#haley necklaces

[kaahmbem]

first meeting

[jubmato]

girl f rienss................. 🩷

quick scribbles of my stardew valley farmer & haley HEHEHEHE.... im playing stardew for the first time and im OBSESSED with her. she is everything 2 me. she let me dance with her at the dance and i screamed out loud in a discord vc. im SICK

[ghirahimbo]

got a closet Haley cosplay for the Stardew Valley symphony tomorrow night!! so excited 😊

[they-call-me-veral]

Beach bitch

[ajaxbread]

Haley, courtesy of the non-weirdest ad I’ve gotten on tumblr

The ad in question:

[luveline]

I love ur writing 💕 can I request something where reader is dense sortof/has low self esteem, so she likes hotch, admires him and would love to date him but can't imagine he would view her that way,, so he has to be really obvious with his advances? Not self indulgent at all 👉👈 no worries if not. Love u!

Hotch has to break the news that he’s been pursuing you. fem, 2k

Hotch would like to call you unassuming in the kindest way possible. Unassuming, in that not everyone who looks at you would find themselves immediately aware of your beauty (an old-fashioned way to put it, and true), because your poor self esteem leaves you shy. 

You don't believe anyone would want you. It doesn’t matter to Hotch beyond a weary heartbreak for you, as he doesn’t mind if it takes time to convince you. He only wishes you’d have more confidence. You’re pretty and you deserve to know it. 

“Hello,” he says, with intent to try again. 

You like him. He’s a grown man and a good judge of character, better of action, and he’d like to think that your sudden grimace whenever he speaks is again this cloud of insecurity rather than a true dislike for him. You have to warm up to him every day, but you do warm. 

“Hi, Hotch.” 

And listen, he’s not one to flirt at work, but if he ever wants a real shot with you, he has to be heavy-handed. “Hi,” he repeats, smiling, “how are things today?” 

You’re assistant office administrator for the BAU, and so Hotch isn’t technically your boss, but you do work beneath him. “Things are the same as always.” 

“Not too hard for you, then.” 

You catch his teasing, which is a new development. “Not too hard for me,” you say.

He doesn’t pretend he has reason to hang around. He thinks it might’ve contributed to you not believing he’s interested; he’d drop by with coffee because you seemed tired, or checked in on issues that didn’t need his supervision, and you’d taken every extra minute spent at your door as his attentiveness to his job, rather than an affection for you.

He stands with his hand on the doorway and just looks at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“You look beautiful today.” 

You touch the button at your neck. “It’s too much for work.” 

“No.” You’re wearing normal business casual clothing. You’ve pulled a necklace over your sweater, soft collar of a shirt kissing your throat. He imagines you’re wearing regular pants and flats or maybe a skirt and short heels beneath the desk, it doesn’t matter. “It’s not just what you’re wearing. You look pretty.” 

You could catch flame if something sparked near you. Lost, your lips part, and eventually you squeeze out a timid, “Thank you, Hotch.” 

 “Aaron.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Can we get coffee?” He dislikes the panic in your eyes and regrets how casual he sounded. “Can I get you a coffee?” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Well, maybe we can take lunch together?” 

“Have I done something?” 

“Have you?” he asks. 

He feels… young. Haley was the only woman he’d been with at a time, and casually there have been others now, but you’re the first woman he’s attempted to woo like this. He sometimes forgets that you’re shy and that he’s been married, distracted by his fizzing, almost joyful feelings for you. Flirting with you is a pleasure. 

You lick your lips quickly. “Where did you want to go? For lunch?” 

He was thinking you could bring your sandwich to his desk, but what you’re asking is a thousand times better. “Where do you want to go? Melanie’s?” he suggests. 

You breathe out in a strange laugh. “For lunch?” 

No, perhaps not. It’s rather fancy. “Somewhere nice, at least,” he says. 

“I don’t know where’s nice.” 

“Well, we can find somewhere. I’ll try to find somewhere before one, what do you think?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles. “Okay.” 

He’s pulling away from the doorway when you stand up from your rolling chair and say his name, a near yelp, “Hotch! Wait, uh, wait a second.” 

He immediately turns back. “What?” he asks, giving you a quick once over. 

“Are you sure I’m not in trouble for something?” you ask. To your credit, you give a bashful little laugh. “I feel like I’m walking into a trap.” 

“I have no intentions of trapping you anywhere.” 

“Please don’t fire me at Melanie’s.” 

He smiles at you again and leaves your alcove of the office to head back to his own. Around the desks and the bullpen where his team sit doing their paperwork, up the stairs to the landing. He pauses before he goes inside.

JJ’s standing behind Derek’s desk. They’re chatting, JJ sipping at a mug, a small smile on her lips. Spencer watches her from his own desk. He doesn’t like her anymore to Hotch’s knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling at her with that slight thread of lovelorn shyness when she asks him what he’s so busy doing. 

Hotch has a moment of clarity at his desk when he realises he needs to find somewhere perfect to take you come lunch time. You hadn’t seemed convinced of your job security when he’d left you, and he spends some time pondering how best to accommodate you as he sorts thought Quantico’s best cafes and restaurants. 

He has emails to answer, phone calls to take, and to make. Time moves quickly, and by 1:02 he’s all sorts of late. It’s almost 1:12PM when he’s again at your office door, a warm plastic bag against his side. 

