#so anyone who replies can lean into some canon stuff!!

[dandelark]

OPEN.

“you should eat something.” he’s stern, but his voice is still gentle. they may be sitting down, (because he had gotten them a chair and asked), but he isn’t. he’s moving around cabinets, trying to decide on what to offer them. he defaults on a new loaf of bread. so he cuts a piece off, offering it out to them. when they take it, he can then finally sit. “are you alright?”

[themultifanshipper]

🟢 for Jenson button x reader? during his brawn days

It was a well-known fact that Jenson Button was a whore.

Which is something that infuriated you to no end as his PR manager.

Warnings: smut, PinMultipleVs sex, oral (jenson knows how to use his mouth, it's canon trust me bro), forced voyeurism (hear me out), sex tape, Jenson has a thing for begging, a lot of dirty talk, it's kind of cringe maybe? Idk you be the judge

2.9k words, and about ⅓ of that is fuck/fucking lmao

Requested from my prompt list

You'd never caught him really doing anything, which was a blessing.

Usually you'd let yourself into his hotel room in the morning because he was late (you always had a spare key for this exact reason) and find him in bed with someone (the number and gender of the persons will remain redacted).

You'd have to politely wake them up and tell them to leave, then give Jenson an earful about how he couldn't afford a bad rep now that he was leading a championship.

It was a familiar routine, he’d run around his room trying to gather his stuff, sometimes having slipped some underwear on, sometimes not, and winking at you cheekily the whole time.

He was hot, there was no denying that. His body was lean but toned from the hours he would put in at the gym, and doing… other activities. And that fucking smile would have swept you off your feet had you not been his PR manager.

But you were his PR manager, so anything happening between you two was a big no no.

However that didn’t stop your mind wandering. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to be with him.

You’d heard stories and rumours about how good he was. And you’d heard proof of it too, whenever you had a room next to his in the hotel, or when you’d stop outside his driver’s room door listening to the high pitched moans of whichever paddock pass-gifted model was there that week.

And they weren’t fake. You could tell the difference.

Which is why today, you’d strolled into his driver’s room without knocking, because you’d listened in and heard only silence.

You only realised your mistake once your eyes landed on him, on his single bed with a model on all fours, taking his hard thrusts with a makeshift gag that looked suspiciously like one of his shirts.

It was completely muffling the poor girl’s moans, tears running down her cheeks as Jenson pounded into her.

“Jenson!” you hissed, quickly shutting the door behind you. “Anyone could have walked in!”

He wasn’t deterred in the slightest and he just kept going while he replied.

“Well I’m glad it was you, then, because you can’t get me fired”

The fact that he was still balls deep in the woman, who’s arms had buckled and was now face down on the small bed, was rendering you almost speechless.

You’d never actually caught him in the act before, and it was quite a sight to behold. His muscles bulged with his rough movements and there was a deep blush on his neck and chest.

You refused to look at his dick, you feared that if you did, you might never look away.

“Jenson, stop this! I’m serious, we need to talk about that disaster of a practice session!”

He just chuckled and carried on.

“Jenson!”

“Okay fine! Just give me a minute to make her come, I never let a girl leave unsatisfied…”

Your jaw dropped at his audacity. What the fuck.

He leaned over her, mouthing at her neck while one of his hands went down to circle her clit roughly.

“You going to come for me sweetheart? Going to come so that this lovely woman can kick you out and yell at me for fucking you where anyone could see us?”

You saw red and the woman saw white, you clenching your fists as you held back from swinging at the man, her cunt clenching around Jenson as she wailed into the gag.

Needless to say the girl didn’t stay very long after that…

And Jenson had the decency to look slightly afraid as you screamed at him for the next half an hour.

He’d never seen you this angry, rage seeping through your every pore at the fact that he was careless and reckless, and quite frankly irredeemable in terms of PR. And you told him that you wished that you’d been hired by any other driver. Yes, even Sebastian fucking Vettel, because at least he hides the fact that he’s a complete whore!

You didn’t speak to him much over the next few days.

The truth is you were angry. So angry, at him for being a dickhead, but most importantly at your brain for replaying the whole thing over and over again.

The image of his strong body pounding into that woman… you shuddered. You didn’t even know her name, and you were fairly sure Jenson didn’t either, the sexy bastard.

You knew you had been a bit harsh with him, but part of you hoped he would take your words as a kick in the arse and change his ways.

Well… you were sadly mistaken.

A few days later he knocked on the door of your office with the kind of news that no PR manager ever wants to hear.

“You fucking what?!” you shouted angrily.

He flinched and ducked as you threw a book that was lying on your desk at him.

“A fucking sex tape?! You twat!” you paced around your office as he cowered on the couch.

“Could you be any more of a fucking idiot? What were you thinking?”

He picked at the skin of his nails. “I wasn’t thinking…”

You halted in front of him. “You can fucking say that again!”

You paced some more while he explained the whole situation.

A few months ago he’d filmed himself fucking his ex and now she was hungry for money and was blackmailing him. Unfortunately he had ignored all previous threats, and the video was now trending on Pornhub.

You sat at your desk with your head in your hands as you tried not to cry.

“Show me” you said dejectedly after a few minutes of silent thinking.

“What?”

You sighed. “Show me” you got up and motioned to your seat. “Find it and show me. I need to know what I’m dealing with here. Maybe there’s a way of pretending it isn’t you or something”

He looked almost sheepish as he shuffled over and hovered in front of the seat.

“Are you sure? I uhm….”

“Oh I’m sorry” you snarled sarcastically, “would you rather I didn’t see it? Are you shy now? You weren’t shy when you fucked that other woman in front of me, now sit the fuck down and find me the fucking tape, Jenson!”

He sat down and did as he was told, for once, and the thumbnail was enough to make you groan.

“Really Jenson? In your race suit? For fuck’s sake!”

You clicked on it angrily, barely registering the title “F1 driver makes me beg for his cock before bending me over his car”

The first part wasn’t too bad. And by not too bad, I mean his face wasn’t in it, but he was yapping non-stop dirty talk at the woman rubbing herself over his suit-clad thigh.

Voices can be manipulated, you thought. Voices can be imitated.

Voices can also be low and husky and make you want to drop to your knees when they say “Beg for it baby. Show me how bad you want it. You’re not getting my cock until you beg for it…”

Right. Whatever. There was still hope blooming in your chest (and other things blooming elsewhere).

The hopes were quashed however when he finally took the suit off.

His tattoos. His fucking tattoos. They were obvious to anyone who’ ever seen Jenson shirtless, which was anyone from fans, to every single f1 employee, to his mother, to his thousands of hookups. (You were barely exaggerating for effect, but the point still stood).

And then your eyes drifted down into dangerous territory.

Territory as yet undiscovered by your hungry gaze.

His cock. You’d seen it soft, sure, that was nothing to write home about. But for the first time you were seeing it hard and leaking onto his stomach.

Then the scene cut and another problem came up as it changed to something else.

He was now holding the camera, filming himself splitting open the woman’s cunt while she was indeed, bent over the hood of his car.

His very fucking recognisable car, a bright yellow fucking Ferrari.

Your brain only spent about a second on the car however because the angle of the camera quickly changed again.

He’d propped it up against the windshield and now his full fucking upper body was in in view, tattoos and all, and his full stupid fucking face.

His face that was a quite a sight at that moment. He was biting his lip, frowning in concentration as he pounded into the woman who was all but drooling onto the hood, trying and failing to find purchase on the smooth surface as she begged for release.

Fuck he looked good, letting out little whiny sounds every time he buried himself to the hilt.

It was enough to make a grown woman wet.

You realised a beat too late that you’d been staring at Jenson way too long when you felt the real Jenson turn towards you in your peripheral vision.

“Is this fucking turning you on?” he asked, half in awe, half mocking.

You scoffed and straightened up. “Of course not, don’t be ridiculous”

You turned away pretending to be busy with something on the desk.

“You were rubbing your thighs together and basically drooling over the video” he was so fucking  smug.

A smug, hot fucking prick of a man.

“No I wasn’t” you denied it but in your heart you knew it was probably true.

“Prove it, then” he stood up from the chair and stalked towards you, eyes full of challenge.

You crossed your arms in defiance, “and how on earth am I supposed to do that?”

You were backed up against your own desk, feeling caged in and small next to his impressive build.

His hand landed on your thigh as he smirked at you, only inches separating your bodies.

“Only one sure way to find out…” his hand trailed up the inside of your thigh, under your skirt and ghosted over your underwear.

“Jenson… we can’t be doing this” you looked up at him, eyes wide as his fingers dipped under your waistband.

“No one has to know… It’ll be our little secret” he whispered, body coming closer and forcing you to lean back and spread your legs to accommodate him.

Your body trembled as his fingers inched towards where you needed him most, briefly making contact with your clit before sliding through your folds.

“Just as I thought…” he growled in your ear. “Fucking soaked.”

His fingers retracted and he pulled them out of your underwear to tap them against your bottom lip.

“Open your mouth, taste how much you want me”

You did as you were told and the taste of yourself on his fingers was enough to fry your brain completely as you sucked them clean.

 “Good girl” he said, and sank down to his knees between your legs, looking up at you with that devilish smirk.

“Now let's try this again. Did it turn you on seeing me bend that woman over and stuff her full until she cried?”

You were too desperate to argue. You could have agreed to absolutely anything in that moment, with your bare drooling cunt inches away from Jenson's hungry gaze.

“Yes Jenson. It did turn me on”

He smiled, genuinely surprised that you were giving in so easily.

“And are you going to be a good girl and beg me to do the same to you?”

Your thighs tensed as butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, his hands keeping you in place and spread open for him.

You let out a huffed whine.

“Yes, Jenson”

“Then I'd better get to work...”

And with that he slid your underwear to the side and dived into your wetness, tongue first.

It was so messy, but so good as he basically made out with your cunt, his tongue exploring every inch of your skin while he slurped up your juices noisily.

He sucked on your clit and you let out a shudder, hands coming to tangle in his hair as you guided him.

He slid a couple of fingers inside you and hummed against your clit, the vibration making you whine as you got closer to an orgasm.

“Jenson, I’m so close-“

“Beg for it” he mumbled into your skin. “Beg for it or I'll leave you here dripping all over your desk”

“Please Jenson, fuck- Please let me cum. I'll do anything please, please, please!”

The closer you got the higher pitched your pleas became, desperation too great to be embarrassed.

But just as you got to the brink of ecstasy, your release was snatched away as he retreated and stood up, cupping your jaw to tilt your head upwards.

“The only way you're coming is on my cock, darling” he patted your cheek sympathetically “And you’re going to have to do better than that if you want it”

He took a step back and looked at you, waiting to see what you would do.

You looked at his pants where an impressive bulge had formed, and your mind went back to the video.

You gulped, turned around slowly and bent over, elbows making contact with the surface and your fingers gripped the edge as your body shook with need.

“Please, please fuck me Jenson. I need your cock inside me. Fuck me until I can't remember my name, please.”

How could he refuse when you were asking so politely.

You felt the heat of his hands on your back before they slid lower to cup the flesh of your ass and squeeze.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby” he pulled up your skirt and peeled off your now dripping underwear before removing his own layers to free his cock. “And you're going to come on my cock like a good girl aren't you?”

You nodded desperately as he rubbed himself through your folds to spread the wetness, head catching on your hole every now and then.

“Please, I need you” you spread your legs wider and he bit his lip at your submissiveness.

He pushed just an inch in to start, then slid in more on every shallow thrust until he was fully inside you and you both let out a breath.

“Fuck” “Fuck”

He was more affected than he thought he'd be and he had to hold your hips down to stop you squirming and potentially ending this far too early for his liking.

You were feeling fuller than you'd ever felt before, fluttering around his length as you walls got adjusted to his girth.

He took a breath and gave an experimental thrust, knocking into your cervix and rendering you utterly boneless under him.

He repeated the action and you whined pitifully, his cock was hitting every spot perfectly at this angle and you knew you weren't going to last long.

After only a minute you were already drooling onto the desk and begging for him to go faster.

“Jesus Christ” he groaned, his hips slapping against your ass, “You're so fucking perfect for me, my perfect little slut”

You were already so close you could taste it.

“M'gonna come Jenson. Please make me come, I'll be a good girl for you, anything, just- please, fuck!”

He didn't stop this time, instead driving into you harder to chase his own release as you rode the waves of your high, made more intense by his unrelenting pace.

He finally came inside you as you'd just started to feel the ache of overstimulation and you twitched around him, feeling his cum leak out of you when he turned soft and pulled out gently.

The clean up was quick and awkward.

He sat down on the couch and you sat at your desk.

No one said anything for several minutes, gazes wandering around the room but never crossing...

You decided to brake the silence, being the only real adult in the room.

“I'll see what I can do for the tape” you sighed.

“Thank you” he bit his lip shyly.

“However...” you said, pausing to make him look at you. “I can't be your PR manager anymore”

He honestly looked like he was about to cry.

“But-“

You cut him off. “I will find you a replacement don't worry. But I'm almost going grey with how much stress you put me under, not to mention what we just did is entirely unprofessional, so I need to stop.”

“But-”

“However!” you cut him off again. “For the sake of the next person who's going to have to deal with you, and for my own personal needs. I'd be willing to make your sex life less public, and less... chaotic by becoming your girlfriend”

His jaw dropped. He definitely wasn't expecting that.

