italian” dinner this fun.

Afterwards you all headed you, the brief rise in energy quickly waning at the prospect of more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Aaron held you back towards the rear of the group, his arm around you possibly the only thing keeping you upright. The dusk settling over the skyline painted the city pink and gold, you looked back at him standing next to each other on the sidewalk. His eyes a syrupy sweet caramel brown in the golden hour.

“Apparently there’s an ice cream place a couple of blocks from here, it’s supposed to be very good actually” He said looking down for a minute. It took you back to your first date, him asking to take you to a jazz bar which was more so Dave's plan than his, only to end up at a taco truck talking until three am. It amazed you then just as it did now how he could go from stern FBI agent, commanding a room without raising his voice to, well, Aaron.

You smiled up at him, the others long gone leaving you two enveloped in the last rays of sunlight.

“I’d love to, you might actually have to carry me back though, I don’t think this second wind is gonna carry me more than an hour”

“That’s alright, I heard that if I throw my back I get a couple of weeks”

“Whoever told you that was so smart”

“And beautiful”

“Can’t forget that part”

“Well I might not be able to swing two whole weeks but I did arrange to have three days off for everyone” Aaron said, hands in his pocket walking by leisurely next to you as passersby carved a path around you both, a hurried businessman bumping into your back made Hotch pull you closer still, once more enveloping your back.

“Are you serious?” At his assenting nod you couldn't help but smile “and you kept that all to yourself?”

“Mhm”

“Anything else up your sleeve Hotchner?”

“Aaron”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard the name Hotch so often these last couple of weeks I almost forgot what my actual name sounded like” He said with a small smile, but you also knew by the way he melted when you said it that he was particularly fond of how it sounded coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, anything else up your sleeve, Aaron?” You asked fondly, unable to resist any longer and stealing a quick kiss before resuming your walk.

“No, nothing else”

“Okay”

“Oh I did convince Dave to share a room with Derek tonight which would indicate that I’m on my own tonight”

“No way, did I miss an anniversary or something?” You asked looking up at him

“No, I just missed you lately”

“Me too but no one else would budge on the room thing, how did you do it?”

“It only cost me forty bucks and promising to take over both Morgans and Rossi's reports for the last case”

“Ah bribery, should have done that sooner”

“You can’t blame yourself honey, I was a prosecutor after all”

You laughed once more, giddiness dispersing your exhaustion, making you feel like you could stay up until next morning, without trouble.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, the ice cream shop just right around the corner, you drew him towards you, leaning up to kiss him slowly and unhurried. Savoring the feeling of coming home after three weeks and not being able to wait a moment more.

sickfic coming today actually

they’re inventing a new unendurable thing

Shows on the roster:

- Breaking Bad (currently in it)

- The Wire

- Sex and the City

- Game of Thrones / House of the Dragon (yes it's not good I'm still determined to finish both)

- Last season of stranger things

- Sharp objects

- Derry Girls

I can't keep picking up books and quitting a hundred pages in to start another one. Especially because I want to do a horror marathon in October, so I think my current reading list kinda has to be:

- Klara and the Sun

- Haunting of Hill House

- My dark Vanessa

- A little life (undecided if I'm actually going to keep reading this one tho, I have my limits)

- A Game of Thrones

Josef Albers

costar truisms

Greek pottery.