#Team Shoplifters

[lunastars21]

If we fought…I’m sure I’d lose!”

My arcane odyssey/ Adventures sonic AU protags together!

Fang has a long way to go to reach their level

Bonus sketch :]

[askteamhooligans]

Fang, hadn't you poisoned your companions in prison?

"i didn't have any companions till Bean and Bark, or been in prison in sometime with cellmates..so maybe you just either had a similar dream...orrrr this is some other multiverse mumbo jumbo bean keeps talking about.

nonetheless...I'll certainly keep that idea in mind in case i get tossed into the slammer again, Thanks for the info..heh"

[anim-ttrpgs]

"Kleptomaniac," investigator Trait from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. Every investigator has 3 to 6 Traits!

[luveline]

my lovely jade would you consider writing more about new to the team reader and fresh out of prison spencer?😇🩷i'd really love anything, they make me kick my feet and blush so bad!🥰 love you <3

love you gorgeous <3

“Here.” Spencer puts a granola bar on top of your notebook. 

It slides down the slopes of the page into the centre and disrupts your train of thought. Your stomach stirs, remembered, and your fingertips shake ever so slightly as they curl around his gift. “Thank you,” you say, the grit of the packaging like a pinprick. “Sorry, I was somewhere else.” 

“If you don't eat, you'll get foggy, and then you'll be unhappy,” he says, sitting in the chair between yours and Emily's. 

“And you need a clear mind to work,” Emily says. 

She's Unit Chief, as formidable as her predecessors, but it's her demeanour that intimidates you. She's confident in how much she cares about people and she won't let you forget what this is all for, nor the strength of it. You find yourself nodding like an obedient puppy whenever she talks —whenever any of them talk. 

Spencer watches your expression. You aren't sure why. “And less coffee.”

“That's a little hypocritical,” Emily says, her voice stretching with humour, “but I'll allow it.” 

“That's why her hands are shaking.” He nods to the granola bar, and when you struggle to open it, he reaches for it with a gentle touch. “Do you think you might have a low tolerance for caffeine?” 

The shaking worsens at the question, though it's innocent enough. You don't want to explain why you're shaking because you know it paints a poor picture of professionalism, but you can't lie to them. It almost feels like the idea of shoplifting, the fear of being caught. You desperately want them to like you, trust you, and respect you, and lying this early on won't help that. 

“I need to do better,” you say. 

“You're doing amazing,” Spencer says, as Emily asks, “Why do you say that?” 

“I'm having trouble, uh, sleeping. And remembering to eat enough. That's why I'm shaking so badly. It'll go away soon, I promise.” 

“Are you drinking any water?” Emily stands. “You have to stay on top of this stuff.” 

She stalks off looking pissed. You wince, and Spencer puts the now opened granola bar in your hand, curling your fingers around it nicely. “Here, take your time.” 

You are shamefully desperate for reassurance. “Is she angry?”

“Yeah, she's mad.” Spencer doesn't smile. His voice doesn't betray much else. “She wasn't always good at taking care of herself, either, but now she doesn't have a choice. She has to be the best, and she has to make you the best you can be. Which is why she's angry.” 

“That I'm not currently at my best,” you surmise. 

“That she didn't notice.” He takes a pen from his pocket and a post it note from the table. “But Emily doesn't need to worry, because I'm here, and I would've looked after you anyways, even if she wasn't Unit Chief.” 

You take a bite of granola bar to pretend he hasn't winded you. I would've looked after you anyways. He writes a quick list as you chew, unaware of his affect on you or choosing to ignore it. 

He hands you the note. 

2 meals

4 glasses of water 

4 cups of coffee

702-555-0103

“I already have your phone number,” you say, hot in the face. 

“And you could stand to use it more often.” He takes your shoulder into his hand and leans in, giving you a nice squeeze, his thumb rubbing a line into your blouse. “Yeah? I know this is all harder than it looks. I promise I get it.” His voice creeps down into a more playful teasing, “Why are you so reluctant to call me? You're breaking my heart.” 

You laugh breathlessly. He pats your shoulder. “Finish that, okay? I'll go find us something more substantial for lunch.” 

Obviously you want him to take care of you, whatever that means, but it's still startling. He's smart, and so, so pretty, and he has this obsession with teasing you… if he even knows he's doing it. 

“Oh, Y/N?” he asks from the door. You look up, eyes wide, a deer in his headlights. “You really are doing amazing.” 

“Thank you.” 

Emily comes in a few seconds after he leaves, the biggest bottle of water you've ever seen in her hand, her eyebrows raised sceptically. “What's he smiling about?” 

You clear your throat. “I’m not sure.” 

[yamujiburo]

What would Delia consider a relapse? Like if Jessie did a shoplifting just out of habit, like she legitimately didn't even Think About It, she was just on autopilot, would she still trust her?

Oh definitely more so like stealing Pokémon, joining an evil team again etc.

She'd just give Jessie a stern talking to when it comes to minor, petty crimes but they're not a dealbreaker

[thunderon]

dream team to survive the horrors when you’re stranded in the wilderness:

- a prophet who loves shoplifting

- an italian-american with a gun

- a girl who has two first aid classes and a love for malpractice

- The (self-proclaimed) Only Sane One Around Here

- The Sane One’s Shadow Self

- a butch

- a butcher

- a girl who will stir the pot literally and figuratively

- just some guy who is now considered One of the Girls

[ckret2]

Chapter 27 of human Bill Cipher trying to trick his captors into liking him, featuring a mall shopping trip that turns into this:

Also, Bill faces the most difficult ethical dilemma of his life: should he act like a big jerk to a 13-year-old.

####

As they left the cheap jewelry kiosk, Bill tapped his new dress shoe against Stan's ankle to catch his attention. "Hey. Your cut." He flipped a ring in the air.

Stan caught it and inspected the symbol on its surface. "Is that the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel?"

"You gave your protégé your fez, I thought you might want a replacement! I know how proud you are of your lodge membership, Fisherman."

Stan admiringly studied the ring and its open-mouthed crescent fish; then the corners of his mouth turned down. "Ahhh, it wasn't my membership." He stuffed the ring in his pocket.

"No? I got one with the Fishmasons symbol if you'd like that better." Bill spun the oversized ring on one finger. It slipped off and he fumbled trying to catch it.

In the smoothest move he'd pulled all summer, Dipper caught the ring before it hit the floor. He ignored Bill's outstretched hand and inspected the complicated tool-lined diamond symbol. "Fishmasons? I thought they were called..."

"Yeah, you would," Bill scoffed. "Do you believe everything you read in The Paranoia Code? You know novels are usually fictional, right?"

"But don't masons work with stone? How does a 'fish mason' make sense?"

"If everyone knew what it meant, it wouldn't be a secret society, would it?"

Dipper gave up on prying anything more than snark out of Bill and turned toward Stan. "The Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel is associated with the Fishmasons, right?"

"Yeah," Stan said, "they're uh, sister organizations or something, I think. It's complicated."

"It's a spin-off organization," Bill said. "All Mackerels are Fishers. Once you've reached the top rank in the Fishers, you're eligible to join the Holy Mackerel."

"Yeah. What he said."

Dipper nodded. "Sooo... is it true that the Fishmasons are secretly... working with the government, or...? I mean, yeah, I read it in a book. But they've had a lot of real historical figures."

Stan snorted dismissively. "If they are, they didn't invite me to those meetings."

"Well sure. The lodge that decides politics is in D.C.," Bill lied. Dipper's head whipped around to stare at him. Ha. When they got home, Bill would have to spend some time deciding which would be the stupidest conspiracy theory rabbit holes to send Dipper down. If he played his cards right, by Thanksgiving he could have the kid spouting rubbish that would alienate half his extended family.

"Would you stop staring at me like that?" He shoved the side of Dipper's face; and, while he was distracted, grabbed back the Fisher ring to inspect its symbol. Kryptos's face. Far better drawn than Bill could do. And the thin little layer of gold atop the ring should be enough to enhance Bill's psychic signal. Maybe that would be enough to get a call through to the Nightmare Realm.

He tucked the ring in his shoe and turned to Stan. "Anyway, if you think that was good, you should see what I can do in a real jewelry store. What do you say?"

"I dunno. Jewelry shops are tricky, they're always on the lookout for shoplifters."

"They never catch teams and we've got two rambunctious kids to split their attention. I'll do the distracting, you do the lifting. When's the last time you had a gold watch that isn't cursed?"

