#i think the sticker on my car is my favorite thing I have- continue the adventure wherever I travel :P

[thesoftboiledegg]

A couple of thrift stores have opened in my area in the past year. I didn't expect to find any merchandise, but after @i-believe-in-unicorns-and-you showed me the Rick and Morty sweatpants she found at Marshall's and I thought about the crazy finds on @shiftythrifting, I figured I'd give it a shot.

And who knew: it was time for a thrift store roundup! 👚🧦

The first store had a section for gifts and accessories. My expectations were low, but when I rounded the corner, the shelves were loaded with Rick and Morty stocking stuffers. The first thing I saw was this bathrobe:

Hmm, that's a cute figure...maybe someone should draw Rick wearing that. 🤔

This sock packaging is adorable. It looks like a pint of ice cream!

On a similar note, I actually thought these were cans of pickle juice. Adult Swim has no problem selling Toxic Rick and Shrimp Rick energy drinks, so it wouldn't be off-brand, but nope: they're boxer shorts that advertise your SWAG.

I realize that Swag is the brand name, but selling Pickle Rick boxers with SWAG on the waistband isn't exactly helping the show's bro-y reputation. The can is cute, though.

Let's all celebrate Rickmas...with Pickle Rick!

Evidently, socks are a hot item. I think they're the new ugly Christmas sweaters.

In fact, Cool Rick wants you to buy these socks!

And you can complete your outfit with festive sweatpants.

Next stop: Marshall's. They continued the theme with an advent calendar. 12 days of socks!

Advent calendars have been getting more luxurious over the years. Some people spend hundreds of dollars on calendars loaded with jewelry, ornaments, food and beauty products. Apparently, 2021's most expensive calendar was custom-made and cost $10 million. Must be nice!

Anyway, back to the proletariat: I love the design on these boxers. OK, maybe Rick didn't think it through, but he's proud of his gift!

More sweatpants! "Anatomy Park" is one of my least favorite episodes, so I'd ask for the receipt for that one.

I did think John Oliver's character was funny. "Would you like to ride...the bone train?"

Finally, I went to Five Below. They had one of the strangest pieces of merchandise I've ever seen: a projector that casts a picture of Rick and Morty underneath your car.

I could see somebody doing that once for Halloween or another event, but all the time? Wearing merchandise isn't enough--you have to represent the show while you're driving? Are guys hoping that Dan Harmon will see this and be so impressed that he makes out with them a little?

Then again, I guess there's a reason it has a clearance sticker.

[travelingthief]

My Favorite Moment With: Lord Apollo

It was my first long haul drive by myself, but I had a good CD collection, so I didn’t mind. My ‘06 Ford shook when I took her above 70 but that didn’t stop me from from hitting 80 while screaming the lyrics to “Open Road Song” by Eve 6. The sun shone down on the newly bloomed trees and I knew at the end of this drive was a pretty person waiting to take me to a punk show. I switched CDs at a gas station stop, putting in Aerosmith and having visions of Apollo and Hermes rocking out with big hair. Both were sat next to me in the passenger seat.

I arrived at the person’s house, meeting their dog and roommate before we headed out to the show. We were laughing as I spun them on street corners and asked about their favorite bands. Somewhere along the way I asked them about their favorite flowers and they told me “hyacinths.” 

I grinned wide, “have you heard the myth?”

It was the first time I told a story to somebody, but I kinda nailed it. I left out the part where I practiced in the mirror twenty times over. I delivered my last line - “and from the blood of His beloved, Apollo crafted the first hyacinth.” We looked down to see we had stopped in front of a spray of hyacinths and I thanked Apollo silently.

The outside of the venue looked like a redemption center. We went down a ramp to the admissions desk veiled behind a cloud of smoke and I teemed with excitement. We were there to see one of my favorite local bands, and it was one of our first dates. The lady at the table asked for proof of COVID vaccinations and I start to kick myself. Now, I am vaxxed and I am boosted but what I am not, is smart enough to keep my vaccine card on me. We got turned away and my brain starts running through its usual script-

“You fucked it all up. The night is ruined. How could you be so stupid?”

But it’s not my first round with depression, so I counter back. “It’s not a big deal, we can find something else to do. The night has been going great.”

But my brain persisted. “You always mess things up. Why would they want to be here with you?”

I countered again. “That’s not the truth. We’re still having a good night.”

So my brain tried a new tactic. “Isn’t it pathetic how you manage to be sad, even when things are going well?” I hadn’t figured out how to think myself out of that one. So I shut down.

My depression gets physical and I tend to go nonverbal and seem disinterested in conversation when I’m depressed. So instead of talking, I offered my date an earbud and we just walked along the river.

The rest of the weeked, I swung back and forth between depression and feeling okay. I reassured my date that it wasn’t them - my brain just gets mean sometimes. They told me they understood. I was relieved yet disappointed when it came time to leave, but I hopped in my car and started my second long haul drive.

I realized there was a downside to long drives alone. My brain continued on about how terrible I made the weekend and fretted about if I’d get a text back. I tried and tried, but the music couldn’t get loud enough to distract me from the thoughts. I ended up pulling off at an exit halfway through the drive: I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I had to find something.

The first right was a local music store and I immediately pulled in. I closed my eyes and asked “Lord Apollo, if you’re there give me a sign.” I cut the engine and went inside. They were playing the same Aerosmith CD I had listened to on my drive down and I hummed along while sifting throught the stacks. Somehow I ended up in the Local Section, holding a CD with a parental advisory sticker and artwork of a kid staring down multiple doors. I had never heard of the artist before and had no idea what kind of music was on the disc, but I bought it anyway. 

With a bit of effort, I popped the CD into my semi-broken disc drive and pulled out of the parking lot. The first song started up; horns and drums and a beat I could get into. Then the lyrics started:

Welcome to your 20s baby, I know you’re gonna do amazing/All you gotta do is get it, all you gotta do is get it

And the artist broke down into a rap. Suddenly the rest of the drive didn’t seem so long. I thank Apollo for His sign and when I got home, I texted my date.

And they texted back.

And that’s (one of) my favorite moment(s) with Lord Apollo.

[totallyf1ne]

Chapter one - Bus stop

I hate riding the bus to school. It's loud and people don't know how to just sit the hell down, But I guess as long as I have my earbuds on and I'm sitting in a window seat I'm totally fine.

I just can't wait until Chester gets the money to finally buy himself a car. He's had his license since sophomore year, so it's about time he has a car.

He wants a Mazda Mx-5, a silver one to be specific, how do I know? Well one, he tells me about it all the time, and two, he makes us go to the auto mall near the rundown KFC and just stares at it for literal hours on end.

Last week when we revisited it I asked him “Why don't you ask your parents to just buy it for you or something?”

His parents are wealthy as hell, so it was a pretty good question. He said the reason was because they wanted him to learn to make money for himself and not always rely on his parent's wealth. I think that's pretty stupid and personally believe that if you have money, you should spend it.

I'm Jane McCarter, I'm 17 years old and I live in Bakersfield California with my dad and my pet fish.

I am currently a senior at Westfield High and my best friend, the dork I mentioned earlier, is Chester Allen, we've been friends since 5th grade.

I'm not really “close” friends with any other person besides him and if I'm being honest, Id prefer to just stick with that. Well, I have these... “Acquaintances” that I don't really hang out with but just chat with, like Markus for example, he's chill.

—

As Jane hops off the last step of the bus, she almost bumps Markus Reed, who was on his longboard but quickly makes an abrupt stop and takes off his headphones. “Oh shit, I'm sorry Jane,” he says as he picks the longboard up with one hand. “It's whatever, don't worry about it.” Jane says, dusting off her denim skirt “soo, I didn't see you last Sunday? You said you'd cover my shift?” Markus said scratching his elbow. “Oh yeah uh, I forgot to tell you, I quit.” Markus’s grin fades “What? Really? Why??” he whines as they start walking down the sidewalk.

“I dunno, my parents want me to get a better-paying job with more hours.”

“Oh, I see,” Markus says before loudly sighing, a little disappointed that he’s lost one of his favorite working buddies. He always liked working with Her. “Well, good luck with that. I’m sure you’ll find something good.”

They walk in awkward silence for a moment before Markus speaks up again. “So, how’s Chester doing?”

“He’s good,” Jane says. “He still hasn’t gotten that car, though. I really hope he gets it soon 'cause I’m tired of taking the stupid god-forsaken bus.” She says before rolling her eyes.

“Yeah I hope he gets that car soon too, I want him to drive me to the Winter Formal this year,” Markus says as he flutters his eyelashes and clasps his hands together, cartoon hearts practically appearing in his eyes.

“Ugh,” she groans. “don’t tell me you still have a thing for fucking Chester Allen. Trust me he’s not into you He thinks you're, and I quote, “spazzy super–senior”. Jane air quoted with her fingers.

“I can’t help it! I have a thing for nerdy, zit-ridden, glasses-wearing men! And i don’t give two shits about what he says nor thinks about me.” He flips his jet-black hair over his shoulder. Jane rolls her eyes at his antics.

“Mark! Over here, dude!” One of Markus’s friends called out from one of the corners of the school. “Well, I’ll see you later, Janey Waney.”

“Never call me that again, please.” Jane pinches the bridge of her nose as he chuckles and continues down the sidewalk on his longboard toward his group of friends.

She starts walking towards the school doors and pushes them open, a whiff of cheap Ross cologne and smelly sweaty teens fill the air.

Humming a tune to herself, she wondered where the hell her best friend was and why he was so late.

Walking down the hallways she unclasps her grey, sticker ridden, Nokia flip phone from the waistband of her long skirt, a Skelanimals keychain dangles from the end as she opens it up, clicking the tiny buttons to find Chester’s number. Once she finally finds it, she presses and hears the ring, waiting for an answer.

“JANE!” Chester shouts out from behind her. “Holy shit Chester don’t fucking do that! I nearly pissed myself!” people turn their heads, but when they see where the loud voice was coming from they roll their eyes and go back to whatever they were doing.

“Sorry! Sorry! But I’ve been looking for you for a long time! you weren’t at the bus stop or at your locker?!?” He frantically says, out of breath from all the speed-walking he’s been doing searching for her.

"Relax! got sidetracked talking to Markus Reed," Jane explains, placing her phone back on the waistband of her skirt as they begin walking down the hall.

. "I had to tell him about me quitting Hot Topic, and then he started talking about how much he wanted to rail you or something, I don’t remember, I kinda tuned him out."

Chester’s face cringes. “Markus reed? Gosh, I hate that guy. He’s so weird with me.”

“Yeah I know, you tell me every time his name comes up,” Jane says before finally approaching her locker, twisting the lock to enter her combination and swinging it open to grab her textbooks.

She changes the subject. "The school bus can be such a pain sometimes. But at least I don't have to worry about finding a parking spot.”

Chester lets out a small laugh. "True, true, I can't wait until I finally get my baby (his car). Then we can drive ourselves to school and not have to worry about being late, fighting for a seat on the bus, or having our parents drive us."

Jane lightly grins. "Yeah. But in the meantime, we'll just have to make do.” She says before locking back her locker and placing the textbooks in her satchel.

As they walk back down the hallways towards their shared first period, She starts to wonder if she'll ever be as “outgoing” as Chester is. He seems to know most people in the school (seeing how he is vice president of the student council) and is always involved in some sort of activity or club. Jane herself has always been more of an introvert, preferring to stick with her small group of friends instead.

As they approach their English class, Jane spots Ms. Silvera, their teacher, standing outside.

Before they could enter the classroom, someone else pushed them to the side to enter before them. “excuse me!” They say with a soft giggle, pink Prada kitten heels tapping their way to their seat.

When Jane realizes who it is, anger and frustration start to boil up inside of her.

“Fucking.. Merianna Smith…” she says furiously under her breath.

It takes Chester a second to realize and when he does he has a face of worry and concern for his fellow goth bestie. “Jane just ignore her and don’t let it ruin your day, trust me it’s not worth it dude.” He says while comfortingly rubbing her shoulders.

As Chester tries to console her, Jane feels a pang of guilt for letting her hate toward Mary almost ruin another year of school. She takes a deep breath and shrugs her shoulders out of Chester's comforting hands.

"You're right, you're right," she says, calming herself down. Chester gives her a big smile before leading her inside Ms. Silvera's English class. Jane takes her seat next to Chester and tries to focus on the teacher's lesson, but she can't help feeling that her tension is still palpable.

Her eyes shift towards Mary, who is sitting 2 seats away from her and applying mascara while chatting with her posse/clique, not bothering to listen to the teacher's lesson.

Jane tries to remember when she even started to hate this girl. Was it all because of some stupid middle school drama? Or was it jealousy?

[condemnhim]

(mutant mayhem spoilers)

OHMIGOSH so i saw mutant mayhem two days ago, on its official opening here in the US

it was really really good and i loved it so much and ugh i could rant about it for ages. so here's a nearly 2000 word rant about it. sorry for any spelling and grammar errors

(more under the cut)

so first of all, lemme talk about the characters real quick. my favorite character continues to be donnie but all of them were really likeable in this one, and the dynamic the turtles had is amazing.

mm!leo was a very very good version of leo, staying relatively close to older versions of leo but having some of the more fun traits that leo has had recently in tmnt media (for example, he was willing to do some things with his brothers, even if they went against splinter. even if he felt bad about it.) he was funny and cool, really bringing it all together. nicolas cantu (that how you spell his name? idk) did a great job as his voice as well, he pretty much perfectly illustrated all the emotions he needed to for leo throughout the whole movie. the only thing i didn't like about leo was the fact that he had a crush on april, but that's mostly a me thing because i've never been a fan of the turtle x april ships, they're just uncomfortable for me. they played it off pretty well though.

mm!mikey was really enjoyable for a character who is generally a little bit hit-or-miss for his moments. it was really a hit for all of the times he was on screen or talked which i'm very glad about. i a little wish that the movie focused even more on mikey, but maybe the series/sequel will. he was funny and not nearly as gross as some previous iterations were (ahem 2012) and it was just a really fun time with him. he was pretty much the best parts of all of my favorite versions of mikey all put in one. shamon brown jr also did an amazing job with him!!!!! he's a really good voice actor and he was pretty much perfect for mikey. and yeah, one thing i think they could've done better is just giving him more screen time and focus i think?

mm!raph was really great. you could tell that he was definitely raph but he wasn't super aggressive or hard to talk to. he was funny and there were plenty of moments that made me laugh with him. even though the movie didn't go terribly far into all the characters, you could tell that he definitely has a soft spot for his brothers and for splinter as well. seeing him as a turtle tot was amazing as well by the way, he looked like a cinderblock. and yeah, you bet i gotta bring up brady noon, who was amazing for raph. (really, casting all teenagers for the teenage mutant ninja turtles was a great casting choice on all levels.) even though he was this kinda aggressive guy, you can tell that he has dreams and he has people he cares about. it was really great to see for raph.

and of course i gotta talk about my favorite little guy. mm!donnie was SOO GOOd and like my favorite from the whole movie, he was really fussing great. his design is so good just because they really incorporated the tech stuff into his design, and the stickers on his bō were a nice touch. one thing i wish they would've shown more of is stuff that donnie made himself, y'know? donnie's original tech is usually kinda pushed to the front in tmnt which is great, i love seeing donnie tech. but the main thing donnie did in this movie is fight with his regular bō and use his phone and drive a car or something? i hope we get to see his tech in the future. also, micah abbey did such an amazing job at him@!!1 i mean i really enjoyed how he had a higher voice which is NORMAL for teenage boys, like people's voices change at different rates. he sounded great!! i am sad we didn't get to see more scooter action with him though

april i sure have thoughts about. i mean the thoughts are all positive. she was such a good april and an amazing addition to the cast. first of all, i am strong supporter in her design. sure am a big fan of the non-white aprils. a lot of fans didn't like her design for whatever reason?? some of them didn't like that she's not white and others had issues with her body shape, which is stupid. she's a teenage human, there's no reason to give her the "perfect" adult woman's body (in their eyes anyway) when she's meant to just kinda be this a little average but nonetheless badass ally to the turtles. her personality was great, she felt like a real teenager. her arc of getting (mostly) over her camera sensitivity was really nice, and i appreciate that she wasn't totally over it by the end. ayo edebiri was a really great cast for her as well. (also, i'm glad that even though she agreed to go to prom with leo, it seems like she still sees him purely platonically. i will NOT stand for another 2012 donnie and april situation.)

anyway, splinter, amiright? it's interesting how they went with the route that he was originally a rat. he was a really good character and one of my favorite versions of splinter now. he really was just trying to be a good father to these turtles in this weird little family situation, and i can't blame him for being so overprotective of them when he was made to be a monster in times square by mrbeast. jackie chan was a great choice to play him. (i don't support what jackie chan did to his daughter though btw.) the fact that he learned martial arts through old tapes, new movies and fussing youtube (a video of a channel i watch was in it by the way????) is amazing.

okay now all the other characters were really cool too. all the mutants that baxter stockman created were really interesting and it's great how they brought back so many existing characters while adding new ones. bebop and rocksteady were actually funny which i don't really expect from bebop and rocksteady most of the time to be honest. superfly was actually really scary for being this kids movie villain, which i guess isn't very surprising for tmnt. he got away with kinda a surprising amount of swearing for it though, a whole lot of instances of "damn" and stuff. mondo gecko was very fun and i was actually a bit scared when mikey found his tail. cynthia utrom didn't play as big a part in this movie as i expected her to but she will definitely be a bigger part in the future, especially considering that she's obviously meant to be an utrom. (and oh my god that end scene??? but i'll get into that later) i sure was a big fan of superfly's family turning on him for the benefit of humanity (and the chance of living with the turtles and splinter.) the voice cast was great for all the side characters. i think it's really cool that the main cast (as in the turtles and april) were all voiced by younger, less well-known actors while the side cast and villains were all played by the much better-known actors.

anyway onto the art, IT WAS AMAZING AAAAHHH as an artist this was on fussing spider-verse levels of art and animation. it looked like teenagers helped design it, which is what they were going for. the movement looked great and SOO natural, aahh!! the fight choreo was amazing too, there was that one scene where they were trying to find info about superfly was so well put together. there really were a few stand-out moments but all of it was so good. i love it when the ninja turtles actually use their weapons as they should be, which has happened in the past but it was so clear that they did their research here. also i'm glad that jeff rowe and seth rogen said that they ensured that the animators weren't being mistreated or overworked.

anywho, the music amiright? the soundtrack being based on NYC-based rap and hip hop was a really great choice. that one song that goes "can i kick it, yes you can" was a great choice for the main title-y thing of that movie. it hit all the places it needed to.

some other notes i wanna bring up:

the stakes were real my guys. at multiple points, i felt such genuine fear for these fictional mutant turtles in my heart i thought i would have a stroke or something. for example, when cynthia just kept shocking them??? are they not aware of the damage that like father like son did to ninja turtles fans???? also when superfly just had them in his hands and you could HEAR their shells crunching a little bit. UGH that hurt me fr. it felt so so real and it was so so good.

the fact that the cardboard cutouts that splinter acquired were chris hemsworth, chris pine and chris pratt lmao

are any of the characters autistic? i was thinking about this and to be honest i think yes, some of them probably are autistic. but it's not as clear as it is in rise, especially with donnie, y'know?

about the pop culture references and memes that they used didn't actually feel dated or cringe to me. i've heard others complaining about that but it didn't bother me much, it felt how teenagers actually talk. (i'm a teenager btw, i'm pretty used to how we talk.)

making leo have a crush on a girl after rise!leo lmao

but speaking of leo having a crush on april, there is more i wanna say. so i do not ship them, i've never shipped any of the turtles with april. it just don't sit right with me. but i think they still have the opportunity to play it off with elegance and grace, by having april straight up refuse him when he's honest with her about how he feels. hoping that will happen at some point. i've been asked to dances and stuff by friends, i hope that's why april said yes to him asking her to prom at the end. i will find seth rogen if they put leo and april together in the end. (for legal reasons this is a joke.) but yeah.

and the end scene???? oh god what do you guys gonna think shredder's gonna be like in mm???? because as much as i like the pretty goofy side of shredder that we've seen in the past (like '87 shredder was so silly compared to 2012 or god forbid rise shredder), i would love to see a really just horrifying version of shredder that they would actually maybe kill off in the end? and then there's another sequel where leo has to grapple with his own conflicted feelings about killing shredder or something. that would be so real lmao

i'm really looking forward to the future of mutant mayhem, even though i still want more rise!! and also we must keep showing support for the wga/sag-aftra strike, even though it's gonna delay production on the next parts of the series.

it was a great movie though and a great use of one hour and thirty nine minutes.

