cookedmaruchan

[holysweetnachofries]

how do you guys make any friends in your universities, i've tried talking a lot (considering how socially anxious i normally am most of the time) but i still can't land a single circle and it makes me really sad

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[poppadom0912]

Excuses

Warnings: Mentions of fainting, diabetes, canon-typical injuries

Summary: You suffer the consequences just because your teacher thought you were making excuses.

A/N: First fic of 2024!!! I had plans that I was going to post weekly in the new year just like last year but things went downhill. This january and february has had its very good but also really bad moments and even writing this was a struggle. I've found myself in a weird place of wanting to write but struggling and all of a sudden not being able to balance my schoolwork and writing. So I took a lil step back to solely focus on my work but looking at everything now, my fic updates will be much less frequent but hopefully just as or if not, more fun to read.

I feel bad for not saying or posting anything since the new year but I'm here now and hopefully will be more alive. I've got lots planned for you beautiful people, several series and way too many fics in my drafts that I cannot wait for you all to read. This wasn't as long or as juicy as I intended but my brain completely failed me so I hope this is good enough. I initially wanted to post this at the beginning of March but I finished the final editing today so here you go!!

Final note before we start, I have general knowledge about diabetes but that's all from my grandma. I have no idea if it's the same for teenagers so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Happy reading!!

Your biology teacher had been on maternity for three weeks now and you were seriously contemplating life.

Because of the crappy rules surrounding maternity leave, when your teacher refused to return before her three months ended, your school had a supply teacher fill in for her till she came back.

Since day one, you knew you hated her.

It was mid lesson and you knew as soon as you started feeling sluggish that your sugar levels were dropping. Your thoughts were only confirmed when your Dexcom receiver let you know of your decreasing glucose.

This wasn't a usual occurrence. Will and Jay always made sure you had eaten enough and you had the means to maintain the needed glucose levels so that nothing happened.

Alas, you were up late revising and you were stressing about keeping up your good grades. Jay was rushing you out the door because he needed to go to a scene he'd just been called to and Will was out walking Kol and hadn't seen you leave.

In conclusion, it'd been a hot minute since you last ate something.

The school were well aware of your diabetes. It was one of the very important things your brothers stressed them about when you first started.

Most students knew about it actually, having seen your Dexcom and not understanding since a diabetic child apparently wasn't common according to them.

So, when you randomly pulled out a snack from your bag mid class, no one questioned it and instead would make sure you were okay. There'd never been a problem before in school and everyone wanted it to stay that way.

However, this new teacher, Mrs Byrne was apparently completely unaware of your medical condition.

"Y/N. You know the rules about eating in class." She said strictly, pulling away all the attention from the board onto you.

She stopped you in the middle of opening the packet of fruit gummies. You frowned, looking at her confused along with your classmates.

"I have diabetes." You said bluntly, continuing to open the packet. "I don't eat this and I'll pass out."

Mrs Byrne only rolled her eyes, smiling at you condescendingly. "I've heard that excuse hundreds of times, give those to me."

You scoffed at the audacity, refusing to hand over what was yours.

It was when she started walking towards your desk with a pep in her step that the entire class got involved. Their raised voices overlapped, some angrier than others over what was happening.

However, you too were Stubborn alike to your brothers so you kept as firm of a grip of the packet. You turned a blind eye to the anger fuelled cover teacher. You continued to smile as she spewed threats of all sorts.

Due to your frustration and annoyance over the teacher who wanted to take your gummies away, you didn't notice how everything started change; how hard it was to move your eyes and lips, your limbs getting heavier and you thoughts slowly getting muddled up.

Lost in a daze, you were no longer able to fight back when she pulled harder, successfully snatching the small packet out of your hands. It was now that the class got furious, your friends were already up and at your side but now they were verbally attacking the teacher.

Fed up with her petty behaviour, you were going to get up and go to the nurses office who would take care of you but getting out your seat was harder said than done.

With one of your friends help, you weren't too sure who was helping you from your hazy sight that cleared when you blinked too many times.

You were wobbly on your feet, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the front of the classroom but before you could leave, you felt your legs give out and everything went black.

*****

It turned out that supposed crime scene that he was imminently needed at was nothing but a prank by a bunch of college boys resulting in a grumpy Hank putting them in cuffs and having them fined for a very reasonable reason.

That's how the rest of the unit found themselves finishing up paperwork, catching up about life in general as they debated what they were getting for lunch.

Jay was smugly sitting back, eyes flickering between Kevin and Adam who were bickering over something trivial when his phone rung, catching everyone's attention.

They were all so bored and normally when one of their phones went off during work hours, it meant something came up and they were needed.

In interest, everyone turned their heads towards Jay and waited for him to tell them they got a crime scene.

Picking up his phone, Jay's brows furrowed at the number, confused as to why your school was calling him in the middle of the day. They'd only call him if two things happened: You'd gotten in trouble or you got hurt.

"Hello. Is this Y/N Halsteads brother Jay?" A voice he couldn't recognised asked, most likely some lady from the main office.

"Yeah, that's me." Jay confirmed, sitting up in preparation for whatever he was going to be told.

"So sorry to interrupt you sir but Y/N collapsed in class." The lady said with guilt laced in her words. "Your other brother didn't pick up the phone. We called to let you know we had to call the paramedics and they've taken her to Chicago Med."

"Uh yeah." Jay said, collecting his jacket and keys. "Yes, thank you."

Not waiting for a reply, Jay hung up and quickly knocked on Hank's office door frame.

"Sarge, I gotta get Y/N-"

"Go get her. We're done here."

*****

Wanting to pull his hair out, Will rubbed his eyes in frustration, glaring at his patients scans that only confused him further. He was tired and was coming to half way through his twenty four hour shift.

"Dr Halstead- Uh, Dr Rhodes in T4." Maggie stumbled, looking down at her brick and making sure she read it correctly.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, confused as to why Maggie changed her mind which she usually never did.

"It's Y/N."

Now fully awake, Will followed Connor towards the ambulance bay where you were being rolled in. You were groggily sitting up on the stretcher, you hair a mess and a few scratches around your face and hands from when you fell.

"Sylvie, what happened?" Will asked the blonde paramedic while looking you over. He desperately wanted to check you over himself but let Connor do his thing. He really did not need Ms Goodwin on his case today.

"Teachers didn't tell us much but her classmates said she collapsed after not being able to eat." Sylvie relayed the minimal information she knew, shrugging her shoulders when the two doctors looked at her weirdly. "No one would tell us anything more."

"Y/N, it's Connor. Can you hear me kid?" Connor said while pulling out his penlight. He was like another brother to you, his concern just as high. "Can you tell me what happened?"

You groaned, mumbling nonsense with your eyes screwed closed. Your words were mostly unintelligible but Will understood them mere seconds later.

Fixing the problem you complained about, Will turned down the lights and let Connor continue fussing over you.

It didn't take long to find out the cause of your collapse, Will sighing at the news when he read the numbers from your tests.

"I thought she was always on top of her sugar levels." Connor said, closing the room door so you could sleep in peace.

And what he said was completely true but they weren't aware of why you couldn't today specifically of all days.

"She is." Will said, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. "Maybe her dexcom malfunctioned or something."

Connor hummed, agreeing with his friend.

"Hmm, maybe."

*****

Arriving at Med, Will gave Jay a detailed rundown of everything he new about your medical state but also the events pre your hospital arrival.

Getting a good look at you, holding your hand in his and kissing you on your forehead, Jay was more than happy to leave you in your oldest brothers safe hands while he got to the bottom of this entire ordeal.

He noticed Sylvie was still at Med, Foster mentioning they were running low on a few supplies so they needed some stocking up. Jay took this opportunity to interview the two paramedics and try to get further understanding on this situation that wasn't making much sense to him.

Arriving at your school, Jay had some thoughts in mind but they weren't very concrete and his confidence wasn't as strong as he'd like it to be.

Walking into the school, Jay immediately noticed an entire class sitting and standing around in the corridor waiting in front of the principals office.

One of the girls who had been sitting in a chair had caught sight of Jay, her eyes widening before she smiled, gently nudging the girl next to her and pointing in his direction. The girls reaction was the exact same.

This created a sort of domino effect as the boy next to her noticed Jay and everyone was telling the other of his sudden arrival. The once silent corridor was now beginning to fill with murmurs and whispers, all their eyes glued onto his figure that moved down the corridor, their shocked faces quickly changing into smiles and smirks.

It seems that Jay had a reputation of sorts.

"Why are you making so much noise? What did I just say about talking-"

The principal cut himself off from his scolding when he suddenly noticed Jay's presence, his face blanching as all the pieces clicked into place.

"Detective Halstead! What a surprise, we weren't expecting to see you so soon-"

This time Jay cut him off, not too bothered about his lack manners. "My brothers with Y/N at the hospital so I thought there was no other perfect time."

The principal remained silent.

"Now, why don't you explain to me why my sister fainted under your watch?"

The students behind Jay couldn't help but snicker knowingly.

[urprettylittlething]

Breeding Experiment

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Another part of CursedKitty universe! After a few very late nights and some glasses of wine I present to you a NSFW oneshot drabble thing where they fuck and want to breed Kitty :) I warn you this is my first time trying to seriously write some smut let alone a breeding kink so i apologise profusely in advance if this sucks, do let me know how it is <3 (and thank you to the lovely person to suggest breeding link <3) If you want to send in your own ideas for Kitty, my inbox is open! <3

summary - Gojo and Geto found out they can fuck you, can they breed you?

warnings - Dubcon/Noncon-ish? Kitty is having a pretty good time but they didnt ask for consent and she doesn’t really understand, female anatomy, they call Reader 'Kitty' and 'Experiment' a few times, cum, eating Kitty out, smut, breeding kink, vague Yandere vibes, they’re a little mean, (let me know if i need to add more please)

genre - Oneshot Drabble thing

wc - 1.3K

Edit - spelling and grammar fixed 09/10/23

Gojo was leaning back against his headboard, a few pillows stuffed underneath him. His legs were spread in front of him, knees bent so he could dig his feet into the mattress below him. Kitty was in his lap, her back resting against his hard chest. Her little tail was wound tight around her waist to keep it from getting crushed between the two of them.

The only thing she was wearing was a long and clean shirt, given to her by Satoru. She wasn’t wearing any underwear as him and Suguru deemed it unnecessary. She was for their eyes only so it didn't matter too much to them, and Kitty didn't seem to mind either. She looked similar to how the two of them first found her, but now she was cleaned, properly scrubbed and groomed to their satisfaction. 

Her Kitty ears were pressed flat against her hair as she pressed against Gojo. Each leg of hers had been hoisted up and over Gojos, keeping them hooked back and her pussy exposed. 

‘She’s such a dumb little thing.’ Gojo thought to himself. There she was, squirming against him, trying to close her legs. Not even thinking of just lifting her legs up so she could close them. No matter, it made his job so much easier of keeping her upper half restrained. 

He had wrapped his hands around her wrists and kept them tucked against her own chest. ‘And what a tease too.’ All of Kittys squirming had riled him up, getting him hot and bothered the longer she unintentionally grinded her ass against his hard cock. 

Suguru on the other hand had been between her legs for just over twenty minutes now. Eating her out like it was his last meal while she mewled, gasped and cried against Gojo. 

If Gojo was being completely honest, he didn't expect him and Suguru to take it this far. But they couldn't help their naturally curious nature.

Especially after the first bath they had been forced to give her. The both of them had quickly figured out just how little she knew, or understood for that matter. Rendering her useless to do most things by herself when she didn't understand them. 

Anyway, it was only natural for their eyes to wander, allowing themselves to take in the full image of her nude self. 

It shocked them a little to see just how much she resembled a human girl. She was equipped with full anatomy (atleast to their eyes on the outside), except the ears and tail of course. So it was only natural, the curious human nature of them, to think about whether… well… whether she worked or not. 

It had been around two weeks since then and in Gojos opinion he would say the two of them had held out pretty well, given his inability to be patient most times. But alas, here they were now.

Suguru groaned from where he was slurping Kitty’s juices from between her legs. “From all the curses I’ve had to swallow, she has to be the sweetest.”

Gojo gave a huff in response, a tad salty that he didn't get to go first, but it's whatever. The view he had been blessed with almost made up for it anyway. 

And of course poor Kitty seemed overwhelmed already, her chest heaving, body hot and sweaty, her ears flattened and twitching against her head and eyes half lidded. Her pouty mouth open, gasping and mewling incoherent noises at the pleasure Sugurus tongue was forcing her to experience for the first time. 

Every flick against the sensitive little nub causes her hips to jerk, mewling even louder. Every wiggle of his tongue inside her caused her to squirm even harder against Gojo as she cried out. 

“Poor thing,” Gojo murmurs, “I doubt she even understands what we're doing to her. Atleast shes enjoying it.” 

Suguru finally pulls his face away from her pussy, rising up to kneel on his legs from between hers. His mouth and chin were covered in Kittys juices. He starts pulling off his clothing, using his shirt to wipe around his mouth. 

As he was pulling off his last article of clothing, Kitty was starting to squirm again. Making little noises and whines that neither of the two really understood, not quite understanding why the stimulation had all of a sudden stopped. 

They had quickly figured out that she couldn't communicate with them in any language. Tugging at their shirts and whining at them to indicate she needed something. Although they had learned that she could understand them, to a certain extent. 

Gojo hushed her and leaned down to press gentle kisses against her exposed neck. “Shh.. Calm down Kitty. Suguru is going to take real good care of you now.” She seemed to calm a little at that. 

Suguru leaned forward, now on his knees between them. With Kittys forcibly spread legs, courtesy of Gojo, on either side of him it allowed him to place his hands on the flesh of her thighs. The tip of his throbbing cock now poking and teasing at her little hole. 

