#hotcs

[estrangedandwayward]

Arthur and Zoe from house on the cerulean sea

Full drawings of both under the cut

[kumiaku]

Idk if someone else has already done this (probably honestly) but Fatui Harbingers x Fairy Tales. rn I'm thinking along the lines of classic disney princess movies, but essentially the fic would roughly follow the plot of the disney movie but with the given harbinger as a love interest instead of the prince, and ofc set within Teyvat.

Currently the one that has been marinating in my brain since like 30 minutes ago is Cinderella themed Pantalone, but I need more ideas before I can confidently start writing it as a semi series. Lmk any ideas you might wanna see and I'll try to add it to a list and work my way through it soon.

[charleslee-valentine]

Firefly family name etymology:

It’s no secret their names are chosen from stories, a coverup of sorts, but the family does have real names as well, at least for the most part, with the exception of Otis. That’s because he chose his own name, giving it at least some significance still.

We’ll start with him, since he’s the oldest of the Firefly children. The name Otis means ‘leisure.’ He’s a man who doesn’t feel threatened by much. Even when shit starts to hit the fan in the second two films, he remains joking, cocky, and proud. Leisure is in his relaxed bones, even when he’s furious and scolding and violent. Even in the way he stands, with his shoulders sagged and his crotch forward, is a leisurely poster.

The second child is RJ. Full name Rufus Junior. More complicated because of its simplicity, the meaning of his name is ‘reddened.’ While there’s no personality connections there, it can possibly offer insight on his killings. Blood is red and the Firefly family home is deeply soaked in blood. It’s assumed they’ve been killing for the entirety of the children’s lives, though that’s somewhat unclear. However if Rufus got his hands ‘reddened’ when he was young (accounting for the secondary meaning of junior) then it does imply that the family allows their small children to kill as well. A minor detail, but considering the shared insight on the whole family, shows RJ being dedicated to them first and foremost.

Next is Baby. Of course this, along with Angel Baby, are her nicknames. Her true name is Vera Ellen. Together, the double name has the meanings ‘true’ and ‘brilliant.’ She was her parents pride and joy and was named ‘truly brilliant’ after the way she shined to them. However I see it as a signal that she isn’t just a pretty, happy face too. She's also as intelligent as others in the family, despite her mental health and delusions. Thus it serves as a warning not to underestimate her. She’s every bit as cunning as her brothers, in on all the plans, with twice the protection because she’s her Mama and Daddy’s little star.

As for the Firefly parents themselves, there’s Mama. Her real name is Gloria, which means ‘honor.’ Befitting of the common matriarch in the family, everything they do is to her liking. Even Otis comes down to supper and brings Wolf because he knows that would make her happy. After her death, they raise hell and fight to survive and honor her. They made a promise to her, and to the other family they lost, to not go down without a fight. All those bullets they took was to honor her. Her name represents the symbol she presents to the rest of her family.

Except Earl, who we don’t see her interact with. Because of what he did he’s been exiled from the Firefly family, but it’s worth noting that his name can mean ‘lion.’ It would seem the man had a bad temperament to do what he did, and likely without much warning. He pounced and struck and Tiny was hurt, so Earl was no longer part of the family. In that sense, it reflects his nature as a dangerous animal, a monster to them.

His replacement as consistent patriarch and father to Baby is Spaulding. While his nicknames include Captain Spaulding and Cutter, his government name is Johnny Lee Johns. Combining the meanings of Johnny ‘graced by god’ and Lee ‘poet,’ he’s symbolically been gifted his ability to wax poetic and monologue. Spaulding spends his very last moments of life ranting and monologuing in that disturbing and cruel way the Firefly family does. To us, it doesn’t seem like poetry, but his wisdom to the family is important. His poeticism isn’t his word choice, it’s the way he can use words to crush a victim’s spirit, or to scare and unsettle them right into the arms of his waiting family members down the road to be hunted.

The final member of the family, at least in order of introduction, is Foxy. He’s Otis’ half-brother, so he has his own surname that he doesn’t share with anybody else. His name obviously is not a Marx character like the rest of the family’s nicknames as well. Foxy is just the shorthand of his middle name, Foxworth, full name Winslow Foxworth Coltrane. Winslow means ‘grave’ or ‘burial.’ His rescue of his brother, and thus his entrance into the story, is necessary because of death. Cutter is dead, Mama is dead, RJ and Tiny are dead, and Otis and Baby likely aren’t long behind. Foxy is a figure of the family, who is only essential in the loss of life, so his name is significant in marking him with that death. Foxworth can mean ‘homestead’ which only adds to the tragic meaning there. His family is dead, his home gone and burnt to the ground, and he wasn’t there to see it or defend them too. The death of all those family members and the loss of his home is the reason for his determination to save his remaining two siblings, and be included in the family. Baby and Otis don’t consider him part of that fight, but he’s just as wounded by it. Coltrane is symbolic of ‘wild energy.’ The result of the above trauma for him is his manic attitude. Even as calm and flat affected as he can seem, he turns cruel and sadistic when push comes to shove. All of the Firefly family can fit into that trope, of completely unhinged assholes, but Foxy wears the specific name that says it’s a part of him. Showing that he is a memeber of the family regardless of his prison stint that had him separated from the rest.

Firefly, of course, is a name chosen from characters and likely not their legal name, but it’s the one they use. The little insect fireflies symbolize ‘hope.’ The family reminds each other to be hopeful, because they see themselves as untouchable. Nobody can stop them, it seems at least, and Baby has to be reminded of that when she’s in Mexico grieving her Mama and Daddy. The love they have and the hope they share exists despite their evil and destructive nature, showing that they are a family unit deep down. Afterall, the point of these three films was to show what happens when the killers have support and love and family behind them for once, and how less likely their victims are in such a case to survive.

[lovers-instead]

appreciation post for the original Enemy music video from 2021

[thischarmingand]

Now that I’ve reached the stage of googling “[authorname] bad reviews” I think it’s time to admit I don’t get TJ Klune.

[derrypubliclibrary]

you know for someone with gay in their username this is the second time I've ever seen your gay in action

2nd?! 🤨🤨

[duckwithacomputer]

wish they had reverse ice. you put some in your drink and it heats up instead of cools off. life changing.