[holdinbacksecrets]

you’ve circled his neighborhood five times before wondering if it’s possible to feel someone through the flash of their headlights, so you shift the gear to park and switch them off.

his face is consuming your mind, and you’re annoyed by the comfort it’s bringing you. the feeling of peace is one that always seems just out of reach, but today it arrived in wave after wave, gently and warmly.

the reality of its catalyst is bittersweet: shouldn’t you be able to create the feeling for yourself? then you’ll know it’s possible to find again and again regardless of the people in your life. also, it’s fucking terrified you for years to feel the greatest bliss in another’s company.

a new pair of headlights flash across your rear view mirror; your heart skips a beat as your chest tightens. the sound of the engine’s purr is all too familiar. you’re close to being caught, depending on his level of curiosity at 10pm on a tuesday night, depending on the degree of observation that’s joined him when he’s seen your car: did he pay attention to the bumper stickers? what about the license plate or the dented bumper?

you could shift back to drive and peel away from the curb, but a bigger part of you is hoping to get caught. a desire to roll your window down and call his name glimmers. and then your phone vibrates.

his name fills your sight, and you’re quick to reach for the device.

miss me that much?

he walks across the street slowly, slipping his hands into his front pockets, hoping you’ll look out your window before his sudden proximity surprises you.

is this missing? are you missing him right now? are you hoping to charge the peace, collect as much as possible? my god, what is he doing to you?

a tap on your window shakes your shoulders, but his energy penetrates the glass, and fear falters.

you’re rolling your window down before your gazes lock, and there it is, intensely.

jungkook leans against your window. palming the car’s roof. you’re surprised to see the expression in his eyes absent of the brightness that fuels his regular messing with you. instead, there’s concern in the obsidian that’s become your favorite view.

“hi, can i join you?”

you nod towards the passenger side and unlock the door. moments later, his cologne consumes your senses. you shift to drive and peel away from the curb.

the drive is quiet until you’ve turned onto a main road, and his hand finds your thigh, fingers spreading wide to touch more skin before settling on endless traces, the same pattern repeatedly.

“long day?”

your smile faces forward, but jungkook’s eyes shift, collecting it, feeling the emotion leaving you in ripples. it’s new. weeks have passed and the sides you’ve shown have been minimal, meeting him from a place of protection, until tonight, until something came over you that cracked the cage. honestly, he’s been waiting— hoping for this to come but unsure of his readiness to accept what that hope means: the shape his feelings for you have turned into.

“mmm, they’re always long. i missed you, felt you everywhere.”

your honesty is like a cold wind in winter. you’re uncomfortable, wanting to turn away— to disappear, but my god, it feels so good too. the slight uncertainty of finding the next full breath sets all your nerves on fire.

gentler things should make you feel alive.

jungkook pushes his fingers through his hair. he keeps it long, and you’re silently awaiting the day he shows up with a fresh cut.

he’s not sure what you mean. the possibilities diverge, different ideas finding him.

jungkook’s fluttery traces continue, and you think that’s a good sign. your words didn’t scare him. he’s not disgusted. maybe he’s waiting for you to say more. should you?

but his voice fills the space then: “was it different today? sorry— i don’t… not to make it sound like i expect to be on your mind all the time.”

he’s blushing when you look over at the stop sign.

“no, i know what you mean. i think it freaked me out, so i ended up driving to your place, hoping to solidify something for myself. i have this thing about happiness, about peace, that i shouldn’t rely on anyone but myself to have either— like i don’t… deserve them. or maybe i’m scared to love the feelings, get used to the way they feel when they’re mixed with someone else. they’re never as good on their own after that.”

the man beside you understands what you mean, and he thinks you’re so brave for saying it.

jungkook may meet you with a certain energy, but he’s not an idiot, and his interest in you is far from one dimensional. he cares, and he knew there was something keeping you still, quiet, afraid. the chill that finds him is a valid surprise, realizing what it means that you felt comfortable enough to share this with him.

at the same time, he wonders what the fuck happened. why the hell do you believe happiness and peace are expected to hold distance from you?

your breathy laughter cuts into his train of thought; he said the words aloud.

“that’s for another night drive, one with you behind the wheel and me with less anxiety than i’m starting to feel right now.” it’s the vulnerability.

“you’re not the only one who’s scared. everyone is terrified. we hide it behind different things, and some people gravitate to those who use similar tactics, while others appreciate the secrecy of steering clear of mirrors.”

“and what’s your tactic?”

“the playfulness, the jabs, maintaining some air that tries to give off i don’t give a shit when i do. we’re different sides of the same coin, one of us bound so tight, but we both understand caring can have consequences.”

[jacksonroseroth]

~The Price~Chapter 21~

Moodboard made by @badwolf-in-the-impala none of the pictures are ours.

~

Once they landed, Thatcher’s red Mustang sat waiting for them in the hanger and Thatcher handed the garment bags off to Lucas, who stashed them in the car and took off out of the hanger. Thatcher helped Taddie into the car then got in, quickly starting the engine and taking off, back toward town. As they drove, he asked where her art was stored and she directed him to the other side of town. Thatcher drove up to the unit and got out to hurry around the car, opening Taddie���s door for her as she dug her keys from her pocket and got out, isolating her storage key. He escorted her to the lock, glancing around as the lot was eerily vacant, while Taddie stuck the key the lock on her unit. It clicked as she turned it then unlocked, and Taddie bent down to haul up the rolling door, reaching in to turn on the light. It was a modest 5x10 unit, half filled with wrapped up canvases and boxes stacked on boxes, all labeled either ‘Paint’ or ‘Paint Supplies’.

“I think you need some paint-Ohh-Okay, we don’t like the painter jokes?” Thatcher said with a chuckle, catching her hand as she tossed it back into his stomach. She giggled and glanced back at him, going to the wrapped up canvases, picking up a few and looking them over.

“I don’t even know why I have some of these, honestly. They’re from senior year of high school-Damn near 15 years ago. Definitely not my best work.” Taddie said, unwrapping a few that were marked 2010. Thatcher came up beside her and smiled as he took her waist, looking over the piece. It wasn’t perfect, but it was still beautiful. A cottage by a riverbend in the middle of a forest, with a sticker at the top left corner with A+ Great use of colors! In the corner that told him it was a school project.

“No, it’s beautiful, kitten. I didn’t know how talented you were…Show me some more?” Thatcher asked, looking at her as she glanced back, her smile lifting a little more as she nodded and said, “Yeah? Um, well, I-I’m not sure what’s from when?”

“That’s fine. I just want to see.” Thatcher said, curling his finger under her chin and tilting it back, dropping a quick kiss to her lips. Taddie leaned against him for a moment before wrapping the piece back up and pulling out another; A snow covered valley with a lake, a cluster of cabins in the distance. As Thatcher took the smaller canvas, Taddie tugged a larger one onto an easel after she’d opened it, pulling the cover off. He looked up after setting the painting in his hands down and wrapping it up, moving over to her and sliding his hands over her hips. She definitely had a favorite thing to paint-Cabins and forests. This piece was the point of view of looking out a frosted cabin window, but with more details of the interior than the exterior. He chuckled into her curls as he nuzzled her hair then said, “You’re an amazing painter, Taddie. These are beautiful. Do you remember how recent these are?”

“This one’s last year-Ash and I were living in Tahoe through the winter before we moved out here. It was the last place I painted. I, um, I painted sparsely when I was with--” Taddie swallowed hard and took a deep breath as she shook her head. Thatcher gave her hips a light squeeze as she continued, “I did a lot when I was roaming around though. Sold a few, but not a lot. I probably have a lot of ones that are similar because I had to wrap everything up and stick it in a storage unit once it was done. I never had space to display everything or keep it all in one place--Well, besides here, but-Mold, so they need to be wrapped up.”

“You’ll have your studio soon, Princess. I promised, I always deliver on my promises.” Thatcher said as she quickly wrapped up the piece and turned to him. She gave him a soft, sweet smile as he lifted a hand for her. She took it and wrapped her other arm around his neck as she lifted on her toes to brush her nose against his.

“I hope so. That’s where all this is intended to go…Thatcher--” Taddie started, her tone turning a little more guilty and withdrawn. Thatcher quickly pulled her back as she started to shift away, his hand snaking to the back of her neck and gripping it, gently, as he guided her lips to his in a heated kiss. She kissed him back and gripped his hoodie as he backed her into a stack of boxes. She pushed her hand beneath his collar at the back of his neck, rubbing over his skin before she pulled her arms back, feeling for the hem of his hoodie and slipping under. Thatcher’s arm slide from around her waist, pushing his hand beneath her sweater and sliding to the small of her back, beginning to stroke over her skin, slowly, until she broke the kiss with a light moan.

As Thatcher kissed down her neck, his hand pushed past her waistband, palming his hand over her cheeks and gripping one in his hand. Taddie let out an aroused sigh and pushed back against his hand before grinding her hips against him, hooking a leg over his hip. He growled against her skin as he tugged the collar of her sweater down to expose her shoulder for his lips. Without any words exchanged, Thatcher ripped himself away from her before going to the roll up door. He kicked a box over the line, resting on top of it, then pulled the door down, gently guiding it to rest on the box before he turned back to her with a wicked smirk on his face.

Taddie stared at him as her chest heaved, watching Thatcher tug off his hoodie and long sleeve as he said, “Take off your boots and your leggings. Now.”

“Y-Yes-Yes, Sir.” Taddie stammered, stumbling into another stack of boxes as she tried to kick off her boots and failed. Thatcher quickly went to her, helping her stand upright. Taddie stared up at him as she wiggled her feet out of her boots, kicking them away, then pushed her leggings down. Thatcher slowly knelt down, tugging the leggings off of one leg before he stood again and took her waist, tugging her closer. She tilted her head back with a soft moan as he dropped his lips to hers, sealing them together as one hand gripped her hip, the other slid down her thigh then between them, rubbing her through her damp panties.

“Fuck-You get so wet, so quick for me, Princess. Wet and ready for my cock--Like the good, little girl you are, ja?” Thatcher purred at her as she squirmed around against him. Taddie moaned his name as she dug her fingers into the waistband of his sweats, tugging him closer. With a light laugh, he added, “I’ll take that as a yes…But, I still want to hear you say it, kitten.”

“Yes, Sir-I-I’m-I’m ready.” Taddie moaned as he tugged her panties aside. He pushed up her sweater and tugged it off before he let her push his sweats and boxers down as he kissed over her chest. He moaned against the tops of her breasts as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, pumping it slowly. She rocked her hips against his hand as she whimpered and moaned his name. Kissing back up her neck, he cradled the back of it as he pulled his fingers from her and let her guide his cock to her entrance. He lifted her leg, hooking it over his hip and dragging his fingers over her thigh as he pushed into her. Taddie arched off the boxes with a soft cry, her hands flying up to grip his arms as she panted.

“Are you okay? Hey, baby girl…” Thatcher cooed at her, pulling his hand from her neck to her cheek and caressing it, gently.

“Yes, yes, yes-I’m okay. I’m okay. Ohh-You’re so big, Patch.” Taddie giggled, biting her lip with red cheeks as she looked up at him, her gaze turning needy and pleading as her leg curled around his waist more, trying to get him to move inside her. Thatcher let out a soft moan and ducked down to suck marks into her neck before he growled out in her ear, “Fuck, why does it sound so sexy when you call me Patch? Say it again.”

Before she could take a deep enough breath, Thatcher began to move, withdrawing and thrusting back into her with a soft grunt, beginning a steady pace. Taddie moaned and rubbed her chest against his before she got out, “Oh, Patch…Yes, yes-F-Faster, baby faster…”

“That’s my girl…Ohh, my God-I love the way you take my cock so well, Princess. Like your pussy was fucking made for me. Only for me.” He growled into her ear, grunting softly at every few thrusts. She gasped and moaned, wrapping her arms under his to claw at his back before arching off the boxes to unclasp her bra. Thatcher ripped it away and took her hips as he sped up, gazing down at her as her breasts bounced around with every thrust, her brows drawn together in pleasure as her mouth was dropped open in a moan.

“I’m-I’m yours. Only yours…Oh, God-Thatcher…” Taddie moaned as he kissed down to her breasts, flicking out his tongue at her nipples before taking one into his mouth and sucking at it before coming back to crush his lips to hers. Taddie slid her arms under his again, one hand sliding up his back, the other sliding down, her fingers caressing his cheek as he thrusted in and out of her. Thatcher wrapped one arm around her waist, the other reaching up to curl around her head as he caged her back against the boxes, ramming into her, angling for her G-spot. He guided her head to his shoulder as she cried out, his tip brushing against her spot every other thrust and pushing her into her first climax before building another.

“Good girl, Taddie. Are you gonna come for me again, Princess?” He growled into her curls, gently petting them as she nodded and pulled her hands to his chest, pushing at him, lightly. He shifted a step back, pulling out of her, but tugging her with him, lifting her head and sealing his lips to hers as he guided her hand to his cock, wrapping her hand around it. She stroked him as he pushed his fingers between her legs and inside her, pumping her slowly, both of them moaning and groaning into the kiss. Breaking it, Thatcher panted against her lips as he demanded, gently, “Turn around…And hold onto the boxes.”

“Mm-Fuck--Yes, Sir.” Taddie whimpered, trying to keep her hand on his shaft as she turned, but he pulled her hands away, planting them on the box in front of her. She shifted and shivered, both from the cold breeze that slipped under the door and washed over the room, but as he dragged his hands over her arms and down her back, over her hips and back before guiding her legs further apart.

“Lean forward…Good girl--Ohhh, my God, Princess. You’re so soft and warm around my cock…Fuck, if I could live in it I would.” Thatcher murmured into her skin as he pushed inside her, beginning to move slowly, and kissed over her shoulder. Taddie gasped, then moaned as she began to move with him, pushing back against each thrust. She guided his hands up to her breasts, cupping his fingers around them with a moan, tilting her head to the side as he nipped and kissed across her shoulders, then up her neck. He moaned and grunted against her skin as he sped up his thrusts. Each moan and sweet whimper she made only spurred him on more, speeding up and thrusting harder inside her.

“Oh, my-Oh, Patch, baby, please-Oh, I’m gonna-I’m gonna come, don’t-don’t stop…” She begged as she gripped the sides of the box in front of her, slowly bending over it. One hand slid from her breast to her back, pushing her down as he slid it up to the back of her neck, beneath her hair. Taddie whimpered as she ducked her head down and moved back against him, trying to get herself over the edge, moaning loudly. Thatcher sunk his fingers into the roots of her hair and let out a soft grunt as they tightened, ready to give a yank, then stopped and relaxed his grip.

“Is this okay, kitten? You know I’d never hurt you.” Thatcher whispered, slowing his pace as he kissed over her shoulder. She gave a soft grunt of disapproval as his thrusts slowed, then she shot a look over her shoulder as she said, firmly, “I said don’t treat me like I’m fragile…You don’t want me to be either--Just ask me how hard I want it, I have an answer.”

Thatcher tipped his head back with a deep moan, making Taddie smirk, then giggle before he sped up his thrusts once more. Her giggles turned into moans as she panted and pushed back against him. He ducked down and gently turned her head to the side, tracing the tip of his tongue over her shoulder and up her neck before he growled into her ear, “How hard do you want it, Princess?”

“Fuck-D-Don’t-Don’t yank. Ge-Gen-Gentle tugs…” Taddie panted out before she moaned out his name as his hand slid down her abdomen, between her legs and found her clit, stroking it. He growled into her neck as he rammed into her so hard, the stack of boxes he had her against began to wobble around. He tugged her head back, gently fisting her hair and latching onto her shoulder. She whimpered and moaned, one hand shooting down to grip his wrists as his fingers stroked her clit as it plumped and swelled with need. He gave a final few thrusts and they came together, moaning the other’s name and Taddie whimpering as he continued to move slowly inside her, riding her through her climax. “Oh, my God…Patch--Thatcher, fuck, baby…”

Thatcher kissed over her neck, massaging his fingertips into her scalp before he pulled his hand from her hair and withdrew his cock from her. She moaned softly, then turned to him, tilting her head back as he angled his lips over hers in a deep kiss. He held her close as he kissed her for a while longer, then he pulled back, whispering against her lips, “Get dressed, kitten. We need to get going if we want to make it to the house in time for dinner.”

“Yes, Sir…Th-Thank you, Sir.” She whispered back. His lips curled into a smirk and he stole several more kisses before he said, “Anything for my good, little Princess.”

