#sheri speaks

[warriyorcat]

This is a day late but it's Edmund Fitzgerald Day! (Nov 10). For those unaware, the Edmund Fitzgerald was a Great Lakes Freighter that sank in a sudden and fierce November gale on November 10, 1975, with the loss of all 29 crew members. The Fitz remains the last freighter to have sank in Great Lakes waters. Gordon Lightfoot penned a song about the tragedy after newspapers misspelled the name of the ship. Lightfoot viewed that as an offense to the memories of the sailors and wanted to do something to raise public awareness of the tragedy. His song did so much for the sailors that when he passed away, the Mariners Church rang the bell 30 times - once for each sailor lost and once for Lightfoot.

Today is the day we remember the Fitz and the thousands of ships and sailors who have died on the Great Lakes so that we can live comfortably. I encourage you to look into the lesser-known ships that have gone down into the depths of the Lakes, and to honor the memories of those who have lost their lives.

[warriyorcat]

My thing with fruits and vegetables is that they're not consistent. I can't expect them to taste the same each time and it's an issue. I don't mind grapes, but as soon as I get one that tastes bad or is mushy I won't eat them for months. I have similar issues with all fruits. It's part of the reason my diet is mostly carbs (as bad as that is) because goldfish and cheezits and chips and pretzels and popcorn all taste the same no matter what. I don't have to guess if it's going to be a good chip or a bad chip, it's going to taste like chip. The same cannot be said for fruit tho. Sure that strawberry looks okay, but as soon as you bite into it you're going to spit it back out because it's literally the worst thing you've ever tasted

Thinking today about how as someone with major texture issues around most fruits and vegetables, it would have helped so much if someone had come to me years ago and said

Hey:

Make it tiny

Mix it with something Good Texture that you like

"Eat healthy!" they say, and then they show you pictures of a smiling woman digging a fork into half a butternut squash or eyeing a bowl of whole blueberries like a ravening wolf and your spine wants to crawl out through your skull at the thought of that Texture in your mouth.

But you know what I can do? Cut zucchini into paper-thin slices and cook it with noodles and marinara. Chop that spinach fine and scramble it with eggs and cheese. If I'm having a day where the thought of a grape popping in my mouth makes me nauseous, I can cut it in half. My chinese takeout gets diced into tiny pieces and mixed into the rice. It doesn't work with everything - seeds are still a Major Problem - but the number of fruits and veg and even world cuisines that I can eat has expanded SO MUCH since I discovered this. YMMV, but it's such a stupidly simple thing to do, and nobody ever told me.

[heavywithfire]

After 19 years, my Katrina PTSD has mostly dissipated, only really flaring up around the anniversary and whenever we have to evacuate from a storm.

And then someone brings up Sheri Fink’s Five Days At Memorial and then my mind just goes black with rage and I want to rip out their eyes with my bare hands.

[juniperskye]

I Can’t Do This.

Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5605

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.

“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.

“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.

“Okay.”

With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.

--

“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.

“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.

You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.

“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”

--

“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.

“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”

“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.

“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”

“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.

“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”

“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”

“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”

“Fine.”

--

You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.

Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.

After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.

--

Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.

“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.

“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.

“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”

Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.

--

“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.

“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.

“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.

--

“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.

With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.

“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.

You sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.

“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”

“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.

“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”

“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”

--

“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.

You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.

“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.

The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.

“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.

“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.

“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.

“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”

“No sir.” You reassured.

“Good.”

--

Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.

Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.

Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.

“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.

“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”

“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.

“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.

Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.

“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”

You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.

In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.

“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.

“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.

“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.

“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.

--

“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”

“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.

“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.

“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”

“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.

“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”

“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.

You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?

“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.

You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.

“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”

“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”

Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.

It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.

--

A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.

“Hotch, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”

“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”

Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable around him and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.

“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”

“Yes.”  You sighed.

In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.

“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.

“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.

“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”

“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.

“Well…

--

“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.

“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.

“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.

“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.

“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.

It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.

“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.

“Not now!” Emilio growled.

“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.

Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.

Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.

“Yes sir.”

--

“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.

“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.

“I’m glad I did too.”

--

The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.

“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”

You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?

“I could do that.”

“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.

“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.

“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”

--

You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.

After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Oh, sure.” You agreed.

The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.

“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.

You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.

“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.

“I got it.” Hotch

Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.

You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.

--

“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.

You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.

“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.

“I’m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”

“I will.”

--

“…and I just stood there.”

“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.

“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.

“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.

“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”

“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”

“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”

--

The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.

Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.

The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.

“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.

“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”

Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.

“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”

“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.

“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.

“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.

“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”

“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.

Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.

“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.

“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.

“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.

“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.

As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.

As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.

“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.

--

“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.

“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”

Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.

“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.

You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.

“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.

“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.

Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.

That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.

--

“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”

“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.

--

You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.

“Hotch.”  You gasped.

“Y/n can we talk?”

You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.

“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.

“You were trying to protect me?”

“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”

“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”

“Please say that again.” He whispered.

“Aaron.”

He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.

“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”

Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

[sophia-sol]

Every year at about this time (...very approximately) I post a reclist of 10 short stories I particularly enjoyed reading in the last year, all of which can be read online for free. Here's the latest list, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

1. Sestu Hunts the Last Deer in Heaven - MH Cheung Beautiful and odd. A story of what happens after you've killed the gods, the unexpected realities and the things you have to live with. I love stories about after the climactic things traditional fantasy narratives are about, and this one excels!

2. If You Find Yourself Speaking to God, Address God with the Informal You - John Chu Two butch Asian weightlifter dudes bonding with each other and then dating, and one of them happens to have superpowers, but the superpowers aren't the focus. This is SO charming!!

3. Two Hands, Wrapped in Gold - SB Divya This is a really cool retelling of the classic fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin from the Rumpelstiltskin character's pov, building out the world and his background and making him a sympathetic character with a specific history. Haven't seen a fairy tale retelling quite like this before and it's great! And I say that as a connoisseur of fairy tale retellings.

4. A Farce to Suit the New Girl - Rebecca Fraimow A troupe of Jewish actors in Russia, in a time of political upheaval. This story has such a good and powerful feeling of activity and forward momentum, and of the way a community supports people even if things are weird or complicated! I love every single character and how firmly they are themselves.

5. Sheri, At This Very Moment - Bianca Sayan The sacrifices you make to spend time with the ones you love - a snapshot of one brief visit together, out of two lives that only rarely get to align. Made me teary the first time I read it!

6. Spirochete - Anneke Schwob An engaging second-person pov story about possession and identity. It has such a great sense of timing! And the last line GOT me even on second read when I hypothetically knew what was coming!

7. To Embody a Wildfire Starting - Iona Datt Sharma Ahhhhhh this story is so good at embodying the horrible complexities of the choices people make in the worst of situations, that good and bad and divine and evil and just plain personness can all reside in one being. Also it's about a dragon society and the revolutionary humans who tried to make everyone into dragons, and also about parent-child relationships, and also about a bunch of other things. God it's good.

8. Obsolesce - Nadine Aurora Tabing Is it really me if I don't have at least ONE story about robots in my rec lists? (actually I just went back and checked and in multiple previous years I inexplicably didn't, maybe it wasn't me writing the reclist in those years lol) ANYWAY who wants to have sad feelings about robots again! I know I always do! In a world where anyone who has a physical body instead of having their consciousness transferred is more and more obsolete, no matter if your body is human or robot, what do you hold onto? This one has a real good melancholy tone.

9. Letters from a Travelling Man - WJ Tattersdill ....does what it says on the tin. Letters to a dear friend, from a man travelling for the first time to the unfamiliar part of the world that friend comes from. I love the sense of place you get from the letters, as well as the deep and abiding importance of this friendship in both their lives. Another one I cried over!

10. Texts from the Ghost War - Alex Yuschik Another epistolary one, but this time in text messages instead of letters, and between characters who start the story antagonistically! About mech pilots in a ghost war, and making connections, and finding things to care about, even when stuff sucks. I love them!! (also, I am inescapably me, whoops, it took me until I read some fanfic of this story to realize that almost certainly the story was meant to be canonically shipping the two leads, I never notice romance unless there's anvil-sized indications.) Anyway this is a really good story!

[warriyorcat]

the true "ultra religious" are the ones who follow their religion and not shit on everyone else for not following their religion. I'm Christian (ELCA Lutheran), so I won't speak for other religions, but the true "ultra religious Christians" to me are the ones who try their best to follow God's two biggest commandments: love God and love your neighbor. The ultra Christians tend to forget that last part for whatever reason.

[nerdygaymormon]

I was listening to a podcast of Sheri Dew and Elder Holland and he talks about his musket talk at BYU. Have you listened to it? If so, what did you think about that part and how he talks about how much he's cried?

I was not aware of this, thank you for bringing it to my attention. For everyone who is interested, here's a link.

He speaks quite a bit about how this has been a tough year for him as he has lost his wife and his health challenges, he speaks a tribute to his wife, he follows this by talking about his faith in the Book of Mormon. He follows up by saying that people wrestle with questions which cause them to lose faith and he mentions race, church history, and LGBTQ issues. He says to cling to what faith you have and these other things will get sorted out.

At 34:32, Sheri Dew asks about his remarks at BYU 3 years ago, which most of us know as his musket fire talk. He speaks for 3.2 minutes, going to 37:52

Elder Holland said what he was trying to get across to BYU leaders is to be loyal to the LDS Church's teachings, not to say things which challenge those teachings or are aimed at church leaders. He knows that some were hurt by his remarks, and that their pain hurts him and he's wept for 3 years. He's wept as he meets with BYU students who experience "gender issues." He loves them. He declared that the BYU campus is safe for everyone. He has spent hours and hours and hours meeting with "kids who struggle with gay issues."

I'm glad he was willing to speak about this, and he spends a lot of time talking about how much he's wept and how he is hurt because other people felt hurt. It's obvious he feels deeply about this.

However, his remarks left me feeling a certain way, and I don't think it's the way he hoped.

If LGBTQ students are so safe at BYU, why is he needing to meet with so many who are struggling?

How did his address to faculty and staff to defend "the doctrine of the family and defending marriage as the union of a man and a woman" help make campus more safe for queer students?

If he recognizes that his remarks hurt many, why is his speech now included in a class required of BYU freshmen?

Did he ever apologize to Matt Easton, the gay valedictorian, whom he publicly called out in his speech?

If BYU is safe for queer students, why can't they have an on-campus student group?

Why are the university's LGBTQ resources located in the Women's Services office and not in the Office of Belonging where other anti-discrimination & inclusion efforts are located?

I'm aware that our top LDS leaders have a policy of not apologizing. I feel that Elder Holland tries to come close to doing so in these comments. Even if he's not apologizing for defending teachings which exclude and marginalize queer people, I wish he would've said something like he wishes he phrased things in a way that was less hurtful.

I know gay individuals who have met with Elder Holland and share that he was caring, and wept with them. He is aware of the hurt and pain they experience in this church.

It sounded like this podcast episode was recorded near the beginning of August, shortly before the latest Handbook changes regarding transgender members was released. I suppose he feels hurt because of the trans members who feel hurt by the latest restrictions, and it causes him to weep. We need more than his tears.

[abitohoney]

Workplace Violations

AO3 link

Grayson x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Tags: Pining, Enforcer Reader, Power Bottom Grayson, Soft Top Reader, Dom/sub Undertones, Soft Dom Grayson, Sub Reader, Smut, Praise Kink (For both), Lesbian Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Voice Kink, Porn with Feelings

Word count: 5.9k

Summary: Sheriff Grayson, your superior and apparently not-so-secret crush, has been under considerable stress as of late. So when you offer your aid via several means of relaxation, she isn’t about to refuse. And when she suggests some additional techniques that just so happen to be considerably less… conventional than others, well who are you to deny your superior?