You’re looking at your lap. Coat in your hands, lip nibbled raw, there’s an internal conversation happening that he’s not privy to. He doubts he’d like it very much —the agony of self-doubt is written plainly in your slouch. 

He knocks your door, feeling very sorry for your startled jump. “Hi. Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I thought I’d bring dinner to you.” 

He thought of it like this: if he were to take you to dinner, you could explain it away as a professional superior who was going to fire you and changed his mind, or a superior checking in on his employee, or a superior simply being kind. He has, on occasion, taken different members of his team or office out to discuss things in their lunch hours because he was busy and needed their time at a convenient hour. You might not think anything of it. 

Right now, Hotch really wants you to think something of it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Is that okay with you, if we stay here?” 

It’s a little much for you, apparently. You finally tip into incredulity. “Aaron, is everything alright? I really don’t understand what’s going on.” 

“I’d like to eat lunch together.”

“But why?” 

“Because you’re good company.” He’s sat knee to knee with serial killers, and his next sentence is still scary, “Because I like you, and I’m not sure how else to show it.” 

You press your coat to your stomach, frowning. “You like me.” 

“I was under the impression that you liked me too,” he says, smiling despite you and himself. Hotch might be a drill sergeant and a bully all those terrible moody stations as a boss, but he’s also just a man, and there’s little room for stoicism in love. 

“But you…” 

He waits, but then feels too sorry for you to let you flounder. “Honey, I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve tried compliments, I brought you that plant,” —he points to the still blooming orchid on your window— “I ask you what your plans are every weekend.” He looks swiftly behind him. Alone, he edges into your office to close the door and allow some privacy. “And every weekend I ask you if you want to get a drink. I’d think you didn’t like me if it weren’t for your tell.” 

“What’s my tell?” 

Your hand. Whenever he’s around, you take something into your hand and squeeze at it or feel it like you’re going to explode with nerves. He saves you the explanation, and instead lays his most gentle look on you. “If I’m wrong, please let me know. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but you’re lovely.”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you say, semi-disbelieving. “You never do. I'm just confused.” 

“I’d really like to get to know you as more than a colleague.”

“You know me,” you mumble. 

He does. He knows what your favourite colour is, your favourite food, your soccer team. He sent you flowers on your birthday, asks after your sick neighbour, and checks your office light every night when he goes home, though he knows what time you leave each evening. And he knows that you’re scared to admit to liking him or anyone, because you worry you’re not allowed. 

“I do,” he agrees, giving the plastic bag a jostle. He doesn’t need big answers now. “Can I sit down?” 

You might not have a big answer to give, but your expression tells a story nonetheless. You wheel your seat backward and he pulls a spare chair toward your desk, your smile like an adornment as you push aside your things to make room. You smile so hard it changes your entire face. 

“Do you have napkins?” you ask, not so subtly breathless as he places the bag down and pushes the plastic back. 

He pulls out a wedge of them. You pinch them, and for a second the both of you hold them, your eyes meeting, your cheeks appled with matching smiles. 

“I thought the orchid was for secretary’s day,” you say quietly, taking the napkins. 

“You aren’t a secretary,” he says, holding out a plastic fork. 

When you go to grab it, he moves it up out of the way. Your startled laugh is beautiful. Totally stunning. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted the quiet intimacy of teasing you over lunch until he had it. 

You grab the fork before he can move it again. “Too slow,” you say. 

“Oh, you think so?” he asks. 

“I know so, Aaron. Who has the fork?” 

Aaron, he thinks. Finally, Aaron. “You have the fork, but I have your lunch. I’d tread carefully if I were you.” 

[moonferry]

i saw someone say abby would get the mermaid pendant tattooed on her so she could explore the mines without losing it SO here's how i think the other marriagables would wear their pendant:

* sebastian makes it into an earring

* elliott makes it into an earring or a fancy hair clip.

* harvey doesn't ACTUALLY wear it, he simply keeps it in the left side pocket of his shirt (so you can be as close to his heart as possible)

* shane makes it into a bracelet and probably adds some charms to represent the two of you (and maybe jas + marnie)

* haley wears it as a necklace or makes it into a ring (or gets a ring version because she doesn't want to damage the actual shell)

* sam paints it onto his guitar. he also wears it around his neck (it becomes one of the two necklaces he never takes off, the other being kent's dog tags)

* alex keeps his in a safe spot in the farmhouse. he instead chooses to wear a different type of jewelry or accessory (he also got you a matching version <3. what it is depends on his mood for the day.)

* penny made her's into a brooch and wears it underneath her teaching name tag.

* maru made it into an anklet (she doesn't want it dangling and getting caught in her machines as she works)

* leah added it to a keychain & often hangs it from her tool belt when she's carving. pretty sure there's some wood shavings inside it now. oops.

* emily adds several crystals and makes the pendant into a better necklace. all the crystals represent love and prosperity in some way.

* abby, of course, would get it tattooed because i really liked that idea.

[thatonegreenleaf]

♡ THATONEGREENLEAF CC/CAS ROOM UPDATE NOTES ♡

a (sorted by date) list of stuff that's been updated, what was fixed, and when (dd/mm/y) so I can pin it to my page! please make sure you are using the most recent versions of something before reporting any issues! thanks :) I appreciate you!!