"Nope!" Mabel, who'd been trailing behind the group with her arms crossed, finally shoved her way between Stan and Bill. "That's enough! We came here for a good time, not a crime time!"

"We came here to go shopping," Stan protested. "We're shopping!"

"Yeah, we're just getting the best discount possible."

"It's like advanced couponing."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"No!" Mabel stood in front of them, arms and feet spread wide like a barrier. "Grunkle Stan, you should know better. You're letting—" she dropped her voice to an emphatic whisper, "Bill talk you into doing bad stuff. The whole reason you came along was to make sure he can't do that!"

Stan snapped, "Oh, like you didn't just make us stand around for an hour while you played dress up with him! Why's it okay when you play with the demon, but nobody else can make him useful?"

Mabel winced. "No, that's not... I mean..."

If this conversation went the wrong way, Stan and Mabel might both talk each other out of doing anything interesting with Bill. He'd better defuse this situation quick. "Hey, c'mon, Stanley, that's your niece. Don't be so hard on her."

There was a flicker of irritation on Stan's face directed at Bill, followed by a flicker of guilt toward Mabel, followed by him grunting and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

That was one threat neutralized. Bill turned his grin on Mabel. "Sorry for monopolizing the trip, kid. We'll make it up to you! Fordsy got you that cute crystal bracelet, didn't he—wanna graduate to some real gemstones?"

"Hey, yeah," Stan said, immediately perking up. "You like jewelry! I can get you something with hearts or kittens. Way better than a bunch of boring rocks." Bill mentally patted himself on the back. Oh, he was so good at this. Good old sibling rivalry. Families were so easy to manipulate.

Mabel slapped her hand over the rainbow crystal bracelet mixed amidst her other bracelets. "I don't want you to get me real jewelry!" she shouted; but Stan had already set out on his new mission, with Bill trotting along just behind him. "Not if you have to steal it!"

"Relax!" Bill waved without turning around. "We're a couple of pros, you've got nothing to worry about." He elbowed Stan before he could absorb Mabel's protests. "Don't worry, once she's older she'll appreciate what a financial investment fine jewelry is. Never too early to buy a little gold. Or—well—acquire gold."

"Yeah," Stan said, "who knows when the next apocalypse is gonna be."

"Could be any day now," Bill lied.

"The only bracelet I want is this one!" Mabel waved her arm in the air, pointing at the shooting star friendship bracelet Bill had made. But Stan and Bill were too far away to care about her protests now.

Mabel's shoulders slumped. She glowered at the friendship bracelet. It didn't seem as friendly as it did when Bill gave it to her. "This whole trip was a mistake, wasn't it."

Dipper grimaced. "I didn't say it."

"You don't have to." Mabel sighed heavily. "I don't know what got into me. B—Goldie's been so nice lately, I thought he was making progress! But he's been nothing but a creep today. Guess the niceness was all an act."

"He can act nice for a long time. It took Grunkle Ford almost three years to figure out how evil he is." When Dipper concluded that this hadn't had the comforting effect he'd intended, he asked, "Do you wanna tip off security about the jewelry heist?"

Mabel sighed again. "No, I don't want Grunkle Stan to get in trouble. And if Goldie's arrested he might spill the beans to mall security. Let's just wait outside by the car."

"Yeah, all right," Dipper said. "If they don't come out in twenty minutes, we'll call Ford."

Headed the other way across the mall, Bill said, "So, a watch for you, a necklace or something for the kid, and for me... they probably don't have crowns here, so—"

"Whoa, hey, I don't remember offering to get you anything," Stan said. "I already got you fancy shoes and a bunch of clothes. We're square."

"We're no such thing. Besides, why should I help you if I'm not getting anything?" Bill asked. "Maybe earrings? Gimme a nail when we get home and I can pierce my own ears—"

His arm was wrenched backwards and he fell on his back.

Thirty feet away, Mabel yelped as she was yanked back and landed on her butt.

Bill and Mabel turned around and stared at each other.

Bill said, "Right! Forgot about that. Just—get over here."

"No!" Mabel shouted. "You get over here!"

Bill scowled. "Come on, kid. Your great-uncle and I are trying to do something here. If you don't want to come along, at least let Stanley have the other half of the bracelet—"

"I said NO!" Mabel planted her feet wide apart and tugged her wrist back as far as it could go. "You used me! You were only nice so you could go outside and I fell for it! As soon as you got what you wanted, you started acting like a huge poop face again!"

"Wow, language—"

"I'm not helping you anymore!"

Bill could feel his face heating up. "Kid, don't be ridiculous! You can't stand there forever! You're being..." selfish, irrational, petty—what word would get him what he wanted?

The pedestrian chatter over the inoffensive mall music had fallen silent. The feeling of being watched crawled over his back. (He seemed to discover another unpleasant new human bodily sensation every day.) Oh. Witnesses. There was no way the stranger in a shouting match with a little girl was coming out of this looking cool.

He could still save face if he got her uncle to do Bill's arguing for him. He turned hopefully to his new shoplifting buddy. "C'mon, she's—she's being unreasonable, right? We're talking about one watch, here."

And Bill had lost him. Stan's expression hardened. He crossed his arms and Bill flinched at the movement. "If a stupid watch is gonna upset Mabel that much..."

Families were so difficult to manipulate! Why did they have to gang up on him, it wasn't fair. He shot a furious glower at Mabel.

And then laughed, loudly enough for the rubberneckers to hear. "Okay, okay! You win. Sheesh, you look so serious. Peace talks in front of the Kidz Zone?"

Sternly, Mabel said, "Okay, but you do not get to ride the little coin-operated train."

"I wasn't gonna ask!" Bill paused. "Or the—?"

"Or the helicopter!"

Dipper called, "You haven't earned it, man."

"Fine," Bill snapped, "I didn't want to ride it." Swallow your disappointment, Cipher. Just play it cool.

When they'd rendezvoused, Bill said, "Okay, I might have gone a little overboard. Big deal. But we've been here all afternoon, we haven't eaten, I'm sure that's why everyone's so testy. Let's just swing by the food court and then get out of here."

Mabel frowned. "You're just trying to get us to stay."

"Yes. I am. So that we can eat before we go." If he ended this on a win, even a small win, that would be what everyone took away and he could call this trip progress. "Funny thing about human bodies is they need to be fed a couple times a day. Maybe you've noticed."

Dipper frowned. "Dude, you're only eating twice a day?"

"I don't question your diet, get off my back. What do you think, Stanley, feed the kids before we go?" Bill might've lost Mabel, but he had a shot at securing Stan. He could work on Mabel again once they were home. "You wanna drive home a couple of cranky teens, or a couple of cranky and hungry teens?"

Dipper snapped, "We're only cranky because of—!"

"Nah, he's right," Stan said wearily. "I'm starving. We'll grab something quick to eat."

Bill immediately perked up; but Mabel's frown deepened.

####

"I want chicken strips," Dipper said. 

Mabel said, "I'm getting pizza."

Bill said, "I want—"

"I don't care what you want," Stan said. "I'm getting a burger and you're getting the fries."

"Oh, so you want to find out what I'm like when I'm the cranky and hungry one?"

Stan grunted. "Fine. Your budget's five dollars. I really do only have a twenty."

"Fine." Bill drifted over to Mabel, who'd gotten in line in front of the food court's pizza booth. "Hey, Shooting Star—"

"Leave me alone, jerk."

"Whoa, am I not allowed to get a slice of pizza?"

Mabel didn't respond. She was glaring through the glass display window at the available pizza flavors as she waited for her turn to order. Apparently Bill interpreted that as permission to stay and look over the flavors himself. 

Standing so close to Bill Cipher when Mabel didn't want him there was like having a monster breathing down her neck. She hadn't realized how hover-y he could get until it stopped being fun. She remembered something like this from Ford's lesson on cults and con artists, how they try to get into your head by talking and talking and not giving you any time and space to breathe.

She could feel Bill's heavy gaze on the side of her face. Dipper and Stan were at the next restaurant over, but Bill stood between her and them. The chain bracelet on her wrist felt like a handcuff. She wanted to rip it off and be free of him. She wanted to go home.

"I've never had American pizza before," Bill said. "What do you think, cheese or Hawaiian?"

Mabel screwed up her face. "Ew, the one with pineapple?"

Bill's grin twitched wider. "Is that a vote for cheese, then?"

Gross, he was trying to get her to talk again. She glared at the pizza more determinedly. "Get what you want, I don't care."

Bill sighed. "Fine. You're no fun." He looked over the pizzas—standing too close—for one brief moment of heavy silence; and then, pointing between the cheese and Hawaiian, murmured to himself, "Eenie, meenie, miney..."