“Should be nice and easy, Kitty. Nice and wet, such a good girl for us, huh?” Suguru said, beginning to push his way into her tight hole, loosened up a little from his tongue. Kitty’s walls fluttered and pulsed around him while he bowed his head and groaned. 

“God, for a curse this pussy is tight. Warm too.” He muttered as he inched himself further into her heat. 

“Bet she could take both of us. Such a dirty little kitty we have on our hands, enjoying Sugurus cock so much, aren't you?” Gojo teased as she mewled and moaned and pawed at them. Her head was tilted back and resting against his shoulder, a small dribble of drool escaping down the side of her mouth. He couldn't blame her, after all, she had bigger priorities to worry about right now. 

“Could fill this pussy up so well. Breed her like the bitch she is.” Suguru groaned, furrowing his brows as he began pumping in and out of her tight walls. 

“You think we could breed her?” Gojo perked up a little in interest. The thought was certainly entertaining given the throbbing in his pants. 

“If we stuff her full enough, probably.” He grunted in response. Beginning to thrust his hips into Kittys even harder. Wet, slapping sounds filled the room they were in, almost louder than the little curse situated in Gojos arms. 

She began to pant and whine, droplets of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she squinted, her tongue poking out from between her lips. They both could take a good guess as to what was about to happen. 

Suguru began to fuck into her even harder while Gojo reached down with one hand, the other keeping a hold of her wrists, to flick and rub and pinch at her little clit poking out from all the pleasure.

Kitty screeched and cried as her ears trembled and her tail shuddered from where it was wrapped tightly around her. Her orgasm overwhelmed her, causing her pussy to tighten and gush with even more juices. Making the sounds from between them sound even wetter.

Suguru threw his head back, groaning as he emptied his load deep inside her as Gojo leaned down to whisper into her ear.

“We're going to breed you, you’d want that right? Have your tummy round and full with our child, all for you to look after. Stuffed full with our cum, our perfect little experiment, huh?” His fingers are still rubbing and circling the throbbing nub, making her cry and tremble and squirt more of her juices.

He only stopped when Suguru had recovered and began pulling himself out of Kitty’s fluttering walls. Both pausing to stare at the way his cum oozed out from her little pussy.

Kitty’s eyes fluttered while her ears relaxed against her hair, closing her eyes in bliss and seemingly exhausted. 

Suguru and Gojo looked up at each other after a moment of silence between them and what had just occurred before he spoke up.

“Come on Kitty, my turn.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Misdemeanor of the Heart (Chapter 12) Human Alastor x Married Reader

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Domestic violence

AN: I'm sorry for the delay, I've been sick since Thursday and most of today. Please accept a 5k word chapter in exchange for being a day late.

(optional fucking off AN): I did try to quickly edit it quickly for posting today but alas, my illness quickly slipped out of control and I quickly slipped into a four hour nap and my condition quickly slipped worse. We must spare a moment of thanks to @redvexillum for quickly slipping in and quickly plunging her fingers into MisD's raw core. This is how I repay her.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

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Masterlist AO3 KoFi

The couch was uncomfortable under you. Was it the couch or the way you sat with your back straight and teetering  on the edge of the seat? Emotions curdled in your stomach, settling in a ball you struggled to identify as anything more than an overwhelming feeling of dread as you watched Laurence slip on his coat. 

For the majority of the week, your husband had hardly been home. At first, it was a welcome reprieve. You took solace in the peace and safety of having the home to yourself in the evenings. You made simple, small dinners that you enjoyed and didn’t require much clean up. The radio kept you company, the rich tenor of Alastor’s voice carrying through the house as you cooked and cleaned.

When Laurance wasn’t home, he wasn’t hitting you. When he was away, he wasn’t desecrating your body for his own carnal pleasures, leaving you sore and broken from serving your wifely duties. When he was away, you could eat to your heart’s content without his biting remarks about how much you ate and didn’t eat. You could indulge without having to hear his cruel excuses about why he refused to let you update your wardrobe to stay on top of the latest fashion trends.

How nice it was to have the house to yourself did nothing to change the simple fact that him spending so much time away from your marital home didn’t sit right with you. It was a wife’s protection to have her husband present in the evening. His absence left you vulnerable, even though his presence had its own danger, at least it was familiar and predictable. 

“Where are you going?” The question was out before you could stop it. You feared you already knew the answer, but what harm was there in letting him lie to you?

“Got a business meeting,” Laurence said despite not being dressed for a business meeting.  He looked too casual for that, open collar and sweater vest clinging to him, highlighting the frame that had once been nothing but muscle but now held a layer of softness.

It reminded you of how he looked when he would take you out to dinner during the courting days For a business meeting, he would wear a meticulously pressed suit, his hair perfectly styled, and every detail about him polished to a shine. 

“Is that so?”  It wasn’t your intention to question him but the murmured words were out before you could stop them. It wasn’t a wife’s place to question her husband’s whereabouts or his business. Stay home. Take care of the home. Raise babies when they come along. Don’t ask questions. 

Long strides took him across the room before you had a chance to soften your words or make yourself scarce. He loomed in front of you, reaching out quickly and for a moment, a panic you had never felt before flooded your body as his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed. 

Laurence inflicted countless horrors on you throughout your marriage. He’d violated you against your will, used your body while you slept. He’d taken you against your will, he’d taken your body in your sleep. He’d struck you and thrown you, filling your days with screams and pain. But through all that, one thing he had never done was make you truly fear for your life - until now. 

“It’s not your place to question me,” Laurence reminded you, squeezing. Your hands reached out, wrapping around his arm as your eyes widened. Gasping breaths struggled to push through the constriction of his hand. Your heartbeat drummed against your ears, beating rapidly from the adrenaline that flooded your body as Laurence ensured your eyes had nowhere to look but at him. “Unless you want to piss me off again. Is that what you want, sweet thing?” 

“No, Laurence.” Your voice trembled as his grip slowly loosened around your neck while his lips curled into a sadistic smirk.

His thumb caressed your jaw as his smile suddenly softened. Leaning in, he closed the final gap between you. He pressed a sickly sweet, mocking kiss to your lips, a cruel imitation of the stolen kisses lovestruck girls would dream about.You had never understood the desire to have the lips of another on you. You were thankful when he pulled away and his hand completely dropped from your neck.

Laurence reached into his pocket, pulling his wallet free. It was a crisp leather billfold. It was newer, a recent gift from his father before he had passed. His final gift to your budding family was leaving Laurence, his only son, the family business. The clinking of coins was loud, almost louder than the heartbeat still thundering in your ears as he moved coins around, hunting for a few quarters.

“Here,” he grabbed your hand, turning it palm up after slipping his wallet back into his pocket. The weight of the coins settled into your palm and he curled your fingers around them, touch soft. It was nothing like the harsh way he had been grabbing you just minutes prior. 

“Don’t lose them,” he teased you softly. The smile on his face and the tone of the teasing had reminded you of the hopes and dreams you held in the past, when you were little more than a girl dreaming about what married life would be like. You could see the young man, hardly more than a boy himself sitting between his parents on the other side of the table from you and yours, looking at you with curiosity and hope. Was this what that young man had thought married life would have been like?  “Buy yourself something nice. Treat yourself.” 

“Okay,” you said as you watched him turn, making his way out of your marital home. A small voice in the back of your mind screamed that he was going to the bed of another even though you dedicated your life to being a good wife for him, taking beatings and affection without complaint. You took everything he gave you without complaint in the name of being a good wife. You silenced that voice, strange and out of place though it was. It was just a business meeting. Nothing more. Just a casual business meeting. 

It was like you were frozen in place as you waited for the sound of the car leaving the driveway. The memory of the kind man with sweet words you had met a lifetime ago warred with the still too fresh feeling of his hand around your neck.

As the engine faded in the distance, you finally stood and made your way over to the small table that held your purse. There was nearly nothing in it at the moment, it was a few more days until he would give you the money for the week’s shopping. The quarters clinked together as you dropped them into the small coin purse, rattling against a few pennies.

It would be nice to go out, you told yourself as you absently rubbed your hand against your neck, trying to rub away the memory of Laurence’s hand constricting around it. It wasn’t like he had squeezed that hard, you told yourself as you walked through the house, shoes echoing with each step. It startled you, that was all. You overreacted, you told yourself as you stepped out of the back door and onto the porch.

The absence of sun didn’t mean you were taking the day off washing. The air was cool but the clothes would dry just the same, as long as the rain held off, that was. First you would finish scrubbing the smear of pink off Laurence’s collar, ink he assured you, and then you would head to the pharmacy.  

The pink smudge on his collar screamed liar. It screamed that he was lying to you. It screamed that you were lying to yourself. 

It was just ink, he told you. Paint. Don’t be daft. . 

Don’t be a silly woman. 

Heavy clouds covered the sky for as far as you could see and the chill of early spring was biting in the air. If you were unlucky, they could mean rain for you but their light color told you it was doubtful, though not impossible. 

Excitement sparked in your chest, spreading through you as you saw a familiar mop of brown hair on an imposing figure. He looked tall and lean, even wrapped up in a long coat that would leave other men looking softer and wider.  

“Alastor!” You called out to him, waving your arm over your head to catch his attention. 

He turned toward you, his smile radiant and welcoming, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made your breath catch. You hurried to his side, heart racing, though you had managed to maintain some semblance of composure despite the way you had called out to him on the street. It was something you’d normally never do, it drew attention. You had to remind yourself to walk, not run, no matter how much you longed to close the distance. 

What would people say?

“Darling! Lovely to see you.” Alastor greeted you, his warm smile making your pulse quicken, though you couldn’t understand why.  “What are you up to today?”

“Just finished at the pharmacy.” 

“And what’s next for your adventures of the day?” Alastor motioned for you to join him, walking down the sidewalk together. He kept himself between you and the street, ensuring you were shielded from traffic and the dangers that they could pose. There was nothing his presence could do to stop a car going off the road but he was far less likely to be overlooked than you. 

It was strange how the same action Laurance would do felt different coming from Alastor. Why was that? Was it the way he rested his hand on your back, ensuring you felt secure? When his hand would drop, he would take your hand and tuck it around his arm. Somehow, he was always connected to you, not just walking alongside you but walking with you. 

“Probably nothing,” you confessed before remembering, “Oh!”

“Oh?” Alastor mimicked the sound though it did not sound mocking coming from him as it would have if Laurance had done it. There was something about him that put you at ease. Perhaps it was his smile? 

You pulled your coin purse out and fished out two dimes. Again, propriety slipped your mind as you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. His hand was warm in yours. The coins clinked against each other as you softly dropped them into his much larger palm.“I still owe you for how you took care of me.” 

“It’s unnecessary,” Alastor offered you the coins back, however you just pushed his hand back. “Helping pick the curtains was more than enough.” 

“Then to pay you back for the handkerchief,” Alastor could see that you were not going to let this go. The pace had slowed as you both gave each other near total attention.

“Please? I would feel better about it if you took it. I,” you hesitated, “I don’t want there to be any debt between us.” 

“If it’ll put your heart at ease,” Alastor smiled at you as he let the coins fall into his breast pocket. 

“It’ll put my mind at ease,” you corrected him, marveling at the fact that you felt safe enough with him to do so. If you had dared to do the same to Laurance you would have been swiftly reprimanded. It wasn’t a woman’s place to correct a man. If you were unlucky, it would be a painful lesson that would leave bruises healing over a few days. 

“That too,” Alastor’s smile twitched a bit higher. “I have a suggestion, rather than going straight home and wasting away as a lonely housewife, how about you and I pass some time? Or is he waiting for you?” There was a tone to the way he said ‘he’, refusing to say your husband’s name as if speaking of him more directly than necessary was poison or would ruin the day. 

“That wouldn’t be proper.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, feeling the twinge of pain as hard teeth grazed over a still healing split you hadn’t realized was still present. 

“So, he’s waiting for you?” Alastor looked at you, eyebrow raised. 

“No,” you admitted and his smile grew wider, beaming at you. 

“Wonderful, let’s get coffee.”

Your eyes grew wide as you looked around. It would be bad enough to be seen walking together so closely, you realized but to be overheard making plans? You couldn’t agree, this was already far too much risk. Temptation to agree wrapped around your heart. “Alastor, someone could see.” 

“Nonsense, the alley is just ahead. My car isn’t too far. You can wait for me, I’ll grab it, swing by for you and we’ll be off.” Alastor motioned toward an alleyway ahead.

“What?” 

“Just tuck yourself into the alleyway and you can jump in the car when I pull up.” He snapped his fingers, emphasizing his perfect plan, “I know a hole in the wall joint on the other side of the city. We can sit out of view, have a cup of coffee and pass some time. I can drop you off on my way to the station.” 

You hesitated as Alastor held the car door open for you. This wasn’t the best part of the city. Trash gathered, swept into the corners and against the curb by wind. People wearing tattered clothes milled about, some clearly intoxicated. Poverty colored everything, from the people to the buildings and yet the sound of children’s laughter carried down the street, reminding you that there was joy everywhere if you were just willing to see it. 

That didn’t make you hesitate any less when it came time to step out of the car. Eyes flitted around, trying to reassure yourself that you would be safe. Would someone run up and snatch your coin purse? Could you blame them when it looked like many of the people were rubbing pennies together?

“It’s alright,” Alastor’s fingers wiggled as he held his hand out for you. “There’s no one around here who would tattle to him about where you are or who you’re with. They’ve all got bigger things to worry about.”

“Is it safe?” After a moment more of hesitation, you offered him your hand, letting him enclose it in his. He steadied you as you braved stepping out of the car. 

“Of course, my dear! I’d never take you somewhere I wouldn’t be able to assure your safety.” Alastor tucked your hand around his arm as he led you from the car. Your heart pounded in your chest, only speeding up when his arm would brush your shoulder as you walked closely together as your simple heels clicked along the sidewalk along with his polished shoes. 