[sapphic-luthor]

I keep forgetting what day it is but uh update on cute car girl: dinner was good but she’s very happy in her current relationship so maybe next time for the meet cute. In the meantime did you know House on the Cerulean Sea has a sequel out (I don’t even know if you read the first one (if you haven’t you should. It’s like a warm hug))? I just picked it up and I’m excited for it. Sending good vibes for your week ahead! - SMA

WOOPS sorry about the inference that you guys were going to sleep together and get married forever lmao

also i have never heard of this book!! am adding to my storygraph tbr as we speak

[karenjacksons]

random thoughts on head of the class’s main characters (and in some cases, actors because a bunch of them have insane career trajectories)

[[MORE]] Charlie Moore: a great teacher played by a great actor. RIP Howard Hesseman. I was sad to see him leave the show at the end of s4, but in the long run I understood why he did it. (I love how Wikipedia says it was “ostensibly” a vehicle for him.) You can literally see him rolling his eyes at the kids antics in some scenes lol. Principal Samuels: he was very funny but one of the most one dimensional characters on the show. Bernadette Meara: the interesting thing about her is she was basically a side character until s5 when she had some of her biggest roles ever. Since I feel like Billy Connolly had a say in some of his plot lines I wonder if he requested her to be his love interest. She and Billy should have ended up together, fuck his “spin off”. Also Jeannetta Arnette was only a few years older than some of the actors who played students.

Arvid Engen: one of the most lovable characters but also one of the most overused. I wish they gave him less A-Plots so that characters like Sarah or Darlene could have more.

Dennis Blunden: oh Dennis. It’s hard not to see his infamous actor in some of his antics (not in the “sexual predator” way, but in the general “bad behavior/mistreating his friends” way). But since Dennis is a fictional character he has the positive quality that he always redeems himself/makes up for it in the end so all in all I loved him…..and Dan Schneider did give a great performance as him. Also, as much as I love the show…….the fat jokes about him in nearly every episode got to be too harsh. If Schneider himself had wrote them for another actor it would have been another reason for quiet on set to rip him to pieces.

Alan Pinkard: like Dennis, both hatable but lovable at the same time. Tony O’Dell was a great actor, and he worked as Zendaya’s acting coach on Shake It Up and KC Undercover, so there’s that! Most of the limited HOTC fandom also seems to revolve around Tony (blame Cobra Kai).

Darlene Merriman: for much of the show Darlene wasn’t given much to do. It was only in the last few episodes Robin Givens really got to shine. I think it’s probably because of her personal life (FUCK Mike Tyson btw.) I am also a hardcore Alan/Darlene shipper but the crumbs of their relationship were mostly treated as a joke. Robin is the only one to return for the removed from HBO MAX reboot, but to be fair she’s one of the only one who still acts in mainstream roles.

Simone Foster: loved Simone. Cottagecore queen. Simone/Eric is my OTP and her episode tearing down Alex after he claims they had sex is her all time greatest moment. Everyone talks about Schneider and Robbins for obvious reasons but Khrystyne Haje is an insane success story. She co-owned a 500 million dollar Silicon Valley company!!!! and her story of surviving STAGE FOUR breast cancer with an experimental treatment…….holy fuck.

Eric Mardian: iconic rebel without a cause. As said above I love his relationship with Simone. The one thing I’d say I didn’t like about his story was the back-and-forth about him not being on the academic team that lasted till the very end of the show-even TJ was on the team. Also Brian Robbins’ insane career needs to be studied in a lab. From sitcom bad boy to CEO of Paramount.

Sarah Nevins: iconic queen. best girl. what more can I say except I love her. my only problem with her character is she was treated as a background character at some points. I liked her relationship with Jasper but I also shipped with with Arvid (I swear it sometimes comes off like she still liked him after their breakup).

Maria Borges: hmm. I didn’t like her throughout most of her run……but I missed her when she was gone. I also love her outfits (but not as much as I love Viki’s!)

Jawarhal Choudhury: the most forgotten and mistreated character. He could have been one of the best!!! An Indian immigrant learning to adjust to America! For how smart the writers are I don’t think they knew how to write that…I definitely understand why Jory Husain wanted to quit.

Janice Lazarotto: another top tier character. Having a little girl genius was great and I think letting her go was a mistake…..she would have been a teen in s4/5 and seeing her friends react to her grow up could have been hilarious.

TJ Jones: I didn’t like her at first…..I thought they wrote her to be too over the top and sassy. But by the end, I enjoyed her.

Alex Torres: the only character I never once liked. He’s the worst! Also, I understand keeping O’Dell and Frischman…..they probably never expected the show to last until they were in their 30s. But casting Michael DeLorenzo when he was ALREADY 30 and had just finished a long running role on a different teen show (Fame) was bizarre.

Aristotle McKenzie: De’voreaux White basically plays an aged down, even wackier version of Argylle from Die Hard. I liked him, but not as much as Jawarhal or Janice. I don’t think he and TJ were a good match either. Also, I found out on Instagram one of Kimberly Russell’s adopted children is actually named Aristotle, which is a coincidence despite my kneejerk assumption that she took the name from the show (she adopted 5 of her kids in 2013).

Viki Amory: I didn’t like her at all at first, with her ditziness and the way all the boys fawned over her. But I really liked her by the end. (Removing her ditziness definitely helped). But I especially loved her outfits! She was so ahead of her time……she basically dresses like a modern 2024 girl.

Jasper Kwong: a last minute addition to the show when the writers realized how unrealistic it was to no longer have any Asian characters (I think they could have made Viki Asian, but oh well) who happens to be played by one of the most famous actors on the show-future oscar winner Ke Hu Quan! (Credited under a stage name-Jonathan). I really liked him, and I think he was written inspired by Quan’s real life personality. You can also definitely see Quan’s acting chops in his debut episode….but I think they all showed signs of greatness on the show :)

and last but not least…….Billy McGregor! When Charlie left I was prepared to hate him (like Dennis). But Billy Connolly was a great addition. He was so different from Hesseman with his over the top comedy, but he still had heart and great chemistry with the students. But I read about the “spin-off” they gave him where Connolly supposedly played the same character in a different setting…ugh. Couldn’t they have just made it a new character? He and Bernadette should have ended up together!

[bewarethemoonlads]

got to see House of 1000 Corpses in the theater tonight!! not to get hashtag fake deep but it was a genuinely fuckin amazing experience

[estrangedandwayward]

Finished house on the cerulean sea last night and loved it soooo much, I've already ordered a copy of the sequel but in the mean time I just HAD to draw them all, kind of a different style then I normally do, a lot more cartoony but I think that fits

[kumiaku]

The Esther post heralding the new chapter of HOTC, here is Lorelai's body in it's current state.

