Imagine Logan not-so-discreetly touching your butt every chance he gets when you’re wearing a dress he likes on you.
**Based off of Die A Happy Man by Thomas Rhett**
You stifled a yelp as Logan’s hand once more came into contact with your rear, shooting him a shocked look, “Logan, stop!” you whispered, your cheeks flushing crimson.
He just chuckled, hooking his arm your waist and pulling you against his side, “I can’t help being an anima, baby. And I thought that red dress was enough to bring me to my knees, but that black one makes it hard to breathe.” he teased. “Besides, last night was hands down one of the best nights of my life.”
Your blush deepened and you ducked your head. “Keep your voice down. We’re in public.”
Logan grinned and hooked a finger under your chin. He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to your lips, surprisingly gentle. “I don’t care. I know that I can’t ever tell you enough that all I need in this life is your crazy love. If all I could ever do was hold your hand in mine, I could die a happy man.”
13 with Mcree please! Love your writing by the way, always a joy to see it on my feed. 💙
Ah you are all far too kind to me! I hope you continue to enjoy it and that this lives up to your expectations <3
13: “I could kiss you right now!”
You and McCree dove behind cover, heavy breathing the only sound echoing through your ears. The enemy was close, too close, and you both knew it. There were too many. You took a minute to steady yourself before risking a glance at your fighting partner beside you. He looked back at you and one glimpse of the panic in his eyes told you the severity of the situation.
“What do we do?” you practically mouthed at him and he closed his eyes with a grimace. You could tell he was feeling the pressure of keeping you safe as he had promised the others. You were somewhat of the ‘child’ of the base, the newbie that everyone looked out for and was protective towards. McCree had always been your partner on missions and you knew he always felt responsible for your wellbeing despite your constant protests.
“I don’t know,” he mouthed back and you could see his hands balled up into fists in his frustration, “All we can do is run and even then we may not make it.”
You carefully reached over and opened his closed fists, nodding at him gently, trying to convey the complete trust you had in him. He nodded back before taking a breath for confidence.
“Ok, here’s what we do,” he was whispering now but the volume was so low you were lip-reading anyway, “You’re going to run straight towards the nearest safe point in a few seconds, I’m going to cover you and you are not going to argue.”
You opened your mouth to scold him for trying to protect you once again but he put a finger to your lips and shot you an urgent look. You reluctantly shut your mouth but fervently shook your head.
“You know I’m not leaving without you,” you replied firmly and he scowled at you.
“Just do as you’re told for once, Y/N.” he bit back and you visibly reared back in shock. He never took that tone with you though he might with everyone else. Despite your overwhelming desire to stop him from doing this you just nodded, already slightly scared by the new stance he was taking.
“Ok,” he said and stared at you so hard you swore you would combust at any moment, “On three…1….2….3!”
You both shot up from your hiding position and faced the enemy and you swore under you breath as you quickly counted them. Way too many. It was a good job you didn’t intend to go anywhere. You both shot, still half covered, ducking and swapping positions as you fought.
“What the hell are you doing?” he roared at you over the sound of gunfire. You even managed a laugh as you both reverted back to your usual back-to-back stance as you continued to fight off the oncoming hoard.
“Why, saving your backside, of course!” You called out in a sing-song voice and you could have sworn you heard him growl. Slowly, you were miraculously winning this fight mainly due to both of your impressive combat skills. Soon you heard McCree’s famous line that signalled he was about to perform his Deadeye tactic. You ducked back behind the cover as he took out the remaining enemy troops before he slumped back behind the cover, satisfied the coast was clear. You sat side by side, panting as you struggled to recover from the battle.
McCree shot you a sideways glance and seemed to be struggling with an internal battle at the moment. You guessed it was probably something to do with whether he should praise your abilities or blow his fuse at your refusal to follow orders. What he eventually breathed out, however, was not something you would have predicted.
“I could kiss you right now.” he said seriously and again turned towards you. Your eyes widened in shock but only for a split second before a smug smirk plastered itself across your face.
“Then why don’t ya, cowboy?”
No sooner had you finished your sentence were his lips on yours, a hand weaving its way across your cheek and into your hair. After registering the initial surprise you felt yourself melting into him, hands suddenly on his chest as you gave in to your feelings.
He pulled away reluctantly, placing his forehead on yours and even leaning forward slightly to nuzzle your nose. You grinned.
“You know we still need to have a chat about your inability to listen to me?”
The grin dropped from your face and seemed to make its way onto Jesse’s face instead. You rolled your eyes fondly.