Part of it was fear. Part of it was something you couldn’t name. Maybe you could, if you let yourself think on it for longer but you were not sure if you wanted to. You were married. This was improper, yes, but it was still just a coffee shared between friends. 

The hinges of the door squeaked loudly, screaming in pain from years of lackluster maintenance as Alastor opened it. He held the heavy door open and ushering you inside with a hand on your back, just a bit too low to be proper. Was it intentional or accidental? Did it matter? Why did you care?

His hand remained on your back as he guided you to the counter. It was a small, informal cafe with lively talking filling the air. Most of the small tables were filled with people, talking, reading newspapers but almost all with a cup in front of them. It had a neighborhood feel that transcended social and financial class lines but lacked the suffocating weight of eyes found in your local cafes. 

“What would you like?” Alastor leaned into you as he spoke, shoulder brushing against yours, breath washing over your cheek and down your neck. Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore the feelings that were trying to spark to life within you. “Are you hungry? The beignets here are wonderful.”

“Oh no, I’ll just get coffee.” There was a tremble to your voice that you couldn’t understand. You didn’t want it there. You wanted to sound cool, calm and confident. There was no reason for Alastor to get to you as much as he did and even less reason to let him find out that he was. 

Alastor stepped up to the counter, keeping his hand on your back. You could swear that you felt it run a little lower down the small of your back as his attention was focused forward. Or was that your imagination? 

“Alastor!” As Alastor reached for the bell, the door to the kitchen burst open in a flurry, a woman with a curly crop of graying hair and rich dark skin carrying a tray of confections. “It’s been a minute since you’ve been around these parts.”

“I drive through these parts every day, Delores.” His voice was different talking with the woman, you realized. The showy transatlantic accent was softer, just a smidge and his words were lighter.

“And now you bring a pretty little thing on your arm? Oh, and she is a darling, isn’t she?” The woman may have been around for a few years but she was as sharp as ever, Alastor was pleased to see. It had been a while since he had stopped in, though as a young man he had frequented this cafe. 

“Oh, thank you, ma’am but-” 

Alastor’s voice cut you off, “Two coffees, Dee?” He held up two fingers as if his order was confusing before pointing at the steaming pastries on the tray. “Those fresh?” 

You could have protested being spoken over but instead simply let his words wash over your ears. It was strange to hear him now, his voice warmer and richer. Whatever this place was to Alastor, it was a place he felt secure enough to just be in, even a little. 

“Of course they’re fresh, boy.” Delores laughed, swatting Alastor’s shoulder with a towel. “Ya want some too?” 

“Of course,” Alastor laughed and it was lighter, “Two?” 

“One for you and one for your lady.” Dolores made quick work of setting the tray down and putting pastries in baskets. 

Alastor pulled the coins you had given him from his pocket and set them on the counter as Dolores worked. His hand dropped from your back as he pulled the wallet from his pocket. From his wallet he added a few more pennies and you realized with a flash of annoyance that he was paying for you both and using the coins you had given him to even your debt to do so. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” you rushed to grab your own coin purse. He didn’t wait for you in the slightest as he pushed the coins across the counter, ignoring your attempts to cover your half. 

“That was supposed to pay you back.” You protested as Delores took the coins, eyebrow raised and a slight smile on her face. She told you both to go sit down and wait rather than do anything to allow you a moment to cover your share of the bill. “Now I owe you again.” 

Alastor guided you, soft pressure on your lower back constantly keeping you connected to him as he led you away from the counter. You wanted to argue, to continue to protest but what good would it do? All it would do is cause a scene.

“Oh, no.” Alastor pulled out a chair for you, finally letting his hand drop from your back. He grinned at you, eyes dancing with mirth as you sat in the chair. “Whatever will we do. I guess that just means you’ll have to see me again.” 

“Alastor?” You wanted to ask him what game it was that he was playing. You wanted to ask him if he knew how he was acting. Did he know the way it looked? Any of the people here could look at the two of you and see you as a couple. He made it so easy for anyone to assume you belonged to him. Did he care at all about that? Did he care how the idea tried to worm its way into your heart? 

“What’s on your mind, dear?” Alastor’s warm brown eyes looked into you from across the table. In another lifetime, maybe this could have been your life. In another lifetime, maybe what everyone saw looking at the two of you could be true. 

“You know, Al-” Delores came up to the table, drawing attention before you had a chance to make a fool of yourself in the moment. She carried two mugs, hanging off her fingers with practiced expertise, a pot of coffee and two plates with beignets covered in powdered sugar in her other hand. “You two make a handsome couple. She’s a bit bright, you know, and well dressed but she must not be too bad if you got her on your arm.”

“Oh,” a flush climbed up your neck and face as you realized the misunderstanding. 

“You know, your dear Ma would be proud to know you finally married.” Dolores was all but beaming with pride at Alastor as she filled the coffee mugs. 

Oh. It was worse than you thought. 

You blanched, looking to Alastor with panic in your eyes. This had to be explained, corrected, somehow but you were at a loss how. Anyone could overhear such a bold statement and it could get around town. If you told the truth, right here and now to this kind woman, wouldn’t that look too much like an affair? 

“We’re only friends, Dee.” Alastor said with ease, as if he wasn’t digging your grave. 

“That so?” The older woman looked pointedly at the ring on your hand. Her eyes on it made the band feel more and more like a shackle as you covered it with your other hand. “Well, we’re not ones to talk around here, missy. What you two get up to and your so called friendship is between you and the Good Lord Above.” She flicked her hand up, waving away some unseen force for emphasis. “We got bigger things to worry about ‘round this neighborhood so don’t you get to fretting.” 

“We’re not-” You tried to protest.

Delores cut you off with a warm smile of her own, “It don’t matter to me. I just want to see that boy not alone for once, even if it’s just for a while.”

“It’s fine,” Alastor said simply as Delores walked off. “She’ll think what she thinks but she’s not one to talk.”

“You know her well?” You refocused your attention on him, only to dart your eyes down. It was too much to meet his gaze. It was easier to take in the scuffed and scratched table top and the swirl of the cream you poured into your mug. 

“Grew up around here.” Alastor had his transatlantic accent once again perfectly in place as he watched you. You could feel the heat of his eyes on you, burning into you. “I know how these people are, no one will talk. Plus, we’re just getting coffee and Mrs. Dee does make the best beignets.” 

“She thinks we’re…” you were scared to even voice what the kindly woman thought. “And that doesn’t bother her? Or you?”

Alastor shrugged and pushed the small plate closer to you. “You should try it, it’s lovely with coffee.” He was silent for a moment, taking a long drink from his still very black mug of coffee before speaking again. “Dee would look the other way if it’s what I wanted. Maybe not approve but she’d look the other way.” 

You ripped off a piece of pastry and shoved it into your mouth. It was the only thing you could think to do to keep words you shouldn’t, couldn’t say from tumbling from your lips. Sweetness exploded on your tastebuds, washed away by bitter coffee as you forced down the question that almost rushed past your lips: did he want that?

It was silly. Pointless. Don’t be a silly woman. You were just getting swept up in a fantasy. He was a friend and that was enough. A friend was more than you could ever dare to have hoped for. There was nothing wrong with having a male friend, you were sure, beyond appearances so why did you feel your heart beating faster? Why did your face flush so easily?  

“Is she close to your mother?” You asked instead, stealing a glance at the woman behind the counter. You had so many questions about her and her connection to your new friend. “You were right, by the way, this is lovely indeed.” 

Alastor’s lips twitched up, mouth opening slightly before closing again as he hesitated. You could see the gears turning in his head as he weighed if he wanted to answer. There were things he held back from people, you could have guessed that. A man like him, walking the line of too dark to be a welcomed member of polite society would have things kept to himself. 

“They were close for as long as I can remember,” he finally said, “Right up until she passed. Dee’s been like an aunt to me, regardless of if I wanted it.” He chuckled though it sounded dry, forced.

“She’s passed?” Reaching out, you rested your hand over his. Though you didn’t know the pain of losing a parent, it was etched on his face. His smile fell for a moment, lips twitching down and his eyebrows furrowed and then the smile he seemed to always wear was back in place. “I’m so sorry.” 

He looked down and a single eyebrow rose as he looked at your much smaller hand atop his. Instantly you realized the move was too much. Reaching out to hold his hand was too forward. That was something limited to female friends, family or your husband. 

You pulled your hand away quickly, as if the touch burned you as you looked away from him. He caught your hand as your fingers dragged down his, preventing you from making any real distance. It was his turn to be forward, weaving his fingers between yours.

“I miss her dearly,” he admitted, “She never stopped pushing me to make something of myself, to not let my blood limit me.” 

“She’d be proud of you,” you had no doubt at all of your words. Alastor’s smile, soft but bright, told you how much such a thought meant to him. 

“For some things.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked as Alastor popped a chunk of sugary beignet into his mouth. You couldn’t help but watch as his mouth worked, sugar dusted on his lips. 

“Not everything I’ve done is things that would have made her proud.” Alastor finally said, washing the sugary treat down with a sip from his mug.

“I can’t imagine the great radio host doing anything that would make his mother feel anything less than pride.” 

Alastor only laughed, a knowing glint in his eye before changing the subject to you and your childhood. As you sat, talking in that dingy cafe one cup of coffee became two, though eventually he did allow you to take your fingers back. 

While he hadn’t been willing to offer much of his life  story, what he would share fascinated you. You couldn’t imagine being raised without both parents with the bayou stretching out behind your home. He had come so far and found himself an informal family to make up for the lack of family connections. 

All the while, he didn’t make you feel ashamed for your much more comfortable upbringing. He listened attentively as you spoke of lessons and expectations that all resulted in your arranged match with the much more well off Laurence.

“If you don’t love him, why did you marry him?” Alastor asked and you were struck by the thought. Never had you questioned if you loved Laurence or not, you just expected that you did because you should and if you didn’t, you would. 

“I- I do love him?” A snort of disapproval came from across the table. “Why wouldn’t I love him? He’s my husband.” 

“If you say so.” Alastor smiled at you like you were the only one not in on the joke. 

“I do say so,” You protested as Alastor stood from the table, offering his hand to assist you out of the chair. It wasn’t needed but you indulged in the chance to touch him again. 

“I’m not sure,” Alastor admitted as his hand took up its guiding presence on your lower back while you walked to the door. “But I’m told love is something magical that can solve the world’s ills and if you have it, even for a moment, you’d risk anything for it. I don’t recall anyone singing the praises of the beatings one delivers on those they love though.”

“Maybe we’ve been told different things” you said, a hollow laugh escaping your lips, the sound shattering like glass in your own ears. “Your idea of love sounds like a child’s story I’ll never get to experience because it’s not real.” 

“Who says you won’t?” Alastor smiled down at you before looking up, focusing on bringing you safely to his car. As promised, he needed to deliver you home before it was too late and he would, though he was far from eager to be rid of your company. 

Oh well, he thought as he settled you into the passenger seat. There would be other times. He would ensure that he got to spend more time with you later. It would just be a matter of time. 

AN2: A note on word choice- I've spent way too much time on 1920's slang and phrases. Calling someone 'bright' in relation to another person was often how one would subtibly remark on differences of skin tone. While this is a Reader insert, by nature of social and class standing, it is needed that reader have some traits to be historically accurate. This is what Dee is remarking on, not Reader's brains.

Next

[honeypiehotchner]

gold star (Hotch x Teacher!Reader) -- one shot

Been working on this one for a hot minute oops. Just wanted to say thank y’all for being patient with me always (and we literally hit 5.7k followers even while I’ve been so inactive???? what????). Here’s a longgg dose of fluffy angst <33

Edit: I’m a dumbass and queued this for the wrong day

Summary: You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not. (Kinda enemies to lovers?)

Warnings: angst! talks of parent death, therapy, bad parenting/emotional neglect, y’know the works. Lots of fluff tho to make up for it. And a happy ending!

WC: ...5.7k-ish

I love my job. I love my job. If you say it enough, you’ll believe it. I love my job. You glance at the clock and see your next parent is late. I love my job.

You do love your job, you really do. What you hate are parent-teacher conferences that you’re required to do. Especially when the parent is late. After having to reschedule at the last minute. Twice.

If you didn’t have a genuine concern to discuss with Jack’s father, then you wouldn’t be here still. But alas, you care for Jack more than your annoyance at his father.

Jack Hotchner is a sweet kid. Genuinely wonderful. After his mom’s sudden death a few years ago, everyone worried about him. You’re friends with Julia, who was his kindergarten teacher just a few months after it occurred. Despite being a teacher for almost a decade that year, Julia had never encountered this situation, so she looked to you for help. You lost your mom when you were in first grade, so you were able to give her more helpful tips that actually work.

Now, you have the pleasure of having Jack in your second grade classroom and he truly is an amazing student. You only wish you could share this information with his father who seems to be on another plane of existence every goddamn--

A knock on your classroom door frame makes you jump.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron Hotchner rushes out, quickly dropping his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, standing up from your desk chair, putting on a smile. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, and please, it’s Aaron,” he smiles sheepishly, walking over. He towers over the tiny desks as he maneuvers past them to yours. He sticks out his hand for you to shake. He has a firm grip, but his hands are soft. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I got caught up at work--”

“I figured,” you reply, sitting back down. You pull up your laptop and begin typing in your password. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to make this quick. I should’ve left an hour ago.”

“Oh, sorry, am I that late?” he flicks his arm to look at his watch. He sighs. “I apologize.”

