#i remember as a small kid i went to a spencer's to buy a hat and was scared at how many face piercings the cashier had

[uncanny-tranny]

i was just reading through your intro in ur bio and: what piercings do you have?? do you plan on getting more??

I have been activated like a sleeper agent.......

I have a lot of ear piercings I did myself (I don't recommend it. My ear is torn a little now because of it, which is actually kind of cool), but I've never been really into ear piercings. I wouldn't be opposed to something like a triple/double helix piercing, but I'm not broken over not having it.

I mostly have and want facial piercings! I have snakebites, a nose piercing, and a philtrum. I really wanted a bridge piercing, but my piercer vetoed that (which I'm actually glad she did!). I've been thinking about something like a labret hoop, but I already have so many oral piercings, and I don't want to over-crowd my mouth :/

My next goal is a double nose piercing on the other side of my nose. I really love asymmetrical piercings, and I like how double nose piercings look. I've also thought about a cheekbone dermal piercing........

[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

Secret Santa

Summary: The BAU holds its first Secret Santa, and as fate has it, you pick your Spencer Reid. But you aren’t the only one with feelings. Gifts tell all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 1550+

A/n: We were going to do Secret Santa at work but shit hit the fan, and half of the people don’t want to give to the other half. So, I’ll substitute it with fiction. Please enjoy 🎅

Considering the amount of time the group spent working, finding everyone on the team that one perfect gift would be time-consuming. So, you suggested Secret Santa. 

Penelope loved the idea. She went around to gather everyone available and dragged them to the bullpen. Rossi, of the first to hear, offered his house to host the event on Christmas Eve. 

Gaining momentum, you pulled a piece of paper from your desk drawer and went to work. Most of the team gathered around to watch as your fingers folded the page into small rectangles and then tore at the edges. For each sliver of paper, you wrote a name for each member of the team. And then concealed the information by folding each piece. Morgan came back with a hat from lost and found. 

"Who wants to draw first?"

Morgan stepped up. He rubbed his hands together wickedly and drew from the hat, picking out a scrap. He revealed it to himself, keeping an even face. 

Penelope couldn't contain her excitement and pranced to you. Unlike the others, she didn't contain her thrill of the pick. You would guess Morgan, but there wouldn't be one person she wouldn't be happy to buy presents for. 

Prentiss stuck her hand in. She was smart enough to step back and wait to unfold hers when no one was watching. In a room full of profiles, one could never be too careful. 

Rossi didn't seem too thrilled with his pick but went back to stand beside Prentiss, trying to look over her shoulder at hers. 

JJ pretended to be selective, choosing one playfully to grab another one instead. She followed Emily's lead. Waiting until later to look. 

Reid was the last in the bullpen and stood off to the side, watching everyone else as they took their turns. 

"Reid?"

He bit his lip as he approached to pick between the last three. Once he pulled one, he unfolded it without concealing the corners of his lips. 

"Who'd you get, pretty boy?"

Spencer panicked, hiding the name in his fist so Morgan couldn’t peek. "That's not a part of the game."

"We have a case," Hotch called out from his office door. 

Morgan patted Reid on the back. There would definitely be more teasing later. 

The group filed into the meeting room one by one. Last, you extended the hat towards Hotch. Raising a brow, he diligently selected a scrap. He unfolded it and gave you a look. "Secret Santa?"

Nothing could fool him. When you smiled at Hotch sheepishly, he returned the smile, tucking the paper into his coat pocket and resumed his solemn expression. And you wondered if he'd picked you. 

You retrieved the last paper, putting it in your pocket for later. 

The flight back home was when you remembered the piece of paper. Luckily the case hadn't been long, or else you'd risk running it through the wash.  

As the others slept and rested, you chose the privacy of an empty row to unfold the paper.

Reid.

Of course. 

"Get somebody good?" Reid sat down across from you. And you entertained the thought that with his high IQ came with mind-reading capabilities. 

"Is there anyone bad?"

"I guess not."

You rested your cheek on your fist, staring at the scrap in concentration. "I don't know what to get them."

"You're lucky you looked at yours now. I've been worried about that the entire case. Slowed my reading speed down to ten-thousand words per minute."