—- The rarest Eliminator was the Boss 302 variant, it included all the
perks of the regular Cougar Eliminator with the addition of the
high-performance 290 hp 302 cubic inch Boss V8 borrowed from the
Mustang.Engineers at Ford built the high performance 302 V8 by
combining the Ford Windsor 302 cubic inch motor and pairing it with
the Ford Cleveland (351 cubic inch) heads. Cleveland heads had larger
valves, larger ports, and the same basic bolt pattern as the Windsor –
although the passages for coolant did have to be modified slightly. In
road-going trim this new engine could produce 290 hp at 5200 rpm
with 290 lbf.ft of torque at 4300 rpm, however it could be revved right
the way through to 6250 rpm.Customers who ordered the Boss 302
package had no choice but to have it paired with a close ratio 4-speed
transmission and a 3.50 Positraction rear end. Power front disc brakes
also came as standard, as did staggered rear shocks, 31-spline axles and
nodular iron case, a rev limiter, and an 8000 RPM tachometer.The
car you see here is one of the 169 original cars from 1969, it was sold
new at Duick Lincoln Mercury in Bowling Green, Kentucky and it’s still
wearing its correct Competition Orange paintwork with the correct black
interior. It’ll be interesting to see where the bidding ends up when it
rolls across the block with Mecum on at the Indianapolis Auction in May,
if you’d like to read more about it or register to bid you can —-
Can you make a Aaron Hotchner imagine where the reader is dating Hotch, works on the team and she gets hurts on a mission because of an explosion and he gets really worried and it’s angsty please? Thank you☺️
I can do this! Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!
As Hotch sits at your bedside, his fingers intertwined with yours, your ventilator pumps air into your lungs as the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor gauges the very life that he felt was slipping through his fingers.
“Please, just hang on a bit longer…” Hotch whispers as he leans in and kisses your forehead.
You always had a weakness for little boys. Ever since you had lost your son, your way in life had been nothing but a foggy cloud of hazy thoughts and half-felt emotions. You meandered through life with half-hooded eyes and unheard thoughts as your heart continued to involuntarily pump a lifetime of motherhood instincts throughout the body of a woman who no longer woke up with a child.
And it was unbearable.
So when you had finally reached out and applied for a position with the BAU three years ago, it wasn’t a shock when you had become attached to Henry and little Jack.
The two of them made your heart soar.
As the doctor comes into your room, writing silent notes down on a chart as Hotch’s eyes raise to him, the doctor looks at the haggard man from above his black-rimmed glasses as he lightly shakes his head.
And all Aaron could do was cry.
“Y/N! No!” Hotch yells, his voice ricocheting through your ears as your hands are high in the air, slowly approaching the bus full of children as your heart hammers in your chest.
“Y/L/N, get back here now!” you hear your boss roar.
The love of your life roar…
Approaching the bus as you glance at the crying and scared faces of 23 little boys through the glass windows, you take a deep breath as you turn your attention towards the tall double-doors of the bus, the man with the bomb raising his hand high in the air.
“Back! Away!” he screams, tears pouring down his face.
It wasn’t his fault.
Well, it was.
But you understood how he felt.
The desperation in a parent’s life when they lose a child without anyone to blame but the cruelty of life is enough to rip the breath from your very lungs.
And not everyone emerges from the fog unadultered.
Bargaining with him as your hands tremble in the air, the team looks on helplessly as tears stream down Hotch’s face.
And as the unsub slowly opens the doors to the bus, you could feel the collective sigh of relief as you begin to usher the boys off, one by one, as they run and take cover with the people in the vests who were there to take them home.
That was…until you step on the bus.
“Hey, Hotch,” J.J. says, knocking lightly on the door.
Her voice ripped him away from his thoughts as his eyes meander over to her, a shadow of a bygone smile drifting lightly across his lips as she sets the bouquet of lilies and tulips at your bedside.
“Morgan uh…Morgan ca-…called me,” she stammers, tears threatening to spill over.
J.J. had become your best friend. The one woman you could talk to when things went terribly wrong. The one you called when nights were rough. The one who brought wine and fruit over when you couldn’t sleep.
The one you went to when you first realized you were in love with your boss.
Silently she makes her way to the foot of your bed, sitting in a seat as she leans her forehead over onto the mattress of your bed, her head in between your feet as she begins to sob.
They had to take you off.
They had to remove you from everything.
“What are you doing!?” Hotch roars as you step up and onto the bus, taking up a position beside the struggling man as you reach over and shut the doors behind you.
“It sucks, you know,” you say to him.
“What sucks?” he hisses, his hand trembling in mid-air.
“Waking up without a child.”
As the tears pour down you’re cheeks, the unsub’s face softens as a flicker of recognition graces his eyes.