A small smile crept onto his his face that slowly grew until he was full on grinning at you.

You couldn't help smiling back.

“Don't think I hadn't noticed that all the shit you pulled was just to get my attention, I'm not that blind.”

He laughed and looked at the floor in embarrassment.

“So if you'll have me...” you got up and walked over to him, hooking a finger under his chin, “I’d love for you to bend me over every piece of furniture in your house”

He gulped and licked his lips as his pupils grew a fraction.

“Yes please”

[simplepotatofarmer]

saw your reply to the ask about black dog/rivals, so here's some questions! i'm not the person who sent the ask, but i have a bunch of questions anyways. sorry if you've answered them before

general:

what are their favorite forms of affection?

favorite plants, if any

who gets nightmares more (and how they help each other!!)

how do you think they'd react to the other betraying them

black dog:

(i haven't read that much of the stuff about your black dog au so sorry if some of this is just flat out wrong)

does anyone figure it out before techno

does punz know beforehand (assuming staged duo are still allies in this)

is...is there a grave for dream?? a pyre? a funeral? something of that nature??

do dream's former friends miss him at all. sapnap, george, anyone

does dream get any pets as laelaps

okay that's it

hope you are well! and good luck with nano!

(ps what does auhdh4auhdh mean? for a completely unrelated post. i know t4t is trans4trans but what does the acronym auhdh stand for. i have been wracking my brain to figure it out and....i just cant)

sorry this took so long for me to answer!! <3 <3

for general:

techno is pretty affectionate with his friends! he loves to hug them and sniff them and snorf them. he's a cuddle person. he loves to nap and hold onto his friends. he does try to play it cool sometimes but techno is a dork and he loves his friends. he loves to make grand gestures of gifts or declarations of friendship. dream isn't as obvious with affection. but he sometimes leans against techno or rests his head on techno's shoulder for a second. mostly though it's just the fact he's there and he'll always be there, y'know?

dandelions for techno, roses for dream!

dream. they're not very vivid, it's more like bits and pieces that makes it hard for him to sleep in the first place. he's a very light sleeper because of that. but the upside to having a large piglin friend is that he can basically act as a weighted blanket (phil also learned this, back in the day). having techno there helps.

this one is really hard for me because a main part of rivals duo is that they haven't betrayed each other. like, that is a key point. dream and techno both mention it, more than once. so if either of them ever did? i think it'd be a lot of complete denial. i think they'd try to come up with a reason as to why the other betrayed them. then techno would just. be sad. how did it end up like this? while dream would probably try to hide his sadness by saying he should've seen it coming.

okay, black dog questions!

techno is the first one to figure it out. he spends the most time around laelaps and he was also the one to spent the most time around dream out of all the people who are in consistent contact with laelaps.

punz doesn't know. that was kind of the whole point. no one knew dream wouldn't come back except dream. and dream wasn't planning on ever coming back. he wanted his death to be permanent but his limbo got to him after awhile.

there is! techno and punz bury him. only they know where it is. it's small. it doesn't have a name (they were afraid if anyone found it, they'd vandalize it). but it's there.

yeah, they do. but in the sense they've mourned him before this. to them, they've already lost him. they lost him before the prison, really. or at least during the prison arc.

he doesn't. or i'm not sure yet! but he's really focused on his job and he just doesn't have the time. i might give him something, though. i think he deserves to have a cat.

oh! and auhdh is just a shorthand way of saying that someone has both autism and adhd! both techno and dream canonically have adhd but i also headcanon them as being autistic. i just get that vibe from them!

[annabtg]

Fan Fic Humble Brag Tag

Tagged by @thelighthousestale, thank you so much! ❤

Sometimes we love something we wrote so much we want to knock on every door spreading the good word of our little story. But sometimes we fear being seen as rude or too self promoting. Here is your chance to do a bit of self promo and bragging without fear because some asked you too.

Answer the questions and then tag five writers who you think deserve to brag about their work.

1) The funniest bit of dialogue you wrote

This is a surprisingly hard question, because while I like writing humour, it's not exactly in the form of hilarious dialogue. It's more a combination of quippy dialogue and funny circumstances. Like in this one bit from Are You Experienced? in which James goes out in Muggle Glasgow in his school robes, causing people to think he's a monk:

“Hello. I have reserved two tickets for the Johnny Kendricks live show at Birmingham on the 30th. James Potter.” The woman narrowed her eyes at him, most probably wondering why a monk would be getting tickets to a live rock show. “The Johnny Kendricks live show,” she repeated, unconvinced. James straightened his back and eyed her strictly through his glasses. “Judge not, lest ye be judged,” he said archaically.

2) A story you wrote that made you cry

My Best Friend's Girl. I cried so much writing it, both with James's heartbreak and Sirius and Lily breaking up!

3) A story that still makes you laugh every time you reread it or think about it

I'm going to go with Are You Experienced? again!

4) Best moment of canon compliant characterization

I take great pride in my canon characterization! A story that always gets positive comments about the characterization of both James and Lily is The Great James Potter. Here's a snippet:

“All right, Evans? Had a good holiday?” “Sure,” she replies noncommittally. For some reason, she has always felt wary about James Potter knowing stuff about her. She has always thought of him as the kind of person who will use what he knows against her, and she doesn’t like anyone having that kind of power over her. “I was sure you’d be Head Girl this year.” She nods. Even though there’s nothing in his tone to suggest it, she understands it’s meant to be a compliment, and she takes it as such. He leans back on the seat and stretches his arms. “Can’t say the same about me, can you,” he adds with a sly smile. “I’m not completely surprised,” she admits. She is aware that his right arm is casually resting on the back of her seat, and she leans slightly forward to put some space between them, resting with her elbows on her knees and her chin on the back of her palms. Stray strands of red hair fall in front of her eyes, but she makes no effort to brush them back, instead looking at him through them. “But do you even know what you’re supposed to be doing here?” “Of course,” he says smugly. “I read the letter. Enforce the rules of the school and set a good example for the students.” “Do you know the rules?” He pushes his glasses to the back of his nose. “You have to know the rules to break the rules.”

5) Something you wrote in a fic you secretly (or not so secretly) think as canon

As pictured in The Big Little Moments: James and Lily lived with their parents after Hogwarts and really moved into their new home on their wedding day.

6) The most romantic bit you’ve written

Oh I've written a few good ones, if I say so myself! Here's one that many people have swooned over, from Inescapable:

“I don’t believe in destiny.” He tuts. “You should. It’s real, and it’s written all around you. Everywhere, from the tea you drink to your palms and your eyes.” “Nothing’s written in my eyes,” she says, averting her gaze and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “The stories in your eyes could fill books, Evans.” She looks up again, slowly, cautiously. She’s biting her lip. Her cheeks have turned pink. She’s beautiful. He knows not to say anything more yet – it’s a fine line he’s walking – but his destiny has never been clearer.

7) A fic you wrote that everyone sleeps on, but you know is excellent

It's A Long Way To The Top (If You Wanna Rock 'n' Roll). It's funny, it's fluffy, it's got music, it's got Jily and Marauders friendship. Honestly, it deserves more love.

8) Wow us with an excellent excerpt

I'll try! xD I consider Nom De Plume one of my best written works, so here's an excerpt from chapter 1:

James had always resorted to writing to express himself, clear his mind of the thoughts and ideas that chased him obsessively – and obsessively was the right word for how Lily Evans made him feel. He had started out with hymns and praise – pages dedicated to her beauty, her fiery spirit, the life sparkling in her emerald green eyes. He wrote down all the things he wanted to tell her, from Victorian literature-style confessions of adoration to the raw passion of Henrietta Hummingway’s heroes. And every drop of ink that seeped into the page carried him deeper and deeper, until it was his innermost desires he was describing, dreams of touches and caresses and becoming one with her; whispers and echoes of moments he’d never lived, but that were alive in his heart, painted in his mind, etched on his bones. When he lost her – when she wasn’t even there to admire from afar – he lost all rein on his fantasies. He stayed in the Academy, doing research, and every brilliant green would remind him of her eyes, every scarlet hue of her hair. He stirred potions and wrote papers, and when he went home and showered the remnants of the fumes away from his body and hair, he imagined the door opening by her hand; he imagined her seeking him, missing him; he imagined himself saying the right things for once. Then he would sit at his desk and write everything; he wrote her as beautiful as she was and as in love with him as he wished she’d be. He let himself surrender in stories where she longed for him; where she regretted every time she’d denied his invitations; where she came back to work at the Academy and they were partnered, and it all led to more, and then more.

9) Five words to describe your writing

Concise, poetic, polished, deliberate, witty.

10) The fic you are most proud of

I'm going to say Nom De Plume, because it's my first multichapter AU, and I worked so hard for such a long time on it! I love the writing in it and I think I did a good job with the plot and characterizations overall. :)

Tagging @kay-elle-cee @charmsandtealeaves @ksarasara @abihastastybeans @nena-96 (if you've already done it, tag me so I see it! I was away for the weekend and I've missed a lot!).

[nightwingshero]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @simonxriley @inafieldofdaisies @direwombat and @socially-awkward-skeleton! Thank you, lovelies!!!

Tagging: @detectivelokis @jinfromyarikawa @sstewyhosseini @baldurrs @marivenah @water-writings @oathofoaksart @playstationmademe @ri-a-rose @voidika @aceghosts @deputyash @shegetsburned @ghastlyrider @strafethesesinners @madparadoxum and anyone else who would like to share!!!

Just more RE stuff because why not? I need to work on prompts, but instead I’m trying to write a fic without planning and figuring out the details of my ocs and their canon. I like to get ahead of myself. This is also the first time I’ve ever written for Wren’s father, which is an experience all on its own, and I think one of the things I like about this is that we get to see it like this instead of just random flashbacks that I have planned for her fc5 fic. I’ll stop talking now. 

To say it was awkward was an understatement of the century, which was saying something considering the century was close to ending. Silence wasn’t something that made me uncomfortable, I enjoyed silence—my thoughts weren’t always too horrid to be alone with. Silence with him, however, was intolerable. The ambient noise of the typical hustle and bustle of the people around us seemed to only make it worse, as if it was purposefully pointing out the lack of conversation, as if it was mocking me and enjoying the fact that we had sat here for about fifteen minutes and barely uttered a word.

He glanced at me as he took a bit of his breakfast, watching as I moved my own meal around with my fork, watching the yolk spill and soak into the toast and hashbrowns on my plate. “You come all the way back here claiming you want to talk and get food, and you do none of those things. If you wanted to waste my damn time, you shoulda just said it.”

My fork stopped as I watched him shove another piece of steak and egg in his mouth, fighting to keep the cringe from my face. “You really shouldn’t be eating that.” Finally he leaned back, mouth still chewing, as his dark, cold blue eyes looked over me. I couldn’t help the way I wanted to squirm under his scrutiny. Every flaw became apparent under his judging gaze. Its good to see nothing changed.

“I’ll eat whatever the hell I want.” My dad replied before stabbing at his plate for more, the metal screaming against the plate, making me flinch. “Tired of bein’ told what to do. By you and by that damn chief. Force me into retirement, my fucking ass. They’re gonna replace me with some fuckin’ rookie. Believe that? What type of experience does some kid got over me?” His deep voice has gotten rougher over the years, just as much as he’s gotten more bitter. “Irons says it would be good for my health, we’ve been working together for years. He can shove it up his ass.”

Stephen Blake was a man to be reckoned with and that was how I knew him growing up. Not a doting father, not someone that would protect me and cherish me because I was his little girl—his only child—but a force of nature that I needed to weather until it was safe for me to run. And I had. He wasn’t a good man or a good father, but in the grand scheme of things, it could have been far worse. But that didn’t change the fact that neither of us had anyone else left, didn’t change the fact that I was the only one that could, or would, ever be able to take care of the things that were beginning to pop up. Like the current issue at hand.

“Marvin said—”

“So you think that because he said somethin’ to you, its true? You come all this way from your ivory tower because some fucking stranger says one thing. Maybe if you woulda stuck around, you’d fucking know better.”

He wasn’t over me running when I had the first chance. The fight had been roughly three years ago and he was still stewing in his rage over the fact that I chose a different life path. Sitting in front of him, I knew that there would be no forgiveness in the future, but that didn’t change what I had shown up for, it didn’t change what I had to do. “He said you’ve been coughing up blood for months. Sounds like they didn’t have a choice but to retire. It was that or what? Being let go due to not being able to do your job? I guess Chief Irons did you a favor.”

“Lying fucking prick, has his hands in too many fucking pockets. Piece of shit, loyalty is worth more than that.” Tossing his fork down he pointed at me and sneered, the wrinkles on his face deepening. “You fuckin’ remember that, you hear? Can’t tell how many times I’ve repeated myself, but you don’t fuckin’ listen.” He just shook his head in disappointment, the flickering lights on the bald part of his head reflecting there. “Some rookie cop is gonna take my place in this fuckin’ city and he’s gonna get a proper fuckin’ Raccoon City welcome while I get kicked out on my ass.”

“You need to go get the tests done we talked about.” I sighed, finally bringing us back to the reason I had traveled so far to meet him. “I have an appointment for you at the hospital.”

