#like.. yeah!! still the case but let's say there is much more now

[moonstruckme]

MAE I'm sorry, I thought of another (no pressure at all of course). maybe hot cocoa - send a character + a prompt with Spencer Reid and reunion? Maybe Spencer wasn't supposed to be home in time for the holidays and surprises his love??? AH so cute ok sorry I'll retreat back into my cave now thanks love you byeeee

Never ever be sorry lovely!! Thanks for your request <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 465 words

You set your keys on the counter when you come in, your cheeks tingling pleasantly from the change of the cold wind to your warm home. You’re carrying a small bag of presents which you set down next to your keys before taking off your shoes. It takes you a few seconds to realize something isn’t the way you left it a few hours ago. 

The Christmas tree is lit, its warm glow emanating from the living room and casting hazy shadows on the walls. 

You don’t proceed with as much caution as a woman who’s expected to be alone in her home likely should. You know Spencer and most anyone from his team would crow at you for leaving your mace with your keys by the door; but really, what creature of malintent plugs in the Christmas tree? You find Spencer sleeping on the couch, shoes nowhere to be seen but still in his work clothes. 

The smile that takes you is ginormous. He looks especially lovely. The gentle glow of the lights makes the curves of his face look soft and sweet, cherubic almost, but you’d be just as happy to see him if he were rough and grimy and frowning in his sleep. 

“Spence,” you murmur, crouching beside him. You touch his shoulder gently. “Spencer.” 

His eyes move under his eyelids before they open, settling blearily on you. “Hi.” His voice is rough but tilts up with pleasure. He blinks his way into the world. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, beaming. “What’re you doing here? What about the case?” 

“We, uh…” Spencer sits up, rubbing his face. “We solved it. They haven’t caught the guy yet, but I’m never as helpful with that part as Morgan or JJ anyway. I wanted to be with you.” 

Your cheeks are starting to hurt. You hug him fiercely. It’s awkward and half sideways, but full of more love than you can express. Spencer seems to get it. 

“I know how much Christmas means to you,” he says, folding an arm around your back. “I didn’t want to miss it.” 

Whatever he says, you know how much finishing out a case means to him, too. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got here,” you offer. “I’d have come home.” 

“That’s okay, I didn’t want you to cut your celebration short.” Spencer’s pinkie sweeps in slow arcs between your shoulder blades. “We’re together now, right?” 

You let him go to take his face in your hands, thumb denting softly into his cheek to make sure he’s really there. “Yeah,” you say, kissing him. “Thanks for coming home, Spence.” 

“Thanks for having me,” he says, a bit awkwardly. His smile when you laugh is the brightest thing in the room. 

[thatdisasterauthor]

I do indeed have much I can say on all of this! I don’t have time for a full breakdown, but let’s hit some key points.

🌪The Milton evacuation and changing the direction highways.

This is called “contraflow” and it is indeed a thing that is frequently used in evacuations. However, from what I understand, Florida might have laws against this? At least that’s what I’ve heard, or maybe just laws that do indeed make it very difficult. I haven’t had a chance to look into it too closely. And it is a tricky thing to do safely just off the cuff without a known procedure in place, which you wouldn’t have if it’s against the law in your area. You’ve gotta shut down all the exits/entrances accordingly so you don’t have issues with head-on traffic, you’ve gotta make sure you have effective alternate routes for emergency traffic, you’ve gotta have a space to reintegrate traffic into the proper lanes once the contraflow segment has ended, etc. etc.

You’re right that this isn’t a police problem, it’s a LAW problem. Maybe also a police problem in the sense of what trainings are available to them, what procedures they have in these situations, etc., but not an ACAB style police problem. Plenty of places DO use it, like I said. (Also, sometimes you’ll get spontaneous contraflow, where people just start doing on their own, but that’s a whole different can of worms.)

🚗 Over dependence on cars.

America is indeed super car dependent, but that’s not exactly the issue here, at least not in the way you’d think. First off, evacuations are just HARD. That’s a lot of people to move. Even if you took every large transport vehicle in a given area (so all the buses of any sort, any trains, any planes), you’re not going to get the entire population moved out in a timely manner, even if every seat is taken. It just isn’t feasible for so many reasons. People DO need to be able to evacuate via car. It’s also very dependent on the disaster in question. An evacuation for a hurricane is very different than most other evacuations due to the amount of time you, usually, have.

Now, one thing that happens and causes problems during evacuations is that people take ALL their cars instead of just one. Mom takes one car with the kids and as much stuff as possible stuffed in the back, and Dad takes his truck with the dogs and the bed piled high. A lot of evacuation planning doesn’t account for this. They see a four person family and think, “ah yes, the family sedan has six seats, they’ll just take that and go, we don’t need to plan for them to put both their cars on the road and at all the gas stations along the way.” But then they do take both cars, and so does every other family on the road, and suddenly you’ve got a shit ton more cars doing something that you expected a lot less cars to be doing. I have a lot more thoughts on this I can share later, if people are interested, but for now we shall move on.

(There’s also definitely an element of poor city planning and infrastructure in some places, but that’s very much a case by case thing.)

👩🏻‍🚒 We need a better emergency management system.

Yes! Though, actually, we already have a pretty good one as compared to other countries. Not great, by any means, but something like FEMA is pretty rare. Most countries just kind of ad hoc disaster response on a case by case basis, which is also what we did until we created FEMA in the 70s.

I have A LOT of thoughts about how we could improve the system as it currently stands, which is a big part of why I want to do a PhD in emergency management.

🔥 When to evacuate.

You mentioned this in relation to the Camp Fire, and that one is…yeah, that one was so bad. There’s a lot that goes into making evacuation decisions, and unfortunately studies have shown that a lot of emergency officials still believe the myth that people will panic if you give them too much information about a disaster. This leads to delays in evacuations, among other things. Also, evacuations are expensive, and that makes officials hold back. Plus, there’s the “cried wolf” effect where if it turns out the evacuation WASN’T needed, the next time it IS needed, people will be less likely to go, which again makes officials hold back.

With the Camp Fire, though, I don’t know if any of that specifically was what was at play. That thing just moved FAST. Also, this was a small mountain town. There were not a lot of ways out, just thin mountain roads. I guarantee those officials who made the evacuation call hesitated because they knew people WOULD get stuck on the few potential roads to safety. They weren’t making a choice about evacuation, they were making a choice on where they wanted people to be when the fire DID hit. Because it was going to hit. So do they concentrate people all in one spot, on a road that itself won’t burn but will be completely surrounded, or do they keep people spaced out all over town hoping that pockets of it might be safe? And they had to make that decision at the drop of a hat, knowing people were likely to die either way.

Fires are, in my opinion, the most terrifying thing to have to manage an evacuation for. They are both incredibly quick, but also potentially long lasting. They can shift direction at a moment’s notice. They can do things you never knew they could do. They can consume absolutely massive areas. They can die down and pop back up when you least expect it. And to be the person making the decision on how to handle that must be a very, very heavy weight.

👋🏻 People in positions of power just waving their hands.

Some do, some don’t. There are so, so many amazing people out there who care about this stuff and are doing their best to address these issues. But they need support. Taking over the department of transportation isn’t the answer, your local emergency management department is. Check out what their emergency plans look like, they should be on your county and state websites. Read through them, find the holes, go to meetings, contact your representatives. Be a nuisance to Congress RIGHT NOW.

🎓 Disaster education

Lastly, to @kyraneko’s point about needing better disaster education, yes! Yes we do! I think one of FEMA’s weakest points is its lack of addressing and helping individuals directly prior to a disaster, rather than in large groups. I’m working on it. Got a big project in the works that will, hopefully, start addressing this issue. And that’s not including the PhD.

Sooooooo….yeah! :D That ended up a lot longer than I thought, lol. Hope some of it was interesting to those of you who have made it to the end.

So I have a friend from high school who is a cop. (Yes, I KNOW.) I shared a photo on Facebook of a packed highway of people attempting to evacuate from Hurricane Milton, all while the lanes going in the opposite direction were open and empty. And my Facebook post was basically me screaming, “Open the other side of the highway and reverse it so that people can GET OUT.”

His response was essentially, “Yeah, that is *really* difficult for us to do.” Not in a condescending way, because he genuinely isn’t a huge asshole. (Yes, I KNOW.)

And then I may have vented in my response, in which I tried not to imply that the police were a problem. Because to be honest, I don’t see this as a police problem. I see this as how we have fucked ourselves as a nation by making ourselves so dependent on cars.