Now a few things I do want to mention, this is of course, not a perfect approximation. The watercolor leaked on me a bit, and my pen messed up when I made it + ofc this was made like at least a year ago, so I do have a couple drawings to compensate for that fact. This is mainly just so the coloration is down.

Like this gorgeous one that actually has her in motion! Fear not though, I do have more. (I physically cannot stop drawing her)

Uh oh, babygirl is crying with rain in this one, it's because I like drawing side profiles from time to time, but also idk set in weeping peninsula or smth maybe.

Have a small memeish sketch from this chapter. It felt so weird to have Esther smile idk man. It's kinda a wombo combo of a couple redraw memes ngl. Speaking of redraw memes...

I also drew this low quality things for funzies.

Ooo look this one has a comparison in it! You can see what was meant to have the slight differences in their face shapes, eye shapes, hair, ect. Though color isn't really able to be seen. But also if you notice, there are a couple mannerisms that are nice too! Like Lorelai body clutching Esther tight, while Esther's hand is actually hovering and not touching Lorelai at all.

Final one for this post, and my favorite actually. Hands! Blood! Oh boy! I felt like I needed to draw something that was really properly thematic.

[charleslee-valentine]

A little Otis Driftwood theory

A teenager/young man with albinism in the 40s such as himself easily could’ve been in a freakshow. Albinism was commonly paired with talents, one popular example being a woman who swallowed swords in the 1950s. The decline in popularity of freakshows wasn’t until around that time.

Otis throws knives, has a sense of showmanship (Fishboy! and talking directly to cameras,) knows how to prepare manufactured oddities of all kinds, and hates clowns. Having some kind of past in the sideshow business doesn’t seem too far out of the realm of possibility. Especially since he apparently traveled all over. A drifter doesn’t equate to unemployment- a drifter can drift with a touring showbusiness company.

He supposedly didn’t join the Firefly family until he was in his 30s and Cutter found him. Maybe he’s still working for some sort of run down freak show, or maybe not. But there’s gotta be something to draw Cutter to taking him in with his family, and it’s certainly not their barely tolerating each other. An insider knowledge in the very oddities Cutter bases his station theme around maybe?

Besides, he’d been independent since he was still a child. He’d have to have supported at least himself in the 20 some odd years since, doubly so if he already had his brother with him. Even traveling freak shows had some kind of housing, and the pay wasn’t all that bad, that’s why so many disabled folks tolerated the abuse. It would’ve been better than nothing. Its not like a teenager and an 8 year old (going off of Rich Brake’s age when 3fh was filmed) are gonna get away with any kind of crime spree for money/food/shelter while already on the run for Otis killing their parents.

Otis himself could’ve done knife throwing which is why he knows it, or been something of a ringleader I imagine.

[goorgeousz]

hi hi hi♥️

it's me again, i have a new idea and it's that last night i was watching again the episode where the girl accuses Jack's teacher of liking Hotch, i think it's episode 9x22🫣

you can write the scene but where the reader and Hotch are together but maybe the boys don't know and when the girl says ' likes Jack's dad' the reader is just like '🤨' a little jealous and that leads to them calling each other 'mine' publicly maybe Jack my beautiful innocent boy exposes them with a witty comment🤓☝🏻

tbh, i had this idea more developed but i didn't know how to interpret it in words,anyway, you can ignore it if you want, i'm sending you love!♥️♥️

xoxoxo

ms. springs | aaron hotchner

ms. springs | aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader

summary: when yet another woman becomes interested in hotch, you start to rethink your decision of keeping your relationship a secret. jack solves your dilemma in a second. 

content/tw: secret established relationship, pure fluff with a little spice, jack being adorable, the team being insufferable and supportive, hotch being a tease, jack refers to reader as ‘her’. i think that’s about it!

word count: 3.1k

a/n: heyyyyyy, my love!!!! I was so happy to see you again on my requests, I’m absolutely in love with your mind!! I loved your idea and you do such a good job in describing it, I instantly picture the story in my mind. I’m sorry it took me a long time to post this, I was drowning in WIPs but as soon as I could, I immediately started this one! it was delicious and so fun to write, it turned out longer than I expected… either way, I really hope you like it! Thank you for being so kind and for sending the request, sending much much love!!!!!!!!!

dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist <3

“Yeah. You like Jack’s dad.”  the little girl said, smiling proudly. Your ears perked up at that, like a dog hearing its favorite words.

The other kids had already left, led by Garcia. Aside from this little girl, Jack and their teacher, only you, Hotch and Rossi were at the briefing room.

You and Rossi exchanged a surprised look, trying to hold back a laugh.

Hotch’s eyes widened a bit, and he looked at them with a tight smile, his lips pressed together like he had no idea on what to do, one hand rested on his son’s shoulder and the other shoved deep in his pocket – he had no business looking that good. IJack looked at his teacher unamused, his eyes scanning all the adults in the room. You would find the situation funny – it truly was – if it weren’t for that tingly little ugly feeling on your chest, stealing your words.

Since you had no idea what to do with your hands, you started to collect some of the materials, unable to watch the scene with a steady face like Rossi did.

“I’m not sure…” the woman chuckled, trying to turn the situation around, but the girl wasn’t having any of it.

“When you talk about your cat…” she started, cutting her teacher’s words short, proudly showing off her profiling skills “...you talk real, real fast ‘cause you really like your cat. You talked real fast today, not like with the other dads.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, not wanting to draw attention. Hotch was a mix of shyness, amusement and confusion, politely holding back a smile. The woman glanced back at him, her eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and embarrassment, her blushed cheeks giving her out – if her student hadn’t already.

“Thanks again, Mr. Hotchner.” she said quickly. Just like the little girl said – that stubborn little voice in your head pointed. “The kids had a great time.”

“You’re welcome.” Hotch mumbled, his eyes dropping on the floor and his cheeks just as red as hers. You squeezed your eyes at the scene.

Ms. Springer hushed out the door right after, guiding the girl with her, her heels clicking so fast against the floor you were surprised she didn’t stumble.

Rossi waited less than two seconds after they left the room to sigh loudly, moving from his statue position to look at you and Hotch amused – here we go.