They dressed slowly, stealing glances at the other before looking away as they chuckled. Taddie reached for her boots, but Thatcher quickly knelt in front of her, taking it from her and lifting her leg to tug it on. As she leaned her elbows back on the boxes, watching him, her eyes drifted to her hand, seeing the sapphire ring glittering on her finger. She smiled and wiggled her fingers to twist it this way and that. Watching the jewels sparkle, something began to flutter in her chest as her gaze drifted back to Thatcher, watching him fit her other boot over her leg, gently, then caressing his fingers up and under her thigh, looking up at her with a smirk. She giggled and let out a soft squeal as he scooped her up and spun her around once before setting her on her feet. He chuckled down at her as she went to the door and pulled it up, kicking the box back in before she stepped outside and waited for Thatcher. 

Thatcher pulled the door down as Taddie got her lock ready, pulling the key from it. She fitting the lock around the holes and clicked it into place before she turned to him and slid a hand over his chest. He escorted her around the car, opening the door for her and helping her slide in, then got in himself, starting the car and driving through the lot. Once they reached the gate, Thatcher sped out, getting onto the freeway and heading toward Winchester as the snow started falling.

~

Thatcher led Taddie up the steps of the mansion as she marveled at it. It was a modest looking home from the front, but surrounding it were massive shrubs carved into giant P ‘s, ornate stone fountains, and flowers that bloomed in the winter. Taddie smiled as she and Thatcher carried their bags up to the door, where they stopped. Her smile widened as he glanced down at her, digging out his keys and unlocking the door. Pushing the double doors open, he nudged her to go in first as he picked up his bags and followed behind her. Taddie stepped in, warily, glancing around, not sure if she was walking into a welcome or not.

When she saw the grand foyer empty, she let out a light sigh, relieved, then set down her bags before turning to Thatcher as he closed the doors and locked them. Taddie inhaled, deeply, as she smiled when Thatcher turned to her, reaching out for her as he came closer. She took his hands and a step closer to him as he wrapped an arm around her waist. Taddie let out a soft giggle as he nuzzled into her cheek and kissed across it.

“So, we’re here. Welcome to my family’s home, kitten.” Thatcher said as he pulled back, lifting his hand to her cheek. She bit her lip as her cheeks turned pink, nodding lightly. He chuckled and said, “Why are you blushing?”

“I’m-I’m nervous…I’ve-I’ve n-I’ve never done the meet the boyfriend’s family thing…Fake or not.” Taddie said with a sheepish chuckle, resting her hands on his chest then pushing them to his shoulders. Thatcher shook his head at her and said, gently, “This is real for me, Taddie. Especially after the last week--You’re my girl. You’re mine…This is real, kitten.”

Taddie’s breath hitched and her smile grew a little more as she nodded and bit her lip before she said, softly, “It-It’s real for me, too…I-I really like you, Thatcher. I-I like how you treat me, how you make me feel…I like being with you. I’m-I’m safe, I’m wanted…It-It’s nice.”

Thatcher beamed down at her, his fingers slowly uncurling across her cheek, pushing his fingers into her hair as he pulled her closer. Taddie let out a soft gasp and her eyes quickly darted around, stammering in asking her question, but Thatcher quickly answered as he said, “Tommy and Lara are most likely in the library, Tristan and Leah are out walking, and Theo and Luna are probably in his room…We’re alone right now, kitten.”

He ducked lower as she gave a light giggle and nodded, tilting her chin back, angling for his lips, but stopped with a light gasp as she saw who she could only assume were his parents coming down the hall toward them, watching them closely. Taddie turned her head, rejecting his kiss, then flickered her gaze from him to the couple that approached as she asked, “A-And your-your parents?”

Turning with a raised brow, Thatcher let out a light sigh as he looked away and swore under his breath as his father called out to him in Swedish. Thatcher shifted his arm around her as he turned them both to face the older couple and said, “Father. Mother. I’m home.”

Thatcher’s lips lifted a little more as his mother hurried to him with a wide, happy smile, taking his face and smothering his cheeks in kisses before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. Letting out a deep sigh, the woman said, “Oh, my boy. My sons are all home, at last…And your guest…”

“Yes, this is Taddie. Taddie, this is my mother, Tora. And my father--”

“Tyr Price. It is a pleasure to meet you, child. I’ve heard my son has been quite taken with you. It’s nice to finally see a face for the stories.” Tyr said, stepping forward as he put an arm around around his wife, extending his hand for Taddie’s. She quickly exchanged a look with Thatcher before she gave Tyr a polite smile and slipped her hand into his. Tyr lifted her hand, kissing the back of it, making Taddie’s blush deepened. Thatcher smiled down at her and nuzzled into her curls, lightly. “We’re very pleased you’re joining us this Christmas. Finally, my son brings home a woman…Hon är väldigt vacker, son. Jag är imponerad.” (She's beautiful, son. I'm impressed.)

Tyr gave his son a wide, approving smile before he turned to Tora, kissing her cheek, then leaving his wife with their son as he walked out. Thatcher’s smile dropped into a look of shock and Taddie pressed her hand to his chest, raising a brow at him. She gave her hand a light shake against his chest and his head snapped down to her, then to his mother, who chuckled and turned her attention to Taddie once more.

“I apologize for my husband, he’s a very direct man. Tora Price, it’s wonderful to meet you, dear.” Tora said, extending her hand to Taddie. Taking it, Taddie shook it quickly, then dipped into a brief curtsy as she gave Tora a sweet smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am. Um, th-thank you for letting me stay in your home. It-This is beautiful.” Taddie said, half hiding herself behind Thatcher as her nerves got the better of her; Very, very intimidated by his family already.

“Thank you. Me and my husband have worked very hard to have what we do, be able to provide for our sons and their own growing families. Thatcher will take you to his room-Please change and bring her to the dining room? Dinner is nearly ready.” Tora said, lifting a hand to her son’s shoulder, placing a kiss on his cheek before giving Taddie a polite smile before following her husband’s exit to the next room, disappearing around a corner. Taddie let out a gasping breath as she turned and buried her face into Thatcher’s chest with a soft whine, then laughed.

“Oh, my God. Is it too late to leave? Do you think they saw us?” Taddie laughed before lifting her head to look up at him. Thatcher had turned to her, taking her hips, but he continued to stare down the hall, his face still shocked. Taddie raised a brow, lifting her hand and guiding his face down to hers as she said, “Thatcher. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Huh? Wh-N-Nothing. I, uh…I th-I think--It’s nothing. Um, let’s-My room is upstairs. Come on, kitten.” Thatcher stammered. Taddie raised her brows at him, surprised, but followed him as a bright smile broke over his face, hauling the luggage up the stairs. She followed him down the hall, marvelling at all the pictures and art that hung on the walls. Her heart pounded, eager and excited to roam the halls and examine the paintings, but for the moment, she kept up with Thatcher until he stopped in front of a door, letting out a soft groan as he set down the bags. He turned the knob and opened the door, letting Taddie bring her bags in first, setting them down and quickly going back to the door to help Thatcher. “Hey, no-Hey! Woman…”

Thatcher chuckled as he watched Taddie drag one of his bags into the room as he carried in the others, kicking the door closed. Taddie giggled and hauled the bag onto the bed, letting out a soft huff, not as strong as she thought, but still managed to get the bag up. Before she could turn to him again, his hands were on her hips, tugging her back against him and making her squeak.

“I am perfectly capable of bringing my own luggage into my own room, kitten. You don’t do the heavy lifting.” Thatcher purred in her ear. Taddie shivered and gripped his hands, dropping her head back against his shoulder. She let out a soft giggle, glancing back at him as she whispered back, “I’m perfectly capable and you insist on carrying my things…I’m a very helpful person, sweetheart. Don’t tell me not to help, I’ll be very upset.”

“Ohh, well, now, we don’t want that, do we?” Thatcher cooed at her before sealing his lips over hers. Taddie giggled as she kissed him back, turning in his arms and wrapping hers around his neck. As the kiss deepened and heated up, Taddie let out a few soft whimpers and cut his kisses short as she got out, “Mmm-Patch-Honey-Wait-We should…Stop…”

Thatcher pressed a final kiss to her lips, letting out a soft growl of disapproval, but broke the kiss anyway and pressed his forehead to hers. He let out a deep sigh and rocked them from side to side, gently, as he said, “We should change. You brought the outfit from Jaq’s? The first one? Wear that. You never got a chance to wear it to breakfast-Wear it to dinner. It’s perfect.”

“I did…I can do that for you.” Taddie whispered back, letting him steal another kiss before he broke away, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She giggled and caught his hands as he stepped away, going to his suitcases and beginning to unpack a few things.

As Taddie turned to go through her bags, Thatcher said, “If you’re comfortable with it, the housekeepers will unpack for us; Hang everything, put your hair stuff in the bathroom and all.”

“Oh…Um-That’s okay. I-I actually wasn’t gonna unpack-”

“Taddie, you’re not living out of your suitcases. We’re here for four days.” Thatcher said as he stood, turning to give her a look as he went to her. Taddie glanced up at him with a small smile, then giggled out a squeal as he grabbed her, pulling her toward him and lifting her into the air. She gasped, then chuckled as he eased her legs around his waist and she laced her fingers behind his neck.

“So manhandle-y all the time…Be careful.” Taddie teased, ducking down to kiss him slowly as he pinned her to one of the four posters of the bed frame. She let out a soft moan then broke the kiss to whisper, “Okay-They can unpack me. Now put me down before we’re late for dinner.”

“Oohh, try not to sound like you want to be.” He teased, laughing and stealing another kiss as she let out a shriek of indignation before he set her down. He slid his hands down her backside and squeezing her cheeks, lightly, as he added, “Get changed, kitten. And be quick about it.”

“Yes, Sir.” Taddie said, pushing back in his hands. Thatcher gave her a quick swat, making her squeak, then giggle, pushing him away before she slunk back to her suitcase to find the outfit he wanted her to wear. Taddie was thankful he’d told her to bring it, she honestly hadn’t thought to until he mentioned it. She quickly changed and dug through her bag again to find a hair clip in one of the pockets, tugging it out and parting half her hair, twisting it up and clipping it. She went to the mirror on his dresser and picked at her hair, trying to bring a few curls down to frame her face. Thatcher buttoned up a new shirt and turned to her with a smirk, watching her pick at herself, trying to look better, but she was already perfect. At least in Thatcher’s eyes. He chuckled and went to her as he rolled up his sleeves, then took her hips and dropped kisses across her shoulder. She let out a soft giggle and stood straighter, sliding her hands over his.

“Stop picking. You look amazing, Princess. They’re going to love you, I promise. Don’t forget-” Thatcher lifted a hand from her hip, staring at her reflection as he slid his fingers over the sapphire T  around her neck and said, “This means you belong. It means you’re my woman, and you’re going to be treated as such.”

Taddie’s hand slid over his as she nodded, meeting his gaze and gave him a sweet smile as she leaned back against him. “I think I could get used to that…Let’s call this weekend a trial run?” She teased before he cupped her chin and turned to to face him, kissing her deep and slow.

“Hey, Thatch, are you coming down? Dinner’s-Almost r--Ooh, my bad.” Taddie jumped and pulled away from Thatcher as the door opened and a dirty blonde haired man poked his head in, smirking at Thatcher when he saw the position he and Taddie were in.

“Hey, fuck off Theo. Yes, we’re coming down.” Thatcher said, giving him a fierce look and shooing him away. Taddie half hid behind Thatcher, glancing between the men as she laid a hand on Thatcher’s chest with a light chuckle. Theo snickered, softly, then his gaze flickered to Taddie, giving her a nod.

“I guess he’ll introduce us soon-Nice to meet you!” Theo called as he pulled the door closed and his footsteps receded down the hall. Thatcher let out a sigh and turned to Taddie as he said, “I’m sorry, the twins are the worst, they just barge in. I’m gonna remember to start locking it, I promise.”

“It’s okay…So-That’s Tristan’s twin? They don’t look alike.” She said, pushing her hands over his arms, then taking each in her hand as she buttoned his sleeves closed and fixed them up. He chuckled and stared down at her in admiration as he said, “Nah-Fraternal twins. Though they still share a brain, I swear…Thank you, Princess.”

“Still twins, still share that bond…You’re welcome, my Viking.” Taddie said, looking up at him with a sweet smile as she buttoned the last one then gave the cuff a tug to straighten it out. He chuckled down at her and nodded, lifting his hand and sliding his fingers under her chin, guiding her closer for a deep kiss.

“This Viking wants to ravage his Princess tonight, even if I have to haul you over my shoulder and carry you up here.” Thatcher rumbled down at her. Taddie shivered and shook her head, nipping at his lower lip before she said, “I’d never dream of making that harder for you…Send me up early and I’ll be naked and ready for you.”

Thatcher groaned and sealed his lips to hers in a heated kiss, his hands shooting down to her thighs and gripping her skirt in his hands, then letting it go and sliding his hands back to her hips. Ripping himself away from the kiss, Thatcher lifted a hand, loosely fitting it around her neck, just under her jaw, as he looked down at her. Taddie bit her lip with a soft moan, her fingers curling around his shirt as she gazed up at him.

“We don’t have time to tease…Walk out the door so we won’t be late for dinner.” He growled at her, his lips curving into a smirk. She bit her lip and nodded, letting a light whine slip from her throat before he released her and gave her ass a quick smack. She squeaked and pushed him back, both of them laughing as Thatcher caught her hands and tugged her with him toward the door. She giggled and pressed her hands to his abdomen as he held her hips, tight, and lifted her up, swinging her around. Taddie giggled and clung to him as she fumbled to find her footing then turned and went to the door, keeping hold of Thatcher’s hand.

~

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[dadddybangtan]

Metanoia | ch. two

cw: strong language, drvg use, mentions of mvrder

word count: 1.4k

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I adjust the seat on Taehyung's car to my liking as well as the rear view mirrors. The only thing I wish I could fix now is the crooked Uber sticker on the window. I fucking hate that crooked sticker. But I'm never stuck in the car like I am tonight. We drive quietly to the pretty Gangnam city. He's pretty too. I did his hair special because if it were up to him, he would've looked like an overgrown dog.

"You got the capsules?" I ask.

He nods at me through the rear view mirror, biting his lip nervously. He's not confident, but he still tries. It's up to him because, as he threatened, this better work.

"Be careful. Play the part, spike the drink, get the shit," I say, "Got it?"

He nods once and his eyes make their way to the flashy club. He opens the car and gets out. He pulls down his jacket like he rented it (because he did). He doesn't trust himself, I have to trust him enough for the both of us.

"Don't fuck this up." I mumble.

I decide to take myself to a pop up ramen tent close by. It's cheap as hell and it tastes like heaven. It's easily one of my favorite things about the city. When I get there, I'm greeted with minimal customers, so I get the tent to myself. With the small victory, I order a bottle of soju. I eat ramen religiously, however something about a sweet, older woman making me a fresh bowl hits harder. It's probably the raging mommy issues.

Just as I bite and slurp hard on the noodles a tall, slender man walks in, staring hard at me. Embarrassed, I quieted my eating. But he still stares at me. I ignore him, bury my head into the bowl and continue.

"May I sit here?" He asks.

"Depends," The food muffles my voice, "Who are you?"

"Worry about it later." He says, "I've been watching you, Jimin."

My stomach turns. Anyone who's been watching me knows about all of my extensive illegal activities. All I can do now is hope this man isn't a cop or something.

"And?" I feel my hand shake the chopsticks out of it and into the bowl.

"I think my partner will like you."

"Partner? What the hell are you talking about?"

He leans in close, now hovering over my steaming bowl of noodles. I glare at him and wait for a response.

"I want to bring you back to Daegu to kill my partners rival." He says, in a low whisper.

"This is a prank right? If you've been watching me, you would know that I don't kill people. I rob them."

"You lure them in the way an assassin would." He says seriously, lips only parting to make the syllables known, "I see you and I see that you're running Gangnam dry. You need a fresh target, a new location. And more money... before the authorities catch you."

He's right. He's scarily right. He's so right that my entire body is trembling. How does he know all of this? It's as if he snuck into the car with Tae and I last night. As if he knows that Taehyung's drug habits are burning a hole in our wallet. Every single dose is a light bill that's fifty dollars short.

Regardless, the stranger offered me a job as a hitman. I'm not ready to kill people for a living. I'm already uneasy about having Taehyung steal from woman. Not to mention that Daegu is so far away from Seoul. If I get caught up on the other side of the country, my end goal of living there is postponed even farther.

"I have to consult my partner first." I lied. I'll never speak of this happenstance again.

"Ah, the druggie? The getaway driver that's only driving you down a bottomless pit?"

The tremble turns to a violently livid shiver.

"Don't talk about him like that." I whisper.

"Why not? It's true."

"Just don't. He's mine." I shake.

He leans back a bit, smirking. He's amused at my expense. Maybe I should become a hit man so I can put a bullet between his fucking eyes.

"You know he'll still be yours after the jobs done."

"I'm not doing it."

"Sleep on it," He says, "If you're down, come outside your complex at eight a.m."

"And if I'm not?"

He raises his thick eyebrow at me.

"Then watch your back." He smiles and gets up to leave.

"The fuck," I muttered, getting up as well and following him, "Hey."

I pull him outside of the tent and held his arm in my small hand. I'm merely pinching the meat on this man.

"Yes?"

"How much does it pay?"

"A couple million and some change." He shrugs.

I let him go, shuttering at the vague amount. That could get us where we want. In the heart Seoul.

"Still gotta talk it over with your partner?"

He walks away without another word. Suddenly I'm not too hungry for ramen anymore.

I decide to kill some time here, buy a pack of cigarettes and wander a bit. It's a little dangerous since I don't fit in here, but people tend to stay to themselves. They're rich in a flashy way. In the gilded way that's obnoxious. Not like Songpa-gu. They're truly rich. Rich enough to call the police on me just for tainting their streets with my trashy inner city aura.

I'm not big on smoking, really. I'd smoke weed if the shit weren't so damn expensive. The dealers in my town charge a cock and balls for a gram. I'm sure it's because they know our people are desperate enough. Besides there's only room for one user in our house and I let Tae have it.

I find a quiet curb with a puddle clean enough to peak my reflection. It's clean here and I envy it. So I ash my cigarette in it.

"Fucking Gangnam style, amiright?" I huff before inhaling another long, bitter drag of smoke.

I let Taehyung have room to do drugs because I decided that he deserves it more than me. I grew up privileged until I was kicked out. And I was kicked at a decent age, sixteen. But Taehyung? He was thrown to the fucking wolves when he was only six. His parents sold him on the street corner every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday to earn some extra cash.