There is that poll on this site – or multiple polls, at this point – asking how long people can tolerate being in their cars. And the thing is, Americans (and Canadians as well, I am imagining) have almost no other options. We have to be used to spending a good 12 hours in a car without breaking a sweat. Everything in this country is built around being in a car. There’s a reason when you ask us how far away a place is from somewhere else, we normally give that distance in hours and not miles.

Air travel sucks. It sucks for a multitude of reasons – cost, the hassle of dealing with security, the time suck, etc. – and in an emergency, only a select few are going to be able to use it to get away from a hurricane. And that’s one of the few disasters where air travel is an optional escape.

Train travel sucks. Amtrak is not something you’re gonna be complaining about if you’re trying to get away from whatever disaster you need to evacuate from. But next to so many other countries, Amtrak looks like we’ve been receiving other countries’s leftover railway systems from the 70s. It also doesn’t go everywhere. I live in northeastern Pennsylvania near Scranton, which prides itself on its history in the train industry. We have a museum and everything. We have multiple things named after that museum, including the Steamtown marathon which is happening tomorrow.

Can you get on a passenger train in Scranton? Nope.

(The main argument against this always seems to be that people will come here from New York City and commit crimes, which is hilarious considering if somebody wanted to come here from New York City and commit crimes it’s only a 2.5-hour drive.)

Anyway, disasters.

If the only option you’re gonna give most people to get out of areas of Florida that are being targeted by hurricanes or areas of California that suffer from wildfires or places in the Midwest that face flooding are cars, then we need a better fucking emergency management system regarding transportation in this country. You can’t just sit there and mock people for not evacuating because they can’t or won’t when getting away from Milton meant sitting on highway for hours with absolutely no gas stations whatsoever nearby having any gas at all. (It just makes me think of those photos of people stranded on the highway in their cars in blizzards where people are like, “Now imagine imagine how bad it would be if all of those cars were electric!“ Well, all of those cars in that photo in that blizzard run on gas and they’re fucking stranded, sooooooo.)

Look, we can change the transportation system in this country. we did it before and we can do it again. We used to have more train options, fewer highways. My small hometown had a fucking trolley in the 40s. Now, if you don’t have a car here, you’re stuck. You can’t even get Uber here. if a wildfire started here and surrounded the town, it would be a clusterfuck.

Regardless of how you feel about the police, if police and fire departments in this country cannot organize an evacuation on a highway in a way that will reduce the backup so that tens of thousands of people aren’t sitting in their cars when a hurricane hits, that’s a problem – not just for those people, but for the police, and the fire department, and emergency management in general.

The people in charge of emergency management are just people, just human. I’m researching the Camp Fire in 2018 right now, and you had a bunch of people calling 911 saying, “I can see a huge fire off to the east. Are we safe? Should we evacuate?” The 911 operators could only work off the information they had. They could have told people to evacuate earlier, but Cal Fire didn’t anticipate the strength of the fire. Which is understandable. Nobody could anticipate the strength of that fire. But the 911 operators were sitting in an office with no windows, and they had no idea what was going on the east. They couldn’t look out and see exactly what was happening. If they could have, they probably would have told people to leave as soon as possible much sooner than they were told to. Instead, they waited for official confirmation, and when they did start telling people to evacuate, traffic managed to back up in a small town of 25,000 people until many of them were trapped in an unimaginable hellscape.

When people need to evacuate from a disaster, and they stay instead, far too many people - including those in positions of power – just kind of wave their hands and say, “Well, we tried.” No, we didn’t. This country made not trying its watchword, and now we’re at a point where unless you own a car, which is a luxury a lot of people cannot afford in this economy, escaping from disaster is impossible. So you can get in your car or somebody else’s car and go sit on a highway and hope your gas doesn’t run out, since none of the gas stations for 100 miles have any gas to give you, or you can stay in your house and hope you don’t die.

Sometimes, I really wish somebody would make me the head of the department of transportation. I would demand an absurd amount of money to build a better train system, to provide better transportation options for smaller towns, to provide extensive training for rescue personnel in managing evacuations like the clusterfuck in Florida this week. I would become an absolute fucking nuisance to Congress. I would be asking for money left and right to make it so that our only options as Americans weren’t to get into cars we can barely afford these days and attempt to organize our own evacuations from the growing number of natural disasters in this country.

Y’all keep posting these polls about how long you can tolerate being in a car at the same time that tens of thousands of Floridians were sitting on highways trying to get away from Tampa so they wouldn’t die in a hurricane.

We can tolerate being in a car all goddamn day. It’s because we don’t have a fucking choice, even when it’s life or death.

[hailthedoll]

Hiiii i love your blogs i’ve been following gaga for AT LEAST a year now and i’m so happy your back! Could you write a NSFW Euronymous hc? Anything NSFW please i'm needy.

✭ euronymous nsfw headcannon ✭

i love you so much for one requesting and two following my page for that long. thanks bitch<3 PSA, if you do not support or agree with my post or feel the need to leave a hateful/judgemental comment kindly fuck off and move on. with much love-knotty<<<333

LISTEN

im gonna say this flat out, i feel like he lowkey is childish with stuff like this

like giggly

a friendly reminder euronymous and øystein are the same person with different personalities

so øystein

this man was BLUSHING the first couple times he saw you naked

then that turned into just staring at you in awe and he hasn't really stopped doing that since

hes gentle

hes more of a giver than a receiver imo

its easier for him to finish than it is for you and he knows this

so making you more so of a priority in his mind is the obvious choice

he wants to make sure you're okay and it feels good for you before he worries about himself

but when he does worry about himself this man is vocal

not necessarily dirty talk

more so like quiet moans, whispers, small grunts and sighs

he loves head tho

when he gets head those are the moments where he can be GREEDY

he pushes your head down, you choke

"shit sorry"

and then the motherfucker will do it again

i see him being very much into missionary

he wants to see you

how you react to things

how you're feeling

the look on your face tells him what he needs to be doing

he will go down whenever

for however long

if it takes all day he's got time

he enjoys it

is it the taste? is it your body twitching under him? is it your moans?

he doesnt know, but its addicting

and he's got that "nobody else makes you feel this way" or "nobody else can make you sound like this" attitude

that really gets him feeling some sort of way

he will practically beg for you to sit on his face

a million pleases until you say yes

and its like he's more excited for it than you are

him praising you

AGAIN not in a dirty talk way but more like

"you look so beautiful" while you are FOLDED

definitely would keep a polaroid of you(iykwim) in his wallet, hidden behind some cash or maybe behind a more appropriate picture of you

possessive in a doesn't want a threesome way

like doesn't want anybody touching you or seeing you the way he does

he absolutely loves to show you off and brag about you to everyone and hear people compliment you but he would never let it go past that

pre show sex

it may take some convincing or teasing him to get him to actually do it in public but after the first time he is all for it everytime

after show sex

if this man is wanting to fuck you after a show, he is still in this mindset where he isnt øystein, hes euronymous

and if that's case you're getting a cocky motherfucker

hes high on adrenaline

he just spent a solid what hour? two hours? listening to people cheer for him

like yeah this mans ego is FED

this is the time he'd be more aggressive

more vocal

yes ACTUALLY dirty talk

PRAISING

he is still more focused on you than himself but its closer to 50/50 than what it normally is

i think his actions are based on your likes

if you like your hair being pulled itll more likely happen when he's in this mindset where isn't himself and he's this persona

because øystein is worried about hurting you

not saying he wouldnt

im just saying its more likely when you get him out of the mindset of you being like this person he wants to love and protect

lets face it, he is a small man

he is not tall and he is not big nor buff

in his eyes hes like your protector

hes the man in the relationship

or the masculine(?) one

and that's just nature for him

so hurting you?

is the LAST thing he wants to do to you

ok aftercareeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

at home he's gonna cling to you

hug you, hold you, kiss you

you ever seen that picture where he was staring at the bird

did you see the way that man was staring at that bird?

you're the bird.

thats how that man stares at you

softly smiling, his eyes full of love

would probs just have you fall asleep in his arms

if you are not home

sly looks

smirks and grins coming your way

little whispers commenting about what y'all just did

and how nobody knows what just happened

like a proud moment

like yeah we did that

he'd kiss you a couple times

hold your hand

or just stare at you and smile

no matter who he is in that moment that man is GEEKING

HE just did the deed with YOU

how did he get so lucky

[lovelyshu]

HOW CAN I WRITE LOVE INTO REALITY? — with jeongin

description. who knew that a study session could lead to love confessions.

tags. gn!reader, best friends!reader and jeongin, not proofread, short(?)

comments. hii, had this idea from these pictures so uhhh, enjoy??

You and Jeongin have been friend for years now. Ever since middle school, you two never separated from each other.

And some people even went to the point of shipping you two. I mean, he's always looking for you and vice versa. It's not hard to think that you're dating him.

