#Requests Open

[sharieb]

Can I request headcanons where Lads men reacting to being alone with Non MC Reader, because MC tricked both of them to hanging with the three of them, to ditch them on the day itself so both of them can go on a date please? But Reader reassured him that he doesn't need to be considerate and stay!

Left on Read, Right into His Arms

pairings: LADs x Non-Mc reader (you)

Genre: Fluff, slight Humour

Writer's note: I literally just received this request earlier in the morning, and I kid you not, I had way too much fun making this. (sit in front of my laptop, crackling like a gremlin in front of my very weirded out, yet equally concerned brother) . Hope you all enjoy. (for bro's sake and sanity)

🍎Caleb

The moment you spot only one cup of tea at the table, your heart drops. No MC. No third seat filled. Just Caleb, serene as ever. Wait... she said she’d be here. She swore she’d drag Caleb along so we could hang out... together.

I check my comm. No response. Then a half-baked reply flashes across the screen: "Smth came up. You’ll be fine ;)"

“She ditched us,” Caleb murmurs, after glancing at his own message thread.

You knew it. She ditched you both. She left you alone with him.

What you don’t realise is that Caleb, though perfectly composed on the outside, is internally recalculating every breath, every sentence, every second. He’s never been good at surprise emotional proximity. 'She left us alone. Just us. And she knew. She knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool.'

“You don’t have to stay, Caleb.”

You flinched at how you blurted that, too quickly. “I mean, she tricked both of us. You probably have better things to do. I won’t be offended—”

He sets his tea down with deliberate calm, eyes locking on yours. “You think I’m here because she asked?”

Your breath catches. “Aren’t you?”

His tone softens, but it cuts straight through you: “She invited me, yes. But I stayed because you said you’d be here.”

Oh. Oh no. Oh gods, he knows.

“...You don’t mind?” you manage.

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t mind. Unless you do. But if you don’t... I’d like to finish this tea with you.”

🐦‍⬛ Sylus

The warehouse is empty. Silent. Only Sylus and you, standing awkwardly in the echo of MC’s absence. She said she needed backup. She said we’d all be together. She knew I wouldn’t say no if Sylus was coming...'

You flick open your comm. Still no reply. One message marked "Read." Nothing more. 'She did this on purpose. She set me up with him. Alone.'

What you don’t know is that Sylus had already figured it out hours ago, and he's been pacing mentally ever since. He won’t admit it, but his heart jumped the second he realised it’d just be the two of you. 'Don’t act too eager. Don’t say something soft. You’re Sylus, not some idiot with heart-eyes. But damn it, she’s looking at you like that again—and now I can't stop thinking about how cute she is when she panics. Careful, or you'll end up saying something stupidly sweet by accident.' “That damn brat,”

Sylus huffs, reading something on his end. “She planned this.”

Your chest tightens. “Y-Yeah. You don’t have to stay, y’know. If she ditched us, you don’t have to suffer through awkward silence with me.”

He turns sharply, lips twitching into a crooked smirk. “You think I’m suffering? That’s adorable. Maybe I’m just here to see how red your face gets when you realise it’s just us.”

You freeze. “I mean-...not suffering suffering. Just. You didn’t ask for this. You probably had something better to do, and she just—”

He steps closer, close enough that you catch the faint scent of metal and spice. “You really think I need her to manipulate me into being near you?”

Your brain bluescreens. “I thought... she was the only reason you...”

Your words trail off.

He chuckles low, almost fondly. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve waited to be this close to you, without her between us, little Dove.”

You are not breathing. Someone call Dr. Zayne.

❄️ Zayne

It was supposed to be a calm lunch. MC said she needed both of you to “decompress.” She even picked the café.

Zayne and you wait. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. You try calling her. No answer. You send a quick text: "Hey? You coming?"

No reply. Then, finally, a notification buzzes. A too-cheerful, clearly pre-written message: "Sorry! Something came up. You two have fun ;)" Wait. Wait, no. She set this up. Oh god. Oh, stars above.

Your heart starts thudding like it’s trying to kick through your ribs. You force a smile and glance at Zayne, who’s just started sipping his tea with unnerving composure.