“Probably had to go feed the cat.” he said, ironically. You huffed out a laugh, changing a fist bump with him before he left the room too. Hotch didn’t answer, only smiling back at both of you before dropping on his knees to talk to Jack. You finished tidying up the briefing room and let them talk, something about hot dogs and hamburgers – nothing about Ms Springer and her crush.

“Why don’t you go find Morgan, huh? I have some things left to finish, but you can invite them all to dinner later.” he celebrated, running out of the room, leaving only you and Hotch behind.

You pretend not to notice him approaching you from behind, proudly sticking up your chin while you organize the (already tidily organized) shelves.

“Hey.” he starts, his hands finding their way to your shoulders. Your body immediately relaxes under his touch – traitor –, not even worrying if people might walk in.

The two of you had been in a serious relationship for the past few months now, but kept it a secret. At least at work, no one on the team knew yet. At first,you just wanted to test out the waters before you let everyone know, but when the time came, you just kept pushing back. 

It was just too comfortable to keep it a secret. Holding hands when no one could see it, stealing kisses behind closed doors, hidden visits to each other's hotel room during cases (until Emily almost caught you because of a lost sock), pretending to arrive at the same time when you quite literally woke up next to him… Your relationship was a little bit of sunshine in the middle of all the storm of the job. You wanted the team to know, they were your friends, your family. But it was so difficult to pop that little bubble of happiness you two fought so hard to create, that it just had to wait a little while longer.

And it was a joint decision, you both wanted this. To keep the secret. It was easier, fun and delicious.

Until things like that happened.

You weren’t a blind trust kind of person, but you hadn’t a single doubt that Hotch loved you, just like you loved him. You respected and trusted each other in more ways than one, so that sick feeling on the pit of your stomach had absolutely nothing to do with him getting with Jack’s teacher. But the fact that there was nothing you could do about it.

Aaron Hotchner was an attractive man. That wasn’t an opinion, it was a fact. Being around him as much as you did (being his coworker and his girlfriend) got you used to watching women of all kinds of ages try and get their way with him. Family of victims, paramedics, officers, firefighters, witnesses, non-witnesses, people who pretended to be witnesses just to be questioned by him. Point was: people wanted him.

They never stood a chance, though. You got used to it, but Aaron was an expert. He dodged flirting like a professional, turning them down without a beat, not being blunt about it but never leaving any room from any misinterpretation. 

You didn’t have to worry about it, but there was no logical explanation that could shoo away the ache on your chest from the fact that you couldn’t even brag about being his girlfriend, not-subtly walking around with your hands wrapped around his arm, shoving on everyone’s faces how much he loved you.

Although you knew it was a completely understandable feeling, you were stubborn enough to swallow it back, trying to look cool and unbothered by it. Because in true honesty, even if you could do something about it, you wouldn’t. He handled it just fine, and Ms. Springer was in no way shape or form disrespectful – except for that longing look on her face that made you want to poke her eye out with a pen. But you were mature, really. You weren’t going to say anything about it.

“Hey, heartbreaker.” it slipped out of your tongue before you could hold yourself back. You bite your lower lip immediately, shutting your eyes close in desperation. Oh, so mature.

Hotch, on the other hand, wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Quite the opposite, you heard him chuckle behind you, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck from his position behind you. Son of a bitch.

“I knew it.” He teased, before leaving a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear, smiling so hard he barely managed to close his lips on your skin “Honey, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” it was the truth. You weren’t worried – annoyed, jealous, possessive, bitter? Sure. But not worried.

“Really?” his hands found your hips, turning you around to face him. Your eyes squinted at how amused he looked.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re not enjoying this.” you muttered and he laughed, actively throwing his head back.

“I’m sorry, honey. I really am. But it’s fun to see the tables turned.”

You grimaced at him “What are you even talking about?”

He arched an eyebrow at you “All the men I have to endure bashfully flirting with you in front of me. And having to shake their hands afterwards.” you roll your eyes “It’s nice to see a change in scenario.”

“Oh shut up. Women flirt with you all the time and I have to—” he presses his lips together to try and stifle a laugh and you realize you walked right into his trap “I’m not jealous.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not.”

“I believe you.” he doesn’t – and he’s completely right in not doing so.

Instead of admitting it and just moving on, you just step closer to him, flashing him a smile that makes his heart beat faster.

“I’m not worried in the slightest.” you drag your fingernail against his chest, dragging it down until the hem of his pants, hooking your finger on his belt hoops “Is actually flattering when other women flirt with you. Makes me proud that they want what’s mine.” you stop mid-track, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, your eyelashes batting in a dramatic way “Aren’t you mine, Aaron?”

He knew what you were doing, right from the start. But he felt for it, like he always did. All logical thinking flies away from his brain whenever you flirt with him like this. So he cleared his throat, nodding pathetically.

“I am. You have nothing to worry about.”

You chuckled, pushing away from his chest and walking away “You already said that. Plus, Ms. Springs have nothing on me.”

“Ms. Springer.” he corrected, making you stop on your feet, turning slowly against him. You squeeze your eyes in his direction, realizing he was teasing you.

“That’s a dangerous game, Hotchner.”

He laughed, approaching you and giving your backside a playful smack before walking out, leaving you stunned on your feet “You started it���.

Oh, it was on.

After that, there wasn’t much work to do. Apart from some reports here and there, time went by quickly, and next thing you knew the team walked out together, organizing the carpool to the dining place Jack chose. All nine of you sat up at one big round table, you finding your rightful place – not that anyone knew – by his side.

He pulled out your chair for you, just like he always did, as soon as he settled Jack down on his other side. Aaron was a gentleman, you all knew that. So that’s why no one gave you a weird look, they were used to this. But that was just the beginning.

Since Jack was there and that was a big change in scenario, he was the center of attention. The team made jokes, asked him questions and told him stories. They were so caught up with the young boy in front of him, and trying to entertain him, their profile skills didn’t notice what was going on with you.

Even though you played it cool on the briefing room, the Ms. Springer situation did bother you. And you were, in fact, being extra touchy with him. Pulling your chair closer to his, touching his arms when speaking directly to him, getting a fry from his plate without asking first. Things you usually didn’t let yourself do in front of the team.

And being the loving, respectful and enthusiastic boyfriend that he was, he just let you. Not daring to say a word about the way you lingered closer to his side, or laughed too loud at one of his jokes. Of course, the twinkle on his eyes and the smirk playing on his lips giving in that you would be hearing about it later.