AN: Already on AO3, just copying it over here. This was for an anon request from WAY too long ago. I'm very far behind on requests. 😩

To say today had been exhausting for Grayson would be a severe understatement. But, really, it's been far longer than just today. More like a hell of a year. Today just happened to be the shitty ass icing on the shitty ass cake. Sheriff Grayson (your superior and mentor for just over a year now) had spent the afternoon down in the Undercity. You (her faithful lap dog as some down there would call you) were at her side while she was trying to cut a deal with Vander to address the rising crime in Piltover. Crime carried out, very obviously, by the citizens of the Undercity. Grayson- bless her patience, understanding, and willingness to compromise- had gone from being chewed out by the Piltover council that morning for not doing enough, to being chewed out by the Undercity's overseers for doing too much. She just couldn't win. It was honestly heartbreaking for you to watch all of it. You knew it was wearing on her. She wore that confidence and carried out that grit with both the city she served and the poor repressed city beneath it. However, the moment she was back alone- well, besides you- in her office, she'd let that facade crumble and show just how utterly defeated she felt.

Striding into her office with you in tow not far behind, Grayson flops down onto the tall back chair at her desk with a resigned sigh. Leaning back, she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her hooked nose. "Fuck," she exhales under her breath.

Her raspy voice, something you've been rather fond of since the first time you heard her speak, is strained even more than usual. You shift from one foot to the other from where you stand at the opposite side of the desk, struggling with what to do or say to help her.

"Sheriff, if I may," you begin softly, flinching when you see her brows furrow deeper.

“You know that formality is not necessary when we are alone.”

"Grayson," you correct yourself and she seems to at least relax her brows a bit at that. "I know things have been rough with trying to keep the peace between Piltover and the Undercity. It may seem like everyone thinks you're failing. But, I know there are people who do see the effort you're putting into this. They see and appreciate your genuine compassion for both sides. I know I do. And I- well, I'm quite proud to work for you."

Removing her fingers from her nose, she opens her eyes to regard you with a considerably softer expression. Her lips curl into a small, contented smile and you can't help the way that makes your heart skip a beat. "You're too kind, dear," she sighs. "Sometimes I wonder if you're too kind for this job."

And there went that little bit of hope you felt.

She must have noticed too, her eyes going wide for a moment before she starts backpedaling. "That's not what I meant. You're very good at your job. Why else do you think I only ever take you along on my most important tasks? What I meant is that it's not good for you. I don't want to see you so let down when things don't go as planned." Her already beautifully raspy voice is even heavier than usual, weighed down by how exhausted she is.

And it just breaks your heart.

"Sheri- Grayson, it's- it's not so much when things don't go as planned. It's when I see how much it hurts you," you admit, and you fear she can see the way your cheeks redden when she raises a brow.

She releases another heavy sigh and shakes her head. "Please don't worry about me, dear. I'll be just fine." Her tired eyes drift from you to the tall cabinet along the wall just to your right, where she stores her secret stash of liquid relaxation.

Secret to everyone besides you that is.

"Can I get you a drink?" You offer with a smile.

Her eyes brighten just a tad when they flit back to you. "Only if you pour one for yourself as well." The corner of her mouth tugs into a tiny smile before she adds, "And talk with me."

“Gladly,” you reply, and you hope she doesn’t catch how your smile grows dramatically at her request. Quickly, you head to the cabinet, removing two tall flute glasses from the upper half, then an unopened bottle of champagne from the refrigerated lower half.

Setting the glasses on her desk, you can feel her gaze on you as you attempt, with some minor difficulty, to remove the foil from the bottle.

“Need help with that?” she asks, amusement evident in the lilt of her voice.

You’ve only done this a couple of times, but you want her to relax. And you want to impress her with how cleanly you can do this.

“No. I’ve got it,” you reply. Once you’ve pried the wire cage loose, you aim the bottle away from both of you, just in case your statement turns out to be a lie. With one hand wrapped firmly around the bottle and one around the cork, you give both a good twist. The cork slips out with a resounding pop, but it’s controlled. Not so much as a drop is spilled. Grabbing one of the glasses, you carefully pour one and hand it to Grayson before pouring one for yourself.

"Nicely done," Grayson laughs as she taps her glass to yours. "To good company during less than good times."

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, and you hope she doesn't notice. "To a wonderful Sheriff," you say softly before bringing the glass to your mouth. You pause though, enraptured by the view of Grayson's lips through her own glass. They curl into a smile you've never seen her give anyone else in her presence. As you watch the way her bottom lip presses against the rim, your mind wanders to places it probably shouldn't. What would those lips feel like pressed against your own? On your neck? On your-

"Are you going to just stand there all evening, dear?"

Grayson's teasing and subsequent short chuckle snap you out of your daydream.

"S-sorry," you stammer. You duck your head, hoping she won’t notice your embarrassment as you scurry to take a seat in the chair at the opposite side of her desk. She simply grins at you, and despite it being over your own silly fumble, you can't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest that you're the one to cause it.

The two of you drink for some time. Exactly how long, you're not certain, but it's long enough for the two of you to down the last bit of champagne. Long enough for you to really start feeling those drinks kick in.

The alcohol toys with your senses. It leaves your judgment lacking, and your control lowered. You don't even realize how you're so blatantly admiring Grayson from across the desk as she stares wistfully off into the distance, reminiscing over her younger years. Nor how your eyes linger on her beautifully chiseled jaw and cheekbones, the swell of her chest. Or how you lick your lips when you watch, with blatant interest, as she lifts her glass and presses it against her lips to take a drink. Or how you shift in your seat when you see the bobbing motion down her neck as she swallows.

When did it get so hot in here?

Your focus shifts to the way her shoulders and back tense when she leans forward to rest her elbows on her desk. "Can I give you a massage?"

You bring a hand to your mouth, clearly too late to cover your slip. If your cheeks weren't already warm from the alcohol, they certainly would be now.

Grayson turns to you and stares, wide-eyed, for a moment, but says nothing.

"That was inappropriate of me to ask you," you finally blurt out after what feels like an eternity stewing in your own embarrassment. "I'm so sor-"

"Yes," Grayson interrupts.

Your mouth hangs open briefly before you’re able to form a reply. "What?" You ask dumbly.

"I would like that," she replies. “I could really use something to help relax right now.”

You stand— a bit too quickly. In your inebriated enthusiasm, you start to lose your balance. Catching yourself with a hand on the edge of her desk, you pray she doesn’t notice. You glance in her direction. Of course she noticed. Those sharp eyes are honed in on your hand. The one very obviously keeping you from toppling over.

Damnit.

“Perhaps another time,” she suggests, but the corner of her mouth curls just the tiniest amount in amusement.

Laughing awkwardly, you shake your head. “No. I’m good.” Feeling steady enough, you make your way behind her chair. Even with the alcohol to help calm your nerves, you still can’t shake the nervous feeling that washes over you. You're about to put your hands on Grayson, even if it’s just some innocent shoulder massages.

Innocent. Completely innocent.

Grayson normally stands a decent amount taller than you, but with her seated and you standing, it’s almost dizzying to have this bit of height over her. Slipping your hands over her shoulders, you run your palms back and forth across them several times. Glancing down, you find the view is going to be rather… distracting. Her uniform hugs the curves of her breasts a little too nicely.

So much for innocent.

Trying to keep your thoughts from drifting to places they shouldn’t, you turn your attention to the thick hair that covers the top of her head. As you start to incorporate gentle squeezing into your ministrations, you can feel the tense muscles beneath your hands start to relax bit by bit.

Grayson releases a quiet, deep hum of approval before taking a sip of her drink. “That’s lovely,” she rasps.

Janna, her voice is like fucking velvet.

You start to get a bit rougher with your hands, really digging at some of those stubborn knots. Her shoulders suddenly jerk, and you freeze, afraid you hurt her. Before you can apologize, that delightfully husky voice cuts through the air again.

“Mmmm. Right there, sweetheart. That feels wonderful.”

Sweetheart? Sweetheart?! Does she have any idea what she's doing to you right now? Innocence be damned. The way she fucking says those specific words. The possible connotation… used in a different… situation. Oh, what you would give to have that be the case. You quickly resume the massage, making sure you do exactly what you were doing to get her to drop that sweet praise.

Grayson’s eyes close and her head lulls back against the chair. The new position reveals a delightful stretch of her neck. And her face. Her blissful expression. Those slightly parted, wet lips. All at your doing.

"Lower," she husks.

You blink. "What?"

"You can go lower," she replies, and goodness, that incredibly sexy voice of hers has somehow gotten even huskier. Sultrier. And… suggestive?

As much as you want to think she means nice lower on her front side, you know that can't possibly be it. So you let your hands slide lower down her back. At least until you catch her eyes opening and flashing up to you as she arches a brow.

Oh my.

You start to reverse your path and her smile returns. She's watching your face so close that it only adds to the sudden, exponential increase in your body temperature. As the tips of your fingers just barely graze over the swell of her breasts, you freeze again.

Can you do this? Should you do this? You want to. She apparently wants you to. But it's not right, is it?

Apparently noticing your distress, Grayson places a hand gently on one of yours. "Only if you want to, sweetheart," she says quietly.

Oh, sweet Janna.

"Are you alright?" She asks, breaking you from your momentary daze.

"I- Yes. Why?" You manage to get out.

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, you just whimpered something along the lines of Oh sweet Janna."

Thank goodness your cheeks are already flush with the effects of consuming entirely too much alcohol, because the way your face burns at the realization of your slip, you could probably set fire to her hair if you got any closer.

“I’m- I’m okay,” you stammer. “Just had a bit too much to drink.” It’s not exactly a lie. Thankfully she appears to be satisfied with your answer, as her hand slides back down to rest on the arm of her chair.

Slowly, you let your hands travel further down before grabbing a handful of each of her breasts. You squeeze, gently, and the soft moan that pulls from her throat nearly has you moaning all the same.

You've only dreamed of this moment for the past several months. Only ever thought it would be a dream. Nothing more. Simply fantasizing about what you'd like to do to her. How you'd like to touch her. How you'd like to please her. Yet, here you are, in her office just fucking groping her, kneading her breasts as if this was an entirely normal occurrence between you two. And she seems to be enjoying it just as much as you are. Her eyes have fallen shut and her lips are pulled into a soft smile. Such a beautiful smile. And kissable lips-

“Open my jacket.”

“I’m- I’m sorry?” you stutter, blinking several times. Then you realize she's staring up at you expectantly.

“Come now. No more playing coy with me. You think I haven’t noticed how you watch me. How you hang on every word I say, even when it’s not work-related? Your hands are already on my tits, now just get my damn clothes out of the way.”

“Grayson, I- I-” you stammer.

What are you even supposed to say to that? She knows you've been infatuated with her? Have you really been that obvious? And she’s okay with it? Is the feeling mutual? She’s asking you to take her clothes off and touch her… so it must be, right?

You must be dreaming. It's the only logical explanation.

Hesitantly, you reach your hands down to release the clasps on her jacket. You’re not sure if it’s from nerves, excitement, or a bit of both, but your hands shake noticeably. Hopefully, she doesn’t notice. As you lean over her, stretching to reach that last clasp just above her belt buckle, your face comes dangerously close to hers. So close that you can smell the hints of citrus and spice from her champagne and the crisp, clean scent of her starched blouse beneath the jacket. You take in a deep, quiet breath through your nose as you release the clasp.