Mabel's whole body went stiff.

####

She felt the oppressive oven-like heat of Bill's dark floating pyramid, a too-euclidean temple built without the comfort of humans in mind, so hot that touching the walls burned your skin; and she felt a sticky sweat running down her back. She felt the constant electrical static of Bill's glowing shadowy grip around her waist. Every time she shifted and struggled, her sweater crackled and stung her. Bill's hand felt like nothing, absolutely nothing, and it was crushing and inescapable.

She could hear his voice, that forced jollity pushing to the verge of exhausted hysteria, saying, "I think I'm gonna kill one of them now just for the heck of it!"

She could see his eye like a blood red spotlight, eye like an incinerating laser, the light swallowing her and Dipper; she heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears; she saw the symbol that represented her flashing in Bill's eye, and even before he stopped she knew it would be her. 

"EENIE... MEENIE... MINEY..."

She saw his hand tremble with rage as he prepared to snap her out of existence.

"YOU!"

####

"Hey, you." Bill put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "What are you getting? Maybe we can split two slic—"

There was a wild look in Mabel's eyes.

The moment she seized his upper arm, he knew he was ending up on the floor and it was going to hurt.

She spun her back to him, jerked him against her, and flipped him over her shoulders. It was bizarrely relaxing, that second spent floating upside-down in the air. Familiar, comforting.

And then he slammed back first on the tile floor. And it hurt.

He stared wheezing at the faraway lights until his internal organs remembered how to lung. The world was too bright; he'd lost his sunglasses. He sat up and gingerly felt the back of his head. It had cracked open, he was leaking internal organs—no. That was his hair. His head was fine.

Dizzily, he asked, "What was that for?" He shook his head to clear it. "Hey. Hey! What the heck was that for!" He grabbed the counter and got to his feet, and almost slipped back down on his first attempt. "I've been a little obnoxious but what'd I do to deserve a surprise attack out of nowhere? What, were you just waiting for a chance to get the jump on me—"

And then he saw the look on Mabel's face—the absolute unadulterated terror—in the split second before she gave a little flinch of realization and the guilt kicked in.

Baffled, he looked past her and the confused nearby mall-goers to Stan and Dipper—who thankfully didn't look angry, but they also didn't look as confused as Bill felt. They had tight-lipped white-faced looks like they understood what they'd just seen perfectly.

"What," Bill said. "What'd I do? Was it something I said?" He racked his brain. He did something that scared the dickens out of them—because all of them were giving him that look—it was three against one, something must have happened that he didn't pick up on. Something that made humans nervous that wasn't important enough for someone like him to recall?

He didn't know what.

That was it. He lost. All his work was undone, they were afraid of him again, they saw him as a threat and they'd lock him back up in the shack. There went any chance of ever seeing the outside world before his execution. There went his hopes of befriending the more pliable humans, or winning Ford back over. There went his conversations with Mabel. And he didn't even know what he did wrong.

If he killed Mabel and cut the bracelet cord, was he fast enough to escape before Stan and Dipper could react? If he lunged over the counter, could he get the pizza cutter and slit Mabel's throat before she flipped him again?

He saw a flickering glimpse of his uncoordinated scramble in the futures where he tried; the scene quickly fizzled out as he concluded it wouldn't work.

"Sorry," Mabel said. "Instinct. You know how martial arts are! You get it trained into your muscle memory, and... and... I... didn't mean to do that, that was my bad."

No less confused, Bill said, "Yeah, no, sure, it's—it's fine." He couldn't afford for it not to be "fine"; he didn't know what the other options were. "I know I cut an intimidating figure." He laughed weakly.

He couldn't apologize even if he wanted to. He didn't know what he was supposed to be apologizing for. He was still watching Mabel's face and Dipper's and Stan's for any context clues to explain what just happened.

And Mabel said, voice small and shaking, "You... don't wanna hurt us again, right?"

Bill blinked slowly at her.

It was the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

She had to know that. Everyone watching had to know that. Bill had been plotting how to hurt them again not fifteen seconds ago. He had every reason to want to hurt them—his very survival depended on finding a way to hurt them—and anyway, regardless of his intentions, obviously if he was asked he'd say "no," wouldn't he! As if he could admit to his captors that he did want to hurt them! It was such a breathtakingly stupid question that he could laugh.

He didn't laugh. He didn't point out how dumb she was for asking, or what a waste of time the question was, or remind her that they both knew there was only one answer. He didn't want to show off how effortlessly he could talk circles around humans; he didn't care about making her feel stupid.

He only wanted Mabel to stop looking at him like he terrified her.

So he said, "No. Of course I don't want to hurt you." He nodded toward Stan and Dipper, "No promises about these guys, they've been making fun of our fashion sense all afternoon, but... not you." He held up one hand, showing Mabel the friendship bracelet she'd given him with the evil eye beads. "You gave me a new job, remember?"

He'd hoped the jokey half-threat might help lighten the mood, maybe get her to smile; but she just nodded. "Okay."

Okay.

Stan shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Welp. I lost my appetite. We're going home."

####

Bill didn't care about Stan and Dipper glaring at his back as they trudged toward the exit, but Mabel walking so quietly beside him was sandpapering at his nerves. If he were back home and she were one of his usual pack of friends, he could just order her to perk up or else get out of his sight until she did—but that wouldn't work here, where he was currently not all powerful, he didn't have supreme control over everybody in the vicinity, and they did have to share a ride home. If he tried to get all imperious on her, she'd never speak to him again and Stan would probably break his skull.

What could he do to make her less nervous?

"Hey." He held out his hand to her. She gave it a quizzical look, then looked up at Bill. He said, "Can't hurt you if I can't use my hand, right? Unless you expect me to start biting."

Mabel said, "This isn't, like... a deal, is it—?"

"No! What? There's no deal, where would there be a deal?" Irritably, Bill said, "I'm just trying to help, if you don't think it's helpful then fine, whatever—"

Mabel took his hand. He shut up.

She flinched in surprise and pulled her hand back, holding the ring with the Fishmasons symbol. "I don't w..."

"I know you don't. Listen—we're all going to jail if we go back to 18th Century to return anything, but... I mean, we pass the ring kiosk on the way out, so..." Was that enough? Would that do anything?

She pushed it back into his hand. "You return it."

Irritation flared up his throat; he swallowed it down. "No problem." She was probably worried he was trying to set her up.

As they walked past the kiosk, he steered around to the side opposite the teen manning it; ran one hand over the rows of rings like he was idly inspecting the designs as he passed; and with a subtle movement, slid the stolen ring back amongst the others without pausing. He showed Mabel his empty hand to prove he'd done the deed.

As they moved passed the kiosk, she took his hand again. He squeezed hers back.

He'd find another way to get a message out to Kryptos. That dumb cheap ring probably wouldn't have worked anyway.

Dipper muttered, "You're still a threat if you have one hand free." He took Bill's other hand. They simultaneously shuddered. Never mind the being-watched feeling Bill had earlier, this was what the phrase "skin crawling" truly meant.

But Mabel immediately perked up. "Thanks, Dipper."

Oh! Sure! Thank him. Bill shot Dipper a dirty look and tightened his grip. (It wasn't even tight enough to hurt.) "I forgot how sweaty your palms are."

"Shut up."

Behind them, Stan grumbled, "I'm just glad you only have two hands."

"Hey!" Bill twisted around to give Stan an exasperated look. "Do you have any idea how much I envy you right now? This is torture. I can feel every fingerprint on these two. How come you're the only one who doesn't have to suffer."

Mabel laughed weakly. "Because Grunkle Stan never tried to end the world."

"Neither did I." He sighed exaggeratedly. "But fine—I'll take my punishment like an adult."

He'd gotten a laugh out of Mabel. That was good enough for now.

####

As soon as the car pulled around to the house side of the shack, before they'd even come to a stop, Bill unfastened his seat belt, shouldered open the door, and tumbled out into the sunlight and dirt. A couple of stolen shirts fluttered free.

"Hey!" Stan rolled down his window. "Get back—! How'd you get that door open?!"

"I never closed it!" Bill was already doing cartwheels across the grass, turned like a sunflower to catch the early evening sunbeams filtering through the trees. "I just pulled it close to the car."

"It was ajar the whole drive?!"

"A jar of what?" Bill's cartwheels were already better than the ones he'd tried earlier that day.

Mabel winced. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan, I should have checked..."