Realising what was going on, Zayne’s calm face remains as a mask, while on the inside, he’s panicking. Okay, this is not good. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I make a fool of myself? But mostly... what if she thinks I don’t like her? “Hey, um... You don’t have to stay anymore.”

You say a bit too fast, trying not to visibly panic. “She clearly bailed. And this probably wasn’t... what you signed up for.”

Zayne blinks, caught mid-sip, then carefully places the cup down like it’s suddenly fragile. “Do I seem uncomfortable to you?” “No! I mean-...not at all. I just... I didn’t want you to think you had to be here just because-” “Because of her?”

Zayne asks, and it’s so gentle, so awkwardly sincere, you nearly combust.

You nod weakly, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “Yeah. I mean... I thought maybe you were being polite.”

Zayne opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks to the side. Then finally mutters, “I don’t do things out of politeness. Not when it comes to you.”

Your heart stumbles. He clears his throat like it physically hurt to say that much. “You really thought I needed her here to want to see you?”

Zaynee adds, quieter now as he gazed at you. “I wouldn’t have come if it weren’t for you. Honestly, I almost cancelled when I thought it was just a group thing.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait-...you did?”

He gives the tiniest nod, ears turn the softest shade of pink. “I’m... not great with crowds. Or surprises. But I’m glad it turned out like this.”

“You are?” you breathe. “Only if you are,”

He replies quickly, eyes wide like he just realised he might’ve said too much, and his ears are now tinged a bright red.

The tension shifts... still awkward, still tender, but it’s sweet. And it’s yours.

🎨 Rafayel

The gallery is loud with art but silent between you. Just you and Rafayel. No MC. She told me it’d be a trio visit. Said she wanted me to see what he’s working on. But she’s not here. She’s not even answering my calls.

You check again. Finally, a single text: "This was for you two anyway. Enjoy <3" MC… you didn’t.

What you miss is Rafayel’s subtle shift; he’s been mentally rehearsing lines he never thought he’d need to say. All while acting unfazed. She left me with her. Alone. Don’t panic. You’ve had weeks to practise for this. “Ahh, abandoned again,”

Rafayel sings boredly, spinning lazily on his heel. “She’s clever, I’ll give her that.”

Your throat started to dry out from nervousness. “You don’t have to hang around, y’know. You probably had your own plans-”

“Plans?” Rafayel echoes, mock-offended. “Cutie, I cleared my whole afternoon the moment I heard you’d be here.”

You blink once, then two more times at what you just heard. “But... she was the one who invited-” “To see what I was painting?”

He steps closer, a rare seriousness in his gaze. “I wanted you to see it. Her being here... was just noise.” Okay. Okay. Heart, slow down. “You’re not... upset?” “That she ditched us?”

Rafayel grins as he took you hand in his. “Only because it ruined her chance to watch me fall for you in real time.”

✨ Xavier

You were supposed to stargaze. MC said she had a new telescope attachment. Said it’d be relaxing. Said you could all use the quiet.

But only one blanket’s here. One figure is seated on the hill with you. Xavier.

You check your comm. One reply: "He needs this. You do too. Trust me."

Then radio silence. She did this on purpose.

Xavier sits calm and still, but beneath the surface, his mind is already spiralling. What if I say the wrong thing? What if she leaves? I can't lose this moment. Not when it's finally just us. “You don’t have to stay.”

You murmur, fumbling with the hem of your baggy, oversized sweater. “It’s fine. You didn’t sign up for this.”

Xavier doesn’t look away from the sky as he replies. “Why would I leave?” “Because it’s just me now. And you don’t owe me-”

He finally turns to look at you. “I don’t stay out of obligation. I stayed because you were going to be here.”

The silence between you stretches. Soft. Fragile. “I thought... You only ever wanted peace. Quiet.” “And I find that in you. She knew it. That’s why she didn't come along.”

You’re not sure what’s brighter, the stars or the feeling blooming in your chest.

[monzabee]

mr work dork and miss work dork lover - s. reid

criminal minds masterlist ||

Summary: spending an early morning with Spencer before both of you need to go to work.  

Pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

Word Count: 0.9k 

Warnings: kissing, gilmore girls reference (we can be friends if you caught that)   

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“Look who’s awake, sleepyhead.” You hear his voice before you open your eyes. How he knows you’re awake, you’ll never know, but you imagine it has something to do with the fact that he profiles people for a living.  