-

♡ haley hair - updated 12/6/24. replaced incorrect normals map.

♡ blake hair - updated 13/7/24. fixed missing masculine/feminine body frame tags.

♡ aiysha hair (V1) - updated 8/8/24/ fixed a small missing texture on the underside of the hair. updated 10/8/24. fixed an issue with bone assignments causing game crashes and invisible glass textures.

♡ solana hair - updated 17/9/24. fixed a textural oversight.

♡ modern minimalism CAS room - updated 19/9/24. made compatible with dx11.

♡ vampire's study CAS room - updated 19/9/24. made compatible with dx11.

♡ witch's woods CAS room - updated 19/9/24. made compatible with dx11.

♡ cerise earrings - updated 1/10/24. fixed an issue caused by a recent game update that caused the earrings to explode when worn.

♡ jane hair - updated 1/10/24. fixed some of the brown hair textures to look nicer. updated 4/10/24. fixed a minor texture oversight.

♡ forget me not necklace - updated 25/10/24. fixed an issue with mesh dependencies.

♡ the mask set - updated 25/10/24. fixed an issue with mesh dependencies.

[ssahotchnerr]

heyyy! i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is part of the bau, and their favourite bracelet breaks on a case so aaron offers to fix it for them on the plane? love love love your stuff btw!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

the small things

instead of a bracelet i went with a necklace i hope that's alright <3 cw; nothing but fluff, aaron is down bad hehe

every day you took the chance, and you knew it was stupid.

your favorite necklace. your most prized possession. deep down you knew you shouldn't wear it in the field, but the need to have it overruled your caution.

despite being hidden behind the safety of your vest, the chain had given out, snapping amidst the rush of chasing an unsub. you were lucky your vest was so tightly pressed against your body; while it's sole purpose was to protect you from the imminent threat of danger, it's snugness prevented the necklace from slipping onto the ground unnoticed. instead, it had noticeably dropped onto the floor of the suv as you were freeing yourself afterwards.

you felt partially silly for feeling upset over it, it being such a small thing, but it held a lot of sentimental value. a day literally hadn’t gone by where you haven’t worn it.

it helped you think- rolling it between your fingers as you pondered over a difficult profile, or found yourself doing the same in times of stress. most importantly, it made you feel safe. and given your job title, you would take as much of that as you could get.

and aaron noticed.

he noticed it as you became accustomed to the team in the very beginning, every day after that, every time he talked to you. so as you all were packing up to leave the department, it wasn't hard to miss- it's absence was loud. so was the sadness in your eyes, and the strain in your voice as you casually talked to jj, trying to act as if nothing were troubling you.

it was a part of you, familiar. so he could only imagine how you currently felt.

"so," aaron started, taking the open seat to your left. you had secluded yourself from the others, giving yourself the opportunity to wallow alone on the jet ride home. "i know- it's not much, but. do you still have it? your necklace?"

you gave him an almost questionable look, but nodded a yes.

aaron's eyes were soft, trusting as always, but he still asked- needing the permission to handle something that held so much meaning to you. "may i?"

you sat up slightly from your slouched position, granting you the room to fish the necklace from your jean pocket. the broken sight of it caught you off guard again, just as the initial discovery of it's broken state did earlier in the day. you felt a tad sick to your stomach, the object being on your person, for years- more than you could count- brought down to nothing but a scrap piece of jewelry.

nonetheless, you still dropped it into his open palm.

"i thought this could work, for the meantime." aaron narrated as he reached into his suit pocket himself, obtaining a small safety pin. very carefully, he threaded the small needle through the chain, before doing the same on the opposite end. he gestured for you to turn, and you twisted in your seat upon his instruction.

his breath was warm on the back of your neck as he spoke, fastening the safety pin to a close. "again, i know it's not mu-"

"no." you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. the necklace now hung lower on your chest than you were used to, but it was secure. and right back where it belonged.

to say the least, you were extremely touched, turning back around to face him. you were nearly speechless, finding it hard to form words. "it's perfect. thank you."

the corners of aaron's lips twitched, pulling into a smile. "i know of a good jeweler. he was haley's go-to back in the day, and i still have the number somewhere in one of her old phone books. he's an old friend, so he'll do this as a favor. you won't need to worry about a cost or anything."

your eyes softened more if it were possible. "no, hotch. i-"

"no." he threw your word right back at you, nothing but kindness in his eyes. "trust me. it's the small things, right?"

his words took you by surprise, a soft breath leaving you. suddenly, the world didn't seem as dark. "yeah, it is."

he nodded, his mouth drawing into another small smile as his eyes left yours.

"i'm sorry it broke." his words left him in a mumble, and from the solemn, regretful tone present, one would think he was at fault for your necklace breaking.

sweet man.

you clasped onto his hand, giving it a tight squeeze and causing his brown eyes to meet yours yet again. you held onto the eye contact, not allowing him to tear his gaze away. "thank you for fixing it, aaron. really."

[hotchfiles]

↪ day eight. choices — #marchhotchness

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [tell me to regret it] ❞

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: aaron prides himself of making good choices. until he makes one he regrets. content warnings: not proofread, pretty sure only one gender mark (miss) by the very very end, a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, happy ending. light mention of sex. word count: 1.1k

      At first, Aaron prided himself on making good choices, at least after graduating high school. All his choices were thought out to the best outcome. His major, Law School, his job, Haley. 