You hum. “Our conference was scheduled for 4:15.” You glance down at the clock on your screen. “It’s almost six.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “Would it be better to reschedule?”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “You’re already here.” And if you reschedule, then this might happen again, so you’d rather do this now while you’ve got him here. “Fortunately, Jack is doing really well. He’s struggling a little with math, but he’s not the only one, and we’re working on it. He’s made a few friends, I know we discussed that last time. He’s breaking out of his shell, I think.”

“That’s good,” Aaron says, smiling a little. “That’s really good to hear.”

“Is he doing any extracurriculars?” you ask. Last time, when you voiced your concerns to Aaron about his son being a little too quiet and shy, you suggested asking if he’d like to do a sport, or play an instrument.

“He’s doing soccer,” Aaron says.

Your eyes widen. “Oh!”

“You look surprised,” he presses.

“I guess I didn’t expect Jack to…want to do a sport,” you shrug, checking your notes for the conference to stall.

What you really wanted to say is that you didn’t expect Aaron to listen to you. Given his track record, it seemed highly unlikely that he’d follow through and actually ask his son about trying a sport, let alone go through with signing him up for one.

“Do you have any questions for me?” you ask, closing your laptop lid. Aaron has been studying your face in this lull of silence, and it’s unnerving.

“I don’t think so,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you nod, not surprised. “I did have one more thing. I know I said Jack is breaking out of his shell, and he is, but he seems…down. Is something going on at home?”

Aaron sighs. “It’s getting closer to the anniversary of his mom’s death.”

That tugs on your heart. “Oh, I see. Alright.” You pause. “Uh-- If you don’t mind me asking, is he seeing a counselor or a therapist or anything?”

“He’s not, not currently,” Aaron says.

You blink. You shouldn’t really be surprised, but you are. “Has he at all since his mom’s death?”

“Briefly, right after she died.”

“Okay.” You clear your throat. You cannot yell at a parent. That’s unprofessional. “I know it’s not my place, but I’d highly suggest finding him someone. Especially right now as the anniversary is getting closer, and as Jack gets older. I would suggest our school counselor, but I think Jack would do better with someone better equipped for his situation.”

Aaron stares at you, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

You lean over and open a drawer, grabbing the handout specifically for times like these. Given the area the school is in, parents are typically able to pay for services like these, and are more willing. You know it’s because they don’t have the time to deal with their children’s emotions, so they pawn them off on someone else, and claim it as a good deed.

In a way, you’re grateful the children are able to receive help that you didn’t because your dad couldn’t afford it. You just wish the kids also received support from their family, not just from doctors.

“Here’s a list of great pediatric psychiatrists and therapists in the area.” You hand Aaron the packet and he takes it gently, his expression unreadable. Parents are always so weirdly defensive about this. “Many of our students see someone from that list, so I trust that one will be a good fit for Jack. If you want some help narrowing it down, I can help.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’ll look into this.”

I hope so, you want to say, but he doesn’t sound too sincere. “Okay,” you smile softly instead. “That’s all I have, unless you have any other questions?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think-- I think this is good.”

“Alright, well,” you pause, opening Jack’s folder. “I just need you to sign here, so the school knows we met.” You slide the form and a pen across the table.

Aaron signs swiftly, a signature born from frequent piles of paperwork. You know he does something in the government, you’re just not sure what. Nearly every parent here works in the government, though, so that’s not a remarkable conclusion to have made.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the signed form and sliding it back into Jack’s folder. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too,” Aaron says, standing up to shake your hand again. He’s so formal, you almost forget. He clutches the packet in his free hand, and you wonder if it’ll end up in the recycling bin at the end of the hall.

After shaking your hand, Aaron apologizes again for his tardiness, and then leaves your classroom. The clock on the wall says it’s just past six. A record for one of the latest nights you’ve been here.

Gathering your things, you do some last minute checks around the classroom before heading out, locking the door behind you.

As you reach the exit doors at the end of the hall, you peer into the trash and recycling bins. Both are empty, no signs of your pediatric psychiatrists packet.

At least that’s a win.

+++

A month or so later, you’re waking up early to go to a soccer game. If it weren’t for your kids asking you (loudly and enthusiastically) to come to their game, then you wouldn’t be awake right now on a Saturday.

Julia, at least, is coming with you, and so is Kate, a fellow second grade teacher whose classroom is across from yours. Julia is coming to see Jack, and Kate also has a few students who asked her to come.

The three of you stop for coffee before going to the park where the soccer games are held. Walking across the field, you find an empty space on the bleachers and sit down, looking around for your kiddos.

To your complete and utter surprise, you spot Aaron Hotchner -- of all parents.

You quickly avert your eyes, looking around some more. You haven’t seen or spoken to Aaron since the parent-teacher conference as Jack is usually picked up and dropped off by his Aunt Jessica. Jack has seemed a little more present and happy, but you have no idea if that means that Aaron actually sought help for his son.

Even more embarrassing, you’ve worried about your job since that conference. It’s always a gamble, offering parents advice. You never know what will cross a line and equal an angry phone call to the principal followed by a swift withdrawal of their child from your class. Not every parent has always been so keen on your attention to your students’ emotional wellbeing.

“Don’t look, but one of the dads cannot keep his eyes off of you,” Julia whispers.

“Which one?” Kate asks, then she spots him. “Oh, him-- He’s tall. Wait, is he…?”

You glance over and sure enough, the one in question is Aaron. He can’t tell that you’ve looked at him, though, thanks to your sunglasses. “That’s Jack’s dad,” you say, looking away again.

“I knew he looked familiar,” Julia murmurs. “I’m not used to him out of the suit. His hair is longer too, isn’t it?”

“Why would I know?” you counter, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Is he the one you mouthed off to?” Kate asks, nudging your arm.

You scoff defensively, “I didn’t mouth off--”

“She told him to put his son in therapy,” Julia explains with a prideful smirk. “Rightfully so, too. I would’ve done the same if I ever saw him.”

“Damn,” Kate chuckles. “Let’s hope that he took your advice.”

“And that he isn’t pissed at me for it,” you mutter. “I haven’t heard anything since.”

Kate and Julia share a look before Julia says, “He’s definitely not mad.”

Finally, you give yourself the chance to look over at him, and to let him see you looking.

You’ll admit, it is weird seeing him out of the suit, let alone in short sleeves. You’ve never seen his arms. They’re…nice. Muscular, more than you expected. Not that you’ve wondered about his arms, though. Or any part of him. Because he’s Jack’s dad, so you should not be thinking about him this way.

Still, you indulge, just for this moment. He keeps your eyes only for a minute before his attention is drawn elsewhere to the screaming kids practicing their warmups (if that’s what those can be called). He’s smiling from ear to ear, something you’ve never seen. The tiny smiles you managed out of him during conferences hardly ever looked genuine. This, though, this one is.

“You should talk to him,” Julia whispers, nearly scaring you shitless. You completely forgot where you were for a minute.

“No,” you shake your head, tearing your eyes away. “That’s practically asking for him to yell at me.”

“He won’t do that,” Julia chides.

“Well, I don’t know,” Kate grimaces. “Parents are finicky. I got yelled at last year by one who I thought was the sweetest ever. Until her kid didn’t pass a science test.”

“See?” you say, gesturing to Kate. “We have no idea what he’ll be like.”

“Besides that he’s looking at you again,” Julia says. “So he’s clearly interested in talking to you.”

“Then he can walk over here himself.”

Julia raises her eyebrows, shrugging. “Be careful what you wish for.”

You roll your eyes. Aaron is too busy with the kids and their game is about to start, so there’s no way he’ll walk over. Even if you speak after, Jack will be with him, so nothing will be said. It’s fine.

+++

Aaron’s mouth is dry. He feels like he forgot how to breathe properly.

He didn’t know you’d be here, and here you are. Beautiful. Except he shouldn’t think that, because you’re his son’s teacher. It’s inappropriate. But the way the sun hits your skin…beautiful. You’re beautiful.

He needs to focus. He’s supposed to be coaching the kids, not gawking at a teacher like some idiot.

To make matters worse, Rossi notices, and only silently raises his eyebrows.

Aaron told Rossi about your parent-teacher conference, and how he should’ve put Jack in therapy sooner -- along with himself. Rossi asked him if he thanked you for your advice, but Aaron never found the right time. He half-heartedly thanked you at the conference, but it wasn’t as genuine as it should’ve been.

He meant to call you, or send an email, but he never did. Truthfully, he’s been terrified. He feels incredibly stupid to have not gotten Jack help sooner, and even more stupid that he finds you as attractive as he does. Can he be any worse of a person, seriously?

And now, you’re here. At Jack’s soccer game. Which, he guesses he should’ve realized sooner that a lot of Jack’s classmates are on this team, too. And others from different classes, but still in his grade. It was only a matter of time before one of the kids asked a teacher to come. It would only take one, and clearly it did, and he’s unprepared.

Wildly unprepared. And wishing he put on a better shirt.

+++

The soccer game is a disaster, but a wonderful one.

The kids are too young for points to be counted, so it’s just a game of fun chaos. Teams are blurred and never really followed. But they looked like they had a blast out there, so that’s all that mattered.

You, Julia, and Kate split up to see your kids and give out as many high-fives as you possibly can. You listen to their rambles and congratulate them on playing so well. The parents stand by with smiles, occasionally one piping up to thank you for coming.

Aaron is there, too, surprisingly. He’s still smiling bigger than ever.

There’s a man with him, too, who Jack calls Uncle Dave. Jack has mentioned him in class before, and he’s actually Aaron’s coworker. He’s smiling, too, just not as wide, and he keeps glancing between you and Aaron.

Just when you think you’re in the clear, Aaron tells Jack to go with Uncle Dave because he needs to talk to you about something.

You catch Julia and Kate’s eyes when Aaron is left alone with you, and your stomach turns. He doesn’t look angry, but then again, the parents never look angry at first.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Aaron begins, turning so the sun isn’t in his eyes as much. He’s still squinting, and it’s adorable. You wonder why he didn’t wear sunglasses. “I picked a therapist from the list you gave me for Jack, and it’s really been helping him. A lot, so, I just wanted to thank you for giving that to me.”

You blink, stunned. “You’re welcome,” you say slowly before you gain your composure. “I’m very glad that it’s been helping. And to see him playing soccer,” you gesture to the field with a smile. “He seems to really enjoy it.”

“Oh, he does,” Aaron chuckles. “He can’t get enough of it. He talks about it all the time.”

All the time. So maybe he’s spending more time with Jack, then. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that.”

You pause, waiting for him to say something else. The awkward silence lingers for a little too long, and you know what’s coming next.

“I was wondering,” he starts, and lowers his voice a little. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime.”

As much as you’d love to say yes, you can’t let yourself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, that would just be inappropriate.”

“No, no, not as a date,” he backtracks, confusing you. “Just to thank you for-- For helping me get Jack in to see a therapist.”

You raise an eyebrow. “To thank me…for telling you what you should’ve done in the first place?”

He sputters for a moment, clearly losing his bearings. “No, I mean--”

“Listen, Mr. Hotchner,” you smile sweetly, trying to contain yourself. “What would you like? A gold star? For getting your son a therapist after he went through an incredibly traumatic event?”

He doesn’t say anything, and somehow that makes your anger and annoyance worse.

“Listen. The fact of the matter is that you should’ve kept your son in therapy since he lost his mother. And continue to keep him in therapy until he’s old enough to decide if he wants to continue seeing one or not. Because when my mom died, I didn’t get to have a therapist. We couldn’t afford it, and my dad was too out of his mind to even care. It nearly killed me, and my siblings. So don’t tell me that you want to thank me for something that I never should’ve had to do in the first place. You should’ve paid more attention to your son’s needs. Especially since you can afford services to genuinely help him.”

Your voice stayed quiet, thankfully, because you didn’t need everyone to hear you mouthing off to Aaron once again. You realize only halfway through that maybe you shouldn’t be saying these things in a setting such as this, but you’re too into it to stop.

Julia and Kate heard all of it, though. You can see their jaws open, eyes wide. Did you go too far? You don’t know and part of you doesn’t care. It’s the truth, and it hits far too close to home for you to say nothing at all.

Still, to cover your bases, you add one last thing. “I apologize if that was harsh, but it needed to be said. I want what’s best for my kids. And sometimes, that means getting their parents to see that they need to do better.”

You pause, and he nods, and says another quiet “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. And to keep things from stinging any more, you walk away.

Julia and Kate catch up with you on the way back to your car, both too stunned to say a word until you’re inside.

“Damn,” Julia whispers. “Damn.”

“Holy shit,” Kate says with a small laugh. “Tell ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you exhale loudly. “Let’s just hope I still have a job by Monday.”

+++

You do still have a job come Monday, with surprisingly no meeting with the principal, either. Or a phone call.

You’re suspicious, but trying not to be. Maybe it’s all fine.

You convince yourself that it’s completely fine until it really is. Until you start seeing Aaron occasionally, picking Jack up from school. You aren’t sure how often he’s been doing it, because the only reason you saw him is that you were forced into car rider duty. You’ve always been on the bus lane, but they needed another teacher out front, and that’s where you saw him first.

It caught you off guard the first time, honestly. It had been three weeks since the soccer game, since you told him off in front of everyone. And what did he do this time when he saw you?

He waved. He smiled. And then he scooped Jack up into his arms.

She won’t own up to it, but you’re positive Julia saw the interaction because you haven’t worked the bus lane since. Because Julia suddenly volunteered for it, taking your place.

Now, it’s a bit of a routine. Aaron picks Jack up almost every day, although sometimes there are a few stretches of three to four days where he isn’t present. Those days, you see Jessica, and she smiles at you as well, but it’s different. You got so used to seeing Aaron those days, that when you see Jessica, it feels strange. It begins to feel the way it used to feel when you saw Aaron picking Jack up.

It makes you smile. You’re glad to see Aaron taking the time to see Jack, to put in the time — finally — knowing he has the means to be able to do this.