You whine out intelligible words that Spencer can’t quite comprehend, but then he manages to understand between your whines, “I’m still sleeping, stop making conversation with me.” 

Spencer chuckles, his voice warm with amusement. “Technically, if you’re still sleeping, you wouldn’t be talking.” 

You groan in protest, burying your face deeper into the pillow. “Stop using logic against me.” 

You hear the rustle of fabric as he shifts beside you, and then the unmistakable weight of an arm draping over your waist. He’s warm, the kind of comforting warmth that makes it even harder to want to leave the bed. “I read a study once that said waking up to a familiar voice can make the transition from sleep to consciousness much easier,” he muses, his fingers lazily tracing patterns against your hip. 

You peek an eye open, glaring at him half-heartedly. “I hate that you make everything sound like a lecture.” 

Spencer grins, unfazed. “And yet, you still keep me around.” 

You let out an exaggerated sigh, finally turning toward him. “That’s because I tolerate you.” 

His smile softens as he leans in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. “Oh? Just tolerate me?” 

You hum, feigning deep thought. “Well… tolerate, like, adore—same thing.” He laughs, and the sound is so light, so full of something fond, that you can’t help but smile, too. His fingers continue their lazy movements against your skin, lulling you into that perfect space between wakefulness and sleep again. “Five more minutes?” you mumble, already snuggling closer. 

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “We really need to get up for work, angel.” 

“But Spence,” you drag out his name, whining, “I thought you loved me.” 

“I do love you.” He says, chuckling as he presses a kiss onto your pouty lips, “But our bosses won’t be too happy with us if we’re late now, will they?” 

You scoff, “Hotch loves me.” 

Spencer huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Hotch tolerates you.” 

You gasp, scandalized, finally prying your eyes open to glare at him. “That is not true. He has a soft spot for me.” 

Spencer raises a skeptical brow. “Hotch has a soft spot for Jack. Maybe for Rossi’s cooking. But you?” 

“Yes, me,” you insist, propping yourself up on an elbow. “Remember that one time I brought him coffee before a case, and he actually smiled?” 

Spencer tilts his head, pretending to consider. “That was more of a… mild decrease in his usual frown.” 

You roll your eyes, flopping dramatically back onto the mattress. “You just don’t want to admit that I’m his favorite.” 

Spencer hums, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “You are my favorite,” he murmurs, voice softer now. 

You feel your heart stutter at the sincerity in his tone. He always does that, throws out some offhanded, devastatingly sweet comment like it’s nothing. Like it’s the easiest truth in the world. Smiling, you reach up, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. “Well, you’re mine, too. Even if you do use statistics against me before I’ve had coffee.” 

Spencer grins, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll make you a deal—if you get up now, I’ll grab us coffee on the way in.” 

You groan, burying your face in his chest. “Fine. But only because I love you more than sleep.” 

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll take it.” 

“Can I at least get a kiss first before you make me leave our warm bed?” Spencer smiles, leaning in, his eyes flickering between yours and your lips. You can feel his breath against your skin, the warmth of him so close, and you tilt your head slightly in anticipation. Just as his lips are about to brush yours, he suddenly pulls away, smirking. You blink, momentarily stunned. “Spencer Reid, did you just—” 

He’s already rolling off the bed, stretching like he didn’t just completely leave you hanging. “We’re going to be late,” he teases, heading toward the dresser. 

You throw a pillow at him, groaning in frustration. “Work dork!” 

He laughs, catching the pillow mid-air and tossing it back onto the bed. “Work dork lover,” he calls back, grinning at you. 

You narrow your eyes. “Not anymore. You’ve lost your privileges.” 

Spencer raises a skeptical brow. “Oh, really?” 

“Yep. No forehead kisses, no hand holding, no cuddles—” Before you can finish, he’s already moving back toward the bed. In a blur of long limbs and mischievous intent, he cages you in beneath him, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“You sure about that?” he murmurs, tilting his head as he studies you. 

You swallow, suddenly very aware of how close he is. “M-maybe…” 

Spencer’s smirk deepens. “Maybe?” 

Your resolve crumbles when he dips down, lips ghosting over your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth—but not quite kissing you. “You’re the worst,” you whisper, your fingers gripping his shirt. 