      He then prided himself on standing by his choices. Even if the outcome wasn’t the best. Even if it wasn’t the easiest choice to make, he stood by them. He took the bullet, he accepted the consequences.  

      When Haley filed for a divorce he wanted to fight it, he did, but Aaron knew she had spent too much of her life dealing with his choices. He knew it wasn’t fair for her to fight for a broken marriage because his career was too important to him.

      Every single day he chose to pick up the phone, he chose to leave, he chose to work after hours. So he signed the divorce papers, letting her free to make her own life decisions. 

      Whenever the BAU faced repercussions for their actions on the field on any cases, he took the heat at all times, the eyes of the higher ups were always on him and he took advantage of that to let the team work more freely. If needed, he would take the fall and it would’ve been his choice. And he would be happy with it. 

      There was one decision though, one choice that he made that kept heaving on his mind. He made it, he thought it was the right one at the time and he was living through the consequences. 

      Still every time he saw your eager eyes or heard you laughing at something Emily said, that sharp pang in his heart would take his mind to the last time you truly talked.

      So much so he ended up calling you to his office, not thinking clearly, not planning it out. He just heard your voice at the end of the day, happy, laughing, apparently not suffering from the distance he had chosen to put between you two and for once he was selfish with every intention to be so. 

      “Need help with anything, boss?” The title tastes bitter in your tongue and it hits Aaron just the same. He was Hotch. And then Aaron. Old man. Babe and love. Never boss.

      Boss came after he told you your relationship couldn’t go on. It would hurt your career and his. Boss was now the only way you referred to him, as that was what he chose to be. 

      His attempts to lock eyes with you don’t go unnoticed, but they remain unfruitful as you focus on his desk and your fingers fidget with your necklace. 

      “Not exactly… I–I just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t spoken privately in a while.” Your eyes immediately find his, the hurt and the anger filling them in a way he never saw before, he felt it piercing through his soul and he almost regrets not thinking it through before calling you in. Almost.  

      “There’s a reason for that. We don’t have anything to discuss privately.” 

      “Does it have to be like this?” 

      “I don’t understand, what do you want me to say, Hotchner? That we can be friends? Pretend nothing ever happened between us?” You’re both glad the door behind you is closed, even if it’s late and everyone has left by now. Your voice is slightly raising more and more with each response you give him.

      That’s not what he wants, he selfishly wants to hear your voice crack while speaking to him, he wants you to tell him you miss him, to force out of his tongue what he desperately needs to tell you: That he regrets the choice he made that night.

      He regrets being afraid when you never were. That he’s sorry he pushed you away when you were always an open book. That seeing you seemingly happy and moving right on with your life was killing him because he couldn’t even begin to think of doing the same. 

      Aaron glances quickly at his window to make sure once more that the bullpen is empty and gets up, getting just close enough that you won’t leave. “Don’t you miss me? U–Us?” Funnily enough, his voice is the one cracking up as he speaks. 

      “Aaron, don’t be cruel.” Your voice is barely a whisper, not similar to the one you showed him minutes before, your eyes divert from him again, knowing that if you look at him too much you might tear up and that’s not you. 

      “I’m not doing that.” 

      “You are. You sleep with me, tell me you love me. You push me away, break up with me. And now this? Just… Don’t.” It hits him sharper than a knife how hard he hurt you then. He’s a profiler, he should’ve noticed it, instead he chose to notice only the happy smiley façade you put up to work every day so you could face him. 

      He usually wouldn’t do this in the middle of an argument but maybe he needs to start reevaluating how he makes his choices and this is one of those, so he pulls your hand and although you flinch at his touch you don’t pull away, so he hugs you tight, your arms are dead limbs by your side but his are strong around you, as is his cologne filling your senses, both bring you that familiar feel of safety. 

      “I’ve been foolish, and afraid and selfish. And possibly a handful of other adjectives. But I would never purposefully be cruel to you.” Aaron pulls away from the embrace only slightly, taking your face with both his hands so you can see how true his words are by the look on his eyes. You begin to feel your arms again, sliding them up to his chest where you feel the rapidness of his heartbeat. “I miss you, give me a chance to try this again?” 

      You’re not certain it will work, but you know that he means his words. And you know your heart is beating just as fast as his because just being embraced by him meant everything. So you nod once slowly, seeing his lips turn into a grin as he pulls you into a gentle kiss. 

      His lips taste like hope, hope he won’t make any decision he will regret again. But mostly, it tastes like cheap coffee, which causes you to laugh into the kiss. 

      “Is this all because I stopped bringing you coffee from the coffee shop?” Aaron laughs out loud, a laughter unlikely to be heard by most people, but then again, you are not most people. He shakes his head in disbelief at what you’re saying and licks his lips. 

      “You’re getting way too good at noticing details, miss liaison.” 

      “Just when it comes to you.”

[sosuperawesome]

Pride Necklaces // Haley Nicole on Etsy

[superpyodan]

I drew it.

not pictured are the pattern on the shirt i was wearing & my stupid jewellery. but you can’t tell me that this outfit ISN’T kenny-coded?!!?? like, hello?!!??!

