#god this one was a pain to make. fucking picnic blanket and fucking credits

[langernameohnebedeutung]

Sorry to drop in unannounced. But this guy on the bus, he was so bald. I could almost see his brain. I had to take the edge off before things got weird, and you were closest.

[jeonfiles]

better left unsaid - jjk

genre: angst, rebounds

pairings: jungkook x reader (ft. namjoon)

warnings: arguing, alcohol, profanity, break ups, light smut, use of drugs, jungkook is a fucking dick, jungkook has major attachment issues, toxic relationships, oc cries a lot, namjoon has a heart of gold, unrequited love

synopsis: you knew you shouldnt have given him that second chance, not the third or the fourth either. no matter how much you try he always slithers his way underneath your sheets, arms wrapped around you.

word count: 2.7k

music: into your arms, so it ends?, you will fade, thinkin bout you, julia, my insecurities not yours, fuck u, goodluck, my dear i will think of you

note: uhh ive never written a y/n fic so bare with me, if u listen to the music you’ll be able to feel the story a lot more so yeah if u have time u should, not proof read

Light coming through the cracks of the blinds, making you squint your eyes when the daylight beams into your eyes, head resting on the kitchen island Looking up, you saw the clock ticking on the wall, 11:32 am.

You had stayed up till 5 am, waiting for him to come home, but seemingly, he never did. Reaching for your phone, you saw 4 missed calls from the one and only,

Jeon Jungkook, saved in your phone as “Koo <3″, Rows of messages too, all from the same contact.

Koo <3 [05:34 am]

baby pkck me up pleseee

im so wsated

Koo <3 [06.46am]

dont be mad at me jsut pick me up

i dont knw hewere the fuck i am

i love you

Koo <3 [07:31 am]

i got a rde home i’ll be home by 12

i need to talk to someone frsit

im sorry if i woke ypu dont be worried

You took a few moments to collect your thoughts, but there wasn’t much to collect. This whole thing, was a routine by now.

Standing up to make yourself a cup of coffee, you could literally not feel your own backside, you were so sore from the barstool you had been sitting on all night, and it made you groan in pain.

Two coffee cups right beside the kitchen sink, which you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up, because it was from the last time you had coffee together, which was 2 weeks ago.

The inside of the cup had a coffee crust at the top, and both your lip tint marks on the outside.

When you finish your cup of coffee while watching a bad telenovela, you go sit in your favorite chair and pull out a few books from the backpack hanging on the chair next to you, getting ready to get some studying done.

For a few seconds you imagine Jungkook hanging over your shoulder laughing at the way you write your A-s and R-s, or the way you always sign your homework at the bottom of the page.

And when you open them, there’s no one there. The only sound is from the refrigerator, making refrigerator noises.

You had met Jungkook 3 years ago, when you were at college orientation, senior year of high school. He also wanted to attend Yonsei, just like you.

And when he whispered to you about how bored he was, you couldn’t help but giggle, and then you got yelled at.

It was worth it though, because everyone was jealous of you afterwards,the  Jeon Jungkook had talked to you.

Jungkook was an all-rounder as they called it; great physique, intelligent, charismatic and great at sports.

And god, he had a beautiful face, and such a filthy mouth, and it didn’t go long before you gave in to his seductive ways and slept with him. The morning after, he wasn’t in bed with you, and your heart sank.

Luckily, he was in the kitchen making you breakfast.

It was all bliss from there, showering you with love, gifts and kisses for two years, and you even ended up moving in together.

And now? You barely remember what he sounds like, smells like and is like.

A distant memory, just as distant as him.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted as you heard 3 knocks on your door. The exact same way he had always knocked when he had forgotten (or lost) his keys.

And even though you should have let him suffer a little, you rushed to the door to open it, and in front of you, was your biggest nightmare.

It was your love, crying his eyes out, bleeding from one of many cuts on his face, looking nearly dead. He collapsed into your arms, and you could only utter a few words, along the lines of:

“How could you do this to us?”

As he was laying curled up in a ball on the couch, face plastered up, ice bag on his knee, wrapped up in a blanket, you realized. this was your que to cry.

So, you did. You cried in silence, sitting across the room from him. You weren’t mad at him for coming home late, or getting in another fight, probably the 5th just these past months, you had gotten used to that by now.

There was a whole other reason that made you cry.

He smelled like Victorias Secret Bombshell, you recognized the scent because it used to be your favorite,  however, now you’ve moved onto something less sweet, and more elegant, like Caroline Herrera.

He smelled like someone who wasn’t you, his girlfriend.

He smelled like another girl.

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe because the Jungkook that had come home to you that morning wasn’t your Jungkook.

Your Jungkook was varsity jackets, star of the american football team (which your school was known for), selfless and humorous, and he would always take care of you.

Your Jungkook was not ungroomed hair, cigarettes and worsening grades. He was not cold and lifeless, and he would never make you cry.

Despite this, you were carding your fingers though his hair, thumb wiping away the blood on his lips while he was sound asleep as you slowly fell asleep next to him.

Maybe it was time to let him go. 

Maybe.

You woke a few hours later from your phone vibrating.

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:01 pm]

Hey Y/N! Have you started working on the statistics assignment?

If you haven’t, would you be interested in meeting at the library tomorrow? You’re really smart and i’m kinda struggling ://

You [07:03 pm]

i finished it yesterday, but if you buy me coffee i’ll come help you hehe

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:04 pm]

You’re the best, I’ll bring you a machiatto!! :D

Maybe it would be nice for you to get out of the house, even though you hate the thought of it, and you would much rather just swim in your own sorrow.

But you did go out the next day, and you helped Namjoon get a decent grade, enough to pass with good margines, he thanked you by taking you out for ramen at a convenial store not too far away.

You thanked him for the ramen with a trip to the museum, and he thanked you for the museum trip with a picnic in the park at night, which led you to crying over Jungkook in his embrace, telling him every single little detail.

He made you realize it was time to let Jungkook go and make room for new people to enter your life.

You went home that night, and you found Jungkook passed out on the couch, and you could genuienly feel your chest tighten. Soft features which stood out under the moonlight glow, disheveled brown locks which hung down in his eyes.

He was gorgeous, until you saw the credit card on the table next to three bottles of soju and an empty beer can on the floor. And you knew what he had used the credit card for, though you didn’t want to say it out loud.

You cleaned everything up, and you threw the residue of the white powder right in the trash can, and you recycled his bottles and cans before finally, nudging him to wake up.

“Jungkook, wake up.” You spat coldly, or at least you attempted to.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening his eyes, and s huge smile on his face. “Y/N, you’re home!” He reached to kiss you, but you backed away.

“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned, he didn’t quite understand what your intentions were.

“Don’t try anything Jungkook. This was your last chance, and you fucked it up, again.” The room turned ice cold. “I’m getting you help Jungkook, you need help. And then...”

He understood what kind of help you meant, and since he had now sobered up, he agreed, nodding. “And then...?” 

“And then.” Your words were ludged in your throat. “And then I’m leaving you.”

His whole face dropped, smile turned into the frowniest frown you had ever seen, and it was all silent before his lower lip starts trembling, and his eyes start turning glassy.

“It’s alright. Sorry for burdening you.” Was all he could say before tears rushed down his cheeks, and he started shaking.

So you did what you always had done, and you wrapped your arms around him, head resting on your chest as he sobbed.