In your defense, he wasn’t being any better: always making sure to fill your glass up, handing you napkins and the ketchup bottle before you could even think of asking. It got to the point where while he shared a story with Emily, who sat right by your side, he even rested his arm on the back of your chair, with the excuse to make himself be heard better by her.

Eventually they started to notice, though. Alex noticed your proximity when she asked you to reach for the mayonnaise and your arm brushed against Hotch’s because of how close you were. Then Reid and Emily exchanged wide-eyed glances when you referred to Hotch as Aaron, which none of you usually did. Rossi cleared his throat after he called your boyfriend’s name twice but he was too busy smiling at something you were saying to listen. Morgan arched an eyebrow when you left to the restroom, squeezing Hotch’s shoulder on the way. And JJ almost choked on her hamburger as he leaned his head back to watch you walk away, eyes glued to your backside in awe.

But Jack really sealed the deal for you.

“So, Jack, what did you think about career day today?” Rossi asked the boy, who (instructed by his father) finished swallowing his hot dog bite to answer.

“I loved it. My dad won.” everybody on the table laughed.

“It’s not a competition.” Hotch pointed out, despite the proud smile dancing across his lips.

“Shut up, you won.” you nudged his side, earning a laugh from both Jack and Aaron.

The two of you seemed to be so lost in your whole little bubble, neither realized the exchange of mischievous glances between the team.

“Jacky, be honest. Was my cave the best part of the tour, yes or no?” Garcia tried.

“I feel like the lab really made an impression.” Reid chimed, holding his finger up with a lopsided grin on his face. Morgan snorted.

“Right, weirdos. We all saw how their eyes lit up in the gym.”

Jack, much to everyone’s please, laughed loudly to each and every joke from the team members. They absolutely loved the kid, and it was a breath of fresh air amongst all the darkness they deal with on a daily basis to be around that kind of innocence and joy.

“Now, tell us. Do you want to be a profiler when you grow up?” Alex asked, wiggling her eyebrows expectantly. All eyes turned to him, excited and curious.

Jack pressed his lips back together, his eyes darting at each one of them, like he was calculating and weighing every pro and con of being a profiler. Stopping at his dad’s face, he nodded to himself, finally getting to a conclusion. He looked back at Alex and answered, point blank.

“No.” their reaction was priceless. Some laughed, some frowned in a fake disappointment, one of them sat back, worrying he was such a bad parent that the mere thought of being somewhat close to what his father is was unbearable for Jack.

“Mhm, agreed.” Garcia nodded, jabbing Derek’s side with her elbow like she heard the little boy say how much she was better than them. “But why’s that?”

Jack shifted on his seat, looking like he was about to give a lecture “I really like reading Harry Potter before bed. And profilers only read work. I wouldn’t like it.”

Everyone at the table laughed – even Aaron, who finally looked like he could breathe again –, and you understood immediately. Aaron, more often than not, had a file on his bedside table, the endless amount of paperwork following him home, and sometimes, when Jack asked his dad what he was reading, he just answered “Work. It’s boring, you wouldn’t like it.” and apparently he took these words way too seriously.

“Oh, sweetie. I fear that’s just your dad.” JJ explained, giving Hotch a pointed and amused look.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Jack just pressed his lips together, shaking his head in disagreement. He then, faster than you could ever think, his eyes fell on you and he pointed his chubby little fingers at your figure, like he was accusing you of first degree murder.

“She does it too, I’ve seen it. They even read together.” he explained, and your mind went blank.

It was like a bomb had dropped. A big fat juicy gossipy bomb, but still. You watched everyone’s reaction before your brain even registered what just happened. Spencer’s eyes darted between you and Hotch like he was rewatching every last interaction to see what he missed. Derek had a wolf-like smile on his face, and you already knew you were going to listen. Garcia looked like a life version of the heart eyes emoji. JJ and Alex looked like they were about to start jumping on their seats and cheering. Rossi looked proud and smug, and Emily had her mouth and eyes wide open, so much that if she tried a little harder you were sure they would pop out of her head.

All while Jack took another bite of his hot-dog, the corner of his mouth sticky with ketchup and mustard, incredibly unaware of what he just had done. On the other hand, you and Aaron stared at each other with wide eyes, not sure on how to act. There wasn’t any way you could avoid the topic now, was it? Absolutely not. And no one would believe you if you came up with a lie, even if you were creative enough to think of an explanation to why Jack saw you and his dad together in bed reviewing case files that didn’t involve the words ‘secret relationship’ in it.

“My, my.” Derek broke the silence, the weight of his smile dripping on the tone of his voice. You knew that there was no way back, but your mind just went blank.

Surprisingly, Aaron made the first move. His astonished expression melting into a wild grin, his shoulders shaking with a laugh that was almost just as surprising at Jack’s revelation. Infected by his laugh and the beautiful sigh of his dimples, you laughed too, letting your head fall down to his shoulder, your hair shielding your blushing face. You felt him connect his lips to your forehead in a long and gentle kiss. ‘I love you, we’re in this together.’

Your little bubble was finally popped by Garcia’s cooing, instantly followed by the rest of the team’s reactions. There were laughs, amused accusations, heavy (not too heavy, there was a kid there after all) teasing, bribery (Emily and Morgan offered desserts to Jack in order to get more answers), threats of dismissal (Hotch’s reaction to that. He wasn’t serious, though. At least not too serious) and mainly, love. They showed you and him so much support, love and genuine happiness, you started to wonder why you didn’t say anything sooner.

Until later, while all of you walked back to your cars, Morgan and Garcia pulled you to the side, followed by two very eager JJ and Prentiss. He clapped his hands together in front of his torso, and looked at you with a smirk.

“You don’t have to say anything, just tell me when to stop.” and started to slowly pull his hands apart, his eyebrows wiggling at you teasingly.

And then, you remembered.

[unlosts]

goldrush

1.5k words. Based on some posts on @hotchfiles blog about Hotchs wedding ring 🫶

F. Scott Fitzgerald — 'There is a moment—Oh, just before the first kiss, a whispered word—something that makes it worth while.'

Small town motels begin to feel familiar after a while. Even the outdated 70s wallpaper and smoked tinted walls start to blur with the newly renovated minimalist gray walls of the latest chain hotel they’re staying in. 

After ten hours of bureaucratic red tape, hostile locals and hysterical families, the  paper thin mattresses and the softest of egyptian cotton sheets all end up in the same exhausted insomnia. 