(did the tank top originally belong to alex? place your bets now.)

haley means well 😭❤️ she just cannot hide her disappointment.

got myself dressed today and thought “wow, this is the worst outfit of all time, who allowed me to look like this” and now that i’m deeping it… i look like Kenny. i can imagine kenny wearing this exact outfit. unfortunately.

i don’t know how to describe what i’m wearing but just know that 1. i’m wearing jorts and 2. i look like im about to go fishing

kenny’s not my self insert but i fear i may be becoming HIS. in a universe where stardew valley is the true reality

i may have to draw this 😭

[nyc-looks]

Haley, 25

“I’m wearing Vivienne Westwood tights, a thrifted American Apparel skirt, orange grip gloves by the German brand Roeckl, and a bubble bag from Sora. The pearl necklace I’m wearing was made by me and the watermelon pendant necklace is by Raph’s Made It which I got here at Park Mart. I’m a musician, and I like to visually reflect my sound in my personal style which I would describe as elegant, playful, and vulnerable.”

Aug 19, 2023 ∙ Bushwick

[stardewremixed]

So... I was scrolling through fanart which turned into impromptu stream-of-consciousness writing prompts. I hope you like how it turned out.

WARNING: (Mild) smut, references to alcohol, drugs, and smoking. (Does not assume Farmer's gender).

Abigail - Organizes the town charity softball games, breaks a few windows (and a few hearts). Tough girl to hide her insecurities - you know the ones - her parents don't get her or support her and she's lonely as an only child (still living at home with her parents). She has this smug side smile when she's got you right where she wants you and will argue with you over trivial matters because she has to be right. She pitches in when there's a town disaster, the first to roll up her sleeves, not afraid to get dirty and work hard. Would absolutely be the tank in your DnD party. She dominates no matter what sphere she's in, including the bedroom. And Abigail is as wild and adventurous in bed as she is out of it. Oh and you always do it at the farmhouse because she's loud (and her parents are light sleepers).

Penny - shy and sweet as usual, intimidated by the ladies of the town, especially Abigail and Haley. Always carrying books, keeps her head down, and her heart is plagued by being the daughter of an alcoholic and a sailor who abandoned her mom. Dreams of a Beast to rescue her Beauty, would kill (metaphorically) for that library and yellow ball gown, but doesn't actually believe she's that pretty, even though she's stunning and educated and articulate, when she's not stumbling over her words in painful shyness. Reads everything she can get her hands on. Would write a children's novel if she could ever work up the courage to ask Elliott to be her editor. She is the blushy kind of lover and reads up on tips and tries to apply what she's learned. You think it's freaking adorable when she asks for 'sex lessons.'

Haley is not a natural blond (*gasp*) - we know! We were shocked too. She's notoriously vain but it's to make up for the fact that her mother was a supermodel and never had time to be a real mom, so she desperately wants attention and to be noticed as beautiful and worthy. Critiques her nose, the shape of her breasts, her thighs, her brows, her hair style, and hopes to someday love herself as much as her mirror does. Got the Dino tattoo on her lower back as a drunken dare from Emily and now she kinda likes it because it makes her not so perfect for once and that's a relief. She wears the best lingerie - pretty, feminine, lacy. And her fantasy she shares with you after a few too many Cosmopolitans? To do it in front of a full length mirror.

Emily - yes the girl absolutely presses paste jewels on her face because why not? She's the cool big sis (stepsister of Haley). The free spirit. Blue hair. Who cares? Other people's opinions don't really define her. Always wearing multiple necklaces and bracelets and rings. This girl has rings. Believes in crystal healing. Lets her sleeve slip off her shoulder after one too many drinks at half-price karaoke nights. She gives you that side-eye, daring you to take her home. And this girl has got some freaky passion (in a good way of course) and yes, she's flexible. It's not that she is really into one night stands, but she doesn't get hung up on the morality of sex. She just goes where the wind blows and enjoys every moment. No expectations. No labels. Just serious fun.

Maru - is a powerhouse genius with a sort of perma-frown on her face when she's concentrating that's somehow annoyingly cute. It's never quite good enough - whatever she happens to be working on. She has those glorious thick curls always bouncing around as she moves from project to project with eager determination. Summer humidity might create the great frizz storm, but she's too focused to bother taming it. Her rims keep it out of her eyes. Always a gadget or two in this girl's hands and she doesn't mind the Inspector jokes. She is far too serious about science and technology to worry about (or even notice) the random taunts of a more average intelligence population. But just because she's super smart doesn't mean she isn't kind. It just might take her longer to notice you, but that hyperfixation, those beautiful eyes, when they are on you, it's really special.

Leah- when doesn't she have paint on her nose? Dried clay on her clothes? Ink beneath her fingernails? Art is her life and the forest outside her door is a veritable landscape of dreams, the mountain tat on her sleeve a mere imitation. Her thick and wild red braid flows free and swishes back and forth as she moves and every once in a while she gets self-conscious. She knows she is pretty but she would rather have someone notice and appreciate her art. But there's something super sexy about the half-buttoned shirt, suspenders, and the nervous tuck of hair over her ear. People fall in love with her everyday but not everyone stays, as she's learned. Still she perseveres and pursues her love of art, capturing raw, pure moments away from her former bustling city life. When you offered to pose for her and be a subject for her art, it wasn't initially meant to be sexual. But she couldn't hide the flicker of interest in her eyes. And then a few weeks later when you finally kissed good night in her doorway, it was like a fire had been released. You tore each other's clothes off and did it right there standing up, then again halfway to the bed and finally made it to the bed for the third round.