“Is there anyone else?” he cried out before another wave of sobs hit him.

This exact question made your stomach hurt, and your throat burn. You really had no idea.

Or you did, but you didn’t want to.

You loved Jungkook so much, but you couldn’t be with him in this state. So you did what every rational person would do in this situation.

“Yeah.”

You lied.

“Oh ok. I don’t have the right to be mad do I?”

You shake your head no.

“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry I’m so messed up.”

“It’s ok.” was all he said before he fell asleep in your arms again.

That night you slither your way out of his embrace and you pack your suitcase in the dark, bringing all your essentials, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake Jungkook.

Packing enough for two weeks or so, you make the bed and leave your t-shirt “accidentally” in the bathroom, and you make sure all his clothes are folded, and then you sort his pencil case, throwing out old pens and worn out erasers.

You leave a grocery list on the counter, and you tuck him in good under the blankets after you took his jeans and socks off so he could sleep comfortably.

You placed his vitamins and medicine by the refrigerator so he’ll see it when he goes to grab something to eat. 

Puffed up pillows, a pair of sweatpants, t-shirt and underwear is now placed neatly on his bed. Then you walk into the kitchen again, and you see Jungkook still sound asleep, sniffling a little still.

There’s one last thing, and it makes you cry. It makes you sob so loud you cover your mouth and muffle the sound you make. Sinking to the floor, your whole body is in contact with the cold tiles.

Only a year ago you could never imagine yourself even shedding a single tear over something as small as this, but here you were, on the edge of a panic attack.

Two worn out, matching couple mugs still placed by the counter. one if the first things you two had bought together, as well as the necklace hanging around your neck.

Finally, you stopped crying and started cleaning the mugs, lip trembling as you dried them and placed them in the back of the cabinet.

You unhooked your necklace and laid it down on the counter, and the biggest lump formed in your throat.

Actually, there’s a little detail you forget. 

You kiss Jungkook on the forehead and leave a note on the coffee table.

“Dear Jungkook,

If you want to make this up to me (this does not mean a new chance!!) you call the number at the bottom of the page. No matter what happens, I’ll always have room for you in my heart. You even have your own little VIP lobby in there. And - if it’s urgent, call. I still care for you, and I always have. You were the best boyfriend I’ve had, but good things always come to and end, don’t they? Anyways, I’m tired so this letter fucking sucks, but deep down you know how much I love you. Remember to get groceries, shower, get fresh air and study. If I forgot something you can keep it, as long as you call the number and tell them you’re my friend. They’ll help you love. Try and get a part time job too, your student loan and your dad’s money won’t last forever. Good luck Koo. Hwaiting!!

-L/N Y/N <33″

You cringe when you think of the letter’s contents, before you roll out your suitcase out of the front door, whispering a faint “Goodnight Love.” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Standing by the elevator, you cry again. This time, louder, but you still reach for your phone and type out a text to the newly edited contact in your phone.

You [02:13 am]

coming outside now, im a crying mess and im super cold, is your car heated?

sorry for making you wait btw :((

Joonie <3 [02:13 am]

dont worry about the crying part, i’ll hold you. and yeah car is heated, so waiting here wasnt all that bad. you ready for this?

You  [02:14 am]

i have no idea but i cant stay here any longer and i trust you sooo

lets start our new chapter. eh?

4 months later...

He had been good to you, great even.

You had been on expensive dates, picnics, had heart to heart conversations, and he’d been so understanding.

Today, it was your 2 month anniversary, and he had asked you on a magnificent date, which he had planned every second of.

At the end of the day, you told him how you don’t love him. He said it was alright. Namjoon loved you, so much, yet he understood you needed time.

You went to sleep that day, warm in Namjoon’s embrace, wondering how Jungkook was doing. 

You felt bad, but you missed Jungkook.

You were both with someone new now, and you knew he was in good hands with someone stable enough to care for him.

Before your eyes closed shut, you shed a few quiet tears and hoped that you’d fall in love with Namjoon soon, and deep down you knew you would.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part 13

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem! Reader Warnings: Talk of parent death Length: 2.1k words Notes: Okay bitches here we go. I’ve got 3 kids doing online schooling, a desk chair that just broke while I was halfway through typing this out, a raging headache, and couldn’t be fucked to edit. I love you al, thank you for sticking with me and this little brain baby of mine. My guidance counselor from high school can suck my dick, “You’re not a creative writer, Cher, you should considering taking Home Ec as an elective instead” I digress....

Series Masterlist

"No." You glared at him and squeezed his hand harder, "You're doing that thing again.

Frankie's head whipped over to stare at you, shocked by your assertive tone.

"You're pulling away. You're stressed, out of your depth, don't know how to deal with it and so you're pulling away again-"

"You don't understand," Frankie interrupted you, shaking his head and trying to pull his hands out of your grasp. This only served to strengthen your resolve, and your grip on him.

"No." You declare again, trying to stay calm and have a mature conversation despite the tension and running emotions. "You told me to give you time to get your thoughts straight and vocalized. I can't do that if I'm not here to hear them. I can't understand your predicament if I leave. So," You moved so you're sitting cross-legged in front of him, making eye contact in an effort to show him he had your full attention. "Why don't you tell me what that phone call was about so we can start figuring it out, together."

The situation was more complex than you ever could have imagined. Frankie's ex-wife, Karla, had died. Her car had been hit by a drunk driver. Annie, thank the gods, hadn't been in the car at the time. Before she'd died at the hospital, Karla had managed to say a few words to the paramedics. At the time they didn't make sense, however, the paramedic had taken the time to write the words down and included the scrap of paper with the patient's chart. This evidence, as it turned out, had been monumental during the resulting legal battle for Annie, all of which took place without Frankie even being notified.

Child services, lawyers, extended family, and even doctors had been involved in the court proceedings. All arguing over the future of the six-year-old girl. All believing that they knew what was best for her, most believing that she should live with them, some having the gall to pretend that they weren't aware of the sizable life insurance payout she was about to receive.

Eight words. Eight simple, beautiful words whispered through the broken, bloody lips of a woman who knew she was about to die. A young girl's future was being held in suspense, and as fate would have it, a wise and sentimental judge was overseeing her case. Eight words were all it took to convince him that Annie's mother knew what was best for her own child.

"Francisco Morales. Trust with her, he's ready now."

From the time Frankie had received the phone call from Karla's family lawyer, the two of you had two days to prepare for Annie's arrival. Frankie worked his magic and erected a wall across the bedroom portion of his loft, allowing for the little girl to have some privacy but not feel like she was being closed in. 

He had fretted for a least twenty five minutes over colour swatches at Hank’s Hardware before coming to the conclusion that he should leave it white and have Annie chose her room colours once she had settled in. He bought himself a new couch, as well, that would convert into a bed and serve as his bedroom for the time being.

The conversation you never had a chance to have with him was still in the back of your mind, but you understood that moving in together as a couple was hard enough. Moving in together with a kid neither of you knew, whose life had just been turned upside down against her will, would be catastrophic. Instead, you focused on being as much of a rock for Frankie as you could.

You made a trip to the city and bought girls bedding, some stuffed animals, and a few little decorations to help Annie feel like the new space was special for her. You also thought to pick up comfort food that a kid might crave, knowing that when you were six the best way to your heart was chocolate. Just before you left the city, a sign caught your attention and had you swerving to change lanes, normally you'd feel slightly bad about your obnoxious driving but today you just waved your middle finger at the rear window in a mock salute.