Well, maybe you even enjoyed it.

Not that anyone else needs to know that. Especially Jeongin.

The more you spent time with him, more those feelings would get harder and harder to ignore.

And lucky for you, today was going to be one of your studies sessions with him.

You were waiting for him to arrive, already reading some of the content so you have an idea on what to do.

Not even a few moments later, you heard knocking, and you felt a bit embarrassed from how quick you got up to open the door, even daring to stop in front of it so it didn't sound like you were desperate for him to come.

I mean, you obviously weren't.

“Hey, come in.”

There wasn't a need for extended or formal greetings anymore, so you usually just say the same thing and he nods with a smile.

You two walked to your room, which was a bit messier than usual from all the intense studying from the last days.

“Please excuse the mess, I have been focusing too much on these tests and a clean room isn't my top priority right now.”

The only reason you stopped talking was because you heard him laugh, already making himself comfortable on your bed.

“It's fine. You don't need to die from nervousness. We're friends, in case you've forgotten.”

You know he meant that in a way that you're not strangers.

But his words still made you sad for a moment, that you sure as hell hoped he didn't noticed.

“Yeah yeah, let's just start this please. I feel like I'm going to fail even my name on this subject.”

That only made him laugh even more, which eventually, made you laugh as well.

After an hour or two studying non stop, you started to get tired. Which Jeongin noticed right away.

“Let's have a break. You look like you're going to sleep on top of those books.” — he was trying to make a joke, but what he said was true. You were looking very tired.

“No, let's continue. I think I'm starting to understand this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and before your brain could process it, Jeongin was standing right in front of you.

“There's no 'no'. We're taking a break now.”

There was no reason to try to protest, your body might be okay, but your mind was basically shutting itself down and refusing to read anything.

Jeongin sat down next to you, hesitantly moving your head to his shoulder.

Which surprised you, and honestly, even himself.

It's not like you haven't been in this position before, but this time it felt different. It felt more..

Intimate.

And you're pretty sure he thinks the same, since he's been pretty quiet and that's a rare occurrence between you two.

The half awkward silence stayed for a little longer, until he poked your side, getting your attention.

Jeongin didn't say a word, only putting something on your lap and looking away.

You saw what he had handed you - a letter. Listen, you were by no means someone too delusional or anything, but you were almost sure this was a love letter.

Your eyes were focused solely on the paper, carefully opening it and slowly reading what was written.

With each word you felt your heart beating faster, a soft, but noticeable tint of red creeping on your cheeks.

You were about to say something, but Jeongin was faster.

“I know this isn't the best moment and all, but I'm not sure when will I have the courage to give this to you again.”

Looking at him, you couldn't help but smile. This was one of the rare moments where he was truly embarrassed and even flustered. Because of you, nonetheless.

“Before we do anything about this, just know that.. I love you too.”

Now, it was a shock he didn't broke his neck from how fast he turned around to face you.

You two stared at each other, not sure on what to do or what to say. Well, until you pulled him for a kiss.

It wasn't by any means a long kiss or anything, but it was enough to pass the message.

He smiled at you and you mirrored his smile, feeling zero interest in going back to study.

Wanting to only enjoy this moment.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Second Chances

A/n: first time writing for Rip Wheeler, hope to write more for him

I started this months ago and just finished but I hope it’s good :)

Warnings: implied smut, religious trauma, Beth and Rip aren’t together anymore(love Beth but it couldn’t work for the idea 😔), abuse, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

He looks so pouty and cute I can’t 🥺

~October 15th, 6:37 pm~

"You got a spare room, don't ya, Rip?" John's gruff voice came over the phone, voice wavering through heavy breaths.

"Yeah, why?" Rip asked, he'd just been making himself a quick dinner, body already aching for the sanctity of bed and rest.

"I'll explain later, just get it ready." John hung up before Rip could say anything more.

~7:05 am~

There was an old abandoned shed farther away from the main house, way over a few fields. It once served a purpose but now just lay, holding a few tools that no one had ever bothered to retrieve, there wasn't enough reason behind it anyway.

However, John had been passing by it the past few months with loose cattle around and kept hearing noise coming from it. At first he didn't pay much attention to it, it was most likely just some animals that had taken it over to hide away from the cooling weather, but he wanted to check it out when the sounds started getting stranger.

"Kayce," he called to his youngest son, "I want to take you with me to check out the shed up North of here." He said.

Kayce was with his wife, Monica, and son, Tate. They were having breakfast together, Tate was going off about something and Monica was listening closely, Kayce had been as well until his father came over to him.

"Up North?" He repeated. "Why? That thing’s been here longer than me, never needed to check on it before."

John sucked his teeth and shrugged. "Just come with me later, alright?" Kayce agreed, he had nothing else to do. Nothing to do with the ranch, anyway.

They couldn't head off right away, things needed to get done with the horses and such, everyone had chores.

~4:45 pm~

The two hadn't been able to leave much earlier, just getting on their horses to head out. Kayce didn't mind leaving earlier, he'd thought they'd leave later but this way he figured he'd still be able to tuck Tate in with Monica.

They arrived at the shed and sure enough those noises were back, only this time there was a light seeping through the cracks of the old wood.

Not wanting to risk getting caught they tied their horses up further away to trees, walking through the overgrown grass lit up by the setting sun, it cast a golden glow over the already yellowing field.

There was definitely someone inside, someone doing something and clinking shit together. They drew their guns as they neared the door facing into the trees.

John kicked it open, whoever was in there jumped and dropped something. "Hey-hey! Who the hell're you?!" It was a man yelling from inside. "Show yourselves to me, you crazy fucks!" Kayce gave John a worried look.

John peered in and saw the guy, scrawny fellow, shaved head, it didn't seem to be by his own fruition with how choppy it was. His clothes were tattered and stained, eyes bugging, he was clearly on something; what, they weren't sure, but they couldn't risk anything.

Kayce took the first step in, gun aimed at the man just in case. John followed shortly after and looked around while Kayce kept the man against a wall, hands in the air defensively.

"Cooking meth, you're cooking meth on my land?!" John yelled, making his way over to the man in a few short strides, raising his fist and punching him square in the face and knocking him on his ass.

There was a second thud, it didn't come from Kayce or John, not even the addict. No, this one came a second later from somewhere else.

In the corner of the shed was a smaller closet, it had been used to keep shovels and such. It wasn't small but big wasn't a good word for it, not by a longshot.

"I'll deal with this, you check on that." John said to Kayce, taking the rope from his side and kneeling next to the man, getting him over to the broken down and chipped table in the middle of the room and tying him to it as tight as he could.

"Don't, it's nothing, nothing!" The man yelled, struggling against John's hold on him.

The door creaked open and Kayce froze at the sight. "You, uh, you're gonna wanna see this, dad."

John looked up at his son, trying to get a look from where he was but needing to stand up anyway. The tied man kept yelling and squirming, shaking the table as he did.

Kayce moved to the side to let John look. The room was small, still, it held a poorly made bed, really it was just the frame with a shitty pillow and ratty old blanket thrown over it; there wasn't even a window to cover up.

In the darkness he made out a figure, a small one. A person chained to the bed. They were on their knees, elbows resting on the wood and hands clasped in one another, lips moving subtly in a silent prayer.

"Oh, Jesus Christ..." John muttered. He knelt down, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked, keeping his voice gentle as it could be.

Your clothes, a shirt and cotton shorts, were browning with age, holes dug into them, blood littered over them, crusted into your shorts especially.

You finished your prayer and looked to him, keeping your gaze below his head and refusing to look any higher. You gave a small nod.

Kayce had gone back to the horses and returned with bolt cutters and handed them to his father. "We're gonna get you out of here, ok?" John said, rubbing your back. He reached for the chain wrapped around your ankle, hooking the cutters into one of the loops.

The feeling of him trying to get the chain off was more than you could bear, this room had been all you'd known for years, that chain had been around your ankle for years, rubbing on it and making your skin raw.

You swatted at John's hand, pushing him away and backing yourself into the corner across from the bed. Your breathing was heavy and you shook your head, this chain was keeping you here and still, you couldn't lose it.

John looked to Kayce who was chewing his cheek, thinking of ways to help.

The son took the cutters from his dad and moved to kneel in front of you. "I'm not gonna hurt you, alright? I just want to help, I can't do that with this thing." He said. Kayce was much gentler than John, his voice not as gruff and warmer. He looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled state and seeing how panicked you were. "Can you tell me your name?" He asked, not bothering to make you look at him, it was the least of his concerns right now.

You fidgeted with your hands in your lap. You thought for a moment before shaking your head.