You chuckle but offer your sincerest advice. "Whoever it is will love what you get them because it's from you."

"Thought that counts, right?"

You played with the paper between your fingers, and an idea popped up into your mind. "Right."

On Christmas Eve, everyone arrived at Rossi's home around seven. Rossi had spent the afternoon cooking an Italian dinner, and nothing had ever smelled more welcoming. 

Each team member discreetly left gifts on a table along the wall of the large window looking out onto Rossi's backyard, lit with twinkling Christmas lights. Presents varied in size, some wrapped, some bagged. Each gift with a tag addressed to who without the giver's name. It was more fun for profilers to guess. Though by the time everyone sat down, there were two fewer gifts than people present. 

"I'll go first," Rossi offered. Instead of going to the table to find his gift, he left the room, only to return with two handfuls of gift bags. "Merry Christmas." Rossi went around the table, handing a bag to each team member. When he gave you a bag, he beat answered your impending question. "What? I got myself." Returning to his seat as he continued. "So, I decided to get the same wine for everyone, since everyone depletes me at these gatherings."

"You should've picked from the hat again!" 

"You didn't say I could pick again." He sassed back. "Why doesn't someone else go? Reid?" 

Reid pushes his chair back but halts as you place a pack of cards on the table. You hold up the box, showing everyone. "Normal pack, right?" Everyone watched with a curious look. You hold it out towards Reid with your left hand. But with your right, you wave it over the box, and it disappears. 

"You've picked up magic?!" Spencer radiated as you make the deck reappear, this time without the box. Everyone claps, and you bow in your seat. 

"I thought I may try and attempt to impress the great Spencer Reid. And I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve for later." You send him a wink. "Who's next?"

"Go, kid." Rossi encouraged you. You walk over to the presents. Penelope, Emily, and then you spot your name written on a medium-sized gift bag. It's not too light nor too heavy as you bring it back over to the table, taking a seat as you pull out the red and green tissue concealing it. 

It's a handbag. A cinched sack with a dusty rose print with a white stripe along the top. And a pristine designer name on the front. 

You'd seen this bag… somewhere. But the memory was fuzzy. 

"Wooooah." JJ is the first to see the label. "That's nice." 

Penelope leans over JJ and snatches your bag from your hands. "You would call a Guess bag nice. This is a beautiful, crafted stretch of the fabric!" Morgan and Emily are stretching their necks. While Hotch and Rossi's brows furrow at the hysteria.

You're scanning everyone's faces until you look across from your seat and see Reid, the only one unalarmed. 

"I don't get why people are willing to spend hundreds or even thousands of dollars on a single fashion accessory." Rodeo Drive. A case. You're walking down the street, passing by the rich, feeling like a have-not. 

"It says that the owner of said handbag is worth something," You say to Reid, stopping in front of a designer's display window. Mannequins are dressed in obnoxious attire, but you're staring at a dusty rose bag displayed on a pedestal. "If someone buys it for you, they're telling you that you're worth wasting a lot of money on. If you buy it for yourself… then you're telling yourself that you're worth that." You'd seen many designer handbags you wouldn't be caught dead wearing, let alone paying the price of a down payment. But this one is modern and… your style. You can't help but gravitate towards it.

"You like that bag." He isn't asking. It's a fact. 

"I don't like myself that much." You force yourself to keep walking, but Spencer lingers, looking at the handbag another moment. 

You push back your chair, excusing yourself from the party. You miss the way the team looked between themselves, eyes one by one landing on Reid, who was quick to follow you into the hallway. Reid’s footsteps are too familiar not to recognize. When you turned on your heels, you nearly crash into him. 

He was worried you would be mad, but your demeanor spoke the opposite. You would hardly meet his eye, lips pressed together in a straight line. 

"I gave you a magic show, and you got me a purse!"

"I liked your show!" Spencer affirmed. "I loved it, actually."

"Why did you get me that bag?"

"Because you're worth that much to me." Now his eyes diverted your gaze, and the meaning behind his words clicked. "If anyone else had gotten me for Secret Santa, they would've bought me a book. But you gave me something that will last me a lot longer than five minutes. Something no one else would get me."