He finally presses a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and teasing, before pulling back just enough to grin at you. “Still the worst?” 

You exhale, dazed. “I take it back. Work dork lover is acceptable.” 

Spencer laughs, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before standing up. “Come on, angel. Coffee’s waiting.” 

And, as much as you hate to admit it, he wins this round. 

[robiberon]

Hiii i wanted to say i love your art :3 and this might be a bit dumb but i love how in the art of eowyn in the fourth age you show at least part of a naked body without making it inherently sexual. I feel like today, its a bit of a hard concept for people to grasp that being naked doesn’t equal smut. But anyway!!

And if you feel like making it, i would live to see more farawyn art from you, and or eowyn and merry snd faramir snd pippin art :)

Thank you so much!

It's not dumb at all! i also get annoyed when ppl sexualise every bit of exposed skin :') and i think it's such a shame, too, because we miss out on the vulnerability that comes with showing one's body (esp when there are scars/ visible marks of trauma and stuff)! it's some good shit! let ppl be naked! also naked bodies can be pretty without being sexual!

Anyway, i always feel like making farawyn art <33

you can even have another sketch as a treat:

[muted--dreamer]

Takinggg crk art requests in my askbox cause I just want things to do

They likely won't all be pretty finished pieces but yk, I would like to practice some stuff at the very least

And, as a treat, here's a doodle I did on my phone over the past few days (started on Tuesday while on a bus and "coloured" the other night)

I kind of wanted to attempt some rendering on it but I don't actually think I'll get around to it

[ghastly-artist]

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't replied (or read) any DMs yet, I've been having a difficult last couple of days, been grieving the loss of a friend and all that.

Today was a particularly difficult day, I was (am) quite sad.

If anyone wants to send me asks for me to read later when I get home from walking my beloved Doggo 💜 I'd love that!

I'm taking art requests at the moment (I can't guarantee that I'll draw EVERYTHING, but I sure will do my best for my followers/and do my best for anons too! 🩷).

(some will only be sketches and some might get finished, and I might not be inspired by some others but I thank you in advance for taking the time to send them).

My current and favorite Fandoms are : Final Destination Bloodlines (especially Erik) The 100 (Murphy my beloved) + Murphamy, Merlin BBC (Merthur), Jeanmarco (haha the good old days :') ) and Steddie. I have some more but I have adhd and I got distracted, so that's all I can think of for the moment 😂 😂

ANY ships within those Fandoms are welcome, this is a safe space for everyone to do whatever the heck you want (as long as you stay nice and respectful) ! 🩷

Also I love Whump soo 👀 That's welcome too 😂.

Ahhh, I miss when people would just come write unhinged AU stories or fanfictions or elaborate drawing ideas inside your DMs and you'd get feral with other fans and send back and forth reblogs with stories and fanart and enable an entire Fandom doing so haha 😂

Sorry I'm being a nostalgic old fart tonight!

I'll be back later now ~ see you in a couple of hours sorry ~

[6feathered6siren6]

I’ve had this thought for a while,

What if the MC was a cannibal but when they joined the server nobody knew until one day it just comes out. Like imagine Angles reaction 😭

Savory Dishes

Authors note: I wrote this quickly, but I enjoyed writing this. Might continue this as Angel x Reader making dinner together, or reader making them soup while Angel is sick. Dunno yet. Anyway, please stay hydrated during this heatwave. Enjoy o7

Trigger warnings:

Human meat/cannibalism

Prepping human meat for dishes

---

Addictive. Savory, and delicious. It was hard to get human meat, either from having to kill or getting it on the black market. But human meat was your go to meat. It was better than other products you have tried in the past. 

Prepping and making food with it was an adventure of its own, since there weren't many recipes out there to get. From stew to skewers to sandwiches. But not only from prepping but testing each part was also a journey. 

–

It’s been a couple months since you found this weird server you have been invited to. And with the jokes you have been hearing, Angel was also a cannibal like you, though they have denied it often, so you don’t know if it was true. But the server has been fun, learning how each one kills to their own personal adventures in life. 

You checked the server through your phone as you cooked. Making yourself a version of stew with human meat, it was a bit of a process, but it was worth it. You watch the server plan a voice call with little plan, just a random call with a small topic about killing. You just shrugged and figured to join later. 