Kayce sighed. "Well, I'm Kayce Dutton, I live on this farm land with my family... we- my dad and I” he said, gesturing back to John, “want to take you there, we can get you food and a change of clothes... a proper bed to sleep in."

"They're lying! They're liars, don't listen to them!" The addict yelled. John groaned and went to him, tying the rope tighter around him. You couldn't hear what John was saying and you were too panicked to care.

"I am not lying, I can't promise you much more than my word, do you trust my word?" Kayce asked, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over the back of your palm in a soothing moment. You gave a small nod. "Alright now, I won't cut it all off, does that sound better?" You much preferred that compromise.

He didn't leave much, just keeping it around your ankle and then a few chains to keep a bit of extra weight, what you were used to, at least similar to it.

"Kayce, we gotta go." John said, peaking back into the room. "Now. Come on, let's go!" John hurried out, leaving you and Kayce alone.

"Can you walk?" You shook your head, Kayce exhaled with a nod. "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you out to the horses, alright?" You paused a moment but there wasn't much time for him to wait for you, quickly wrapping his arms around you and carrying you out of the shed and to the horses where John was already waiting, horses untied and ready to go.

The sky above you, the trees and the grass, all of it was so familiar and new all at the same time. The cool chill of the night hitting your face and body, your skin so pale in comparison to everything else. For just a moment you were struck with this envious look, all of this had been waiting for you? Just a few feet away? But then it all came crashing down as it settled in you that you were outside, alone and vulnerable.

As soon as you reached the horses you started panicking again, yelling and screaming and reaching out for the shed again as the man called out for you as well. Kayce laid you on the horse and gave it a smack to get it going, John was on the other horse, holding the reins to Kayce's horse and moving while Kayce started running just behind you both.

He didn't get far before the shed caught far, exploding. Kayce was already far enough away and wasn't injured, no one was but the man holding you captive was definitely gone, a foot landing not far from you.

You screamed until your throat hurt, until nothing came out. Your eyes red and stinging from tears as you cried out, body shaking over the horse.

John slowed down and Kayce caught up with you, taking the reins of his horse back and leading it back to the farm. "Kayce, call 911, we need to stop the fire." John spoke, taking out his own phone.

The land was damp and frosted, chances are the fire wouldn't make it very far, besides, the houses were much too far for it to cause any real damage. Still, the fire was right on the tree's edge and they couldn't risk too much.

The phone rang in John's hand, all while you wailed in the background. "You got a spare room, don't ya, Rip?"

~7:16 pm~

Rip had set up the spare room, there really wasn't much to set, the bed was made and it wasn't a particularly messy room, dusty, sure, but not messy.

There was a knock on his door and he went to answer it, opening it to find John with a more than distraught you under his arm. "I'll go get some of Beth's old clothes, get her in the shower, clean her up.” The older man ordered, gently pushing you towards Rip.

Rip was caught so off guard and just held you close to him for several minutes while John walked away, back down the hill to the main house. He looked down to you as you stared at the ground. Your hair was matted, face a mess, clothes… he didn’t even want to think about it so he just guided you to the bathroom and set you down on the floor while he ran the water in the tub, making sure it was nice and warm since you were shivering.

He glanced back at you, huddled in the corner, knees to your chest, tears rolling down your cheeks. “What’s yer name, kid?” He asked, keeping his voice gentle. You shivered and shook your head, you didn’t know him, you didn’t know what was going on, where you were. You were more than scared of this big, strange man, no matter how kind he seemed off the bat.

Rip sucked his teeth and nodded, understanding that this was something new for you. “I’m Rip… I’m a cowboy, you know what a cowboy is?” You shook your head again. “A cowboy is someone who protects the people around them… people like you, you understand?” You didn’t but you nodded anyway. “So, I’m not gonna hurt you, I’d never do that… and if anyone hurts you, you tell me, alright?” You nodded again.

Rip looked back to the water as the tub filled up. “What are you doing?” You asked, also looking to the tub as water poured out the faucet.

“I-I’m getting a bath ready for you.” He answered simply, raising a brow at your question. “You’ve had a bath before, right?” He looked you over, you didn’t look like you had.

“When-when I was younger…” You answered softly. “To wash away the day's filth is to wash away God’s path for you, your history.” You explained. Rip sighed, he wasn’t a very religious man but that sounded cultish to him, seeing your disheveled state…

“That’s not what God said, you know…” He said, hoping you’d look up at him but you didn’t. “If that’s what he really wanted he wouldn’t have made lakes and rivers for us to clean in… he would’ve made it harder to do that, would’ve put up a sign or something.” You thought about what he said. Nothing was changing overnight but after everything today you were at a loss, you couldn’t go back to the room you knew, all you had was Rip right now.

“Do you need help out of your clothes?” He asked, gesturing to you with a nod. You’ve heard those words before, not in that order, not in that tone, but you understood that much and shook your head.

You stood and pulled your shirt up over your head, Rip looked away to give you some privacy, as if he wasn’t about to wash you himself. You pulled your shorts off and tossed them aside to the corner before going to the sink, now Rip looked at you, confusion swirling in his eyes as you placed your hands on the edge of the sink, parting your legs and looking down into the sink.

Rip stared at you dumbfounded. Your clothes covered in blood and basically standing alone in the corner, it made sense now and he jumped to his feet, gathering you in his arms and bringing you over to the tub, carefully setting you down in the warm water. “You don’t ever have to do that again, you hear me?” He said, holding your mucky hair out of your face, turning your head to look at him. You closed your eyes, refusing to look at his face. “Can you look at me?” You shook your head. “What’s stopping you?” He let go of your face, letting you look back to the water turning brown around you.

You swirled your hand in the water, amused by its ripples. “He said you may not look man in the eyes for it disrespects him and taints your soul.” Rip exhaled sharply, staring at you a moment longer before reaching back to get a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink.

He rubbed soap into the cloth, letting it bubble in his hands before running it over your bruised and battered skin, listening to every hiss you let out from the scars it passed over and caught on. Your ribs and inner thighs were the worst of it, all it did was anger Rip more and more by the second.

“I’ve got no respect to lose, you can look at me.” He muttered, running the cloth down your arm. “Your soul… that’s something you can’t touch with your eyes.” You didn’t respond.

He continued to bathe you as you rested your chin on your knees, eyes slowly closing until you couldn’t keep them open any longer, you were used to sleeping in this position, your body accepting it as normal while Rip fought the urge to pull you closer to him.

He’d never felt this with someone before, other than Beth. He wasn’t speaking to Beth anymore, she left and made sure he knew she was done with him, tore his heart out and made him eat it.

He didn’t want to think of that right now, he wanted to help you, that was his focus, his only priority.

~7:45 pm~

Rip had been struggling with your hair for too long, he’d finally managed to get your body clean but your hair was beyond repair. A knotted, matted mess that just needed to be shaved off.

A knock came to the bathroom door and it creaked open and John stepped in, keeping his back to the bath as he held out a pile of clothes. "I got you somethin' to wear, just, uh, put these on when you're done" He said, looking down the hallway with a nervous look etched on his face. "I gotta go find Rip." He said lower.

Rip stopped trying to untangle your hair, it was only harder because you were asleep and he didn't want to wake you. He cleared his throat. "I'm right here, sir" He said softly. "She needed help."

John's head snapped to him before he quickly looked away again to avoid looking at you naked. "What the hell are you doing?! She's been locked up and used like a fucking doll, you don't know what she'll think of this!" Rip hung his head, he knew what John was talking about, seen it in the way you reacted sometimes, your clothes. "You're supposed to be keeping her safe, Rip."

Even with his harsh words and the deeper meaning behind them, it was hard to take him so seriously when he was scared to look into the bathroom. "I-I know, Sir, I was just helping... she needed it..."

John let out a heavy sigh. He set the clothes on the counter beside the sink. "Just finish up and get her into bed, not your bed. I wanna talk to you for a minute." He said, closing the door behind him and heading down the hall to the living room.

Rip let out a heavy sigh, very few times had he disappointed John, he hated it every time. However, he couldn't just get this done quick.

He looked to the counter and pulled out a drawer, looking into it and seeing his razor. It was the best thing for you.

He dried you off and got you dressed, doing his best not to wake up, which turned out to be easier than he’d thought it would be, you were just out and he kept checking your pulse.

He shaved your head, it was better than leaving that mess on your head, then he washed your scalp, being careful around the sores. He carried you to the guest room and tucked you in, running a hand over the fuzz that covered your head now.