“M-…my son…” he chokes out.
“I know,” you sniffle, gumdrop tears flowing down your neck as you slowly move your hand to his, your thumb situating on top of the red button as you take a step closer to him.
“Whatever decision you make, we make it together,” you murmur, your eyes locked with his as the unsub shakes his head, the tears pooling in his collarbone dips as you raise your free hand slowly and put it on his shoulder.
“It’s time,” the doctor says, the team gathering along the outer perimeter of the room as J.J. scoots her chair over to Hotch, his body trembling with pain as his sobs turn audible.
“Why…?” he begs, J.J. burying her tear-soaked face into the crook of his neck.
“No…” he whispers, snot pouring from his nose as he brings his arm around to wipe it away.
“Noooo!” he roars, standing up from his chair as J.J. rears back in shock, watching as her boss throws his arms around you, grasping your back as he hoists your body to him, your lifeless head lobbing forward onto his shoulder as your arms tumble backwards, his head pressed into your neck as his shoulders begin to shake.
“Y/N!! Please!! Wake up, please!!” he roars as he shakes you.
It was enough to break even the strongest team.
Morgan runs up behind him, furiously peeling him away from you as the doctor catches your body before it hits the bed, with Morgan dragging him out of the room as he yells and clamors to try and get back to your side.
“Y/N! I know you can hear me! Come back to us, please!” he shrieks, grasping onto the frame of the door as the team around him begins to aid Derek in getting him out of the room.
“Mrs. Jennifer…?” the doctor urges, turning to her as she brings her fingers to her eyes and wipes at the make-up running down her face.
“It’s time,” he says as the doctor wraps his hand around hers.
And as J.J. nods slowly, trying to drown out her boss’s angry pleas and fearful sobs, she reaches over your pale body and begins to flip the switches, one by one, as the heart monitor and ventilator begin to shut down.
“Jennifer! Stooooop!” Aaron roars as Rossi and Morgan push him around the corner.
Sobbing as her shoulders quake, Garcia comes shuffling into the room and leans into her back, wrapping her arms around her aching friend as the whir of the machines finally settle down, the silence in the room deafening as J.J. sniffles loudly.
And then…a gasp.
As the two of them whip their heads up, the doctor turning around from the doorway, his eyes widen as they all watch your chest continue to rise and fall, your fingers beginning to twitch as your head slowly begins to lob side to side.
And then…a whimper.
“Y-…Y/N?” Garcia stammers as J.J.’s eyes widen, her body turning as she pushes Penelope off of her and runs for the door.
“Hotch! HOOOOOOOTCH!” she roars as she rushes around the corner.
“Y/N!” Penelope yells as the doctor shoves her away, your eyes slowly peeling themselves open as he begins to run a series of tests, checking your pupil dilation and taking your pulse with his hand while a nurse pokes your lower leg with a needle, watching your legs jump in response.
“What?” Hotch breathes as she starts back down the hallway, his pace picking up to a full-blown run as he barrels back into the room, your eyes slowly rolling over to see his figure as his jaw drops.
“Oh, my god,” he breathes, rushing to your side as he pushes the doctor out of the way, the nurses rounding around to the other side as they slowly begin to work the breathing tube out of your lungs, your throat sputtering as you cover your face in spit.
“It’s ok, it’s alright. Oh god, Y/N, I’ve got you,” Hotch whispers, tears spilling onto your hand as he raises it to his cheek, his other hand coming around to wipe the spit off of your face.
“The boys-” you try to choke out before you begin coughing furiously.
“Ssshhh…sh sh sh…” Aaron coos, sniffling loudly as he kisses your hand and rubs his thumb along your pale cheek, “just rest.”
“Aaron…the boys…” you try to get out, your eyes watering as your breathing becomes laborious.
“The boys are fine. They’re…they’re all fine,” he chokes out, a smile etching across his face as he shakes his head.
“Ok,” you breathe as you nod your head, your vision lobbing over to the doctor as he continues to study the monitors.
And as he cuts his own sentiment off with a few tears of his own, he looks down at you as he pats your shoulder, a kind smile spreading across his face as he turns his attention back to the monitors.
Serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer playing with his father Lionel in a childhood home video. Despite rearing Jeffrey Lionel was shocked at the nature and extent of his son’s crimes when they finally came to light:
“We found out all of this at the trial in Milwaukee, the so-called trial to establish his insanity so he could get treated properly at a psychiatric institution. We found out that he had been collecting at the age of 12 to 14 – you know, when your hormones are ranging, puberty – he was collecting dead animals, road kill, riding around the rural roads and collecting them in bags. His mother didn’t know. I didn’t know. And apparently, none of his playmates knew.” - Lionel Dahmer
A surprise reveal from @yamahamotorusa: a flat track-inspired concept called the DT-07. It’s a one-off creation designed and built by @jeffpalhegyidesign in conjunction with Yamaha’s U.S. race shop, with a race-tuned FZ-07 power plant.