“You smell wonderful,” you murmur what was supposed to be kept in your mind. Quickly catching your slip this time, you try to withdraw, but Grayson’s hand catches yours against her chest.

Grayson’s eyes meet yours as she tilts her head to regard you. “Listen, darling, all this demure behavior, the blushing, it’s all rather delightful. Flattering really. But, I need you to understand that I’m more than okay with what we’re doing. I wouldn’t be asking you to do this if it wasn’t what I wanted, now would I?”

“No,” you reply dumbly, averting your eyes from her gaze.

“Now if you are not comfortable with this, we can stop.”

Your eyes go wide and shoot back to hers. “No!” you nearly shout. Janna, you need to get a hold of yourself. “I- I mean I’ve only dreamt of touching you like this for…” you trail off and look away again, feeling as if you’ve already admitted too much.

“As have I,” Grayson says softly as she gives your hand a squeeze.

What?

You gape at her, utterly dumbfounded.

She chuckles at your expression, and it’s so wonderfully deep and heartfelt it makes your head spin. “Don’t look so surprised, darling. Hard not to fall for a pretty, sweet thing like you.”

If you could blush any harder, you certainly would. But at least now you’re feeling considerably more confident knowing she’s had eyes for you all this time as well.

“Shall we?” Grayson asks as she slips her hand away from yours to grasp the buckle of her belt. It’s a simple question, but the way her voice drops lower, laced with a suggestive tone- not to mention the way her lips curl into the slightest smirk- clearly there’s something else behind those two words.

You nod and she proceeds to open her belt while you unbutton her white blouse. Pushing her jacket and blouse further open, you find her donning a simple white satin bra. Not that your attention remains there long when there’s so much soft, supple cleavage sitting there waiting to be touched.

Feeling a bit more emboldened now, you don’t wait for her to tell you again. As you slide your hands down her warm, soft chest, you watch her expression closely. Her eyelids droop as you slip beneath the cups of her bra to take a generous amount of her in your hands and gently squeeze. The deep, quiet groans that escape her parted lips encourage you to keep doing exactly what you’re doing.

“You’re doing wonderful, love,” Grayson groans.

Love?

Now you’re downright swooning for this woman. The pet names. The praise. The confessions. The touching. The moans. It’s all so wonderful and perfect. She’s so perfect. And as you start to roll your fingers over her hardening nipples, her responses become so much more delightful.

The soft groans spilling from her mouth turn into a sharp gasp when you give each nipple a playful pinch. Her grip on the arms of the chair becomes so tight you can hear the wood creak. She adjusts in her seat, scooting forward enough to allow her to spread her strong thighs. “Fuck me,” she husks.

Lust-filled eyes meet yours and you realize she wasn’t just moaning expletives out of pleasure. That was a command.

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

“Come here.”

Though she’s rather unclear on where exactly here is, you’re fairly certain she means between her and her desk. You move quickly, but she’s apparently quite impatient. You’re no more than turned to face her and she’s practically ripping the front of your uniform open, leaving you just as exposed as she is. Even the little gasp that you suck in is cut short as she grabs you by the lapels of your jacket and pulls you onto her lap, forcing you to straddle her.

Your hands fly out to grasp at the back of her chair, fearful you’re going to knock heads with how forcefully she pulls you against her.

“Grays-” your startled cry is muffled by the sudden press of her lips to yours. But it doesn’t matter. You forget everything else because she’s fucking kissing you. And it’s nothing like you had ever imagined. It’s so much better. She tastes of citrus and spices, even a hint of coffee. And her lips are smooth, soft, and moving hungrily. Janna, she is kissing you hard, and wild. It’s not sloppy. She keeps it clean and respectable. But it’s so deep and passionate. Like she's been wanting to do this for as long as you have.

As you gather your bearings, you let your hands slip down to her shoulders. You cling to her as you try to match the intensity of her kiss, tilting your head to let your nose rest alongside hers. The thin satin of her bra, and the cotton of yours, do little to withhold the warmth and softness of your chests pressed together. It leaves you sighing into her mouth, which lends her the opportunity to delve her tongue inside to roll along yours.

When she finally pulls back and loosens her hold on your jacket, you’re left panting and wide-eyed. Meanwhile, she seems to still be intent on devouring you whole. Without warning she pulls the front of your bra down, releasing both breasts before grabbing a handful of each. She pushes you back until your head rests against the top of her desk. Then she leans over to take a nipple into her mouth and sucks. Hard.

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath. Her rough treatment- the downright manhandling- is a bit startling. You’re well aware of how tough this woman can get, but you’re usually the exception. She’s typically so calm, gentle, and tender when she’s alone with you. This is a complete contrast. But you are not complaining. Not. One. Bit.

You sink your hands into her thick, wavy hair, pulling her face closer as you feel her swirl that wonderful tongue around your hardened peak. The pleasure of her mouth sucking, licking, and tugging at one nipple while her hand roughly fondles the other makes you arch your back and squirm in her lap.

When she sits back up, releasing your breast with a wet pop, it takes you a moment to come to your senses. Your hands, still in her hair, loosen and slip down to her shoulders while she helps sit you back upright. You catch her expression through half-lidded eyes- and damn, she’s still just as ravenous looking as she was moments ago.

“On your knees,” she rasps. “Remove my pants.”

Still too dazed from the onslaught of physical attention, it takes you a moment to fully process her commands. However, the moment she starts to reposition her chair to give you more room, you quickly move to stand between her thighs. Eager eyes locked with hers, you sink to your knees between the spread of her legs.

With the help of her lifting her bottom off the chair, you quickly slip her pants and underwear down over the top of her boots. And as she settles back into her seat, legs together, you wonder if she’s toying with you. You peer up at her, and judging by the faint curl of her lips, that’s exactly what she’s doing. But you can play along with that.

With your hands hovering just over the tops of her knees, you ask, “May I?”

“Please, love. I didn’t call you over here to simply stare,” she teases, but you’re too enraptured by the lust laced in her gravelly voice to form any sort of reply.

You run the palms of your hands over her knees and slowly up the tops of her toned thighs. Your fingertips trace over cords of muscle beneath soft, warm skin. They tense as your thumbs slip to the insides, inching closer to the apex. Bottom lip clamped between your teeth, you guide her legs apart.

Oh heavens!

Not only can you see her arousal glistening at the edges of her entrance. You can smell it. Somehow, despite a long day, she still smells fresh and clean. Much like her hair. But there’s still that familiar musk that’s all too specific to that area. And it leaves you rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to satiate the growing ache between them.

With your thumbs drawing closer to her folds, you peer up at her through your lashes, waiting for her to give you permission. To tell you what she wants. It's clear that she enjoys the position of authority, of having that control and power, in more than just her job.

Grayson meets your gaze through heavy-lidded eyes and her mouth pulls into a small, appreciative grin. She runs the backs of her fingers along your warm cheek before giving you a nod to continue.

Eyes locked on her expression, you slowly slip one finger inside her. And it's heavenly. She's so incredibly warm, soft, and wet.

“You feel so good,” you murmur. And you’re not sure if the way she clenches around your digit is a result of the praise or just the stimulation, but the quiet groan she releases quickly distracts you from that thought. It’s absolutely divine. Hearing it in her raspy tone is enough to have you biting back your own moan.

“Heavens, Grayson. I think I could get off on your voice alone.”

This time, when her hips buck towards your hand, a strangled gasp falling from her parted lips, you know it’s definitely from your words alone.

Wow.

You watch, transfixed, as her lids fall heavier until you barely see her eyes through the tiny slits. And you wonder, if she’s feeling this great when you’ve only just begun to touch her, what will she be like once you really get going?

Apparently too lost in thought again, you don’t realize just how long you’ve been gaping at her until she’s opening her eyes to peer down at you expectantly.

“Darling, please.”

She says please, but you know damn well she’s not asking. She’s insisting. You whisper a sheepish apology and avert your eyes, focusing instead on your finger as you drag it back out. It's coated, glistening with her arousal. You want to taste her, but you can still feel her watchful eyes on you. Instead, you slip a second finger in, sinking both up to the last knuckle. This time, when she groans, and her thigh muscles flex beneath your other hand, you can't hold back your own breathy moan.

Grayson lifts her hips off the seat as you curl your fingers and drag the tips along her walls while pulling them back out.

You watch, awestruck, as her hands curl around the wooden armrests. A quick glance back up at her face reveals her eyes have fallen nearly shut again.

"Fuck," Grayson curses under her breath.

You repeat the motion- fingers straight in, then curled out- several times, delighting in every twitch of her muscles. Every raspy groan that escapes past her parted lips. Every jerk of her hips.

She looks so perfect. Her square jaw so tense with concentration, dark brows furrowed, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. A goddess.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” you whisper. And fuck, the way her head rolls back at your praise- you never in all your fantasies had imagined her like this. It leaves you teeming with such desire to please her, you can hardly think straight.

“Mouth,” she rasps between ragged breaths.

What?

“Use your mouth, love!”

That husky, breathless demand is enough to knock you out of your reverie to realize what she’s asking you to do. And you’re more than happy to oblige. Without breaking the rhythm you’ve set with your fingers, you scoot further between the spread of her knees, pushing her feet- bound by her pants around her boots- further beneath her chair. You peer up at her through your lashes once more, noticing how she’s watching you through the slits of her eyes, before letting your attention fall to the wet folds surrounding your fingers.

Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly drag the tip of your tongue from just above her entrance to the swollen bundle of nerves above. The taste of her floods your mouth.

“You taste so good,” you moan, but you’re not sure she can even hear you over her own deep groan. That is until you feel the way she clenches around your fingers and hear the almost guttural words that leave her throat.

“Oh fuck me.”

Wide-eyed, you’re not given a moment to respond to that reaction before you feel her fingers curl along the back of your head to pull, or rather shove, your mouth against her. Your muffled gasp quickly devolves into a soft moan. Nose buried in her thick curls, you inhale deeply. You’re met with a heady mixture of her arousal and the crisp scent of her soap. The insatiable need that forms a tight coil deep in your core drives an urge to touch yourself. To relieve some of that ache between your own legs. But you’re determined to focus on pleasuring Grayson.

Lips wrapped around her clit, you gently suck, just once, to gauge her reaction. And a reaction you get. Nails bite into the back of your scalp as Grayson inhales sharply from above you. Her muscles tense beneath where your other hand still rests on the top of her thigh.

Still feeling the desire to experiment and learn what gets you the best response, you swirl the tip of your tongue just around the sensitive bud. That one earns you a throaty groan and her grinding against your face.

"Don't tease," she husks.

If ever you were to lose yourself to sound alone, it would be to her voice right now. It's like gravel, but in the best way possible. So husky, deep, broken, and needy. And it makes her demand sound considerably less, well, demanding.

Despite the lack of severity in her tone, you still heed her instruction and press the flat of your tongue fully against her while scissoring your fingers. That combined motion elicits another one of those heavenly groans.

"Faster. Fuck me faster," She rasps.

You can feel her nails digging deeper into your scalp as she tries to set the pace, and you do your best to match that with your fingers. It doesn't take long for you to find the perfect cadence of sucking and licking, fingers curling and scissoring. One that has her releasing nothing but a series of curses and deep moans, all in that intoxicating voice of hers.