[chaos--mode]

ooc: meet the mun

NAME?: neph

PRONOUNS?: they/them

MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: ren harley, without a doubt. rien is getting up there as well, but ren will always be my darling. and i know lizzy hasn't been as active lately, but they got me back into rp and it's because of lizzy that i met @freakarus (ily and that will never not be wild to me), so they'll always have a special little corner of my heart.

RP PET PEEVES?: i guess just people being really pushy/impatient or entitled. in general but also with canon muses specifically, as if someone playing a canon muse means that they owe you something (their time, attention, etc.) and anyone that looks down on oc's, obviously.

EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: about 10 years when i was younger (not on tumblr though, was mostly online rp forums and such), and then coming up on two more years since i came back to rp in the summer of 2022.

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: angst lives in my soul, i eat that shit up. fluff is amazing as well though, i just usually prefer writing the really sappy stuff solo or with writing partners i know i have a good rapport with. smut i've written for solo stuff in the past and once with someone i knew very well and was very close friends with. it's just not something i'm really all that interested in writing most of the time.

PLOTS OR MEMES?: i live for plotting! i tend to think about my muses a lot and if our characters have a great dynamic and/or we as muns do, then i'm probably thinking about our muses all the time too. i still love memes though! sometimes i don't have the energy to do full plotted stuff, and sometimes it's just fun to do work with a starter or meme and go from there.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: i definitely lean towards longer replies, multi-para to novella. definitely novella for plotted stuff, as that's where i really get to dive into the psyche of my muse, how they see the world, what they're thinking about, etc. short and sweet can be good too, again because sometimes the energy for longer stuff just isn't there. and the quick back and forth can be great to establish some easy rapport and dynamic between muses as well!

TIME TO WRITE?: it tends to fluctuate, and i'm currently in a middle situation so this is a bit up in the air at the moment.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: yes, 100%. all my oc's have some aspect of my in them, some more abstractly than others. a lot of their main themes are things that i've dealt with in my life as it helps me to have a space where i can explore and work through those things outside of my experience with them. for my canon muses, everyone i write i write because there is some aspect of them that clicks with me and that i relate to. that's also generally what i build my headcanons off of, and the basis i use to construct any canon-divergences.

tagged by: @claratenebris ♡ tagging: @freakarus @untilthcyrot @cannib4l @aintashes @painmon @havvkinsqueen @lvebug @starbeambully @legbite @miercolaes and anyone else who wants to do this!

[nostalgia-tblr]

i saw your tags on the reply post to the anon ask where you mentioned how at some point there were a lot of sylki baby fics and you didn't read them,

and i have to say, same. like, i think it's great if one wants to write/read the baby stuff, but from some point on, it seemed like ONLY the baby stuff was being written for sylki, which kind of turned my off from the fandom.

again, it's 100% okay to write/read the baby stuff, but i feel like sylki has a potential for more... versatility in fanon? idk, whatever it is, your tags validated my own thoughts bc i felt like if i said anything about it i would be kicked out of the fandom (i knew at least two sylkis who were ganged up by other shippers for saying that they didn't see sylvie's journey being satisfyingly completed by having loki's babies).

anyways, i definitely do not try to start this drama all over again. i'd just say, write/read as many baby fics as you want to, but it would be nice if there were more sylki fics that weren't all about sylvie's pregnancy and babies...

that's about when i stopped regularly checking the tag on AO3, i must admit. I *think* there was a babyfic challenge somewhere - maybe a Discord server? - but they didn't seem to all be from that, it was like a sudden trend hit, wasn't it?

i have myself written sylki baby fic but it followed my own interests with it in that it mostly didn't have actual baby/pregnancy stuff in it, i was just trying to cause problems for them LOL. though it's not a topic i am that into generally, regardless of pairing. a lot of people are though and indeed That Is Fine! most of the time i've never thought anything either way about the amount of sylki babyfic, just for a while there it seemed to dominate for some reason.

and surprisingly little of it involved either a) the myth-'canon' stuff where Lokis have weird monster-babies or b) the hilarious vexing question of whether the child of two Lokis is itself a Loki. And if you combine those two you can blame the monster-babies on them being the same person - it practically writes itself!

i think for me domestic fic is like Mundane* AU fic - it's v popular and there's (obviously) nothing wrong with it, but it's just not what I am into so when there are brief floods of either of that sort of thing I just end up skipping a lot of stuff. (before anyone complains about me complaining - i didn't like so i didn't read, which is exactly what one should do in such a situation. SO THERE.) i generally am more into Canon Divergence for AUs, which might just be cos i mostly into sci-fi canons fannishly so when every SF element is removed in fic I am then less interested? maybe? and of course many sylki AUs just lack the selfcest aspect - oh no!!!

(*i don't mean Mundane in a value-judgement way, that just seems like the best term for the sort of AU that's modern day/real world settings which lean towards Very Normal things like coffee shops and academia and Sylvie working in a McDonalds retail work & the like. if there's a well-accepted alternative pls let me know, thnx.)

[enruiinas]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name — Saro

pronouns — She/Her

preferred comms — Discord, for sure! I'm a little bit scatterbrained and not always the best with fast replies but if we're mutuals I love being discord friends and getting to chat there! I dunno why but becoming someone's friend there makes it easier for me to reach out to plot, scream about our muses/ships, etc.

name of muse — Trafalgar Law! (blog is shifting to single-muse in the near future)

experience in RP — I've been RPing a little over 6 months, mostly as Law and in the OP community.

best experiences — Honestly, just finding the people that click with me and understand the particular quirks of mine I worry about (in terms of how my muse works/inconsistent reply speeds) or have the same takes on muses and canon events and whatnot - and just that overall feeling of... "omg, this is one of my people!" These are the people that GET when I decide "LUFFY ENERGY: I've decided you're now my best friend" and they just go with it.

pet peeves / dealbreakers — I don't think I have many! Probably just the standard "bad etiquette" stuff - godmodding, rb karma, etc.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — I love all 3 of those things (although smut depends on us having an active ship or having at least discussed interest in exploring one). Given Law's backstory and tendency to have a lot of thoughts, angst is just a given, and I love leaning into that and introspection.

plot or memes — I'm open to both but I generally prefer a bit of plotting. I guess it's because I'm still newer to RP and haven't learned to fully tap into my creativity yet, but if things are too open (or too 'literally anything could happen') sometimes it makes my brain shut down like "oh man which of the many options do I go with." So I do like to have basic ideas for interactions or an outline for heavier verse stuff - or at least a relationship with the mun where I can be like "Okay, so I've got a couple of things I'm considering for this meme you sent - do you have a preference?"

long or short replies — Long! Again - Law, angst, introspection. Many thoughts. Lots of words.

best time to write — Early morning for me. I'm usually up at around 5 or 6am my time and enjoy the quiet hours before the rest of the world gets moving to work on replies!

are you like your muse — In some ways! Law is a lot smarter than me, but we're both introverted, awkward, probably come across as rude even when it's not the intention, easily exasperated...

Tagged by - @celestiialnotes

Tagging - @seisfleurtwist @fieryxhearts @graytxrminal - and anyone else who wants to do it!

[dreamforcedeities]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG ! )

NAME:   Either Sparkle or Wolfie

PRONOUNS:   She/her

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION:   Tumblr IM is preferred, I’d rather those over say my askbox. Mutuals are welcome to ask for my discord! I’m quicker to respond over there, that and uh, tumblr can be bad on notifying me >:T

NAME OF MUSE(S):   Quite a few, on this blog in particular I’ve got Wizeman, Illumina, Lumina Flowlight, Void, NiGHTS, Reala and Selph.

EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?):   This blog was made in like what, 2013? I archived all the old posts but I’d say that was when I really got my foot in the door, let’s just say 10+ yrs.

PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED:   Tumblr, discord, skype, deviantart notes, tiny chat (is that still a thing?), Feralheart…. A lot of places

BEST EXPERIENCE:   Hard to pick just one, I’d say the stuff I’ve done with PTducky has been most of my fondest RP memories. That and that one RP I did on feralheart with Wizeman YEARS ago but the memories are kinda faded on what actually happened XD

RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS:   Aside from those who don’t follow the rules I don’t got many. One of the few I have is ocs with no bios, canon characters I don’t know I can just look up on a wiki, I can’t with Ocs. Another thing is dull replies, I need SOMETHING to go off of. RP is a collaborative effort after all!

FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT:   Fluff and angst are both good, although some characters I like to lean more one way than another. I am aro/ace so no smut for me. 

PLOTS OR MEMES:   I love to plot threads but sometimes I can be a bit shy to approach, sometimes it can be fun to just have my muse meme with another muse on the dash.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES:   I try to aim for mediumish length, although some of my replies can be longer than others. Also depends on if said muse has RP icons or not (Selph and Illumina being the most lacking in that department)

BEST TIME TO WRITE:   Noonish I’d say, or whenever I have a burst of inspiration.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S):   I’d say I at least share SOME traits with some of my muses. 

tagged by: The dash

tagging: Anyone who wants to, go ahead friends!

[wcrldcfvtlvs]

----- 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑.

NAME: M for online purposes only, the homies on discord know my real name

PRONOUNS: She/Her

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Discord or Tumblr IMs if you don't have me on discord, but you can always ask when we're mutuals! I tend to keep discord a place where we can relax, vent, or simply get to each other!

RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: being honest? I don't really have a lot? I try not to take this rp thing too seriously. Just don't be an ass, rude, disrespectful etc. If you got problems with me, address them. I promise I won't bite you or act weird towards you. I prioritize your mental health over writing. So just say things with your chest and stand on business. The most you'd get outta me is an apology and look for/asking for ways to improve.

MUSE PREFERENCE: Female first always, gimmie your females/female presenting muses because lord knows they get ignored on this site, also OC's first as well! Canon's are cool, I rp as a canon character ( @truepcwer / vergil from dmc ), but I wanna see/support more oc's since I'm an oc multi-muse with interlacing stories. Also, I lean towards more supernatural/special ability based oc's! Given this blog and the canon deal with those themes, I am more comfortable with those themes, but I'm always open to human things as long as my characters are respected and I'm not watering them down!

PLOTS OR MEMES: a bit or both! Since I'm starting to figure out my style, I tend to write more and lengthy replies usually come because of plots or a general layout of where we're going. Memes are a good way to break the ice and see if our muses click, and by then I'll jump in discord or IMs to give plot suggestions/dynamic plans for our characters!

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: Long replies! Mainly because short replies always end up turning into novel length anyway~ but I'm fine with short stuff until it gets longer. It usually just means the muse is vibing with the thread! That doesn't mean you have to match length!

BEST TIME TO WRITE: So typically, I usually write in the dead of night because I can focus better, of course this will change once I go to school again, but for right now I'll usually reply to stuff at night unless my writing partner is feeling motivated then I can write throughout the day! I usually check replies/activity on mobile and save the thread in drafts so I can reply when I have the chance!

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE: the three main Atlas' are a bit like myself, Rosalie being social and open is like me when I wanna make friends, Tyler is my anger and how I stuff feelings inside and let them fester, also with his music is basically my music, and Victoria with her introverted side. Of course everything is more dramatic for writing purposes but slowly, they're becoming their own people! Some of the events in my muses lives are based on my own experiences and walk of life but more dramatic

tagged by/stolen from: @ghostlyhcurs ( thought it was nice to read, so I decided to yoink it from ya! )

tagging: anyone who wants to the do the thing!

[thevalleyoftriumph]

okok to add on bcos im crazy for this media, eteled is also responsible for Real Murder in the media! not just miis!

canonically, before his death - when he was just henry morris - he was a very depressed and sort of bitter guy with a shit past. he had, supposedly, a huge jealousy spike for another workers success - said worker being austin sanders, later showing up as the [cliche'dly named] corrupted mii. in response to austins fast success, henry.. basically murders him in the offices computer server room after ranting to him and stuff.

and youll notice actually! that decapitation is a huge theme with him! including axes! because thats the weapon he uses here!

AND!!! fun fact !! the way henry turns into eteled is, while hes fucking around with a wii and making the goofy little mii guy, austin - now a ghost haunting the office himself - is in the wii henry is messing with. however comma, what i assume is due to his weird interference, when henry goes to plug the wii back in, it ELECTROCUTES HIM TO DEATH!!!

which is also funny! considering thats how hes also "killed" AS ETELED !!!! he gets fucking electric chair'd!! [legit it took me like . 3 years for me to click with that parallel. like genuinely im realizing as im typing it out.]

eteled is also the catalyst for two characters, kyle and sam, to LITERALLY DUKE IT OUT and fight over the wii - sam is attached to eteled, seeing him as a friend whos changed, while kyle isnt over the trauma he caused him as a kid. he wants to destroy the wii so eteled doesnt hurt anyone else, and sam is VERY strongly against it...despite the fact eteled has just a few days earlier traumatized some kid from her school that broke into her house by nearly killing that kids mii [deserved! but still not a good look!]

anyways, personally the reason why i ASSUME he's treated so "cutesy" and stuff by the fandom despite his history, is 1] because of his design [that people often find more cute or goofy than unnerving from what ive seen] and 2] because of how he acts during sam's story - more docile and shy, almost scared at times, nevermind the whole thing with getting the goddamn death penalty by austin [which is . ALSO revenge. yk for the murder]

people feel more inclinded to lean into that instead of the "guy with murderous tendancies" from what ive seen - especially in a lot of the au's people make where they make him very... innocent? its a very odd thing to me personally, and the reason why most people HERE wont have heard of it is because it was Mainly centered on twitter - however this character interpritation became so commonplace that it did eventually spread to here, and as you can see, to the official wiki.