Sebastian - the wild, just-rolled-outta-bed hair that's too long and his mother is always saying he should cut it, but he doesn't listen, just like the warnings she gives about the cigs perched between his lips ("those things will kill ya"). Multiple piercings, skulls on shirts, arm bands, the ripped hoodies - all symbols of his rebellious youth carried on because he can't shake the ghosts of his past. Secretly afraid that he is just a teenage boy trapped in an adult body. Hiding behind clouds of smoke and blue glowing screens make it easier to deal with the fact that he didn't follow his dreams. Freelance programmer. Dungeon master. Designing s video game. Lives in his mom's unfinished basement because it's quiet and Maru used to be scared of the dark. So when he does surface and you remember he's alive, it's actually a big deal. He made an effort and when you thank him, he just shrugs in that sexy casual way and says he wanted to see you today. It's simple but so meaningful. He's quiet but he loves you in simple ways - stealing glances from his computer, using coupons to buy your favorite foods at Pierre's, and delivering a piece of furniture you bought at his mom's shop (and conveniently 'forgot' so he would have to bring it to you, and he knows this and did it anyway). Oh and there was the time your computer crashed in the middle of the night (yes, really) and you were in the middle of applying for a farm grant and thought you lost everything you'd been working on for weeks, and you cried and called him, and he came over to fix it and recovered the data. And you may have made out and landed in bed together after (it was a dark and stormy night and the rain is like an aphrodisiac for you). You apologized a dozen times and said this isn't what you called him for and it wasn't supposed to be a midnight booty call. He laughs and kisses you gently and says he wouldn't have minded it if it was because he's wanted you badly for so long. And you went for round 2.

Sam has so much energy, too much, and he usually channels it into making mix tapes, half-finishing songs, pranking Morris and Shane at JojaMart, and skating half-pipe. But if you thought he was an empty airhead, think again. Behind the beanies, cut off sleeves, and ripped jeans, the crazy hair, and goofy smiles, there's a heart of gold. He will kneel down and tie Vincent's shoes for the five hundredth time, even though his kid bro should know by now how to do it. He'll carry those groceries all the way back to Evelyn's house for her, chattering about animal shapes in the cloud and a wicked sweet song he heard on the radio. Maybe someday he will write a jingle for the airwaves too. He will work a double shift so Shane can take Jas to swim lessons or the dentist or because Marnie was irresponsible again and left his god niece alone again late at night. And he will always buy his friends a round at the Saloon. Even if he's broke and spent all his coin on some vintage rock vinyls and the sugary cereal obsession of the week. He's a kid at heart, but he rocks hard and loves hard. That youthful exuberance is just what you need - bubble baths with rubber ducks, half-burnt pizza, dollar stor rose petals, and (root) beers in bed, making you giggle when he gives you foot massages, and tickling you with his tongue (oh yes, he knows all your sweet spots)!

Harvey may be older and mild-mannered, but he remembers little details about all his patients, whom he has come to know as friends and surrogate family. He never met his dad, his mom passed when he was a kid, and he was raised by his grandpa on canned pork and beans, microwave dinners, and model planes. His grandpa was a man of a few words, but they would paint models every evening. Sometimes they'd go out to the airstrip and watch planes take off and Grandpa would reminisce about the "good Ole days" when he still flew in the Air Force. And he always wore ties so the doc has kept up the tradition, and he still wears the coats with the elbow patches that smell of pipe tobacco and peppermint. And even though grandpa has been gone for a dozen or so years, Harvey still paints models most evenings. And every once in a while, he drives out to that airstrip with you to watch the planes while eating tunafish and pickle sandwiches and sipping wine in paper cups. And when he holds your hand, when he puts his arm around you, when he makes love to you, it's like he fits in your life and your body perfectly. Oh yes! The doctor is in!

Elliott - for all his flowery prose, his day to day speech is actually pretty down to earth once you get to know him. Maybe he comes across as a bit of a snob with his extensive vocabulary, but he really just wants to impress you, not turn you off. He (literally) likes long walks on the beach, dreamy piano sonatas, and long soulful ballads. On Chat nights you can find him loosening his ties, letting his hair down, and kicking back a pint with his BFF at the bar. He is never awake before 9:30 or 10 because his writer brain comes alive late at night. He has a flawless complexion (and he's proud of his skin care and hair routine). Inspiration might strike anywhere so he always carries a pen and notepad in his pocket and says things like "can I quote you on that?" for the Pelican Town Times, a newspaper he's trying to revive and has a circulation of maybe 3 people. He's always publishing poems under a pseudonym but his unpublished novel is his pride and joy and he doesn't let anybody read it so when he finally shares an excerpt with you one day it's a really important moment. And of course, when he does finally publish, the dedication is to you, which will make you cry, and he also dedicate it to the particularly bothersome seagull, which makes you laugh, the one that always squawks at the most inopportune times like when you two are trying to "have a romantic moment." His bed might be a little creaky and his cabin a bit drafty, but he treats you and your body like royalty (and to regular nightly full body massages).