The moment you feel the muscles beneath your hands tense, you know she's reached the pinnacle. Aching to witness her undoing, you peer up at her through the lashes of your heavy lids. And oh Janna, you were already damn near bursting with your own arousal just with the sound of her, but now to see the normally cool and composed Grayson a complete wreck, there's no word to describe how turned on you are. Her jaw is slack, brows pinched, chest heaving, and hairline covered in a fine sheen of sweat. But that's not even the best part. At some point, the hand she'd been using to clutch at the armrest is now groping at her own breast.

Grayson's glassy eyes meet yours, and you try to convey to her without words just how wonderful she is. How she entices you through literally every sense. How you want, so bad, to make her cum. For her to release all that built-up tension.

She must see it in your eyes, because within a mere breath, you feel her muscles tense beneath your hand and her hips suddenly freeze. The hand at the back of your head holds you tight against her. A raspy, near breathless, curse falls from her open mouth, and- oh good heavens - you can feel her walls clench and spasm around your fingers. Warm, cum seeps past your fingers as you slowly help her ride out that sweet release. Captivated, you simply stare up at her through hooded eyes as she goes through the stages of her climax. 

When she meets your gaze again, the tiniest smile pulls at her lips. She gently rubs her fingers over the back of your head, soothing the little crescent-shaped indents she left there in her fervor.

She opens her mouth to speak, but freezes as both of you are rather abruptly ripped from your reveries by the door to her office swinging open unannounced.

Suddenly, you find your head clamped between two very powerful thighs, essentially locking your face and fingers in place as Grayson shoves you further beneath the desk while scooting further under herself. The hand in your hair protects you from knocking it against the desktop above, but as stunned and terrified as you are at potentially being caught going down on your superior, brain damage is the last of your concerns.

"Sheriff! There's been-"

The man's voice- a new recruit you recognize- suddenly trails off. No doubt because he's spotted Grayson in a rather suspiciously tousled state.

“Are- are you alright, ma’am?” he asks, taking in the sight of Grayson's open jacket, unbuttoned blouse, heaving chest, and the sweat at her brow and hairline.

Meanwhile, while stuffed into a terribly confined space, legs contorted in an odd manner to leave room for Grayson's legs, you find yourself struggling for oxygen. The death grip of Grayson's thighs around your head, along with the fear of stimulating her with any attempted movement, leaves your face buried deep against her cunt. But in all honesty, you think if you die right there from suffocation, is there really any better way to go than between the legs of Piltover's one and only drop-dead (pun intended) gorgeous sheriff?

“Yes! I’m fine! Besides the fact that one of my subordinates just barged into my private office without knocking," Grayson snaps.

Even though your sense of hearing is rather muffled, you can still detect that lingering husky panting in her tone. You've never heard her so… flustered. And you'd be lying if you said that didn't give you just a little stroke to the ego knowing you were the cause.

"Whatever it is, so long as none of my officers are bleeding, missing limbs, or on fire, surely it can wait until I've finished my work here.”

“Oh. I- I'm so sorry, ma’am,” the man stammers as he ducks out of the room as quickly as he came, nearly slamming the door shut behind him.

Grayson releases a long sigh as she leans back into her chair. Realizing that she's put you in peril, albeit a glorious one, she quickly scoots her chair back out and opens her legs.

When you're finally freed, you sit back on your haunches and suck in some much-needed oxygen.

"Fuck," Grayson heaves. "Are you alright, darling?"

You smile up at her sweetly, feeling plenty good and satisfied. Carefully pulling your fingers out from her warm cunt, you lock eyes with her as you slip them into your mouth and suck them clean.

"That's a good girl," Grayson coos. "Now come. Sit with me."

Slowly, you rise to your feet and straddle her lap. You rest your arms on her shoulders and she wraps hers around your waist. The two of you just smile at each other in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the views and the company.

"That was… so good, Grayson," you finally speak. "I damn near lost it just watching and listening to you."

Grayson says nothing. Instead, she slips a hand behind your neck and pulls you down for a kiss, but you can feel her smile. And you’re certain she can feel yours.

When she pulls back to admire your smile, you realize she is definitely much more relaxed now.

"So I take it my massage helped?" You jest.

"Oh it just certainly did," she chuckles. "So well, in fact, that if I wasn't concerned with the obvious conflict of interest, I'd say you deserve a hefty raise for this.”

"Well, maybe you could pay in another way?" You suggest with a mischievous grin.

"And what's that?" She asks with a cocked brow.

"Take me back to your place or come to mine and return the favor?"

"It would be my pleasure," she replies before pulling you in for another, much deeper kiss.

[ndconceptarchive]

Adventure Classic Gaming Interview with Megan Gaiser, Carolyn Bickford, and Sheri Hargus

Adventure Classic Gaming was,

"the premiere website dedicated to classic and retro adventure gaming. We seek to be a comprehensive online resource on classic adventure games and interactive fiction. Our site covers all gaming platforms, both computers and consoles. We cover games by both independent and commercial developers."

It appears that it's now defunct seeing as the most recent articles were uploaded in 2014, but you can still access the website even though it appears to be missing a CSS file.

Here is an interview from the website with Megan Gaiser in promotion for Stay Tuned for Danger published on June 12, 2000:

Founded in 1995, Her Interactive has taken a pioneering role in attracting girls to computer technology through attractive role-playing. The mission of this Washington-based publisher is to design, develop, and market intelligent interactive games for girls.

In 1997, the company has obtained a license from Simon & Schuster to develop an interactive mystery game series based on the legendary teen detective Nancy Drew. Its flagship titles, Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill and Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger, have received high praises from both critics and parents.

In this exclusive interview, Megan Gaiser (President), Carolyn Bickford (VP Sales and Marketing), and Sheri Hargus (Development Manager) speak about the company's unique mission, the popularity of Nancy Drew, and what holds in the future for this interactive series.

Sheri Hargus, Development Manager; Carolyn Bickford, VP Sales and Marketing; Megan Gaiser, President (left to right).

What (or who) is the inspiration behind the idea of taking Nancy Drew onto the computer screen?

Megan Gaiser: There are many reasons why we chose Nancy Drew to star in her own computer game series. History was one. Nancy Drew has fascinated girls for generations. We remembered as girls how eagerly we looked forward to getting our hands on the next Nancy Drew book - and realized that if we could create the same kind of anticipation for our games we would have major hits. Also, Nancy Drew is a powerful role model - she's brilliant, intrepid, and successful.

The Nancy Drew mysteries fit our search for content that was non-violent and that didn't rely on gender stereotypes. And, last but not least, mysteries make a great foundation for intelligent entertainment. Their complex plots provide infinite opportunity for adventure, exploration, and problem solving. There's a ready-made sense of community, as players seek help and advice from characters inside the game, from friends and family, and from online resources. Community is key to our plans to enhance our online presence.

Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger is developed and published by HerInteractive.com. HerInteractive.com has a unique mandate in developing non-violent games specifically for girls. Can you explain more fully about your company's unique mission? How do you plan to accomplish this mandate?

Megan Gaiser: Indeed, we are the only developer in the U.S. focused exclusively on the girls market, which is rather bizarre. There are more than 70 million girls in our target age range, and they have about $45 billion to spend each year. All of this potential has been largely ignored by the computer game industry, which found it could sell a lot of violent action games targeting the male audience, and has stayed in that rut ever since.

The market penetration for male-targeted games is near the saturation point. But there's still a wide-open opportunity to target the female half of the population. A recent study published by the American Association of University Women found that girls were largely turned off by the violent and repetitive nature of most games. If they're not buying games in large numbers, it's not because they don't like to play games, it's because few developers are designing games that appeal to them.

And those that do tend to rely pretty heavily on pink packaging, boy-talk and clothes. To assume that those are the only things girls are interested in is absurd. Our games don't use gender stereotypes to appeal to girls. Instead, they rely on the intrigue of a good mystery, and a smart, gutsy heroine. We believe that there should be as many types of games as there are types of girls. That creates such an exciting opportunity, and Nancy Drew is just the beginning.

For those readers who are unfamiliar with Nancy Drew, can you tell us a bit about the background of the legendary teen detective?

Megan Gaiser: Nancy Drew has been solving mysteries and inspiring millions of avid fans for 70 years.

Back in 1905, a writer named Edward Stratemeyer started a company that developed series of books for children. Edward would dream up plots and characters, and hire ghostwriters to write the books under pen names. He created the Hardy Boys in 1927, and just a few years later, he created Nancy Drew. When he died, his daughters ran the company and continued the Nancy Drew tradition.

Edward Stratemeyer's daughters, Harriet Adams and Edna Stratemeyer, made all decisions about what would happen with the Nancy Drew character. This was back in the 1930s when it was highly unusual for women to run a business. Their first ghostwriter for Nancy Drew was a strong, independent woman named Mildred Wirt Benson.

She was an athlete and a journalist, and she wrote Nancy to be just as adventurous as she was. As a matter of fact, at age 94 she's still a journalist, writing for her small town paper. HerInteractive.com sent her a copy of our first title, Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill - and she loved it! "Your computer game does exactly what I did when I was writing the books," she wrote. "It makes girls feel like they ARE Nancy Drew!"

In 1979 the Stratemeyer Syndicate signed a deal with Simon & Schuster to publish new books in the Nancy Drew Mystery Stories series. In 1982 Harriet Adams died, and in 1984 Simon & Schuster purchased the Syndicate, becoming both owner and publisher of Nancy Drew. Pocket Books gave the heroine a new look and updated the setting to appeal to Nancy's most recent generation of readers.

Her loyal girl friends Bess Marvin and George (Georgia) Fayne are still at her side, as is her boyfriend, Ned Nickerson. Nancy Drew's popularity spans the globe — she is currently translated into French, Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish, Dutch, Spanish, German, Brazilian, Portuguese, Czech, Hungarian, Polish and Malaysian. Over the years, she has been featured in movies and on television, and even had her own board game.

The core of the Nancy Drew publishing program, the Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, continues to be published six times a year by Pocket Books' Minstrel Book imprint. There are several other Nancy Drew series currently in publication, and a hot market exists for out-of-print copies of the original Nancy Drew books.

In 1998, HerInteractive.com brought Nancy Drew to the computer screen with the publication of Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill, followed in 1999 by Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger. Our goal is to make sure that the legendary teen detective clicks with a new generation.

Obtaining the license to use Nancy Drew must be a triumphal accomplishment for the company. How did you do it?

Megan Gaiser: We made a strong case to Simon and Schuster, convincing them that we had the talent, and the passion, to faithfully adapt their teen icon to the computer screen. The critical success of our earlier work played a big part. We have a highly qualified development team.

In addition, we demonstrated a clear understanding of what girls were looking for in computer games, based on extensive focus group research and input from our Teen Advisory Board.

Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill and Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger are two titles from the Nancy Drew: Interactive Mystery Games series. How many titles are planned for the series? At what stages of development are they now?

Megan Gaiser: Nancy Drew: Message in the Haunted Mansion is in development and scheduled for a September release. There are over 140 books in the Nancy Dew series - so we certainly have a wealth of content for future games. We believe that we can create a new generation of Nancy Drew fans who eagerly await each new interactive mystery. And now broadband and the Internet offer Nancy a whole new environment to explore, and we intend to take her there.

How long did it take to develop each game? Are all designing tools developed in-house?

Sheri Hargus: It takes from nine months to one year to develop each game. This is the total time from game conception to shipment. The entire team participates in the design process and we spend a good deal of time up front in developing the plot, characters, environments, puzzles and game flow. We have found that early attention to the entire design allows us to stay on schedule and create a superior product.