"The opportunity to ridicule me until the end of time?"

"A new shared interest!" He corrected. "And… maybe we could see The Magic Duel downtown sometime. I hear they're good. A little too into the banter-"

"Like as a date?"

"Yeah," he breathes out with a smile. He'd been holding that thought too long, you notice. 

"Sounds like a plan." You grin back at him.

"But you're paying. That purse really wiped me out."

Your laughter breaks up the tension, and Spencer takes your hand, leading you back to the group. 

If buying an expensive purse hadn't shown you his true feelings, his willingness to touch another human's hand did. 

[dontshootmespence]

Never Enough Cookies

A/N: Day 2 of my 25 Days of BAU Christmas. This one is a Spencer x Reader where they are neighbors (across the street), have always crushed on one another, and this Christmas the reader has baked way too many Christmas cookies, so she decided to walk across the hall and off some to Spencer.

Your neighbor’s two favorite holidays were Halloween and Christmas. They seemed to be the only ones he celebrated, because they were the only times of year he decorated his windows with little decals. 

Just last year, before Christmas, was when you’d moved in. You remembered the cute, pudgy snowman decals and the lights of the Christmas tree, complete with Doctor Who Tardis Tree Topper, staring at you through the window. You also remembered blushing furiously when he caught you staring for too long, giving him a short wave before ducking back into your apartment.

His name was Spencer Reid; he worked for the FBI, didn’t have any pets, no siblings either, just one mother, who had some kind of medical problem that kept them apart more than he liked to admit. But that was all you knew about him. Well that and the fact that whenever you were around him, you got all fuzzy inside. The heat would spread across your face and you’d stutter over your words. He on the other hand - Spencer would shuffle his feet against the floor, and start blurting out random facts, probably from nervousness. Because he liked you too...right? That’s what you thought at least. 

Now it was Christmas time again, and once again the decals went up in his window. Your interactions with him because more comfortable and fluid, but neither of you seemed to be able to work up the courage to ask the other out. One of these days it would happen. It would. You were sure of it.

As you turned around to take in the glory of your apartment, you couldn’t help but be proud of your decorations. It look like Christmas threw up in here - and it was great. On the shelf above your electric fireplace, sat an Elf on the Shelf, as well as Frosty, Santa and Grinch dolls. The Island of Misfit Toys from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer also sat nearby, on the small table next to the TV. All year round, you would have lights of some sort strung up on the walls. Most recently, they were Deadpool lights - a total impulse buy - but now they were multicolored lights that matched the ones on your tree. It was a geeky tree, complete with ornaments from all the different movies and television shows you enjoyed, but unlike Spencer, who topped it with Doctor Who geekery, your tree was topped with the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter; the tree was a hufflepuff, you were sure of it.

With a smile on your face, you skipped across the hardwood floor and into the kitchen, lighting a gingerbread scented candle and pulling out all the ingredients you’d need for your traditional holiday cookies - peppermint patties-stuffed chocolate cookies. They were fucking divine.

For hours, you sang along to Christmas songs, baking to your heart’s content. Everyone you knew was getting cookies this year. 

Spencer couldn’t help but giggle to himself as Y/N danced her way across her apartment. He was 99% sure that she had no idea he’d noticed her. But how could he not?

Her smile lit up the room. She had a Sorting Hat on top of her Christmas tree. She was pretty and kind, and from what little he knew, smart too. 

Since she’d moved in last year, he’d wanted to ask her out, but every time he tried to open his mouth, he heard himself say something completely stupid, so he’d never built up the ability to say anything. He could see by the look of her apartment that she’d been decorating, and each time she emerged from her kitchen, she had a little more flour or sugar on her, so he assumed she was doing some holiday baking. 

Year after year, he spent his Christmas alone. Occasionally, he would be able to visit his mother, but the holidays for some reason, were kind to her in regards to her illness, so more often than not they made do with a phone call rather than a visit. He was tired of spending the holidays alone. Maybe the next time he passed Y/N he’d work up the courage to ask her out.