The flower shop had so many bouquets and you had no idea what kind of flowers the little girl might like. You also had the morbid realization that bouquets might remind her of all the flowers she surely saw at Karla's funeral. Just as you began to second guess yourself, a stand near the back caught your eye and made you smile.

The day of her arrival came quicker than you felt prepared for, never mind how Frankie must be feeling. He hadn't had too much time to worry about how having his daughter would change his life, but once the two of you were standing in his driveway doing nothing but waiting, the nerves had finally settled in. You could see deep, calming breaths he was taking as they condensed into little clouds in the freezing air.

Grabbing his clenched fist, you felt his fingers relax enough to allow your gloved ones to slide through them.

"It's going to be weird for everyone, she's probably nervous too." You weren't sure if the words were reassuring or not but nervous talking seemed to be your forte so you ran with it. "I mean, she's probably sad that she's leaving everything and everyone she's always known, excited about moving to a new place, then feeling bad that she's feeling another emotion besides grief. It can be hard to juggle loss and hope. Just show her how much you love her and be honest about why you couldn't be with her before. Kids are smart and are aware of way more than adults give them credit for."

A few moments later a black sedan slowly crept up the driveway. You wanted to stay, to meet the little girl but had the feeling that Annie and Frankie were going to need time to figure out their relationship without another person in the mix. Suddenly having a new parent was going to be hard enough on the little girl, you were afraid that she might see you as trying to replace her mom and push you away.

Rubbing Frankie's back for one last show of reassurance, you kissed his shoulder then took a few steps back. You figured this was the best way to be there to support him but also staying in the background for the time being. Before the car could fully come to a stop, the rear door was flying open and, in a blur of movement, a little body was flying out of it towards Frankie. You know how people will say that there are times in their lives where important moments fly by so fast they barely have time to enjoy them? Well, this wasn't one of them.

As Annie barreled her way towards Frankie, you saw in slow motion how his handsome face went from being creased with worry, to eyebrow raised shock, to breaking out in a teary smile. He had just begun to crouch down and open his arms in anticipation of holding his little girl when instead she ran right past him and locked herself in one of the sheds.

Time continued to move in slow motion, making it all the more heartbreaking watching your boyfriend's face crumple, the tears of joy turn to tears of pain as he recovered from his initial excitement and realized that his child didn't want to see him.

Tiny, muffled sobs broke the moment and brought time, and the horrible situation, back into focus. The Child Protective Services worker who had accompanied Annie from California was calling apologies to Frankie while running after the little girl, trying not to slip in the snow in her hurry.

You wanted to go to him, to lend him some form of comfort, but you were also aware that some types of grief don't appreciate witnesses. Deciding to stick around and be helpful in the background, you made your way into the loft and started making coffee and sandwiches, foreseeing a longer stay for the caseworker than initially thought.

Nearly forty minutes had passed before you emerged again with food and drinks on a tray and the two adults were still talking to Annie through the cracks in the door. She had stubbornly refused to come out, demanding that she be returned to her home at once and that she hated snow.

Once you had set down the tray and cleared the snow off a picnic table, Frankie thanked you with a kiss to your temple and introduced you to Sharon after he convinced her to take a break from the negotiations. Sharon, who had been with Annie since the day of the accident, began filling Frankie in on what had happened to his daughter in the past month between sips of coffee. He was given a folder with notes from child psychologists, doctors, a letter from her maternal grandparents, and a journal Sharon had kept that described the ways Annie had been processing her grief.

While they talked, you decided to walk over and sit next to the door of the shed, laying a wool blanket down to protect your butt from the cold. You had no idea what to say to the girl but you figured she might like to be reassured she wasn't alone. Settling down, you dug into your own sandwich and hummed quietly to yourself.

You nearly choked on your next bite when you heard a soft voice singing along with the tune you'd chosen.

"Lavender blue, dilly dilly. Rosemary Green, if you are king dilly dilly, I'll be your queen."

After you'd repeated the song twice more, you stopped the tune and said softly,

"I've never heard those lyrics before, they're different from how I learned them."

A long pause followed, making you worry that you'd offended the child back into silence.

"How do you sing it?" Came the sweetest little voice, made all the more adorable with the barest hint of a lisp.

"We always sang, 'Lavender green', for one. Which never made any sense to me so I really like how you did it-"

"Yeah, cause lavender is another name for purple," she interrupted you with a matter-of-fact tone, "saying it's green is just weird!"

"Hmmm, it might be different," you conceded, seeing the opportunity for a lesson. "But either way you sing it, it's still a really pretty song, isn't it? Things can be different but it doesn't mean one is only good and one is only bad. Each version just had different good things."

Annie went silent again but this time you didn't worry about it, you knew she was thinking about what you said and needed time to apply it to what was happening right now. You eventually heard the shifting of metal and the creak of wood and had to will yourself to sit still and calm. The way you had let her approach you had worked so far, jumping up out of excitement could possibly erase all the progress you'd made so far.

Your patience was rewarded when Annie stepped out of the shed and lowered herself so that she was sitting on the blanket right next to you. Turning your head just enough to see her in your peripheral, you noticed how dull her eyes looked. Her hair was a mess and her skin looked pale for a kid who had been living under California's sun.

"My mommy is dead."

The way it was stated as a fact, with very little emotion, broke your heart. She was so little, so young, and so unable to fully grasp what kind of future had been ripped away from her.

"I know, I'm sorry that that happened to your mom."

"That man is my daddy." She was pointing at Frankie now, who was still engrossed in his conversation with Sharon.

"He's a pretty lucky guy to have you."

"That's the lady who has been taking care of me, she's been nice."

You were a bit out of your comfort zone with the conversation but there was no way in hell you were going drop it so you cautiously trudged on. Maybe verbalizing relationships and titles was helping her process?

"I'm very happy to hear that you've been staying with someone nice. Your dad is a really nice person, too, ya know? You should see the nice bedroom he's set up for you! I even helped him bake you an apple pie. Do you like apples? Or pie?" Her eyes went wide and a spark of happiness suddenly lit her face, making her appear more childlike than before.

"Is this an apple farm?" She practically squealed. “Like in My Little Pony?!”

Her outburst had finally drawn the attention of the other two adults, who were now only realizing that Annie had exited the shed. Frankie's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his two girls, beaming at each other. The twinge of jealousy from knowing that it had been you to draw her out was quickly squashed by how proud of you he was. He had been a little worried, although he hadn't voiced it, that his kid wouldn't take kindly to having a woman around but those fears were obviously for naught.

Part Fourteen 

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Spencer Reid x Reader

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.”                  

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.”                       

PART ONE HERE

A/N: It came out fast!!! I had lowk already started it, so that’s why this update came so quickly. Please don’t expect them all to come this fast LMAO. I usually write slow as fuck. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this part so I can maybe just maybe turn this into a mini series. Please lmk if you guys like :) 

CONTENT WARNINGS: KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, LANGUAGE, MENTIONS OF SEX (lmk if i missed any please) 

I paced the bullpen as the team spoke to Penelope. The shock of her pregnancy was starting to wear off, and now I could think more clearly. How could she? What was she thinking? 