The art team uses mostly off-the-shelf tools such as Photoshop and 3D Studio Max. The programming is done in C++ and is built upon a proprietary game engine that has been developed internally. DirectDraw is also used and installed as part of the game installation.

At what age of audience do your games aim? What do you feel are the key attractions of the Nancy Drew Interactive Mystery Games?

Megan Gaiser: Our games are designed for girls ages 10 - 15. We are finding that their appeal is actually much broader than that; younger girls are playing them with their sisters or their moms.

And women who grew up devouring every Nancy Drew mystery are eagerly buying the games for themselves. Many computer games portray women in very limited roles - women are too often just the "prize" or the damsel in distress. Nancy Drew breaks many of these molds — she's smart, self-reliant, adventurous — and in the end she is always successful.

In the gaming industry, until recently, girls were never really asked what they wanted in computer games. We asked, and heard they were not satisfied with the status quo of computer gaming: the violence, the lack of storylines, the secret rules. This led us to breakthrough ideas that are a step forward for the gaming industry as a whole. We incorporated all of this knowledge into the Nancy Drew games. And we listen carefully, and then act on, all of the feedback we get from every game.

What is the style of game play in Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger?

Sheri Hargus: The game is a visually stunning single-person adventure and problem-solving interactive mystery. The player navigates smoothly through different game locations, seeing everything through the eyes of Nancy Drew. Each location has rooms and environments to explore; it's loaded with clues, puzzles and other characters. Interaction with characters is through a dialog box where the player is allowed to select different responses and questions while engaged in conversations with the game characters.

The player has the ability to turn completely around in any node by clicking on the left or right sides of the game window. Player input occurs through mouse clicking on hotspots with occasional keyboard input also needed. The player can fail the game in several ways but it is always possible to restart and try again from the same game position. On the average, it takes 10-20 hours for a player to successfully solve the mystery and complete the game.

Both Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill and Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger won numerous praises from critics, but what kind of feedback have you got from parents?

Megan Gaiser: We just found out that Nancy Drew: Stay Tuned for Danger is the winner of this year's prestigious Parents' Choice Gold Award for software in the 10 - 18 age group. That reflects the positive reception we've received from so many parents. Our games are cool without cruelty, the perfect answer for parents who would like to give their teen a non-violent game that's not totally lame.

We have heard from moms and daughters who have had a great time solving our interactive mysteries together. It takes on average about 15 hours to crack the case, and two heads are always better than one. Mothers tell us they really like sharing the Nancy they grew up with their daughters. Plus, they have a lot of fun playing the game. We have found that moms (and even dads) are avid participants in many of the online chats about the games - so we know that girls aren't the only people playing our games!

How can we order these games? Are they available only online (rather than retail sales)? If so, why?

Megan Gaiser: The games can be ordered through our own website, http://www.herinteractive.com They are also available through many online retailers, including Amazon (where Nancy Drew Stay Tuned for Danger has been in the Top Ten Children's Titles ever since it's release), eToys and Beyond.com.

Bricks and mortar shelf space has been hard to come by; we're a very small publisher in an emerging category. But we are making progress toward obtaining broader distribution by this Christmas — the critical and online sales successes of our first two titles are starting to open some doors.

What holds in the future for Nancy Drew (i.e. sequels)?

Megan Gaiser: Looking beyond the September release of Nancy Drew: Message in the Haunted Mansion; we have a long list of Nancy Drew stories that would translate into fabulous interactive games. We're also looking at other licenses to expand the game playing options "for girls who aren't afraid of a mouse." There are lots of different types of girls, and there are so many wonderful characters that could star as our next interactive idol!

[warriyorcat]

Technically speaking, taking the Lord's name in vain isn't 'goddammit or cussing. It's saying things like 'God says all gay people go to hell' that's actually taking the lord's name in vain

*Originally this commandment was a long list of things not to covet, floating across any number of commandments depending on jurisdiction, so I'm letting it stand at all covetousness for the sake of brevity. Also, sorry if the itemized breakdown above is not according to your original set of commandments, different religions and sects group them differently and I went with the easiest set to vote on.

[warriyorcat]

*PSA*

I FUCKING HATE FLORIDA

HOW TF DOES ANYONE LIVE THERE

LIKE ACTUALLY ITS HORRENDOUS -22/10 WOULD NOT RECOMMEND

I WOULDN'T FEEL THAT BAD IF WE SAWED FLORIDA OFF THE CONTINENTAL US. OR GAVE IT BACK TO SPAIN. OR NUKED IT. ITS THE WORST PLACE IVE EVER BEEN

[cloveroctobers]

LITTLE DARK AGE — Bode Leone x Reader x Fire Country? [October Prompts] 🧡

A/N: It’s still early into the new season but there’s always potential for me to write more for reckless bode lol. This was a quick write tbh because it definitely could have been longer but I’ve barely had time to write so for those of you who like the spooks, I hope you enjoy this one! Yet this is more of a platonic love (because those are important too!) along with the rest of the characters from fire country hence the question mark lol. + mentions of a character from Chicago Med because why not? Have a safe, fun, and happy Halloween ghoulies 🧡🥳!!!!!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: GENERAL PLOTS — SURVIVING SUMMER CAMP | possibilities: our muses survived a terrifying serial killing at camp as teens and now as adults we've returned to pay our respects for the nth anniversary. only for us to find that there's a copy cat killer. or maybe one of our muses is a journalist teen actor and the other a survivor.

WARNINGS: slight language + small references to what happened but nothing graphic for the soft Halloween lovers🤞🏽

<- Read my previous October anthology prompt here.

𐬺𖦹꧁��꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

The summer of 2006 at Camp Goulcrest has been described as one of the most horrific crimes that has ever taken place in Hadleigh, California. What was supposed to be an enjoyable time for young teens to spend their summer with other fellow teens…they would soon experience an unforgettable terror as their precious lives became targets to Hadleigh’s first and only known serial killer.

“I’ve just never expected anything so tragic to happen in a town like this.” Sixty-Three year old, Mary Dixie says with her clasped hands pressed to her mouth before speaking again, “My twin grandsons were supposed to attend that same camp next summer and now this happens? Those poor kids who lost their lives, their families, and oh for heaven’s sake, those young survivors!” She gasps while the camera zooms in on her face, as if she thinking about it for the first time, “I can’t even imagine what they’ve went through and will continue to go through. Although Edgewater—where those kids are from—isn’t that far from us, This has also affected the community of Hadleigh and our deepest sympathies are always with them. It feels as if god is telling us that the dark age is near. I’m glad they caught the bastard but may god be with us all!”

𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

Attempting to keep up and not have your ankles roll as you’re being dragged along by the collar, the last trip on a branch irks your nerves just enough for you to snap up at the dark haired man who has his paws on you, “If this is how you treat a lady, then I see why you’re still single.”

He stops in his tracks to glare down at you, “I see you still have a mouth on you.”

You grin up at him, making sure it’s full of sarcasm until the slowly heated exchange is interrupted.

“Hey, Luke! What’re you doing?” The familiar voice catches both of your attention, turning to see Vince Leone making his way over with his wife, Sharon right in tow.

Now those were much better faces to look at!

Luke only pulls on the collar of your jacket some more but that doesn’t stop you from trying to yank yourself from his grasp. “I found this one lurking about fifty yards away in the trees. That tells me everything that I need to know.”

“Oh? Does it?” You mock.

Sharon snickers while Vince tightens his stare at you as he says your name, “…what’re you doing out here kid?”

“I’m back in town and thought taking a stroll to the one place that handed me a nice portion of trauma, would be a good idea.” You state while Vince scoffs and Luke rolls his eyes, never finding your antics to be amusing like everyone else.

Luke huffs, “We’re never going to get a straight answer out of them. Which is exactly why I’ve called it in, one of the cops will take you in since the sheriff will be expecting you.”

“Wait, what?” Sharon questions, “You can’t just go around speculating things, Luke. That’s what gets your ass in trouble all the time.”

The man frowns, knowing that was a jab and thought they were all past that.

“What other explanation would there be?” Luke quizzes, “This old abandoned camp, where the most gruesome murders took place, which they were involved in, along with your son, my nephew, happened eighteen years ago—

Vince holds his hands up, “We don’t need a history lesson, Luke. And I’m sure they don’t either.”

“…im just saying,” Luke sighs, “it’s suspicious that this place almost burned down and yet I find the one person, who has the closest connection to it, just lingering in the woods.”

You’re looking down at your nails, wondering where you could find a good nail shop…definitely not in Hadleigh’s small ghost town, that’s for sure! You only just got here two hours ago, spending majority of the time at the diner where the vanilla milkshake was giving cream sickle instead and the chicken and dumplings had extra seasoning of flies.

It took you a minute to bite the bullet to even get out to this camp but it’s not like Luke Leone bothered to hear any of that.

“Well who do you think called it in, Mr. Know it all?” You piped up, “Yeah that’s right, me! I watched the cabins go up in flames because that’s where it started before it spread.”

Luke glances at his big brother and sister-in-law.

“I think you can let go of them now,” Vince encourages but Luke still hesitates.

You pluck Luke’s wrist, making him focus back on you with a sneer. “That’s Ferragamo you’re messing up and I know you would hate to see the bill.”

“How humble of you.” Luke mutters with another roll of his eyes, “Is it sustainable?” He picks as he finally lets you go with a fling of his wrist.

Fixing your jacket yourself you sigh, “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask my auntie for you and see what she says, oh wait…she hates you too.”

That struck a nerve because the next thing you know, Luke is ready to put his finger in your smug face but Sharon steps in, shoving his wrist right back to his side, sending him a stern look before turning back to you. She takes one look at you before slipping an arm across your shoulders and leads you back to where the rest of the firefighters are just about finishing the clean up.

“It’s good to see you,” Sharon starts, always having this nurturing energy about her, “Just didn’t expect it to be like this. You know this is going to be a lot of shit now.”

You cover up a yawn before tilting your head towards the blunt haired woman with a lazy smile, “When isn’t it, Mrs. Leone?”

Equally she sends you a small smile, in an attempt to be comforting. For as long as you known the woman, she was pretty good at reading people. If your mother had lived long enough and didn’t have two older sisters who would do just about anything for you, you were certain that she would have made Sharon your god-mother instead. Plus Sharon lived for the celeb gossip and was always rooting for you, not just in the limelight either.

She turns you by the forearms while Vince is having a hushed conversation—well somewhat—since Luke has definitely raised his voice and is pointing at you, while Vince is caressing at his facial hair in frustration.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Sharon takes her eyes off the two as well, “You’re gonna go with the cops and cooperate because you have nothing to hide. Vince and I will meet you there.”

You nod, not surprised that the older woman didn’t bother to hear much else of your story. Sharon had the upmost respect and trust in you still, even though you both couldn’t recall what year was the last time you visited Edgewater. All you remembered was it was sometime in the fall where your aunties put together this big event at their Victorian cottage and that always got the people talking.

“Promise not to tell my aunties?”

Sharon laughed, “And stress those highly spiritual ladies out over nothing?! I wouldn’t dare and leave that all up to you, girlfriend!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Sharon.”

“Course.” Sharon squeezes your shoulders, “Now try not to make much of a scene since Bode, Jake, and Eve all realize it’s you that I’m talking to.”

A crooked smile spreads over your lips while a throat clears. You turn to see a burly cop waiting for you with one hand on his waistband.

“Where the hell did they find you?” You ask, sizing him up just as the man states your first and last name.