[shameless self promo, but me and my boyfriend both worked VERY HEAVILY on the wiki all by ourselves! before we found it, there were very few pages, nevermind actually filled out ones. we worked very hard on them! most of what you see there is from us, barring a few small changes that have collected over the last year or two, mostly on austin and henrys pages if my email notifs serve me right lol]

ALSO ALSO ALSO there was a twitter event on the official wdy twitter for henry/eteleds birthday [and austins but thats not important here] where one of the mods would set up a whole interactive thing with art and character interactions and everything! eteled had one of these, and could be seen interacting with followers and fans who replied to the tweets!

[it was actually a very heartwarming segment, both birthday events, and [if canon] concludes the story for these two rather well with character development and stuff! i personally see it as canon bcos i just find it sweet how they finally managed to make somewhat of amends after like. what. 16 in universe years.]

Mii Lore: Eteled

(ok i’m gonna be honest there’s a lot to uncover here that i do not know; i’m not that big into the creepypasta scene. if anyone has more information they’d like to add to this do feel free !)

Eteled is the main antagonist of the Wii Deleted You Creepypasta series. He was originally created by IceyPie. He does a lot of killing people with axes, but is still described affectionately as “cute” and “the skrunkly” on his fandom wiki page.

Eteled is the post-mortal version of Henry Morris, who was a very unhappy (fictional) Nintendo employee. He essentially haunts(?) this kid Kyle’s new Wii, and Kyle keeps trying to delete him since he looks kind of spooky, especially for a child his 7th birthday. Eteled gets mad and deletes Kyle’s mii, which means that Kyle now has to play his Wii Sports as Eteled. But then Kyle’s mii shows up again- happy days, until he’s decapitated by Eteled. Little Kyle watches this and doesn’t touch the Wii again for a good seven years.

But of course curiosity always strikes, so Kyle goes back to the Wii and talks with Eteled. Eteled explains that all the miis that get deleted get sent to this hellish hospital room for eternity, but because he’s cool and the Main Character (and imbued with the spirit of a dead depressed Nintendo employee) he knows how to get out of there. He warns Kyle not to delete miis ever again or otherwise they’ll go to hospital hell which would make Eteled mad, which might mean axe murder.

The Wii Deleted You creepypasta has an 8.9/10 IMDb rating. Eteled has in fact become so popular that he is available as a Makeship plushie.

[change-the-world-someday]

I'll Be Here

Oh boy I'm back baby. Here's a Derek Shepherd x Teen!reader bc I just started Grey's Anatomy. I'm well aware I've had stuff in my inbox for over a year, and frankly I'll get round to them soon. I hope this tides you over.

Derek Shepherd x Teen!Reader

Summary: Who'd have thought the child of Derek Shepherd would suffer with something even he can't cure?

A/N: I've been twitching a lot lately so this was a comfort write. Derek and Meredith don't have a relationship, and there's a bit of canon divergence.

⚠️TW⚠️ Talk and descriptions of twitching/tics

—•—

You knew the moment you woke up you were going to have a bad day.

Your alarm went off at the bright and early nine and as you made a move to turn it off, your arm twitched, almost pushing it off your nightstand. You let out a sigh, leaning down and managing to shut it off and sit up.

Until you neck starts to snap left and right, tensing and relaxing each muscle.

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter under your breath, standing and stretching, well, as much as you can before your twitches start up again. You makes your way downstairs, finding an empty kitchen and a note on the counter. You manage to pick it up and read it.

Sorry, I got called in today. Let me know when you’re up

— Dad

You shake your head, whistling and shaking your hands. Great, so you're alone on a day where your twitches are worse than normal. You sigh and head back upstairs, almost losing balance on the stairs, and takes a quick shower before trying to style your hair. With difficulty, you get changed before reaching over and grabbing your phone. You grip it tightly, until it’s flung across the room.

“Shit,” you mumble, reaching down and picking it up. You open your messages, trying to text your dad.

Y/N

Hi, up. Bad today

It’s short, and to the untrained eye, might seem pretty rude, but to you and your dad, is a warning. Heading back to the kitchen, you try to eat a bowl of cereal. Instead, you managed to spill the cereal twice, drop milk on the floor, and then poke yourself in the side of the face a few times with your spoon instead of eating.

Your phone buzzes.

Dad

Do you need me at

home?

Y/N

No. Just bad

Dad

Do you want to come

to the hospital? You

can stay in one of the

offices if you want

You think about it for a moment, though you don’t get too long before your phone starts ringing. You pick up.

“Hi—” you whistle “—hi Dad.”

You hear him sigh. “Hey kid. Do you want to come in today? I can make sure no one stops you and you can come straight to the office.”

You click, your neck jerking forward. “You sure? I’ve—“ you whistle “—never been there before. I don’t want—“ you click “—to become a case study.”

Your dad laughs lightly down the phone. “I won’t let them. Just make your way over, and keep your earphones in. Music helps.”

You nod, before your neck twitches to the side and cracks, making your dad wince audibly. “Okay. I’ll let you know—“ you whistle and sigh, clearly getting frustrated with yourself.

“I get it. Don’t work yourself up; it’ll only make it worse. See you soon. Love you.”

A ghost of a smile passes across your face. “Love you too, Dad.”

—•—

Derek hangs up and leaves the store cupboard, almost bumping into Dr Bailey as she marches past.

“Watch where you’re going, McDreamy,” she scolds and Derek smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Bailey narrows her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Y'N's coming here. They're having a bad day,” he replies and Bailey nods, immediately catching on. “No one else knows.”

Surprisingly enough, you haven’t met anyone from Derek’s work, except for Bailey and even then, that was an accident. You'd bumped into her on a bad day and Derek had to explain what was wrong. Ever since, Bailey’s had a soft spot for you.

“Not even the chief?” She asks and Derek shakes his head. “Did you warn them?” He nods. “Well, there’s not much else you can do.”

“They're texting me when they’re a few minutes away. If I get caught in surgery, can you meet them at the doors please?”

The two stop in the corridor, Bailey pulling him over. “I have my own schedule too, Shepherd.”

Derek nods. “I know, but you’re the only other person here they know, and you know how they can get in places they don’t know…”

Bailey looks around. “If you’re caught up, you owe me one.”

Derek smiles and nods, a look of relief on his face. “Thank you.”

—•—

You're walking down the street to the hospital, constantly readjusting your earphones so they don’t fall out. Your neck keeps snapping to the side and jerking forward, earning a few odd looks from strangers. You sigh, a few minutes away from the hospital, and pull out your phone. Before you can do anything, though, you promptly throw your phone on the pavement.

Thank god your dad bought you one of those industrial phone cases. You pick it up, dodging people as you go to call your dad. He picks up after two rings.

“Hi, I’m—“ you click “—a minute away.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be able to meet you at the doors. Just walk through, take the stairs to the fifth floor, and come down the hall. I’ll be in the break room, second door on the left.”

Your eyes widen; you're going to be by yourself? Walking through a hospital? Where no one knows you?

“O-Okay,” you stammer out and your dad sighs.

“I’m sorry kid. Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He hangs up and you take a breath, nodding to yourself. You pocket your phone and turn your music up as loud as it can be. Your dad was right, it does ease your twitching, though not as much as you'd like.

Fall Out Boy blasts through your earphones as you walk through the doors of Seattle Grace. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, your neck twitch making it a lot easier to achieve. You click as you make your way to the stairwell, making your way up.

You don’t hear the calls of concerns from the interns following you, trying to catch up to you.

By the time you reach the fifth floor, the two interns have gone to find Dr Bailey to try and assist them, and Dr Shepherd who can help with the disorder being presented. They haven’t had someone who needs medical attention blatantly ignore them and go to a certain department before.

You lose your balance a little as you walk through the doors to the fifth floor, your neck jerking left and right repeatedly, muscles tensing and relaxing. Your hands are shaking and you walk like a new fawn.

You reach the door and push it open, whistling and clicking as you do so. At least you can see your dad today.

—•—

Derek knows immediately what kind of day is happening when you steps into the room. You're a jerking mess, neck and shoulders tensing and relaxing as though given electric shocks. You're whistling, clicking, and your eyes have recently started screwing shut, temporarily blinding you.

And that’s with your headphones in.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets, gently taking one earbud out of your ear and leading you to the seats. At least if you're sat, you have less of a chance of hurting yourself.

“Hi Dad,” you reply until a whistle comes back out. “S-Sorry.”

“Hey,” Derek places a firm but kind hand on your shoulder, “don’t apologise. None of this is your fault.” There’s a silence between you two, only broken by the sound coming from the removed earphone. “Fall Out Boy? Nice choice.”

Your neck snaps but you give a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Do you want something to eat? Did you manage to get some breakfast?” You sigh, your hands twitching and trembling, which tells Derek everything he needs to know. “Is it a bomb-site there?”

You shake your head. “I managed—“ you whistle “—to clean up. Took ages.” Your neck jerks forward. Derek sighs, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. You've always been wary; you never want to hurt your dad accidentally but Derek doesn’t care. You're his kid, and nothing will change that.

“You’re okay. Do you want some lunch? We can go to the cafeteria—they’ve got some pizza in there that’s actually pretty good.”

You nod, knowing anything you try to say will be interrupted by one of your twitches. You walk alongside Derek, trying your hardest to suppress your twitching as you make your way through the hospital and into to lift, where a few others are going to different floors. Derek notices, and leans into your ear. “You don’t have to hide it here, kid. Promise.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief from you as you let out a scatter of twitches, your neck jerking forward as you whistle and click. Your hands shake and flap and you let it all go. A few of the doctors and nurses turn around to look at you, but one harsh glare from Dr Shepherd makes them all go back to minding their own business.

You exit the lift and walk through the corridors to the cafeteria. You join the queue and you feel Derek keep an arm around you, trying to help you ease your twitches. You're grateful, though you both know there isn’t much either of you can do to stop them. You sigh, putting your earphones back in and blasting some music, this time Hozier.

Derek watches you struggle, sympathy panging through his heart. He hates that you've been cursed with this, and the worst part is they can’t find anything that’s causing it. It’s not like there’s a tumour or growth on your brain Dr Shepherd can operate on, you're just stuck with it.

“Dr Shepherd, good afternoon. Who’s this?” Lindsey, the server behind the food counter, greets. Derek smiles.

“Afternoon Lindsey. This is my kid, Y/N. They're joining me at the hospital today,” he explains, gently tapping you on the shoulder and causing you to take an earphone out. “Y/N, this is Lindsey.”

“Hi,” you greet, before your neck jerks forward yet again, cracking. The two adults give a wince and Lindsey gives you a small smile.

“What would you like, hun?” She asks. You look over, or does so as best you can. You can barely stay still long enough to read the menu. “We have a standard pizza or pepperoni pizza today. We also have some ham, chicken, or cheese sandwiches and salads. Or a few pastries we can heat up if you’d prefer.”

You give her a grateful smile. “Can I—“ you whistle “—have pepperoni please? And a—“ you click “—bottle of water?”

“Sure thing, and you Dr Shepherd?”

You put your earphones back in, trying your hardest to stop twitching. The problem is, the more you try to stop it, the worse it gets. It takes a few minutes for you to get your food, and when you do, Derek carries both trays to a table and sets them down. He takes a seat opposite you, giving a small smile.

“Thanks Dad,” you thank, pulling one earphone out so you can hear the conversation. You pick up the plastic fork and spear a few chips, but before you can eat them, your hand twitches and you throw it on the floor. You sigh but before either you or your dad can make a move to pick it up, someone else does it for you.

“You better be more careful. I don’t want fries on my shoes.” You recognise that voice anywhere, and smile as you look up at Dr Bailey. You let out a small laugh.

“Hi Dr Bailey,” you greet, whistling as your head snaps to the side and back. She smiles at you.

“Heard you were coming and through I’d say hello.”

—•—

“Guys, shut up,” Cristina hisses. “Do you see?”

“See what?” George asks as they quieten down. She nods her head and the table of interns turn around to catch sight of what’s going on. Dr Bailey is talking Dr Shepherd… and you sat with them. You're not dressed in any kind of hospital gown, nor are you wearing scrubs, so who are you? And how are you making Dr Bailey smile?

Meredith watches, catching sigh of your hair, and her eyes widen. She reaches over, slapping George on the arm.

“What?” He asks.

“It’s them,” she replies, “the person from earlier. Y’know, the one who didn’t check in at reception and took the stairs. The one who ignored us!”

George’s eyes widen too, and the two get up and start to walk over, ignoring the protests of Cristina and Izzie as they reach the table. You're struggling to get a sentence out, whistling and clicking as you try to tell Dr Shepherd about something.

“Dr Shepherd!” Meredith calls out, making the conversation halt between you. “Are you with a patient?”

She misses how you cringe. Dr Shepherd frowns, which only deepens more at the crack in your neck as it jerks forward. “Dr Grey, Dr O’Malley, how can I help?”