I found him hiding behind a club building a long time ago when we were eighteen. I took him in even though all I had was a shitty apartment and a low paying job. I figured it had to be better than whatever he was hiding from. He never even went to school. I'm the one who taught him how to read.

The poor boy hears voices and he talks back. Screams back if he's having withdrawals. Which happens often if we can't afford a fix. So I let him shoot up every once and a while. To keep the voices down, to numb his painful memories of the twelve years of his youth that he spent being a whore for his parents' gain.

Ping.

Tae <3

Ready

I drown the butt of the cig in the puddle and find my way to the car. I drive to the location pin which is set somewhere in Seoul. It confuses me, rightfully so, since we were set in Gangnam.

I park in front of an apartment building and wait for him to come out. And he does, walking suspiciously fast with his head low. He places his hand on the passenger seat car door.

"Backseat, babe." I remind him, pointing my thumb backwards.

"Sorry." He mumbles, making his way to the back.

He doesn't look okay. I worry, watching him through the rear view mirror.

"How did it go?" I ask.

"Please don't make me do that again."

Horribly, it went horribly. I bet he took nothing and we're going to end up hungry this week, late on rent, low on heroin. It's going to stress him out and he's going to beg me to buy drugs with what little money we have left.

I catch a glimpse of his movements from the front seat, he's scratching. I swallow hard at the circumstances. Me making him steal tonight is no different from his parents making him fuck for money.

"I'm sorry," I say lowly, he doesn't hear me, "Really, I'm so fucking sorry, Tae."

I'll make it up to him, tomorrow morning when I get in that man's car and I kill that guy. Just one bullet, one fatal move away from never having to do this shit again.

[doctr-p]

I’ve been delaying this post for a while, partially because I’m low key embarrassed to be so upset that a favorite show of mine is ending, but mainly because I am so upset and don’t want to believe the adventure is over.

Later today Adventure Time will be airing it’s final episode and well, I just can’t believe it. It has been a such a wild ride for the past 8 years (10 if you count the pilot). I’m not here to spout out all the reasons why “Adventure Time was the best show ever” or criticize those who don’t like it. Frankly, I don’t even think AT is objectively the best show ever; it certainly had it’s ups and downs during different seasons- I’m here to reminisce about how impactful the show was on me. I’m not sure why I want to do this...but I guess it makes me happy to do so or at least gives me a sort of closure...errr I feel like I’m sending the show off right? It’s the least I can do for all it has done for me. This is going to be a long one so I will spare everyone and place a keep reading below!

Adventure Time came out the end of my senior year of HS and I was extremely excited since I did see the pilot episode a year or two prior on YouTube. I guess the whole premise was amazing to me (especially since I was fond of having my own adventures with my dog at the time): a boy and his dog kick ass through a magical world- originally such a simple concept yet got increasingly convoluted and complex. I never would imagine how much this show would become embedded into my life.

Flash forward to my first year of college when S1 was still coming out. Me being a extremely shy person, I was having trouble interacting with all my new classmates- plus it didn’t help that this was the first time I was permanently away from home. I still remember during one of our orientation events another student and I were walking to a building and got lost. I quietly made a small reference to AT and he immediately started freaking out all excited that I enjoyed the show too. We quickly started discussing the episodes and the next thing I know I was actually coming out of my shell- I felt comfortable?? One thing led to another and suddenly we had a group of AT fans that would all meet up in someones dorm room each Monday night at 7:30pm sharp to watch the new episodes around someone’s tiny laptop.

A couple of months into my first semester my dog suddenly passed away. Now this was a dog I grew up with, he was my pal and honestly my main friend since I didn’t have many in HS. This was extremely difficult for me to handle- especially being so far away from home.. My coping mechanism? AT, lots and lots of AT with my new friends- they stuck with me for hours, even days, when I refused to leave my dorm room because I was so upset. Not only did this show get me through this arguable one of the darkest moments in my life, it also did something else at the time: my parents were trying to contact me everyday during this entire ordeal to check up on me- of course I told them about the show and how my friends and I would watch it. For the first time in years I was able to convince them to watch a cartoon..I wasn’t even trying to convince them, I believe they wanted to watch it maybe to relate? Have something to talk about with me other than my late dog? Or perhaps they saw the show was so comforting to me that it brought them comfort to watch it and connect with me since I was gone? Let’s just say I’ve never been able to convince them to watch any other cartoon since.

To keep it breif (lol) AT had a huge impact on my college life, I continued to bring the show to others’ attention. Marathoning it with new watchers and friends throughout my 4 years there. I had a collection of merch, I even dressed up as Finn and went reverse trick-or-treating with friends (aka we knocked on peoples doors and gave them candy). Quoting the show was basically 50% of my vocabulary (it sorta still is >w<) and I honestly believe it made me more confident in social situations. Heck my first DnD campaign was in The Land of Ooo! 

My next adventure was veterinary school where the show continued to help push me through those stressful and difficult days. At this point AT was plastered somewhere on my daily materials and because of this I often got asked about it. One time in particular I was asked about it after giving a research presentation to my lab that I was working in that summer. My research professor saw my Finn and Jake desktop background and asked what it was and commented “it looks very you, I’m curious.“ I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so hard in my life, especially after a presentation. I gave a brief synopsis and jokingly mentioned we should watch a couple of episodes at the next lab meeting.  WELL GUESS WHAT WE DID? During our last meeting I put on the episode From Bad to Worse because Science the rat saves the candy kingdom from a zombie disease- very relevant to our research :P and then afterwards I showed them my all time favorite episode (still fav) The Creeps. During this moment I thought- holy shit I can’t believe I’m watching Adventure Time with a bunch of highly educated, intellectual people in a research lab of a highly regarded institution- what is life???? It was certainly an experience I will never forget and probably never have again in this sort of setting. It probably is one of my fondest memories this show has brought me.

I continued to truck on through vet school; AT started to get that inconsistent airing schedule from CN which definitely made the show less prominent in my life especially with my increasingly busy schedule. That being said, it became so much a part of me- it was literally instant comfort when I saw anything related to the show. It was almost like, a home away from home. Throughout my clinical year (the last 1.5 years of vet school) I carried notebooks with Finn and Jake on them to take notes in. And even got an AT surgical cap. Some thought it was childish, but honestly I didn’t care. Some days were so hard and so shitty, I just needed something to look at to make me smile or feel even the slightest better. Funny enough, a lot of the clinicians would ask me about the show and some even knew what it was!

Finally we get to the present.. this poor show has dragged on, and I mean dragged on, due to the poor airing schedule on CN.  Honestly it has made me angry that CN treated this long-running series so poorly (and same for SU tbh). I believe this ending is being rushed as there are some lose ends that I don’t think will get tied up nicely. That being said, I’m happy the show will get AN ending and not some random meaningless last episode. 

Anyway I digress, it has been a long, crazy ride. Adventure Time has gotten me through some of the darkest and happiest moments of my life, including my extremely intense and difficult internship I’m going through right now. It has helped me forge friendships and start conversations, it has made me feel at home while being far away from home. “Homies help homies” is something I basically live by now and will probably continue to do so for the rest of my life. I know I can always rewatch the series, keep my merch around, and continue to share the show with others- however it is still very hard to let go knowing there will be no more TV adventures. I don’t want to compare it to when someone or something actually dies, but honestly? It sort of feels like that in a way, it feels like a part of my heart will die after it finishes and I guess that’s why it upsets me so. Maybe the fear of it losing relevance? Bringing it up to people and chatting about it casually won’t be a thing anymore? Or maybe it’s just the fear of knowing there will be nothing new and it will fade away. The only other show that has impacted me so much has been Yu Yu Hakusho since I grew up with it. I feel similarly about it, however I don’t talk about it as freely with random people. In addition, YYH was long finished after I got to watching the final episode. So while seeing the last episode makes me tear up each time, I don’t think it will feel quite like this will. Anyway, I unfortunately won’t even be able to watch the last episode as I have to go to work, but I when I am able to watch it I will surly be the hotest of hot messes. Thanks for all the adventures and support Adventure Time, you will be sorely missed.

[fandomwriterstuff]

Getaway Car

Another plot-filled Rick Flag fic from me! I might add another chapter if this goes over well so let me know your thoughts!

~2.2k words

Rated T

You're the Suicide Squad's getaway driver and you're got a serious crush on their commanding officer, Rick Flag.

You were what one might call a liability in the operation. You weren’t a soldier under Amanda Waller’s thumb, and you weren’t a prisoner that she could threaten. You were purely there for the thrill at first. But you kept coming back for him. Rick Flag. The commanding officer of your dreams, a real hero. You weren’t sure if you idolized him or wanted to fuck him. Maybe it was a bit of both.

But as you sat in the car and eyed up the team sprinting out of the building, you skipped to your getaway song - Brianstorm by Arctic Monkeys - and revved the engine.

“Punch it, Baby!” Harley cackled as the three prisoners (plus Rick) slammed themselves into your vehicle.

You didn’t need to be told twice.

You thought it over as you narrowly evaded enemy trucks and sped down a dirt road. You were technically working for the law, so they shouldn’t need a getaway car, but they always were getting themselves into tight spots so you supposed it made sense.

It was a few minutes of beating drums, wild guitar solos, and Harley’s cackles as the playlist continued (House of the Rising Sun by the Animals came on just as you dared to slow down). You finally looked over to your right, and raised an eyebrow.

“You doing alright, Colonel?” You took stock of the dark, wet blood covering the left side of his face and the way he was cradling his right fist.

“Never better, darlin,” he offered you a signature smirk and you gave a nod before turning back to the road. You were on a main stretch now, paved and full of other vehicles. You’d likely lost your pursuers but it was your job to get away from them, so you kept an eye on the horizon behind you.

“How you always seem to be in the right place at the right time blows my mind, kid,” Boomer huffed a relieved laugh from the backseat.

“That’s sort of my job,” you replied in kind, smirking into the rearview mirror as you pulled onto the highway that would take you straight back to Belle Reve.

“You don’t talk about your job much though, I noticed,” he pushed and you rolled your eyes. You didn’t talk about yourself, and you didn’t talk about how you got into the getaway business.

“I like to have an air of mystery,” you caught the amused smile Rick tried to hide and brushed your hair back out of your eyes.

“What I’m wonderin,” he continued as if you hadn’t spoken, his accent coming through as he leaned forward through the gap between you and Rick. “Is how a pretty young thing like you got involved with a cold hearted bitch like Amanda Waller.”

You tightened your grip on the wheel (hopefully imperceptibly), and offered a light smile over to him.

“We’ve all got a past, Boomerang Man. Mine didn’t land me in prison, but I’m still here working for you weirdos,” you laughed and signaled your exit towards the Louisiana based metahuman prison.

“I’ll get your story some day, sweet cheeks, you’ll see,” he leaned back as you showed your identification to the guard and pulled into the penitentiary.

After you let the three prisoners off at their dropoff location (like a bunch of kindergarteners going to school), you pulled up to the employee parking area.

“You sure you’re alright?” You were quieter this time, worriedly glancing over at Rick again now that you were alone.

“Don’t you go worrying about me, pretty girl,” he pulled out all the stops with the cute pet name and the thousand megawatt smile, eyes warm and inviting. You were a goner, and you immediately dropped the subject. “I’ll see you in the debrief room,” you sighed after he’d closed the door and pulled the vehicle into your spot.

Another day, another debrief with that fucking psychopath Waller.

You smoothed down your jeans and t-shirt, you might work for the (wo)man, but you weren’t about to dress like a stuck up business person, or like a prison guard. You were too young for that bullshit.

“Baby,” Amanda Waller greeted you as you passed her into the meeting room. You hid your smirk, as you always did, when you took your seat. You’d forged all of your documentation upon taking this job, knowing that you didn’t want this woman knowing anything about your personal life. She didn’t know your real name, hell, she might not even know that Baby was your pseudonym. You sort of felt bad that you hadn’t ever told Rick your name, but you couldn’t risk it.

The debrief was a mess. You’d gotten out with the information the team went in for, but two out of the four of them were injured. Including the Colonel.

“Seems like the only person doing their job here is the fucking chauffer,” Waller spat before turning her eyes on a still-bloodied Rick Flag. “You can do better than this,” she spoke quietly before walking out. The others emptied out, leaving you leaning back in your chair, cotton candy pink Barbie™ t-shirt nearly glowing in the fluorescent lighting.

“I think you’re going to give her an aneurysm. She doesn’t know your identity and you don’t follow the dress code,” Rick had his eyes closed at the end of the long table, but he somehow knew you were alone in there together. You bit your lip. So she knew ‘Baby’ was a pseudonym. Good to know.

“She can’t get rid of me, she needs me,” you shrugged, nonchalant, but this was the wrong answer and you knew it immediately. You’d been working with Rick long enough to see the telltale signs of stress. Tightened shoulders, biceps bulging in his uniform, that vein struggling at his throat.

“You should be out there living your life, Baby,” his eyes shot open, darker than you’d ever seen them. “You shouldn’t be working yourself to death for Amanda Waller. Not like me and these guys. You don’t have a reason to be here,” you looked down, picking at the skull ring on your middle finger. You did have a reason. You were addicted to the feeling of being near Rick. You were obsessed with the way he spoke to you, the way he leaned in close when he was joking around with you, the way his eyes lit up when you made him laugh.

“I’m not about to tell you my life story in an audio and visually recorded meeting room,” you finally spoke, tone harsher than you intended. You stood, turned away from him and towards the door, your voice carrying as you exited. “You’re gonna have to buy me a drink if you want to get anything out of me.”

You didn’t look back to see the slack-jawed look on his face as you sauntered out of the debrief room.

You were in the deep swamp lands of Central Florida this time. Not your favorite place to be. You were blasting the air conditioning in the car as Stick Up by grandson blasted through the car stereo, your favorite angry song to listen to. This wasn’t a job you wanted to be on, but you had a contract and you were making money, and you got to work with Rick again, so it was alright. But it was a new team. Harley was out of jail and Boomer was injured from a prison fight. They were the two people you normally worked with other than Rick.

You had a gut feeling that something was going to go down, but you didn’t know what.

“Start the car!” one of the new members shouted and you frowned. The car was on already. But whatever, you shifted into Drive and waited for Rick and Co. to make it to the car. Only it was just the one guy. He hopped into the backseat and stared at you with wide eyes.

“What are you doing, get us out of here!” He was shouting but you aggressively put the car into Park.

“Where’s Rick? Where’s the rest of the team?”

“Dude, get us out of here!” The man was clearly panicking, and you glanced over at the building the team were supposed to infiltrate, biting your lip.

“Baby, why aren’t you moving?” Waller asked in your ear.

“It’s just the circus freak dude, no Rick, and no team members,” you replied calmly. “What are my orders?”

“Get us out!” The circus freak dude in question (you didn’t bother to ask his name), was bemoaning your existence from the backseat and you snapped. You jerked the center console open and pulled out your gun, pointing it back at him.

“Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut you up myself,” you put all of your fear, rage, and contempt into your glare, staring down the psycho prisoner just enough to put the fear of a woman into him, and he backed down.

“Colonel Flag is alive in there, but he’s the last one. Get in there, pick him up, and get out,” you grinned, shark-like at Waller’s voice. You could do that. You revved the engine, put the car into Drive, and hauled ass towards the building. You tuned out the moaning and wailing from the backseat and flicked the switch that activated your enhanced shields. With that in place, you drove straight towards the brick building at full speed. You could do this. You could do this. You hyped yourself up and didn’t flinch when the car made impact with the wall, immediately breaking through and skidding into a large open room. You looked around, assessing the group of men with guns pointing towards a closed door. Rick must be in there. You flipped another switch, this one with a gun sticker above it, and pulled at the steering wheel to aim the guns that came out of the front of the car. When all of the men finally turned towards you, you opened fire on them.

You’d killed for Waller before, usually by hitting people with the car, and while this was thrilling, you’d never had to actually use a gun on someone before. When they were all down, you pulled the car up, trying to ignore the crunching of bodies under the tires and opened the passenger side window.

“Get in the fucking car, Flag,” you screeched, and the door creaked the tiniest bit open. Rick peeked his head out, looked around for a hot second before locking eyes with you, and walked over before putting his ass in the passenger seat.

“I didn’t know the car had a gun in it,” he muttered, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Oh she has several,” the circus dude piped up from the back, and Rick side eyed you before promptly yelling at the other for leaving him behind. You took that as your cue to get the fuck out of there.

“You haven’t said anything in two hours,” Rick finally said as you entered Louisiana. He’d been on the phone with Waller for a while and then writing his debrief up on his phone.

“I’ve never shot anyone before. It’s a tad stressful,” you didn’t let on how nerve-wracking it had been to think you’d lost him, but you especially didn’t let on how freaked out you were about opening fire on a group of over a dozen men. You shrugged and kept your eyes on the road. He nodded in understanding. You didn’t want to talk about it. You appreciated his silence. When you finally dropped the circus dude off you had about six minutes before making it back to Rick’s dropoff.

“Baby?” He asked as you slowed down for a stop sign. You hummed in question, but he put his hand over yours, and you kept your foot on the brake as he shifted the car into park. You looked over at him, a frown on your face until he reached out and cupped your jaw with one calloused palm. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip and it felt like time wasn’t passing anymore.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” he murmured, and damn you thought he might kiss you. He didn’t, though. He tucked a stray piece of hand behind your ear, the feel of his fingertips caressing your neck made you shiver, and he smirked at the sight. It suddenly dawned on you.

He knew exactly what he did to you. He knew exactly how he was making you feel. That turned you the fuck on. He was teasing you.

“I think I’d like to take you out for that drink tonight, darlin. Maybe you’ll give me a good story. Maybe I’ll finally get your name,” he was so close to you, and god but you wanted to kiss him. But as you leaned in, he leaned back with a growing grin.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll get what you want, too,” he whispered before sitting back in his seat. “I’ll grab you after the debrief,” and that was him dismissing your advances until a later time. So, you put the car into Drive and pulled up to his drop off location. Luckily it had taken all day to get back to Belle Reve, so you’d only have to wait for the debrief to be over and it would be around eight at night. You’d finally get a drink with Rick tonight. You smiled to yourself as you pulled the car into your spot. Things would be changing.

[winterscaptain]

a kindness.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: it is loving megan kane hours!! i’ve been working on this one for a while and i am so excited to share it with you!! we have ajf!pleasure is my business at last! as always, tell me what you think!! i adore your feedback. also, if you’re thinking ‘what the hell, tali! why am i missing from the tag list?????’ it’s because i redid it! the link to the form is below.

words: 4.8k warnings: language, canon-typical death, canon-typical discussion of sex work

summary: “i believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” ― steve martin. au!february 2009

a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

You rap twice on the office door before pushing it open with your fingertips, peering inside while ready to retreat at a moment’s notice.