Alex - yeah, he's not a complicated guy. He likes sports, surf, and sun. Granny has been his favorite, the first woman in his heart, and he's kinda spoiled by all her love and attention (yes she still cuts the crusts off his sandwiches and does his laundry), but he isn't a brat. He can fix a leaky roof, a leaky sink, a leaky sprinkler system. He mows the entire practice field at the high school in the spring, rakes leaves in the fall and shovels snow in the winter for his neighbors. He still sells ice cream from time to time in the summer, but usually works as a seasonal lifeguard on Ginger Island. Sure, he might be a bit disconnected and doesn't always know what his partners want, but when he's wrong and you tell him, he admits it. And while he can lift you up on his shoulders so you can pick fruit in the orchard and he has the stamina of a Greek god in bed, he doesn't brag about it (at least not very often). He really just wants to make you happy above all else. Oh and he wants to be a dad someday.

Shane was like a drug, in the beginning - you're addicted to this man, dad bod, scruffy face, and all. You love him in spite of his mean and grumpy exterior. Somehow insults turn into foreplay. Maybe it's toxic but you don't care. This man sets records in bed, and he's not a one-hit wonder. As you start showing him affection and stick around despite his numerous attempts to scare him off, he realizes you're here to stay and maybe he can have something of a life again. So he cleans himself up, goes to therapy, quits drinking, and detoxes. Boy! It's not pretty. But it's worth it to him if it means he can have you. And that makes you love him all the more. Sure he's still addicted to Joja colas, but that's really not so bad. Nothing fazes him. Chasing down cows in a thunderstorm, setting Jas' broken arm, putting out a barn fire, rescuing you from a capsized fishing boat, carrying you out from the mines for the umpteenth time, even a chicken landing on his head while you're discussing favorite sex positions in the garden. Come on. That should have elicted a laugh. He's come a long way from that scowling drunk in the corner at the Saloon who just wanted angry hookup sex. He has become your rock just like you were for him all those years ago.

[haleyincarnate]

I don’t talk about how your mother’s name still pops up as a recent contact on Facebook messenger. I don’t talk about how the Christmas tree I bought stands tall in your apartment as a pyre, burning in warm light. I don’t talk about the one-worded replies, the corners of my bedroom you still haunt. I don’t talk about how I will always feel a mother to your dogs. I don’t talk about the plushies won at an arcade sitting in the back window of my car, the Polaroid of us shoved out of sight into the center console. I don’t talk about the bathroom door and the violence it has seen. I don’t talk about my dreams and your hair knotted in my fists like a lifeline, raw desperation to hold on. I don’t talk about how my number in your phone still bears the nickname you gave me. I don’t talk about the wailing my favorite stuffed animal has witnessed. I don’t think about how years and years of love and living can be shrunk down to fit in the palm of my hand, how it has morphed from soft cotton to a shard of glass. I don’t talk about the matching necklaces still hanging on the curtain rod in your bedroom. I don’t talk about one of two identical sweaters hanging deep in the back of my closet. I don’t talk about my mom still buying your dogs presents, my grandparents holding on to a Christmas card for you.  I don’t talk about the ache of loss in my chest but god, is it there. It is there. 

WHAT I DON'T TALK ABOUT (AND OTHER LIES) // Haley Hendrick

[luveline]

More spencer x hotch's sister? I love her relationship with hotch so much btw! Maybe spencer learns some of what she went through in her past?

“What did you get Haley for your six months?” you ask. 

Aaron shakes his basket of fries. You can smell them from your side of the table, salt and grease from the fryer. He doesn’t need to see you looking, maybe he doesn’t care that you want one or not, he tips half of the basket onto your plate and shrugs. “It was a long time ago, I’m not sure I remember. For our first year together I gave her a promise ring, I think.” 

“I don’t think I can get him a promise ring…” You swirl your drink with your straw. Fizzy bubbles rush to the surface. “A ring might be nice, though. Can he wear jewellery in the field?” 

“One nondescript ring would be fine.” 

“Maybe a necklace.” You stab a few of his given fries on your fork and smile. “I’m very stressed, but he’s been so kind the whole time. He never makes me worry about anything.” 

“Spencer is kind.” Aaron glances to the side as a couple sits in the booth opposite. “Admittedly, I was worried. But you’re happy, so I’m happy.” 

“Six months is a long time for no fights.” 

“Honey, some people don’t fight.” 

You toy with a stray piece of lettuce. “I’m really glad that we don’t, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.” 

“It won’t drop. You think I’d let you date Spencer if I suspected he was secretly evil?” 

“There are a few things wrong with that question…” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “Okay, it won’t drop. Can we get, um, dessert? Rocky road sundaes?” They’re Aaron’s favourite, so they’re yours, too. 

Despite his assurances, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You think about your conversation with Aaron for the days leading up to your six month anniversary with Spencer, which he aptly names your ‘half anniversary’. He doesn’t plan any surprises —he sends you a PDF with different options for everything. Five different restaurants with different options for courses, moods, and settings. There are notes for each place and why you might like them, and there are activities for each one afterwards based on the location. It’s so thoughtful it makes you feel sick. The other shoe looms, and looms. 

