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masterwords · 11 months

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every day is a start of something beautiful

Summary: It's time for the leaves to be cleaned up. When kids are involved, you have to be ready for anything.

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Warnings: a few casual mentions of Hotch's childhood not being idyllic, a reference to Foyet, and references to Hotch having chronic pain/ailments.

Words: 2.3k

Notes: Comfortember Day 3 - Leaves. I couldn't resist Hank here. As with everything else this month, this is part of the Chicago Times universe. I hope you enjoy!

Hotch couldn’t actually remember the last time he raked up autumn leaves.

Maybe because the last time he raked up leaves was when he was a teenager. That was an awfully long time ago, judging by the faded edges of his memories.

He could vaguely remember waking up in the morning to the sound of his father hollering about the damn leaves. “Why in God’s name do we have so many damn trees?” It never failed, he’d be shouting about Hotch cleaning them up before he’d even wiped the sleep from his eyes. It would be a quick breakfast and then out the door with a thermos of hot cocoa for a long day of hard work. The icy breeze would bite at his fingertips through his wool gloves and his hands would be bleeding and blistered and bright red by the end of the day. During the course of his time outside, he would have picked up three or four more jobs – neighbors who were older and couldn’t do the work or simply wanted to outsource. He preferred those, they got him away from his house for days at a time. His weekends would be occupied with what he considered easy money during that lull between the glory of football season and the horrors of basketball – a sport he was truly terrible at. He was hardly more than a bench warmer or someone whose shoes squeaked on the court only when their team was so far up in points that they could put their third string kids in, but it was better than the nightmare of wrestling and it kept him busy and away from the house. He would rake for free, but everyone paid him. It kept his gas tank full and he was able to buy Haley flowers and snacks and maybe even one nice date without touching the money his parents gave him.

After University, they lived in apartments, never quite settled. A nice condo in DC when he was appointed as a Federal Prosecutor, and a grungy little dump in Seattle when he took a steep paycut to pursue his dreams as an FBI Agent. While the trees planted to line the streets had falling leaves, he never had to touch them. He only watched them flutter to the ground and be scooped up by city trucks, that was the same no matter which side of the country you inhabited. The type of trees might have changed, but the behaviors never did. When they moved back to D.C, they hired a lawn care service, and again when they moved out to Alexandria. Haley didn’t want to do it on her own and he didn’t have the time. They installed sprinkler systems, did all the mowing and all of the cleanup while Hotch worked his long hours and never saw any of it. Then came two apartments back to back, and lawn care services that would come and go in an hour, sucking up all of the beautiful decaying leaves in their big riding mowers and move on. It was impersonal and loud, and when it was all cleaned up he missed the joy of the colors the leaves brought. There were children who lived in his building who would play in the leaves until they were cleaned up, and the sound of their laughter and the rustling got him through a lot of long lonely days after Foyet’s attack.

Now, he and Derek had a house. Well, Derek had a house and was kind enough to open his doors to Hotch and Jack, inviting them to move in rather than see them go back to Virginia when they were released from protective custody. They were still taking things a little slow, poking along, living together but not saying words like love too often. (Even if it was always heavily implied.) Derek’s divorce was still fresh enough to be a wound and the year of witness protection, the loneliness and fear and physical decline, were still wearing on Hotch in ways he couldn’t cope with some days.

But then the leaves fell, and he felt grounded and connected and useful just thinking about doing something mundane and simple. Something people just did at a certain time of year. Something that meant he belonged.

The front lawn was not just scattered with leaves, it was covered. At least a foot existed between the crisp upper layer and the damp, darkness of the bottom layer that was killing the small patch of grass they called a front lawn. Maple leaves and Oak leaves married in a sea of velvet orange and yellow and brown. The acorns pelted the sidewalk and made walking a hazard. He hadn’t even bothered to look at the backyard yet, those trees were still dropping leaves. They had another week or so before he could look at it as a project.

“I’ve got the riding mower,” Derek said, kicking his feet up with a beer in front of the TV. He was ready to watch some football and relax, and Hotch was about to join him. At least for the relaxing bit, he couldn’t tell you who was playing in the game. It was more about settling in beneath a blanket with Derek, resting his cheek against the mound of his shoulder, and maybe even falling asleep. “I’ll just take it out.”

“Too many leaves and acorns, it’ll clog it all up. I don’t want to lose a window to an acorn. I’ll do it, I have tomorrow off.”

Derek eyed him and scrunched his nose, shaking his head no. Like he’d considered the offer and instead of making a counter was outright refusing it. “I’ve used that mower the last two years. It’ll be okay.”