Recently, I’d found myself thinking about it more, a baby her and a mini-me. A family of my own, with the love of my life. It was exciting and like a lovesick fool it made my stomach fuzzy. But she wasn’t ready and I couldn’t do that to her. So how could she do it to herself? She hadn’t finished school, hadn’t started her career. She could barely take care of herself! I wasn’t mad, absolutely not. Just disappointed at her self-sabotage and the fact she’d made the decision completely without me. I couldn’t think about it for long though, because I was swiftly reminded by my surroundings that right now, there was a chance I’d lose her, our child and any children we wanted to have in the future. That was the priority. 

“Garcia, check her credit card records, we need to see where she last was.” Hotch said. 

“Uhm, okay,” Penelope took a deep breath while clicking away, “Let’s see. Her last purchase was last night, 6:49 at a CVS Pharmacy, oh--” 

“What Garcia?” Hotch asked. 

“She was um, picking up her monthly case of birth control.” 

JJ broke the silence, “Spence…” she started towards me. 

I breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank god.” 

“Thank god?” Morgan questioned. 

“She’s 23.” I wiped my face, “Whole life ahead of her.” The team understood what I was trying to say. Rossi’s hand fell on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. 

“So why would she tell Brook she was?” Garcia asked. 

“I uh, I..I don’t know.” I spat out. I really had no idea.  

“Think Reid.” Rossi told me. “You guys ever talk about kids or pregnancy?”

“She might be trying to send us a message,” Emily added. 

I thought back to the last time we discussed starting a family. 

--FLASHBACK-- 

We were surrounded by timeless pieces of art and history, and yet the true masterpiece was still her. She was always beautiful to me, a perfect being, truly. But today, something about the way she looked today specifically, made her look like the kind of beauty you see in a painting. Had she been a painting, her creator must have been skilled. Each stroke of his brush creating every divine curve of her face and body to produce a work of magnificent art, one that I so proudly hung on the walls of my heart. 

I remember exactly what she wore, and how it felt to take it all off. The painter had an eye for color. Her denim skirt, the length or lack thereof making me embarrassingly wary, was blue like the Mediterranean Sea, complementing the pigment of the skin of her legs. A white button down made of silk, not worn properly, of course. Too many buttons were left open at the top, as to draw attention to the gold adorned on her chest, but in the spell of temptation she procured to cast upon me, my eyes wandered to admire territories of her body they shouldn’t have. Not in public, at least. The buttons at the bottom were left untouched as well, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. She looked like an angel, but of course, went out of her way to instead be my temptress.

My affinity for her beauty aside, the wide eyes in delight at the museum artifacts and careful attention to my commentary were what made our excursion wonderful. The feeling of her smaller hand in mine, and the giggles and the teasing “You’re way too nerdy to be so stupid hot Dr. Reid.” made it absolutely perfect. 

In exchange for her listening so attentively to my historical facts and stories, I took her for ice cream. She insisted we ate it on the greens of Lincoln Park. Who was I to deny her that? What came next--I expected. She’d devoured it. Made a mess of strawberry ice cream on her white shirt. 

“It was the wind!” She insisted as the first of many drips of ice cream fell down her chin. 

“No it was not!” I argued back while wiping it, “You just never learned how to eat ice cream properly.” I gently removed the cone from her hands and into mine, taking an overzealous bite. “This, lovey, is how you eat ice cream.” 

“Give it back, you...you dickass!” She snorted. We laughed like two lovesick teenagers. 

“Dickass?” I asked, eyes watery from laughter. 

“Yeah dickass, give me back my damn ice cream.” I took another bite, “Stop! You’re eating it all!” She pouted. Pouts were unfortunately my weakness and I handed it back to her. However, in her rush, the pink scoop had fallen directly on her blouse. 

“Way to prove my point,” I started to take off my cardigan, “You want dickass’s sweater?” 

She wanted to be mad but couldn’t contain the wince of a smile. “Please.” 

We carefully removed her shirt from under while simultaneously putting the cardigan in its place. 

“Spence don’t let me flash! There’s kids and judgmental old ladies here!” 

I laughed and shushed her, “I know, I know.” I moved all the fabrics quickly and it was done. Her sticky pink shirt was replaced with my soft sweater. “There.” 

“My hero,” She kissed me, “Truly.”

She leaned back on our picnic blanket on her shoulders as we observed our fellow park goers. “So many kids.”  

I nodded my head in agreement. “Yeah…” 

“We should bring our kids here one day.” she said, instantly breaking my haze from the crowd so I could only see her. 

I smiled again at the thought, “Yeah, and tell them how their mom is the world's clumsiest ice cream eater.”

She looked at me with disdain before shoving her shoulder into mine. “Shut up.” 

“Can you imagine it?” I started, “A little girl who looks just like you? I’d be in so much trouble.” 

She giggled, “Absolutely whipped.” 

I toppled her so we were laying down, facing each other. She kissed me hard, and my hands went to the sides of her face, only pulling back to say “I can’t wait for it, you know. My two little girls.” 

She smiled, “But I’ll always be your favorite right?” she asked sarcastically. 

I laughed, “Oh of course. Always.” 

“I’ll have a big ol’ belly, you know.” I nodded, “You’d still be perfect.” 

“We’d have to go to the mall, buy me a shitload of new clothes. Do ya know how dirty malls are Spence?” I winced at the thought of thousands of strangers bacteria on every surface and she laughed, “Got ya.” I shook my head, “Nope! I uh, I’ll just bring hand sanitizers and uh, to the Maternity section we’ll go.” 

“Non-stop Panda express eating.” I nodded again, “I’ll be non-stop Panda Express buying, then.” She smiled so hard her nose scrunched. 

“I love you Spencer.” 

“I love you too. I am so in love with you.” 

--FLASHBACK ENDS--

“Yeah but it was trivial.” I said. 

“Maybe not,” Hotch argued, “Was anything mentioned specifically?” 

“A name she liked?” Prentiss added, “Maybe a craving she thought she might have? Anything at all?” 

I nodded, “Not a food, but a fast food place. Panda Express.” I doubted that would be helpful. 

“It’s a stretch but, Garcia, check for any dilapidated buildings within 10 miles of a Panda Express.” 

“Yes sir,” She typed away and then said, “No, guys. I’m sorry. All of our Panda Express’s are in pristine malls or new developments.” 

“Mall!” I shouted, “She said we’d have to go to the mall! She knows I hate the mall.” 

Morgan pointed at us, “The tiles in that room look like they could be from some 80’s Bloomingdales.” 

“Garcia-” I said. 

“Already on it.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pregnancy ruse was either going to get me killed, or save my life. It was a moment of panic and I just wanted to throw her off. I know it did, but in what direction? 

She was still crying, her demeanor with me was still laced with bitter animosity, but she was calmer now. 

“How long have you known?” Brook asked, the contents of her flask now empty and her words slurred. 

“I found out yesterday.” I lied through my teeth. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “Had you guys talked about it?” 

“Vaguely.” I admitted. 

“What’d Spencer want? Boy or girl?” I debated on whether or not to say, and she caught on. “Don’t fucking lie.” She stated harshly. 

“Girl.” I breathed out. “He wants a girl.” 

“What do you want?” she asked. 

“I don’t care.” I said. That was true. 

“How come?” 

“I just want to start a family with him. Don’t really care about the gender…” That was true as well. 

“Oh.” she nodded her head, “Why’d he want a girl?” It was strange, her  genuine curiosity. It freaked me out, but my alternative was being stabbed. I chose to just answer her questions, regardless of how much I really did not want to.  