+++

For the rest of the school year, this is how you see Aaron Hotchner.

Neither of you say a word to each other, except for the final parent-teacher conference — which he arrives early for. The conference is entirely professional, and he doesn’t mention the past. Neither do you.

The final week of school fast approaches, and you’re looking for decorations to put up in the classroom. You try to make the last week special because you know they’re just as ready for summer break as you are.

Part of your “decorations” consists of candy that you’ll put on their desk every morning, which means you’re in the grocery store, in desperate need of candy to entertain your kids. Five different kinds. Something extra special on the last day, though. They’ll get out two hours earlier, but they don’t know that yet (the parents do).

Right as you turn down the candy aisle, you stop dead in your tracks, your cart nearly smacking into someone else’s. When you look up, you realize who it is.

“Mr. Hotchner!” you blurt.

He smiles that soft smile. “Please, call me Aaron.”

You’re not used to calling parents by their first name. You know he’s tried to get you to call him Aaron a few times, but you can’t ever bring yourself to. Instead, you change subjects, peering into his cart.

“Grocery shopping? For…” You raise an eyebrow. “I don’t even have a good joke. Why do you have so many marshmallows?” He has like…six big bags. Of varying sizes, too.

“Long story,” he says, sheepish. “Jack wants to build something out of marshmallows.”

“Does he want to build a whole country?” you chuckle.

“Sort of, yeah,” Aaron laughs. “He said he wants to build a whole city, then eat it. His words.”

“Wonderful,” you grin. “Sounds like a blast.” And a good idea. You might steal that for next year.

“What are you here for?” Aaron asks, nodding toward your empty cart.

“Candy, for the kids,” you reply. “I want to give them a different kind every day for the last week, just to make it more fun.”

Aaron smiles wider this time. “They’ll love that.”

“Thanks,” you say, mirroring his smile.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Or him, quite frankly. Building marshmallow sculptures with Jack? Unheard of. But you leave it alone, just glad he’s spending more time with his son.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to shopping,” Aaron says, gesturing down the aisle. “See you on Monday.”

Baffled, you blink, then nod. “Yeah. See you Monday.”

You see Aaron every day of next week to pick Jack up, and you get to see Jack’s smile grow every day.

On Friday, you head back inside to your classroom, ready to pack things up. Thankfully, you’re returning to this room next year, so you don’t need to pack everything up.

As a tradition, you, Julia, and Kate go out to celebrate the end of the year, so you have to go home and get ready for the night ahead.

+++

Aaron doesn’t know why he let Rossi convince him to come out tonight. Jack’s at a sleepover at a friend’s house, so Aaron has nothing to do — theoretically. Until Rossi decided to drag him out.

Now, he’s sitting in a booth at a bar with a jazz band playing, and he’s wondering how many people Rossi can possibly know. Four people have already stopped to say hi, and they’ve barely been here for half an hour.

As Rossi talks with another friend, Aaron lets his eyes wander around the place, spotting the door when it opens. And you walk in.

He quickly averts his eyes, shifting in his seat. It’s enough to catch Rossi’s attention, and he gives Aaron a strange look, until he sees you at the bar with your two friends from Jack’s soccer game.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on his whiskey, nodding absently when Rossi says he’s heading to the restroom.

What Rossi is actually doing is heading to the bar to intercept you and your friends, putting all three of your drinks on his tab.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, never one to argue with a free drink.

“You look familiar,” Julia blurts out.

“Dave,” Rossi introduces himself. “I’m a friend of Aaron Hotchner’s. I went with him to a few of Jack’s soccer games last season.”

“That’s where I’ve seen you,” you say.

Dave smiles. His back is turned to Aaron, so he can’t see Aaron glaring at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing up there talking to you.

“Aaron’s here with me, actually,” Dave says casually. “He’s at the booth just behind us if you’d like to see him.”

Kate nudges your arm harshly. “She would.”

“Actually, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Go,” Julia urges. “Why not?”

You give them both a look. “Fine,” you cave. “I’ll be right back.”

Kicking yourself for caving so easily (because you really would like to see him), you walk over to the booth where Aaron sits. Thankfully, his back is toward you, so he doesn’t see you coming.

He beams a smile when he sees you though, standing up to greet you. “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

“Kate and Julia drug me out,” you confess, idling for a moment as you both try to decide if you should shake hands, hug, or just stand here. “You?”

“Dave,” Aaron nods, chuckling. Just standing here it is. “Did he send you?”

“They all did,” you nod toward the bar, where they’re all watching like hawks, no doubt. “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” he gestures to the empty space. “How are you?”

“Good, we’re out celebrating the end of the year,” you reply, walking around the table and sitting down on the plush booth cushion. This place is fancier than you would’ve chosen, but Julia heard good things about it from a friend, so you ended up here anyway. “How are you doing?”

“Good, although Dave drug me out for drinks because apparently,” he lifts his drink, “I don’t get out enough.”

“Y’know, that’s funny, my friends tell me the exact same thing,” you laugh. “Dave bought our drinks.”

“I knew he was doing something suspicious,” Aaron jokes, glancing back toward the bar. Dave and your friends have taken over three stools, clearly set on giving you and Aaron some time alone. “Sorry again if he forced you over here.”

“No, he definitely didn’t. My friends did,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I have to ask, how did Jack’s marshmallow city building go?”

Immediately, Aaron digs his phone out of his pocket. “I have a lot of pictures, I’ll just show you.” He unlocks his phone and goes to his camera roll, already smiling at the thought of them. “He had a blast. We went through so many toothpicks. We both had stomachaches by the end of it from eating so many marshmallows.”

He turns his phone to show you the pictures, and without thinking, you scoot closer to him. To get a better look at the pictures, you tell yourself, but you know that isn’t the full truth.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “This so huge!”

“It covered our entire kitchen!” Aaron laughs with you, a sweet sound you wish you heard more often. “I didn’t tell Jessica about it, so she had a heart attack when she came over the next day.”

“I bet,” you nod seriously, swiping on his phone as he holds it toward you. “Goodness.” You look up at Aaron. “Did you guys eat all of them?”

“We’ve had a lot of hot chocolate.”

“It’s May.”

“I know,” he deadpans, feigning annoyance, but then he breaks into a smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve been snacking on them maybe a little more than I should every time I go into the kitchen.”

“I would do the same,” you chuckle. “No judgment here.”

He smiles at you and tucks his phone away back in his pocket, and neither of you move from how close you’ve gotten.

“How are you planning to spend your summer break?” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey. You try not to stare at him too much.

“Lots of getting ready for next year,” you reply, rotating your glass in your hand, focusing on it instead. “Mostly reading for fun, I don’t get to do that a lot during the school year when I’m reading for my kids and grading and such. I plan to do a lot of nothing, basically,” you laugh. “What about you?”

“The same, hopefully,” he says, which surprises you. And he can tell, because he elaborates. “I took a lot of time off from work. I work from home now, essentially. If I absolutely need to go in, then I do, but so far, Dave’s been able to handle it.”

You knew a big change had been made, especially since he’s been picking Jack up from school everyday. But hearing the confirmation makes your heart warm. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Me too,” he says. “I know we’ve been over this, but I wanted to thank you for what you said, at Jack’s game—”

Mortified, you interrupt him. “Oh god, I hoped you had forgotten about that.”

“I didn’t forget—”

“I was rude.”

“What you said needed to be said and I’m glad you did,” he protests sincerely. “You shouldn’t have had to say anything, but you did, and I appreciate that.”

His sincerity stuns you. You blink, no words able to come out.

“We can move on from it now,” he says, noticing your hesitation. “I just wanted to be clear that I’m not angry with you for what you said, I’ve actually been the complete opposite.”

“Well,” you chuckle, trying to make light of this. “You didn’t call the school demanding I be suspended, so I knew you couldn’t be that upset with me.”

He stares at you, eyes widening. “Do parents do that?”

“Some, yeah,” you nod. “They don’t exactly like being told by a single teacher with no kids of her own that their parenting skills are shit.”

He laughs, taking a sip of his whiskey. You watch him raise the glass to his lips, but look away before he can catch you. You smile down at your own drink. This is embarrassing.

You thought this little crush -- or whatever it is -- had gone away since you hadn’t spoken to him since the soccer game. Sure, you started to look specifically for him in the pickup area, but that was for Jack. That wasn’t for you. Or, at least, that’s the story you spun for yourself.

“What’s on your list to read this summer?” Aaron asks, bringing your eyes back to his. He’s smiling. “I’ve been meaning to read more -- outside of the books Jack and I read.”

You remember Jack telling you about The Magic Treehouse series that Uncle Dave got him for Christmas, and how his dad was reading them with him.

“What, The Magic Treehouse isn’t enough for you?” you tease Aaron, and he laughs, that sweet sound you can’t get enough of.

You tell him about the books on your shelf at home, the ones you got years ago and have yet to read, and the others that you got this year because you couldn’t resist. He listens to each one, never once taking his eyes off of you.

“I am not going to remember all of these names,” he chuckles.

“I can text them to you,” you offer, a grin creeping up your cheeks.

He mirrors your expression. “You stole my line.”

“Oh, that was your line?” you ask, laughing as you pull out your phone. “Fine, fine, you can have it back.”

“No, you said it first,” he says, still grinning. He hands you his phone as you give him yours. “I’m bad at this anyway.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, typing in your contact information before handing his phone back. “I’ve had a pretty good time.”

He waits a moment, just basking in your smile, the feel of your fingertips brushing against his when he returns your phone. “Me too.”

The night doesn’t end there, as the two of you continue talking. Another round of drinks is sent to your table by Dave and your friends who wave enthusiastically when you and Aaron look over at them.

“Free drinks, at least,” you shrug. “How much money does Dave have?”

“Don’t ask,” Aaron shakes his head. “He’ll never tell.”

As you both finish your first drink and head into the second, you scoot even closer. You bring your legs underneath you on the booth, getting comfortable as you and Aaron start to talk about your favorite movies. He tries to be sneaky and put his arm around you, but you notice and can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“I told you I’m bad at this.”

“No, it’s sweet!” you protest, leaning into his chest. “It’s very nice, I don’t mind.”

He moves his arm from the back of the booth to your shoulders then, his hand resting on your arm. “This okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you smile softly, turning your head to look up at him. “What movie were we on?”

He stares so intently, searching your face. You watch as his eyes gaze over every inch, dropping to your lips, then back to your pupils. “I have no idea.”

“Me either,” you murmur, silently hoping for a kiss. Silently hoping that he’s hoping, too.

And he is. “I know our friends are watching us,” he whispers. “But can I kiss you right now?”

“Yeah,” you grin. “I was about to ask.”

“Well now we’re even,” he says, leaning closer as he smiles. You tilt your head, meeting his lips halfway, not wanting to wait any longer. You’ve quieted these feelings for far too long.

He kisses you long and sweet, his free hand coming to cup your face as yours search for stability in his shoulders. He knocks the breath out of your lungs, literally, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aaron pulls back for just a moment, just far enough to say, “Was that worth a gold star?”

You laugh, playfully swatting his chest. “Yeah, Aaron,” you say, looking up at him. “It was.”

[sebsbarnes]

love and grief || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner.

warnings: death, violence, injuries, language

word count: 2.4k+

a/n: i needed to create spade, reader's sidekick, to make this work...he has no dialogue but their relationship is equivalent to tangerine and lemon. NOT RLLY EDITED

tangerine masterlist

his large hands wrapped themselves around your neck slamming you onto the counter. immediately you started losing air, desperately scratching at his fingers attempting to pry them open. small black dots began to cloud your vision as you squirmed underneath him, legs flailing.

"i can't lie love, you look pretty hot with my hands around your neck. too bad we aren't in a bed," he smirked through gritted teeth, the vein pulsating in his neck.

"well...a floor...might work...just...as good," you managed to squeak out, hands still pressed deeply on your neck. attempting to pry his fingers off did no good and with little time left before you passed out you grabbed his elbows, harshly pushing them up causing them to hyperextend. tangerine's grip immediately released as he shouted in agony. you quickly sat up on the counter, reaching over to him and grabbing his neck, slamming him to the ground. tangerine was now in your position just moments ago as you straddled the man while squeezing his neck.

"don't worry babe, i'll try not to give you rug burn," you winked pushing further onto his neck.

"mm charming," he grunted, face turning a deep shade of red.

he tried removing your hands by pulling at your forearms but you weren't budging. you had your hands locked and your feet locked under his thighs. had this been any other circumstance...like on his bedroom floor...you may have enjoyed this view of him but alas this was a circumstance far from that. tangerine was so close to passing out and just in an instance the whole dynamic changed. it was too late to register the sound of the door opening behind you. not a moment later you shrieked in pain pulling back from tangerine's neck to hold your upper arm that was now searing in pain. you looked at your trembling hand that was now coated in blood. taking this opportunity tangerine threw, literally threw, your body to the side smashing into the cabinets. you choked and your brain was frantically worrying about the loss of air and the torn up skin on your arm to even realize tangerine was now brutally fighting ladybug.

the saying goes the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but with ladybug that didn't apply. you loathed him. and although you hated tangerine you hated ladybug more and given the opportunity to fight him with someone as strong as tangerine...fuck yeah you'd take that chance.

ladybug had just slammed tangerine's head causing disorientation and while ladybug's back was to you you stalked over, gripping his scalp and dragging his body to the ground. you assumed the position from earlier, now choking out ladybug.