"It's not her fault!" Like heck was Bill letting Mabel get in trouble over one little door. "I'm an out-of-control agent of chaos! I'd ride home sitting on the roof if this body had the friction to stay put."

Stan snapped, "Next time, that's where I'm putting you!"

While Stan parked properly and everyone else got out, Bill got tired of cavorting and trudged up to the shack. He kicked his shiny new shoe against the wall as he waited for the Pines to let him inside.

"Glad that's over," Stan sighed. "I'm never going shopping with you again."

Yeah, sure he wasn't. Bill could work on him. Stan would want a new watch eventually.

"And I'm still starving," Stan said.

"Pizza," Bill said. Dipper and Mabel perked up like a couple of dogs that had just heard their owner say walk.

"Ehh..."

"Hawaiian," Bill added.

Stan looked considering. "I do appreciate pineapple's laid-back, tropical attitude." Dipper and Mabel groaned in disappointment.

Bill proposed, "Two pizzas."

The Pines and Bill went inside, and the door swung shut behind them.

None of the humans noticed the minuscule break Bill had kicked in the shack's unicorn hair barrier.

####

(Thanks for reading, y'all! I've been really looking forward to posting this chapter, so if you've got any comments or thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

[khaire-traveler]

So, my friend just left their job at a certain chain of grocery stores that starts with a W and decided to share some interesting facts with me. I thought y'all might find it interesting, too.

W has had a major problem with theft since introducing the "no plastic bags". People keep putting things in their personal bags at the self checkout or even leaving them purposely in their bags at the cash registers (and most cashiers don't actually check for hidden items if other bags are inside of the main bag or if it's not obvious).

They've applied new locks to certain items that hang because people would just pull them off of the old locks. They're actually planning to introduce more security measures in the future - specifically, putting many items behind locked glass doors.

W's self checkout now has features where it can detect a ticket switch (scanning another product in place of the actual product) and a mis-scan. Pretty interesting stuff! Apparently, though, it's not always 100% accurate, and if someone were to scan the second ticket in such a way that the camera above couldn't see it, it may not be able to detect it. The machine, however, can tell when two VERY different items do not match (ex: scanning a pair of expensive headphones as a fruit). If it detects a problem, the attendant can pause the transaction and review the footage of the last item that was scanned. Definitely a helpful security feature!

The greeters at the front of the store are trained to only check a receipt if there are unbagged items. Along with that, if they see a bag or backpack, they'll check receipts then, too, and will look inside of the bag if the customer allows it. Crazy thing is that you can deny having your receipt checked! They can't and won't do anything if a customer just walks past them, and if they try to stop a customer leaving, W can get sued.

The only W personnel who are allowed to deal with shoplifters and the like are the Asset Protection Team™. No one else is allowed to touch a suspected thief, nor are they allowed to accuse a customer of stealing. If a customer is accused of stealing and forced through a receipt check yet hasn't stolen anything, W legally has to compensate them for the hassle upon request (with proof, such as camera footage, the request simply can't be denied, though W may try to prolong the process).

W employees are required to clean up spills immediately upon seeing them. I'd say most employees will just leave the spill, grab the equipment, then come to clean it up in reality, but they're supposed to "guard" the spill until they can find another associate to help them clean it up. I'm just saying, but this seems like a really unfortunate distraction that could take an employee's attention away from other matters, such as if there's suspicious activity nearby and someone was purposely creating some kind of distraction. These spills do make their jobs harder, however.

One of the biggest issues that I heard about was people scanning the quantity of certain items as less than there actually were (specifically at self checkouts). Pastries and fruits are a good example of this. Some people will enter one cookie but actually have 3, for example. I think the items this happens most often with are cookies, donuts, avocados, bananas, lemons, limes, mangoes, cantaloupes, and any items that like those that don't require a weight to purchase. This is the case with most grocery store self checkouts, however.

Although many of the cameras W places within random store aisles are fake, those that are placed near expensive items tend to be legit cameras. There was a post that circulated online about how these cameras tend to be fake, and due to that post, you'll now see lots of thieves get caught on cameras that they assumed were not real. It's so wild when you see those videos on YouTube! Those videos literally expose the identities of the people who steal to potentially thousands of people across the world and establish shitty reputations for said people. Other stores are made aware of their identities and can more easily prevent the stealing!

Speaking of those videos, it's very silly to watch those thieves try to hide things in their coats or bags just to discover that the items don't fit. It's almost as if they didn't check beforehand to make sure they'd have enough room, especially without it being noticeable! I mean, don't they practice in a mirror or even have a loved one who checks to see if it's obvious? That's so wild to me!

While associates who are at registers and self checkouts aren't allowed to intervene if they see or suspect a thief, they do have to immediately alert the managers and asset protection. It's pretty wild to see this process in action and watch how quickly the team can move! I've even heard of asset protection being allowed to tackle customers they believe are stealing, although I've never seen this in action. I kind of feel like tackling a thief, especially one you're not sure is actually a thief, would be a good way to get W sued, you know?

I feel like SOOOOO many thieves get caught by giving themselves away, tbh. I guess this isn't something my friend told me, but I've seen it happen so many times in security footage videos on YouTube where the person stealing will look around them as they're grabbing the item, quickly put the item into wherever, look around again, and use a lot of nervous body language as they try to exit the store. Like, the best thieves I've seen have always acted very confident - being aware of their surroundings before grabbing the item, grabbing the item very casually, finding a casual way to slip it into somewhere as they walk away, and walking out with the confidence that they know exactly what they're doing and absolutely nothing is wrong. They seem to walk with their backs straight and their heads held up a bit, almost as if to say "I'm not worried". Either that, or they walk with a very relaxed stride, like that of someone who's just walking into W and walking back out for no reason in particular. When they put too much thought into how they walk, however, it becomes much more obvious. A dead giveaway is probably when the thief acts fidgety, seems paranoid, displays signs of being very nervous whenever an associate is nearby or watching them, and walks very rigidly. You also tend to see good thieves going to checkout lanes that are the furthest from an employee or are in a spot in the middle. Pretty interesting!

Please share this if you'd like! This information is very important for us customers to be aware of. Hopefully, we can spot security threats ourselves and report them to employees of any store! I'm sure many of these things happen at other stores besides W.

[kissitbttr]

can’t stop thinking about simon falling for harley quinn reader typa beat

it’s a slow burn for sure, definitely not love at first right because he hates her guts the first time price introduced her during debrief session. she's fucking deranged. has murdered countless of innocent people before and not to mention shoplifting?? like why would price think it'd be a good idea to have her as a temporary addition to tf141? this woman is a criminal. he hates how cheery and giddy she is, always waving her hand to greet the team, acting like she hadn’t done some very questionable things, dropping offhanded comments that makes him choke in his own spit, parading herself in short black and red outfits that barely covers her ass and chest EVEN during the mission. it annoys him to the fucking bone.

but then as time slowly goes by, he begins to warm up to her existence. he’s starting to care about her well-being, putting a mental note on what she likes and dislikes, stealing glances at her way to see if she’s comfortable ever so often. he notices how she carries a red lipstick wherever she goes. black if she’s not feeling herself. his lips often twitches into a small smile whenever she does something cute to him and always always making sure she's okay during every single mission. ‘you okay, love?’ or ‘tell me if something’s bothering you, yeah?’ is what he always says. sometimes when the team has to split up, he’d be the first one to say ‘she’s with me’ and it makes her heart warms.

he's amazed at how well she handles rifles, all while looking and acting pretty. (he finds her adorable overtime too but he'd die before admitting that to her). when he lent her his signature AAC Honey Badger, he was impressed by how smoothly she used it, but nothing beats the way she kills enemies with her pink oversized mallet.

‘i can kill them in five, boys ! just give me a sec’ is what she says in a cheerful tone with a giggle after price had notified that there’s too much guards for them to handle. before price could even protest, she already loaded up her gun and walk towards where the guards are. it was something ghost had never found so attractive before but the way she said it? the confidence? her strutting like she owns the shit? considered him rock hard at that point.

before she goes, she tells the boys to wait while she does her thing. but not before sending a wink to ghost’s direction. she has a spot for him, she makes sure he knows that.

the team watch her gracefully killing the enemies through the cameras. small splash of blood painted her face as she smiles up at the camera to give the boys a small wave. she then jumps to one of the guard and put them in a headlock, suffocating him with her thighs to crack his neck in one swift motion (oh he’d do anything to let her do that to him)

‘fucking hell… look at this lass go’ soap tsked, others agreed. especially simon. this is the first time he had found a woman looking incredibly sexy and sophisticated while blowing someone's head off. it’s almost impossible a woman like her actually exists.

so the moment he hears her being held captured by the enemies, his blood runs cold. ghost. goes fucking. BALLISTIC. like 100% feral, no one could stop this man from tearing down the whole fucking sky to save her. so he makes up a plan to save her with the team. from there, add this scene while we're on it. safe to say she was truly moved by it.