There’s no need. Aaron’s alone. 

“You’re here early,” he says, his eyes still on his paperwork. 

You snort. “So are you.” 

He looks at you over his nose. “Can I help you with something?”

Sitting down opposite him at his desk, you prop your chin on your hands and grin at him. “You stole my line.” 

“Get out of my office.” 

Your smile stays plastered on your face as you stand and cross the room, closing the door behind you. On your way out, you catch the ghost of his smile. 

+++

You watch Hotch leave the bullpen, his go-bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Where you headed?” You ask, looking up. You’re still the only one in the bullpen, taking a few consults off your teammates’ hands by typing up quick briefs they can review without going through every single comma in the file. 

He sighs. “Dallas.”

Yikes. 

“By yourself?”

He sighs. “Standby - not sure what’s going on yet. Can you -” He gestures to the hallway behind you.  

You nod and stand. “Yeah. Fly safe.” 

After you watch him leave, you turn and make a beeline for JJ’s office. She’s here early, too - pushing away the separation anxiety by diving into work. 

“Jayje?” 

She looks away from her computer, looking exhausted. “Yeah?” 

“Hotch just left for Dallas - we might have a case there, but it didn’t sound like something that would come across your desk.” 

She squints. “Why d’you say that?” 

“He had that look on his face like he was going into a room full of lawyers.” 

+++

You lean forward, jamming yourself into the circle around the table with the rest of your team. Hotch, on the other end of the line, sounds oddly well-rested. 

Spencer, as usual, gives you the history and textbook briefing before you get to the actual case. “Female serial killers are a fascinating field. We don't have much information on them, but what we do know involves throwing the rules completely out the window. Signature, for instance. They don't torture or take trophies.” 

“Because there’s no sexual gratification when a woman kills,” Derek adds. 

Looks like we’re all getting in on the pre-brief today. 

“Exactly. Murder is the goal. They don't have to do anything extra.” 

That makes you laugh a little. “So, basically, women are more efficient at killing?” 

Spencer shrugs. “Historically, they’ve had body counts in the hundreds.” 

Hotch, of course, is the one to get you all back on track. “So, assuming that the job is the stressor, what are some of the reasons prostitutes kill their customers?”

Derek, of course, is the first to follow. “Money, drugs, post-traumatic stress disorder…”

The team bounces for a moment, covering previous cases of serial killers with a history of sex work. Emily brings up Allison Wuornos, but Aaron shuts it down. He thinks this killer is organized, not so much driven by trauma or need but the mission itself. 

Spencer looks at the medical examiner’s reports again, comparing notes between the victims. “She’s using tetra-methylene-disulfotetramine.” 

You don’t look up from the same report. “Bless you.” 

Emily snorts. 

Spencer continues, unperturbed. “It’s a popular rat poison in China - easily soluble in alcohol.” 

“Poison is the perfect M.O.,” Dave notes. “Quiet, quick, and the victims never see it coming because they think they’re getting lucky.” He turns back toward the phone. “Does that mean something to you?” 

“Well, at $10,000 a night, these men are paying for discretion as well as sex.” 

Fair point.

“She has a history with them. They see her repeatedly.” 

You look over at Dave, trying to find the thread that connects Aaron’s thought to his.

Before you can really get to it yourself, Aaron spells it out for you. “She didn't decide to kill them in the moment. She walks in with the intent to kill them and she's doing it before she sleeps with them.” 

There we go. 

“So she's not just organized,” you add. “She's also methodical. Could she be parsing out which clients are worth killing and which aren’t?” 

“Maybe the victims all share the same fetish?” Emily offers. 

Derek shrugs, his eyebrows raised in thoughtful agreement. “Both victims were in their fifties, highly visible. Careful about their image. I mean, if they were kinky in the same way, they'd go to great lengths to hide it.” 

“And we're facing a corporate culture that'll do everything it can to keep us out.”

There’s the exhaustion I’m used to from Hotch. 

He sounds weird without it. 

“Actually,” JJ says, “I had some luck there. Hoyt Ashford's wife isn't too happy with how he died. But because every silver lining has a dark cloud, the hedge fund released a statement.” 

JJ pulls the statement from her file and reads aloud: “Ashford died peacefully in his home, according to lawyer David Madison.” She puts it down again. “They're already trying to close ranks.” 

Spencer frowns. “Does that language sound familiar to anyone else?” 

“What do you mean?” You ask. 

“The press release from the first victim.” He recalls, not needing the paper itself. “‘According to company lawyer, Stanton died peacefully in his home.’” 

Hotch begins to make assignments, directing Emily and Derek to the wife of the second victim. JJ’s tasked with the lawyers and you’re tasked with setup at the precinct with Spencer and Dave. When he’s done, you pick your phone up from the table, taking him off speaker. 

“What are you gonna do?” You ask.

Hotch snorts. “I’m gonna see which of the lawyers calls us back and in the meantime, see what I can get out of anyone else.” 

“Good luck.” 

+++

You’re up in your hotel room, getting a little bit settled and unpacked when you get a call to your cell. 

“Hey, Hotch.” 

There’s a sigh. “We got another body.” 

“I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” 

+++

You hop out of the car, following Aaron through the service entrance and up the back hallways to the lobby. Between your travel from your room and Aaron’s wrap-up in his, Derek and Dave beat you to the scene. 

Hotch is wearing that coat - your favorite, the one he’s apparently had for years - with the red lining and the soft wool exterior. It so rarely sees the field anymore you were afraid he’d done away with it, but every time you remember it exists and worry about its whereabouts, he brings it out again. 

Derek hands you a notebook when you reach him. You settle near Dave for the rest of the info. He, of course, delivers. 

“Victim was Joseph Fielding. He was the CFO here.” 

You frown. “Poisoned? Like the others?” 

“And staged,” Derek says. “She killed him in his office and then rolled him out here to be found.” 

“The lipstick's new,” you muse, circling the body in the elevator. “Done postmortem, it looks like.” You find Derek’s eyes with a little frown. “Reid said female serial killers don't leave a signature. I think she did that just for us. She's already exposed him at his most vulnerable.”

He hums. “Now she wants to be noticed.”

There’s some kind of scuffle at the police line - another man in a suit who thinks he’s more important than God. 

Hopefully he’s looking for Hotch. 

“Which one of you is Aaron Hotchner?” 

Ugh. Good. 

You step back and point at Aaron, getting out of his way as he shoves past the crime scene techs. 

Aaron turns. “I'm Hotchner.” 

“Larry Bartlett.” The man holds out his hand, but Aaron doesn’t take it. He retracts his hand with an unperturbed tilt of his head. “I represent Mr. Fielding in Webster Industries. 

Hotch, as usual, has no time for his bullshit. “This is a closed crime scene, Mr. Bartlett.” 

My lawyer could kick your lawyer’s ass. 

That’s a good bumper sticker. 

You shake off your thought and return to the victim, directing one of the younger crime scene techs. After a moment, you return to Derek’s side. 

“Yes. I spoke to Ellen Daniels.” This clown still sounds far too confident for his own good. “She said you're a very... reasonable man.” 

“Escort him out, please.”

You stifle a laugh. 

“No, wait. Please.” The lawyer - Mr. Bartlett - shrugs off the security team and chases after Hotch on his way to your side.  

Aaron stops, but looks inconvenienced in the extreme. 

“The press is outside and they can smell blood. Any way we can handle this discreetly?” 

“We're not about to lie for you.” Derek’s even less amused than Aaron, if that’s even possible. 

Aaron squints at the other lawyer, and you find it nearly impossible to tear your gaze from the little pinch at the corners of his brown eyes. 

You can only imagine him behind a prosecutor’s bench, laying into witnesses with the same deadpan amusement - like a bored cat with a half-dead mouse. Hoping to back him up a little bit, you get a little closer, looking skeptically at the lawyer from over Aaron’s shoulder. 

“You don't have to lie,” Mr. Bartlett insists, his eyes flickering to you. “Just don't comment.” 

“Excuse us.” He takes you by the shoulder and leads the three of you into a huddle. 

“Is there any reason to go public yet?” Aaron asks. 

Dave wavers. “Validating her is exactly what she wants.”

“If we hold back, she's more likely to make a mistake,” Derek says. 

You raise your eyebrows, looking over your shoulder for a moment. “He doesn't need to know that.” 

Hotch’s mouth twitches, and you know it’s almost a smile. He turns over his shoulder, back in game mode as he approaches Bartlett again. “We need everything you have on Fielding. Bank accounts, tax records, emails, everything.” 

+++

“Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats.” Spencer rattles off the numbers with only the barest hint of shock in his voice. 

Your brow pinches and you look up. “Can you even boat in Dallas?” 

“You know, when you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner.” 

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Em,” you laugh. 

She rolls her eyes, still pinning photos to the board. “Yeah, right. My mom had a pretty cushy gig with her postings, but we were never that well-off. But...” She looks over her shoulder, “I’m sure Rossi would know a little something about that.”  

Before you can all get too out of control, Hotch reaches over you to connect to Garcia on the speakerphone. “Are you there, Garcia?” 

“Affirmative.” 

JJ flags him down. “I have half a million over here for something called the Bat Cave...” 

It really takes everything in you not to laugh. 

“...and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is… wrong.” 

Emily pulls a face. 

“Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?” Spencer asks.  

“Yeah,” Aaron replies. “His ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups for the first two, but he did everything he could to cut them off anyway.” 

You lean forward, trying to see the paper in his hands. “Are there children involved?” 

“Yes, with three of the wives.” He hands it over to you and looks at Emily. “Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?” 

She nods in the affirmative. 

“You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans, this amount of money is sick.” 

Tell me about it, Pen. 

Emily sounds resigned. “What did you find?” 

Garcia outlines a series of bitter court battles about child support, alimony, custody, etc. “And even when the court ruled in the wife’s favor - which was almost always - these three charmers just, you know, decided not to pay.” 

Hotch asks for a cross-checked list of high-profile Dallas CEOs holding out on their ex-wives, and you figure it’s not a short one. 

“One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, comin' at ya. Penelope out.” 

The line goes dead and Aaron turns off the speaker.  

“So,” Aaron leans heavily on the table. “Why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?” 

Spencer obliges. “For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him.” 

“They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold.” JJ shakes her head and looks over at Hotch, seeking an answer. 

“Narcissistic, self-absorbed, a pathological avoidance of paternal responsibilities.” 

There’s an odd kind of look that passes over Aaron’s face as he speaks, and you pin it for later. You can already tell he’s falling into a headspace that’s fraught with comparison and self-loathing. 

They bounce around for a moment while you keep your eyes on Aaron. 

“Well,” JJ brings you back. “Should I assemble the police for a profile?” 

Your mouth twists. “I just don't think it's gonna help.”

“She lives in a completely different world than they do,” Aaron adds. 

“And,” Emily pipes up, “the CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it.” 

JJ snorts. “Like I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them.” 

“What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers?” Aaron stands straight, his hands resting on his hips. “They've cleaned up after her, even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman.” 

“Why would they go for that?” You ask. 

“Because she's putting them at risk, too.”

Your phone rings and you answer as you always do, chirping your last name into the receiver without really looking too closely at the caller ID. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

You nod once to your team as you step out of earshot. “Hey, Haley.”

“I can’t get a hold of Aaron. Is everything alright?” She’s beyond surprise or concern at this point. You’re sure you could tell her Aaron’s been shot in the head and she’d probably just hum at you. 

“Yeah,” you say with a sigh. “Things are crazy and there are lawyers all wrapped up in this. Are you alright?”

“Jack’s got a fever - I just wanted to let Aaron know I’m taking him in to get checked out. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll let him know. Give Jack a big kiss from me and I’ll do my best to get us all home quickly and in one piece.” 

She laughs a little into the phone. “Thanks. Will do. Talk soon.” 

You hang up and return to the table, shooting Hotch a significant look. He nods and pulls you aside. 

“What’s up?” 

“Jack has a fever - Haley just wanted me to let you know she’s taking him to the pediatrician to get him all checked out, just in case. I told her we’d all do our best to get home soon.” 

Aaron sighs and flips his phone in his hand. “I’ll call her now…”

“No need. She knows this is a tough one and you’re getting your money’s worth out of your JD this week.” 

When he starts to walk away, you call his name again. He turns. 

“You know - um.” You wet your lips and swallow. “You’re not like these guys. You know that, right? You’re a great dad.” 

His face lifts in surprise for a fraction of a second before he recovers. 

“Thank you,” He says. “Really.”

You offer him a crooked smile. “Anytime.”

+++

Hotch stops you all before you enter the conference room, full to the brim with suits and pantsuits. “Let me lead on this one. I’ve handled corporate lawyers like this before and they can smell blood.” He snorts. “This time, it’s their own.” 

You and Derek raise your hands in simultaneous and identical postures of surrender. 

“Have at it,” you say, falling into line behind Aaron. “Corporate lawyers scare the fuck out of me.” 

+++

“Hey, Prentiss. Got a whip?” Derek holds the leather outfit to Emily’s shoulders and she laughs. 

“Yeah, right.” 

You fondly roll your eyes at them and continue following off Aaron’s right shoulder. The two of you reach the bookshelf - an impressive glass case that runs from the floor to the ceiling. 

 Aaron’s gloved finger opens the case and runs over some of the spines. “Antique first editions on the bookshelves.” 

Rossi quips something about porn in the DVD player while Spencer espouses about the merits of a disposable, adaptable lifestyle in this line of work. 

“Well, these aren't just for show,” Aaron says. “The spines are cracked. Somebody's read these.” 

You peer over his shoulder. “Who reads Voltaire in French?” 

“Someone with good taste. Probably well-educated…”

You pick up where he trails off. “We profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?” 

“You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?” 

You shrug. “It’s a possibility, at least.” 

Just then, the apartment phone rings. 

“Prentiss should answer,” Aaron says. “If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them.” 

You hum, hedging your bets a little. ‘Unless she's calling in for her messages.” 

Too late. Derek’s already on the phone with Penelope. “Yeah, Baby Girl, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?” 

“I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few. I'm gonna stay on the line.” 

Aaron gives her the go-ahead. “Prentiss, get ready to vamp.” 

The voicemail picks it up before Emily can so much as reach for the phone. 

“Hi, it's me. You know what to do.” Beep. 

“...Aaron.” 

You turn your head so fast you throw your neck out. You raise a hand to the crick and work it with your fingers. Aaron’s too busy frowning at the phone to notice. 

“I know you're up there. Pick up… Aaron Hotchner... Hello?” She drags out her words, almost flirting with everyone listening. 

With a sigh, Aaron pushes past the rest of you, silently counts to three, and picks up the phone while Emily clicks the speakerphone button. 

“I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, But I don't know yours. Can we start there?” 

Nice start. 

The game has begun. 

“I thought I could trust you, Aaron.”

What? 

The pinch between his brows deepens. “Who says you can't?” 

“I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?”

Yes.  

“No.” Aaron wets his lips and begins to pace, the gears whirring in his head. “It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you.” 

The woman continues as if he hasn’t said anything at all. “And I thought you were so... upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube...” 

She has good taste. That’s an excellent presentation. 

“...And for a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world.” 

“But I've disappointed you, haven't I?” He asks. “Just like all the other men in your life Who've walked out on their families, Who deserve to be punished.” 

“Did you walk out on your family?” 

His eyes flicker to you and you nod, nearly imperceptibly, reminding him he’s not alone. “No. My wife left me.” 

“Do you have kids?” 

“I have a son.” 

A sweet, thoughtful, perfect son. 

You smile a little, thinking of Jack, but it disappears when you remember that he’s home sick with Haley, probably having a miserable time. 

“How often do you see him?” She asks. 

 “I try to see him every week.” 

“Do you see him every week?” The question is mocking, smothered in dark amusement that could almost be called sarcasm save for its bitterness.  

“No,” Aaron’s eyes fall to the floor. “No, I don't get there as often as I want.” 

“I believe you.” Her response is softer, and you think she might make a decent profiler if she wasn’t on the other side. 

She is a profiler. 

In some ways, you suppose it’s true. She has to read and respond to everything her clients do, say, how they behave. It makes her good at her job and you good at yours. 

Same skillset, very different application. 

“But don't compare yourself to the men I see,” she continues. “You are nothing like them. You're just another whore.” 

Never in my life did I ever think I’d hear someone call Aaron Hotchner a whore. Unironically. 

That catches everyone’s attention, even Derek’s, still on hold with Penelope. 

“How am I a whore?” He asks. 

“You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels you take the side elevator to avoid crowds, while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars.” 

Derek, behind you, presses. “Garcia.” 

You can hear her, faintly. “I'm in on the landline. Triangulating the cell. Give me like sixty seconds.” 

You gesture to Aaron when he looks. Keep going. 

He nods. “But I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?” 

She sighs, sounding a little impatient for the first time. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, you want to show the world all these bad men and my investigation's just getting in your way.” 

“No, Aaron.” You almost startle, her tone escalating to a deeply frustrated shout. “You're not doing your job! You don't want to arrest me, you don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket.” 

She’s crying now, actively. “You just want me to disappear, just like they do.” 

“Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you.” 

Now that’s a tone you recognize - you’ve heard it when he talks to Haley. Most recently, when he couldn’t make it to some appointment or another. It’s one that’s disarming in the extreme, soft, but not condescending. 

“You've been betrayed so many times, You don't know who to trust, And that's why that first murder felt so good. But each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “Am I right?” 

Just like Haley always does, the woman loses steam, sniffling once before answering. “Yeah.”

“Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.” 

“If we met under different circumstances... I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up.” 

A gunshot rings through the line and you flinch, turning to Derek just as the line goes dead. You know Penelope will have something for you soon. 

She never fails, directing you to an address only moments after the elevator doors close in front of the team. 

+++

Once you found Megan Kane, it was easy enough to find her father. 

You could empathize with her mission well enough after meeting him. He’s shrouded by his lawyers - detached and seemingly indifferent to anything Aaron had to say. 

Aaron starts the car and you settle back into the seat. “So, the wall of lawyers strikes again.” 

A shadow of a smile ghosts around the creases at the corners of his eyes. “So it seems.” 

“What’s next?” 

“We tail him - home and office. He’ll meet with her soon enough.” 

Your brow furrows. “Not to protect her, right? It doesn’t seem like he cares that much.” 

Aaron turns, placing his hand on the back of your seat as he pulls out of the parking spot. You’re momentarily distracted as he turns back, spinning the wheel with the heel of his hand and gunning it out of the garage. 