“I’d like to do it,” Hotch said, recanting his previous offer and rewording it. He was a lawyer in another life, he could do this all day until he found a loophole to exploit. Derek wasn’t an idiot, he knew what Hotch was doing and he kind of liked it. This sort of back and forth almost always led to sex, and it had been a few days since they’d had any...he was ready for that outcome. He’d even give up watching football for it.

“How about we wait until the weekend? We’ll get the kids out there playing and it’ll go quick if we work together. Then we can walk down to Lem’s and grab a bite to eat.”

“You don’t have to help, it’s a small yard. This football season has been exhausting, you deserve a break.”

“I got all winter, bud. I’m not coaching wrestling or basketball, just overseeing. Don’t worry about me.”

“But you’re worrying about me.” Hotch could feel his upper hand slipping away as his feelings crept in, knowing now that Derek was only concerned about whether he could do it at all. They went out running most mornings together, went to the gym, played all sorts of sports with the kids and Derek was worried his body suddenly couldn’t handle raking leaves? It hurt a little and he didn’t bother to hide it.

“Of course I am. I know we’re pretty active as a family, but that’s exactly it. As a family. You’ve had ticker problems since Foyet, don’t you dare pretend you haven’t. I know we don’t talk about what’s up with your body after Foyet much, it’s your business, but I think about it all the time. Plus your back’s all jacked up, you’ve been walking like an old man all week. I’m not letting you do it by yourself.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m an invalid.”

“No, I’m preventing a reasonably healthy middle-aged man from putting himself in the hospital because he’s stubborn. There’s a difference.”

Hotch scoffed at that, but when the weekend came and they were all bundled up under the bright morning Chicago sun he was glad for the help. And the company. The yard looked larger than he thought as he stood on the porch scanning the job with the last of his coffee warming his hands, and the sound of Jack and Hank playing catch with a football nearby made him feel instantly warmer. Derek was right, loathe as he was to admit it. This was a task better suited to the whole family.

He and Derek began at opposite ends of the yard, raking big piles of leaves, smelling the sweet decay, that smell of fall that’s so intrinsic and almost cathartic it was hard to put into words. It signaled to Hotch that it was time to hibernate, to hunker down in a way nothing else could. He imagined another night on the couch, probably with his heating pad nestled against the ache in the small of his back (because Derek was right about that too), a mug of tea or a nice dark beer and a movie – sharing a blanket and a laugh with Derek. This was the good stuff.

It would be the reward for a job well done.

They managed four giant piles in the front yard. “Not bad for a days’ work,” Derek announced, grabbing Hotch triumphantly by the hand and walking him back toward the garage for the carpenter bags to stuff the leaves into. They spent a little extra time in the garage, kissing in the shadows beside the shelves of fertilizer and tools. Warm lips and cold hands, safe from the biting wind for just a few minutes. “Aren’t you glad we did it together?”

“Yes,” Hotch smiled into another kiss before insisting they get back to the yard and finish up because he was starving. When they returned to the front yard, they found Jack throwing Hank wildly into the piles. Screaming and squealing, arms in the air, hair flying wildly where a knit cap had been moments before. That knit cap was now in the mess of leaves, what remained of their nice neat piles. Hotch couldn’t find it in him to be angry, even if they had undone much of the work he’d effectively destroyed his body for. He’d be in pain for the next few days, and it was worth it, but it would have been nice not to have to do it all over again.

“Again! AGAIN!” Hank was squealing with delight, throwing his arms wide, giggling madly when he hit the pile on his belly and sent a spray of leaves around him up into the air.

Hotch stopped and folded his arms, just watching with the ghost of a tired smile. Derek, on the other hand, dropped his bags and rushed forward, diving right into a pile himself. He didn’t need an invitation to the fun, and he certainly wasn’t going to be upset at work wasted. Jack tossed Hank down on top of him and soon they were both laughing and throwing the little guy, taking turns. Hank’s appetite for flight was insatiable.

“Come on Aaron!” Derek yelled and Hank rushed, covered in scraps of leaves and dirt and grass, toward Hotch. The leaves in his hair caught the sunlight and gave the impression of a golden crown, Hotch thought as he watched the kid run toward him.