"y'know it's quite hot seein' ya dominate anotha' man," jested tangerine. surprised by his remark you stared at him with wide eyes but this left you vulnerable and ladybug now took advantage of your distracted state and lifted his leg kneeing you in the spine. your jaw was then met with his fist which made your teeth rattle. you were fuming.

the two of you stood up and you grabbed the center of ladybug's t-shirt and shoved him backwards into tangerine who held his arms back. some assassins had their go-to methods of fighting or torture. you? well you always had a pair of pliers handy. an odd thing perhaps but they were so....versatile. they always illicit some sort of fear and that's exactly what it was doing as you had one hand bringing the pliers to ladybug's teeth and the other gripping his jaw open. he was pleading and begging as you got closer.

"well shit love i didn't know how hardcore you were," tangerine said pulling his face as far as possible from the tool.

"keep coming onto me and i'll rip that tongue out of your pretty mouth," you hissed.

tangerine couldn't help the smirk that appeared on his face, "but then how would i be able to taste you darlin'?"

before you could pluck ladybug's teeth out and before you could rip tangerine's tongue out there was a loud commotion from a few cars up. tangerine and you both dropped ladybug (disappointedly since you were looking forward to beating the shithead) and bounded for the source. in your soul you knew something was wrong. immediately your breath quickened and legs fastened. tangerine silently observed you as he walked in tangent. he sensed the anxiety radiating off your body and he could only assume you thought something was wrong with spade. he couldn’t fathom anything besides an injury to spade, the two of you were way too skilled at your job to sustain serious injuries let alone something worse. but he was proven wrong.

the door slid open and tangerine watched as your body skidded. he grabbed underneath your armpits to steady you. it was blood, everywhere. you were rigid. it was your worse nightmare. it was spade dead.

he was propped against the wall in between the seats of the train, a giant gash across his neck. you kneeled beside his body grabbing at the collar of his shirt, "what the fuck spade," you whimpered, "what the fuck happened."

your hands and lips were trembling but you couldn't react more. no, not with tangerine around and not with the other killers on the train. you couldn't show any weakness. to you there was no such thing...at least that's what you kept trying to convince yourself.

"y/n...," tangerine spoke softly he wasn't really sure what to say. what do you even say to someone in a situation like this? the relationship you had with spade is like the relationship he had with lemon. the thought of being in your position made him nauseous, but even knowing you are in this position made him nauseous. the whole field of assassins... or whatever you want to call it...knew the two of you were enemies, pure hatred. but you both knew that the little quips and occasional touches were far from hatred.

"we should keep moving," you sounded robotic.

immediately you stood hiding your face and started walking away, tangerine trailing behind. he hesitantly brought a hand up to you shoulder to comfort you but his fingers merely ghosted your skin as he stopped himself. you kneeled next to spade not even a minute. there was no time to think, no time to mourn, no time to say goodbye. you were trying so hard to act normal but you were far from it. teeth were grinding together, nails digging into your palms, flared nostrils, eyes burning holes into anything you glanced at. he was gone just like that. you kept trying to swallow back the tears. 'not now' is all you could think. but the world felt like it was collapsing. it felt as though the you and the sky were colliding. the stars coming to engulf you in their flames and bury you deep within the earth's surface. rocks and sand crushed your body further and further into the center of the earth until it was complete darkness and the only sign of life was the sound of your heart slowly beating.

unbeknownst to you, while in your grief stricken daydream, tangerine was no longer following behind you. paying his absence no mind you continued to follow the small droplets of blood on the floor. you had convinced yourself it was someone else's blood and not spade's.

the door whizzed open and there stood a man, not just any man, the white death. he was holding a long blade which you desperately tried to ignore the blood on it. his smug demeanor made you want to carve his lips off his face. but you stayed still, waiting for him to say something.

"i figured the briefcase was gone," he boomed fiddling with the blade.

"yeah well fuck the briefcase i couldn't even begin to tell ya where the fuck it was last."

"it's a shame i ran into your brother first. he was just...collateral damage. i wished to find you first but," he tsked, "that didn't happen now did it? seems like you can only blame yourself for his death. it's almost as if you were the one holding the blade, right? if you managed to keep the briefcase safe and secure and arrive in kyoto he would be here with us now, hm?" it was the first time in your life you felt defeated. you had no energy to muster up to fight nor did you want to but that didn't matter as he charged towards you, blade swinging out.

you ducked underneath the blade, grabbing his arm and slinging him against the seats. the knife you had on you was much smaller and it took getting a lot closer to try and attack. when the white death stumbled onto the seat he was leaned over and you took the knife dragging it diagonally across the length of his back. in response he swung his arm at you, the butt of the long knife hit you in the mouth that was now pouring blood. the two of you continued fighting back and forth nonstop for awhile, both blades dancing around each other occasionally marking each other with a new wound. for an old man he sure had a lot of stamina and it was starting to become hard to ignore the bullet wound ladybug had caused to your arm. the white dead punched you in the ear which made a loud ringing noise that was painful to bear, he then took his boot and kicked you in the center of your stomach and you flew to the floor. weakly you managed to crawl to your knees.

"just do it already, just kill me," you laughed in defeat throwing your weapons to the side. you looked crazed, the blood from your mouth covered your teeth and left a stain running down your chin. you had a long gash to your jaw that trailed up towards your temple. you looked far from okay.

"what are you waiting for?' you taunted him, "there's nothing else left for me here so do it you dick. i'm begging. i'm the one that should be dead."

before the white death had the opportunity, the glass from the door behind you shattered and he inhaled sharply before the knife fell to the floor and he grabbed his neck that was now bleeding profusely. you were like a deer in headlights, frozen in place watching as the man before you collapsed to the ground no longer posing a threat. you fell forward onto your hands heaving out a cry.

"please just kill me," you whispered over and over again waiting for the person behind you to end it all. instead you felt your body being rotated around and you came face to face with tangerine. his blue eyes frantically scanning over your face.

on the way towards the commotion lemon called tangerine letting him know he had found ladybug and a young girl and 'dealt with the matter' which is what caused tangerine to sidetrack himself away from you. when he managed to catch up is when he saw the white death towering over your hunched body and before he could attempt to harm you even more tangerine took out his gun and aimed it at the man.

tangerine had heard your pleads to the white death. he saw your shaking frame, the wickedness yet defeat in your tone. you were giving up and in the years of knowing you, tangerine had never witnessed such a sight. he had never seen you raise the white flag in a fight nor even entertain the idea that someone could ever defeat and kill you. this wasn't the fighter he knew, but he knew that seeing your brother dead was the cause of this and he didn't blame you. his chest felt constricted as he rushed to your side in any attempt to mend you.

"hey. hey... hey! focus on me," tangerine said gripping your face slightly shaking your head, "i'm here. you aren't dying today."

"he's gone," you broke, looking into tangerine's eyes which were laced with emotion, "like... really gone."

"i know, love. i'm so fuckin' sorry, i am," tangerine whispered mournfully, cradling your severely injured body.

"please," your voice barely a whisper pleaded as you grabbed the knife you had thrown to the side and gestured it towards tangerine.

tangerine swallowed so hard it hurt, "absolutely not," he said gripping the knife and tossing it back to the side. you let your eyes close, lips trembling as tangerine picked up your frame.

"we're getting off this train, okay?" tangerine declared into your hair.

with the white death gone, his men no longer breathing, the briefcase long gone, and a very battered tangerine and lemon, the three of you essentially crawled out of the bullet train when it made it's final stop in kyoto. you limped onto the platform with a bleeding arm and face and pivoted away from tangerine and lemon who were a few steps ahead of you.

"where are you goin'?" tangerine asked baffled.

"wherever i can," you muttered lazily gesturing towards the stairs.

tangerine ran his tongue across his teeth, rolling up one of his white sleeves, "very funny love."

tangerine sauntered over to you picking you up forcing you to wrap your legs around his torso. you didn't want the help. you didn't want to feel hopeless. you didn't need the twins to sulk with you and take care of you. but you couldn't help but ease into tangerine's arms. you didn't want to admit it but they were comfortable... and familiar. you've been in this position before, legs tangled around his body, his strong arms gripping your frame. less clothes were involved those times and lips were feverishly kissing the other. but you liked this as much as it pained you to admit, it was nice being vulnerable in his arms. you knew no matter how often you two spat with the other, said you hated each other, hell, even nearly killed the other, you two were connected in some weird unexplainable manner.

so, you let him. you let tangerine carry you through the station, into an awaiting car. he'd lean your head onto his shoulder and play absentmindedly with your fingers. he hated hospitals but he wanted to get you the best medical attention. he sat by your side as you were cleaned and stitched up and then he would take you back to his house. few words spoken. he would make you tea and bring you clothes, the bed sheets and covers pulled back as you lay down and tucked you in. he'd let you cry into his arms and grieve your brother and he would be there each day moving forward.

[fedoraspooky]

(sorry for the screenshots @twilightfreefaller but I wasn't sure how else to answer submissions without like editing it and making it look like you wrote the answer too or something? .w.)

Anyway, to answer your question: The character you've drawn here (very well for mspaint i might add!) is none other than Black Ace, who belongs to @zeurelart!

The kind of tournaments you're asking about were/are known as OC Tournaments, or OCTs for short. While I may not have made Black Ace, funny enough, I was a participant in the same tournament, Escape From Nevara! Our characters never crossed paths, though. XD Here's the lil guy I entered, if you're wondering:

Also I HAVE drawn Black Ace before, fighting Chester! (Chester wasn't in Escape From Nevara so this was purely a what-if scenario I drew for funsies.)

....Damn, i was really cookin with my art back then, what happened? XD ;

Now Chester WAS in another tournament, though it was more an AU of himself. You see, back on dA around the same time was a huge open submission OCT going on called Samurai Duelers League, where you would enter your character (you DID have to change them to match the old samurai-era Japan setting of the tournament though if they otherwise didn't fit, hence the AU) and fight other people who entered, and it wasn't an elimination tournament so you could still fight others even if it was determined you lost.

Here's what Chester looked like for SDL:

And while he didn't participate in the tournament as an entrant, Chester as his normal robot self was also in spectator entries as a side character in a tournament named Infractus Fatality!

As for Charlie, I sadly only made him in the last few years or so, well after the OCT scene on dA had largely died. Not to mention I left dA due to their AI bs shortly after I made him, so even if OCTs were still a thing on there I probs wouldn't have stuck around for it. ;w;

But MAN he would've been perfect for OCTs!! I literally made him because I was inspired by watching cool stickman fight animations! And in canon he's a living weapon, he was engineered specifically for combat and blowing stuff up! If there were any characters I could have sent into a situation where they have to fight other characters for survival or a wish or what have you, it should've been him! But alas, I made him way too late.

People still run OCTs on discord and... i think twitter, these days? But idk, I don't really like being on twitter and discord is such a closed off space that discoverability is super low.

But man, I can dream...

[backtothefanfiction]

Not Your Average Damsel In Distress | Aramis Musketeers Imagine

Summary- After being kidnapped, your rescuers take too long to come to your aid, so you start to rescue yourself.

Warnings: kidnapping, mild violence, blood, a little list

A/N: Currently trying to have a clear out of my drafts. This has been sat for a while now, might be a few mistakes as this was a late night write but I really can’t be bothered to edit and read through yet again. This might end up with a part 2 as I know there’s some Aramis smut sitting in me waiting to come out and know how I want to continue this, but for now, this can act as a stand alone. Enjoy!

Your limbs were starting to ache. You didn’t know how long you had been sat here waiting; one hour- two- all you knew was the wooden chair they had placed you on was a little too small. The back dug into the underside of your shoulders blades, which were sticking out in the most awkward way, due to the fact your arms were tied around your back. The rope that bind them chafed; and you didn’t even want to get started on the rag they had gagged you with, or the stinking potato sack they had shoved over your head.

You had hoped by now that at the very least your kidnappers would have come to threaten you by now, but alas, you remained locked in this room alone waiting… and waiting…. and waiting.

You had been waiting so long now you were sure one of the boys would have noticed you were missing and began the hunt for you; but as the light began to shift- and things grew darker and darker within your potato sack- you realised you were probably going to have to get yourself out of this one on your own.

The faint sound of heavy footsteps and jangling keys making their way down the hallway gave you hope, and you sat up straighter in an attempt to compose yourself as the door was unlocked and opened, the heavy wooden door dragging loudly across the floorboards. A man cleared his throat and you listened the to the heavy fall of his footsteps and the creek of the floorboards under foot as he trod closer and closer to you.

There was a sudden flood of candlelight as the bag was ripped off of your head, a handful of hairs being pulled out with the motion. You kept your features stern, pushing away the pain, as your eyes adjusted to the light and you began to make out the figure before you. He wasn’t a big hulking man as his gate would suggest, but a man of average height, with a soft belly and thinning hair. However, despite his appearance, his rough unshaven stubble and the sallow bags under his eyes, spoke of the company he was a part of.

“Here- eat this.” He said, thrusting a tray of food in front of your face. It wasn’t much; a stale end of bread, a couple of cuts of moulding cheese and a piece of fruit- but that didn’t matter, because he had brought a small glass bottle containing something to drink into the room.

“H-w, boo, ooo, hepsep, eeh, ooo, eep, iv, iss, iii, eye, ouf.” You mumbled with the gag still in your mouth.

“Sorry, what was that love?” He gruff voice said, as he shifted the tray to balance in one hand, whilst he pulled the gag from your mouth with the other.

“Uhh thank you.” She sighed, as you tried to work the ache out of your jaw, from where it had been clenching around the gag for the better part of the afternoon. “I said,” you continued, still trying to shake off the sensation of the gag, “how do you expect me to eat with this in my mouth, however now that’s taken care of we have a whole other issue to deal with.” You paused, your eyes moving to indicate your hands tied behind your back.

“Ahhh.” He said, realising his second mistake. “Here.” He said, lifting the bit of bread to your mouth and popping it in. Not what you meant, but a perfect opportunity nonetheless. You fought to bite down on the stale bread, ripping a piece of it off, your stomach rumbling as you did so- but it wouldn’t get the chance to savour the food- because just as the man leaned back over you to take the other section of bread away from your mouth so you could easily chew, you leaned forward and head butted the man with all your might. Caught off guard, the man fell to the ground, out cold, the tray in his hand clattering to the floor- the glass bottle smashing.