“W-We saw, erm, this kid walk straight through and up to neurology without checking in. Do you want us to check them in and get a better examination? We were going to come to you for a consult when we saw them anyway, but since you already seem to know them…” George trails off and Dr Shepherd looks between you, the interns, and Dr Bailey.

An awkward silence falls between you, only disturbed by the occasional whistle or click from you. “I can get a wheelchair if it’s easier.”

“No need,” Dr Shepherd cuts in. “They aren’t a patient, their name’s Y/N. They're my kid and they're accompanying me to work today.” The two interns look at each other, mortified. “Now, if you excuse us, we were just having lunch.”

Your hand flexes again, making you throw your fork on the floor (the second one in the space of fifteen minutes) and sigh. You go to pick it up, only for George to beat you to it. “Here.”

“Than—“ you click as your head jerks forward “Thank you.”

“Don’t you two have places to be?” Bailey asks, less than impressed with her two interns in front of her. They both nod and scurry off, back to their table to tell Cristina and Izzie about Dr McDreamy’s kid.

—•—

“I don’t know how they cope with it,” George muses as the group of four interns sit on some beds in the back corridor, waiting to be paged for something.

“Yeah, twitching all the time. God, I’d kill myself if I had them,” Izzie continues. “Would ruin my chances at both medicine and modelling. And a lot of other things, probably.”

“Do you think they wanted to go into medicine? Y’know, before they started twitching? Or have they always had it?” Cristina asks. “Or do they have a tumour?”

“For your information,” a voice cuts in, making all four jump and turn to the source, meeting the likes of Dr Shepherd, “Y/N wants to be a lawyer.” He walks down the corridor to them, everyone’s cheeks turning red a the prospect of being caught gossiping. “The tics developed about eighteen months ago, just before we moved to Seattle. It’s not a tumour, or any kind of swelling; in fact, we have no clue what set it off.”

“Have you done an MRI? CT?” Meredith suggests and Derek nods.

“We ran everything. It all came back clean.” He looks at Cristina. “They did want to be a doctor. When we realised we couldn’t cure them, they were upset for weeks. They—“

“Talking about me?” A voice calls down the corridor and Derek’s face splits into a smile, something that doesn’t go amiss by the others. You whistle, making it to the group and taking a seat next to your dad. You lean on him… until your neck twitches and you almost fall back. Derek’s hand shoots out, supporting you.

“We were just—“ Izzie tries to say before you cut her off, clicking in the process.

“Let me guess.” You whistle. “The doctor que—“ you click “—question and how I live with—“ your neck jerks to the side “—it.”

Your dad gives you a smile. “Ten out of ten for you,” he smiles. You nod.

“Well, I used to want to—“ you click “—be a doctor, until we found out this is incurable.” You whistle. “Pretty soul-crushing.” Your neck jerks back, and if it wasn’t for your dad’s hand, you would’ve hit the wall. “And we’ve learned to adapt to it. There are—“ you click “—days where I’m fine, with only a few, and days—“ you whistle and everyone can feel the frustration radiating off you. Still, no one chooses to finish your sentence, letting you get it out yourself “—like this.”

—•—

For a while, the six make general conversation, until, slowly but surely, you start to drift off. It isn’t until there’s an odd silence that Derek notices, and he has a smile on his face as he looks down at you, asleep on his shoulder.

“They look so… peaceful,” Izzie comments quietly, the others agreeing.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few rough days this week. God knows they need the rest,” Derek mutters. He shifts to look between the four. “Any of you wake them, I’ll make sure you’re banned from the OR for a month.”

Everyone’s eyes widen as they nod in unison; they’re all begging for a chance at more surgery. Carefully, Derek manoeuvres you so your head’s lying in his lap, body stretched out on the hospital bed. He carefully cards his fingers through your hair, detangling it as gently as he can.

The interns’ pagers go off, assigning them jobs and the four rush off, leaving Derek and you to rest. He smiles, getting himself comfortable sitting on the end of the bed, back against the wall.

“Get some rest, buddy. I’ll always be here for you.”

—•—

Hope y'all enjoyed. I know it's pretty different from what I usually write, but this is for my own comfort so...

Sorry not sorry

Taglist

@breadsticks2004 @criminalsmarts @rororo06@ogmilkis@ssebstann@herecomesthewriterwitch @garcias-batcave @spidey-reids-2003 @lovelylaurens@sataninsatin@snarky--starky @mcntsee @averyhotchner @dindjarinsspouse @lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love

[yand3r3-everything]

Not What Was Expected

mentions of: murder, drugging, swearing, kidnapping, slightly perverted tendencies toward reader? 2 suicide mentions (not by reader obviously) 1 mention of rape, not to reader. definitely not canon stuff, but it’s fiction anyways. Takes place fnaf 2, but an au where the animatronics don’t come after and kill the guards. they do roam though, and it’s half the nightguard’s jobs to make sure the animatronics have no malfunctions. 

Anyone remember the old art of someone with like Mike, phone guy, Jeremy, and old William, AKA Vincent who everyone portrayed as a serious pervert? Don’t remember the artist but I don’t feel like searching for them if their art still is even available to see. 

What if they all know what Vincent did, but couldn’t get proof, and didn’t want to worry he’d go after them next? Their friendships are almost normal, except they fear pushing it too far and tolerate some things he does.  

You get hired a while later and have the medium ability to sense spirits, and sometimes what they’re trying to say. Immediately they warn you to “stay away from the purple man” as you see their deaths. It’s incredibly disturbing, but not the first time you’ve seen kids die. 

Unlike the others, you have no problem whatsoever if he tried to even lean on you. You hit Vincent within a few days more than Mike did in a month. 

Honestly, Mike quite liked you for your ability to not hesitate about it at all. 

Phone Guy, we’ll just go with Scott, is worried. 

Vincent has threatened you teasingly with the knife a few times, which you were NOT impressed with, and swat it away like it’s nothing with the back of your hand. It grosses you out you can sense he kind of likes your fearless way and the hits. 

One day they all decide to inform you of what he did before Vincent comes. 

“He’s uh, killed before-” Scott starts. 

“I know.” You reply before he or someone can continue, texting a friend who was a killer as well, but he hunted down and killed bad people. Ever since the rapist who got to his female best friend, making her kill herself, he’s teamed up with a hacker and killed several of them who got out of jail or never did go to jail. 

“it’s best you don’t piss him- what?” Mike stares at you. They all do. 

You shrug like it’s no big deal. “The kids themselves told me, and to avoid him. All cops and investigators are useless. This isn’t the first time they’ve never found the bodies or the killer. I know like three other killers. Two of them grew guilty and either killed themselves or turned themselves in though. The third is still free, but he does kill rapists so like hell I’m telling on him.” 

Their eyes widen in surprise. 

“Besides,” you continue. “the weirdo kinda likes it apparently. Who knew a killer could be a masochist. Not me.” 

Mike frowns and angrily crosses his arms. “Ugh, should have been obvious.” 

You sense Vincent right behind yourself. “Really Vincent? It’s rude to creep up like you are.” he wraps his arms around you ftom behind, his body pressing against yours. 

“Aw, You got me all figured out~ nah ah, it’s rude to talk about someone without them around.” 

You wonder if you could break his jaw if you would elbow it hard enough. Eh, he hasn’t pissed me off quit enough for that. Your elbow still swings behind. He lets out a grunt, unwraps his arms, and raises his hands in mock surrender. 

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

As more weeks pass, the others grow attached to you as well. of course, they don’t act like Vincent at all, but a few ways of touch here and there, such as often arm wresting with Mike, a goodbye hug from Jeremy, or a common handshake greeting/goodbye with Scott. Mike doesn’t make arm wrestling with you easy, but that’s why you find it more fun. 

And Vincent? Oh, he knows what the others are falling into, and is honestly thrilled about it. He’s like a villain rubbing their hands together in joy as their plan is working even more perfectly than they could have imagined. He just has to push their minds in the right direction a little more. And plan a way to get them away from the pizzeria. No doubt those damned kids even as spirits wouldn’t let him enjoy taking the reader somewhere never to be seen again. Only difference is they won’t be killed. 

He already has a few plans, as well as another few to... take care of a certain killer friend that would no doubt come after him and the others. That will be different and fun~ He also knows it will be put on him because the others would be too guilty. No problem! More fun for him. 

“It’s about time you guys asked! Of course I’ll do it~”

Mike raises a brow. “We didn’t even ask yet.” 

“Did you forget who you’re talking to? I saw the way you guys looked at them a while ago,” he grows a very wide grin. “gotta say, didn’t know you guys had it in you!” 

Mike looked away with his arms crossed. “Shut your damn face you fucking overgrown grape.” 

“You know you love me~”

“Where um, where are they anyways?” Jeremy pipes up surprisingly. 

“Oh yeah, they told me they would not be coming tonight. Caught some sort of sickness. Just a cold they’re guessing.” Scott replies. 

“Perfect! I already have some ideas. Now, since I’m suspecting you guys didn’t think of a place to keep them tied up for a while, I can take care of that for now of them being at my place,” 

He noticed their look at him. He rolls his eyes. “Fine, I promise not to do anything else for a while after first. I still call being around them first when they’re feisty. Anyway, with their stupid ability with the spirits here, we have to get them somewhere else. Already scrapped the Chloroform, blunt hit, and choking ideas. The Chloroform just has too many problems it could cause and they might be able to struggle free before full effect. The blunt force could kill them, which I surprisingly don’t want to do~”

“That would be a first.” Mike mumbles. 

“Aw, how sweet of you guys to forget yourselves!”

Scott “coughs” to change it before Mike fully looses his cool. “Anyway, were you thinking like a café on the weekend or something?”

Vincent winks. “You hit the nail right on the head! I know a few people for a few things. I’ll be ready by Sunday. Be sure to invite them and tell me where.

The others nod.

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

You get a message from Scott. “Are you free this Sunday around noon? We’re all heading to “swirl it all’ café.” 

Nothing was planned, and that seemed fun enough. 

“Sure. Be there then.” 

You arrived with Scott and Jeremy being the first two there. They seem anxious in a different way. It didn’t take long for Mike and Vincent to arrive. Vincent has his usual creepy smile on his face. He’s on your left, Scott’s on your right, Mike’s in front of you, and Jeremy is by the wall in front of Scott. Your drinks come rather quickly.  

Your favorite drink you ordered last time coming here tasted rather flat this time, like it’s been sitting out for a while before you arrived. 

“Do your guy’s drinks taste kinda off?” 

Mike shrugged. “Eh, no difference for me, but then again I don’t really care or remember what it exactly was before.”

Must just be nothing then. 

You start feeling abnormally tired after probably about an hour. Everyone was well done with their drinks, but hearing some funny stories of Mike’s middle school was interesting. 

You keep leaning towards Scott. Even violently shaking your head can’t seem to wake me up. You get up to go to the bathroom. Maybe some cold water splashed on the face would help. 

Ugh it’s the stupid auto sinks you can’t change the temperature. 

Your shoulder is resting on the wall next to the sinks. The door creaks open behind, and someone grabs your hand. They bring your arm around their torso. You instinctively wrap around it. Their hand grabs the arm, and there's a faintly felt three taps before they... start rubbing circles on the wrist?  

Shit, stop. It’s making you... More tired... 

Vincent comes back to the table with you now fully out. Scott made sure it was an area not many went to for less suspicion. Luckily, no one still is around. Nor is the person Vincent got in contact with to put in the drink before giving it. Better then than having to wait another day or you noticing. 

As the others look at you sleeping, under the guilt, a part of them doesn’t regret the decision. This is not the path they expected to go down, but too late to turn back anyways, even if they did only regret it. 

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

An- btw that’s a completely made up café lol. I know it would have probably been easier to write about alcohol being spiked or something, but I really don’t like alcohol so I refuse to write a reader drinking it. I also don’t know how true the rubbing circles on the wrist helps you sleep is. It’s just from the internet. 

[sequinsmile-x]

Can you make a story wherein Hotchniss are married and are both working at FBI but under different departments? Then their teams worked together and the BAU team didn’t know that Emily is Hotch’s wife. Something like that 😅

Does it surprise anyone anymore when I get carried away?

I hope you like it <3

Secrets

They keep each other a secret and it suits them both.

In which Emily doesn't leaves Interpol after her time with Ian Doyle, and her and Aaron cross paths years later.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: None, some canon typical case stuff

Read over on AO3, or below the cut!

Let me know what you think <3

December 2012

Emily smiles as she feels lips skate across her shoulder and up her neck, eventually landing on her jaw. She rolls over, and comes face to face with Aaron. He’s laying next to her, his elbow on the bed and his head resting on his hand as he looks down at her.

“Good morning.” He says, his voice still thick with sleep. He leans down and kisses her, a quick thing stamped against her lips.

“Morning.” She replies, kissing him again. She moves towards him, pushing him back so he is laying on the bed, resting on his chest as he brings his arms around her.

Emily wanted nothing more than to forget the outside world, their responsibilities, and stay in this sanctuary they had built for themselves in her hotel room. Her visit to the US this time was short, just a few days in California. The opposite coast to where he lived. But he’d travelled for her, dropped everything the moment she called and told him she was back, that she had a few days before her next assignment.

He’d been outside her door within 24 hours.

This thing between them was never meant to be more than once. Randomly bumping into each other at a conference in New York, an agreement to have one drink at the end of the day to reminisce about the days he had worked for her mother. One drink had turned into several, which had turned into her pressed against her hotel room door with his hand up her dress.