“He liked the idea of a little girl who looked like me.” 

She winced, eyes tearing up further. “Right.” I was beginning to realize her feelings were very real. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t have but I couldn’t help it. My head was still looking for an answer as to how she could be driven to do something like this. 

She clasped her hands together, her anger returning.  “Don’t fucking start. You know nothing of what I feel for Spencer.” She came up closer and tugged at my hair, “Fucking nothing.” 

“Okay,” I grimaced at the pain from the force at which she pulled my hair, “I-I’m sorry.” 

She let go, “You should be. You really, really fucking should be.” She sat back down, pensive for a while. I wish I knew what she was thinking about. 

My heart had not stopped it’s fast pace ridden with anxiety since I gained full awareness of my situation, but now, it felt like it was going to burst through my chest. Was she planning on just killing me now? 

My anticipation ceased when she got up and brought back the camera with her again. “Hello BAU. There has been a change in plans. Your beloved,” The words reeked of sarcasm, “Y/N here, will be returned eventually. . She’s gonna be fine. However, it is now in everybody best interest if this video feed was cut out. Sorry.” She said before mouthing, “No I’m not.” She shut the camera off. 

She turned to me, “I hate you. Fucking despise you.” Figures. 

“But I would never hurt Spencer. Or his child. Even if it is being carried by a whore like you.” 

She began to pace once more, “You’re obviously a mistake on his part. You clearly tricked him with sex and...no just sex I think. You're not really smart enough to be capable of anything else. Regardless, he’s probably already thinking about abortions or adoption. There’s no way in hell a man like him could ever want to start a family with a girl like you.” She shook her head, “Absolutely not.” 

I could only nod my head at her delusions. This woman was so far up her ass. 

She pinched my cheeks together with her cold hands, “You tried to trap him. How’d that go for you?” 

I was silent.

“I asked you a fucking question!” She held my face impossibly tighter. 

“Poorly.” I got out, “Poorly.” 

“In 9 months, I’ll help you deliver your baby. And then, you can go.” Brook backed away and let go of her tight grip on my face. “I’m keeping the kid. Raising it.” She smiled, “I’ll be the mother Spencer’s child will deserve. And then-” A giggle creepily reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s left her throat, “He’ll love me!” 

Brooks intention had twisted from wanting to murder and torture me as revenge for “taking” Spencer, to a now twisted maternal desire for his (hypothetical) child. But if Spencer and his team couldn’t find me before the time I was supposed to be showing, I was fucked. Utterly fucked. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Taglist: @britishspidey

(Let me know to be added)

[escapewriter]

Light of My Life

pairing : minghao x reader

synopsis : what’s better than celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday rapunzel style?

genre : whole lotta fluff and a bit of humor

word count : 2k

warnings : slight mentions of murder but its a joke

a/n : for minghao’s birthday😌 it isnt a lot like how i wanted but it does justice lol. also, lets pretend they weren’t by the ocean lol

svt written masterlist || main masterlist

You sat in your apartment opening the box you received from the mail today. Jun had helped you plan this date for Minghao for his birthday and this item would complete the whole date. You pulled out the lanterns that were in a plastic bag and scanned them. 

“Perfect,” You place them carefully in the picnic basket, finally set for your date with Minghao tomorrow. You heard your phone buzz on the table.

Minghao : hi yn, what you up to?

You smiled at his text, grateful that he took the time to text you even with his busy schedule 

You : i am currently preparing for our date tomorrow :D

Minghao : ooo how exciting. can i know what you have planned??

You : you should know the answer to that question 

Minghao rolled his eyes as he stared at his screen. Of course you would turn the tables on him, he always made your dates a surprise. 

Minghao : no fair :(

You : how is this not fair??

Minghao : cuz i want to know lol. 

You contemplated but stood your ground; you can’t tell him. 

You : guess you just have to find out tomorrow. 

Minghao sighed, giving up on attempting to find out what you have planned. 

Minghao : fine. but don’t think ill tell you what i have planned for your birthday. 

You : yeah yeah i know. dont you still have practice?

He looked at the clock in the practice room and then to some of his members who were sitting on the floor or standing. 

Minghao : yeah i should probably get going. its late too, you should sleep. 

You : i will dont worry. stay safe and dont push yourself. 

Minghao : i wont. goodnight my love, i love you.

You : i love you too. 

You locked your phone and took the basket, placing it on the kitchen counter. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day. 

~

You placed the basket with all the supplies you needed in the trunk of your car, deciding to make it a surprise. Taking the other basket that you prepared this morning with various types of food, you put it in the backseat behind the drivers side. Getting in, you started the car and headed to Minghao’s dorm. 

You tapped the wheel in excitement, you finally get to have some part of the day with Minghao before his birthday. It was November 6th, so it wasn’t exactly his birthday, but you did get to have him until midnight and that’s all that counts. And it made your plan perfect. 

You got to the parking garage and texted your boyfriend that you were downstairs waiting. After 5 minutes, you see the elevator open and Minghao step out, looking as handsome as ever. 

He approached the car and got into the passenger seat, giving you a quick kiss. “Hi,” he smiled at you, “Hi,” you smiled back. You began to pull out of the building, picking up a small conversation with each other.

“How was the drive?” You turned down the radio, “Same as usual, smooth, nothing wrong, I was safe.” He smiled, happy that you had a decent ride, “That’s good. So, where are we going?”

You took your eyes off the road to look at him for a split second before focusing back on the road. A grin creeped onto your face, “You’ll find out soon Hao. Be patient, you’ll love it.”

“No, I know I’ll love it, I just have to let my manager know because of protocol,” You sighed, “Is that really the reason?” He looked outside the window, playing with his rings, “Half of it, they told me to have fun.” 

You smiled and turned up the radio, “Shut up and enjoy the ride baby. Trust, you’ll enjoy it more.”

~

“This is nice,” Minghao sighed beside you on the picnic blanket. “Yeah it is.”

All the food in the basket was empty, mainly Minghao devouring most of it. “So, what are we gonna do now?” You looked at the time on your phone. Sun sets at 6:45 and it’s 3:50. You have three hours for what you have planned so it should be enough. 

“I’ll be right back, I have to get something.” You got up quickly and retrieved the extra basket that was in the trunk. You returned to Minghao, “Ta da!” 

“More food??” You laughed and sat down in your place, “No, an activity. Jun actually helped me with the idea.” You opened up the basket, taking out of the things you packed inside, “What is this YN?” He picked up one of the lanterns. 

“It’s a lantern. I packed all these art supplies so we could decorate them and light them up and release them. Originally, I wanted to do it at midnight because that’s when your actual birthday is, but the timing wasn’t right, and plus it’s dangerous during nighttime.” 

He looked at you with his mouth agape, “That’s so,,, thoughtful. I can’t believe you came up with this.” 

“Actually Jun-” “-let’s just give you the credit for now.” You smiled at him as he leaned over and kissed you on the lips. You held his face in place as his right hand was planted in between the two of you so he wouldn’t lose balance. Pulling away, you smiled at each other, “Happy Birthday my love.” 

“Thank you, I love you so much. Now! Let's get to painting!”

~

“My lantern looks like crap oh my god,” you looked at the blue blob on your cylinder object. “I’m sure it looks fine YN, just keep going.” You put down the paint brush and looked at your boyfriend. 