“AGAIN!” Hank shouted, raising his arms like Hotch knew exactly what he meant. And, in spite of how badly he wanted to preserve the piles because of all of their hard work, he couldn’t resist playing. He looked at Jack standing there, a brand new teenager, and realized he’d never done this with his own son. He’d never thrown Jack into a leaf pile. Had Jack ever played in one? He didn’t know, but he thought maybe not. And when had he last done it himself? Those memories were faded sepia and silent and slow. His grandfather had tossed him into one, he thought. Yes, his grandfather played with him in the leaves, long before Sean was born. Never his father (or his mother). His father hated the trees, hated the leaves, hated it all. And he’d always been too busy with teenager things to play with Sean. What a waste, he thought.

Resigning himself to the fate of doing the work all over again, he lifted Hank into the air, gave him a kiss on the nose that made the kid giggle and launched him toward the pile. Derek raised his arms and caught his son, burying them both in the leaves quickly while Hotch walked up behind Jack and shoved him in. Just toppled him right over into the last fresh pile, watching him sink in with a look of surprise that eventually melted from teenage too-cool-horror into a smile.

So, they would have to rake again. Maybe Hotch would let Derek get the riding mower out for the second time, make short work of it. Hotch did like watching Derek out on that thing, he had to admit. There was something about it that felt so domestic and sweet he couldn’t help it. He always managed to sit on the porch and watch Derek looking so pleased with something so silly. But when he and Derek began throwing leaves at one another, he didn’t think about all the work they’d put in or all the work they’d have to do again. It wasn’t easy to take his mind away from it, he had a way of getting on a loop of work done before fun, but Derek wasn’t having any of that. “You never have the fun,” Derek would remind him when he got so caught up in the work that he couldn’t see his way out. “Sometimes fun before work is fine.” That attitude was infectious. His smile managed to pull Hotch in and get him playing too.

He’d be itchy, would definitely have to suck down some benadryl when all was said and done, but even he wasn’t immune to ending up in a pile of sticky wet leaves and enjoying himself.

“AGAIN!”

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #jack hotchner #hank morgan #criminal minds #fanfiction #chicago times universe #comfortember 2023 #day 3 - leaves

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seattlesgreencleaningfairy · 4 months

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#1 House Cleaning & Maid Services in Seattle, WA

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#seattle #house cleaning #cleaning services seattle #maid service seattle

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bubblesandgutz · 1 year

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Every Record I Own - Day 784: Neutral Milk Hotel On Avery Island

In the Aeroplane Over the Sea knocked me off my axis when I first heard it in 1998. The music alone was like discovering a whole new planet, and to then discover that the Neutral Milk members were a part of a collective of bands under the Elephant 6 Recording Company was like discovering a whole new universe. It was tough tracking down the other band's records in that pre-internet era, but I grabbed what I could. While there were certainly fascinating things happening in that solar system, I kept gravitating back to Neutral Milk Hotel.

On Avery Island didn't reprogram my brain the same way Aeroplane did, but maybe that's because I was already on the Elephant 6 wavelength when it came into my collection. While it didn't instantly floor me in the same manner, if you had asked me which NMH album was better back 1999, it's entirely possible I would've answered with On Avery Island. I remember dubbing this LP onto a cassette that I'd take with me to my summer job of cleaning up campus housing at my college back in May '99. On the flipside of the tape was the final mix of Botch's We Are the Romans, which we had just finished tracking up in Seattle. As I was going through all those students' houses, cleaning up the junk they'd jettisoned in the rush to leave for summer break, I'd switch back and forth between this strange little world concocted by a bunch of weirdo college kids on the opposite end of the country and our own little musical vision from our lonesome corner of the Northwest.

While I've familiarized myself with Aeorplane to the point where I've drained it of a little bit of its magic, I still feel immediately transported back to that summer of 1999 whenever I listen to On Avery Island.

I owe a hat tip to @axelrod for reminding me about the Elephant 6 documentary yesterday, which I watched last night. It was an inspiring movie that reminded me of all the beauty and excitement of being at that age where you're out on your own, free of larger adult responsibilities, and finding your tribe of like-minded artists. The Elephant 6 collective did an amazing job of creating their own little universe, both in terms of the psychedelic music they made, but also as far as cultivating their special cultural enclave. One thing that kept coming to mind while watching the movie was how that specific kind of magic will likely never happen again. It was an era of cheap rent where you could work a part time service industry job and survive. You didn't have a cellphone to distract you, so your social time involved hanging out with your friends. You weren't bombarded by entertainment, so you and your friends were constantly making art with no hopes of a larger audience other than the people you hung out with on the weekends. And even beyond that, your access to music was so limited that you were actively engaged in your local scene and listened to your friends' records over and over and over again.