After what felt like days, but was actually only hours of baking, you were finally finished. There were enough cookies for your boss and co-workers that you needed to give something but didn’t feel like spending any money on, as well as the mailman and your pizza delivery guy...what? You were on a first name basis and the boy looked like he needed to eat; what college kid didn’t appreciate free food?

You also had enough to feed the entire block. You’d made way too many. Looking at the mound of delicious smelling chocolatey peppermint concoctions, you wondered whether Spencer liked the combination. Maybe he’d want some cookies?

You packaged up what you’d be bringing to everyone you’d already intended to and then gathered up a plate for Spencer before pulling on your coat and traveling across the street.

Knock, knock.

“Hello?” You heard him say. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Y/N. From across the street.” He was there in seconds with a smile on his face.

“Y/N,” he stuttered. “It’s nice to see you. What’s this?”

“Do you like chocolate and peppermint? I made enough cookies to feed a small army. Just a few too many. And I figured you’d like some. Love the Christmas tree topper by the way.” You needed to stop. You were rambling. Shut up, brain.

Spencer just chuckled and opened the door a little wider. “I-I love chocolate and peppermint...do you want to come in?”

Taking his invitation, you walked into the apartment and handed him the plate of cookies, listening as he crumpled up the tinfoil and took a bite. His mumble of approval was your soundtrack as you took in his apartment from a new perspective. Christmas threw up in his place too. But something about it was even more magical. It could’ve been its newness to you, or maybe it was the placement of the lights. Knowing him, he had them perfectly mathematically placed for the most magic possible. “Y/N, these are delicious.” His mouth was full, but you knew what he said anyway. “Where did you get this recipe?”

“Just online. I started making them a couple years ago and they’ve been a hit with everyone I’ve ever known.”

Without realizing it, the two of you fell into easy conversation, only noticing the time when Spencer’s watch went off two hours after you’d walked into the apartment. Casually, he strolled over to the kitchen and counter and took some pills - you were assuming that was what the alarm was for - and started blushing. “Ummm...Y/N, I-I-I don’t know if this is too straight-forward or out of the blue. I’m hoping it’s not. But if it is I’m sorry...would you maybe want to go out to dinner with me?”

The smile spread across your face; you could feel your cheeks heating up. Instead of saying anything, you walked into the kitchen and got up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I’d love that Spencer. Would you want to go now? I’m starving.”

“Me too,” he laughed. “I’m saving these cookies for later.”

Though you’d been having a good time talking before, his smile seemed even more natural now. He pulled on his coat and picked up yours, holding it out for you to step into. Such a gentleman. “I still can’t believe I made so many. Next year, I’ll have to remember so I don’t make too many.”

“I’m firmly of the belief that there are never enough cookies. Case in point, if you hadn’t made more than you needed, we may not be here right now.” Spencer stopped in the doorway and turned to face you. You were both grinning like idiots. 

Then out of nowhere, he dipped his head to take your lips in a more heated, yet still sweet kiss. “Sorry, I just...I’ve been wanting to do that since you moved in.”

“Me too. You’re right. There are never enough cookies.”

@unstoppableangel8 @coveofmemories @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @jamiemelyn @sexualemobitch @rmmalta @lukeassmanalvez @reddie-for-mileven @hogwarts-konoha @original-criminal-fanfics @sassygeek77 @rt8815 @amarislestrange @sarahkay-19 @bagelsofdoom @xxfeelmylovexx @psychoticantisepticeye @emllyprentiss @dsgirl4987 @captainreid @teatimewithtiya @queenanneslace4 @the-awesome-one-with-pigtails @tippy06 @ultrarebelheart

[pitifulmagicalocs]

Scene: Halloween Flashback

Canon Year: 2006

Characters: Zoey Huber (POV), Kyle Hausman, Zac Salgado, Mick Salgado, Crystal Angioli, Spencer Green, Nathan Blanchard, Janet Hausman-Scott.

Words: 2965

Commentary: I don’t love this one. I need to work on the child versions of these characters more. But it’s cute and I still want to share it.

___________________________________

Zoey scooted closer into the circle, shifting uncomfortably. Her belts dug into her waist and her wig was hot and scratching at her scalp, but she couldn’t take either off. They were vital pieces of her costume. At least she got to click her beaded necklace against her teeth as she sat and listened to her friends babble on about the events of the evening.