He’s been in ‘The8’ mode ever since you two started painting. He didn’t want you to see what he was making, so it became a rule that when you both finish, that’s when you present your pieces to each other. 

“I don’t know why you’re not letting me see yours, it’s not like I haven’t seen you paint before.” You continued to try and make your blob look presentable by drawing a happy face, “You know, when you took me out here in like the middle of nowhere, I thought you would’ve killed me, broken up with me and left me here to starve, or go cloud watching.”

You looked at him with a weird face, “Well for one thing, there are no clouds today. And two, I wouldn’t have let you starve, that’s too painful.” You finally looked up at you, “So you would’ve killed me?” 

You purse your lips, “Would you rather starve to death?” He rolled his eyes and looked back down at his artwork. 

“I get that Jun helped you with this, but like, how did the idea come about?” You painted mindlessly while pondering on an answer, “Well I thought of you and what you would like, even if you said anything. But I just thought about what you meant to me, like how lanterns are bright when you light them up, and when you release them, they float. It’s a really bad metaphor, but you’re like my lantern. You’re the light of my life and every time I’m with you, I’m always on cloud nine. Plus it fits with your culture.”

He was looking at you when you tried to sneak a peek at his lantern. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just see you try to look at my lantern. But besides the point, that was really cheesy, but I love you.” You smiled and put down the brush. 

“Well, I’m done with mine.” You looked at him, seeing him also set down his brush, “Me too. Do we let it dry and assemble it?” You contemplated on your answer for a bit, “Uhh, I could probably assemble mine because it looks like trash anyway, but if you like yours, let it dry a little and then assemble it.” 

~

Minghao just finished assembling his lantern after it dried for a bit. It was currently 6:50, the sky was just turning into various shades of orange, pink and purple. “Okay, wanna see mine now?” You looked at your boyfriend and he held his lantern behind his back, “Show me.”

He brought it in front of him and lifted it up, slowly turning it to see the details that he drew on. “Wow, it looks beautiful, I can’t really see it.”

He brought it back down and signaled for you to scoot closer, “This here, is the bouquet of your favorite flower that I got you for Valentines Day,” You smiled as he turned it a little to move to the next picture, “This is the tree that we sat by on one of our dates. The one where a bird pooped on you,” You laughed and slightly hit his shoulder, “I can’t believe you put that there.”

“How could I not? It was an amazing memory. Anyway, this is a drawing of our matching bracelets, I didn’t want to paint it because I thought it would ruin it, so it’s a bit plain.” You shook your head, “No it’s beautiful.” He turned it to the final piece.

“This is a picture of us, or a silhouette of us. We’re watching the lanterns fly up into the beautiful sky together.” You felt a tear drop fall from your eye, “Aw crap what the fuck? Why am I crying?” You giggled and quickly tried wiping away the tears with your hands as Minghao laughed beside you. 

He put down his lantern and pulled you in closer to him, “Why are you crying though, baby?” You sniffed, “Because this is a celebration for you, and I feel like I should’ve painted something beautiful for you.” You kissed your forehead softly, “I don’t care what you paint baby, as long as I’m here with you, it doesn’t matter.”

“I kinda don’t want to release that one, it’s too beautiful.” He looked at you with a pout, “but I painted the future.” 

You laughed, checking your phone, “Okay fine. It’s 7:10, we should light it up now.” 

You both got up, lanterns in your hands. Grabbing a lighter, you lit yours and then Minghao’s, “Ready YN?” You held the hand that he held out, “I feel like I’m in high school musical,” he laughed, squeezing your hand, “Keep it PG, we do not makeout in public.”

“Okay,” You rolled your eyes with a smile, “On the count of three.” You both gazed into each other’s eyes, “1. 2. 3.” 

You both let go of the lanterns and saw them slowly float into the sun-kissed sky. You felt Minghao release your hand before hearing jazz music begin to play and feeling his arms wrap around your waist, swaying softly to the music. 

“Of course jazz music.” You heard him chuckle behind you, “Well, you can’t blame me, it’s a perfect time for it.” You smiled and leaned more into his embrace.

“Did you like the date?” He hummed in response, his chin on your shoulder, “It was perfect. I loved it a lot, thank you for making this special for me.” 

“Of course. It’s, well almost your big day after all.” You turned around, placing your hands on his shoulders and his on your waist. “Happy Birthday my love,” He smiled at you, heart filled with love and happiness as he looked into your eyes more. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your lips, taking your breath away. You would never get tired of this feeling. 

Pulling away, you smiled at each other before he looked up, “We should take a picture.” He took out his phone from his pocket, pausing the music and switching on the camera. He held it at a low angle to get the lanterns in the picture, but also getting the sunset in the background.

“Say cheese!” Instead of smiling at the camera, you placed your lips on his cheek, him capturing the moment perfectly. “You sly person,” you giggled and quickly pecked his lips. You grabbed his phone and resumed the jazz music. 

Hold out your hand, “I believe we were dancing earlier?” He gave you a smirk and took your hand into his before pulling you closer, the two of you watching the sunset and dancing slowly to the sound of jazz.

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home-Chapter 6

Warnings: Language. Fluff.

You dizzied barefoot around the torn apart suitcase in the floor of your hotel room. It seemed as you’d packed every essential for your time in Malibu, except the perfect ensemble for a date with Chris ‘full of surprises’ Evans. Were jeans to casual? Would heels be over the top? Did you need to wear matching undergarments….?

Assumption isn’t a good look, although maybe better than downright desperation.

Your body wanted him down to the very lowest layer of your flesh. It was needy, and maybe drastic. Careless even. But, your every thought was sickeningly consumed by the daydreams of you in his bed. Whether it be due to his righteous kindness, his charming wit, or those damn fitted t-shirts would be an eternal unsolved mystery. But, you knew he was well aware of his plethora of desirous traits, and more pathetically you were alright with the way he purposely highlighted them.

A: I need something to go on here, Evans. Where are you taking me?

You spritzed rosy perfume over the naked span of your body, and into the stretched line of your neck under your loosely fallen hair. You’d rather look impatient and ruin the surprise rather than dress inappropriately for the occasion, so you texted him.

C: Casual. No heels. Bring a sweater. And Amelia?

A: Chris?

C: Stop worrying.

C: See you in an hour. Smile, gorgeous. Today was a good day.

Your lips obeyed his command and you felt a lax smile creep onto your cheeks.

Choosing the most practical outfit in your suitcase, you pulled the thin straps of a loose, blue cotton dress up, it’s hem dragging to the middle of your thigh. It seemed your hair, once perfectly plain and straight from the earlier photo shoot, had disagreed with the humidity of the hot afternoon. Your blonde, swirling curls were raging at full attention, wild around your pink-stained cheeks.

The dip of its neckline sagged tastefully low, but enough to display your most confident feature. You truly never felt even the slightest bit comfortable in your own skin, which is why clothes sang to you. If your own skin wouldn’t do the job, you’d make it a hobby to find the most perfect piece of fabric to boost where you lacked in self-confidence.

Swiping a melon, lip-plumping balm over your mouth at the bathroom vanity, your phone buzzed.

Shithead: I’m in Boston on business. I’ve got the papers with me, so let’s meet around lunch tomorrow to discuss. You may bring a lawyer, but good luck paying for one.

So many replies that still wouldn’t do his most undesirable actions justice cluttered around your thoughts, but you composed yourself, prepping to defend his unacceptable demands as an adult. Sort of.