That was nine months ago, and they couldn’t seem to let each other go. Trysts that lasted days, secured in hotel rooms across the country. It wasn’t just sex, although it had started that way, they understood each other. They could speak for hours, the sun rising and blinking through cheap hotel curtains, or they could lay in silence, fingers trailing over skin as they took each other in, skating over the scars that they both had. She missed him when he wasn’t around, and she wished things could be different. That they could always have this, the gentle yet fierce way they cared for each other.

“What time is your flight?” He asks, his lips pressed to the top of her head.

“This evening.” She says, allusive as she always had to be. Reality setting in that this would soon be over, and she wouldn’t know when she would see him again.

“I won’t bother asking where you are going.” He says, no malice in his voice as he pulls her closer, his fingers tracing a pattern on her bare spine.

Emily had never intended on working at Interpol as long as she had. She’d almost quit after Ian Doyle. Getting as far as organising the paperwork, looking into jobs at the FBI to do instead, the time she had spent undercover fracturing her sense of self. But something made her stay, the pull of the intrigue, the adrenaline. Since she met Aaron, and it became clear that this thing between them was never going to just be once, she wonders if she would have met him working at the FBI.

In another life, the BAU could have very much been her thing.

She kisses his chest, her hand soothing over the thickest scar there. She remembers when he told her about them, about a man called George Foyet who had torn his life apart at the seams, and how he was still trying to stitch himself back together all these years later. A single parent to a young boy she would love to meet one day.

He was so haunted when he told her, the ghosts of his past making his eyes dull, as if he had been drawn back into the moment it all began. Desperately wishing he could change the outcome but never being able to. In return she tells him what she could about Ian Doyle, her first assignment when she was new in the job. Young and keen and how she got too involved, and how it had come very close to costing her her life a year before she met Aaron. His hand rests gently on her scar on her abdomen as she tells the story, his fingers tracing the raised skin that she couldn’t feel.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Em.” He says tilting her head so she could look at him. “I just worry about you. Sometimes it can be weeks without hearing from you. I just wish it could be different.”

“Me too.” She replies, her lips grazing his skin. “More than you know.”

They lapse into silence, his fingers trailing up and down her side and she wishes she could have this, have him, all the time. That they’d been fated to have more than what they’d been given.

“We could get married.” His words break through her thoughts, and it takes her a moment to register them. She sits up, a palm on his chest as she looks at him like he has lost his mind.

“What?”

“We could get married.” He repeats, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I wouldn’t be able to know what you were doing still, but I’d get updates about your safety. You’d get the same too if something happened to me.”

“Aaron.” She says, her breath catching in her throat. “That’s insane.”

“So is both of us flying all over the place just to grab a few days together. That hasn’t stopped us.”

“We’ve known each other for 9 months. We’ve spent only a few weeks together.” She says, sitting up, her eyes wide as she stares at him. “You have a son, and a job in DC. I work for Interpol. I haven’t had somewhere to call home in years. If ever.”

He sits up too, his hand grabbing at hers. “I love you, Emily.”

“I love you too.” She says automatically, like she’d said it 1000 times before instead of this being the first, because it was true.

“I’m not saying this solves everything. But it’s a start.”

She continues to stare at him and she eventually nods. “Ok.”

“Ok?” He asks, an unsure look on his face.

“Ok. Yes.” She says, laughing in disbelief as she smiles at him. “It’s insane. But I’ll marry you.”

He grabs her face, his hands framing her jaw, and he pulls her into a fierce kiss.

“Let’s go sweetheart.” He says, pressing his forehead to hers. “We have lots to do.”

“We’re going to do it now?” She asks, a brilliant smile on her face as he kisses her again.

“I’m not about to give you the chance to change your mind.”

They get married that day, slipping matching rings they spent way too much money on, onto each other's fingers. She leaves him laying in bed when she leaves for the airport, a kiss pressed to his lips that promised forever.

______

They keep each other a secret and it suits them both. Aaron wears a ring on his finger that prompts questions to which he gives vague answers. Partial truths about an old flame that he had run into, acting as if getting married spontaneously wasn’t completely out of character for him. Eventually the questions die down, Dave’s eyes lingering slightly too long on his left hand at times, the band of silver that Emily had put there standing out against his skin.

For Emily it works practically. It was something the people she tracked down couldn’t use against her, Aaron safe from the monsters she chased even if he wasn’t safe from his own. Clyde smirks at her when she fills out the forms confirming she has a spouse, a look on his face she doesn’t like. She wears a ring on a chain around her neck, sitting close to her heart.

They make it work. Short bursts of time together where and when they can. He brings Jack along, small vacations for the young boy she feels a burst of affection for as soon as she meets him, his fathers smile and understated kindness.

They live in stolen moments in their busy lives that mean everything to them both, the ever present hope for more simmering underneath.

______

October 2013

She always assumed it would be something happening to her that made her quit her job, finally decide to move in with Jack and Aaron in DC. But it’s him. She gets a call from Aaron, laying in his hospital bed after he comes round from surgery, almost two days after he collapsed in a briefing room at work. Foyet still hurting him from beyond the grave. Mumbled words down the phone about Haley and Foyet, and being happy, that make no sense to her, leaving her convinced he was high on painkillers.

Something in her snaps. The idea of her husband being hurt and her only finding out about it almost two days later made her realise they were doing this all wrong. That she loved him, and she needed to be with him. She gives Clyde her resignation letter with the same flourish she did her spousal paperwork almost 10 months prior, and she shows up at Aaron’s apartment and realises she hadn’t even spoken to him about it.

For a moment the shock on his face when he opens the door worries her, and she thinks she has miscalculated. But he pulls her into a hug, his lips firm against hers and kisses her until he winces, his incisions still healing.

When he realises she’s here for good he anchors himself to her, like she could change her mind in an instant. They fell asleep on his couch, their couch, and everything felt like it was falling into place.

______

At first she’s worried the fantasy will break. That the reality of life will fracture the relationship they have built around them, that cracks would appear now they had endless time together. It was no longer rushed and precious, desperate moments they could claw from their separate and busy lives. It was slower now, easier. He was trying to teach her how to cook, nothing but affection on his face when she managed to burn minute rice. She gently encourages him to relax more, watching with joy burning in her chest as he plays with Jack.

She finds even the things he does that annoy her, like how he leaves cupboard doors slightly open, or how he never finishes a drink, the last sip always left in the bottom of a cup, make her love him more. Soft affection for him running through her veins as she shakes her head and dumps the remnants of cold coffee down the kitchen sink.

She wakes up every morning next to him in their bed, a cup of coffee he made for her already in his hands, and she feels lucky.

______

December 2013

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Emily asks, watching Aaron cautiously as he pours them a cup of coffee each. She’s leaning against the kitchen counter, her arms across her chest as she looks at her husband, her bottom lip between her teeth. “The doctor did say you could take some more time off.”

“Em,” He places her cup of coffee on the counter next to her, and kisses her forehead, “I’m fine. The doctor cleared me.”

“You had internal bleeding.”

“10 weeks ago.” His hand cups her hip and trails up to her waist, settling there as his thumb skates back and forth over her ribs. “I’m ok.” He smiles at her, the smile that was reserved just for her and Jack. “Besides, I want to see my wife in action as Unit Chief of the Counterrorism unit.”

“You’re full of shit.” Emily scoffs and rolls her eyes, picking up her coffee to take a sip. “We aren’t even in the same office.”

His attempt at distracting her has failed, her hand reaching between them to needlessly straighten his tie, the worry he wants to free her from seeping back in. He would do anything to take that look off of her face, the concern shining in her eyes. An idea hits him quickly and he pulls back slightly, smiling at her.

“Wait here a second.” He stamps a kiss to her lips and walks away towards his home office, cool air chilling where he had been touching her only moments before.

Emily shakes her head at her husband's antics as she takes another sip of her coffee and checks the time, knowing they’d have to leave soon to make it to work on time. He’s back in the room in seconds, his hand clasping something she can’t see.

“I was going to give this to you for Christmas, but now seems as good a time as any.” He hands her a small velvet box, taking her coffee out of her hands and setting it down, and she raises her eyebrows at him as she opens it, a ring shining back at her.

“Is this an engagement ring?” She asks, looking back at him as a smile spreads across her face.

“Yes.”

“I hate to break it to you honey, but we’re already married.” She says, smirking at him before looking back down at the ring. It was beautiful. A princess cut centre diamond with a smaller one on each side. It would match her wedding ring perfectly.

“I do know that, sweetheart.” He takes the box from her and removes the ring before grabbing her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. Both of them smile as it nestles against her wedding band. “We got married the same day I proposed-”

“I don’t think that counts as a proposal.” She interrupts, a wry smile on her face.

“Em-”

“More like an instruction.”

He pulls her closer to him, hands on her hips as she laughs, her hands landing on his shoulders.

“What I am trying to say,” he says, kissing her, “is that I never got you one. You deserve the full set.”

“Thank you.” She says seriously, kissing him as her hands link behind his head. “I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Both of their phones ring almost simultaneously, interrupting anything further, and she sighs as she pulls back from him, reaching back up to press another quick kiss against his lips. She turns away and answers her phone, hearing him do the same in the background.

“Prentiss.”

She listens, taking a deep breath, as she is told about an emerging threat. How both DC Senators have been sent threatening letters, reports of similar correspondence being received in other states starting to trickle through. An explosion outside an office downtown being linked to the letters, the details too close to be a coincidence. She looks over at Aaron and hears snippets of his conversation as she takes in what she is being told.

“I’ll be in soon.” She says as she hangs up, turning to see her husband looking at her. “The senators?” She asks, pointing to his cell phone in his hand.

“Yeah. They want us to work with your team to build a profile.” He explains, putting his cell phone back in his jacket pocket.

“Your first case back and we’re working together.” She sighs as he puts his hands on her hips, pulling her back towards him. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to meet your team.” She grumbles, she sighs when he furrows his eyebrows, clearly confused. “I want to make a good impression, not be the Unit Chief from another department coming in and taking over the case.”

“We can tell them after the case.” He offers, moving one of his hands to push her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

She smiles at him and kisses him, her hands coming up to cup the back of his neck.

“You’ll have to keep your hands to yourself, Hotchner.” She murmurs against his lips.

“We’ll be working, Em. I don’t think I’ll exactly have time to grope you in front of everyone.” His hands move down to her hips, holding her in place as he kisses her again. “Besides, you’re worse than I am.”

She pulls back, a fake outraged look on her face. “Excuse me?”

“You can’t keep your hands off of me Agent Prentiss.”

“I bet I do a better job of hiding it than you.” She says, purposely taking a step back from him, her eyebrow raised in a challenge.

“I’ll take that bet.” He replies. “What does the winner get?”

She winks at him, a sly smile on her face. “Whatever they want.”

______

There was always some hesitance in his team to work with other departments. Anyone new always changed their dynamic, their usual flow becoming stilted, frustrating them all.

Aaron’s return to work after his hospitalization is overshadowed by the nature of the case, his welcome back mumbled by his team as he walks into the conference room. Case files already spread across the table, Penelope setting up the information on the board.

“Welcome back, Hotch.” She says, a quick smile flashing across her face at him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes thanks, Garcia.” He replies, sitting down at the conference table and grabbing one of the case files.

“Of course he is.” Dave says, a smirk on his face. “Rumour has it his mystery wife is now in town.”

Penelope gasps and turns to Aaron. “Really? Can we meet her?”

“Another time, maybe when we don’t have half a dozen Senators under protective details.” Aaron retorts, throwing a glare at Dave.

“Of course, sorry, Sir.” Penelope says, nodding, her smile giving way to her serious face. “Counterterrorism is on their way, I’ve been asked to brief everyone at once to save time.”

“Don’t they have a new Unit Chief that started a few weeks ago?” JJ asks. “Hell of a first big case.”

“I heard she’s really hot.” Derek says, smiling as he takes a sip of his coffee. “She’s the talk of the shooting range.”

Aaron feels his body tense immediately, jealousy he knows is irrational at Derek’s comment makes his jaw tense and his spine straighten.

Emily walks into the room followed closely by her team. Her face is neutral, and she walks over to him, her left hand outstretched, wedding rings on show.

“Agent Hotchner?” She asks, her face giving nothing away. He shakes her hand, not missing the way she squeezes a little harder than necessary. A small sparkle in her eye he knows the others won’t pick up on. She was going to make this as hard as possible on him, intent on making him lose their bet from that morning.

“Agent Prentiss, nice to meet you. Your reputation precedes you.” He says squeezing her hand back before letting go.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” She replies, clearing her throat before looking at the screen Penelope was standing in front of. “We’ll do introductions later, but we should get on with the briefing.”

Emily stands at the back of the room, listening intently as they are shown digital copies of the letters sent to the Senators, of the aftermath of the explosion. Aaron comes to stand close to her, but not so close it would draw attention from the others. She could smell him even from where she was standing, the usually subtle scent of his cologne almost overpowering, setting her senses on fire as it takes all of her self control to not reach for him. She briefly flicks her eyes to him and sees the slightest smirk on his face. The bastard had done it on purpose.

Winning this bet was going to be harder than she thought.

______

Aaron is walking back to his office after grabbing coffee when he hears it, laughter near Derek’s desk. He stops a few steps away, close enough to hear his team's conversation but far enough away that he remains undetected.