Knowing you wouldn’t have long- someone would have definitely heard that and would come running- you quickly tipped over your chair and began shuffling around on the floor, trying to get a one of the broke pieces of glass. You could feel it digging into your skin, your fingers becoming slick with blood as you sawed at the rope. You bit your lip to fight off the need to cry from the pain, but the flood of relief that swelled in your chest as the rope gave way, took all of that worry away.

The moment you were free, you pushed yourself to your feet and ran for the door. As you wrenched it open, you became acutely aware of the bloody finger prints you left on the door and made a mental note to avoid touching anything else if you could help it, to avoid leaving a trail that would lead your captors straight back to you before you’d even had a chance to run.

But although you could hear a commotion downstairs, you were surprised to find no one on your tail. That was the other thing you quickly realised, you were on the third floor of a large desolate building. It was too dark outside to see where bouts you were, but given the lack of light, you surmised you had to be on the outskirts of the city at least.

The next problem became how you were going to get back down stairs and out the building without being noticed, especially when it sounded like there were a sizeable amount of men standing guard downstairs. You said standing guard lightly however, because it definitely sounded like they were fighting. But who? Each other? Or had your boys finally come to rescue you.

Sudden fear once again rocked you to your core the heavy set of footsteps and cries of “you heard what he said- get the girl” could be heard making their way up stairs.

You quickly began to back track down the hall, desperate to find a place to hide. You wanted to check doors but feared leaving bloody marks behind- however you realised, if you touched as many doors as possible before you ducked into one, maybe it would confuse them for a bit before- A pair of hands grabbed you. You were about to scream in protest when one of the hands clamped firmly over your mouth as the pulled you back into the shadows with the other. You felt a body press firmly against your own, crowding you back into the dark corner. When you looked to the face of your assailant, you were relived when your eyes met the warmth of Aramis’s.

Your chest heaved a sigh of relief, though your eyes still looked wildly at his. He silent raised a finger to his lips, begging you to remain quiet, however with the handsome musketeers body pressed firmly against your own and his hand still pressed to your lips, you couldn’t deny the sudden need and want that flooded your body under his heroic gaze. You found your thighs silently squeezing together to relieve the ache between your leg as you fought against the wanton sigh that wanted to escape your chest.

“Shit! She’s gone!” Cried out one of the men as they ran into the room you had not long left.

“What did you do?!” One of them shouted at the man she had left on the floor. “You had one job and you couldn’t even do that.”

“She can’t have gotten far.” The first man said again.

Aramis grew tense as the two of you listened from the shadows down the other end of the hallway.

“She’s injured!” Cried the second man. There was a pause and you knew they were looking at the smeared blood on the door. “Look out for blood.”

“There’s only one way out. She would have had to have gone down the stairs.” Cried the man’s voice she recognised as the man shed briefly knocked unconscious.

“We would have noticed her when we were coming up.” Said one of the other men.

“Not if she was hiding on the second floor.” Said the gravely voice of the man who had tried to feed you.

As if by a miracle, a door on the floor below slammed and they all went running down the steps after it. Both Aramis and yourself let out a sigh of relief. Slowly he lowered his hand from your mouth.

“What time do you call this?” You hissed at him.

“I’d say this was a timely rescue milady-“ he began chivalrous but was cut off by the glare you fixed him with. “We got hung up. You know, we do actually have a job taking care of the King when we are not saving your ass from whatever trouble you’re getting yourself in-“ his word was cut off by a slap to his face. He grunted slightly and although the light was dim, you could see the way his pupils flared, felt how his body twitched with arousal- before he schooled his features again.

As he rubbed at his cheek and pulled his hand away, he noticed the blood that came away on his fingers. That’s when he remembered what the men had said. “You’re injured.” He said, reaching for your hand with concern.

You attempted to snatch your hand back but he didn’t let go. “How?” He said, as he reached to cut a bit of fabric from the bottom of his shirt, to wrap around your bloodied fingers.

“What can I say. You were late, I had to get creative.” He fixed you with a look, that said ‘you better elaborate’. “Is now really the time?” You asked, but snidely squeezed your fingers. “Ow, okay- by the way, I was doing perfectly fine rescuing myself, thank you very much.” Your fingers smarted as he tied off the bandage. He dropped your hand and placed his hands on his hips, as he waited to hear the details of your hastily thought out plan.

“I think it worked pretty well.” You said with pride as you finished recounting how you had knocked your assailant unconscious and used the glass from the broken bottle to cut yourself free.

“You’re forgetting the part where you cut your hand open ready to leave them a blood trail straight back to you.” Aramis retorted as a new wave of shouts a cries echoed up from the floor below.

“Yeah, well I was working on that.” You retorted as he checked the coast was clear on your floor, before he began to lead you both out of the shadows and towards the stairs.

“And what was your great plan there?” He asked, slightly exasperated, but nevertheless intrigued.

“I was going to touch everything as much as possible to confuse them about my whereabouts, then I was going to hide and either wait for the opportune moment to sneak out or for the cavalry to arrive- which by the way, I’m assuming that’s Porthos on the floor below.” You surmised as you both paused at the top of the stairs to listen to a resounding clatter and grunt as Porthos no doubt launched a heavy piece of furniture towards his assailant.

There was another clatter before he came into view at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh good, you’ve got her.” He panted.

Aramis folded his arms and relaxed back into the wall. “Yeah, but it turns out she doesn’t need us.” He sighed playfully. “Apparently she was doing just fine on her own.”

Porthos frowned as he scanned you over. “Then why is her hand bleeding?” He mused as another set of feet thundered up the stairs to find them.

“Athos says it’s time to go.” D’Artagnan told panted as he came to a stop beside Porthos. The young man presence and statement forced Aramis to straighten and push himself off the wall as he remembered the very near danger of their surroundings.

“Come on let’s go.” Porthos encouraged and Aramis reached back for your fingers and ushered you the rest of the way down the first set of stairs, before moving a hand to your lower back to encourage you to go down the next set of steps before him.

You all hesitated at the base of the second set of stairs, hiding yourself behind Porthos’s large back as you waited for D’Artagnan to give you the all clear to move. You felt Aramis’s fingers reach for yours in the dark, both to reassure you everything would be okay and to ensure you’d both make a swift exit out the door to safety when the moment came.

When it did, you ran. And you ran. You barely noticed the unconscious bodies lying on the floor, or the last couple of men who still grappled sword to sword with Athos over by the fire, you just kept going- out the door and across the courtyard to the awaiting horses.

“Milady.” D’Artagnan said courteously as he helped you climb up onto Aramis’s horse as the man in question turned to fire his pistol at a couple of rouge assailants. Both men went down instantly, their bodies falling into crumpled heaps on the ground before the gun shots had finished echoing off the surrounding buildings.

The horse beneath stepped forward and back as it bristled against the noise but D’Artagnan held the reins steady until he could hand them off to his brother in arms.

“Don’t wait for us.” The younger man commanded, slapping the horse on its rump. Aramis nodded before snapping the reins with a cry and the two of you galloped off into the night, back towards the city.

[take-everything-you-can]

Yours Or Mine

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: So first let me just say it has been years since I've been inspired to write smut, but alas Eddie Munson has opened the floodgates. This will be the first installment of many to come as a sort of kink exploration series for Eddie and Reader. I just felt like the year anniversary of all of us loving this man would be the perfect time to post this!

I was so nervous to post this but I've had some amazing people in my corner. @astragreenwoode Thank you so much for everything that you do in editing my stories helping them flow effortlessly. I'm blessed to have you.

To the ever-so-lovely ladies @big-ope-vibes, @bimbobaggins69, and @munsonswife for beta reading and making me feel like posting this wasn't going to be the worst idea on the planet and letting me talk through my anxieties and slutty little Eddie thots.

also can't get over this amazing divider by @newlips

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem Reader ( Established relationship)

Word count: 3.9K

Tw: 18+ mdni (if you are underage gtfo this post .... seriously get lost) crude language, f receiving, m receiving, p in v sex unprotected ( pls use protection my people), subby switch if you squint, shower sex, needy Eddie I suppose, slight ball play, some soft dom Eddie

 

College ended up being harsher than you expected, but the full ride for the Cheerleading scholarship the school had given you was more than worth all the trouble you had to keep your grades up. You proudly proved to everyone that the whole ‘all cheerleaders are dumb’ stereotype was just that; an unfounded myth meant to diminish all those involved. After working your ass off throughout High School, you ended up picking one not too far from home. Having to care for your other six siblings alone was enough to drive your parents insane, so the fact that you were willing to make the commute made you an angel in their eyes.

Today ended up being especially exciting for two reasons; cheer practice would be held at your old high school, which also meant you were able to spend time with your beloved metalhead of a boyfriend. Your coach ended up dragging out practice to be longer and harsher than usual with seemingly endless drills and unnecessarily cruel critiques of your performance. It was a punishment for being late. 

Usually, that was something that would’ve set you off, but if you were being totally honest, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You welcomed it as a distraction for why exactly you came to practice so late. It was for a good reason, you swear; Eddie decided to take you on a ‘Side Quest,’ as he put it.

He took you on a small detour; pulling you into the nearest supply closet, out of the crowded hallway, and getting his hands on you as soon as possible. Almost as soon as he closed the door behind you, he used all his strength to pin you against the wood of the door. You giggled as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, leaving a torturously slow trail of pecks and nips up your jaw. He hungrily stopped at your lips, gently tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Eddie. . .” you breathed out, trying your best to compose yourself as he dragged his hand from your cheek to the curve of your cleavage rising and falling with your heartbeat beneath your uniform. “We. . .we can’t do this right now, baby. I’m gonna be late. You’re gonna be late.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the cold contrast of his rings on your bare cleavage made your body break out in goosebumps. His deep brown orbs started to darken as they threatened to pull you in and never let you go. As much as you wanted to just lean in and forget about the rest of the world outside this closet, you mustered all your strength to stop him from going forward. You giggled as you placed a hand on either side of his face, bringing his head up to make your lips touch.

“Later, Sweet Boy. I’ll still be here after practice, okay?” you whispered.

A small groan sounded from the back of Eddie’s throat; an incredibly needy sound as he pressed his forehead against yours. Even as he held onto you and batted his doe-like eyes to hypnotize you into staying, he didn’t go any further. He may be relentless, but he respects you.

“Ya promise?” he whined against your mouth.

You hummed in agreement, blindly dragging your hand around to find him as you hooked your pinkies together. He savored the kiss as long as you let him before you left the small room, wanting to imprint it in your minds to give both of you something to look forward to after you were finished with practice.

Around the time your team finished and made their way to the girl’s locker room, Eddie was fresh out of his latest session with the boys from Hellfire. You were the last one to take a shower as the other girls left, planning on meeting up with Eddie where he usually parked his van just like you did every Friday. But he had other plans today, ones that couldn’t wait any longer. As he watched the remaining members of Hellfire and the other members of your team leave the school parking lot, Eddie snuck back into the building to make sure you kept your earlier promise.

The Dungeon Master shamelessly walked into the girl’s locker room and his eyes locked on you as you were just peeling off the sweat-soaked cheer uniform. Every inch of you was flushed in tone; the bottom of your hair damp and your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat as you let your top fall to the floor. You let out a soft moan as you freed your sticky breasts from the confines of your bra. It was familiar to him; the same one he had thrown into the corner of your bedroom as he relentlessly took you to your peak just a few nights ago.

He debated on just staying there, watching you clean your body, but the twitch in his pants he got just from the sight of you told him otherwise. Eddie craved to get a taste of your salty, flushed skin before you had the chance to wipe yourself clean. He was never able to hold out from touching you for long, no matter how hard he had tried in the past. You were just as magnetic as the day he met you. What was it that people said? ‘Opposites Attract?’

Eddie leaned himself against the set of lockers closest to the showers, crossing his arms against his chest as he cleared his throat to capture your attention.

 You jumped in shock as you let out a quiet squeak. Instinctually, you used your arms to cover your chest as you turned around, not expecting anyone to be in here with you, especially not Eddie. But at the sight of him, you lowered your arms and sighed in relief but you rolled your eyes a bit. He was supposed to be cleaning out his van. He had told you it was trashed by the boys after a gig at The Hideout and said he would make sure the passenger side was clean before letting you ride in it this morning over the phone. He now stood before you, a gleam of awe in his eyes.

“See something you like, Munson?” you laughed out, turning so that you were innocently looking over your shoulder and gave him a little shake of your ass that made your cheer skirt follow.

The smirk on his face deepened and made his dimples stand more prominent on his face; it was a look he reserved just for you. He pushed himself off the lockers and slowly but surely made his way toward you.

“I sure do like what I see. But. . .you look like you could use a hand there, Sweetheart,” he purred, sticking his tongue out slightly between his teeth.

“Oh, really?” you teased, meandering your way over to meet him in the middle. He took your hand in his and allowed him to twirl you like you were waltzing, making the short little skirt that adorned your body send him into a trance. You watched his eyes size you up, trailing down from your head to your feet as you gripped the side of your skirt in frustration. How long was he going to take before holding you up on your promise?

“Yeah. . .what’s that old saying? ‘Reach out to lend a hand. . .not to bend the heart,’ or however the fuck it goes?” Eddie slithers his arms around your waist to pull your bare body flush against his clothed form, tilting his head as he gave your nose a small peck. He teasingly kissed either side of your mouth, before pulling you in to crash them against his.

“Fucking finally,” you thought to yourself; though, the heat in your belly only grew hotter now.