Once you were done, you got a bowl of your stew, letting the stew to cool down further before putting it away. Getting onto your computer, clicking it on, and waiting for it to boot before joining the server’s discord. 

Joining in, there was mostly everyone, except Ai hua and Vince. But there was everyone, and they were on the topic of body parts. From what you could catch. 

“Look, if there has to be a part to eat, I would say it would be a thigh!” Luca yelled into your speakers. 

“Luca,” Feli dragged out the word as her boyfriend finished his turn. “Why do you have to bring this up again?”

“Why not, Fel, this has to be a conversation with the rest of the server!” 

Feli groaned. 

Ronin spoke, even though you couldn’t see his face, you see he was pleased with talking about eating people. “Yeah, Angel, this should be a topic up your alley.” He chuckled. 

“Really, Ro?” Angel groaned, you can see her eyes roll even though you can’t see her.

Misaki patted their desks as they got excited, “Oh, oh! The eyes have to be good! Right? They are like gushers or a popping dumpling.”

You paused from lifting your fork to your mouth to speak. “Nah, they taste nasty. They are really nasty, I would say neck or upper torso.” Then take a bite of the stew.

The VC became quiet. Like deathly quiet. 

“HUH?!” That was the only thing you heard before the VC crashed on you, kicking you out. Somehow, it took a moment, before you join back in. 

“Sorry about that,” You said. “I got randomly kicked out. Now what happened?”

“READER!” Misaki yelled out. 

Ronin spoke, “Guess Angel isn’t alone eating us. We got another to help her. Guess you gotta share now, Angel.” 

Angel groaned. 

“Yes, Misaki?” You said, mid-bite.

“Cannibal? You? I thought you just… y’know kill people but eat them too?”

“Yes, I eat people, I’m eating human stew, which by the way, perfectly made.”

V was weirdly silent, but it might be because he’s just listening in. 

“So that’s why you know!” Luca yelled out, “You eat them!”

You snort.

“Look, if you know how to cook it, bring the Saint with you, I’m sure she would enjoy your time making a divine dish.”

Angel was also quiet, you didn’t notice, but befores you could worry about anything. She said, “That would be interesting.”

—

From that day, they demanded some photos of the food you eat. Sandwiches with sliced meat, bbq ribs, and so much more, there were days where you were asked for recipes. But they were shocked with how much experience you have with human meat. But then again, it was your preferred meat.

[infectedrpd]

✞⠀┈⠀⠀Heartstopper themed masks⠀⠀𓂃

₊﹚⠀req by⠀;⠀anon

₊﹚⠀f2u /w⠀;⠀credits + reblogs

₊﹚⠀minor edits allowed

⠀†⠀f2u without credit only if requester.⠀†

[reality-itself-but-magic]

boosting this because I WANT REQUESTS AJDHSKDJDJ

Writing requests open!!

As a celebration for hitting 50 followers, I've decided to start taking writing requests!

— Word count will most likely be 1-3k words ^^

— I'm offering headcanon lists and oneshots, maybe twoshots if someone requests a sequel

— Fandom-wise, I'll be writing star wars exclusively. Currently, I'm only taking prompts for these anything involving the clones and pre-empire Jedi (especially Ahsoka Tano, The Disaster Lineage, and Quinlan Vos).

— I'd love to do reader-inserts and reader/character but! I'm not comfortable doing any romantic /reader prompts. I might write the odd canon/canon romantic pairing but romantic fic really isn't my thing (aroace gang rise up).

Boundaries:

— I will not be writing NSFW.

— I reserve the right to just not answer your prompt - y'alls ideas are awesome but sometimes the inspiration just doesn't hit 😔

I'll be writing in slots of three! Currently 0/3 taken.

Format: feel free to make a request as hyperspecific or vague as you'd like! Specify if you want something romantic or i'll assume it's familial.

[minimiance]

size difference kink but in the “i grew up being made fun of for being chubby so now the idea of a giant of a man being able to toss me around and tower over me without making my weight a problem makes me really horny” way, you get what im saying?

[bunnis-fanfics]

NSFW

“Don’t you want a kiss?”