A: With your very prompt notice of one day, it seems I’m out of town until day after next. You can either wait, or leave them with my parents. I sincerely hope you choose the latter.

He read instantly your answer, and a reply was in hot pursuit.

Shithead: Out of town? Why?

A: Business. Mine, not yours.

Your thumbs patted against the screen, waiting for the awful reaction your vague explanation would undoubtably ensue, just as a knock patted on the locked door of your suit. Rather than let the sour taste of Ben ruin your evening furthermore, you shifted the off switch and marched towards the man waiting in the hall.

You picked up a small clutch on the way, but it fell to the floor, probably in slow motion like your jaw, when you answered his knock.

Instantly, you elected once back in your bed tonight, you would make yourself decide whether you liked suited, James Bond-like Chris, or this Chris more. The easy jeans, half-torn at the collar t-shirt, dirty sneakers Chris standing in your doorway, smiling behind midnight black sunglasses.

You could smell him with the wind of the opening door, and you hoped he got a warm dose of your scent, too, knowing what the sweet scent of a woman could do to the male species.

“I was going to call, but I thought I’d come up to get you instead. You know, manners and all.” He rolled his eyes, his shoulders danced in a nonchalant shrug.

“Manners are nice, yes. Manners are always good, right?” You wondered if he noticed how you seemed to always get a case of these weird hiccups when he was around.

“Sometimes I like a little impoliteness. It has its place on occasion, wouldn’t you say?” Chris greeted you with a kiss to the feverish curve of your cheekbone, his words humming into your ear not by accident.

You disregarded his already unfair advantage for the evening, and boldly counteracted.

“Oh, definitely. I couldn’t agree more! I may have thrown my manners out the window a time or two, and been downright bad mannered.”

Chris chuckled, and I watched him gulp down his Adams apple. He may have been better at hiding his attractions than you, but you noticed the little hitch in the pattern of his breaths.

You whipped of the switch of your light on that note, double checking your keycard for the room was tucked away in your wallet, and strolled next to him down the abnormally quite hall.

“I see the hair is back,” he commented, staring at the lit-up buttons on the wall of the elevator. “I like this Millie much better. Not that the other version isn’t…. well, it isn’t… you look beautiful. I’m trying to say that you look fucking beautiful, Amelia.”

The way his words stammered on his tongue like a confused drunk pleased you.

Nervous. You, make him, nervous.

“ I don’t think you need little old me telling you how handsome you are, Evans.”

The drop to each floor ticked by like an infinite second, and with every moment your pull the him itched stronger. He seemed to possess his own magnetic forcefield that your body’s every molecule responded to, which made the resistance inexplicably painful. Alone. Trapped in the silent solitude of the elevator, you locked stares. The icy glimmer in his eye played from dangerously calm, to shuddering sensuality when he looked at you. His emotions battling to behave, or otherwise. And, God, his smell. The divine smell of him alone made you think of sex.

When we dinged to the lobby, you gasped in relief at the fresh, open air as you stepped outside the elevator car, needing a momentary escape from his irresistible, palatable force. You felt in control of your senses for a moment, until Chris moved his veined hand to the exposed skin between the blades of your shoulders, close to your sweating nape.

“My car is out back waiting. This way.” He pulled.

The two of you escaped the treacherous clutches of the frenzied paps snapping photos, and tucked yourselves safely into the back seat of an SUV that seemed to follow him around. You buckled yourself into the seatbelt, squirming a bit with the strange feeling of unusual silence.

“Tess was raving about you after you left today. She was beyond impressed.” He caught your attention from gazing out the window at the swaying palm trees.

“I had an amazing day, Chris. That is exactly how I pictured my life when I started up the blog, and it came to pass, finally. All thanks to you.”

He groaned, but with a smile. “If you thank me one more time, I’m dropping you off on the side of the road. Its what friends do, Millie. Help each other.” He swallowed your hand into his. “And besides, seeing you so smiley the entire afternoon was well worth it.”

He pulled his lip between his teeth, as if he was the one suffering from his salacious thoughts. Your self-control, however much longer it may last, was admirably unwavering.

The car slowed, and somehow you managed to shake yourself back to some form of reality to make note of where you had ended up. Pulling into the emptying parking lot next to a sandy beach, Chris leaned to do the service of unbuckling your belt.

“Don’t touch that door.” He commanded as he dropped to the ground, leaving you alone in the second row of the vehicle.

Confused, you followed his jog around the car through the hazy tint of the black windows until he landed directly outside your door, where he pulled it open, offering you his hand.

The sun was still hanging droopily over the endless span of blue, fluffy caps of white waves rolling to the shore. You internally hoped whatever he had planned, you’d at least get to watch the orange-y glow of the sunset fall over the Malibu beach.

“Come with me. It’s just around those rocks there.” Chris tucked your hand into his palm, and you wished he had given you a moment to dry the nervy sweat between your fingers.  

The tepid wind whipped your dress to and fro, along with the wave of your hair as he guided you down the sandy hill of a rocky, secluded cove.

“I hope this is alright for a celebration? I wasn’t sure if you’d feel up to a big crowd after your busy day.  

The hinge of your jaw broke open, and a gasp fell from your lips. A blanket, what looked to be made of expensive chenille was laid into the sand, a basket holding it back from escaping with the gusts of welcomed ocean breeze. There were 2 fluted glasses turned upward onto the lid of the picnic basket, next to a chilling tin of some sort of bottle sealed with gold foil.

“You did all this? How did you manage to pull all of this together in what, 3 hours?!”

“I can’t take all the credit, no. As badly as I want to claim entire responsibility for the look on your face right this second.” Chris brushed back a curl of your hair away from your face, the tips of his fingers lingering heated at the corner of your mouth.

You turned into his touch, happily abandoning your better judgment. Hoping to see that mischievous, roused glaze paint over his eye, you barely popped your lips into the curve of a kiss to the pad of his finger. The stir of his usually sure demeanor crumbled, and you relished that it had been at your hand.

“Behave, Chris.” You heard him mistakenly whisper to himself. 

*If you’d like to be added, or removed to the tag-list, let me know*

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @eap1935 @littleluna98

[sheepydraws]

And So They Lived (2/6)

Part 1

On Monday Odd still had a bandage on his cheek. Not because the scabs hurt, but because he had made up an outlandish story about standing up too fast after retrieving his armful of junk food, losing his balance, and smashing his face on the side of the vending machine. It was better to have everyone laughing then asking questions. 

“Do you think someone hit her?” Yumi said when they saw Sissi that morning, stalking across the quad to the science building. She was wearing huge, tan sunglasses with gold tinted lenses. They were perfectly coordinated with her camelskin coat and light brown calf high boots, unlike the enormous bruise on her cheek. It was quite a sight, dark purple in the center, radiating outward into overlapping shades of green and yellow. She looked like she had fallen face first into a plate of moussaka and not bothered to wipe it off.

“If they had we’d have heard about it.” Aelita said, “She would have gone straight to her father and had them expelled.” 

Ulrich shrugged. “Maybe she leaned into the mirror to kiss herself and slipped.”

“Wouldn’t she have covered it up if she got it doing something stupid?” Jeremie said. “She’s been wearing makeup since the sixth grade.”

“Sixth?” Odd asked idly.

“I think so. Ulrich, when was the first time she got lipgloss on your face?”