And it is in that blur of sameness that you find yourself pressed against the sheets of Hotc - sorry, Aarons bed. 

Your very stoic, very married boss. 

It started in this quaint farmhouse turned B&B somewhere tucked away in Maine, the blood splattered crime scene photos getting lost amongst the garish floral bedspread. 

As strict and unyielding as Hotch was in the day to day you knew his biggest secret; an almost full pack of Marlboro reds tucked away in the smallest pocket of his go-bag accompanied by a baby blue bic lighter stolen from you. Reserved for special occasions, such as a week-long case in the middle of the winter with no end in sight. 

It was on night four that you went to his room to get your lighter back - and possibly to bum a cigarette as well. Light footsteps on the creaking wood, you tiptoed over as if you knew how it would end. 

Before you could even knock the door opened and there he was, stripped of his jacket and tie but still working at midnight, his starched white shirt rumpled from hours sitting at the rickety chair in the room. 

“Hi, wasn’t expecting anyone right now,” he said awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. His eyes firmly planted on yours and not on your very bare legs, covered by blue striped pajama shorts and a faded concert t-shirt.  

“Well, I would be more shocked if you were” you replied with a laugh, crossing your arms against the midnight chill and leaning against the frame of his door “hey listen I’m on a rescue mission here, I know your pack of smokes is more of a ‘in case of emergency bring out the cancer sticks’ sort of deal but my very favorite lighter is sequestered with them and I’ve gone through two packs without it so can I have it back? and also maybe one of your cigs?” you added that last part with a very convincing smile.  

“Right! yes, come on in” Hotch said as he stepped aside so you could come into his room. The pink wallpaper covered floor to ceiling in paisley flowers. 

“Don’t mind the flowers, it seems like they’re multiplying but you get used to them”

“Oh I think that’s just your sleep deprivation speaking,  maybe I’m not even in this room”  As you walked in you took in his room, from the floral wallpaper and matching drapes to the blue fluffy carpet and dark wood furniture. 

“If I were to imagine you I think the last thing you would be doing is stealing my cigarettes” 

“Really? and what is it that I usually do in your imagination” You said, sitting down on his bed, moving around some files.   

He just let out a small laugh, his wedding ring twinkling like a warning sign in the lowlight. 

His laugh is boyish you think startled, a little high pitched at the end like it’s not used to making an appearance.

You try to picture him at your age, even before, early twenties fresh out of law school. His stride not as confident as it is now, less sure of his place in a courtroom than he is in a police precinct ordering around people he’s just met. 

While you were lost in thought he went to rummage through his bag, his usual meticulous order abandoned in favor of quick changes between cat naps and interrogations. 

His back turned, you can freely admire the solid line of his back, muscles stretched under his shirt, and it’s only ever really in these brief moments of solitude that you can admit to yourself that whatever is it that you feel goes well beyond a crush. 

Which is why you should leave, you should get up, tell him you changed your mind and go to your room, forget that you do have a full pack in your nightstand right next to the nice lighter you bought for yourself  a couple of weeks ago, you should… 

“Here” He says handing you the baby blue lighter and a loose cigarette. 

“What, you’re leaving me to smoke by myself?” 

“Like you said, these are ‘in case of emergency only’” 

“Well I think having to deal with Captain Rooney and detective whoever the fuck for almost a week straight constitutes as an emergency, think of them as medicinal cigarettes, kind of like the ones pregnant woman smoked in the 50’s” 

He laughs again, boyish and carefree and you tuck that sound away,  to let it play on a loop in your head later tonight. 

“One” Hotch says, holding up a finger “and then we’ll go to sleep, the last thing I need is you crashing the car because you were too tired to drive straight” 

“God, imagine the paperwork” You reply with a grin. Standing up and walking to the window next to the desk. You notice with a pang that he keeps a picture of Jack there, only a year old, chubby cheeks and thin blonde hair. 

“What are you doing?” He asks as he sees you sitting down on the window ledge. 

“Are you having a stroke? you just said I could smoke one” 

“I didn’t mean right here” Hotch says looking around, as if the crotchety old woman who checked you guys in would pop up from behind the curtains and kick you out for smoking indoors. 

“I cannot believe you’re afraid of a seventy year old retiree, yesterday you stared down that reporter so hard I thought he was going to start crying” You said lighting up and taking a drag  “besides, didn’t you go to boarding school or something? I bet there’s a whole slew of very scandalous stories hiding there” 

As you blow smoke out the window you see him standing there, hands in his pockets. His eyes don’t stray from yours but he’s not avoiding anything, he’s instead searching for something.

The silence stretches on for a few seconds as the smoke slowly billows up, a haze enveloping you both and you could almost pretend that there’s not a picture of Jack right next to you, or even, another picture next to his. Her name carefully and diligently scrubbed out of your thoughts.

Slowly he walks over and sits down right next to you, the fabric of his slacks burning a path on your thigh. Instead of lighting one of himself he takes yours from your hand. 

You see it then, on his left hand,  tarnished gold in the moonlight. And the moment breaks. 

“I think you guys think I was born wearing a tie” 

“Well no you were a baby, it would have been a bowtie” 

“Cute” You bite your lip to hold back a smile, resting your heated cheek in the cold window. 

“Hotch you collected stamps” 

“Coins, actually” You take the cigarette from him, your lips touching the same filter. 

“Oh my bad, they should have locked you up and thrown away the key then” 

“I collected coins, and also regularly snuck out to go to bars” 

At this revelation you do gasp “no! Aaron Hotchner underage drinking? And they let you in the FBI anyway?” 

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t a complete rebel in my youth but at the time it seemed like it, my parents were…strict and boarding school was their last ditch effort to straighten me out” 

“What got you sent to the slammer?” You asked with a quiet upturn of your lips. 

Before answering he looked at you, the light of the moon on the clearest sky you’ve seen yet turning you silver. 

“I kept picking fights” There was something more there but you let him keep that secret, one was enough for tonight. 

After that you finished what was left, the evidence discarded into the night. Yet neither of you moved. 

It was easy to think that you liked Hotch because he was handsome, or smart or even because he was the boss, but in truth when he looked at you it made you feel singularly important, like every stupid joke or straight thought was worth hearing. Even now in the stillness of the night with only your thoughts and the cicadas for company you felt like he knew everything worth knowing about you. 

“Well” you murmured “I should get going” 

“Yes” he replied in the same tone “you should.” 