You whined at him ur boyfriend as he teased you, his fingers knuckle deep in your needy cunt. Today, you were a bit bratty and he was tired of that.

“Please…” you murmured, your lip wobbling. He chuckled at you, curling his fingers to hit that special spot that had you cumming again. “I-I’m sorry… I’m sorry for being a brat…”

This made him coo, and he finally leaned down to give you a sloppy, heated kiss. Finally getting to taste his tongue and feel him explore your mouth and you cumming again, squeezing his fingers.

“I see you’re done being such a brat. Maybe I’ll let you have my cock tonight if you act right.”

———————

GOJO|| GETO|| TOJI|| NANAMI|| CHOSO|| ILLUMI|| FEITAN|| CHROLLO|| KURAPIKA|| EREN|| ARMIN|| REINER|| ERWIN|| LEVI|| DILUC|| CHILDE|| YOUR FAV

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Watching his fingers pump in and out of you after he’s stuff you full of their cum.

“Don’t you waste a single drop…”

He coos so softly, placing a kiss on your belly as he keeps your plump thighs open. Your pussy is gushing, you’re about to cum again!

“Ah… it’s coming out, I’m gonna have to fill you up again, aren’t I? We need to make sure it takes…”

And so he pressed the head of his cock against your pussy again. You already feel so full…

But he’s going to make sure you end up with a cute baby bump~

——————

|| GOJO|| GETO|| NANAMI|| CHOSO|| TOJI|| KAEYA|| AVENTURINE|| DILUC|| SCARA|| RENGOKU|| SANEMI|| KURAPIKA|| ILLUMI|| CHROLLO

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

Vampire lover that can’t drink your blood without you keeping his cock warm.

He has to be balls deep in your pussy, otherwise he gets all hard and cums in his pants just from one sip of your blood.

It’s just way less messy to already have his cock buried in your cunt, and he doesn’t like to waste his seed. He’s a powerful vampire that needs an heir, that sperm is valuable!!

So every time he needs to feed, he pushes your expensive panties to the side and sits you on his cock, content to cum inside of you.

[thecutestgrotto]

Starry Night

It’s been a while since I’ve done something that wasn’t a request, so this was nice. 🩵🌸

• set inspired by Van Gogh’s Irises • Famous Art Collection •

[canaryhare]

peent

[monzabee]

pleading the fifth - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: a rather... interesting complication happens when jack’s nanny is called to school by the principal. the only person who can save either of them? it's aaron, of course.  

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 2k 

Warnings:  yelling (kinda), poor Jack is punished without a reason, other than that none?  

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

You’d consider yourself a rather calm person—a pacifist, really. You don’t confront people, you don’t get unnecessarily angry, you can’t even recall a time you’ve raised your voice in public. But right now? Right now, you are trying your hardest not to bash the principal’s head into his desk as he stares you down. It’s a glorified staring contest between the two of you, with Jack as your unwilling audience and referee.  

When the school first called you to tell you should come into the principal’s office, you thought of the worst. The worst being Jack having an accident, or one of the crazy criminals his dad deals with escaping prison and somehow finding him—which should serve as a reminder for you to stop falling asleep to murder podcasts.  

But no. Instead, you find yourself in a situation so utterly ridiculous, so mind-bogglingly absurd, that you’re starting to wonder if Aaron spiked your morning coffee before he went into work as a juvenile prank. “You’re telling me,” you say slowly, pressing your palms against the desk, “that Jack is in trouble… because he didn’t answer a question in class?” 

“He was exhibiting disruptive behaviour, which hindered the ability of the other students in class to participate.” The principal explains, he’s an aging man with thinning hair and an ever-present scowl, folds his hands neatly in front of him and you find it hard to take him serious due to the absurdity of the situation.  

You blink. “Disruptive? He didn’t even talk!” 

“His silence, Miss Y/LN,” he points out, whilst he’s pointing at Jack, “was disruptive to other students.” 

Jack, sitting beside you, shifts uncomfortably in his chair. His little hands are folded in his lap, his lips pressed together in a firm line. He looks more annoyed than guilty. Your feel for him, for you know he’s not a bad kid, he’s the complete opposite, really. “But still. You called me down here because he didn’t want to answer a question?” 