“I never said I was going to ask her out.” Derek says through slightly clenched teeth. “I just said what I’d heard in the shooting range.”

“Seems like you’re shit out of luck, Morgan.” JJ says, ignoring him entirely, laughing as she leans over his desk, Penelope behind her also grinning.

“What are you talking about?” Derek asks, turning in his chair to look at the two women teasing him.

“Didn’t you see the rings?” Penelope exclaims. “Super sexy Unit Chief is married. I was almost blinded by that rock I swear.” She leans in as if she is conspiring, but Aaron can still hear her from where he is standing. “I looked her up, she used to work for Interpol. So much of her record is redacted. Even I couldn’t break through.”

“Don’t we have a terrorist threat to look into?” Aaron finally interrupts, successfully suppressing his smile at the way they all jump and turn to look at him.

“Of course, sir.” Penelope says, clearing her throat as she stands up. “I’ll be in my office, I have CCTV to review.” She walks away quickly, as if she has been caught by her teacher misbehaving in class.

He turns back to the others and they already have their noses buried in case files, looking over the data again as they try to pull together a profile.

Aaron walks towards his office with a smile on his face, thinking there was something about even having Emily in the building that made him feel calmer.

______

The case drags on for nearly four days. The profile helps Emily’s team narrow things down, but not by enough. Everyone’s nerves were on edge, long days and short nights at home leading to short tempers and too much caffeine.

Aaron is fascinated by watching his wife work. The fierencess and graceful way she leads her team, the way she can handle the politics of it all despite hating it, skills she had picked up from a childhood that she wished had been different. She’s formidable, intelligent and he can’t help but stare at her, marveling at the fact that she was his.

She makes fun of him for it, calls him out in front of everyone when he stares at her a beat too long, asking him if he was ok with a shimmer in her eyes that screams mischief.

When they get home each evening, despite their exhaustion, they barely make it to their bedroom before her shirt is off and his pants are undone, desperate for each other as they collapse onto their bed.

She was better at hiding it than he was, but she loved to watch him work too.

______

Aaron isn’t there when the take down happens, only hearing Derek’s version of events when he casually relays to him that Emily had taken a boot to the ribs, the unsub kicking at her as she took him down.

He feels fear surge through him, enough to almost knock him off his feet, and he barely chokes out that he’s fine when Derek looks at him curiously.

She knocks softly at his office door only 30 minutes later, a smile on her face as she walks in, pulling the door closed behind her as she checks that the blinds are already shut.

“Hey.” She says, her voice laced with exhaustion. Now the case was done she was finally letting herself relax, the cracks in her facade starting to let her emotions show through.

“Hey.” He’s out from behind his desk and by her side before she knows it, his hands gentle at her ribs and she knows he’s already been told about what happened. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine honey.” She says smiling at him. “I’ve had much worse as you well know.” His hands drift over her abdomen, over the scar she bears just below her ribcage. Permanent markings left by the only other man she had ever loved. She tilts her head towards his office window, indicating towards his team. “Have they said anything?”

“They want to go for drinks, so why don’t we go. Tell them about us.” Aaron says, his hands on her waist. “Then I’m taking you home and looking after you.”

She narrows her eyes briefly, a retort that she doesn’t need looking after on the tip of her tongue when she realises what he means, a smile on his face that brings out both of his dimples.

“What did you have in mind Agent Hotchner?” She asks, smiling at him.

“Oh all sorts of things Agent Prentiss.”

He smiles at her, pulling her closer with a hand on her ass, swallowing the laugh it makes escape her as he presses his lips against hers. Her hands come up to cup the back of his head, her fingers gripping at his hair as he deepens the kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth. They lose themselves in it, forgetting where they are as they pull each other impossibly closer. He backs her up so she’s leaning against his desk, a small moan escaping her as the hand on her hip tightens.

“Sir, I just need you to - Oh my God.” Penelope exclaims, making them pull apart like they had burned one another, laboured breathing as they turn to look at the tech analyst, her eyes covered with the papers she was bringing to Aaron.

Emily clears her throat and Aaron wipes his mouth, remnants of her lipstick on his lips.

“Garcia-”

“No. No. No need to explain.” She says, finally pulling the papers down to look at them both, her eyes wide. “No need to justify what I just walked in on. I can come back later.”

She turns to leave, paperwork still in hand.

“Garcia.”

“Except,” Penelope says, turning around, looking back and forth between them both. “You’re both married. And honestly, I thought better of-”

“Garcia, we’re married to each other.” Aaron interrupts before she can go any further. He watches as she processes what he’s said, her eyes widening as she looks between them again, her mouth falling open.

“You’re married to each other?” She asks, and Aaron looks at his wife and grabs her hand, linking their fingers together as he nods in response. Penelope just stares at them, and Aaron thinks it might be the first time he’s ever seen her genuinely speechless.

“I was going to introduce her to you all when I got back to work, but then we got the case and we were told we’d need our teams to work together. We couldn’t afford the distraction” Aaron explains, watching as Penelope’s shock gives way to a smile.

“You’re the secret wife?” Penelope says, looking at Emily. “But you're gorgeous.”

Emily tilts her head, her eyebrows creased as she tries to figure out how to respond to that, but Aaron beats her to it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, frowning at Penelope.

“Nothing, sir.” She says, clearing her throat as she looks back at her boss. “It’s just we all assumed your wife either didn’t exist or there was something wrong with her. But she’s stunning, and smart. And she used to be a spy.” Penelope says, almost whispering by the end of her sentence.

“I exist, I promise. I can even show you the photos we took when we got married if you need proof.” Emily says as she bites back a smile. The room lapses into slightly awkward silence as Emily is unsure how to respond to the rest of what Penelope had said, the way Aaron had described her exuberance somehow understated.

“I should go.” Penelope says, pointing to the door as she finally passes Aaron the paperwork she had come in to give him. “Are you both coming for a drink?”

Aaron opens his mouth to turn her down, wanting nothing more than to be alone with his wife for the evening, only to be interrupted by Emily.

“We’ll meet you there.”

Penelope nods, the glee practically rolling off of her and she leaves the room, Aaron turns to Emily as the door closes behind the technical analyst.

“You realise she’s going to tell everyone, right?” He deadpans, making her laugh.

“Well it saves us a job.” She replies, closing the gap between them to kiss him.

______

They make it to the bar after everyone else, the whole team looking at them curiously as they walk in hand in hand. Emily senses the way Aaron tenses slightly, so she tugs at his hand, winking at him as he looks at her.

As soon as they join the others they are met with an onslaught of questions, pulled in different directions as Dave tries to pretend he knew all along, only to be corrected by Spencer who lets Aaron know Dave had been insistent that he wasn’t married at all. That the wedding ring was merely a ploy to stop him setting Aaron up with women he deemed suitable. Aaron can’t help but laugh as Dave mutters under his breath, sipping the expensive whiskey he had insisted on drinking.

Emily is pulled aside by JJ and Penelope, both women keen to find out as much about her as possible. She shows them the few photos her and Aaron had taken the day they got married. He wore one of his work suits, and she wore a simple green summer dress she had happened to have with her. A stranger had taken the photo at Aaron’s behest, and Emily remembered rolling her eyes at her new husband as he made her stand outside the random courthouse in California where they had officially started their lives together. Now she was grateful she had it, having become a talisman of sorts during the time they were apart for most of their marriage.

Eventually, JJ and Penelope go to the bar, asking if she wants to join them before she points to the beer in her hand. She considers going to join Aaron, rescue him from what she is sure is an intrusive conversation with Dave, when she hears someone say her name.

“I’ve got to ask, Prentiss,” Derek says, as he approaches her with a curious look on his face, “Why Hotch? I’ve been trying to figure it out since Garcia told us, but I just can’t place it.”

Emily smiles, looking over her shoulder to where Aaron was talking to Dave. They briefly make eye contact and her smile widens, Aaron winking in her direction, a silent reminder of their plans for when they get home. She turns back to Derek.

“He’s kind, unfailingly loyal, a great father, and underneath all the seriousness and stern looks he’s just someone who wants to do his best for his family.” She takes a swig of her beer before looking Derek up and down. “But you know all that, so what you’re really asking is why I married him.”

Derek raises his eyebrows, looking impressed and she smirks.

“Just because I’m not a profiler doesn’t mean I can’t read people.” She says. “I married him because he asked. And in that moment it was the only thing that made sense.” She continues, and Derek’s answer is a nod, and he takes a sip of his beer. “He’s also amazing in bed.”

Emily’s laugh, loud and beaming, when Derek spits out his beer catches the attention of the rest of the team. She looks over at her husband, and he looks so happy she can’t imagine being anywhere else.

______

By the time they get home she’s tired and knows he is too. Jack was at a sleepover, excited to spend some time with a friend, and they immediately head to bed, wanting nothing other than to fall asleep.

She’s already in bed, curled up and facing his side when he slides in next to her, his arms immediately pulling her closer to him, her head nestling into his shoulder.

“You ok?” She asks him, her hand coming to stroke his chest through his t-shirt, her fingers tracing mindless patterns. “Hell of a first case back, you must be tired.”

“I’m ok.”

It doesn’t convince her, he sounds distracted, like he was thinking about something else. She sits up slightly, her hands on his chest so she can steady herself, looking at him as she all but tries to read his mind. Their eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows at him, silently asking him to tell her whatever was plaguing him.

“They’re right, you know.”

“Who’s right?” She asks, frowning.

“The team.” The hand he has on her back stops trailing up and down her spine. “You’re way out of my league. You’re too good for me.”

She’d heard it. The varying degrees of shock from the rest of his team when they saw them together was not too dissimilar to Penelope’s reaction in his office. Raised eyebrows and disbelieving looks as they took in the news. It doesn’t stop her being shocked that he had taken it to heart. That he somehow believed she was better than him.

“Baby, that’s just not true.” She says, sitting up properly and dragging him up with her, her hands cupping his face. “If anything you’re too good for me.”

He scoffs, turning to look away from her but she holds his head in place, using her well concealed strength against him.

“It’s true.” She says, her thumb stroking at his cheek. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, ok?”

“We could argue back and forth about this all night.” He says, shaking his head before kissing her. “But we both have work in the morning, and they are going to be watching our every move.”

Emily groans before kissing him again, laying back down. “You had to be the Unit Chief of the team who study behaviour for a living. Couldn’t be white collar crime or something.” She jokes, laughing harder when he pulls her closer, his fingers tickling over her ribs.

“Like you would have gone for a guy presenting on white collar crime at that conference.”

“I should thank Clyde again for making me go to that,” She kisses him, her hand tangling in his hair, “I can’t imagine missing out on this. On you.”

“Me neither.”

“Should we tell them it’s our first wedding anniversary tomorrow?” She asks, settling back into his side.

“Oh god no, they’ll be insufferable.”

She laughs and curls into him as if he was her life line, the thing keeping her afloat.

“It can be our little secret.”

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

Could I ask for a fluff headcanon with Damiano but witha S/O who has the complete opposite aesthetic? (Sorry my english is not well I'll try explaining myaelf) but like the S/O wears fluffy dresses, frills, bows, soft pastel color, pinks (it's kinda my aesthetic, I hope you understood what I meant, love you!❤)

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦

a/n: that was one of my favourite requests >:) i'm a softie too myself, so my canons are my imaginary in a large measure. enjoy loves !!

you know that picture when the loli girl and darth vader give tips for each other in front of the pink atm? or when the most metal-head guy and the white-laced girl sits beside each other, eating ice-cream?

ladies and gentlemen, i just let you know that that's basically the two of you

when it comes out that the two of you are dating, you kept your instagram profile locked down, so nobody knows who you are, just from the bio and profile pic, but that's not everything (and the måneskin's and others's stories). so, everybody is freakin' curious about you !!

damiano steps before you in the crowd at the airport, or cross the hall in the hotel, the fans and cameramen expects the typic rocker-girl with black, smokey makeup, smudged, chrome lipstick, two-toned hair, chains everywhere on your body and platform boots–

but then here you are, all in your adorableness, laces and manifold skirts, pastell colors, white and silky long slveed blouses, and they're just... like, who's that girl? the manager? or just his sister, who clearly hates him

but when damiano holds your hand and kisses the crown of your hair, every flashlight begins to flicker like a bomb in the night. if you're uncomfortable with the lights, or the journalists, or just with the whole situation, damiano just strokes your face, keeping you close to him to keep you away from everything that can make you uncomfortable

now, thanks to you, the soft, ethereal styled people joins the fandom too, some fans even try to cross the two style, creating extravagant, but unique pieces –you even highlight the best works into your story, getting closer to the fans, and they're just adore you because of your immediacy.

but now, speak about just the two of you (you know, the spicy stuff uwu)

you can be shy, but i think the shy girls can be really horny, the only difference is that they're on the other side –the secret side, you know ¬‿¬

lacey outfits means that everything can be frilly and flowery –your skirts, blouses, bras and panties... did i mention that men can be turned on from intimation more than too much revelaing stuff? because yeah, damiano's head over heels for you when you wear that lace nightgown (we soft people all have and imaginary lacy nightgown that we could wear but we don't have, don't we? >3<)

he likes to stroke the nightgown and then your skin at night, saying stuff like "i can't decide which fabric is softer, love"

at one point, when you decide to try out new things, you sit beside him when his band take a break during rehearsal, you hold onto his arm as damiano scrolls through instagram, asnwering questions. lucky for you, a question is about "how doesn't get y/n bothered with that much layer? doesn't she get too hot?" "look honey, here's a questions for you" he says, but instead of grabbing his phone, you lean into his ear and whisper him a thing like "if i'm not weraing anything under those layers, i can't be too irritated, don't i? and... a dress can't make a girl hot, but her really hot boyfriend can."