‘oh… you were actually going to save me?’ she asks giving him her puppy dog eyes,

he grumbled while nodding sheepishly, his grip around the rifle tighten. ‘yeah.. and it was a pretty damn good plan too’

‘i’m sorry... well, i can go back in again if you still want to do it..’ her voice coming out soft and tender,

he smiles softly underneath the mask. even with dried up blood decorating her nose and the corner of her lips, he still finds her beautiful,

mentally ill but beautiful.

‘no—no that’s okay. ‘m just glad you’re safe, sweetheart’

he finds being with her is easy. just as easy as breathing. his once cold heart now softened because of her. and it is reserved only for her

-

i’m a firm believer that ghost is into batshit crazy women he can’t fix

[chillyfrys]

Random stuff from the outsiders!

Chapter one~

Steve once held off 4 Socs with just a busted pop bottle by himself

Steve doesn’t like ponyboy cuz he’s a kid💀

Two-bit is a pro at shoplifting

Dallas was arrested at the age of 10-

Dally would jump small kids 😧

Johnny is “the gangs pet”

Johnny would rather be beaten, rather than yelled at..

Tough is the same as rough, and tuff means ‘cool’ or ‘sharp’

Soda gets tickets for speeding a lot 😘

“Sometimes I can’t stand Steve Randle! and I mean it!.. sometimes I hate him” 😡-ponyboy

Soda cried when Steve got hauled into the cooler once

One time in biology pony had to cut open a worm, but the razor wouldn’t cut.. so he just whipped out his switch blade-

Soda can put anyone to sleep if he wants to

Darry was voted ‘boy of the year’ once 😘

^And was captain of the football team

Soda wanted to marry Sandy.. 👿

“I wonder how he could stand being so handsome!” -Ponyboy watching Soda sleep

So that was just what I picked up from re listening to chapter one!

There’s probably so much I missed-

Might do chapter two another time!

Love ya all! 🫶🏼❤️

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

things that remind me of the nerdy prudes

(because like two people reblogged this one i did forever ago for the losers and i forgot how fun these are)

grace:

getting veggie tales songs stuck in your head as an adult, knee socks, eating all your broccoli, sparkly butterfly clips, watching sunlight glint off a lake through the treeline, guinea pigs, friendship bracelets off a water bottle, being secretly glad when someone you don’t like turns out to be a bad person, a bunch of cellophane candy wrappers crinkling at the bottom of your purse, being a little too into archery at summer camp, pastel bible highlighters, banana pancakes, tying way too many ribbons around the advent wreath, leggings under dresses, daydreaming about how you’d escape if you ever got kidnapped, strawberry ice cream, roller skating with almost too much protective gear on, cloud gazing, obvious family secrets that everyone refuses to tell you, feeling weirdly guilty for ordering your steak rare, bringing too many swaps to girl scout camp so you can trade with everyone, asking a new friend for their email address, long denim skirts

steph:

really dry liquid lipstick you bought in your freshman year of high school but refuse to throw out, 24 hour diners, typing in all lowercase but never actually changing the setting in your phone, listening to music you hate but gaslighting yourself until you enjoy it, really dark purple nail polish that looks black, collecting crystals even though you don’t really believe in them, saying your team bella (but secretly being team jacob), getting mad your vape was confiscated at your high school graduation, one million rings, coffee ice cream, tinfoil in a microwave, exclusively wearing sports bras, shoplifting, pink monster, thinking cigarettes are really hot, never wearing a jacket even if your cold, penny boarding, drinking four loko, regretting four loko, refusing to put your hair up even when you really should, kuromi, half fallen down led lights, playing your mom’s old guitar, sour skittles

pete:

planetariums, being overly competitive at board games, ginger ale, using a chapstick until it runs out, really liking marshmallows, really liking hot chocolate, hating marshmallows in your hot chocolate, buying a bunch of cool notebooks and never using them, forever dm, pretending you didn’t find asdf movies as funny as you actually did, m&ms, freezing cold hands, hand-me-down sweaters, only ordering chicken fingers and french fries, being intrinsically trusted by cats, carrying a clarinet to school every day, skipping episodes of next gen if they don’t feature data, praying on the first day of school that your teachers didn’t have your older sibling, transition glasses lenses (that you absolutely regret), dry krave cereal, secretly finding most museums really boring, grow-your-own-geode science kits, wing tip tap shoes, messenger bags, only doing extracurriculars that look good on college applications

ruth:

your comfort gay newsies fanfiction from middle school, being jealous of your younger sibling, those phone cases with glitter and charms floating in water, team edward and team jacob, wishing you hadn’t quit dance, buying fun jewelry and never wearing it, being devastated your hair is too dark to dip dye in kool aid, sticky lip gloss, painting every nail a different color, self sabotage, crushed velvet scrunchies, the grease soundtrack, wanting to be a rockette when you grew up, never learning how to do make up, begging to do figure skating as a kid, begging to do beauty pageants as a kid, begging to do cheerleading as a kid, turquoise braces bands, sinclair gas stations, showing up to an audition that you didn’t realize had a dance call, dunkin’ donuts munchkins, squirrel girl comic books, one half of a best friend necklace you wore longer than you should have

richie:

trying to get the marble out of a ramune bottle, wearing big headphones 24/7 (even if they aren’t playing anything), staining your best friend’s bathtub blue with hair dye, sour patch kids, enamel pins, discord calls across like three different time zones, the charlie bone book series, getting in trouble for drawing in class, being the friend with a car but also being a terrible driver, a pokémon card binder, that one kid who was really, really good at cup stacking, wearing shorts in the middle of winter, thirty-nine minute long voice memos, being exceptional at claw machines, vocaloid songs, your pet parakeet hanging out on top of your head, that one vaguely traumatizing round of the pocky game from seventh grade, regularly broken duolingo streaks, getting in trouble for bringing a real katana to your freshman year halloween dance

[lunastars21]

BEACH EPISODE COVERS FOR MY FANFIC’S NEWEST CHAPTER GO READDDD IT

[askteamhooligans]

I heard you guys have been around team shoplifters, are they friends or foes?

"They got a new member recently as well but I haven't met them personally yet, all I know is its finally NOT a weasel."

[aloysiavirgata]

What do you think Scully and Mulder would disagree on as parents? A prompt, if you will.

Scully wanted schedules. Meal plans. Calendars. She wanted piano lessons on Thursdays, swim lessons on Mondays, and labeled bins for the Legos and Thomas train cars. She wanted whole grains and bento boxes and clothes from Boden and Hanna Andersson and Tea Collection. Vacations in the Galapagos and the Grand Canyon. She wanted - in her most secret heart - for him to be the star of the soccer or lacrosse teams. Or both.

Mulder wanted the gauche consumerism of Disney World every spring. He wanted drippy ice cream cones and a perpetually muddy dog and troops of sticky neighbor children marauding through the back door so he could say JESUS CHRIST WILLIAM I’M NOT PAYING TO AIR CONDITION THE WHOLE STREET. He imagined burnt pig-anus hot dogs over a campfire, a floor strewn with action figures, snow angels, Chef Boyardee. No chess coach, no deportment classes, those new-fangled sneakers that lit up. He imagined Welch’s grape juice stains on the couch.

***

Scully, luscious and fully fleshed again, with William suckling at her blue-veined breast. Scully like a Renaissance Madonna reimagined by Margaret Atwood.

“My mother sold her wedding dress to pay for Charlie’s football gear,” she says, touching William’s rose petal cheek. “My father made pretty good money for the Navy and all, but four kids so close together…we ate a lot of spaghetti. Lots of hand me downs. Missy shoplifted makeup a whole lot, if my mother ever knew…”

“Malnutrition why you’re so short?” he asks, because he knows she wasn’t actually malnourished.

She scowls. “It was never dirty, my mother would have died first. But just…you know. Heaps of rain boots at the door and school books on the table and hair ribbons and pencil stubs and recorder sheet music and half a cream-cheese-and-jelly sandwich withering on a plate because Bill and Missy were pinching each other…”

Scully trails off, switches the baby to her other breast. Remembers dinners of store-brand fish sticks and creamed corn because one of them had an unexpected pricey field trip.