“How do you think Lori’s family got their pumpkins to look like that?” Zac, clearly not in the same mindset as Zoey, had long-since set aside his Spiderman mask, and was shaking his fingers through his sweaty, flattened curls, to try to fluff them up again.

“Glow-in-the-dark paint.” Kyle took his old-timey fedora off of his head and spun it on his finger as he sat cross-legged at the edge of the circle.

“That’s a thing?”

“That is a thing. You can buy it at party stores.”

“Huh.”

Crystal turned her body towards Spencer.

“Hey, Spence? Do they have Halloween in Jamaica?”

Spencer shook his head, his helmet sliding down over his eyes.

“Not like here. Not really.” He pushed the helmet back up his forehead with a sigh.

The group gave subtle nods of interest, and then fell quiet for a while.

“So—“ Mick spoke up. “What are we gonna do on this spooky evening, under the light of the full-moon?”

“The moon is a waxing gibbous tonight,” said Crystal.

“Shut up.”

Zoey snorted, then broke into a giggle, until Crystal squinted over at her, and she forced herself silent.

“Alright, guys!” Kyle’s Mom called from the top of the stairs before sound of her clacking heels on the creaking stairs thumped above their heads.

Moments later, Ms. Hausman appeared around the corner. In her hands, a bowl big enough to need both of her arms around it to keep it steady.  

“I sorted the candy for you guys. Here you are.”

She crouched down at the edge of the circle, sliding the bowl to the center of it.

“It’s all safe. Now, Kyle, don’t overeat and make yourself sick again, okay?”

“Oh man!” Mick boomed. “I forgot about last year! Remember when he horked all over the bathroom at Crystal’s house? That was awesome!”

The group broke out in a chorus of “Oh yeah!” and raucous laughter. Even Kyle, who was clearly trying to sulk, had a flicker of a smirk on his cheek as he watched his friends lose it.

Janet rolled her eyes with a warm smile on her otherwise tired face. She reached over and gently smoothed her son’s hair beneath her fingers, then her eyes trailed over to Mick.

“Mikail, honey? I’m so sorry, but—what in the world are you?”

Mick looked down at himself. His ‘costume’ consisted of a mutilated raccoon costume with the tail chopped in half, fake blood drenching the fur and a dark tire-mark painted across his chest.

“I’m uhh—half Chilean and half Tunisian.”

Janet closed her eyes and blew a laugh out her nose. A much smaller reaction than Zac, who doubled over, squawking out a laugh of his own.

“No, sweetie, your costume!” Janet said with great patience.

“I know, I know,” Mick laughed. “I’m roadkill!”

Janet’s eyes popped open, and then she slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god.” Her voice came out muffled by her palm.

“He’s a very special little boy, Mom,” Kyle said, making Janet laugh out loud.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Janet sighed, tearing a bit at the corner of her eyes. “You guys have fun. I’m going to just be upstairs.”

“Wait, Mom!” Kyle reached out, pulling the bowl of candy towards himself. “—You didn’t take the Raisinets. Take them.”

“No, that’s okay, hon. You have them.”

“But they’re your favorite.”

“It’s okay.”

Kyle shook his head, picking a handful of yellow packages out of the bowl and jumping up, forcing them into his mother’s hands.

“You always eat them! You love them!”

Janet laughed, rolling her eyes and opening her hands for Kyle to fill them with candy.

“Sweet little angel,” she said softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Kyle’s forehead, leaving behind an oily, red stain.

“Oh shoot, your costume.”

Kyle went cross-eyed, trying to look at his own forehead, then he shrugged.

“I’m Frank Sinatra. I think it works.”

Janet grinned, smoothing her hand over Kyle’s hair one more time before nodding to the group, and turning to leave.

“I’ll be right up here if you need me.”

“Okay, Ms. Hausman!” the kids called.

“Thanks, Ms. Hausman!” Zoey added on.

Kyle returned to the circle, and dropped down, raking his fingers across his bangs and messing his hair back up again, trying to undo the damage his mother had done to his bed head.