“Yes,” the principal continues. “His teacher asked the students to share what their parents do for a living. When it was Jack’s turn, he refused to answer.” 

You glance at Jack. He meets your eyes and gives the tiniest shrug, as if to say Yeah, and?You return your attention to the principal. “With all due respect, I don’t see the issue here. Jack’s dad is a federal agent. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it.” 

The principal sighs, rubbing his temples as if you’re the one being difficult. “Miss Y/LN, we encourage transparency in our students. Sharing personal details fosters a sense of community and trust within the classroom.” 

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline. “And you think forcing a child to disclose information about his father’s dangerous job is a healthy way to foster trust?” 

The principal’s scowl deepens. “It sets a precedent. When children refuse to participate, it encourages others to do the same. That’s not how we run things here.” 

Jack finally speaks up, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. “I did participate. I said, ‘I plead the Fifth.’” 

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. 

The principal looks unimpressed. “That’s not participation.” 

“Actually,” you say, unable to help yourself, “it’s a constitutional right.” 

Jack nods excitedly. “Exactly.” 

The principal rubs his temples. “Miss Y/LN, this is not a debate. We called you in because Jack’s response was disrespectful and set a bad example for his classmates.” 

“Oh, come on,” you say, exasperated. “He’s a seven-year-old, not a criminal. He didn’t swear, he didn’t insult anyone, he just chose not to disclose personal information about his father. And frankly, I think that’s smart.” 

“Oh, you misunderstood me—he talked about Mister Hotchner’s job.” The principal clarifies, “He refused to tell the class what his mother does as for a living.”  

You blink.  

Once. Twice.  

Slowly. 

Jack is still staring at his lap, clearly uncomfortable. The principal is watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for you to snap your fingers and magically produce an answer that will satisfy him. You take a breath, steady and slow, before asking, “And did it not occur to you that Jack doesn’t have a mother?” 

The principal’s expression falters for just a second before he recovers. “Well, I—” 

“No, really,” you cut him off, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk. “What exactly were you expecting him to say? That she passed away? That she’s not in the picture? That it’s none of your business?”Jack’s fingers tighten around the hem of his shirt, his small shoulders hunching. “Because all of those things are true, and dare I say, this is just a great ground for a lawsuit.” 

“I—” The principal clears his throat. “We didn’t realize—” 

“Oh, you didn’t realize?” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re an educator, and you didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, forcing a child to talk about a subject he’s uncomfortable with might be a bad idea?” 

The principal shifts uncomfortably. “Miss Y/LN, we were only trying to encourage openness. Jack could’ve explained it to class—” 

You’re done. You pull out your phone and hand it over to Jack. “Go out and call your father, tell him to come here as soon as he can.” 

And Jack, being the sweet and smart kid that he is, doesn’t hesitate for a second. He takes the phone with a small but satisfied smile, hops off his chair, and walks out of the office, pressing the call button as he goes. Once you’re satisfied he’s out the door, you turn back to the principal.  

The principal watches him leave, his jaw tightening. “Miss Y/LN, I don’t think involving Agent Hotchner is necessary—” 

You arch a brow, crossing your arms. “Oh? You don’t? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you want to discipline a child for not wanting to discuss his dead mother in front of his classmates.” 

The principal shifts in his chair. “That is not what I said—” 

“It’s exactly what you said.” You let out a slow breath, reigning in the urge to throw his stapler at him. “Look, Jack is a kid. A good one. He’s polite, he does his work, and he keeps to himself. If he chooses not to answer a personal question in class, that’s his right. And you know what else? If Aaron were here, I guarantee you he’d be saying the same thing—but with a lot less patience than I am.” 

Aaron Hotchner is used to walking into tense situations. In fact, he thrives in them. He’s spent years profiling criminals, negotiating with hostage-takers, and dissecting the minds of the most dangerous people in the country. But right now? Right now, as he takes in the scene before him—his son looking uneasy, you standing rigid with barely contained anger, and the principal sitting behind his desk with an expression that’s quickly morphing from smug authority to barely concealed nervousness—he knows exactly what kind of situation this is. 

It’s one that will not end well for the man in front of him, and not because he’s about to chew the principal out, but because you’re just as angry as he is.  

“I’d like to hear why my son was called in for disciplinary action.” His voice is calm. Even. But it has the weight of authority behind it—the kind that makes grown men break eye contact and shuffle in their seats.  