He doesn’t bother answering your question and does a twirl with his finger, “Hands behind your back.”

Sharon begins, “Is that really necessary? They’re not gonna run—

Just as Sharon says this, you jerk to the right of the cop who was probably Samoan—if you had to guess—who easily follows your movements and latches onto your wrist. Playfully smiling up at him with your hands raised you say, “You’re fast, Mr…Mahuta.” You read off his chest, “Play any sports before becoming one with the law?”

Officer Mahuta glances at Sharon to see if you were in fact being so causal about this or it was just in his head. He was also new to the town, been here for six months and he heard some things about you along with your family but once he heard that you were back in town, he didn’t mind being the one in charge of bringing you in.

His sister was a fan.

“Uh yeah, Rugby back in New Zealand for about seven years.” He grins at you, honored that you kind of figured it out without him saying anything.

He even loosens his grip on your wrist, leaving you to clasp them behind yourself while winking at Sharon, who shakes her head at you.

“Oooh, New Zealand huh?” You continue the conversation as Officer Mahuta starts to cuff you, “I originally auditioned for a show that was supposed to film out there but the project got scrapped.”

Officer Mahuta begins leading you away by the elbow, “It’s the most serene place to be with the highest quality of life.”

“Yeah? So the pictures don’t do it any justice? Why leave and come to stinky Edgewater? was it a woman? Or man? Or person?” You quiz as you soon feel more eyes on you the more you get closer to the rest of the firefighters.

Officer Mahuta tells you about his wife and how they both made the decision to come back to help her ill parent. It took a turn for the worse so they ended up staying here much longer and found out they were expecting their own bundle of joy soon. It was nice to hear that some people still found blessings in disguise.

“Superstar?” Jake calls out to you, making you zone back and glance to your right where he stood with Eve.

Kicking that slight dissociation to the side you send a grin his way, “Guess who’s back?”

Eve mutters from Jake’s left, “It ain’t slim shady, that’s for sure.”

You laugh before your eyes shift further to see Bode making his way to stand beside Jake.

“Now what did you go and get yourself into?”

Is the first thing that slips out of Bode’s mouth.

You scoff, “Ask your unc, you know how obsessed he is with me and my whole family. Now that I’m here for who knows how long, it’s going to be marathon for him…because you know I’m about to give him hell.”

Bode side eyes the direction of where his Uncle Luke is, who’s now on the phone but his eyes are sharp on you as Officer Mahuta paused to let you converse with your old friends. His hand is raised in confusion, silently wondering why you’re getting special treatment but again his arm is shoved down but by his brother this time.

“I don’t doubt that.” Bode comments as Officer Mahuta lightly starts to steer you away at the widen stare Luke is sending him some feet away, “Let’s just hope it’s not you going to three rock this time.”

You snort, “Oh, I’m going to make them all look crazy for doing this, believe me. It’s going to be even more satisfying when I make Luke eat shit…so if you’re all not busy, would you care to meet up for breakfast or something tomorrow?”

Eve glances at the two men to her right and shrug, “As long as we’re not bombarded with your fans.”

“Don’t forget, apparently I’m not the only star here. At least in this town.” You tell as Officer Mahuta actually gets you moving again, per Luke’s visual request.

A equal shudder passes over the three but Bode is the one that answers redirecting it back to catching up and not the fact that they’re all standing on the grounds of the one place they tried to shove to their back of their minds, “Yeah. We’ll be there.”

“Great.” You state as you allow Officer Mahuta to lead you away into the night.

𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Bode asks from across you.

You lift your cheek from your balled up knuckles, “I’m just trying to figure out, when you decided you wanted to look like your damn grandad?”

Eve and Jake share a snicker, just as the waitress slides over your herbal tea. You thank her verbally and with your eyes before latching onto the mug then meeting Bode’s shining dark teal eyes.

“What? You’re not a fan of the new look?” Bode quizzes, while watching you barely blow on the tea before sipping at the liquid.

It was a thing, you not caring about how hot the food is temperature or spicy wise, you would dive in. Jake often joked that your aunties better watch out since their relative might just be a demon but they all knew you had a phobia of fire. Which is why it didn’t make sense for Luke to accuse you of setting fire to the old camp that required Cal Fire to come out and assist on. Sure you had motive, just as the rest of the three but you got snippy, ready to show your burn marks to the cops who interrogated you until the sheriff came back (to take over) from a quick ran he had to make.

It was obvious the old cops wanted to keep you here for the night and you might as well have, since you didn’t get released until one in the morning!

“You need to give your dad his mustache back. As for the new chop? Reminds me of how curly your hair used to be back in the day, now that? Was a look.” You informed, making Bode laugh lightly before biting into his bagel.

Eve whispers from beside you after obnoxiously slurping on her smoothie, “Careful now…”

Jake also chimes in after bumping the blond’s shoulder, “Bode can’t help it if the curls always got the girls.”

Playfully gagging, earned you some napkins being tossed your way by the man himself. You soon watch the expression on his face turn serious, which immediately, being that friend, makes you use your elbow as leverage to twist your body against the booth to see what changed this demeanor of Bode’s.

“Can you not be so obvious?” Bode gruffs, which makes Eve almost want to turn too but she figures it out once Jake mouths what she was thinking.

The table goes quiet as the dark haired woman heads to the counter, saying that she’s picking up an order. With one hand on her phone, she slowly turns towards the table you’re all seated at and waves with a smile.

“Hey, Gabi.” Jake calls over his shoulder.

Eve also smiles back at her, “Morning, Gabs!”

Her eyes flick to Bode and then you, but turns her attention back to the guy behind the counter who hands her a bag. She makes her way by the table but not without throwing in a, “Bode, hi.”

“Um, hey, hi.” Bode stumbles which makes you raise a brow.

Reaching over Eve you hold out your hand to introduce yourself, “So you’re thee Gabi I’ve seen and heard little about. I’m…old friend of these three rascals.”

Gabby places her hand in yours to lightly shake, “Uh…yeah, I’m familiar with some of your work. How did you hear about me, exactly?”

“Jake’s Instagram!” You admit, “Just to learn you two are not together anymore.”

Gabriela awkwardly glanced at Jake who shakes his head at you in annoyance, “Don’t mind them, they just say whatever comes to mind.”

“Y’all are acting like I said something horrible.” You place your hands on your chest with wide eyes, “Is it not a fact?”

“It is,” Eve verified, “Just not the first thing you need to bombard her with, given that you’re just meeting, so early in the morning.”

Gabi stretches a smile over her lips, “It’s not a big deal. Things just didn’t work out, as some relationships don’t, right?”

You hum and sip at your tea.

“Well…It was nice meeting you.” Gabi bids her farewell, “I’ll see you guys later.” She sends another glance at Bode who presses his lips together at her before leaving.

Meeting everyone’s eyes again you demand, “Okay…out with it. What was that?”

“What was what?” Bode lifts his shoulders, ready to bite back into the half of his bagel but you slap it back down onto his plate.

Mocking him with a lift of your shoulders you say, “That whole lingering look between you two. What’s the story?”

Jake rolls his neck around, while Eve points between the two.

“So are you two going to tell them, or shall I be the one to do it?”

“It doesn’t even really matter.” Jake exasperates, while Bode appears to be more interested in his breakfast than meeting your eyes.

Your brows raise, “I call bullshit. I’ve known all of you since forever and may have been living a different life in Chicago and wherever else I’m expected to be but please don’t think I’m dumb.”

Jake meets Bode’s eyes while Eve decides to tell you. You were all friends and it didn’t need to be a secret.

“Jake and Gabi used to be in a relationship as you know, and we’re actually engaged. Then that was broken up by Bode and Gabi becoming an unofficial thing—mind you this was all happening while Bode was serving his time in three rock. THEN Bode pushed her away and Gabi got involved with a paramedic dude named Diego, which led to them getting engaged pretty fast. That wedding didn’t happen either because Bode and Gabi keep going back and forth with their feelings for each other. Oh! And also Jake and Cara, you remember Cara Maisonette? Were in a relationship for a while and due to her untimely passing, rest in peace! Jake is now raising her daughter, Gen, Genevieve who was potentially Bode’s but she actually might be Rick Stengler’s.” Eve gave you the run down, while you pointed mentally connecting the dots as she talked as if you were Adele in that one livestream.

Sitting back against the booth you blink back and forth between the two men, “…what kind of soap opera shit is this?”

Jake points his fork at the short haired woman on your right, “Notice how Eve didn’t air out any of her business?”

“That’s because I’m clean from the drama baby!” Eve whoops with her fist raised up in the air.

Sipping at your herbal tea once more you say, to the two across from you, “The tabloids would have a field day with you two.”

“Thank god we didn’t go Hollywood, we’ll leave that all to you, superstar.” Jake lifts his own mug up at you, as he uses your nickname.

Bode clears his throat, deciding to ask, “Enough about our crap, what’s up with you in that department? Are you and the foot? Doctor guy still a thing?”

“He wasn’t a foot doctor.” Eve scrunches up her nose.

Bode is confused, “I could have sworn—

“Uh, He’s a pharmacist?” Jake affirms so matter of factly, “And it’s John, right?”

Laughing at your friends you say, “you’re all wrong. The only thing Jake got right was his name. He’s a resident in Pediatric emergency medicine.”

“That’s a mouth full.” Eve comments as she pops some grapes into her mouth.

“Tell me about it.” You nudge Eve who raises her brows at you while you smirk.

“Ew, alright! It’s too early for that kind of talk, shut up.” Jake cringes while you just laugh.

Stretching your arms above your head you exhale, “That’s unfortunately over with after four years. He tried to say it was to focus more on his career but he and I both know he didn’t want that kind of spotlight put back on him.”

“That’s right, he was on that one show when he was a kid right?” Jake snaps his finger.

You nod.

Bode apprised, “That’s his loss, he had to have known what he was getting himself into.”

“Sure,” you shrug, “People change their minds all the time though, which is scary. We all know I’m also not the most easiest to deal with either so…I have no choice but to respect it.”

Eve nods, “yeah maybe…but if you love someone enough and the relationship is healthy then you put the work in to keep it going strong. That’s just how I see it.”

“I never liked him anyway, not that we’ve been around him much.” Jake adds with his mouth full, which makes you scoff with a roll of your eyes, “His face was too perfect and you can’t trust that.”

Oh brother!

Bode even pretends to think about it too.

“I’ve missed you guys,” you let out sigh resting your hand in the center of the table reaching out, which is shortly followed by Eve placing her hand right on top of yours.

“Are we really about to do a whole hand huddle right now?” Bode inquired after Jake stacks his right on top of Eve’s.

Jake scoffs, “Don’t act like you don’t miss this on the baseball field.”

“…Never really thought about it.”

“Really?” You quiz.

“Yeah, there’s always been too much going on to really think about what went on before.” Bode speaks, “…At least some things.”

Which definitely meant he was hinting at Riley.

You nod in understanding, “I get that.”

Bode searches your face in that moment before slowly placing his hand on top of Jake’s.

You let the ball drop, “Which is why…I’m going back to the camp tonight since it’s the anniversary today.”

“What?!” Eve peered at you sideways.

“I knew there was a catch,” Jake grumbled, taking his hand back, “Buttering us up just to throw something crazy on us.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’m not forcing any of you to come with me. It’s been eighteen years and i was drawn there for a reason—

“Yeah it’s call unresolved trauma.” Eve answers, “I think there’s been more than enough signs to stay away from that Goulcrest. I even bet that the sheriff told you to say away from there too.”