William gurgles, clutches a fistful of his mother’s silky hair. Blows a raspberry beneath her Delft pottery gaze.

Mulder kisses William’s warm, fragrant head.

Mulder remembers his father, pleasantly loquacious on bourbon, teaching him about shoulder lines and top-stitching at 8. His mother and Samantha in matching ruffled Gunne Saxe dresses, the starched disapproval of the maid when he tracked footprints over the fresh vacuum lines in the carpet.

Chicken a la King, wedge salad, Steak Diane, swigs of his mother’s sidecar…

William hiccups, dribbling milk down his fat cheek. He begins to hiccup more, which makes him laugh at first, and which then makes him cry.

“It was just always loud and chaotic,” Scully says, propping the baby against her shoulder. “Someone was always hurt or in trouble or pulling hair or getting their hair pulled…it was impossible to think or relax. College was such a gift.” She remembers a study- fort she built in the San Diego coat closet.

William belches, then cheerfully vomits down her cleavage.

Scully groans.

Mulder mops her up with tender precision, watches William try to stuff his dinner-roll fist into his mouth.

“It’s been silent at my house for twenty-eight years,” Mulder says.

[tabithatwo]

hi hello thinking about how neither lottie or taissa is advocating for their sight or championing themselves.

lottie quietly doing the best she can to lean into what she hopes is real to give the others protection and faith, yes! but it isn’t I CAN LEAD YOU (especially this season) it’s I can quietly do the things that can’t hurt, in case they help. it can’t hurt to prick my finger and they’ve come back safe so far and I’m aware of my mental health I’m OH so aware and I know the dangers of delusions being proven correct by happenstance by setting up an infallible cause and effect by building my own reality BUT but. it’s just a prick and it’s just a sip and if I don’t do it now and they don’t come back safe then I AM the reason. it can’t hurt IT CAN’T HURT.

but see, now she’s stuck. she’s wedged into this place of having followers and she can’t tell them how she feels, partly because she isn’t even sure how she feels to begin with because nothing is real and everything is far too real!! (because BECAUSE lottielee jackieshauna parallels and so much post laura lee was not in our view, we didn’t fall as deep deep deep into the rabbit hole with lottie as we did with shauna, but this season has confirmed it for us. lottie and shauna both lost reality when they lost Them and they were both already girls with a loose grip of reality to begin with) so it’s That, but it’s also because she isn’t Lottie The Girl From New Jersey Who Shoplifts, she’s not herself, she’s what they make of her. she’s Lottie The Reason We Will Survive This.

she was on the other side of this dynamic, she felt that anger at jackie, she felt that sense of betrayal, she felt that letdown, that rebellion in her heart. because jackie wasn’t serving them the way they wanted needed craved being served. jackie couldn’t be that person. jackie who had been divisive in her leadership before they even crashed, because what is leadership if not a spotlight that people can adjust to make you glow like something ethereal or to point out all your flaws with great illumination? jackie had larger than life expectations put on her (and they were warm and sunny and positive some of the time yes, but that all curdles when it’s left in the spotlight too long.)

so suddenly lottie is divisive. there are teams around her and against her and myth built up, but the myth isn’t that she’s the bratty unhelping girl who gets whatever she wants like it became for jackie, the myth is she is our only hope. she is our savior and salvation and seer. and she doesn’t need to even say anything to make that so. jackie didn’t need to say anything to make them color her selfish (other, but bad). lottie doesn’t need to say anything to make them color her anointed (other, but good). she is girl vessel, girl hopes, girl dreams, a witch hunt where she Better Be A Witch.

doomcoming lottie snapped. she was On drugs and she was Off drugs and she was tired and she gave them something to cling to that they could shape into more with the seeds of the past (bear and blood and you get the picture) that they’d already been trying to plant in her image. (jackie did the same that night. she snapped, she yelled, she gave them something to cling to that they could shape into more with the seeds of the past that they’d already been trying to plant in her image, do you SEE??)

and of COURSE natalie understands both lottie and jackie. of course she knows what it’s like to be doing nothing but your best, to not want the responsibility, to be seen more as liability than asset, even though the only reason you can fail so hard is because you provide so much. before the crash and after, because girl carrying the weight of family secrets and girl who bears their insecurities and girl who SEES that they are insecure so she cannot even bring herself to be ANGRY with them and girl who hunts. girl who hunts and feeds, but now who hikes and disappoints, because there is no game to bring home, but that can only be Her Failure because it is Her Contribution, do you hear me are you with me??

so natalie walks for miles and she eulogizes jackie and she steps out of her reward her one small comfort and she makes sure that lottie sinks into the hot water and she apologizes, she apologizes, she apologizes. because maybe she’s mad, maybe she says it isn’t fair in the heat of the moment, but at the end of the day she knows who she is and what she is and all that they’ve made her and she carries that responsibility. (like jackie the girl she wasn’t home to save and lottie the girl she doesn’t know how to reach. it’s too late for them, there are no words to undo it. jackie was sealed when she made captain and natalie was sealed when she pulled the trigger and lottie was sealed when she warned van.)

and taissa finally TAISSA. she has hidden her secret. little girl looking in the mirror and seeing something that shouldn’t be there and older girl who is hearing things that she shouldn’t hear and leading people places she shouldn’t be able to lead them to. she doesn’t want it and she’s made it the Most Known of them all. don’t tell lottie, don’t tell the others, don’t bring it up. and van who champions her so naturally, so routinely, so lovingly for all the normal things. van who believes in the supernatural. van who has simply refused to die. van can’t hold it in anymore, because taissa’s sight Brought Back Javi. but tai doesn’t want her to mention it to the others. tai is perceptive and tai understands power struggles and she’s tired and hates this part of herself and she’s scared and she’s logical and she doesn’t want to Be Lottie (not lottie the girl from New Jersey who shoplifts, but lottie who better be a witch).

so maybe I’m seeing things myself, maybe I’m reading too deep, but here’s what I saw in old wounds.

lottie, who sits quietly while the others discuss her prophecy. lottie, who seems to have developed an openness to a different view of jackie in her death, because she was girl there and now she’s girl gone and she served them again in death and maybe lottie didn’t quite have the right idea of her and maybe lottie is in her seat now, in a way. lottie, who wanders into the snow without ever really agreeing because it was never really a choice, and cuts her hand because it can’t hurt IT CANT HURT.

natalie, who signed up to hunt when it was spring and warm and possible, who knows that it will be hers always and forever now. natalie, who will always be the reason they are starving, more than the reason they are fed. natalie, who is jealous of the girl who is bone, because she was allowed death. natalie, who has sympathy for all of them and knows that lottie has been made her rival through the mechanisms of group projection than her own volition. so she bathes her and tends to her and apologizes to her.

taissa, who has always been a leader and always been under scrutiny but did so in a way She Could Control. taissa, whose deepest secrets are being unfolded before her eyes because she can’t stop herself from divulging them when she is unconscious. taissa, who might start to think that maybe lottie didn’t ask for this.

so jackie is bone, and natalie is hunter, and lottie is seer, and taissa might be even more so. natalie alone in the realm of the mundane (for this), but aware of them all, so I’ll set her aside for a moment.

jackie accidentally opened the door to this spiritualism. she was the seance and doomcoming (and the first communion), but she didn’t mean for it to be that. she meant to cheer them up.

lottie thought that jackie had it wrong, thought that she didn’t use her position to protect the girls, because she refused to work with the woods and lottie tries to save them and protect them and negotiate with the wilderness for them.

taissa thinks that lottie has it wrong, because she feeds into their delusions and her power is a runaway train in this setting and taissa wants to keep them alive in the best way. the practical way. except that logical leadership never led to anything out here and her other self, her spiritual self, found javi after months.

pedestals and wrecking balls and clearer views once you’re hoisted up with the girls on them. girls who are not Them but who are What Others Say. shauna dictating jackie and mari dictating lottie and van dictating taissa and everyone dictating natalie. everyone meaning the best and riding the high of delivering it, until it’s cut out from beneath them. you don’t go from great to fine. the mighty don’t fall to land on a straw bed with the rest of them, thanks for trying and welcome back. they are Icarus and their love for the others is flight and their belief that They Can Do It Better is the sun and the sun burns. in death or in life or in dreams.

and maybe in old wounds lottie understood jackie a little more and taissa understood lottie a little more and nat, who has always been able to understand them all, can watch and wait and hope that it changes things. but it won’t. because they aren’t driving their own stories anymore.

so they’ll hunt and they’ll bleed and they’ll walk in their sleep and, no matter what they say or don’t say, the others will fill in the gaps.