There’s also a purpose-built frame, a swingarm with an adjustable pivot and link system, modified R6 forks and an Ohlins rear shock.
Wouldn’t it be great if there was a street-legal version of this machine? #Yamaha #DT07 #FZ07 #FlatTrack #DirtTrack #Motorcycle #AIMExpo #60YearsOfYamaha
The winding tunnels beneath the royal palace were alarmingly DARK, only the lantern held high in Kenobi’s hand casting a dull, flickering circle of light around them. His footsteps muffled by compact earth, Obi-Wan cast Prince Skywalker a quick look from the corner of his eyes, barely concealing the trepidation creasing his brow. Each step forward took them closer to an almost certain DEATH, the long walk through the passageway akin to climbing the stairway of a gallows. Grievous may not expect the abrupt rear attack, but his shock would not last long – if they were overwhelmed, if they failed to pierce the heart of the ambush fast enough…
Sighing in resignation, Obi-Wan stopped. The lantern’s warmth barely dented the darkness around them, hungry shadows licking at the weak lamplight. Luke’s face seemed so young in the yellow glow, far too young to DIE now.
“ My Lord – please reconsider. If we continue past the next opening, we can make it to the forest before Grievous has time to realise you’re missing. ”
Summary~ After five whole years of waiting Zachary Howell-Lester is ready to go to Playlist Live. Unfortunately airports are trickier than they seem. Zach may be ready but Dan and Phil maybe not so much.
Beta’s Note~ Hey @phanweek a bit of a late entry for Day 1 SFW. I’m actually the beta posting for Jay (the author) who’s not close to a computer right now and we kind of forgot day 1 was right now, oops!
Author’s Note~ Hi everyone! Big thank you to @natskindacrisis for posting this for me! I’m a dork who forgets deadlines @_@
“Dad! Dad, wake up!!”
Phil groaned with exaggerated annoyance and cracked an eye open to mock glare at the boy bouncing on his hips. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to wake up a sleeping lion?” he growled playfully.
“But Daaaaaad, we’re going to America! You promised I could go this year,” Zach whined. “Besides, Daddy said I could.”
Ford Ranchero GT 1972 (5337) por Clay Via Flickr: Manufacturer: Ford Motor Company, Dearborn, Michigan - U.S.A.
Type: Ranchero Series GT Model 97R
Production time: September 1971 - September 1973
Production outlet: 27,940
Engine: 5766cc Ford Windsor 351W V-8
Power: 153 bhp / 3.800 rpm
Torque: 361 Nm / 2.000 rpm
Drivetrain: rear wheels
Speed: 163 km/h
Curb weight: 1840 kg
Load capacity: 618 kg
Wheelbase: 118 inch
Chassis: box frame with crossbars (new body-on-frame design) and self-supportin all steel body
Steering: recirculating ball and nut
Gearbox: three-speed manual / all synchromesh /
Clutch: 10 inch single dry plate
Carburettor: Motorcraft 2-barrel
Fuel tank: 76 liter
Electric system: 12 Volts 55 Ah
Ignition system: distributor and coil
Brakes front: dual hydraulic 10 inch self-adjusting drums
Brakes rear: dual hydraulic 10 inch self-adjusting drums
Suspension front: independent ball joint, upper trapezoidal triangle cross-bar, lower simple cross-bar with elastically mounted tension strut, sway bar, coil springs + hydraulic telescopic shock absorbers
Suspension rear: lower longitudinal links, upper braces, longitudinal leaf springs + hydraulic telescopic shock absorbers
Rear axle: live
Differential: hypoid 3.25:1
Wheels: 15 inch steel discs
Tires: H78 - 15
Options: 250 CID (4096cc) straight-6 engine (power 145/4.000rpm - torque 314Nm/1.600rpm), Ford FMX three-speed Select Shift automatic transmission, differential 2.75:1, front 10.7 inch disc brakes, power steering, air conditioning, bucket seats, AM/FM radio, vinyl top
- The Ranchero, introduced in December 1956, is quite unique Coupé utility vehicle: part car and part pickup truck.
- This principle was “copied” by Chevrolet with its El Camino in 1959.
- The Ford Ranchero was one of the favorite cars of Elvis Presley.
- The 1972 Ford Ranchero Series was available as this 2-door GT, as 2-door 500 Model 97D (49,065 units built) and as 2-door Squire Model 97K (9,070 units built).