Ulrich gave Jeremie a shove, and they laughed, remembering how sometimes Sissi would throw her arms around Ulrich and leave a shiny smear on his cheek, or mascara smudges on his temple. Of course, Sissi wouldn’t remember that since it was usually after he had saved her life. 

“Odd?” Yumi said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You okay?”

“I just don’t think we should kick a dog while it’s down.” 

There was laughter again, and Odd heard what he had said. He opened his mouth, flustered, wanting to correct them, but he decided not to. He had gotten the phrases mixed up. He wasn’t sure where his head was these days. He was thinking of ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’. Something he desperately needed to learn before he wound up at Sissi’s room again, holding a movie and candy.

Oops.

He knocked. 

“Who is it?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

Silence. 

Silence was good, Odd told himself, it meant she was thinking. 

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back and she appeared at the door. 

“Oh.” She said, looking at the gifts in his hands. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what kind of stuff you liked, so I just got these.” He held out the glass canister full of chocolate candies. They shined like pearls, or at least plastic beads. They were just fancy m&ms, but he had a feeling she might appreciate them. Also, going into town had given him an excuse to leave Yumi and Ulrich alone, so now they owed him a little. 

“I’ve had them before.” Sissi said as she took them. “They’re good.”

“And this.” He handed her the dvd case.

She studied it for a moment. “Eraserhead?”

“It’s a classic.”

“Kind of looks like a horror.”

“It’s more surrealist, really.” Odd was about to explain the work’s history, but her face was already screwed up. 

“Definitely a horror, then.”

“Only if you find unplanned pregnancy horrific.”

They stood there for a moment, listening to the deafening silence that comes after a terrible joke. Odd shifted from foot to foot. He had been expecting her to say something like ‘apology accepted’ so that he could leave and things could go back to normal between them. 

“You have to watch it with me.”

Odd’s train of thought came to a screeching halt. 

“And if it is a horror, then I get to punch you or something.”

Odd touched his cheek. “I think we’re already fair on that account.”

Sissi rattled the candies inside their glass box. “I said, ‘or something’. We’ll decide once I tell you that this is a horror movie.”

Once they were in her room Sissi took her laptop off her bed and set it on the floor, so that she could sit with her back against her bed. Odd looked around as she set up the movie. He had been in here a few times over the years, but he was usually snooping through her things or trying to save her from being murdered by her own curling iron, so he never really remembered the decor aside from the scent of a million different beauty products and an overwhelming sense of pink.

Odd had thought pink was something you grew out of, but Sissi stuck with it as stubbornly as her nickname. It wasn’t the monotone of a baby girl’s room, but almost everything had a pink accent. The handles on her desk, the trim of her dresser, the tassels on the drawstring of her blinds. Her comforter was a pale shade, her pillow cases hot, along with a few throw pillows ranging from red to almost orange. They could have sat on the bed instead of the floor, come to think of it, but then they’d be sitting on her bed together. Too weird.

As though voluntarily watching a movie with her wasn’t weird enough. 

Sissi hit play and muscled the lid off the candy. The smell of chocolate wafted towards them and Sissi smiled.

“You can have some if you want.” She said, holding them out to him.

“Thanks.” He took a few and popped them into his mouth. She watched him carefully. “They aren’t poisoned, y’know.” He said through his mouthful of chocolate.

“Actually I was thinking maybe you swapped them out with beads.”

“Yeah, poison’s a little extreme.”

Sissi frowned at him and turned to the movie.

“Did I miss something important just now?” She said, as a man The Man in the Machine worked his was across the screen. “What the fuck is going on?”

Odd bit back a smile. “Just go with it.”

To Sissi’s credit, she really tried. She was green by the man-made chicken scene, but she just clutched the candy container and soldiered on. It was when the baby was revealed that she lost it.

“No, no, nononononono.” She said, bashing the eject button. “Jesus christ, no. Oh god.” She shuddered. “Why does surrealism always have to be disgusting? Why can’t it be happy and fun and weird?”

“Oh, come on,” Odd had been kind of hoping she would make it through the whole thing. That or actually throw up. “It’s not that bad.”

Her look of horror was almost better than seeing her vomit. 

“You are a sick, sick man Odd Della Robbia.” She said as she pulled the dvd from her computer and put it back in its case, snapping it shut like she wanted to snap the disk instead.

“Okay, you won. Guess I better be going.” Odd started to stand, but Sissi grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him back down.

“Oh no you aren’t. You owe me.” 

Odd couldn’t stop from wincing. “You know what you want?”

“Yup.” Sissi threw open her dresser and ran her finger down a stack of dvds. Odd vaguely remembered seeing them before, but the pile had been a lot smaller then. She selected something, twirled on her heel, and plopped back down next to him.

“You have to watch something I want to watch.” She said, holding up the dvd case. “Have you ever seen, When Harry Met Sally?”

“No.”

“I figured.” She slid the dvd in and tapped her computer as it hummed and whirred.

“What’s it about?”

“Two people.”

Odd laughed. “Oh god, it’s a chick flick, isn’t it?”

Sissi looked him right in the eye, “That’s right. It’s in color, and it’s happy and funny, and two people fall in love. It doesn’t even make you want to vomit.”

Odd bit his tongue. She was so serious. It was like he called her mother a whore, and her response was that yes, she was, and she made very good money. Her expression dared him to make a comeback. It said that she would crush him if he did.

Odd fidgeted against the bed and picked up a handful of candy, rolling the little balls in his palm as a couple appeared on screen, talking about how they met. It occurred to him that he wouldn’t be able to cut this short by saying the movie sickened him. No way he could convince Sissi that drivel made him physically ill. At least he had the chocolate to comfort him. 

And then something bizarre happened. The stupid little 90’s rom-com, it was…Good. Odd found himself laughing. He hadn’t even realized that he was enjoying himself until he looked at Sissi and saw that she was watching him instead of the movie. And she was smiling again.  

It wasn’t a song that stuck in Odd’s head that night as he tried to sleep, it was that smile. He traced the scratches on his cheek, trying to conjure the image of the girl who had inflicted them. They throbbed after being stretched out from all the laughing, but Sissi’s bruise must have ached to the bone just from smiling at him. 

It took Odd a moment to remember how bruises like that felt. Jeremie still had electrical burns on his arms from XANA’s last effort to stop them, but all the injuries Odd had sustained that day were well healed. The only marks left was puckered, dusky-pink skin that he knew would take ages to disappear. They would be there long after he forgot the pain of shrapnel slicing into him, or an elevator door slamming shut on his leg. 

Odd’s fingers were locked around the edges of his blanket. He forced himself to relax them. His mind drifted back to the color of Sissi’s sheets. He closed his eyes and tried to remember how many throw pillows she had and what color each one was. It was better than staring into the dark seeing the burn scar that now curled down the side of Aelita’s face, framing her left eye. His chest tight and his breath short, all he could think too close too close tooclose

He woke panting, but he slept through the night.

A/N: Don't look up Eraserhead, it's...the climax is a guy cutting the swaddling cloth off his child to find out it doesn't have any skin. And the rest ain't a picnic. Do not go near it unless you know you can handle stuff like that.

When Harry Met Sally, though, is often called one of the best rom-coms. It's basically just two people, wandering around and having snarky conversations in between trying to live their lives, and probably why people like it because it doesn't require them to believe in fate and perfect timing the way some movies do. It's all about the characters, which is the core of romance. Also, it's hella funny.

Part 3