“…I cannot confirm or deny.” You rest your elbows against the table, sticking your nose up into the air.

Eve groans with her hands thrown back up in the air, pleading with her eyes as she looks at Jake and Bode to be the voice of reason.

“It’s mostly about paying my respects.” You try to justify.

Bode blinks as he leans a bit over the table, “You shouldn’t be out there alone, especially when that place is being investigated on arson and they thought you had something to do with it.”

“Mostly Luke, since he couldn’t blame it on my aunties…but give it time.” You continue, “Clearly I’m not afraid to be out there on my own and I’ll do it again.”

Jake hisses, “That’s your problem. You don’t know when to quit.”

“Hey, you’ve guys have been here for years and not once did any of you bring it up to me in our adulthood and that’s fine, we all deal with trauma differently. I got out as soon as I could, ran away from it but can any of us really sit here and say we got the closure from what happened?”

“…my closure is not ever mentioning it again.” Jake explains, now pushing his food around on his plate.

“Keep telling yourself that, you bury yourself into your work and are strictly by the book not being open to new ideas because of what exactly?” You round off, “Having control over things is better than not having control and where do you think that stems from, hm?”

Jake swallows the lump in his throat as he fires right back, “…how would you know? You haven’t been around.”

Chuckling to yourself humorlessly you respond, “I’ve heard more than enough just sitting here listening to you talk and it’s been over an hour. Whether you like it or not, I know my friends, no matter the distance.”

Eve comes in, “if you know us enough, then it should have been in your best interest to probably keep your little second venture to camp of horrors to yourself.”

Your tightened stare meets all three sets of eyes, “Wooooow, okay! And here I thought this was a safe space to not avoid shit because that’s what you’re all doing.”

“Did you or did you not just say that we all deal with trauma in different ways?” Eve tilts her head to the side.

“I did. But I also dont need for you all to look at me as if I’ve grown three heads for wanting to honor the victims…which most of us were too, if you forgot.”

Eve sucks in her cheeks at this, feeling as if that was a jab. She had been sent off to a hospital after breaking her collarbone during one of the activities. Just to come back to multiple bloody scenes that didn’t go away even when she closed her eyes.

“How could we?! We were kids. I’ve never been so depressed before in my life. You and Bode thought I was dead, I did almost die. I don’t think it’s a crime to try and move on and that’s no disrespect to those we lost.” Jake speaks, “I tried to play it off once recognizing the address before it was announced that it was camp Goulcrest because we had a job to do. All I wanted to do was turn that damn truck around and let it burn. Once I finally snapped out of it, I knew I had to live my life and that’s what we should all be doing. Not living in the fucked up past.”

The table goes quiet.

“The thing is…the limelight isn’t bright enough for me to live the life I need.” You say with a shaky breath, “So I’ll be at the camp tonight, no matter what anyone says or thinks.”

Bode’s seen that look in your eye plenty of times before so he knew you meant it, as you collected your things and excused yourself from the deli.

𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

Letting out a slow exhale, you stood inside what was once known as the rec hall. It didn’t experience as much damage as the cabins which completely burned down but the soot covered a good portion of it along with a hole in the wall that brought in the air that was ready for a season change. It smelled like smoke opposed to its old sap and dirt feel it used to have back then.

The ceramic wind chimes that you managed to loop around one of the lower beams, had you hugging yourself as you stared up at them afterwards. Your eyes felt like they wanted to burn remembering all the lives that were lost and you fought the urge to scratch at the burn that took up a good chunk of the side of your thigh. The more you stood in the rec hall, eyes scanning the end of the stairs, where your mind sizzled with the thought of the killer causing you harm in his off-putting mask.

A hand goes to your shoulder, a reflex was instant as you twisted the palm and pressed on their thumb, ready to break it.

“It’s just us!” Jake’s voice calls out, wincing and you immediately let go of him, “I called out to you a good five times but you seemed to be zoned out. Damn.”

“You don’t sneak up on people!”

“I wasn’t sneaking,” Jake shook of his hand, “How else did you want us to get your attention?”

“By not touching me?”

“Okay, relax you two.” Eve commands as she peers up and around the ceiling of this place, “we’re all okay.”

Which sounds like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“…are we?” Bode asks, his voice projecting a good distance from you three.

That’s when all of you set your eyes on the blond, who’s standing by the fireplace that’s tucked into the back of the spacious hall.

You’re the first that moves over to Bode, seeing that he’s holding something between his two fingers. His eyes scan over your face once more, as you latch onto his wrist holding his arm in place as you peer at the card he’s holding.

The card read: THE FOOL which was a distant memory of the joker card that was always left at the scene of The Goulcrest killer’s crime.

“W-what is that?” Jake rasped, although you can sense that he already knew.

Eve whispered, “…is that blood?”

Bode calls out your name after you step back from him, moving around the hall in search of what could be another dead body.

“What is happening right now?” Eve is frantic as she watches you, seeing you stop in your tracks, hand going to pinch at your hairline in thought.

The chimes start to whip from the beams in a manner that is less than gentle. You’re overwhelmed, knowing that there had to be somebody here because who randomly leaves behind a card like that, which is highly connected to what happened years ago?

The Goulcrest killer tried to set you on fire as if the brutal attack before that wasn’t enough. You were his last target and the first to see the camp begin to burn in present day, there had to be a connection there.

It felt like being in a trance the longer you stared at the chimes that were supposed to honor the old camp members, although it was better to define it as trigger like because the harder they whipped against the wind, the more they started to sound like the bells that dangled from the killer’s mask.

Jake and Eve were already back by the door, ready to high tail it out of there once they got a good enough look at the bloody card Bode found. It was Bode who had to remind you that you weren’t alone, just like you had to do at fourteen watching him get tortured.

Telling him that you were there and wouldn’t leave him as you lay by the stairs with only a shattered ankle at the time.

“Hey,” his voice broke through the jingling of bells that did their best to occupy your mind.

Those same bells that commonly affected your sleeping patterns so much that no pill or drug could conquer it.

“It’s you and I, remember?” Bode said, now cradling your face, “And we can leave this time, okay?”

He’s patient but firm, letting you known that now you had the choice to get away from the dark. Bode didn’t think it was the best idea being here but he also didn’t think you should be here alone and he was right—which it wasn’t about—but there was now this high risk of there being a copy cat killer.

Something all of you didn’t deserve to see a repeat of.

So you allowed him to tuck you underneath his arm, leading you out of the old rec hall to where Jake and Eve stood by the doors of Eve’s car. Once they saw the two of you made it out, they did not hesitate to hop right into the car, which was already started.

“I’ll drive.” Bode tells you, awaiting for your keys, which you surprisingly didn’t fight him on as you slapped it into his palm.

Bode watches you as you get to the passenger side of your car and he glanced over at Jake who had his window down as Eve slowly starts to pull off, “I’ve called it into the county here but you know with a smaller town like this, they probably won’t jump right on it.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Hey,” Jake calls out to Bode, who glanced at the brown skinned man over his shoulder, “…you didn’t take the card, did you?”

The look in Bode’s eye was enough of an answer to Jake, as he’s rolling his window back up.

𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

“You should tell your aunties you’re here.” Bode suggestions in one of the motel rooms you chose to stay in.

He’s been watching you pace the floor for awhile and even muted the reruns of Family feud, finding your shuffling to be more soothing than the slightly irritating sound of the trumpet instrumental that played on that fan favorite show.

Bode’s seen your episode before in prison about three years ago with your now ex-boyfriend, John right at your side. It was weird seeing someone you grew up with be surrounded by people you didn’t think they would mesh with.

You never really had the time to just be.

After what happened at camp and being seen by numerous of doctors and counselors, it seemed as if everything was expected to go back to normal. At least that’s what Bode tried to do when it came to his healing process, dived into baseball to get rid of what still lingered, got into relationships, got into drugs, the distance between you grew as you went out to Los Angeles full-time to pursue acting, lost his sister, dealt with his father hating him, robbed a store, and you all know the rest.

It was all anything but fucking normal so in a sense, Bode understood that it was more than just paying your respects on the anniversary, it was about seeing the darkness little by little, and finding your way out for good this time.

“So they can try to locate this new copy cat killer for us and attempt to vanquish them?”

None of you saw a body or stayed around long enough to find out but it was something that was mutually felt.

A smile appears on the corner of Bode’s lips as he sat in a nearby chair with his elbows digging into his knees, “…if you think that would help?”

“No, Bode! I don’t.” You finally plop down on the edge of the bed, being aware that he was just trying to lighten the mood.

It was no secret back in Edgewater that people thought your mom and aunties were witches. Your mother was always chasing after normal whereas your aunties had no problem living in their truth.

Soon Bode’s sitting beside you, elbows digging into his knees. “…if you need me, I’m here.”

“I won’t leave you either, Bo.” You flop back against the bed, “Definitely not now.”

Bode also moves to lay back against the bed beside you, “…Did you have plans to go back?”

“To what?” You sigh, “Being under a microscope? Being tugged this way and that way like a robot…although this was what I wanted.”

Bode hums, “Originally you wanted to be on broadway, which is still huge and I won’t ever discredit that, yet you’ve been on the big screen and plenty of streaming services. If John walked away for good in terms of acting, why not take time to decide if this is still what you want?”

“…when did you get so wise, old friend of mine?” You raise your hand so that your knuckles can bump each other’s.

Bode snorts, “I’ve had time on my hands.”

“Literally.”

“Smart ass.” Bode laughs, slipping his fingers through yours.

Squeezing Bode’s hand against yours, you close your eyes. “Just you and I, Bode Leone.”

And you feel him shuffle closer with his head resting against yours.

𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺 𐬺𖦹꧁🃏꧂𖦹𐬺

October 2024 Masterlist here.

[aylaaescar]

Have mercy, baby, on a poor girl like me You know I'm falling, falling, falling at your feet I'm tingling right from my head to my toes So help me, help me, help me make the feeling go

Shery Acquell ( @shepherds-of-haven ) and my own OC, Brygita "Bridge" Sinuraya, as drawn by @serahlink! 💕sometimes you see a woman so sweet and kind you think "oh wow, I need an OC for her stat." I feel this way with a lot of SHOH's ladies, funny enough.

please, consider commissioning Link if you're looking for someone to create some beautiful art! the results speak for themselves, I think - add to him being wonderful to work with, I can't recommend him enough!

[yuuugay]

I will be sharing this through Ner's perspective

Form Your Shepherds of Haven Adventuring Party!

Since we've been talking about this a bit the last few days, I figured I'd see what people's opinions of what the ideal party composition for the ShoH characters would be! You can only have four companions in your party... How will you rank them all?!

Go here, drag and drop the characters according to how you rank them, then save your tier list at the bottom and reblog this post with a picture of your results! You can even customize the text in each category to make it whatever you want! :)

[bigmeandragonlady]

Finally finished the dossier template, few other things of note:

Pretty handy with a knife as well as the bow.

Can process seafood really quickly

Prefers to be at a REASONABLE height with the sky above her

If you want to know her exact birthday, you'll have to figure it out on your own or hassle her enough

Scars: a small cut on her chin, stab scar on her stomach (she fell out of a tree and impaled herself, okay), inside of her bicep, across the outside of her right wrist to her thumb, palm side of her left thumb

Tattoos: Ket tattoo on the inside of the wrist, floral sleeve on her left arm, anchor + rope + birds on one of her ankles

I kept rambling and found it hard to summarize the relationships so I've expanded under the cut. There are def rumors that she's dating or sleeping with at least half of them

Blade: they get along weirdly well. Recruits in particular are always surprised to find them casually walking together- they find her softer demeanor an odd juxtaposition to how Blade... is. Also! He is fun to tease. thinks how much she'd like to hear him whimper. It's a miracle they don't butt heads more often, considering her beef with authority. He hates when she gets together with Trouble and Chase b/c she joins them in being a group menace.