The principal straightens, clearing his throat as if that will make Aaron any less unimpressed. “Well, Agent Hotchner, I assure you this is simply a misunderstanding,” the principal starts, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Jack refused to participate in a classroom discussion, which we found to be disruptive.” 

Aaron’s jaw tightens. “Disruptive,” he repeats flatly. He’s aware that the look he gives the man is quite off-putting, but he couldn’t care less given that his son has been put on the spot. 

“Y-yes,” the principal continues. “We encourage transparency in our students, and when Jack chose not to share what his mother does for a living—” 

Aaron hears you scoff at the flimsy excuse the principal offers. He also hears the faint shuffling of clothes, and he doesn’t need to turn around to see that Jack has tucked himself over to your side. It’s a comforting thing that he does whenever he feels overwhelmed, and though the two of you have tried very hard to help him overcome this, he feels glad that Jack has you at the moment to bring him relief.  

“He doesn’t have a mother.” Aaron’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. Sharp. Final. He’s also very aware of the fact that your lips are curling in an unapproving way, and of the fact that this can be an uncomfortable topic for most. But why should his child be put in an uncomfortable situation by the very people who are supposedly tasked with his well-being. 

The principal falters. His mouth opens, then closes, before he manages a weak, “I wasn’t aware.” 

Aaron’s expression remains unreadable, but his tone drops, making his displeasure crystal clear. “Then maybe you should have been.” 

Beside him, you shift slightly, and when Aaron looks over the shoulder to you, you have your arms protectively around Jack as you level the principal with an unimpressed look. “That’s what I said.” 

Aaron almost smirks. Almost. But the sight also tugs at some of the strings of his heart. 

The principal stammers, scrambling to regain some semblance of control. “Agent Hotchner, I assure you—” 

“Assure me what?” Aaron interrupts smoothly. His voice remains even, but there’s a razor-sharp quality to it now. His annoyance is amplified due to the fact the he is back at looking at the middle age principal instead of his son and you, but he tries to remain as stoic as he can. “That you failed to consider the emotional well-being of a child under your care? That you thought coercing him into sharing deeply personal information was an acceptable way to foster ‘transparency’?” 

The principal swallows. “I—” 

Aaron doesn’t give him room to recover. “Jack is a child. A good child. If he chose not to answer a question, there was a reason for it. And instead of respecting that, you decided to make an issue of it. You called in his guardian, wasted her time, wasted my time, and most importantly, made my son feel like he did something wrong when he didn’t.”The principal’s face is rapidly losing color, and you find it highly amusing to watch Aaron tear him a new one as you absentmindedly stroke Jack’s hair. Aaron takes a step forward, just enough to make the older man shift uncomfortably in his chair. “Jack will not be receiving any disciplinary action for this. Furthermore, I expect a formal apology from both you and his teacher.” 

“Agent Hotchner, I—I don’t think that’s necessary—” 

“I do.” 

The silence in the room is suffocating. The principal, realizing he’s backed into a corner, nods stiffly. “Of course.” 

Jack may be young, but he isn’t oblivious. He understands things far too well for a child his age—has seen too much to be anything but painfully aware of the way the world works. And right now, he understands that the adults who were supposed to protect him in this environment have let him down. 

Aaron takes in a slow breath and releases it just as steadily. He won’t let this moment define Jack’s time here. He won’t let this school—this principal—become another source of stress in his son’s life. 

He turns his attention back to the man in front of him, watching the principal squirm under his gaze. “I trust this won’t be an issue again.” 

“No, sir.” The principal nods quickly, his hands folded tightly together on his desk. 

The final look Aaron gives the man is cold, and you’d be lying if it isn’t at least a little bit satisfying to watch. With the matter settled, Aaron turns to Jack, his face softening. “Let’s go.” 

Jack doesn’t hesitate. He hops off the chair and moves toward his father, but not before looking up at you. There’s something in his gaze—relief, maybe, or gratitude—and your heart clenches at the sight. 

You ruffle his hair playfully. “Come on, kid. Let’s get out of here before your dad arrests someone.” 

Aaron sighs. “I don’t arrest people for incompetence.” 

You smirk. “Pity.”