They all stayed quiet until they heard Janet’s footsteps trail off, and a door click shut. Then, immediately, Mick threw himself against Kyle’s side.

“Oh, my sweet little angel! Thank you for this gross candy that nobody wants! Muah! Muah!” Mick leaned in close, making a kissy face that Kyle strained to escape from.

“Dude, fuck off!” he laughed, shoving Mick back with a small burst of red magic. “I like Raisinets!”

“Yeah, me too.” Spencer nodded.

“I’ll eat anything,” Nathan added on.

“You have no idea how gay you guys are.” Mick climbed off Kyle and straightened himself up, folding his legs up under himself and picking a strand of magic off of his fur, flicking it into the air and letting is disintegrate.  “Especially you, Kyle.”

Kyle’s eyes flew open. “You were just trying to kiss me!”

“Yeah, but I’ve never eaten a raisin on purpose, so.”

“That—“ Kyle froze. “—Whatever, dude.”

“I’m not gay!” Spencer huffed. “I love ladies. Ladies love me!”

“Raisins!” Mick raised his voice to a squeak, and once again—Zac burst into laughter.

“Okay.” Nathan slapped his hands together, silencing them. “Candy time!”

He dumped over the bowl, and they all set to sorting out candies, flicking each-other’s favorites at them. Mick frequently tossed mint-flavored things into Zoey’s lap, winking at her when she went to thank him.

“Hey, Hausman,” Nathan spoke up. “I’ll pay you to puke again.”

“I can’t vomit on command, Nate.” Kyle rolled his eyes, dropping a handful of candy into his upturned hat on the floor. “You’re the one in the witch costume. You do it.”

Nathan grinned widely.

“Okay!” he said, pulling a white box from out his pocket. Everyone collectively groaned. He had pulled this stunt ten times already that night.

He tilted the box, which read ‘Candy Rot!’ in big, black letters, into his mouth. Then he leaned forward and snarled, letting the inky, gel-like candy seep between his teeth.

“Rrrrah!” he roared, the fake rot dribbling down his chin.

“Watch the carpet, dude!” Kyle hissed, and Nathan quickly swiped at his chin with his sleeve.

“You’re a shitty witch, Nate,” Mick said. “—You smell too gross.”

Nathan fake laughed, and then he jolted forwards, spitting the candy out and all over the front of Mick’s costume.

“Dude! Ew!” Mick shrilled, pulling at the neckline of the costume and twisting his head down to try to see the spot.

“Why are you a witch every year, Nathan?” Crystal asked. “—It’s kinda insensitive.”

“Disgusting!” Mick whined, jumping up and rushing to the desk in the far corner of the room, snatching up a Kleenex box and immediately getting to work, wiping an ugly combination of fake rot and fake blood off onto the tissues.

“A lot of people dress as witches, Crystal,” Zac answered when nobody else did.

“Just saying. It’s like dressing up as a cancer patient.”

“Cancer patients that kill!” Nathan wailed dramatically, lunging at Spencer, who grabbed his foam sword and whacked him on the top of the head with it.

“No!” he barked, and then they both burst into laughter.

“Maybe that’ll be my costume next year!” Nathan suddenly gasped. “—Cancer witch!”

“That’s unrealistic,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Rot kills cancer cells. They both can’t survive in the same body. They’re actually trying to find a way to use that to cure it.”

Nathan got quiet for a second, then he lunged at Kyle in the same way, snarling and squealing, doing his best ‘witch’ impression. Zoey backed up out-of-the-way and snickered as Kyle went down with a loud ‘thud’.

“Ah! Fuck off!” Kyle laughed, squirming underneath Nathan, who grabbed at the corners of his jacket and shook him violently.

“Zombie!” he called to Crystal. “Help me! Know-it-all brains taste better!”

Crystal rolled her eyes, and then laughed. “Okay, okay!”

She lifted her arms and groaned, dragging her knees across the carpet and then collapsing on top of the two boys.

“Braaaaains! Nerd braiiiins!”

Zoey threw back her head and cackled. Spencer shifted in closer and stared for a moment, before poking at the pile of friends with the tip of his sword.