Focus. 

“No,” he says. “Think about it.” 

It comes to you only seconds later. “To protect himself.” 

“There you go.” He turns to you, another little smile threatening. “You’re getting pretty good at this.” 

You roll your eyes. “I’ve been here over a year, Hotch. I’d fucking hope so.” 

You’re rewarded with a real smile, and it’s enough. 

+++

You take Derek’s six through the hotel, clearing the floors and reporting back to the rest of the team. SWAT is in full deployment, clearing the hard-to-reach areas like the stairways and rooftops, just in case. 

Aaron catches up to you, taking the four o’clock position off your left shoulder as Derek breaches the door. 

The gun and chilled champagne sit like ironic centerpieces on the entry table, but they hardly use any of your bandwidth as you clear the room, your vision narrowed by the sight of your service weapon. 

You hold a hand up when you catch the figure on the balcony. “Hotch.” 

He squints, and you move to raise your gun again and make the arrest, but he stops you with a hand over yours. “Easy.” 

There’s a question in your eyes. 

He, of course, answers it. “She knows it’s over.” 

Just then, she places an empty champagne glass on the table where you can see it. 

“I’ll call 911,” Derek says, stepping out and closing the door behind him. 

You turn to leave with Derek, but catch Aaron’s open hand, subtly signaling you from just under his hip.  

Stay here. It says. Stay close. 

So, you stay. You lean on the far wall of the hotel room, watching Aaron hold the hand of this dying, hurting woman. They’re speaking softly, and she smiles at him when she drops something into his hand. His eyes are soft, gentle, not even searching. Just warm. 

You feel for her. 

It’s the best way to go, you think. If there was ever a time you were dying before your time, you’d want Aaron there, holding your hand, telling you he was going to continue the work that killed you, that it was gonna be okay. 

“How could your wife have ever left someone like you?” You hear her ask. 

As much as you love Haley, the same question often floats through your head, and your heart aches for this woman who’s been able to see Aaron so clearly, even if she’s only seeing him for the first time now. 

“You’re the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t let me down.” 

You creep forward, further into Aaron’s eyeline, and sit on the edge of the couch. She’s close to her last breath and you can feel it - so can Aaron. His eyes flicker to you for a moment before returning to her. 

Megan’s voice is full of tears when she asks, “Will you stay with me?” 

You have a feeling it isn’t the first time she’s asked the question and you find yourself hoping Emily will be particularly rough with the handcuffs when she apprehends Mr. Kane. Hopefully he didn’t make it past the checkpoint and is still on-site.  

“Yes.” Aaron is solemn, so sincere, so genuine it makes your heart ache. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

You’re not even sure he realizes it, but he’s doing her a great kindness - one that many would not offer. 

It’s because he is good.

A good man. 

The tension drains out of her, and she grips tightly to Aaron’s hand as she fights through her final breaths. His hands are gentle, his attention only on her. He looks more like a father in this moment than any other time you’ve known him. She’s safe. She knows she can die in peace. 

Once more, you hope you have the opportunity to leave this plane of reality in such safety, when your time comes. 

When she’s gone, he places her hand in her lap and takes a moment to brush the hair off of her face, pressing the back of his fingers to her temple as if checking her for fever. 

After a minute or so, he turns to you, and you hope the pride and respect coursing through you is evident in your gaze. You pull an evidence bag out of your pocket, but he shakes his head, pocketing the SIM card. 

You rise as he gets closer, returning the evidence bag to your pocket. He’s clearly affected, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. 

Opening your arms to him, he wilts into you, allowing you to gather him into your shoulder. His arms are loose around your waist, his fingers wrapped around his opposite wrist as an anchor. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and you’d hate to make him feel anything less than safe. 

You still have a minute or so before they all come stomping through the door to collect Megan’s body. 

“I’m sorry, Hotch.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know why this one hurts.”

Your arms tighten around him. “It’s okay. I feel it, too.” 

A deep, shaky breath rolls through him. 

“She’s right, you know.” You almost regret your words, afraid you’re giving yourself away. 

“What?”

“You didn’t let her down. You’re a good man.” 

His jaw tightens, and you can feel it against your neck where his head falls into your shoulder. 

“Oh, stop. You’ve never let me down.” Your hand reaches up, stroking the back of his head, carding your fingers through the hair. “She died knowing you kept your promise.” 

+++

You look up to Aaron’s office when news of the leak breaks, finding his silhouette haunting the window, staring at the television. 

A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and he turns back to his desk, settling back down to work. 

+++

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[mggssocks]

Followed- part 2

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: regular criminal minds stuff. (please let me know if i missed anything!)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 2.2k +

A/N: Thank you so much for the love i have received on my last chapter!!! It means so much to me. Also i’m going to try to update chapters as much as i can but i’m graduating in a few weeks and i will have a lot going on. But again, thank you guys!!! xoxo

masterlist // part 1

Although he was only going off of a few hours of sleep, Spencer came to work with a pep in his step today. His interaction with this girl was very brief but he still got butterflies with the thought. He was early as usual so he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at his desk, settling in. He pulled out his phone and reread the text messages that the two of you shared. When he finished reading the short message thread, his thumb hovered over the letter G. He wanted to type “good morning” but he didn’t want to come off as too clingy or overbearing. That in fact was the last thing he wanted. 

“Hey Spence” he hears from behind him, causing him to jump and quickly lock his phone before shoving it into his coat pocket. 

“Hi” he turns around to see JJ and forms his mouth into a straight line. 

She eyes him weirdly. Something was up.

“Everything okay?” She asked. Knowing how Spencer was, she wasn’t expecting him to answer truthfully. Especially with him jumping startledly like he just did at a simple ‘hi’.

“No- yeah. Yeah I’m fine. What about you? Are you okay?” He asked to switch the conversation around. 

Yeah. Something was definitely up.

“I’m… fine?” She answers confused

He nods awkwardly. She was just about to ask him if he was sure that he was fine but everyone else started to walk in and she knew if he was being this secretive with her, he definitely wouldn’t want everyone else to be in his business. So she drops it… at least for now. 

Garcia speed walked into the bullpen with a file or two in her hand, not bothering to say anything to the team. She goes straight to the conference room.

“Looks like we have a case” Morgan declared as he walked past the desks and up the stairs. Everyone else followed.

“And from the looks of it, it’s bad,” says Emily. 

They settle in their seats as Garcia passes Spencer his case file while everyone else gets on their tablets.

“We’re going to Wichita, Kansas.” Hotch says as he was the last one to come into the conference room.

“This sicko stabs straight through the heart. They chop off as much hair as they can before shoving it in the victim’s mouths.” Garcia speaks, a little disturbed a little while avoiding her gaze from the screen.

“Four victims within one week. There’s no cooling off period at all” Morgan said, swiping through his tablet.

“Which is why we’re debriefing on the jet. Wheels up.”

——————

After the team debriefed on the jet, Garcia chimed in through the video chat.“Guys, A store owner just found another victim.” 

The team looks at one another. Hotch sighs momentarily before speaking.

“Alright, JJ, you and Reid to the M.E. Morgan and Rossi go to the latest crime scene and Prentiss and I will go and set up at the station.” 

Everyone nods their head at their temporary partners for confirmation.

————

“So on the first victim, the person hesitated.” The examiner spoke factually.

“-And on the other four he didn’t hesitate at all” spoke JJ, trying to get the bigger picture. 

“Exactly. Now with the new victim… I noticed something strange. “ She walked over to the newest victim from earlier that day and the agent and dr followed her.

She turned the woman’s head and revealed a cat-like scratch with three of them synchronized.

JJ and Spencer looked at each other. After they called the other team members to fill them in, they walked to the car in pure silence.

“So… this morning” says JJ, walking to the driver’s side.

Spencer gives her a questioning look as he takes the passenger seat.

“What about this morning?” He asked in a suspicious tone and avoided her gaze by looking out of the window.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Spence, but I know something’s going on. Just tell me that it’s nothing bad.” She put her seatbelt on.

Spencer didn’t dare to give in “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

——————- 

After three days, they finally caught the unsub. The man was purely a sick and twisted psychopath. Jeffery Magnum. A 30 year old man who was severely abused as a child. His mother would make him eat the cat’s fur balls for dinner and when he refused, she would shave him bald. His mother died and that was the stressor that made him begin to kill.

As they boarded the plane, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ sat together in the four seats. Rossi and Hotch sat together in the seats across from each other behind them. Spencer sat on the couch, far away from everyone. He wasn’t trying to distance himself. He just wanted to sit alone.

He pulled his phone out. He hasn’t thought much about that girl since he’s obviously been busy but now he was thinking about her. When he opened the app, he saw that she had posted a story. Before he watched her story, he clicked on her account and scrolled a little. She posted a lot of books and her cat too. Spencer really liked this one in particular.

26 likes

Yourinstagram I looked up from my book and seen this. thought it was a great photo op. 

View all 11 comments

He comes across a picture that really catches his attention.

11 likes

Yourinstagram okay just finished these two Jung books. He’s officially my favorite psychology/ prolific author. Freud’s got nothing on this guy.

View 1 comment

Spencer nodded his head approvingly. He swiped back to look at her Instagram story. 

He swiped up, thinking of a way to start a conversation. He just wanted to talk. About what? He doesn’t know.

spencerreid what’s tomorrow?

As expected, she didn’t respond right away. Instead of waiting for a response, Spencer picks up a book to occupy his attention. About 15 minutes later, his phone vibrates and an Instagram notification pops up. It catches the attention of JJ and she looks from the corner of her eye.

Spencer let’s 3 minutes pass by before responding because he didn’t want to seem too eager to talk to her. Although he definitely was.

yourinstagram nothing special! I’m a pastry chef so I’m just preparing them for the week! 

spencerreid Do you have some sort of bakery?

yourinstagram yup :)

Spencer didn’t know what to text back. So he started a new conversation with her.

spencerreid By the way I was looking at your page and seen that you read Carl Jung books.

yourinstagram you were stalking my page??

He started to panic. He didn’t mean it like a weirdo.

spencerreid I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to see what you were about, I guess.

yourinstagram relax haha I was kidding. And yes I do like Carl Jung books. What about you? Jung or Freud?

spencerreid I’m a fan of both, though I feel as if Jung was more open minded.

yourinstagram you, my friend, have great taste.

Although he knew “my friend” was just a term, Spencer couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face. 

JJ notices and nudges Morgan who was listening to music. Prentiss notices JJ’s act and she gives her a questioning look. JJ nods her head towards Reid who was smiling at his phone. Emily who was sitting next to the window across from Morgan leaned over the seat to get a peek at Spencer.

She looks back to JJ. “What?”

“He’s been acting weird since before we left for this case. Like… secretive.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow. “You think he’s got something going on?” 

JJ shrugs.

“Hey” Emily says to Spencer.

He doesn’t necessarily jump but he was obviously startled. 

“What are you smiling about?” She asked. JJ and Derek watched as he fumbled over his words.

“I- uh-just- just a joke” Spencer cringed internally, because not even he, himself was buying it.

“What’s the joke?” Derek asked.

“It’s… nothing you would find amusing.” 

The three pretended to believe him and gave each other subtle glances before continuing what they were doing. Spencer turned back to his phone.

yourinstagram I’m y/n by the way. Just thought I’d formally introduce myself.

spencerreid I’m Spencer.

yourinstagram It’s nice to meet you, Spencer.

spencerreid It’s nice to meet you as well, Y/N.

After the jet landed, it was only 3:00 in the afternoon. Hotch gave them the rest of the day off so Spencer decided to head home and catch up on some sleep that he’s missed these past few days. 

He knew that it’d be terrible traffic on his way home. But since he stupidly decided to drive to work a few days ago, he couldn’t take the subway. He had to drive home. After about 10 minutes of sitting in his car calculating the fastest route home during traffic hours, he decides to take a way that he’s never taken before.

It would take him about thirty minutes but on his normal route during traffic hours, it would take him an hour and twenty. 

While driving, he catches a glimpse of a bakery and his stomach automatically growls. He decided that he’d stop by. Spencer walked into the shop and it wasn’t very busy. He looked over all of the options while waiting for someone to come to the counter.

A girl soon trails around dusting her hands off on her yellow apron. Her hair tied back in a ponytail.

“Hi. How can I help you?” She gives a kind smile.

“Uh- can I have two of the Danish pastries And a water?” He asked.

“Of course! Will that be all?” She puts some clear gloves on and makes her way over to the pastries.

“Yes” Spencer answers, digging through his satchel for his wallet.

She puts the treats in an apricot colored box, closed with a sticker with the name of the bakery. 

She puts the order in and looks back up at him “That’ll be $5.37!” 

He’s finally able to get a feel for his wallet and pulls out his card, handing it to her. She swipes it and hands it back over to him after it was approved along with his box and a reusable water bottle. He murmurs a thank you before leaving and heading to his apartment, enjoying the delicious danishes and finishing up some case files.

*******

“Seriously, Y/n. There’s so many relationship opportunities in Virginia. And you’re thinking about someone from a social media platform. You’ve never even seen them.” Your older sister lectures you as you close up the shop.

“Woah woah woah. I never said anything about a relationship with him. He’s nice but I’m not going to date someone over the internet. For all I know, he could be from England. I just said we both have an understandable love for Carl Jung in common.” You explained.

“Mom is worried about you. You’re thirty and you haven’t even found someone you’re interested in.” She lifts her eyebrow.

“She doesn’t need to worry about me. And every single woman doesn’t need to get married and settle down in their thirties.” you argue back

“She wants grandchildren, y/n. And not just from one of her kids.” 

“Look. I’m fine. You guys need to stop with the pressuring. I’m happy and I have all that I can ask for right now. When that time comes then it comes but for right now, i’m content” You shrug as you lock up all of the treats in the display cases.

She gives up the argument. And there is a weight of silence that fell between the two of you.

“Alright. Dave and the kids are expecting me so I'm going to get some pizza and head home.” she says, breaking the silence.

“Okay. Love you. Be safe. Bye” you say to her. 

After locking up the shop, you head home and when you open your door, you are greeted by your cat, Luna. After locking the door, you kneel down to properly greet your baby.

“Hey, girl” you pick her up and make your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what options you had to eat for dinner.

You decided on some grilled cheese and tomato soup so that’s what you made.

*****

You throw the crust down on your plate, flipping the page of the book you were almost done with. You were curled up on the side of the couch with Luna sleeping by your feet. After finishing the last page, you were bored enough to go onto twitter and then instagram. 

As you make your way to his dm, you bite your lip, hesitant to say something. You didn’t often speak to people through social media. But he’s already texted first so the least you can do is text something first this time. You were uncertain, but you did it anyway.

yourinstagram hey

You mentally smack yourself as you look at the time. He’s probably already slee-

spencerreid Hi.

yourinstagram i was thinking….

spencerreid About?

yourinstagram I told you what i do for a living. I figured it’s only right that you told me what you do..

spencerreid I’m in the FBI. I’m a profiler.

yourinstagram that’s pretty impressive.

You didn’t know it but Spencer was blushing.

spencerreid Thank you.

yourinstagram you’re based in D.C right?

spencerreid That would be correct.

yourinstagram That’s funny.

spencereid Why is it funny?

yourinstagram because I live in D.C too.

[cosmiclatte28]

Sushi Date! (Dad!Yuta x you)

a/n : hey sorry for disappearing, I have midterms last week and this week I only have to do 2 more... anyways I am double updating today :D

warning : none

a/n again : This is like the second scene after Fringe (though it’s not related) Namie is your first born daughter and yes you guys delivered a second child! Find out who the prince is... oop spoiled it

ENJOYYYYY

this is your fave dad!yuta domestic kind of thigns right? @yutahoes

anyone who wants to be tagged, please let me know :D

vocab crash course : Otosan - dad in Japanese

“Open up,” said the sweet man seating on the other side of the table as he extends his arm and brings a chopstick with sushi to your mouth.

You giggle, blushing from the bold public display affection nevertheless you open your mouth and take in the piece of sushi.

“Aaaa" he mimics you by opening his mouth and you really have to hold yourself back from crawling under the table. Yuta is really affectionate, but you are the type to keep it low in public. Mainly because the man you are dating is a public figure and you are just a small girl in the village doing alright . And you are just a lucky girl who happens to fall in love with him aannndd its mutual.

“wae?” He asks when you slowly kick his shin under the table. Your red ears are enough to make him realize that you're shy.

“there’s many people Yuta,” you whisper and glare at him. He runs his eyes along the room and nods his head “so what?”

“Well I don’t want to attract attention.” You play with the chopstick in your hand. Yuta doesn’t mind you instead he picks another piece and stuffs it into his mouth “No one is paying attention to us. Besides I've missed your tons! I just want to make sure you know I love you.”

You feel guilty but thanks to the banging on the table, both you and Yuta quickly drive your attentions to the little member of your family.

“Oh Kenji-san, you want more?” Yuta quickly refills his son’s empty plate.

Kenji's big smile soon reappears as he picks up his training chopstick and make an attempt to eat the salmon sushi.

“Otosan! Namie-chan too,” your first daughter who already grows up to a well behaved sweet 4 years old tug on her father's shirt.

Yuta looks at her with heart in his eyes and with his father mode he takes care of her.

Yes, your second child has been in the family for a year. Kenji is a healthy baby with calm personality, unlike Namie who cannot sit still, Kenji can entertain himself with sitting down on the floor and dozing off. You sometimes feel bad seeing Kenji staying quiet despite Namie's tireless attempts to make her brother laugh.

They're a dynamic duo, but Namie loves Kenji with all her heart. She was sometimes jealous at first, but when Yuta makes sure she gets the love she deserves and explains Kenji is her brother, Namie wants to understand and helps you a lot on daily basis by being a good sister. Yes, Yuta's absence in the house during promotion era is crazy for you, but with his constant hard work your small family can enjoy living a good life.

Yuta and you continue to supervise your children as they gladly enjoy their meals.

“I love seeing them eat like this,” Yuta puts down his chopstick and you quirk an eyebrow. Sushi is something he really likes, but he only ate a few earlier.

“Stopping? Diet?” you ask totally aware of his food restrictions. Yuta shakes his head “Let the kids have it, I had enough.”

You smile, as you help Kenji scoops in some more food.

Namie is eating like every other kid her age, totally engrossed in the delicious foods that her face is messy and her hands are full of rice.

“Aigo look at how big you've grown! Otosan still remembers the day I can cradle you.” Yuta rubs a loving hand on Namie's soft hairs. She smiles which makes Yuta smiles too.