Romance: I could see it but Blade would have to make the first move and bridge that gap, as she's convinced herself she's not meant for a relationship. One of the biggest issues i would see them having is Blade's protectiveness would make her feel like she was being smothered and coddled at times.

Trouble: They get on like a house on fire. Her first friend in the order and i'm still deciding if they get arrested together or she pulls Trouble away. Very casual with physical affection and he's a personal space heater. Not a lot to say here b/c it's pretty straight forward!

Romance: Absolutely could see it happening but this would involve a third party kicking Trouble in the ass b/c he's dense as a brick. But it could very well fall apart b/c of her whole romantic relationship = bad, thing. She would realize 'i have feelings for him, but he doesn't have any idea yet' and probably distance herself which would cause confusion and hurt for Trouble, he might confide in someone and they just "she has feelings for you, dipshit"

Tallys: A little more complicated- Aelyn bounces and feeds off other ppl's personalities to interact so the cool, calm, detached thing is kind of weird sometimes b/c she's.... not that. It gets better as she eases out of survival mode. Tallys has given her a lot of tips when it comes to archery (flirting, unnecessary touching, ect included), they go on nature walks, and they do talk often.

Romance: Maybe. While they work as friends with benefits... idk if it would go beyond that. Speaking of: Tallys is absolutely the one to break that arrangement off b/c she's the first one to clock Aelyn being in deep for Chase (or just... between tallys and chase, idk how she has any energy). this is how i see it happening anyway, since aelyn is in denial and idk how willing tallys would be to be in the middle of... that. Of course, how these two fwb route interact can absolutely change things

Shery: She loves Shery. Like if she was more comfortable with casual affection Aelyn would give a hug and kiss on the head when they met up. Borderline cute aggression (I could see Aelyn getting drunk, holding onto Shery, saying "you're so adorable, what the fuck"). Shery does a good job of making her feel cared about w/o being coddled. Has loved helping her be a little more assertive

Romance: I think Shery would be too timid to kick things off and that's what Aelyn needs. I would see this being Shery falling and not saying anything.... forever. There's also the "and they were both bottoms" lol.

Riel: They get along but I wouldn't call them good friends? They respect each other but if they had no work related reason to see each other, both would be okay with that. Even if he was romanceable for a fem MC, it would not happen. Man won't even share his food.

Chase: This is hard b/c my brain kind of turns to static when I think about them. But they got on very quickly. Not as quickly as say, Trouble, but when she said 'We're square' she genuinely meant it. she got points right off the bat for tracking him down and busting into the guild solo and not really giving a shit that they're the thieves guild. He gets points for being so easy to get a long with and leading a life that would make him a huge hypocrite for judging her past choices.

Romance: He's her main romance so- It's such a fucking mess and i love mess. Fuck buddies who have caught feelings and are stupid about it b/c they don't want them. They've managed to worm past each others walls on accident and it's going to get worse before it gets better. At this point in the game, the thought of losing him or even turning down the dial on whatever they have going on is devastating, which scares her. Honestly, just how relationship avoidant I make her ultimately depends on how the torpedo + subsequent reconciliation happens.

Red: He caught her scoping the library and offered her a tour, gaining immediate friendship points. She's envious of his education but he's so open with his knowledge and resources she can't resent him. they talk about nerdy magic shit all the time and Blade is 🙄 when they start bouncing off each other.

Romance: Such a close runner up to Chase it's almost tragic. The biggest tipping point is that she met chase first. I think he would be patient enough to get past her walls and mature enough to just fucking... talk to her. There's obviously chemistry and something there that would make him pursue her. this would be overall healthier and wouldn't explode (as badly). she'd be terrified of meeting his family though.

Ayla: They're pretty protective of each other pretty quickly, they see the similarities they have and they get a long well. Aelyn makes an active effort to remind Ayla she has a place here and people she can trust. Teases her until she gets punched in the ribs.

Romance: No matter what I do I can't see them in a relationship. :| She's the only one out of the romacables (for fem MC) that I'm like hmmm no.

Halek: They get along very well and he seems to take her flirting in stride. I can see them cooking together (assuming Halek isn't one of those 'get out of my kitchen' people)- cooking and eating together is a significant bonding activity for her. She feels like Halek is a big judgment free zone so that's big friendship points for her.

Romance: Yes, if only to make a lifelong enemy of Moonsilk. I think they're compatible but I also don't know if I know his character well enough to say definitely. If he ever wants to 'hang out' she's down to clown.

Briony: Once she realized Briony was genuinely on the same side as her in the arena they were buds. She fascinated by Briony's sword and jokes that Red's blatant curiosity is rubbing off on her. Right there with Ayla with 'hey you want us to 'talk' to them 🤜' they like to walk around, arms linked, and GOSSIP

Romance: I- maybe? I could see it. Possibly. Though, apparently she and Lavinet's type is similar sooo maybe not. I don't think it would be.... great. My biggest fear is that Aelyn would actively sabotage this relationship and create a lasting wound for Briony (although tbh this is a fear for pretty much all the ROs)

Lavinet: They hold each other in high regard and their relationship is warmer then Aelyn and Riel's but but there's still a distance there. Lavinet operates very differently then she does and it throws Aelyn off. I'm not sure how true it is but Aelyn is pretty sure Lavinet would judge the shit out of her for some of the things she's done in the past. They bond over riding and girls nights though. Like Riel: even if romancable, it wouldn't happen.

Mimir: It's complicated. On one hand she does like Mimir as Mimir, loves how weird she can be. On the other, the whole god(s) thing? don't like that. She's resentful and tries real hard not to direct it at Mimir

[yuechicake]

down by the shore.

summary: chase and qilan visit the ocean.

notes: 1.1k words, vague chase backstory allusions

In the mirror of the ocean, Qilan can see the sun’s buttery light diffusing on the water, the clouds smearing the sky reflected as aimless drifters on the waves. The water is calmer than she’s used to, a brilliant shade of blue that reminds her of one of Shery’s blueberry cakes, topped by frothy white icing. It’s all framed by broad swathes of warm sand, no sharp outcroppings or black rocks in sight.

Further down the beach, children tumble by the shallow shore and families carouse, lured by the gentle spring weather. Faint shrieks of joy and laughter carry on the salty breeze. It feels like a painting of another era, capturing a lifetime so distant from what Qilan has known.

Somewhere behind her, Chase walks slowly, pant legs rolled to his knees. His clothes are a complication of loose white fabric and tight brown laces, framing his body in a casually stylish way. He’s ready to catch attention or to hide himself amongst the crowd, whatever his next plan necessitates. 

Qilan has already stepped in the surf, water gently rolling across her ankles as she holds her skirts delicately away from the water. Somewhere, on that sandy expanse behind them, they’ve abandoned their shoes. Chase ambles up to her, dropping his chin onto her shoulder from behind.

Before them, the sea stretches like a silk shawl, boats beading its expanse. Chase asks, “How many deucalions would it take to know your thoughts?” 

“More than you could ever steal,” she says, before relenting, “The water is a lot warmer than I’m used to.”

“Really? I think it’s a bit chilly.” He drapes his arms around her waist, resting his weight on her.

“Around where I grew up,” she says, the words slipping out more easily than they ever have before, “It was always cold, even during the summer. My village was up on a cliff, and the waters crashed against the rocks. I could hear it at night.”

“Huh. I thought you said you played near the beaches.”

“I did. The waters were rough, but I learned to swim in them. All the Ket children did, and we would often race. If you go out far enough, you could fish where it was calmer. It would take twenty minutes just to traverse the paths down the cliffs, and the beaches were rocky.”

“No collecting shells?” Chase teases. “Or building sand castles? It sounds like you came out of the womb with a grimace and a dagger in your hand.”

“All Ket do,” she says, placing a hand over one of his own, tanned and warmed from the sunshine. “It’s why you can never win against me. I was running drills before I was born.”

Chase lets out a low whistle. “I never want to be on your bad side, Sunshine.”

“Then you should stop getting on it.”

“Ah, but it’s no fun otherwise,” he says. “You make it easy.”

“Just like you’re easily one of the most annoying people I’ve met,” Qilan returns.

“Don’t flatter me like that,” Chase says.

“What about you, then?”

“What about me?”

“You said you grew up by the ocean. Is this place familiar to you?”

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. Chase flips over his hand so he can lace their fingers together, thumb tracing nonsensical letters where it can reach. Whether it’s a nervous habit or a plea for reassurance, Qilan can’t tell. 

“No,” he says. “It’s not. I don’t know if there’s one stretch of water I can claim as my own. My father and I… we moved around too much for that. We must have sailed up and down the length of Blest. Sometimes, when you’ve seen all the different faces of something, the individual parts become unrecognizable to you.”

There’s a wistfulness in his voice, and it’s a familiar longing to Qilan. Somewhere, under the waves, they’ve left parts of themselves to the sea that will never return to them.

“It’s a home you can’t return to because it doesn’t exist,” she says calmly. “I understand.”

Chase squeezes her hand before letting go. “Guess we’re a little similar, Sunshine.”

The warmth against her back vanishes as Chase pulls away from her. In a fluid movement, Qilan turns, just in time to see him picking something off the ground and splashing back, flicking seawater onto her clothes. He beckons her closer, and cupped in his palms is a perfectly formed seashell, delicate, pink swirls speckled with flecks of white.

“A seashell?”

“Never too late to start collecting them,” he says, grinning. “But do me a favor. Hold it up to your ear.”

She obliges, scooping it from his hand to gingerly place it against her ear. In the hollows of the shell, waves roar and crash, a miniature ocean trapped within. 

“Nice, right? As a kid, I… used to look for buried treasure. Part of being a corsair, I guess. You start seeing it everywhere. But I would only find stuff like sea glass and sand dollars and shells. Back then, those felt as valuable as any piece of gold.”

“We could go treasure hunting,” she says. “And if we unearth buried gold, we keep it a secret.”

“Fifty-fifty split,” Chase agrees. “No one else knows.”

Qilan lowers the shell from her ear and slips it into her pocket, just as Chase unceremoniously scoops water into his palms and flings it at her, seawater dripping along her face and sliding down her hair, droplets soaking into the fabric of her clothes. 

“You can also do this along beaches,” he says, grinning. 

“Really, now?” Qilan says slowly, dropping her skirts into the water, where they float along the top of the waves. She methodically rolls one of the white sleeves of her blouse to her elbow. Chase’s grin falters, his perpetual sixth sense setting in, as he begins backing slowly away. 

“Sunshine?” he says.

“Hm?” Qilan says innocently, as she rolls her other sleeve up.

“Are you mad?”

“Now,” she says, tone still pleasant as she stalks towards Chase, “Why on earth would I be?”

“I just have the strangest feeling that you might be,” he says, still inching away with every step she takes towards him. “But that couldn’t be right, could it? We get along so well. We’re partners.”

“You should always listen to your instincts.” Qilan smiles. “Just so you know, I’ve never lost a race.”

She doesn’t even finish speaking before Chase bolts, and she breaks into a run after him. They splash through the shallow tides, wet sand sticking to their feet, water foaming around them. It’s childish, more childish than she has ever acted in years. And for a single, brief moment, she’s home again.