“I’m helping!” he announced, making Zoey laugh even harder, enough to make her ribcage ache.

Zac jumped up. “Look out, citizen! I’ll help, too!”

“I’m not a citizen! I’m a knight!” Spencer argued.

“Look out! Sir. Citizen! I’ll help, too!” Zac threw himself into the pile, and a couple of voices groaned out in response.

“I can’t feel my fucking legs, assholes!” Kyle choked out.

“I ate them!” Crystal said.

“Oh. That’s okay, then.”

Zoey fell over onto her side, her eyes burning along with her lungs as she squealed out in a giggle-fit. She kicked at the floor and threw her hands over her eyes. Not looking up until she felt a hand tapping on her shoulder. She uncovered her face and blinked her teary eyes up at the ceiling.

“W-What?”

Mick stood over her, a finger pressed to his lips. His other hand, he held out to her. She gripped it tightly and he pulled her back up into a seated position. Then, he dropped down next to her side and leaned in close, whispering a bit too loudly into her ear.

“Grab some candy and run!”

“What?” Zoey gasped. But Mick just winked, and then he dove onto the floor, scooping up armfuls of candy and dropping them into the bowl before leaping to his feet, bowl-in-hand, and charging for the stairs. Zoey blinked in confusion for a moment, then shrugged and grabbed a couple more handfuls of candy off the floor.

She stood up, still a little light-headed from the laughing fit, and she leapt over the pile of kids on the floor, rushing to Mick’s side.

Mick balanced the bowl between his arm and his hip and he reached up, grabbing the dangling string attached to lightbulb overhead and flickering it on and off a few times.

“Later, later, raisin eaters!” he hollered.

The group broke apart, Kyle still laying on the floor, gasping for air. The others stared in surprise up at the ceiling, then over to Mick and Zoey, and then to the near candy-less spot on the carpet.

“Oh hell no!” Crystal shouted.

“Go, go! Get them!” Nathan jumped up.

“Come on, Kyle!” Spencer grabbed Kyle’s arms and yanked him up off of the floor.

“Go, go, go!” Mick blurted out, gripping the bowl in both hands and tearing up the stairs. Zoey squealed in delight and took off after him, careful not to fall and whack her face off of the steps.

They broke out into the upstairs kitchen. Kyle’s mom, who sat, straight-spined, on a stool at the kitchen-counter, an unkempt pile of papers littered before her, darted her eyes up at them.

“What—?” she started.

“Hide us!” Mick whispered.

Janet squinted, then flinched as the sound of thundering footsteps started up the stairs. She slowly smirked, and then pointed down beneath the counter. Mick snickered, and he hurried around, Zoey at his back. They both dropped down behind the counter and hid there, next to Janet’s stool. Zoey wrapped her arm around her mouth to keep herself quiet.

Moments later, the others loudly tore into the kitchen, their feet shaking the floor beneath Zoey’s knees.

“Mom! Where’d they go?” Kyle asked.

“They took the candy!” Zac added, sounding a bit winded.

“Well they didn’t go upstairs,” Janet spoke slowly. “That’s for sure. Hmm.”

Mick pressed his back against the side of the counter, squinting his eyes shut and clearly trying so hard to keep from laughing out. Zoey buried her face in the inside of her elbow, trying so hard to do the same. At the same time, constantly re-adjusting her fingers to keep the candies from falling out of her grasp and onto the floor.

There was a long moment of silence, save for a bit of shuffling, and then the sound of multiple pairs of feet rushing out of the kitchen. Shortly afterwards, they could hear the group starting up the stairs, all jeering and calling out Mick and Zoey’s names.

“You are so awesome, Janet!” Mick whispered, dropping a couple candy-bars on her lap.

“Thank you. I try,” she answered, taking the candy and noisily unwrapping it above the counter. “You know, I heard you call my son gay.”

Mick’s jaw dropped open, and Zoey snorted, dropping her arm.

“You’re not just awesome, though,” Mick patted Janet’s knee. “You’re also just—such a beautiful woman. You know, if I weren’t ten years old—“

“You are so your father’s son, Mikail.”

Mick grinned proudly, his cheeks dimpling. Then, he caught Zoey’s eye, and mouthed out ‘Oh my god!’

