Bricks and Mortar (G)
by @sequinsmile-x
chapter 1/1
tags: house hunting, established relationship, domestic fluff
Now that it was real and within her grasp, she often got lost in the fantasy of it. She’d often lie in bed at night, pressed up against Aaron, her fingers brushing through his hair as he snored against her collarbone and she’d think about it. She’d imagine what their life would look like in a few years, she’d try to picture the faces of the children she so desperately wanted, and for the first time in her life, dreaming about it all didn’t hurt.
She just wished she knew what their home would look like for all of it.
he knelt to the ground (G)
by @leavemurph
chapter 1/1:
tags: drunk texting, idiots in love, open ending
There was never anything. Not even the vague shape of a thing. Not a drunken maybe. Not a middle school note with boxes to tick. No implied subtext scribbled in the margins.
Just a long, unclaimed maybe. A slow-cooked almost.
And now he's sealing it off. Quietly. Signing away rights to a thing that technically never existed. It's deranged, honestly, how sad that makes him.
what's in a name (T)
by @ssaemilyhotchner
chapter 1/1
tags: panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, post-ep: s12e01
“Shit, Emily, what time is it for you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” but she hears him curse again and she knows he’s done the math. She can picture him clearly, slipping his guilt back on like a shroud.
“What was I supposed to do?” she asks, heading it off. “Not take your call? Leave you to spiral on your own? I can’t do that, Aaron. ‘I’m having a bad day.’ Remember? Our deal didn’t stop when—”
When our relationship did. When I said goodbye.
Out of the Blue (G)
by @hotchnissonly
chapter 1/1
tags: emily and jack, reunions, jealous beth clemmons
The voice was unmistakable—warm, and bright, and familiar in a way that was completely and utterly impossible.
Because that voice belonged to a little boy with a mop of golden hair and a laugh that could shatter the darkest mood. It did not belong here, in a lobby in central London at four in the morning.
That voice belonged in Virginia. That voice was in Virginia.
Except it wasn’t. Because it was here and it was wrapped in her arms, solid and real and clinging to her like he’d never let go.
TRACKING #WEEKLYHOTCHNISS ❖ NEED A FIC REC?