That last point was one that really stuck with me while watching the documentary. My listening habits have expanded dramatically in the last twenty years, and that craving of new music has increased even more in the era of streaming. But I worry about losing some sense of forming a deeper connection to new music and creating that mental bond where an album can transport me to some other time and place, keeping me tethered to some aspect of my past. Will I ever listen to a new record as much as I listened to the two Neutral Milk Hotel albums? Do I have that kind of bandwidth considering the volume of new music coming out in any given week?

I must have listened to On Avery Island hundreds of times, and it's fully woven into my synapses in such a way that whenever I hear it, I'm twenty-one again, just finished with an academic year with the whole summer ahead of me, with a new album by my band all wrapped up, feeling nothing but optimism for the future. And it's ultimately that kind of connection that I want out of all music.

#neutral milk hotel #everyrecordiown

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theprocleanteamwa · 8 months

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Types of Professional Cleaning Services (via GIPHY)

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entheorg · 11 months

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Just How Can Customers Decide On A Respectable Duct Cleaning Service Supplier?

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laresearchette · 1 year

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Saturday, July 08, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

I'm Back!

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: A ROYAL CHRISTMAS CRUSH (W Network) 8:00pm V.C. ANDREWS’ DAWN (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? GREATEST GEEK YEAR EVER: 1982 (CW Feed)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CBC GEM WORLD PARA ATHLETICS CHAMPIONSHIPS (July 8th to 17th)

CRAVE TV HALLOWEEN ENDS

WIMBLEDON TENNIS (TSN3) 6:00am: Early Round Coverage - Day #6 (TSN4) 1:00pm: Early Round Coverage - Day #6 (TSN4) 9:00pm: Primetime

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: Jays vs. Tigers (SN/SN Now) 4:00pm: A’s vs. Red Sox (SN/SN Now) 7:00pm: Atlanta vs. Rays (SN Now) 9:00pm: Angels vs. Dodgers (SN) 10:00pm: Diamondbacks vs. Angels

NBA SUMMER LEAGUE (SN Now) 3:00pm: Miami vs. Boston (SN Now) 10:00pm: LA Clippers vs. Utah

US WOMEN'S OPEN (TSN) 3:00pm: Third Round

CALGARY STAMPEDE (SN1) 3:30pm: Calgary Stampede: Rodeo - Day 2 (SN/SN1) 10:30pm: Calgary Stampede: Rangeland Derby - Day 2

PACIFIC 4 NATIONS RUGBY (TSN4) 6:55pm: Canada vs. New Zealand

CFL FOOTBALL (TSN3) 7:00pm: Redblacks vs. Ti-Cats

ABSOLUTELY CANADIAN (CBC) 8:00pm: Toronto Stories: Ethiopian Musicians and Winston LaRose includes two short documentaries, "Tizita" and "Mr. Jane and Finch."

NATION UNTAMED (APTN) 8:00pm: Sam and Chuck journey to Canada's arctic, gaining a new appreciation for the far North and the people who live there; they experience a landscape and a traditional hunt unlike any they have witnessed before.

BACK TO ROOTS (APTN) 8:30pm: Matricia describes the versatility and benefits of wild blueberries, then bakes wild blueberry muffins over an open fire and makes a wild blueberry mocktail; she plays her drum and sings a song called "Mother Mother."

DEATH OF A LADIES' MAN (CBC) 9:00pm: A carousing college professor's life takes a series of unimaginable twists when he begins to have surreal hallucinations. Inspired by the songs of Leonard Cohen.

BARB & STAR GO TO VISTA DEL MAR (CTV Life) 9:00pm: Lifelong friends Barb and Star embark on the adventure of a lifetime when they decide to leave their small Midwestern town for the first time ever.

HALLOWEEN ENDS (Crave) 9:00pm: Four years after her last encounter with Michael Myers, Laurie Strode finally decides to liberate herself and embrace life. However, a local murder unleashes a cascade of violence and terror, forcing her to confront the evil she can't control.

HOW TO PLEASE A WOMAN (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: Inspired by a birthday surprise from her friends, a 50-year-old woman has a business idea to launch an all-male house-cleaning service.

MLS SOCCER (TSN/TSN5) 10:30pm: Vancouver vs. Seattle

THE AMITYVILLE CURSE (Crave) 10:55pm: Friends intend to flip the Amityville house but find a paranormal presence.

#cdntv #canadian tv #cancon #canadian tv listings #absolutely canadian #nation untamed #back to roots #tennis #mlb baseball #nba basketball #golf #calgary stampede #rugby #cfl football #mls soccer

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