“We’re in s-so much trouble!” Zoey whispered.

Mick slowly nodded, a wild look in his eye. As if he’d just robbed a bank, and not a candy-stash.

The thudding sound of feet on stairs returned, and not long after, the group was in the kitchen again, murmuring and shuffling.

“They weren’t up there!” Spencer announced.

“Yeah, what gives?” Crystal added.

“I said they weren’t upstairs,” Janet said. “—You kids chose not to listen to me.”

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “—But you said it in a way that—“

Everything fell quiet, and Zoey put her face into her arm again, biting hard on her bottom lip and watching Mick, who shrunk in on himself with wide-eyes and a nervous smile.

“Hang on.” Kyle’s voice lowered. “—I didn’t give you chocolate bars.”

“Hm. No. I guess you didn’t.”

“Oh my god,” they heard Nathan whisper, then saw Kyle’s legs move around the counter.

“Mom, I—“Kyle stopped to drop down and peer under the counter. His eyes fell on them instantly, and his face dropped into a frown.

“Hey, buddy! It’s my good buddy!” Mick cheered with a quavering voice.

“Hi, K-Kyle. What’s up?” Zoey held out her hand. “—Want a Tootsie-Pop?”

Kyle scoffed, and shook his head. In a quick motion, he lunged forward and grabbed hold of Mick by the ankle.

“Wee!” Mick cheered as Kyle dragged him out from under the counter by the leg, still balancing the candy bowl on his stomach. Zoey saw Crystal’s arms come down and snatch the bowl up.

“Yeah, why don’t you take that for me? Thanks.” Mick’s head turned left and right, probably taking in all the others who stood over him. Zoey did her best to fight back laughter. Simply because she couldn’t tell if anyone was actually, genuinely angry with them.

“Zoey, you’re safe, because you’re new,” Kyle pointed to Zoey, reassuring her with a quick smile before turning his attention back to Mick.

“You’re dead.”

“Yeah! I’m roadkill! That’s the point.”

“Nah, we’re gonna kill you,” Nathan said, nudging Mick’s side with his foot.

“You can’t kill me, fools!” Mick threw his arms up, kicking his legs free from Kyle’s grasp. “I will only steal again!”

“Let’s put him in the couch cushions again; sit on him for a while.” Crystal suggested, and the others gave various sounds of approval.

“That sounds awful, let’s do it!” Mick agreed.

Kyle licked his lip, and then jumped to his feet, grabbing Mick’s leg and dragging him again. This time, out of Zoey’s sight.

“Bye, Zoey!” Mick called as he disappeared around the corner.

“Bye, Mick!”

“Don’t drag him down the stairs, guys! You know better!” Janet called after them.

“We’re not, Mom.”

Then came a few more shuffling, thumping noises, followed by a loud “Ow!” from Mick. But seeing as Janet stayed in her place, it couldn’t have been serious. After a while, the kitchen became quiet again, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall, Janet’s pen scratching at papers, and the distant sound of struggling from the basement.

“Are they going to—to sit on him?” Zoey asked, still crouching under the counter.  

“They’re going to put him under the couch cushions and sit on him, yes.”

“Weird. My new friends are really weird.”

“They’re sweet kids.” Janet tapped her heel on the floor, making Zoey jump. “—They’re good to my boy.”

“Kyle’s one of my favorites.”

“Thanks,” Janet chuckled. “I worked hard on him.”

Zoey giggled softly, slipping out from under the counter and straightening herself out, fixing her skirts and itching at her wig. Janet quickly flipped the papers over, ink-down, and she turned in her seat, smiling warmly over at Zoey.

“Why don’t you go sit on your friend with everyone else, Zoey?”

“In a minute,” she answered before lifting her foot and digging a finger down beneath the tongue of her sneaker, fishing out a couple crinkling packages.

“Do you like M&Ms?”

Janet gawked at the candy in Zoey’s hand for a moment, and then she threw her head back and laughed, her blue eyes squinting to slits. Zoey hopped up and down on her heels, giggling excitedly.

“Absolutely,” Janet finally answered, shaking her head, still beaming.