John was waiting for him out in the living room, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He stared at Rip as he came down the hall. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Rip inhaled deeply as he took a seat on the other side of the couch. “I was thinking she needed help and I helped… I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” John grumbled. “Look, she seems content with you if she was able to sleep, you keep an eye on her.” He stood up and went to the door, stopping just short of it. “That’s all you keep on her, ya hear?” He stated, shooting him a look. Rip nodded and John left.

Rip stayed there a moment, thinking about… everything before eventually getting up and walking back to the guest room where you slept peacefully under the sheets.

He sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand down the side of your face. “You’re too young for this.” He muttered to himself.

You began to stir, eyes slowly blinking open and you looked up at him. He stared back at you, your eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, tortured and innocent, there was a purity in them he’d never seen in anything.

“You’re looking at me.” He said, cupping your cheek in his rough, clean hand. His hand had probably never been this clean before in his life.

You brought your hand up to hold his against your face. “You’re pretty.” You mumbled, drawing a chuckle from him.

“Am I?” You nodded with a smile. He sighed and looked over you once more. “What’s your name?”

You hesitated a moment. “Three.” Rip paused.

He shook his head. “No, that’s not your name, that’s a number, I asked for your name.”

You stared up at him with a blank stare, blinking tiredly. “Three.” You repeated.

Rip stared, eyes flickering over your face, taking in your doe like features. “Is that the name he gave you?” You nodded, sitting up with a grunt, body aching. “I’m not calling you that.”

“That’s my name.” You stated firmly, Rip was surprised that you’d use a tone with him but he didn’t care, he wasn’t calling you a number.

For several moments you sat there, staring at each other. Rip brought his hand back to your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. He leaned in and closed the distance between you both, his lips on yours.

It was gentle and warm, passionate but not heated. Love was a complicated concept but you’d never felt it before, he hadn’t gotten ahold of it himself, still, he was determined to show you there were brighter sides to this world than what you’d seen.

A knock on the door reminded him of where he was, who was with, what was happening. He pulled away, seeing the way you were now looking at him; eyes wide, full of something new, something eager and curious.

The knock came again and he got up. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He said, giving you a last kiss. “Just lay down, darlin’.” You nodded with a smile as you moved down the bed.

He went to answer the door quickly, rushing to get it open so he could get back to you.

On the other side was Beth. He hadn’t seen her, nor wanted to see her, in so long, what felt like forever.

She was on him in an instant, arms around his neck, his own lifting her up as he carried her to his room. He knew he shouldn’t, that you were waiting for him.

It kept him up late after Beth was done with him, when she was sleeping next to him, using him for warmth, what else it was she’d use him for he couldn’t guess, there were too many options.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 28/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTYEIGHT

                He didn’t expect to miss Leandro and Silvia and all the extended Gallo family so much. He’s so glad that Vi decided to come with him, that it gives him a link to their family back home. When they were travelling it was fine, better. New places and people everyday, foods to try and regular contact home. Now that he’s more settled his apartment feels… quiet. Empty. He’s glad Vi lives with him, even if she’s messy and has no intention to change.

                “You’re allowed to miss people. Fuck. What kind of emotionally repressed upbringing did you have?”

                Bradley looks at her, one eyebrow raised, because they’ve talked about this.

                “Oh shit. Yeah. Okay. You get a pass. But you’re Italian now. Honorary Italian anyway.”

                “Yeah, don’t think it works that way.”

                “Let’s pretend it does. You need to cry?”

                “I don’t need to cry.”

                “We all need to cry once in a while. Come on… curl up with me and think your saddest fucking thoughts until you cry. Promise you’ll feel better after.”

                “This is insane…”

                “Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

…            …            …

                “Boyfriend’s on the blower!” Kieran declares, because he’s appointed himself Bradley’s cellphone keeper, despite the fact that Bradley doesn’t need someone to answer his phone for him.

                “Oh for fucks sake…” Bradley mutters, hands dripping with fish guts and blood. Okay, maybe he does need someone to answer his phone. Kieran smirks at him, the others in the kitchen are turning off the music, conversations dropping to more quiet murmurs, all so Bradley can talk to his boyfriend. There isn’t a film crew hovering at the moment, for which he’s grateful for, doesn’t need more of an audience for his phone conversations with Jake.

                But Bradley is working and needs both his hands free. He’s lost ear pods into soup and sauces before, the over-the-ear ones catching and pulling on his hair and uncomfortable under his hat and he just doesn’t like things in his ears when he’s working. So now there is an understanding in his team, if Jake calls and it isn’t the busy service time, they let Bradley talk to his boyfriend. He knows they have their own reasons for keeping him happy, but he’s still grateful. He nods at Kieran, who settles the phone on the little holder located just above Bradley’s workstation and presses the answer button.

                “Hey babe…”

                “Hey. I’m –”

                “You’re on speaker in the kitchen,” Bradley quickly interjects and there is raucous laughter around him. He wasn’t quick enough one time and Jake had said a little bit too much, unaware he was on speaker. He doesn’t call while Bradley’s working frequently, because the timing doesn’t often align with their schedules.

                “Good to know. You know I’m just going to assume that’s always the case now, right? Going forward? Safest bet, right guys?”

                “Yes!” everyone in the kitchen call back and Bradley hides a smile.

                “Well, I was just calling to say that it’s forty-eight hours babe. Just thought I’d ring and give you a countdown…”

                “For the callers at home, Bradley just went as red as a tomato…”

                That makes Jake laugh and the sound filling his kitchen makes Bradley grin wider, not even bothering to hide it.

…            …            …

                Their carrier is due for significant maintenance, the entire squad disembarking in Brooklyn to start their leave. He’s surprised when Phoenix falls into step beside him, because he’s not headed toward temporary housing, and he knows her home base is North Island.

                “Phoenix, you’re heading into New York as well huh?”

                “Yep. Been planning this since I found out where we’d be finishing up. There’s this restaurant I’ve been dying to go to. I made a reservation months ago for tomorrow night, it’s impossible to just walk in. What about you? Heading home?”

                “Yeah, eventually. Here to see my giant cock of a boyfriend…”

                The look on her face and eyeroll is exactly what Jake was after and he smirks.

                “Can’t you just call him by his name?”

                “And stop annoying you? Never.”

                “Ugh. You’re impossible.”

                “You love me really,” Jake says with a laugh, which earns him another eyeroll. He thinks she might be warming up to him, although all the baked goods he’s given her courtesy of Leo have probably helped.

                “How long are you in town? You want to meet the giant cock?”

                “Rooster. How about we just call him Rooster,” she suggests, desperation edging in and Jake doesn’t stop grinning.

                “Hmm. Not bad… you’d still know it was because he has a …”

                “Lalalalala I can’t hear you…” Phoenix says, voice loud and Jake laughs again. She’s almost as much fun to rile up as his sisters.

                “Fine. I’ll call him Leo. You can call him Rooster though.”

                “Please note that I have no interest in his cock. Or anyone else’s for that matter.”

                “Oh,” Jake states, because that is indeed new information. “Huh. Good to know. You know, one of my sisters is a lesbian…”

                “Hangman, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to be related to you.”

                “Wow, jumping to marriage without evening meeting her. I know the Seresin charm is strong, but even then…”

                “I mean I’m not even taking the chance of ever being somehow related to you.”

                “Okay. Sure… my family is great. Your loss Phoenix. Tell me about this restaurant you’re going to. Fancy?”

                “The fanciest and most popular. There was a whole TV show about it, Tartaruga Blu?”

                “Nope. Never heard of it.”

                “Bet your boyfriend has.”

                “Yep. Probably,” Jake agrees easily, because Leo knows food stuff and watches more TV than Jake. “Pretty sure you’re more interested in the baked goods he sends me than …”

                “That is true. Definitely one of the reasons I keep you around.”

                “So you admit there’s more than one reason?”

                “Ugh.”

                “Pretty sure you were the one who was moaning over those cookies he sent me.”

                “Shut up. Anyway, I thought he was Italian?”

                “Nah, he was born in Virginia actually, but lived all over. Spent most of his childhood and teen years in Cali actually, your neck of the woods. He just headed for Italy first chance he could and then lived there for a long time.”

                “Huh. That sounds kind of familiar…”

                “Pretty sure it ain’t a unique situation.”

                “Yeah. Probably…” Phoenix says, although her expression looks like she’s trying to figure something out.

…            …            …

                He has time, so he sees Phoenix to her hotel before wishing her a good leave period. She insists on following him on Instagram, even though Jake’s account is private and he hardly ever updates it, using it to follow his sisters and look at when he’s feeling particularly homesick. Right now he definitely isn’t thinking of them, his mind very firmly on Leo and the address he’s heading toward, phone directing him with its little arrow and distances. He knows Leo has to work tonight, won’t be getting home before 10pm and Jake had turned down the offer of going to the restaurant for dinner, not wanting to turn up anywhere with Leo and not be able to immediately undress him and take him to bed.