- This sixth generation (1972–1976) Ranchero was only assembled in Lorain, Ohio (United States).
and skill was on display when a talented Swiss owner built a complete
motorcycle around a swap meet fuel tank. Included in the process was a
carefully engineered copy of the Egli backbone tube frame hooked to a
twin shock rear and the fork from a Honda 900 Bol d’ Or. Triumph triple
has been mildly tuned.
1942 Willys LS (No. 1) Drivetrain Engine: ’07 LY6, 6.0L Transmission: Built TH350 Transfer case: Dana 300 Front Axle: Wagoneer Dana 44 with ARB, 4.11 R&P, chromoly axleshafts Rear Axle: Wagoneer Dana 44 with Detroit, 4.11 R&P, chromoly axleshafts
Suspension Springs & Such: (Front) SOA using Wagoneer springs mounted backwards, Fox shocks; (Rear)4-link with 12-inch FOA coilovers Wheelbase (in): 89 Tires & Wheels: 15x10 Allied beadlocks, 36-inch Iroks Other Stuff: 1942 Willys MB Body, from a re-exported jeep from Europe to South America after the war, custom 2x4-inch frame
I’m in need of some assistance in replacing my broken car. The vehicle i am currently driving is dangerously unsafe and malfunctioning, and a car is an absolutely vital necessity for my life. Without a car, my commute to work becomes two and a half hours long by public transit, followed by a walk from the bus stop to the office that stretches over a mile long. I carpool with a coworker who does not have a car of her own, and she is five months pregnant; asking her to take this walk from the stop alone is unconscionable.
HOW I GOT HERE
In 2012 I had a wreck that totaled vehicle I was driving at that time. I managed to purchase a 2007 Ford Focus with the insurance check for a lump sum of $5000, but it’s been a headache ever since.
In April 2013 I had to replace a catalytic converter at the cost of $750, only to find out the the other catalytic converter (the one attached to the manifold) also needed be replaced, costing me another $1200. I had the rear shocks and spark plugs replaced and repairs made to my driver door (which would not open from the outside even when unlocked), the total cost of repairs completed in April came to $1950.
Later that summer, I took it in for an oil change and found out the front brake rotors were so worn down that they need to be replaced. The mechanic couldn’t even check the back breaks because the barrels were on so tight that they’d have to destroy them just to get them off - which would mean I’d also need new barrels. National Tire and Battery’s estimate for the total cost was $1275 for all repairs. I had everything except for the back brakes replaced, costing me a total of about $750, on top of the $1950 I’d already spent earlier last year.
Then in early 2014, I began to have steering issues. I had the rack and pinion replaced, a new steering column installed - basically the entire steering system was replaced. This didn’t seem to solve the problem, so my mechanic warranted the tools and had everything replaced again, and gave my car a realignment.
None of these repairs have solved the problem.
Every time I need to turn hard, back up, or reverse, my car makes noises like an angry Chewbacca. It is extremely difficult to turn. The air conditioning is out as a result of the compressor being broken since 2013. My usual mechanic is so vexed by my car, he is hesitant to touch it and recommends I try another shop.
Just this weekend (8/2/14) we took my car to the dealership. According to their assessment, the power steering is completely gone: the rack is coming apart internally; the pump is coming apart - there are metal pieces and bearings inside of it; and the passenger constant-velocity (CV) axle is coming apart. I would need an alignment and new steering fluid, all to the tune of $2712 before tax.
The service mechanic told me flatly that he didn’t believe the repairs to be worth the cost. he did say they would take it as a trade in, but I don’t have any money and my credit is shot due to long term unemployment. I was able to get job that started just this past monday (July 28, 2014), but without a car I will need to travel two and a half hours and then walk over a mile to reach the office.
Taking this job was a pay cut, but better than unemployment. It will allow me to get ahead on my bills, but not allow me enough to save. I was already contemplating a second job before this - now I will absolutely need one.
I need help to purchase a functioning car. I’m not looking for anything extravagant, but something reliable with reasonable mileage. Unfortunately this is not an expense that I can handle on my own, and my coworker and I need a new car to ride to work as quickly as possible.
HOW YOU CAN HELP
To date I have spent $2700 on repairs to the Focus, with another $2712 required to get it back in safe working order. That’s a total of $5412 in repairs in a year and half!! Since the original cost of the car was nearly $500 less than this total for repairs, I’ve decided that a trade in would be the most prudent choice at this point. The purchase price of a new-to-me used car is still not something that I can afford outright, so this is where your help comes in.
If you have some cash you can spare, I truly appreciate any help towards this goal.