You choose a smaller restaurant just outside of the busy city, with a beautiful outdoor eating area on a stone veranda. It’s lively but not crowded, secluded but not completely private. 

Spencer tucks your seat in, and he kisses your cheek before he takes his own. When he does, he looks across the table at you, and says, “Wow, you’re so pretty.” 

“You think so?” 

“You’re beautiful.” He gives you one of his not so shy, almost cheesy smiles, like he wants to laugh. “Do you want your gift now or later?” 

“Is it rude to say I want it now?” 

“No, it’s not rude. I’ll feel better once I know you like it.” 

He presents you with a box wrapped in dark blue crepe paper and rounded silver star stickers. There’s twine wrapped around it and bowed, too beautiful to want to open. You look between him and the present in awe. “This is real pretty,” you say softly. 

“It’s nicer inside,” he says. 

You unravel the twin carefully, and you take off the paper to reveal a large, flat box. You put the paper in your jacket pocket, folded primly to keep. Spencer waits patiently. 

You press your thumbnail into the box’s seam and push. 

It’s four pieces of jewellery. What catches your eye first is the sapphires, blue crystal with deep dark hearts pressed into the pendant of a necklace, the heart of a bracelet, and the main bodies of their matching earrings. All simple, elegant pieces, and compiled, their impressiveness is amplified. Your breath catches. You don’t need to be an expert in jewellery to immediately assign a ballpark price tag, and it’s a lot. It’s sort of startling. 

But the price doesn’t matter half as much as the sentiment. 

“Do you remember them?” he asks softly. 

Fourth date. Hand in hand, you and Spencer walked through a shopping centre with iced drinks and churros, and you’d paused for a few seconds to ogle the jewellery display. You’d pointed straight at the sapphire bracelet and said, “That’s gorgeous. I think if I save, I can get it for Christmas.” 

“I know it’s not Christmas,” Spencer says, “I’m sorry, I cheated. But I hope you like them.” 

“Spencer, I love them, I love them,” —you reach your hand across the table— “I love you. Thank you.” 

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I love you, too.” 

You can’t stop yourself from getting up to hug him. He bends under your weight and holds your arms, doesn’t wince when you press the entirety of your face to his hair and breathe. “Thank you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead twice, “thank you, I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He takes your face into his hand before you can leave. “You like them?” he asks. 

“I love them.” 

His smile is everything. “I really did cheat, I wrote it down when we got home and you know I can’t forget the things I read,” he murmurs, pulling you in for a kiss. 

Six months later and your heart still skips a beat. Doesn’t matter that he has an eidetic memory, what’s important is that he wrote it down. 

You take another hug, to his delight, and return to your seat. Your presents wait in a bag under the table. Two books, one jewellery box. He goes for the smaller box first. 

“It’s a ring,” you say, too nervous to let him discover it by himself. “I know you don’t often wear them, but I thought maybe it’s because it’s not something you’d get for yourself, and I think it would look good on you.” 

He opens the box with a smile. So pretty, and exuberantly bright. “Oh, wow.” 

“I don’t know if brands mean anything to you, but it’s Vivienne–”

“It’s beautiful,” he interrupts, “I love it. What finger do I wear it on?” 

“Most wear it on their marriage finger, I think, but you obviously don’t have to do that.” 

He slips it onto his ring finger, turns his hand one way and another, and there’s this joy that echoes all the way across the table from his very core. “Thank you. I love it, and now every time I look down I'll remember why you gave it to me.” 

You spend a lot of time apart, what with both of you working. “I thought that, too.” 

He takes the books next. His laugh is soft. “I’m not surprised.” 

“They’re… they’re my personal copies.” 

He startles at that. “They are?” 

“Yeah. Uh,” —you point at the first— “that’s my favourite, and I think it could be your favourite too.” 

“And this one?” he asks gently, slipping the first underneath the second. 

“Aaron gave that one to me. I know what you’re thinking, okay, that I’m giving something to you I should really keep. Maybe it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t know, but I love you.” You lick your lips. “It’s nice to fall in love. And you’ve made it so easy.” 

He stares at you, lips parted. 

You panic. “It was hard, growing up, and I know everyone struggles but it was hard. If it weren’t for my brother… I feel like it sticks to me and you’ve never made me feel that way. You love me for me. I was convinced nobody would ever do that.” 

“I know it was hard,” he says. 

“Really hard, sometimes, but you aren’t. I’m never scared of you.” 

He reaches across the table to touch your hand. “You aren’t supposed to be scared of anyone, angel.”

Warmth blossoms under his touch. You shake off the fog. “It’s not just about all of that, I swear, I really do think you’ll like them. But if I got it all wrong just lie to me, okay?” 

“You didn’t get anything wrong, shut up,” he says. Spencer stands, his turn to hug you, but he goes about it differently. He tips your head back and he kisses you, and his nose is a pressed line in your cheek as he squeezes you to him. “I’d be surprised if anybody who’s ever met you didn’t love you. Okay? Thank you for trusting me with it.” 

It, and not them, not the books. 

He peels away. You beam at one another. 

“Should we eat?” you ask, feeling pleased and shy at once. 

He kisses you again, one quick peck. “Yes, we can eat.”