                Jake’s been thinking about this, of driving Leo to the edge over and over. Giving Leo instructions and having him listen and follow them. It’s been another four months since they last saw each other in Japan, and they’ve definitely gotten very experienced with taking photos and talking filthy to each other over the phone when they can find the time to make that work. Catching Bradley in his kitchen and telling him he wanted to tie his hands behind his back and then go down on him… well. He’s not embarrassed about wanting to do that, more embarrassed that he maybe made other people uncomfortable hearing it.

                He grabs two hotdogs and eats them as he walks, mouth twisting now at the taste of ketchup. Damnit, Leo’s sauce has ruined him for hotdogs. He’ll bitch about that later to Leo he decides, heads to Leo’s apartment, knowing it’s going to be empty. But there is a concierge and Leo told him to expect it but he still finds himself shaking his head. He shows his ID and is given a key to Leo and Vi’s apartment, and considering what he wants to do for the next twenty-four hours he’s very glad to know that Vi has decided to stay with friends.

                Smart woman.

                They have a flight to Texas in thirty-nine hours. Jake is going to make every single one of those hours count. Right now though he has maybe an hour before Leo is meant to get home and he has a plan to put in place.

…            …            …

                “Jake? You here?”

                There isn’t an answer, but he can hear the shower running in his ensuite bathroom, and a shower sounds like the perfect thing right now. He’s tired and sweaty after the last few days of work, preparing for the ten days he’s taking off to visit Texas with Jake. Vi can work miracles, but even she can’t move everything. Ten days is still going to feel like a luxury, and he’s looking forward to seeing all of Jake’s family again.

                “Hey there…” Bradley says, coming to a stop in the doorway and taking in the sight of a naked Jake Seresin in the shower. It’s quite the sight.

                “Hi… you going to join me?”

                “Yeah. I really need a shower. You being in there is definitely added incentive…”

                “Mmm, well I’m happy to assist with the washing… if you’re too tired that is.”

                Bradley groans, because honestly the sound of Jake’s capable hands running all over his body sounds great, but also really relaxing. He’s just that tired and god he’s not even going to be able to keep up with Jake with how exhausted he’s feeling.

                “Come here darlin’…”

                Bradley goes, stripping off his clothes and dumping them directly into the washing hamper, and then he’s stepping under the spray and Jake’s hands are one him for the first time in months. He leans in for a kiss, desperate for that connection after so long apart. He’d thought maybe it might be hard and fast, both of them desperate to come, but it’s almost the opposite, slow and thorough. Their hands and mouths and eyes becoming reacquainted with each other and it’s quiet and intense and as much as the time apart might suck he’s glad that this exists, that they get to come back to each other.

                “Missed you…” Jake murmurs against his neck and Bradley hums happily, repeats the words into Jake’s mouth.

                He’s done what Jake asked, not that Jake had reminded him precisely when the spoke two days ago, but he’d said forty-eight hours, which was the time frame he asked Bradley to not jerk off. Which wouldn’t have been a problem with how tired he’s been preparing for ten days off, but this morning when he’d been stretching himself, thinking about what he was doing and why, had definitely turned him on, knowing that Jake had asked it of him. He just wishes he wasn’t half asleep, doesn’t want Jake’s homecoming to be anticlimactic.

                “Fuck you’re beautiful Leo…”

                Bradley whines, hips stuttering because Jake’s hand is wrapped around his cock and he’s not sure if Jake’s talking about him or his cock. Regardless his body is reminding him it’s been a long while since he got off, much longer than the two days Jake had originally suggested, but it’s not Jake’s fault that Bradley hadn’t had the time or inclination in the days before. Jake hasn’t even touched the slim plug Bradley has resting in his ass and he reaches for his hand, guides it so his fingers run over the slightly flared base and then Jake is groaning, his own cock hard against Bradley’s hip and he knows he’s going to be taken apart in the best possible way.

                “Leo baby, you okay?”

                Bradley nods, bottom lip clamped tight between his teeth because he doesn’t want to cry out, but he also doesn’t know what the plan here is exactly, Jake just telling him this is what he wanted and Bradley wants to give him the world…

…            …            …

                “Think I can edge you baby? You like being edged right?”

                Leo’s entire body trembles against him, but he’s shaking his head and he looks close to tears. Jake doesn’t want sad or upset tears, but he also doesn’t know what’s going on in Leo’s head right now.

                “Jake,” Leo manages and Jake just holds onto him, arms around him, hopes the hot water isn’t going to run out any time soon. “I haven’t come in nearly five days… because of work… I really don’t…”

                “Don’t what?”

                “I don’t think I can stand being edged right now. Please just…”

                “Okay,” Jake says, easily, and in his head he’s thinking I love you and he knows Leo most likely feels the same way but the words can’t trip over his teeth. The fact that Leo trusts him enough to say what he wants, fuck, he really does love him.

                “Yeah?”

                “Of course baby… tell me what you need. What you want. Or should I just tell you what I was planning?” Jake asks, fingers tracing over pale skin, not the sun-kissed skin from their time together before in Texas. He’s probably not been out in the sun since then if Jake had to guess.

                “Tell me…”

                “Okay… but how about we go and actually get ready for bed, you’re dead on your feet.”

                “Not that dead,” Leo argues, although his argument is slightly derailed by the fact that he struggles to walk in a straight line

                It doesn’t take much to bully him out of the shower, to pat him dry and then nudge him into his own bed. He’d already laid out supplies before he got in the shower, and they might not get around to using them if Leo falls asleep on him, which is fine. However Leo’s cock is hard when Jake slips into bed beside him. It must be close to midnight, which he knows isn’t that late of a night for Leo, but he also knows he’s been getting up early to do prep so that he can enjoy time away from work while Jake’s on leave.

                “You ready for story time?” Jake asks, pressing a kiss against the curve of Leo’s neck, waits for the affirmative hum to indicate he’s listening and then Jake wraps a hand around his cock, rocks his own cock against the curve of Leo’s thigh. “I was stretching myself out in the shower… was going to sit myself on your cock and ride you until I came. Wasn’t going to let you come though. Bought you a cock ring just in case you thought you needed it. Then I was going to wait until I got hard again, keep you hard the whole time by sucking you. Then I was going to fuck you nice and slow, bring you to the edge over and over. See if we could beat our last record…”

                The sound Leo makes is so close to a sob Jake feels a flash of worry, but he looks anything but upset. Skin blotchy and flushed, mouth hanging open and eyes glazed. He looks like he’s already been denied an orgasm or two and he’s absolutely gorgeous.

                “Oh, so you do like the sound of that huh?”

                “I just… I don’t… don’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

                “Oh baby… Leo… darling… I could never be disappointed,” Jake murmurs softly, then something occurs to him. “However if you want me to spank you… we can talk about that.” It’s definitely on the right track judging from the way that Leo’s entire body shudders and jerks. But now is not the time for that type of conversation, both of them far too worked up and on the edge to be thinking rationally to bring in anything new right now. “Later.”

                “Yeah, later. Please…”

                “You want to come Leo?”

                “Yes.”

                “Okay… you just… lie back and let me take care of you okay? Let me make you feel good.”

                He takes his time giving Leo a long kiss, wonders if he should maybe just turn off the lights and let the other man actually sleep. Except his cock is hard and digging into Jake’s hip incessantly and he reworks his plan a little, because Leo is tired but he’s also still got the plug in him… Okay. Little bit of revision and he can work with this. He gets the things he needs, condoms and lube, a towel and tissues, bottle of water… He’s always believed in being prepared. He wraps a hand tight around Leo’s cock and jerks, hard and fast, watches as Leo’s entire body arches off the bed. Not that tired yet.

                “As I said, you’re not the only one already stretched and ready baby…” Jake says, rolling a condom down Leo’s cock and being very liberal with the lube before he shifts until he’s straddling over him, holding his cock at his entrance. “Wanted to give you this…” Jake says, and he sinks down slowly, grits his teeth against the discomfit and waits for it to ease. He can feel Leo straining beneath him, trying to hold still and he appreciates his level of restraint, leans down and kisses him again, his body rocking and it feels good, but still not his favorite, but from the expression on Leo’s face it’s making him see stars and Jake is more than okay with that outcome.

                “Don’t hold back baby, work with me here…”

                “Jake…” Leo says, and there is definite wetness in his eyes, but Jake is pretty sure everything is okay. Trusts that Leo will say something if he needs something else, something more. He simply rocks gently back and forth, takes in the darkening red flush of Leo’s skin across his chest, neck and face. This isn’t going to be enough to get him off, not with Leo’s hands lying almost lax on Jake’s thighs, but he cares more about Leo’s pleasure than his own right now.

