Wait Omg the thought of bau!reader and Aaron being secretly married but reader forgetting to take their ring off?? (Opposite to Spencer’s LOL). Everyone instantly zeroes in on it like ?????
You're not sure why you're on the receiving end of Prentiss's cheshire cat grin, but she's somewhat of an office prankster, so you assume that when you open the top drawer of your desk, a rubber band will fly out and whack you in the forehead. When no such thing happens, and JJ greets you with her own wide-eyed smile, you know something's wrong.
You retrieve the handheld mirror that you keep stashed away in your purse, trying to appear nonchalant as you glance over your face for any possible makeup smears. There's no smudges of eyeliner down your cheeks, mascara isn't dotted on your eyelid, and your lipstick is perfectly lined around your mouth; nothing is wrong.
You reach up to flick a wayward strand of hair away from your eyes, nothing big enough to attract the stares you're getting, but undesirable nonetheless. When you do you catch the glint of your wedding ring in the fluorescent lights of the bullpen, and your stomach drops.
That's not supposed to be there.
You snap the mirror closed and slide the ring off of your hand but it's too late, and both girls are snickering at your piss-poor attempt at concealment.
"Sooo," JJ hums, leaning over her desk with her chin propped on her hand, "When were you gonna tell us about that?"
"It's just a ring," You scoff, shoving it into the depths of your purse. You'll regret that later, when you're digging through napkins and lotion to find it, but for now evasion is key.
"Please," Emily scoffs, "That rock looks like it could pay my rent five times over. Are you seriously married?"
"No!" You gush, and you're sure they regret phrasing it as a question, because it gave you the opportunity to lie in answer, "No, I am not married, it's just a regular ring."
"Yeah, that's why you hid it from us," JJ drawls, "Morgan, did you know about this?"
"What?" The man's head pops up from his desk, "What do I know?"
"JJ, please-" You beg, but Prentiss is the one who answers, "Y/N's hitched!"
Derek's brows shoot comically high on his face, "Married-hitched?"
"No! I just wear rings sometimes," You insist, "Guys, I'm not married, this is ridiculous!"
"No one wears a ring that big unless it comes from a man who's equally endowed," Prentiss winks, that devilish grin on her face ever-present, "Come on, don't make Penelope deep dive, who's the lucky man?"
"What am I deep-diving for?" Garcia peers around the corner of the kitchenette, and you shoot Rossi a pleading look where he stands behind her. He'd been on his way back to his office, but apparently your drama has piqued his interest.
"She's married." Derek jerks a thumb at you, and it actually drops Garcia's jaw; you've always delighted in how cartoonish her reactions could be. Now, though, it provides enough silence for Rossi to speak, setting one of his hands on Penelope's shoulders.
"Don't waste your talents, Penelope. You don't need a deep dive to figure it out."
"Dave," You start, your voice sharp, but JJ cuts you off.
"Come on, you told Rossi before you told us?"
"She didn't tell me," Dave shakes his head, amusement glimmering in his eyes. You know he's absolutely ecstatic to be the one to let the cat out of the bag, and you resign yourself to slumping back in your chair as he changes the BAU forever more with two meager words: "Hotch did."
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Some of my random pjo headcanons
-piper is a graphic liner girly, you cant convince me otherwise. She will try some creative designs and experiment with colors. If you want to have a perfect liquid eyeliner, shes the one to go to. However, she cannot do eyeshadow.
-jason gifted piper a necklace with a bolt and piper gifted jason a bracelet with a heart. They did this while they were dating so that no matter what happenned to them, they will know that what they have was real and not made up. After jasons death piper refuses to take the necklace off and always wears it in his memory.(this is cheessy as fuck but i did it in my drawing and now this is my thought process)
-if an aphrodite kid is charmspeaking, their eyes will turn sighlty pink, or like have a subtle glint in their eyes.
-thalia also does make up, but very very out there, heavy eyeliner, black eyeshadow, the opposite of subtle. She also is the go to person to give you piercings. She did most of the one she has herself
-percy is the type of guy to have a disposable camera and just take photos of everything(annabeth) and make a photo album
-rachel makes jewelery, mostly rings and charm bracelets
-frank has a very active letterboxd account. He loves wes anderson and his four favorite movies are grand hotel budapest, how to train your dragon, knives out and spiderman into the spiderverse.
-in adition to this he goes on and on about movies and the cinematography and hazel loves to hear him rant about it.
-hazel is the best at finding the perfect seats to a concert. Shes the one fighting for her life in the front lines to get the best seats and somehow she always does.
-grover is an excellent cook. Whatever you want, he can make it. Also, he bakes something for everyone of percys birthdays, trying different things each year.
Thats all for now
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How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?
<3 fem, 1k
“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand.
“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask.
James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?”
“You’re supposed to be helping.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.”
You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs.
“You know better than I do,” James says.
You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing.
“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus.
“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.”
“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root.
“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle.
“James, I’m tapping out.”
James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.”
“What did you want?” Remus asks you.
“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.”
“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.”
James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.”
Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.”
They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids.
“Be gentler,” Remus whispers.
James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?”
“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer.
“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?”
“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask.
James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.”
Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up.
“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”
You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket.
“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.”
The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel.
“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.”
“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward.
“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.”
Commotion from the front seat.
“James–” Remus warns.
“What? I want to watch.”
“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly.
“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.”
“James.”
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requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!
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