[novamariestark]

Like A Virgin

Summary: Your most embarrassing secret comes out and somehow it ends differently than you thought it would.

Warnings: age gap, smut, pretty much 90% smut, oral (m+f receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), virgin reader, first time,

Word count: 4069 (I swear that number is unintentional)

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Alden Parker x virgin!reader

[A/N] Guess who's back bitches!!! 🤭🤭

Was I dreaming? Or is this actually happening? Was the sexiest man I’d ever laid my eyes upon really buried between my legs?

His tongue darting between the wet lips, trying for find the sensitive bud. The simplest touch of the tip of his tongue, sent shivers through your body. You’d read about this, you heard your friends tell you about it but you never believed it felt this good.

And to think, you owe it all to that big mouthed best friend of yours, Nick.

What turned out to be a simple conversation, turned into the most embarrassing yet best conversations ever. Why? Because your silver fox, sexy ass boss, is between your legs, his face buried in your folds as he licks, sucks and nibbles at the soft flesh.

You hadn’t told anyone, no one at all, because you were ashamed. Why? Who knows. But you definitely did not want your co-workers to know, especially not… him. After a particularly long, hard case, Nick decided… forced, you all to engage in a team bonding exercise “Never Have I Ever”

What did that have to do with team bonding? That’s exactly what you asked Nick. He has been trying to get something out of you about relationships, sex and everything that goes with it. Sure you had boyfriends in the past, you weren’t that sad. But you didn’t just want to give it up to just anyone. You wanted the one. And the moment you laid eyes on him. You knew. But you also knew it was never going to happen. So you guessed you’d die a virgin or you just go to a bar and give it up to the first sleazy guy that was interested.

The game started off relatively PG, until it came to be Nick’s turn.

“Never have I ever had sex in public,”

“Really?” you asked, “Are you 12?”

“Size 14 actually” he said as he took a sip of coffee because we obviously don’t have alcohol stashed in your desk drawers. At least you didn’t. You rolled your eyes at the comment, and everyone took note that you were the only one who didn’t take a sip

“What?” you asked as you noticed all their eyes on you and the drink in your hand.

“You’ve never been adventurous outside of the bedroom?” Nick asked, a smirk finding it’s way onto his face, he had you now. “What have you done, little miss innocent?”

“You only get to ask one question, Nicky,” you said, trying to get as far away from the topic of sex as you could, especially considering your boss, and the owner of your heart and every other part of your body, if he wanted, was sat across from you. So you ask a somewhat, safe question, “Never Have I ever shoplifted,” you asked and you took a sip of your drink.

Obviously, it was like a million lifetimes ago and it was really ridiculous now that you think about it. All you took was a simple pink hairband, but nonetheless, you took it without paying.

“Oh my God, we’ve been working with a maniac,” Nick gasped over dramatically, “But seriously... that's your question? Come on, ask a juicier one,"

"No!"

He looked at you as if he were trying to read your mind, "Wait a minute... have you never?"

You felt the room spinning around you as everyone looked your way, your heart racing and your cheeks burning up like the sun.

You blurt out, "Fine okay! I haven't!" Your voice quivered as you spoke, and you could feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes. The room fell silent, and for a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of it. You looked around, expecting judgement, pity, or laughter, but instead, you saw a a few surprised faces but Alden's face gave nothing away. No one said a word, and you felt like you could hear the thunderous sound of your own heartbeat in the quiet.

Swiftly, you stand up, knocking over your chair in the process. You didn’t care. You had to get out of there. You grab your bag and rush towards the restroom, trying to keep your composure as you go. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could feel the eyes of your colleagues burning into your back. The cool metal door hits you with a bit more force than you meant it to, and you stumble into the restroom, locking it behind you.

Once inside, you lean against the door, taking deep breaths and trying to keep it together. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoes through the small space, offering a momentary sense of security. Your hand shakes as you lift it to your face, wiping away the rogue tear that had escaped. You look at yourself in the mirror; your makeup is a mess from the hasty retreat. You hastily fix your mascara, which had started to run, and smooth out your hair. You take a deep breath, telling yourself that you can get through this.

When you finally feel presentable, you turn the handle and push the door open, only to find Alden leaning on the wall across from the restroom, his arms folded over his chest and his gaze fixed on the floor. He looks up as the door swings outward, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, you consider retreating back into the safety of the bathroom, but the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. "What are you doing here?" you ask, your voice still shaky.

He straightens up, looking at you with a mix of concern and something you can't quite read, "I wanted to make sure you were okay." His voice is low and calming, but it does nothing to ease the storm of emotions raging inside you. You're acutely aware of the fact that he now knows your secret, and you're not sure how to handle it.

"I'm fine," you lie, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. "I just needed a moment." you look at the floor, the wall behind him, anywhere. Anywhere but him, "I suppose everyone will think I'm some kind of sad loser now," you let out a breathy laugh even though all you want to do is cry.

Alden takes a step towards you, "They don't and they would never," he says firmly, his eyes searching yours for some sign that you believe him. "If anything, they're surprised, I know I am,"

"Surprised,”

"Yes," he says, taking another step closer, "I mean, you're smart, funny, beautiful..." His voice trails off, and he looks at you with a softness that you've never seen before in his eyes. It's a look that makes your stomach flip but it also has an effect somewhere else, somewhere a little more south. Your eyes avert from him, not wanting him to see exactly what you were thinking. Thinking about him. How he just made you feel with one sentence. You can't help but imagine what else that tongue could do.

He must have read your face because his expression shifts, his eyes darkening slightly. "I could help you with that," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Your heart skips a beat, "What?" you blinked a couple of times. Did you hear him right? Or is this your imagination? Again.

"I said," he takes another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, "I could help you with that."

You swallow hard, your mouth feeling like it's filled with sand. You've thought about it so many times, even at work, when you've stared at his beautiful hands as they glide over documents and computer keyboards, wondering what they'd feel like on your bare skin. But you've never, ever imagined him saying it out loud, especially not here, in the stark fluorescent light of the office hallway.

"You don't mean..." you start to protest, but your voice trails off. What could he possibly mean? Did he just offer to...?

Alden nods, a knowing smile playing on his lips, "I do. I could be your first," he says, his voice low and enticing. You can't believe what you're hearing. Your boss, the man you've had a crush on since the moment you and McGee interrogated him, is offering to take your virginity. It's like a dream come true, but in the most unexpected way possible.

You feel your cheeks flush even more, and you stumble over your words, "I-I don't know what to say."

Alden steps closer, his voice gentle, "You don't have to say anything. The offer is there if you want it, no pressure," he says, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but lean into it slightly. He seems to notice and smiles, "You need a ride home?"

You nod, unable to form coherent words. You follow him towards the elevator. The ride down seemed to take forever. Too much close proximity and you were about to get into his car. Alone. You felt like a teenager again, the butterflies in your stomach had returned. You're nervous, excited, and a little bit terrified. You've seen movies, read books, but this was your first time feeling like this about someone.

The elevator doors open with a soft ding, and you both step out into the dimly lit parking garage. His car is parked right outside. He opens the door for you, and you slip inside, the leather seats cool against the thin fabric of your pants. The scent of his cologne fills the car, and you can't help but take a deep breath. He gets in and starts the engine, the low purr echoing through the space.

As he drives, the silence between you is thick and palpable. You can't stop thinking about his offer. You want to ask a hundred questions, but you're afraid of what the answers might be. You look over at him, his profile lit by the passing streetlights, his jaw clenched as he focuses on the road. You wonder if he's regretting his words or if he's just as lost in thought as you are.

Your eyes wonder back to his hands, gripped tightly on the steering wheel. You bite your lip, as the things he could do to you with those very hands played through your mind like a dirty movie. One you really wanted to star in. You absentmindedly squeeze your thighs together. Never had a man made you feel this way.

Should I do it? Should I lose my virginity?

But what about waiting for the right guy? If he isn't the right guy, I don't want anyone else.

The back and forth in your mind takes over, and you don't even realise it's been so long when Alden taps your shoulder.

"This is you," he said softly gesturing to your house. You looked over your shoulder and you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Now you won't see him until tomorrow.

Unless...

"You want to come in?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn't know why you were asking, but something inside you just didn't want him to leave just yet. Alden looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours before he nodded slowly.

He followed you in, the door clicking shut behind you. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. You led him into the living room, flipping on a lamp to cast a warm glow across the room, "I'm not sure what to do, I mean I've watched stuff and read.."