                “Come on gorgeous…”

                “Jake… Jake please…”

                “Tell me what you want baby. Anything…”

                “Fuck me. Please. I need…”

                “Oh… yeah. Yeah. Of course baby.”

                He kisses Leo as he eases off his cock, has to admit the distraction of kissing definitely helps. Then he’s disposing of the used condom on Leo’s cock, dropping it to the ground for cleanup later, nudging Leo onto his side because the sleepy demeanor is definitely calling for something a little more gentle and slow. He kisses him softly as he slides the plug out, drops it to the ground to join the condom, then uses a couple of fingers to slide more lube in and around; swallows Leo’s little breathy moans and gasps. Then Jake’s sliding a condom down his cock, slicking himself up and settling himself behind Leo to slide his cock into him.

                Their combined moans are beautiful, and he swore to himself that he wouldn’t tell Leo he loved him while they were having sex. It doesn’t stop him thinking it over and over, his hand working on Leo’s cock, lips placing non-stop kisses over his neck and shoulder, entire body unable to get close enough to Leo’s for his liking, holds him tight against his chest as he thrusts in and out. He can feel Leo pressing back against him, his own motions broadcasting his indecision about whether he wants Jake’s hand and his cock more. So Jake holds him tighter and thrusts a little firmer, because Leo shouldn’t have to choose between the two when Jake will give him both.

                It’s not the hard desperate fucking he thought his homecoming would devolve into, instead it feels intense, meaningful in a deeper way he hadn’t anticipated considering they’re both admittedly new to this. He thinks they’re doing pretty well though. He can feel it when Leo starts getting close, his body jerking in tiny increments, making choked little sobs. Jake groans, lets himself speed up his thrusts and hand a little, then he feels the hot slick slide of come on his hand and he grunts, digs his teeth into the curve of Leo’s shoulder and allows himself let go.

                He lies there, heart racing and feeling hot ad sticky but completely uncaring and with no intention of leaving Leo for longer than a few seconds. He carefully pulls out, fumbles for the towel and wipes his hand and Leo’s stomach and cock as gently as can, keeps his chest to Leo’s back, his lips placing kisses and his mouth whispering words of quiet adoration so good for me baby, gorgeous, thank you for letting me take care of you… He means every word of it and he hopes Leo understands the emotions that underly it all. Leo’s hair is still damp from the shower and no doubt sweat, his eyes are wet and Jake runs the pad of his thumb over the apple of one of his cheeks, bends down to place the softest of kisses on his eyelids and tip of his nose.

                “So good for me… Here, have a drink… come on,” Jake coaxes, because Leo is almost asleep. He’s adorable and sleepy and Jake wants to protect him and keep him forever. Turning off the last light he slips back into the bed, wrapping the sheets and blankets around them both as he holds Leo to him and falls to sleep easily.

[cyellolemon]

His everything

oc: Olive (he/him)

[bloodsbane]

apparently rugrats is my 'background noise to work and cope to' show for today, and yknow what, some of the dialogue they gave the adults in this show is REALLY funny

[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[blighted-lights]

I feel like your approach to criticizing a certain fandom was the wrong way of doing it. Don't get me wrong, you are a hundred percent right about the lack of representation for certain characters. But you had to have known that you would've gotten backlash for insinuating that the only reason that content is being made is because people are... misogynistic? The characters are well-written; that's why they get attention. The women are also well-written, you're right! But instead of getting mad at the people who enjoy specific characters, you could contribute to what you want to see in the fandom. Make fanfiction, make art, talk about your favorite ships, talk about your favorite characters, talk about the head-canons you have for them, connect with other fans of those characters, make AUs with them, make the fandom you want to see! But I don't know what you were expecting when you come out and say in the tags "you must be misogynists for liking these characters and you must be awful people for playing around with AUs" even though every fandom on this website does that. That was hostile and was only going to get a hostile response in return especially when you specifically put it in the tags for fans of those characters to see. Because it reads as you insinuating that fans of these characters existing is why you don't get any representation of your favorite characters. Or, alternatively, that everyone only likes certain characters because they're misogynists who hate women characters. People make content of them because they like them and because they want to make content of them.

Want more content of the things you want to see? Pay or support the artists and writers who make that content or start making it yourself. Its not helpful to complain that some characters get more attention than others but then make no attempt to contribute to it in any meaningful way. You cannot just get mad at people for liking characters and expect the fandom to magically decide its going to give you the content you want.

This is a long-winded way of saying you are correct in that the fandom seems to hyper-focus on some characters over others. But the way you approached that discussion was combative, hostile, and unhelpful, and you're not going to motivate a community into making content by being passive-aggressive to the people making the content they want to make. Be the change you want to see in the fandom, or support the artists and writers who make the content you want to see.

Its like... You can't complain your garden isn't growing if you're not watering it and not adding seeds, and instead are blaming everyone else for having plants in their gardens that you don't like.

anon i dont know how to tell you this but if you felt the need to write a five-paragraph essay talking about how i need to be nicer to other people when i am pointing out misogyny in a fandom space then, well... actually, i dont know what to tell you other than the fact that i was trying to be aggressive and im not going to be civil about misogyny. my post wasn't made in the hopes of getting people to make more content of the women in borderlands because that would never in ten fucking million years work. it was not a constructive post. you are assuming i have some sort of goodwill about this and i don't. i wanted to be an asshole because, surprise, i am an asshole. funny how that works.

you are also pulling so much of this out of nowhere and putting so many words in my mouth that i dont even know where to begin with it?? i mean this in the kindest way possible nonnie but. this is a wild response to make when all i said was essentially "wow it sure is weird that the majority of content made for bl is focused on only three men when there's a full cast of amazing women to look at" and then "its also weird that people are making aus to erase the canon abuse and exploitation of a CHILD in order to make jack a good father". but thanks for the essay, nonnie. i guess.

[biblicalhorror]

Thinking about one of the loser men I dated directly post-college who, after I showed them Dirty Computer [the emotion picture] by Janelle Monae, said they "prefer rap that has something to say"

[meezer]

just relistened to the tarot reading I got from jared in march 2021... dude. 😭 two of swords and the hanged man stuck with me the most but the other ones too which I had kind of forgotten... it was the perfect reading tbh it was exactly what I needed to hear and it really helped

description of the situation: two of swords reversed

what I could do about it: five of swords reversed

what I COULDN'T do about it: the chariot

the lesson behind it: 3 of pentacles

how it's gonna turn out: the hanged man

I'm getting so emotional now on behalf of my past self. I know I was listening to this at the time and crying.

[basiltonpitch]

god this episode proves what i said in the tags of this post last week. ellie does not actually enjoy being violent she doesn't enjoy killing and when she is faced with having to shoot someone she does not aim to kill. yes she paralyzes him yes he ends up dead anyways but the point is. she panicked. she hesitated. she didn't put a bullet in that man's brain even though she could have. she isn't inherently violent.

[snekdood]

Ppl gotta understand that just bc you do x thing because you're mentally ill, doesnt mean your actions dont have the same effect if you weren't. Like if you've been manipulative to your friends, you cant get mad at them for not sympathizing entirely with you when you go on about how they dont accept you for your mentally ilness. Regardless of your reason, you were still manipualtive, you fucked with peoples trust. Theyre still gonna have trust issues about you even if its bc of whatever mental illness you have.

[starboundsingularities]

good lird they did not make a gimmick blog about a real life murder

#someone fucking DIED but whatever who gives a shit it's funny i guess

7 notes

🥚 eggvidenced Follow

honestly with how suspicious and confusing everything on the dl-6 case was i wouldn't be surprised if it came out that it was that prosecutor guy tbh

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

date posted: june 23, 2010

1,834,853 notes

⚖️ courtofpublicopinions Follow

🌟 rockliker270 Follow

ok hear me out. what abt winston payne though

🧊 just--ice Follow

okay now they're just making lawyers up

#also didn't mvk die or something?

28,932 notes

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

why the fuck are you people still posting about the gavinners as if theyre not copaganda. didn't the guitarist get convicted of murder

🎸 guiltiest-lovers837 Follow

so fucking tired of this "um um didn't daryan get convicted of murder" YEAH AND HE'S LITERALLY NOT IN THE FUCKING BAND ANYMORE. dipshit

🔥 triedbyfire Follow

are you gonna address the copaganda thing or

1,092 notes

🌻 attorneybout Follow

he's so. 😳

📂 trialanderror Follow

why is he defending

📂 trialanderror Follow

OP WHY IS HE DEFENDING???