“I am a big girl! I am a sister now! Kenji is my little brother.” Namie proudly points to Kenji who is clapping his hands as if he understands his sister's words.

Yuta plants a kiss on Namie's head and the smaller one winks.

“Look at both of you having the same smile,” you comment while helping Kenji cleans up after his happy meal mess.

Yuta watches as Namie reaches out for her own wet tissue and starts cleaning up, Yuta's heart swells at the thought of his daughter growing up so fast … he'll drive her to school and suddenly she is a young lady and one day Yuta will walk her down the aisle!

“Otosan?” the small girl's tug on his shirt brings Yuta back to present days.

“Yes princess?” Yuta plants his attention to the less messy girl.

“Help me, I don’t know if I'm clean already…” she hands Yuta the wet tissue pack and Yuta gladly takes one fresh sheet out “Of course, here next time you want yo make sure you didn’t miss this part.” Yuta explains as he wipes the cheek area.

“Thank you for dinner.” Namie mutters to Yuta after they all settle into the car and head back home.

Yuta looks surprised, Namie has never said that usually it was you, but you were quiet because Kenji fell asleep already on your chest.

“You're welcome Namie.” Yuta replies although he shoots you a questioning yet proud look.

Once the car is parked and the small family enters the house, Namie stays behind to wait for Yuta to lock his car.

“Oh, go inside Naemie, it's cold.” Yuta ushers the small girl into the house and Namie is all good she just waits to tell “Thank you!” for Yuta to drive them home safely.

Yuta feels warm, receiving small gratefulness from his children is enough to recharge his energy.

Once Namie and Kenji are asleep in their room, you finally have the time to enjoy your husband's attention. Well Yuta has been giving his attention to Kenji and Namie, but you don’t blame him. He needs a bonding time with them or else they don’t know who their father is.

You snuggle comfortably into Yuta's hug and he runs a finger throughout your hair while sometimes massaging your tense neck.

“Namie really grew up so fast!” Yuta mumbles.

You nod proudly “I taught her all of her manners.”

Yuta smile “I am aware of that; it is a habit of yours that always thank me for dinner and driving and anything else! Every small thing I did… you give me thank and attention! Namie sure saw you do that all the time and thinks it is something to do… which I am glad she did copy!”

You laugh “Yes I am glad she picks up this habit from young. Thanks, Yuta, for tonight.” You impulsively thank him like any other days.

Yuta lovingly rubs your shoulder “See, always thanking me! I should be the one to thank you… must be hard to look after them by yourself. I promise I'll try to go home more.”

His hand brushes your shoulder and he focus his eyes on the dark to notice a patch of neck pain reliever stickers on your back. He sadly smiles and runs a hand over the tensed muscles

“Must be hard right? Tired… taking care of children… I am sorry,” he presses the tight nods away, trying to help you unwind.

You blush when you let out a breathy moan on a good knot Yuta is pressing “Well I need to thank you, because I really am thankful. Thanks for being a good father to them. If it's hard? It is, but your job is also hard. so, both of us have our own duties and we need to do them well.”

“Am I? I feel like I am a bad father.” Yuta frowns as his hand continues to do wonders to your tensed shoulders. Carrying Kenji with the baby carrier while doing house chores made you want to buy a nee spine.

You smooth out the lines between his brows “No, they see you as their hero! Namie knows you work hard for her so she can go to school and eat her favorite foods.”

Yuta feels happy about that and kisses your head “You're a wonderful mom! Teaching that to your children by yourself.”

You shake your head “You are being responsible, and it is a good father image for them. They'll understand.  You- coming home every free time you have is strong enough to remind them how hard you're working for them. You're not a bad father Yuta, instead I am glad you're always trying your best to be a dad.”

Yuta hugs you deeper into the sheet “Is it? Then I am glad you are the mother to my beautiful, handsome, and wonderful children. Thank you (y/n). Saranghae~”

“me too, love you tons Yuta!” you press a kiss on his cheek and bury yourself to his chest as you slowly drift to dreamland.

end

[iceicewifey]

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

i don't know if i have enough hcs for all these moons but i'll try FBJFGB

♡ send me a 🌙 for a headcanon about my f/o, ship or insert ♡

🌙; shay's pants are one of neneh's creations. she always wears them unbuttoned because they're not her size; she shoplifted them from a macy's without trying them on first, so she has to keep them up with a belt.

🌙; she's never been a fan of perfume, instead preferring scented lotions. she almost always smells like coconut or tropical fruit since those are her favorites scents.

🌙; her favorite judas priest album is 'screaming for vengeance'.

🌙; her first car that was truly hers and not shared with her sister when she still lived at home was a 1981 dodge st. regis, complete with a chain steering wheel, dice on the mirror and the tackiest bumper stickers imaginable. think the ones that are like "if you're gonna ride my ass at least pull my hair" and "i'm 49% bitch and 51% sweetheart, don't push it". 💀

🌙; she thinks that 90% of her scars make her look cool, but she's incredibly self conscious about the ones that cover her hands, hence the gloves.

🌙; her and aaliyah got matching navel piercings on liyah's 15th birthday.

🌙; vanilla proposed after the events of sdc; he meant to do it before the crusaders reached the mansion as a sort of "if we get out of this alive" thing, but he either never got a chance or kept second guessing himself. there was nothing left in manhattan for him, so when shay asked if he'd come back to miami with her, of course he agreed, but on one condition: she agrees to marry him.

🌙; something they often do together is stargaze. it started back in cairo where vanilla noticed shay staring up at the sky once, then started joining her. the habit followed them back to miami — there were many nights spent on the beach for far too long just looking at the stars... and the occasional plane because they're in the city.

i'd continue but i don't wanna make this post too long i'm sorry fgbfgb

[dadsbongos]

Not Now

Movie/Game/Show: Umbrella Academy Dynamic: Five Hargreeves/Reader (Platonic) Warnings: none? Summary: Five reunites with his favorite sister after decades apart. ~~~

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Five muttered, finally taking notice of his sister’s absence now that he wasn’t busy making a fluffer-nutter sandwich. Great, he comes back to fix the timeline, and one of the reasons he comes to fix it isn’t even there for their father’s funeral.

Vanya was the first to pitch in, “At work, I think…”

“Well,” he stressed out the first consonant, “where is that?”

“Griddy’s,” just as the time-traveler was going to thank his brother, Diego continued with a small smirk, “Do you need a ride?”

Forcing on a plastic smile, Five declined, “I think I’ll be fine, Kraken. Thanks.”

~~

(Y/n) heaved a sigh, ready to throw her exhausted body onto her bed after a rather boring shift at work. At least there was Agnes, an endlessly sweet woman with an affinity for anyone that walked through her donut shop doors. She sluggishly shoved her own closed once inside, kicking off her shoes before going to untie her apron. All without noticing the intruder sitting on her favorite chair.

Five rolled his eyes, hoping his sister hadn’t magically become a ditz since he disappeared. If he was a murderer, she surely would’ve been crafted into mincemeat by now. He leaned over, pulling on the string light to a side table lamp, causing the woman to jump.

Her eyes widened at the familiar face, “Five? It- it can’t…”

Nodding, the boy gestured to his own body, “I may have made a tiny miscalculation in my jump back home.”

“How did you know where I lived?”

“You always said this was your dream house, no?”

“Well, yes but… how did you know I was already living in this house?”

Oh, after I saw our siblings’ corpses at the manor in the Apocalypse I was trapped in, I went looking for you and found you in the wreckage of where this house is. You looked terrified and in pain and I can only hope you were at peace in the afterlife because there was no way I could rewind and fix it until some forty-five years later in which I never spent a second not thinking about you and the rest of our family. You can never understand how worried I was that I would never be able to see any of you again.

He shrugged, “Call it a lucky guess.”

Placing a hand over her heart, (Y/n) turned towards the staircase, peeking up at the second floor before sitting across from her brother, “You probably shouldn’t just show up like this, what if my family found you?”

Eyebrows shot into his hairline, “You have a kid? That wasn’t in Vanya’s book.”

“Two, actually,” she smiled brightly, as if just the mention of them elated her, “I asked her to keep them out of the book.”

“Oh,” they weren’t in the rubble when the Apocalypse hit, “what’re their names?”

“Ben and Harley,” (Y/n) reached over to give her brother a small pat, “I would’ve named Harley Five but I didn’t want him to get bullied.”

“Understandable,” Five chuckled lightly, looking around and finding no pictures of any sort of co-parent, “Is there a dad? Mom? Another parent?”

Nodding, she gestured to the ceiling of the first floor, “My ex, they’ll be having custody time in just a few days now.”

Great, he comes back to find out that not only does he have a niece but also two nephews that he can’t get to know before the Apocalypse. Anytime he’s hoping to spend with the boys can be cut in half, if he’s lucky - because he still has to stop the very thing that will be the end of them.

“You can take my bed if you need a place to stay,” (Y/n) offered, “If you’re not staying at the Academy, anyway.”

“I’m not taking your bed,” he immediately refused, standing up from the chair, “Can I… see them? Ben and Harley?”

“Of course,” the woman nodded, standing as well and beginning to lead her brother upstairs. Coming up to the first room, she pressed a finger to her lips before quietly and carefully sliding the door open so they could both enter, “This is Ben.”

Glow-in-the-dark stickers illuminated the ceiling and some of the actual room. Dark blue walls cornered in a messy, cluttered room with the ground littered with plastic race cars and Legos. Even with his shoes on, Five could practically feel the fuzzy green rug under his feet. A rather large mahogany desk was pushed into the farthest wall, looking out a window. It was coated with clunky books and paper piles with a new pen every few inches. The boy himself had ink-black hair as if Ben Hargreeves was trying to peek through from beyond the grave.

Harley’s room, however, was much different. Short brown carpet paired with black walls, an abyss of dirtied clothes and torn pieces of paper strewn throughout the room. Makeup was scattered across every flat surface, markers and colored pencils being no better. A canvas to the right of the bed, post-it notes marking over every inch with ideas and plans to make the blank white material into a masterpiece he’d look back on in five years and gag. Posters for various bands and movies lined the walls in a crooked, chaotic fashion. Similarly to his brother, Harley’s hair was black as the night sky.

“Reminds me of Klaus,” (Y/n) muttered once they were out of the room, “Not how I pictured he’d turn out, but not unwelcome.”

Five stuffed his hands into his shorts’ pockets as he went back down the stairs, “They’re cute.”

“They’re about your age.”

“Fifty-eight?” he shook his head before looking down and remembering, “Thirteen, right. Wait,” turning, he looked at his sister, “thirteen?”

 She scratched at the back of her neck, “Allison and Diego already gave me hell. Pulled the ‘what would Five think’ card a few times.”

“I’m sure,” Five sighed quietly before taking the moment to make sure she was secure, “You know I’m not judging you, right? You were young, are young, but you’re a great mother.”

“You haven’t even been here while they’re awake.”

“Don’t need to be,” he shrugged, “I should get back to the Academy, but I’ll come around tomorrow. I want to meet my nephews that I didn’t know I had until now.”

“Oh, wait,” rushing back to her apron, (Y/n) pulled out a small bag before handing it over to her brother, “they’re probably not the best, but I can’t let you walk out of here without some food. Agnes lets me bring home a couple after my shifts.”

Five peeked into the bag, a few donuts that she took from Griddy’s, he rolled the top up before awkwardly nodding in gratitude, “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The door was useless as he teleported out of the house and onto the street. He wouldn’t tell (Y/n) then, not when she already had two kids to worry over. Only when it was necessary, would he say something. Five hoped that day wouldn’t come.

Not that he planned on jumping between Icarus theatre and her home, but he knew he wouldn’t do it differently if it meant his sister wouldn’t die.

[some-dr-writings]

V3 Boys x SHSL Toy Maker

Shuichi Saihara:

·       Shuichi was surprised by how much he had began to rely on you. He didn’t entirely depend on you, but with you life was certainly much easier.

·       Shuichi liked your toys, thought of them as cute, but there was never any he was particularly attached too unlike how Kaede likely would be with a toy piano. Even as a child he much preferred reading to anything else, it was his lifelong hobby. He still cherished any toys you gave him though. However, that changed one day.

·       It was just a day like any other, Shuichi was in his office discussing being hired by a family for his services. Their pet capybara had gone missing and everyone was upset, especially so were the young children who were distraught and began to bawl. Their parent desperately tried to calm them, but when all attempts had failed, they just started apologizing to Shuichi, who to their confusion was searching through the drawers of his desk. He then squatted on the ground, a few action figures and little stuffed toys in hand, making some comical voice gaining the children’s attention who quickly joined in on playing. After an hour or so, once Shuichi was finally able to pry himself from the fantasy land without upsetting the children, his character haven fallen under a sleeping curse, he got back to his client to discuss the job. When they were to leave, the children refused to part from the toys and Shuichi said it was alright for them to keep the toys. Seeing how good Shuichi was with the children and having toys his client asked if Shuichi had children of his own.

·       That question really stuck to him as he searched for the lost pet. He didn’t dislike the idea of having children with you. If you were up for it maybe… it was something to consider. He did become rather fond of the thought though when he had returned the capybara home. He was invited in and found the children so happily playing with your toys. It also hit him in that moment how much joy your work brought, much like how his own work had those children crying with joy to see their furry companion had returned.

·       Something about that moment changed him, made him want to rely on you. Your kindness in gifting him your work was able to ease the pain of others. He began to keep a stuffed toy or action figure on his work desk instead of hiding them away, so he could be reminded of you all the time, and to cheer up any more hurt children who came his way. In a way, all your toys were very special to him now, all of them held some personal meaning, showing you both just wanted to make people happy… Maybe that was why he fell so hard for you back at Hope’s Peak, you both had the same dream.

    Kaito Momota:

·       You made nothing but space for Kaito. Glow in the dark space themed stickers, star and planet projectors, star chart globes, wooden spaceship puzzles, anything space you could think of you made for Kaito. Your boyfriend adored every last one of your gifts, all of them proudly displayed in his room. Kaito always got so giddy when you gave him something, he always showered you in affection in return, Kaito just found it natural to give you affection much of the time, but he was especially so after getting a gift, he had to give you something in return after all!

·       After giving Kaito another gift, with that bright grin Kaito lifted you off the ground, spinning around, hugging you close as he flopped onto his bed. “Hey, Y/N. Teach me how to make toys.” “Huh? You? Make toys?” “Hey! What’s with that look!?” “Nothing, I’m just surprised it all.” Kaito huffed, slightly miffed at your response. “So, Kaito Momota, the man with his head up in the stars, why would you want to learn?” “To be with you! And everyone plays. Humans play, dogs play, cats play, birds play, everything plays so if I ran into any aliens I could make them some earth toys!” “……… Fine. It would be nice to have you in the workshop for a day.” “A day!? What do you mean a day!? Wait… you believe I’ll master your craft so quickly?” “No. Like your training you won’t keep it up.” You snickered seeing you successfully had gotten a ruse out of him. “I’ll show you!” And with that you successfully ignited a determination in him to prove you wrong and he’d actually keep up on training with you… for a while at least.

·       You underestimated how much of an effect you’d have on him though. There were times when he slacked off in practice or following your teachings, but he never quit entirely. “You seriously thought I’d quit!? Do you even know me! I am Kaito Momota, Luminary of The Stars! I can do anything I set my mind too!” He then presented you some wooden blocks he was working on for you to examine “… Besides, if you think that lowly of me… Then I just have to prove you wrong or you need to raise your standards! You deserve the best boyfriend, and if I’m not that yet, then I’ll become that! It won’t be hard for me! Even when we’re apart and I’m in space I’ll still be the best boyfriend! Or husband! I just have to keep working at it! Just you wait and see. If I’m somehow not now… then I’ll just have to become someone more reliable for you.”

    Ryoma Hoshi:

·       It was a day like any other, you were hidden away at the back of the store in your little workshop, whittling away on a wooden doll when you heard a knock, knock, knocking on the door. “Come in!” You kept working for a few moments, finishing that last line as not to forget it later before turning to your guest. “Ryoma!” It caught the man off guard for a moment how brightly you smiled upon seeing him. “Hey.” “So, what brings my favorite person here?” You were confused seeing what appeared to be a snapped stick and some string. “It’s probably not cool to ask you something like this, and during work hours at that, but-” “wait, the cat toy broke again!?” “Yep.” You took the pieces, spreading them across your desk. “I knew these things were cheep, but I thought it’s at least last longer than the last one. None of the cats even play roughly, so how?” Baffled you scanned over the pieces. Ryoma stood beside you, watching as you looked over where it broke, mumbling something about materials and cost. “Think you can make one that won’t break.” “Think I can!? Who do you think you’re talking too, of course I can!” “Heh, yeah, I should have known.”

·       Ryoma didn’t like distracting you from work, but he rather enjoyed helping you with it. It was always so relaxing helping you gather materials, or to try to mimic your movements and follow your instructions, or to simply watch you. You were always so detailed, yet still found beauty in simplicity, everything you made was perfect.

·       “Hmm… aaaaaaaaaand done. This should do!” You passed it to Ryoma, who looked over your completed work. “Thanks. I’m sure they’ll love it.” “Tell Cheese and the rest I say hi and that I love them.” “Heh, I’ll be sure to do that. Thanks.” “Actually.” You stood up, taking off your apron. “My break will be soon, and as boss I can make the executive decision to take off early. I’ll just stay in a little later today to make up for it. Mind if I tag along? Lunch with my favorite cats just sounds lovely.” “You can tag along any time with me.”

·       Life could be rather rough after having served his time for Ryoma, but he had you and his cats, the only anything that brought stability and joy back into his life. It always hit him just how much your company meant in little moments like these.

    Rantaro Amami:

·       No matter how far Rantaro had went in his search he always carried around several of your toys which reminded him of you. One for each of his missing sisters. Something he knew they would like. Rantaro was fearful at times, what if they had changed so much he didn’t know them anymore? If they didn’t like one toy hopefully another would do, the toys were there simply to bring them joy, or to help calm them should they be coming from a stressful situation. Even if none appealed to their taste, surely your work could still draw out a smile, it had been able to do so for so many others, including himself so surely they would still help. And if it somehow didn’t then at least he had them around for his own sake, hugging them close at night when dark thoughts seeped in or when that homesickness crushed him like a boulder.

·       It was not often you traveled, almost always needing to be making something to fill up your little shop, it got lots of traffic and often things sold out so you had to try to quickly restock, you didn’t have much time for anything else, but at least you were happy making toys, it was good. Truthfully Rantaro preferred it this way. He was scared that if you were by his side during his search, he’d let you down just like he had with all his sisters, losing you and being unable to find you again. At least, even if it hurt to be apart, he knew where you were. It was a bit of an unrealistic fear since you were an adult who could take care of themselves and you had a phone and knew his number, but… it was still a real fear which had festered deep inside of him. He couldn’t lose you as well. He treated your toys like you in a sense, making sure he always knew where each was, and made sure to not leave any behind when traveling.