he tosses his phone aside, pulling you into his lap, running his hands up on your thighs, ridding up your skirts bit by bit more, you try grab his hand, but instead of stopping, he kisses you roughly

"you spoiled my answer-session, baby, do you know how difficult is to reply to my fans with you around?"

yeah, soft ones can be perky ones too | ू•ૅω•́)

and i headcanon that that he would help to button up your blouse (ask him too if you want to button down, dam would do it much more gladly i swear （＞ ་། ＜)), or making your hair with a bow, stroking your face.

mystories, mystories, mystories !! i mean, social media au canon, but after your relationship is revealed, and your personality too, he would take pictures when the two of you go out to an antique store in the actual city, or when you set up a little picnic with him/and the other members.

vic and you are simply best friends, tiktoks and short videos about the two of you, holding hands, jumping up and down in a circle like too happy anime girls (is it too happy or am i just too positive today hkdshf)

you drag damiano, vic, ethan and thomas to watch some soft movies with you, like dead poets society or howl's moving castle, and when you come back with the sweets and elder-juice, you see the four rocker staring intently on the screen, watching as sophie and howl dance.

it turns out that it's much more better than anyone thought ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [4]  pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right? Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, cliche fluff, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT)

Notes: lil development right there HAHSHSHHS , yes tojis appearing soon guYS hddhdhdh thank u for ur patience ily all and yall stay safe and drink lots and ltos of water!! sorry for the late update!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

You stare at the ring on your hand as you stand next to Nanami Kento in the grocery shop, you and him have agreed to see each other and go out once a week while fixing up the divorce papers. 

Last week you both had gone to a cafe after work but had to end early since Yuuji had fell down the stairs (despite being athletic, the boy was awfully clumsy). This week, you both decided to do something mundane.

Grocery shopping.

“Hm, what does Yuuji think about this?” You asked, showing the man some bars of rice krispies, “He seems to be a sweet-tooth.”

“Sukuna is the sweet-tooth, Yuuji isn’t really picky with food.”

“Huh,” You hummed,  “Sukuna seems so soft despite all the tattoo’s.”

Nanami rolls his eyes at your statement, “He’s just, as kids like to call these days, a nerd.” he retorts, taking the peanut butter off the shelf and carefully placing it in the grocery cart, “He enjoys mathematics and art,”

“Ah, hence the tattoo’s.” you thought out loud.

“I almost lost it when he went home a few months ago looking like that.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It was a sign of rebellion, saying that he didn’t want to move to Tokyo.”

You chuckled, eyes on him, “Must’ve shot up your blood pressure, Kento.”

He clicks his tongue in dismay, the memory still fresh. Nanami Kento    unlike what Gojo Satoru said    was a very easy person to like and accompany. Ever since that ‘mild’ mishap two weeks ago, you’d have calls and little quick meet-ups aside from the once a week dates. 

At times it felt like the little wedding at the Izakaya hadn’t happened, it was as if you were just going out with him.

Nanami Kento didn’t even have to try so hard to make you comfortable, he was just...there and everything just seemed right. He had easily fit right in with your routine.

You continue to watch him and he stops in the middle of his tracks, blinking heavily, “Ah,” he mumbles, placing a hand over his eye.

“Oh,” you paused in your tracks too, “Are you alright, Kento?”

“Just dust,” He mumbles, “It probably got in.”

You hold back a laugh, how mundane, “Here, let me…”

You slowly take his hand away from his face, his eyes shut tight, trying to hold in the pain from the dust getting in his eyes, “Do you mind bending down a bit lower, Kento?” you ask, “I’ll have to blow it out of your eye.”

Nanami follows your orders and bends down. You slowly cup his cheeks and lean in closer to his eyes and softly blow. You notice the slight twinge of his body, the reaction making you inwardly giddy, “Feel better?” you whispered.

The older man opens his eyes and only then do you notice just how close you two were with each other. For a moment, movement around you is slow and you don’t even notice Maki Zen’in standing right in front of you along with Yuta Okkatsu.

“Sensei?”

You finally snap back to reality when you hear that very familiar voice calling you out. It seemed like Nanami had been caught up in the moment too, “Oh,” You cleared your throat, letting go immediately of Nanami’s face and jumping back, “Maki-chan.Yuta-kun. What a surprise.”

The young girl narrowed her eyes while Yuta’s ears were evidently red, signaling that he felt very embarrassed to walk in on that moment, “Hi sensei.” Yuta greets, clearing his throat, “I-uh sorry about that, I told Maki to walk away and-”

“It’s fine, Yuta-kun.” You laugh, a bit nervous. What would happen if she told Yuji and Sukuna about this? You knew how Maki was sort of close with the twins, although she did not know who Nanami was, she may describe him and if the boys were smart enough to catch on with it, you’d be entangled in it pretty quickly and you weren’t ready to meet them as their ‘oji-san’s’ partner. 

You were a bit nervous and it was showing.

Nanami takes quick notice of this and slowly wraps his fingers around yours, a small smile appearing on his lips, “Good afternoon, you must be my partner’s students.” he greets, the man had a way with younger ones, you could only imagine how he was as a father figure to the boys growing up,  “It’s nice to finally put some faces on the kids that Y/N loves to gush about.”

Unlike your nervousness a while ago, this man is calm, cool, and collected. You almost envy him at how good he’s doing this.

“At least you picked someone better than Toji-ojisan.” Maki nods, “This guy looks actually more serious with life than him.”

You feel Nanami’s brow quirk up at what she just said.

“A-Anyways, Sensei…” Yuta clears his throat, “We’ll leave you and your boyfriend together. See you at Math class tomorrow!” He hurriedly grabs Maki’s wrist and zooms away at a speed of light. Leaving you two awkwardly standing there.

“Toji?” Nanami asks, curiously peering at you, “An admirer, I assume?”

“Megumi’s otosan.” You mumbled, embarrassed, “He likes to play jokes and all that. It’s nothing serious.”

“Hm.” he mumbled, a small dismayed look crossed his features and you wonder why, “If he does anything uncomfortable, you can pull my name out. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.” 

You both continue your way down the grocery aisle, not even noticing that he still has his long hand wrapped around yours.

“Y/N-sensei…” Nobara drawled, placing her head on top of the wooden end of the mop, “How come we never knew you had a boyfriend?”

“Oi,” Megumi growled, “You’re supposed to be cleaning.”

“You’re just jealous that Y/N-sensei didn’t get to be your new okaasan.” Nobara bit back, putting her tongue out. You watched as the raven-haired boy chunk the blackboard eraser at her direction, a vein popping in his forehead.

“Stupid,” He replied, “I’d never let Y/N-sensei near the jiji.”

“What’s he like, Y/N-sensei?” Junpei asked, tapping his chin, cutting the argument short,  “I heard Maki-senpai talking about him.”

You watch as Yuuji placed his head on his best friend’s shoulder, “Yeah, she was telling me how older he looked than you.” he exclaimed, you nervously gulped down. Yuuji sure wasn’t helping the situation at all.

“Well,” You chuckled, trying to remain calm and oblivious, “He’s nice and he has kids.”

“Ha.” Sukuna droned, stopping whatever he was doing,  his punishment     despite not being given any by Nitta    was helping the cleaners clean for the whole week, much to his dismay, he had to follow or you’d be giving him a slip, “You’re dating an old man? I thought the reason why you didn’t date the Zen’in-jiji was because he was old and he had kids.”

“Oh.” you looked down on your books on the desk, embarrassed, “I don’t have a problem with kids. In fact, I’d love to meet them.”

“Wah,” Yuuji’s eyes were sparkling now as he hurried in front of you and placed his elbows on top of your table and head on top of his hands, “I hope I really get to meet someone like you, sensei.”

“Stupid, I doubt any sane person would want to go with you.” Nobara said across the room, making Yuuji glare at her and started teasing her.

You chuckled once again at their antics. Meanwhile Sukuna continues to stare at you, eyes narrowing especially at the ring on your ring finger. For some odd reason, it held quite the familiarity.

Yuuji likes to think that Nanamin is the best godfather out there, technically, he was like a father to them already. So he had always wondered why he never got married, he was sure that when they were out a few times, many women would crowd for their ojisan. 

His father’s very close friend, Haibara-ojisan had mentioned one fleeting moment back when he was babysitting them that Nanamin was very secretive on who he liked that even he didn’t know if he’d ever been in a relationship.

But things were different these days, for the past two weeks, he’d have one day wherein he’d go home later than usual. It was odd to say the least    and not like he minded really, they were high school kids after all     since Nanamin hated overtimes.

He mentioned it to Sukuna but his twin just rolled his eyes and said, “Man probably needs to chase the bag or something, he technically is paying for this nice house and two freeloaders here.” 

Yuuji doubted it though! Nanamin earned pretty well and he didn’t really need overtime since he was technically the boss or so he heard from Geto-ojisan a few nights ago.

So while he was making them some katsudon for dinner that night and Yuuji was doing some homework for your class, he decided to ask the question.

“Saaay, nanamin-ojisan…” he drawled, placing his pen down, “You’re coming home a lot later than normal these days…”

The older blonde turns to the younger twin, face still straight-lace and stoic, something that Yuuji was accustomed to, “Work has me by the neck.” he replies shortly.

“Every wednesday’s?” he quips, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.”

“You aren’t dating anyone?”

Silence erupted between them, the only sound could be heard was the sizzling of the chicken on the pan, “What made you say that?” he asked stiffly and maybe, if Yuuji was ignorant, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight twitch of his brow but he wasn’t.

Yuuji prided himself to be an observant person, someone had said he could pass off to be a detective in the near future, he had the agility and the observation skills (sukuna said otherwise though and said he’d get himself killed if he were to ever enter that field)

“You sometimes have that weird look on your face when you look at your phone.” the boy pointed out, “But Sukuna says you’re just chasing the bag so maybe he’s right, he’s kind of the smarter twin after all.” he mumbles the last part with great disdain.

Nanami lowers the fire on the stove and places his hands on the counter in front of Yuuji, “What if I told you I was sort of seeing someone?” he mused, humoring the young boy. 

“Are you really?” Yuuji’s eyes widened, surprised written all over his features, “What are they like, Nanamin-ojisan? Are they pretty? Do they know about us?”

“Oi what’s the noise about?” Sukuna’s raspy voice cuts through Yuuji’s excited one as he enters the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower and in house clothes with a towel hung on his neck.

“I told you Nanamin-ojisan was seeing someone!” Yuuji yelled, eyes sparkling since he was right this time, he quickly returned his gaze back to the older man, “When do we get to see them? Are they nice? How’d you guys even meet?”

“You’re seeing someone?” Sukuna spat, eyes wide in complete surprise, “How’d you even get someone to stay around with your uptight attitude?”

“Yah!” Yuuji yells, “Nananmin-ojisan is nice with women unlike you, no wonder girls are very scared to approach you!”

“Shut up,” Sukuna grumbles towards his twin then turns towards his godfather, “How the hell did you even meet?”

Nanami just shrugs, telling them they’ll know soon enough as he returns to his cooking. The boys seemed to dislike his answer though and continued to bug him. After cooking dinner and having their fill, he returns to his room and whips out his phone, a text message from you saying, ‘hey, the boys asked me about you earlier. They heard from maki-chan.’

The blonde wonders if he weren’t drunk, would he even consider doing this sort of thing? Dating was really out of the question, he admits he isn’t in the right place to go out with anyone especially with a young person like you. 

He thinks he’s taking advantage of the power-dynamics since he’s older.

He doesn’t even deny how weird it was that you're still hanging around him especially when you had a far richer man as one of your admirers. Satoru may or may not have overhead Yuuji gossiping about you one time and your ‘relation’ with Megumi’s father, it was definitely a small world and judging from the Toji you had mentioned a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots that it was actually Toji Zen’in, a member of one of japan’s high business clans.

He shakes his head before pressing the call button, it only takes a few rings until you answered, “Hey kento.” You greeted, “What’s up?”

He hears the sound of a whizzing electric mixer on the other line.

“Boys gave you trouble?”

“No,” he could almost feel the smile on your words, “They were just surprised I liked a man with kids.”

“I reckoned, Yuuji seemed to have caught up too in my side. Been asking why I’m going overtime.” 

Silence settled between you two for a moment and Nanami wonders if you’re scared out of your wits. You might be backing out this deal after testing those waters, “Maybe you should tell me when I could meet them then? We wouldn’t want them to run into us during one of our outings or when we’re fixing up the divorce.” you replied softly.

“Hm,” he mumbled, “I’ll be sure to ask them about that. For a temporary setting, you sure take this matter quite seriously, Y/N.”

“Well, I did say I’d help you out.” 

A small smile reaches his lips as he hears your small and shy voice. It seemed like having people to check up on you by the end of the day wasn’t so bad, after all.

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