24,374 notes

🦈 giantlakemonsters Follow

i just wanna hear about another gourdy sighting thats all

🥜 liberdeez Follow

op. i'm so sorry op. gourdy isn't real you have to let her go. they had a whole trial about it.

🔐 wrightorwrong Follow

hi!! so this isn't actually the case as while gourdy was briefly mentioned in a trial, said trial had nothing to do with whether or not gourdy was "real" per se as much as. well. murder, actually. while gourdy WAS found out to be an inflatable steel samurai this was not brought up in the case at all as the veracity of gourdy wasn't really as relevant as the fact that the witness was looking for gourdy rather than at the murder she claimed to have seen. plus this was also a relatively small part of a MUCH larger trial which for those interested not only solved the dl-6 case but ALSO marked the end of prosecutor von karma's ~40 year long record and the court records are really a fascinating read through!!

🦀 mad_libz_87 Follow

net 0 information post

#thanks again lawblr

94,834 notes

🍒 cherriescoola Follow

btw i was at the park the other day and klavier gavin (of gavinners fame) was there and obv there was a huge crowd but this guy was there with him and at some point he (the other guy) waved to the crowd and someone still screamed like it was klavier??? who was that guy ive never seen him before in my life

2,284 notes

🩸 has-dl6-been-solved-yet Follow

December 28, 2016

YES!!!

702,947 notes

🪙 tellerlikeitis Follow

guys help i'm a bank teller and this guy just introduced himself as robin banks what do i do

🔪 violencekilling Follow

you gotta let him rob you that's the law

302,948 notes

👻 ghostesswiththemostest Follow

look if i ever get convicted of murder im just hiring the lawyer with the coolest sounding name

💼 courtofwaw Follow

bestie if you already got convicted it is Too Late

62,193 notes

📋 lawandwhoreder Follow

guys i know it's real fun to think people just can predict whatever but if you look at the earliest reblogs of that post that "guessed" the true killer in the dl-6 case it was actually a post about how they didn't want to go to the store. clearly edited

#stg nobody bothers to factcheck anything anymore

7,293 notes

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

i am NOT homophobic or whatever the fuck you guys are saying now i just think its weird to write fanfiction about realass people?? go touch grass ffs

🌈 lawsbian Follow

the fun police (this guy) putting me in yaoi court but the lawyers (phoenix witrght and miles edgeworth) just keep trying to make out (real court is like this too btw)

🐺 lawnewolf Follow

YOU HAVE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU.

#look idc what your enemies to lovers fic bullshit says #they're straight. and more importantly REAL PEOPLE. #there's TENSION because they are in COURT and there are LIVES on the LINE. #not because they wanna fuck. god.

12,293 notes

🔮 inhighspirits Follow

why dont they just ask the spirit mediums to ask the victims who killed them this law shit is easy

837,495 notes

💞 lawveyourself Follow

seriously i cant believe they gave this guy a law degree

💞 lawveyourself Follow

what do you mean evidence fraud

503,893 notes

🎧 instrumentalillness Follow

fuck you *unguilties your love*

384,568 notes

🎀 copiicat Follow

perjury isnt illegal btw in fact if youre one of tge witnesses youre legally required to lie on the stand. thats why everyone does it. trust me

[reidrum]

close to home | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe

cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares

wc: 2.4k

summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar

_______________________________________________

whenever the bau has a case based in the dc area, it’s always a little easier on the team. familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. the hard part about home cases is knowing there’s a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.

spencer and callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. the unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. he felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by hotch and garcia entering the bullpen.

“police just got a 911 call about a break in, but there’s a witness this time. she was home when it happened and it looks like he didn’t expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. i think it sounds like our unsub. morgan and reid i need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.” hotch explained.

morgan and reid nodded as garcia spoke up, “i just sent the address to your phones, it’s a house on hillcrest so it's not that far from here.”

spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say hillcrest, “did you say hillcrest?”

“yeah hillcrest drive. it’s like, a 15 minute drive it’s not that bad.”

he felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. that was the street you lived on. he tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.

“garcia, what’s the house number?”

“reid, i already sent it to your pho-“

“garcia, what is the house number,” he spoke again. 

please don’t say 1159 please don’t say 1159 please don’t say-

“1159.”

fuck. the color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you, last night? this morning? he doesn’t check on you as much as he does when he’s not on a case, but oh my god why can’t he remember the last time he saw you.

“reid,” hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, “what is it? what do you know?”

he shook his head,  “nothing. morgan, let’s go.” he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.

morgan, garcia, and hotch all looked at each other in concern, before morgan spoke up, “i’ll see what’s up.” the latter two nodded softly, though the worry didn’t let up in their eyes.

morgan walked up to the car to find spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.

spencer was alerted by morgan’s presence hearing the car unlock but he didn’t even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.

“okay reid, spill it. it’s obvious you know who lives here.” morgan speaks up.

“just drive, please.”

“because if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.”

“morgan, just drive.” he borderline yells.

he raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, “listen kid, i’m just trying to help you. i can see you’re upset but we’re on the same side, you know that.”

spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didn’t even know about. he’d kept you a secret for many reasons— your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. after what happened with maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didn’t get tangled up in his line of work.

some job he did of that.

the one thing he regrets about how he handled the maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. for not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. he’d always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.

he loved you so much. you were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. a breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. you were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. he still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.

“any risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.”

tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. if you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.

he cleared his throat, and morgan’s ears perked up, “my uh, my girlfriend lives there. where the unsub, at- attacked.” he voiced softly.

morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, spencer missing the way his face dropped. he tightened his hands on the wheels, and didn’t hesitate to turn the lights and siren on and shift gears to speed up.

__

the car pulled onto your street and the first thing spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. morgan doesn’t even put the car in park before spencer’s bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.

he’s asking all the paramedics he’s passing if they’ve seen you or know if you’re being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didn’t know, the tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.

he whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and he’s never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. you watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. he’s definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. he’s overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows you’re safe and okay.

“hi,” you choke out muffled, “funny seeing you here.”

he pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. his heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.

“hi, honey,” he lets out tearfully, “are you okay? i mean, of course you’re not. but what did the paramedics say? did they give you anything? are you sure they checked all your injuries? you know what, let me go call the guy over. i’ll be literally two seconds.” his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck you’re sat in to find the emt.

upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.

you were okay, but at what cost.

the emt leaves you two and spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight he’s hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. it’s at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.

spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as you’re attempting to beat your body’s fear response. the slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.

“it’s over, baby, they won’t hurt you anymore. i promise.”

you sniffle, “i know, i just can’t believe this happened. to me, to us. it’s not fair to you.” trailing off the last two words.

“to me? wh- what do you mean?”

you take a deep breath, “i don’t mean to bring it up again, i just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience you’ve had. and i hoped that i wouldn’t be in a position to make you feel that way again. i don’t know why this happened, i'm sorry.”

he looked down at you incredulously. genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. it was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.

“oh sweetheart,” he chokes out, realizing you’ve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, “what happened is not your fault, do you understand me? my job is to always worry about you and your safety. when garcia said the address i…i couldn’t even process it, i don’t even know how i got to the car,” he shook his head, “but i am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. i will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?”

“okay,” you take a shaky breath, “i love you.”

“i love you.” he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be ssa derek morgan. you knew spencer hadn’t told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.

spencer’s grip didn’t let up when he bent down and whispered, “it’s okay, he knows.” you look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.

“reid, i already talked to the detectives and we’re good to go when you’re ready,” he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, “hi sweetheart, i’m derek morgan, it’s nice to meet you.”

spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, “hi derek, i’ve heard so much about you. it's nice to finally meet you too.”

“i wish it were under better circumstances,” he sighs, “listen, i know it’s all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if you’re able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.”

spencer doesn’t miss a beat before protesting, “absolutely not. we can do it later, it’s fine.”

“reid-“

you look up at him placing your hand on his chest, “spence, it’s okay. i want to help, please.”

he rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, “okay, but i’m not leaving you alone for a second.”

“i didn’t think you would.” you smile.

“alright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.” derek teases.

spencer groans, “see this is why i didn’t say anything.”

“you think i’m bad? wait till penelope meets her.”

__

the three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to spencer’s apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. you end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.

“she’s cute,” derek starts, “can i ask how long?”

“nine months.” he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.

“pretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? maybe we’re not as good profilers as we thought.”

“imagine that,” he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, “look.”

spencer’s holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. you’re sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. the first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. the second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldn’t take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. the last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.

the edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. it was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.

“you look really happy, kid.” derek says, thinking about the many times he’s seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering he’s had at the hands of his job. his heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.

“i am.”