·       Even if it was only for a short time Rantaro would always return to you. Since you were usually busy all you could really do together was have him watch you work or teach him something you thought he’d find useful while making something like teaching him how to sew. Rantaro always indulged in these times together. He absolutely loved you, and though he liked your toys, they were nothing compared to actually being with you. Soon though the search would continue, at least he had more precious memories along to keep his spirits high.

    Gonta Gokuhara:

·       Gonta loved all of your toys! He found it amazing how you could turn a single piece of wood into a functional little car or some such. You offered to teach him since he was so fascinated. It was a long process with many injuries along the way, fingers pricked on needles, cuts from carving tools, pinches, even burns, but no matter come what may Gonta never gave up and continued to learn your art! It was something important to you, and Gonta wanted to understand it, if he could understand it, then he’d understand you better, and Gonta wanted to learn as much as he could about the person he loved!

·       Though it would not be fair for you to be the only one to be teach so Gonta would teach you all he could about his beloved insects! Gonta wanted you to know him better too after all. Gonta would take you out for walks and such to find some bugs and tell you everything he knew about them. He also thought it good for you to get out of your work shop more often and get some sunshine. All his lessons seemed to have some payoff when you gifted him a realistic looking figure of his beloved bugs.

·       Gonta always showed off his gifts to his forest family when he got the chance. He didn’t get to see them often but when he did he’d regal them with everything he had done, including his time spent with you, he even tried teaching them what you taught him, but it never ended well.

·       Gonta kept all of your gifts perfectly displayed in his room, making sure to take care of them to not let them fade due to time so they could last even a little longer.

·       Gonta was a diligent student  eager to learn more, he wanted to be a gentleman after all and Gonta thought that a gentleman should want to understand all things and continue to learn and grow always! He was going to be the best person he could be to make his family proud, and now he had you his partner, he wanted to be the best partner he could be for you! Not only was he growing but learning under you also gave him an excuse to spend more time with you which admittedly at times was more important to him.

·       After leaving Hope’s Peak, when Gonta began teaching others of bugs he’d actually use the models you had gifted him as examples. With time you had only become more invaluable to him. You were the only one for him, without a doubt.

    Kokichi Oma:

·       Kokichi served as a… rather interesting source of inspiration. He practically insisted on being your muse for some reason unknown to you. He’d giddily drag you around town on a whim going wherever. On these excursions Kokichi would buy something seemingly random only moments later asking if you could make something out of it, even goading you into it if necessary. It were as if he were challenging you to think outside of the box. He’d take you to botanical gardens, museums, theme parks, whatever was new in town and asked if you could make a toy based off of something from one of those attractions. You were never short on ideas with him around, that was for certain.

·       Kokichi also insisted that you both play with your toys, saying there was no point in making them if you never enjoyed them yourself. He’d take you back to times of being a child, playing pretend, making up stories for the toys, building pillow forts to be castles and whatnot. Often this exercise would give you more ideas, even some improvements, and all the while you were taking quick notes Kokichi would cry out for you to return to your fantasy land with him.

·       On occasion Kokichi would commission you to make spy gear for D.I.C.E. Toys with secret compartments that could shoot lasers and sleeping darts and act as walkie talkies, and explode moments after a recorded message was played with a tracking device and maybe even a gps to find some fast food place should they get hungry and maybe even- and the list of things a single item had to accomplish went on, and on, and on. They were large requests, but Kokichi would always insist that only you could accomplish this and no one else. You’d usually give in at some point and take on the request. You always had to adapt, Kokichi always adding or taking out what he wanted at any given time, but in the end he was always satisfied with the product. Coincidentally these requests always came whenever you were losing confidence and when you were struggling with a certain skill which would be a pin point in making the toy work such as wiring.

·       Kokichi in his own way was just always looking out for you, making sure your work never felt like work, that you were always having just as much fun as others had playing with your toys.

    Korekiyo Shinguji:

·       Korekiyo always found great joy in examining your crafts and asking you about them, your inspirations you had, if any for making that particular item, why you used the particular materials you used and whatnot. Most everything was anthropology, and that included your toys. Korekiyo wished to learn how you interpreted this era. He knew without a doubt how your craft would be preserved for eons, future anthropologists studying them, and he wanted an idea of sorts how others might see your work, it was all to beautiful to not be displayed in a museum one day. Kiyo loved having discussions with you, about your distaste for the thought of your work being preserved. To you, your toys were made to be played with and enjoyed so the thought of them being sealed away was disappointing. The pair of you could endlessly discuss the possibility thinking of something new to add to the conversation from such differing points of view. Kiyo was in awe and fascinated by your perspective, he simply had to learn and understand it more!

·       When you were becoming unmotivated for your work Kiyo would take you to a museum or even show you his personal collection of artifacts, show you long forgotten toys or others items, perhaps seeing what cultures of the past had crafted could inspire you in the present which it often did, more so Kiyo speaking so thoroughly about it all, a word or phrase in particular capturing your interest and you dashing off back to your work.

·       On occasion Kiyo would even try to study how you work, your techniques and such, comparing to what he knew from the past. You even tried teaching him since to you watching something and partaking in an activity were completely different things. Again more discussions ensued from your hands on approach and Kiyo being the observing anthropologist. He so loved these discussions seeing how differing your points of view were, yet you still loved one another and could not want for anyone else.

·       You were able to learn and experience so much than you could or would not have on your own without the other. In a way, you were perfect opposites, just similar enough in nature at your core, both wishing to understand one to bring joy the other knowing the past for the future.

    Kiibo:

·       Though Kiibo had told you on multiple times he had a childhood and grew up like any other human being you were still surprised to see how fond Kiibo was of your toys even getting nostalgic, recalling times when he had similar playthings as a child, Doctor Idamashi even taking time out of his busy schedule to play imaginary games with Kiibo. He was always so tender with the objects, you always put so much time and care into every last one, making sure each was up to your standards and excepting nothing less, working tirelessly till it was… like how Idabashi always worked so hard, all for Kiibo’s sake. Even if your work was not specifically for him, he still held all your efforts so dearly.

·       Kiibo however had some… issues with your more electronic toys, like the robot dog, or the futuristic robot dog, or the little robot dog, or the robot dog on wheels, or the robot dog with a toy gun attached to it’s back, or the robot cat, or the futuristic robot dog on wheels… There was a big demand for robot dogs and you always delivered them, much to Kiibo’s chagrin, especially when you were testing them and playing with them and giving them all your attention. You’d try comforting Kiibo by saying he was the only robot for you, but that only ever made him more upset.

·       On occasion you’d find Kiibo indulging his inner child, playing with one of your toys only for him to immediately clam up and get embarrassed, his face heating up and flushing a bright pink and his face covering clamping shut in an attempt to cover it upon realizing you had seen him. You’d join in on the fun, Kiibo eventually loosening up and playing again. Kiibo thought it silly, but Kiibo found this fun. It took him back to a time when he was just happy and wasn’t aware of the harsh robophobia the world festered. He could just enjoy himself and feel like a person, forget troubling thoughts, like you thinking he was a mere toy, he could be a child with you and just enjoy your company. Both of you just being human. In a way, it was like you were now apart of his childhood, there for the good times. Kiibo truly loved you, and maybe… just maybe moments like this would get you to see he truly was a person too, so you could love him in the same way.

[kiirokero]

Emacity (PJM)

Emacity: The desire or fondness of buying

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!

Masterlist

Pairing: DeliveryBoy!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, mutual pining (kinda) 

Note: April will be my hibernation month lol

Summary: Whoever invented online shopping? A genius. Whoever hired Park Jimin to be the town’s delivery boy? An even bigger genius.

Word Count: 2.2k

      You wouldn’t call yourself a shopaholic. It’s not like you had an addiction to the point of needing an intervention. You knew what was a dumb purchase and what was a personal purchase. You actively searched high and low for coupons and discounts. You never bought something that you knew would end up in the garbage after one use. You were a responsible shopper. But shopping was like a hobby. 

      You were lucky enough to have the money to spoil yourself. You worked a well-paying job as a translator for businesses that are trying to branch out to new countries while also offering online language classes to international students. Switching between Korean, English, Spanish, AND French usually gave you a headache. And trying to translate a word that didn’t really exist in other languages was exhausting, but it paid well. 

And it gave you opportunities to see Jimin. 

      Park Jimin, Bangtan Village’s delivery boy. Worked at the post office seemingly 24/7 and is always voted employee of the month. Has a smile that’s permanently painted on his face and is as kind as a saint. What’s not to love about him? Besides that fact that his eyes sparkle with the same elegance as polished amber. Or the fact that his skin is perfectly smooth. Or that he emits an aura of confidence and stability. 

      Not that you know, but you can feel it. You and Jimin exchanged few words on the occasions when you get to see him. Simple, “Hey! How are you?” ’s and “Long time no see!” ‘s. But each word that reaches your ears are pieces of gold to you. You and Jimin didn’t really know each other, but you’d like to say that if you waved to him out in town, he’d wave back. 

      Your friend, Namjoon, liked to call you a lovesick idiot. Whenever you gushed to him about how Jimin smiled at you, he’d shake his head and say, “You’re a hopeless romantic and it’s tiring to me,” And today was like no other. 

      “I’m telling you, Namjoon! He has the cutest smile,” You sighed, watching your best friend work on his current project, Yoongi’s car. “I know, you’ve told me several times before,” He groaned, lifting his head from the machinery under the hood and looking at you with an unimpressed look. Absentmindedly wiping off his oily hands on his black stained hand towel. 

     “Why don’t you just talk to the dude? You know several languages yet you can’t communicate to a boy who speaks your native language?” He pointed out, leaning his hip up against the black car. “I may be able to chew you out in French, but I don’t speak ‘extrovert’” You argued back, a sly smirk on your face. 

    Namjoon rolled his eyes with a small smile, “You’re impossible,” He chuckled, “But you really should talk to him. You never know~ He may think you’re cute too~” He teased, dodging the spare hand towel you threw at him. “Stop teasing!” You whined, “You know I can’t, I’ll make a fool of myself and end up confessing to him in Spanish or something,” You groaned, slumping in your seat. 

     Namjoon tilted his head in confusion, “How do you accidentally switch to a whole other language,” He asked. “Trust me... It’s happened before...” You cringed, shivering at the less-than flattering memory. “Well... Maybe you should express it non-verbally?” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he went back to tampering with Yoongi’s car. 

      “I appreciate your advice, Joon, but I don’t think I can even work up the courage to confess, verbally or not.” You sighed, giving Namjoon a somber look to which he responded with a comforting smile. Namjoon went back to work and you checked the time on your phone. 2:22pm. 

    “Shoot, I gotta go,” You said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Why? I thought you didn’t teach on Wednesdays?” Namjoon asked, still working on the car. “I don’t but, I’m expecting a package,” You smiled to yourself. “You memorized when Jimin comes to deliver your packages? That’s kinda creepy Y/n,” Namjoon insinuated, squinting his eyes at you.

     You gasped, “Is not! I’ve just noticed that he always comes around 3pm... and I want to be there when my new keyboard comes.” You crossed your arms in defence. “Mhmm, go on then,” Namjoon chuckled, and you stomped your way out of his workshop back to your house. 

     You wait anxiously for a knock on your door. You sit on the couch, fiddling with the blanket that was draped over your lap. If you were being honest with yourself, you were more excited about seeing Jimin than getting your new peach-pink keyboard to complete your soft pastel desk setup. 

      You knew Namjoon was right about you being a lovesick idiot; you were in deep, and you haven’t even hung out with the man! You scoffed to yourself, shaking your head at the way his smile made your heart rate pick up and palms clammy. Maybe you could take Namjoon’s advice and invite him on a date. Not necessarily come completely clean and admit you were head over heels, but ease your way in instead.

Only problem is, you didn’t quite know how to do that...

      The long awaited knock finally sounded through your tiny house, and you stood up quicker than you should as blood rushed to your head, making you feel dizzy. Shaking it off, you go over to your door, opening it to reveal the very man you’ve been wanting to see all day. “Hey! What’s up Y/n?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, a small brown package under his arm. 

     “Hi Jimin, I’m doing good... What about you?” You asked, leaning up against the doorway. “I’m good, it’s a nice day out today,” He sighed, handing the package out for you, “Here you go! Your weekly package,” He joked, making you give him a lovesick smile that made you look like the woozy emoji. “T-Thanks,” You chuckled nervously. 

      “No problem,” Jimin said. “Hey um Jimin...” You called before he could walk away. “Yes?” Jimin inquired, raising an eyebrow. Shoot, what do you say? You didn’t think this through you.. You can’t just invite him out like a normal human, what if he says no? “I um- What’s your... favorite food...?” You asked, cringing at how pathetically shy you sounded. Jimin’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and he chuckled. “I like strawberry Pocky’s a lot,” He stressed, licking his lips at the thought. 

     You nodded, writing that down in your head for later. Maybe you could do something with this. “Cool, cool. Well, um, have a nice day!” You said, walking back into your house, package in hand, leaving Jimin confused and amused. “What a girl...” He whispers to himself, smile, like always, never leaving his face. 

     You continue to buy little things online just as an excuse to talk to Jimin. Who needs a mini cactus? You, apparently. And that chick plush you saw on Instagram? Boom, it now lives on your bed. Whenever he comes around, you take the opportunity to ask him questions like what his favorite color was or if he was allergic to anything. 

    You were planning something for him, and he was catching on. Sure, your questions were usually unprompted, but he’d humor you any day of the week. He may not know exactly what you were planning, but all he hoped was that it would change his life forever. And it would. 

     You were almost done with Jimin’s mini basket of favorites. A blue basket that held his favorite snack foods, stickers from his favorite shows, and some of those chunky rings he likes. Sure, maybe it was a bit excessive. Maybe this was teetering the line of weird and sweet, and you knew that bribing your way into a relationship was definitely not the way to go. But you just wanted to be nice. 

     Maybe buying things for others was your love language, or maybe Jimin was just worth spoiling. It was probably both. Whatever the real answer was, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted Jimin to be happy. 

     Even if meticulously fiddling with the basket made you want to pull your hair out as the bow never looked quite right. Realistically you know it wouldn’t matter in the end and that Jimin would likely take the bow off after he received it, but you still adjusted it until it was perfect. 

     “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Joon,” You sighed as you heard Namjoon hysterically laughing on the other side of the phone. “You’re going to bribe him into going on a date with you?” He asked, out of breath. “No! I just want to be nice,” You bit back, rolling your eyes even if Namjoon couldn’t see you. “Wow, the irony of Jimin delivering the gifts that your going to end up giving back,” Namjoon chuckled, finally calming down. 

     “Look, I’m just trying to follow your advice,” You whined, finally giving up on the navy blue bow and leaving it be. “True, I was thinking about a banner or something though. Like a cheesy promposal,” Namjoon said, and you could hear the undertones in his words. What he really wanted to say was, “How dramatic could you be? This is too much honey,” 

     Groaning, you flopped down on your couch, mumbling into the cushions. “I think I’m going to give it to him today, I have another mini cactus coming today,” You said, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness swirl in your stomach at the thought of finally asking the man you’ve been pining over out on a date. “That’s great! He’ll definitely say yes,” Namjoon said excitedly, trying to keep your fragile spirits intact. Knowing that if anything goes wrong, you’ll chicken out immediately. 

     “Yeah, I can do this,” You smiled, looking at the clock on your oven. “It’s 2:30, I have to go prepare. I’ll call you after!” You said, exchanging your goodbyes with Namjoon and hanging up the phone to go clean yourself up a little bit. 

    You weren’t terribly worried about your appearance. Jimin had seen you in coffee stained sweats and hoodies. There wasn’t anything worse than that. So you opted for a simple t-shirt and legging combo, washing your face and touching up your hair a bit. “Now to wait,” You whispered to yourself as you sat on the couch with the basket in your lap. 

     While you waited on the couch for Jimin to arrive, you looked at the mini cactus that sat on your coffee table and chuckled. Usually you bought things that may seem random to an outside person. A mouse that looks like a cat's paw, a throw pillow that doubles as a blanket, random earrings. But never a mini cactus. 

     After you asked all the questions you could think of and bought everything that you thought Jimin would like, you didn’t have an excuse to keep seeing Jimin. So, like a normal person, you bought little knickknacks. Hence the mini cactus and it’s new friend that’s on the way today. 

Knock knock knock

“Well, your new buddy’s here lil’ cactus dude,” 

     Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked over to the door, hiding the basket behind your back. “Hello, Y/n,” Jimin smiled as you opened the door for him. “Hey,” You smiled back, tightening your grip on the basket behind you. “Here you go, another odd stationary?” Jimin guessed as he held out the package for you and you took it with one hand, placing it down behind the door.

      “I guess you could say that,” You chuckled, nervously shifting on your feet. “Speaking of... I have something for you,” You mumbled, but loud enough for Jimin to hear. “Is it another impromptu question? You haven’t asked one in awhile,” He chuckled, his cute eyes upturning into crescents.

“Close your eyes to find out,” You said.

“Close my eyes? Is this the part where you murder me?” Jimin teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes. 

“No... just close them,” You whined. 

      “Alright, I’ll close them,” Jimin relented, closing his eyes at your request. Taking another shaky deep breath, you took the basket out from behind your back and held it in front of you. “Open...” You whispered. 

      Once Jimin opened his eyes, he let out a cute gasp, eyes lighting up at the sign of the gift. “W-What’s this?” He asked, looking up at you with a huge smile on his face. “It’s um, all your favorites. Jimin’s basket of favorites,” You declared, holding the basket out for Jimin to take, which he happily did. “Y/n, this is amazing. What’s the special occasion?” He asked, looking down at the assorted gifts and snacks. 

      “You’re always making me smile, so I wanted to return the favor,” You shrugged in an attempt to look casual about it. “Really? I make you smile?” Jimin smirked, making your cheeks heat up. “Y-Yeah you do...” You admitted, kicking at the rocks on your porch. “You’re such a sweet girl, Y/n, cute too,” Jimin whispered to you, causing your breath to hitch. 

“C-Cute?” 

“Yep, you’re a cutie,” Jimin said, booping your nose.

“Would you um... Let this cutie ask you out to lunch?” You asked. 

“Most definitely,”

“Park Jimin, do you want to grab lunch sometime?”

“It’s a date, cutie,”