And yet you stayed, looking at him. You were so close you could count his lashes, could almost touch the few strands of hair that had fallen forward. 

“Goodnight”  He whispered right before kissing you. 

Truly you could have been the one to kiss him, it was impossible knowing who leaned in first, like an asteroid colliding the path was inevitable, only a matter of time. 

Your hands softly cupped his neck as his went to your waist. It felt like you had been doing this for years, like he had been kissing you good morning and goodnight as long as you had known each other. As he leaned more into you, crowding you against the edge of the window seat your hands graced each others and that's when you felt it, hot as lava, his wedding ring a shock to your system making you push away. 

“fuck” This, again, could have been said by either of you. 

Hastily you got up, almost tripping with one of the decorative pillows left on the floor. 

“Anyway, really should get going, we’ll probably be dead on our feet unless we get some shuteye” You said as casually as you could when every place he had touched was still burning bright. 

“Right, of course” His expression was indiscernible, the only thing betraying his thoughts was his left hand, fingers softly touching the wedding band like a mantra. 

As you were leaving you turned back one last time, looking at him still encased in the pale silver light and he was looking back. 

[maybege]

What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas - FBI 12

Summary: A team night in Vegas forces you to make some decisions.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, hopeless yearning but what’s new

We are so back! Parts 13 + 14 are finished and 15 is on its way there so I am hoping to sustain a monthly posting schedule into the new year. This is a classic filler chapter because the filler episodes are always the ones I loved the most. Other than that, we are picking up in speed and tension in the next few parts. Let me know what you think, your comments are the fuel for the creative engine!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Considering the kind of work you did, it was weird to speak about “favourite” case types. But you would be lying if you said that reuniting children with their families was not something that made your heart feel full every time. Like you were proven that the sacrifices this job demanded were always – always – worth it in the end. That they served a purpose.

But no matter how much joy it brought to see little Ryan reunited with his mother after his father suffered a psychotic break, the lack of sleep made you feel like you could sleep for 72 hours straight. Especially since you had been on three back-to-back cases and your phone was filled with voicemails from your mother.

Hotch’s announcement that you would stay in Vegas for the night then came as a welcome distraction to the entire team.

“I am going to take the longest shower the state of Nevada has ever seen,” Garcia announced in the car on your way back to the hotel and you grinned, agreeing with her in your mind.

“I've never actually been to Vegas,” you admitted to JJ who was sitting in the backseat next to you, “Do you guys, like, do you go out or what’s the plan? It sounds like you have a routine going on.”

“The best routine, sweetheart,” Morgan announced from where he was driving. His smiling eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, “And I think it will probably start with you getting that shower you mentioned.”

*

“Let’s do shots! Shots sound like a good idea!”

“Everything sounds like a good idea in Las Vegas,” JJ argued but she did not protest when Emily waved down the waiter.

Three rounds later you were pleasantly buzzed, precariously balancing in your heels as you wandered along the Caesars Mall in a dress that might as well double for a mirror ball. Getting ready with Penelope Garcia had been the most chaotic, wholesome and validating experience of your life and you had left the hotel room feeling beautiful and ready to – in Garcia’s words – conquer the night.

One thing you hadn’t anticipated though was that conquering the night in Las Vegas meant walking. Lots and lots of walking.

The fake cobbled stone made your feet unsteady and you giggled, hooking your arm through Emily’s without another thought. You felt her tense up next to you and looked up, wondering if maybe you had crossed a line. Only it wasn’t Emily who looked back at you.

It was Hotch.

Fear and shock made your eyes widen and you suddenly became very aware of just how close you were to him. How overt this show of affection could be read and how inappropriate you were being considering this was your boss.

Shit shit shit shit.

Your brain immediately went into crisis-solving mode and the first step was crystal clear: Get your hands off your (very attractive) boss.

But then his hand landed on yours, keeping your arm around his and you tried to hide your surprise with a wide smile.

“Let’s go get something to eat!” Rossi announced, well aware that no one on the team would ever deny the idea of food, “I have an old friend who owns a restaurant here. I am sure he would be able to get us a table.”

After everybody showed sufficient amounts of enthusiasm for his plan, the group made their way to the other end of the mall. Which should not be as big of a deal as it was but cobblestones were not your friend today.

“A bit shaky there, hm?” Hotch mumbled when you took a careful step down a small step of stairs, a smirk on his lips that made you feel warm all over, “Should I start to call you Bambi?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, tightening your hold on his arm nonetheless, “I am perfectly fine.”

“You sure you don’t need to be going back to the hotel?” he checked with you but did not sound too concerned when his hand wrapped around yours, guiding you down the last step and following the group.

“No way, sir,” you shook your head, “A night out with the entire team in Vegas? I am not going to miss it for the world.”

His large hand squeezed yours slightly and you saw the soft smile on his lips that made your heart flutter in your chest like a hoard of butterflies. You were both silent as you followed Rossi’s lead and you allowed yourself to take in the atmosphere.

The dim lighting and cool air really did make it feel like you were strolling through some Italian streets at twilight if it weren’t for the several high-end stores that were neatly lined together. But as you crossed the threshold to the casino part of the hotel, the carpeted floor did little to dim the noise of the hundreds of partygoers flocking around the cocktail bars, poker tables and slot machines.

Rossi was right about his friend having a table for your group and before you knew it, you were sipping on a glass of white wine and munching on the most delicious bruschetta you had ever tasted.

“Rossi, have I ever told you you're my favourite?” Derek joked, his mouth still working on the bite of pasta he had just taken.

“Hey!” Garcia exclaimed, delivering a slap to his upper arm, “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you important information no other hacker could provide.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby girl,” he grinned, playfully snapping his teeth at her. Everybody laughed at their antics and you tried to ignore how a particular set of laughter made your thighs clench.

Get your act together, girl.

The dinner was fun, really, and you found that you could not get enough of spending time with the team. There was so much affection, kindness and hilarious banter between them, it reminded you of the found families you studied in your literature courses.

Maybe the BAU was one of those cases in real life.

No one could ever tell you it wasn’t affection that made Rossi order different pasta dishes for everyone at the table or that caused Reid to explain the surface ratio of different pasta types or that had Emily and JJ order not one but two bottles of the house-recommended wine. It was affection that had Garcia put her head on your shoulder when she was drowsy after dinner and it was affection that twinkled in Hotch’s eyes when he asked you if you’d like a dessert.