He stopped you, "I told you we don't have to, [Y/N], no pressure,"

You nodded, "I know, I just..." You didn't know what to say. "I want you, I-I feel it," you stutter not sure if you made sense.

He stepped towards you slowly, giving you time to retreat should you want to. His raised his hand to gently move your face to look at him, "Where do you feel it?" he asked, his hand releases your chin and starts moving down, his hand ghosting over you, not making full contact in case you didn't want it, "Here?" he asked, his hand over your stomach, you shook your head 'no' and he continued further down, until he reached your clothed pussy, "Here?"

You nodded shamefully and looked away and his hand found your chin again, "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, a small cocky smirk made it's way onto his lips, "More than okay," you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help but smile. "Has anyone else made you feel something there?"

You shook your head 'no' again and his smile grew wider, "Just you,"

"I can still leave," he said, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate through your entire body.

"I don't want to disappoint you," you murmur, the words barely leaving your lips. The tension in the room is thick, charged with the electricity of possibility. You want him so badly it hurts, you need him. Now.

"You could never disappoint me," Alden whispers, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip. Your heart skips a beat, and you can feel the heat building between your legs. He steps closer, and you can't resist leaning into his touch. He takes this as an invitation, his other hand sliding around your waist, pulling you against him. You can feel his erection pressing against your waist, and you gasp.

He kisses you then, a soft, gentle kiss that sends shockwaves through your body. It's the first time you've ever been kissed with such tenderness, as if you were made of the most delicate material and he didn't want to break you. You melt into it, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. His hand moves up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing so fast you think it might just burst out of your chest.

You can taste the mint on his breath, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You've never felt so alive, so wanted, so... desired. His other hand travels down to cup your ass, squeezing gently, and you can't help but moan into his mouth. The sound seems to ignite something in him, because he suddenly picks you up, his hands under your thighs, and carries you over to the couch. He lays you down gently, his body hovering over yours.

"You want to stop?" he asked you, breathing heavily as he regains his breath. you shook your head 'no' once more, "I need words, baby. Once we start, I don't think I'll be able to stop,"

"Yes, please fuck me," you begged moving to kiss him again but he pulls away, just out of reach of your lips, you frown, "I thought..."

"I do, trust me, but I'm not going to fuck you. It's your first time, baby, I'm gonna make it special," he says, his voice gruff with desire. He leans down and kisses you again, slower this time, letting you feel the passion in his lips, the promise in his touch. His hand slides up your thigh, to your covered pussy, "Can I?"

You nod eagerly and he smiles against your lips before he starts to unbutton your trousers. He kisses along your jaw to your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The fabric of your trousers sliding down your legs, exposing your simple black lace underwear. His eyes darken as he looks at them, "These are beautiful," he says, his thumb tracing the lace band. He leans down and kisses your neck, sucking gently, leaving a mark that you know will be there tomorrow.

You reach down to palm him through his pants but just as your fingertips touched the fabric, he pulled your hand away, "No, It's all about you right now, baby,"

Alden's eyes are burning into yours as he runs his thumb over your underwear. You can feel the wetness that's already seeped through the material. He leans down and kisses you again, his hand sliding your underwear to the side. You gasp into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your clit. It's like a bolt of lightning shooting through you, making your body arch off the couch. His other hand is under your shirt now, his rough thumbs teasing your nipples. You can feel them harden under his touch, and you whimper.

He breaks the kiss, looking down at you with hunger in his eyes, "You're so beautiful, so responsive," he murmurs, his voice a low growl. He kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He kisses down your chest, pausing to pay special attention to your breasts. His tongue flicks over one nipple, then the other, making you moan. He pulls your shirt off completely, leaving you in just your bra. He takes his time unclipping it, the anticipation killing you. When it finally falls away, he groans, "Fuck," before taking your breast into his mouth, his hand still working your clit.

You've never felt anything like this before. The pleasure is intense, almost too much, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You start to move your hips in sync with his thumb, your breaths coming in pants. He kisses down your stomach, his tongue tracing the waistband of your panties

And now that’s how you got here. Your first time, Is with Alden Fucking Parker.

***

“You’re so wet,” he murmured against your skin, his voice sending delicious vibrations through your core.

It’s like he had a PhD in the art of pleasuring a woman. His tongue, the perfect weapon, caressing your clit in just the right way. It was like he had a manual and studied it every night.

Everything about him was intoxicating—his scent, the way he groaned as he tasted you, the way his beard scraped your thighs as he worked.

He was the kind of man who could charm the panties off any woman and make her feel like the only one in the room. And here he was, doing just that to you.

But it was the way he looked at you that had me questioning everything. His eyes, a piercing blue, they were filled with a hunger that you’d never seen before. It was like he was starving for you, and you were his last meal.

But it wasn’t just the physical. It was his confidence, his command, his authority that had you wetter than the ocean. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t afraid to take it. It was a turn on like no other.

As his tongue continued to dance against your clit, your body began to tighten. The pressure building, your moans grew louder, your hands found their way into his hair, gripping tightly.

“Oh God, I’m going to come,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He smirked against your skin, not missing a beat, his mouth working harder. And just like that, you shattered.

But what happens now? Would we pretend this never happened? was this the start of something? Or was it just a one-time thing?

Parker reaches to unbuckle his belt and looks down at your face, your thoughts must have been written boldly across it because he paused, "We can stop if it's too much," he whispered, reaching down and stroking my cheek gently. A gesture you had never experienced from a boyfriend before. His thumb wiped away a tear that had escaped your eye.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead.

He stood, the sound of his zipper echoing in the quiet room, and stepped out of his pants. He was already hard, and the sight of him took your breath away. He was everything you had ever imagined and more. You watched as he kicked his pants to the side and took his shirt off, revealing a chest that was peppered with the cutest hairs ever. He was perfection, and you were about to get to touch him.

He moved closer to you, and you could see the veins in his arms as he reached for you. His cock was thick and long, standing tall and proud against his stomach. The tip was already glistening with precum, and you felt your mouth water at the thought of taking him in. You bit your lip, your eyes never leaving his huge member.

He sat back down on the bed, his cock jutting out in front of him. "Do you want to?" he asked tentatively although his voice gruff and full of lust.

You nodded, eager to taste him. You leaned forward, your hand reaching out to wrap around his length. He was hot and hard in your hand, and you couldn't help but moan as you took him into your mouth. He tasted salty and musky, and it was everything you had ever dreamed of.

He groaned above you, his hand reaching down to stroke your hair as you bobbed your head up and down. His cock filled your mouth, and you could feel his pulse against your tongue. You sucked harder, feeling him swell even more.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" he breathed out, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a natural."

You blushed at the praise, but didn't stop. You liked the feeling of his cock in your mouth, liked the way he reacted to you. You liked the power you had over him.

You reached up and cupped his balls, gently squeezing as you took him deeper. He bucked his hips, and you knew he was close. You could feel his orgasm building, and you wanted to be the one to make him come.

You sucked harder and he tensed. "I'm going to cum," he warned, and you nodded. Then, without warning, he pulled out of your mouth and stood up. "I want to be inside you when I come," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Do you want that?"

You nodded again, not trusting your voice. You had never wanted anything more in your life. He climbed onto the bed, his body covering yours. He kissed you hard, his tongue delving you’re your mouth, tasting himself on you. It was erotic and raw, and you were completely lost in the moment.

He positioned himself at your entrance, and you felt the tip of his cock pushing against you. He was so big, and you were so tight. You were a little scared, but mostly excited. This was it. You are going to lose your virginity to the most amazing man you had ever met.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, and he pushed in. It hurt at first, but then it felt... right. Like he was made to be inside you. You moaned into his mouth as he filled you completely, his cock stretching you open.

He began to move, his hips thrusting in and out gently. It felt so good, so much better than you could have ever imagined. And as he fucked you, you felt something building inside of you again. An orgasm, this time deeper and more intense than the one before.

You dug your nails into his back, your hips moving with his. He groaned, his movements growing faster and more erratic. "You're so tight," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "So fucking tight."

You could feel him getting closer, his cock pulsing inside of you. And then, with one final thrust, he came, his warmth filling me up. You followed right after, your body convulsing around him.

You lay there, panting and sweaty, for what felt like hours. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you tightly. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, your cheek pressed against his chest. "More than okay," you murmured. "That was amazing."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "It was," he agreed. "But we're not done yet."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

He smirked, "I mean, we're just getting started, baby."

@mandy426 @writeandsurvive