“I would never say no to some panna cotta,” you spoke truthfully, “Wanna share?”

He stood up, throwing you a smile. “I will get some from the counter up front.”

To avoid looking at him leave (and the formidable form he was making in that dark suit), you pulled out your phone. You never really got to check it while on a case, so your social media feeds were usually full of new stuff you got to scroll through before you came home. You watched Josh post about some dinners and spotted the @thefabulousamber tag that appeared several times in his stories. And there was John posting some pictures about a run along the river and your school friends, all reuniting back home.

“Interesting,” a deep voice rumbled behind you, “tell me, what exactly are we looking at?”

You turned in your chair, spotting Hotch. He was standing behind you, leaning down to watch what you wanted to show him on your phone and your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips ghost over your ear. He was so close. His hands landed on the table in front of you, effectively caging you in and yet you made no move to shy away from him.

 “It’s a cat video,” you said to him with a smile, “look how cute it is!”

“Very cute indeed,” he smiled, looking down at you, “Do you have any cats at home?”

“I wish,” you sighed, “but Josh is allergic and I don’t know if I can justify getting a cat when I am gone all the time.”

“Sounds like you are not really settled.”

“Huh?”

“You’re the newest member of our team and are not from here. A pet usually symbolizes a commitment to one��s current life aside from romantic or platonic relationships.”

“You don’t have any pets.”

“I have a child,” he reminded you before you both burst into laughter at the sight of Reid trying to juggle six different wine corks.

*

It wasn’t even five hours later that your alarm blared in your ears and Garcia – where had she even come from? And especially when? – stirred next to you.

“Five more minutes,” she grumbled, mistakenly patting on your legs in search of her glasses, “Please.”

You squinted your eyes at the display of your phone, trying to ignore the stale taste in your mouth. “I don’t think we have five more minutes,” you stated, forcing yourself out of bed. Why was everything turning?

Oh no, that was you.

You landed with a thud on your knees, the vibration travelling from your joints to your head and you groaned. “I will never drink again,” you muttered. Pressing your hands to your closed eyes, somehow dulled the throbbing in your head.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

You could do this. One step at a time. Time … What was it about time that was so important?

Your head shot up, “We need to leave in like 30 minutes.”

“Oh shit,” you could hear the rustling of the bed sheets as Penelope rolled alone, unsteadily landing on her feet, still wearing her yellow tights from the night before, “Let’s go, bestie, we have bags to pack!”

No training in the world could have prepared you for packing your bags, brushing your teeth and downing three glasses of water within 25 minutes. By the time you had made it down to the lobby and into the cars, you were convinced others could hear your head pound which was why Emily offered you the painkiller before popping one in herself.

All in all, it seemed the entire team was a little worse for wear as you filed into the plane.

All except for one.

“You know the German word for hangover Kater translates into cat but actually it comes from the Old-Greek Katarhh which means to have a cold and was commonly used by 19th century philosophy students after indulging too much.”

“Oh, shut up, Reid,” you groaned, “You drank just as much. How can your head still be this functional?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt bad. Spencer looked at you like a kicked puppy and you sighed. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, reaching out your hand to pat his knee where he was sitting opposite you, “That was uncalled for.”

The leather of the seat next to you creaked and even with your headache, you recognized the shape and warmth of your boss instantly. His upper arm brushed against yours, the fabric of his suit jacket warming against your bare skin.

Your heart skipped a beat at seeing the smile on his lips. Aaron Hotchner, for just the barest of seconds, looked genuinely happy like this and you wondered what he was thinking, what he was seeing. Whether he listened to how Rossi kept talking about some pasta dish you’d never heard of, hands gesturing as he talked to Garcia, or if he was watching Reid and JJ trading plane reads or watching Emily try and get a hold of her cat sitter.

“I’ve heard water is supposed to help.”

You flinched when his voice sounded much too close to your ear, his breath washing down the side of your neck and making you dream of scenarios where his mouth was so close to your neck for other reasons.

“Don’t scream at me,” you mumbled, holding your forehead. There was an uncharacteristic grin on his face that made you want to squint your eyes at him. He seemed so … bright.

“I gather it’s been a long night?”

“Do not come between Penelope Garcia and a bottle of tequila,” you muttered,” just don’t.”

“I could say the same about Rossi and a good whiskey.”

“You don’t look as if you had that long of a night.”

“I drank my water,” he teased, closing the file in front of him, “And admittedly a few more years of practice are worth everything when you drink with either of them.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you hummed, leaning back against the soft seat, “at least we have our own private jet. Thank God for the American taxpayer.”

Hotch didn’t say anything but when you opened your eyes again he was looking at you – and smiling. Aaron Hotchner was smiling at you. You felt the blood rush into your face and you tried to sit up a little straighter, a wave of nausea crashing over you and you whimpered. You’d never ever drink after a case with her again. How did Derek survive until now?

“Here,” you opened your eyes to the sight of a thick hand pushing a glass of water to you on the table, “Drink some more.”

You hid your smile against the rim of the glass.

Maybe everything would change for the better now.

*

Six days later, though, your happiness was shattered into a thousand pieces. Apparently, Aaron Hotchner took What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas literally. Because not only did he act like your flirtation (if you could even call it that) never happened – which was something you had expected all along – but he also acted as if your friendship did not exist.

You were not sure what hurt worse: the fact that you allowed yourself to dream about what this could mean or the fact that he seemed so unaffected by pretending things had never changed from three months ago.

You found yourself floating into the office each morning with a smile, hoping that maybe he was just in a bad mood. That his little comments would start again. That he would correct you when you called him Sir. And each evening, you found yourself sitting at your desk, shoulders falling inwards as you started your way home with a feeling of dread in your belly.

It was not long before the doubt crept back in. Did something happen that made him think you were unworthy, not necessarily of this job, but of him? And why did it matter to you anyway? Yes, he was a good-looking (very good-looking) man whose voice sent shivers down your spine and who made more than one appearance in your dreams, sure. But that did not mean you deserved to let the whims of course crush dictate the way your day was going.

Or your job, for that matter.

Either way, it was absolute bullshit and after another day during which he simply passed your desk without so much as a “Good morning” you found yourself googling flights to Idaho and dialling a number you knew by heart since the age of five.

“Hi, hun,” your mother greeted you on the side of the phone, “How are you doing?”

“Hi Mom,” you mumbled as you clicked on the first available flight, “About that visit we were talking about … how soon can I come?”