“Would you bend my heart, Eddie?” you whispered against his lips, almost as if telling him a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare, Princess. . .” he muttered back against you. As he made your heart flutter when his hands buried in the roots of your hair, Eddie twisted and turned your body around to bring your ass against his growing bulge. He pushed you against the shower's wall and made you arch your back, rough and gentle all at once.

“Now. . .bending you over, on the other hand. . .” he growled into your ear, sending a shiver straight down to your core as he lifted your skirt to reveal your pussy and ass practically swallowing your panties.

“That’s a whole ‘nother thing,” Eddie finished, giving your bare ass a tender slap that made you whine and jump.

The giggle that leaves you turns into a moan as he unwrapped his hand from your damp hair and tilted your head to mash his lips against yours once more. As he turns you around, the cold tile meets your back. Playing with the hem of his shirt before sliding your hand underneath it, you ghost over the trail of hair that led to the bulge in his pants now throbbing with desire. 

As you walk your fingers up his chest with a feather-light touch, you blindly trail over his tattoos engraved in your memory. You had spent many of your shared hours together tracing over the black lines etched into Eddie’s skin. On your laziest of days together, he used your body as a blank canvas to paint your skin a masterpiece of his own, purples and pinks staining your skin for days to come.

Smirking with mischief, you let your hand travel down to tease his cock by cupping him through his pants ever so slightly.

“. . .fuck,” Eddie stutters out, making you whine as he unlocks your lips. “I need to taste you... .now,” he spoke, his tone dangerously laced with need.

Eddie tugs you to sit on the small bench below the showerhead, lowering himself to his knees as he pulls your skirt and panties down. Gripping each thigh, he jerks you slightly forward to get a better angle before burying his face in between your legs. He kneads the soft meat of your thighs on either side, leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips and the tender marks of his teeth. Looking up at you with lust-blown eyes, he waits for your permission to continue, Once you give him the knowing nod of your head, he slows down as he notices just how drenched your pussy really is.

“Mmmm, such a pretty little pussy,” he mutters against you, torturously dragging his mouth everywhere but where you needed him to be.

“Tight, juicy, and all mine. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You gasp as you wait for him to touch you, frantically nodding. But that wasn’t enough; not for him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs against the skin of your thigh. “I couldn’t hear you, Sweetheart. What did you just say?”

You simultaneously whined and groaned with frustration.

“Yes,” you gasped. “It’s yours, Eddie. It’s your pussy. Now, please, please just fuck me.”

“Such a desperate little slut. I’m right here, baby. ‘M not going anywhere. Not when I have such a tasty little snack on a silver platter right in front of me.”

You want nothing more at that moment than to tell him to shut the hell up and stop playing with his food. But before you can utter a word, he cuts you off by flattening his tongue against you. He licks up your arousal from the bottom of your opening to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves for a little while before wrapping his lips around it. You swear to God that Eddie’s trying to destroy you, to somehow devour your soul as he does the same to your pussy. Everything he does to you drives you crazy; severs your train of thought from its track. All that’s swirling around in your mind is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The sound of his tongue lapping up your slick and sliding through your folds coaxed a moan out of you that echoes off the tiled walls of the locker room. It feeds Eddie’s ego full as he moans against your soaking mound, the vibrations of his hums igniting the fire in you and sending the flames higher and higher. As your legs quiver at the intensity and the coil in your stomach starts to loom, he pushes his hands against your thighs to keep you from slipping off the bench and against the wall. You dig your hands into the roots of his dark curls, earning another hum of appreciation before detaching his lips from you to circle his tongue around your clit again.

Eddie looks up at you with a coy smile and hazy eyes, the mixture of your arousal and his spit dripping down his chin as he latches his mouth around you again. He effortlessly slides his finger in and out of you. The sinful slurping sounds that fill the air send waves of phantom pleasure washing over you. It felt something akin to a dream; déjà vu. You gasp as Eddie slips a second finger into you, the cool metal of his rings bumping against your entrance making your pussy flutter around him at the unexpected contrast.

“Shhiiitt, you’re takin’ my fingers so well, Sweetheart. Can’t wait to have that tight little pussy wrapped around me,” he purred against your clit as he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. He can tell by your breath and the way you tremble beneath his mouth that you’re about to snap. It encouraged him to frantically pick up the pace of his fingers and playfully shake his head back against your clit, bringing you over the edge and sending your body into pure bliss. 

Eddie wasted no time drinking up all that released from you, licking up every drop from between the lips of your pussy to where it was caked on the inside of your thighs. It was ambrosia on his tongue, salty sweat and musk mixed with his spit and your release. He was so glad he decided to stop you from showering when he did; you wouldn’t have ended up tasting nearly as good as you did now.

The fog from your mind started to clear as you come back down to earth again, Your breathing returned to normal again after Eddie lowered your thighs back onto his shoulders. He snuggles himself into the embrace of your legs, leaning his cheek into your palm that traveled down from his hair.

 "Well I'd say you definitely lent a helping hand, but now it's my turn pretty boy." He laughs as he brings his fingers to your mouth, pressing them past your teeth and letting them settle, as you suck your arousal off of him. Moaning through closed eyes basking in the reminder of how Eddie made you feel on top of the world, you were gonna return the favor. 

He had always adored when you would get that look in your eyes after making you cum. Your eyes would get a bit glassy and your lids would draw almost as if fighting sleep. No, you weren't fighting to sleep, you were just turning the cogs trying to figure out how you were going to please your man. You had turned the shower on to the hottest it would go, never reaching past a lukewarm. If Hawkins was one thing it was never efficient.

“ I don’t think it’s very fair that I have to be naked and you get to be fully clothed. I think we need to fix that.” he took a tendril of hair that had fallen into your face and tucked it behind your ear.

“Well if you still have the ability to think straight I don't think I've done my job right princess.”  He pulls the shirt from the nape of his neck up and over his head and tosses it towards the pile you had started on the tile floor. Before he can reach for them you are already lowering yourself to your knees as your hands unbutton his jeans and slip his zipper down slowly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“ Fuck me, man.” It comes out breathy and hitched as you tug his jeans and boxers to his ankles. Watching as his dick springs from the second tug down, smacking his stomach as his precum leaves a mess making your mouth water, a reflex making you bite down so hard on your bottom lip you swear you can taste the metallic trickle of blood. He kicks his pants to the side as he takes a seat on the bench you were on not long ago.

The tile was biting into your knees but you had been through worse trying to suck Eddie off, Skull Rock had a particularly awful patch of prickly trees that Eddie just loves to stand beneath. Looking up at him now he had nothing but love for you in those eyes. 

His breathing hitches as you lick the mess off his stomach, mixing it on your tongue as you let a glob of drool drop to the tip of his dick as you take your hand and rub it along his shaft. The size of him always had your thighs clenching. He was length and girth in all the right places. The thought of him filling you had your arousal dripping onto the tile below you. You lowered your head taking Eddie into your mouth swirling your tongue around his tip and across his slit as he clutched a fist into your hair as you began to bob up and down a perfect rhythm you had found he fell for. 

“ Holy shit, Baby, Just like that, yes fuuuck,  Just like that .” His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed as the water from the shower mist  hit his chest rolling down his flexed stomach, cooling the heat that was rising within him. You could see a small thank you on his lips as he held out his breath feeling you take him to his hilt and hearing the sound of your throat gag against him, the vibrations of the moan sending a shiver down his spine. 

You had slipped off of his length and licked down to the sack underneath, hands working along as you found your way. A small whimper from Eddie as you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked along the skin feeling the weight of his need making you moan and Eddie's grip on your hair tightened. He pulled up off of him with a wet pop, his balls were extremely sensitive. A lesson you learned on a rainy day in May as your boardroom hit rock bottom and Eddie had looked like a god coming out of the shower. Letting the spit fall as your hands continuously worked their way up and down his length. 

“ Come on honey Please.” you let out a giggle, one that made him grip your hair hard,  pulling back until you were face to face with him.

 “ Who's desperate now?” Instead of words, you knew he would make you pay for laughing at his plea. Standing fast as he bent you over again just as he did when you first started this little act except this time he brutally slammed his cock straight into you. A whine ripped through you gasping for air around his moans. They were muffled against your skin bending with you as you found a grip on the wall in front of you as the water made everything around you slick. 

Once your hold was solid his grip on your hips let you know his pace was about to be fast and rough. Slamming into you over and over the sounds of his balls slapping against the arousal that was dripping from you and echoing off the walls. The dirty thoughts of how anyone could walk in at any moment to check and make sure that someone was not in any harm, and would instead find you a moaning mess, getting railed in the best way by the freak of Hawkins High. A freak he was indeed. You look at your wrist and see the light bruises he had left not long ago from some handcuffs and his headboard. This then led you to another thought of how he had used those handcuffs in the hideout one night after a long show, a night where he had promised to lock up for the owner but instead, he had you cuffed to a wall and set up on his amp as he played riffs through your orgasms. He had recorded some little tapes for himself. The breathless gruff in his voice brought you back to now. 

“ You in that pretty little head baby? You keep squeezing the fuck out of me with that tight pussy of yours. What's got, you so bot-thered baby? Come on we got all weekend to fuck those thoughts out. Just let go, baby, just let go. Come on sweet thing.“ 

You can feel him closing in on his climax. The hitch in his pace is a telltale sign. You moan and mewl under him pushing back with more pressure as your own climax begins to build and hit that high. 

“ No words hunny? Dick just that good hmm?” you nod as the coil snaps for the second time. Throwing your head back into his shoulder as you ride out your high.

“ Yes Eddie! God Yes! Always so good to me. Always. So. good. To. Me.” as you gush around him he thrust into you a few more times as the ropes of his pleasure begin to paint your walls. The grunts and moans of his release could make you come again just by the way he grips onto you, making sure that you are glued to him. Every single drop of him sealed within you.

He falls flush to you slipping out with a hiss and turns you in his arms as you both stand wrapped into each other's arms. He kisses your shoulder and the crook of your neck. You squish your face against the flat of his chest and the thick of his arm as you let your eyelids drift closed just reveling in the moment as the water washes over you both. He nudges your ear with his nose as you turn your face up to him he catches your lips in a hungry yet slow kiss, letting his forehead fall to yours.

 “ You know I love you, pretty girl. You know that right?” you hum a satisfied tune into his mouth as you kiss him softly.

 “ I love you more handsome.” he lets out a low laugh.

” Not possible .” bringing your face back to his chest. 

“ Yes possible .”  Then everything goes Dark. You can feel Eddie but you can’t see him. You conclude that a janitor had turned off the lights, thinking everyone had gone home for the night. Not the first time that it had happened and it would probably not be the last.  But thankfully Eddie being Eddie knew exactly how to get you out, another time he would save you, your hero. Your freak, Your love.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

“She played the "you can only see parts of the baby and not his face" game that all celebs play when they want a People payday for their baby. We didn't get a clear photo of Archie's face until the christening.” I’ve written in to other blogs but one of the reasons she failed her is that People has never paid for Royal baby photos so why would they start now? If I recall correctly, the Jolie Pitt twins were one of the highest paydays People might have paid for pictures. Alas with People’s new owners, the pockets aren’t that deep anymore. It’s been YEARS since they’ve paid any significant amount of money for baby photos. Unless they can sell more copies and circulation numbers have declined significantly, this never will be an option. Long story short, People will not be paying photos of non-Royal babies.

I didn't mean People Magazine literally. All the American supermarket tabloids bought celebrities' baby pictures in the late 90s through the mid-00s. People was just the more prolific one, having gotten Tom/Katie/Suri's pictures and Brad/Angelina/Shiloh's pictures.

And yes, the royals have sold their baby pictures before. Zara and Mike sold their pictures with Mia to Hello, which is the UK edition of People Magazine. So there is/was precedent for Meghan and Harry to have sold their baby pictures and People would've most likely considered buying them except the price Meghan was asking was probably too high. (The gossip suggests she was asking for William-and-Kate-level prices, which would've also been Tom/Katie and Brangelina prices.)

Then with the advent of social media, celebrities stopped selling their kids' pictures and started sharing them themselves. The whole act of selling baby photos to the magazines was to take power from the paparazzi - that's actually how it started. These were huge celebrities, pop culture zeitgest celebrities, that no one expected to get married (let alone to each other) and have children so the paparazzi/tabloid culture of the mid-00s were out in full rabid force for any crumb of information, any trace of a photograph about them and their new kids. So to make the paparazzi go away, and to make the paparazzi/tabloid photos worthless, these celebs made deals with magazines like People and Hello. It worked, until social media came along.

And it's because of social media that publications like People aren't buying any baby photos these days. The whole thing was moot to begin with. Meghan was barking up non-existent trees in the first place. She might've had better luck for a payday if she went back to Vanity Fair with Wild About Harry 2.0 or used her British Vogue edition for motherhood instead of ripping off an Australian publication with forces of change. (I think it was Australian. Don't remember and I'm too lazy to look it up at the moment.)

[nomelwelloy]

Neuvilette & Wriothesley drabble | fluff

a/n: kinda modern au kinda not, wish hat jellyfish beanies were real… also forgot to mention this was inspired by that one ep in ‘the masterful cat is depressed again’ ;; (that show is so good) [edited]

"You look nice," he has the slightest curl on the corner of his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen you in casual clothes." he catches the light dusting of pink over Neuvilette's cheeks. "Are these new?"

His cheeks darken further. He had had no other choice. All there were in his wardrobe were his work robes, and when he realised this it was already too late; the day out of the outing had come. Neuvilette clears his throat, his mind flashing back to a mere two hours ago at the boutique. "Yes," he picks at the collar of his dress shirt. "You can tell?" he wonders quietly to himself.

There's a delayed beat of silence when they come to a stop at the traffic crossing.

"It doesn't smell like you,"

Neuvilette turns away to hide the growing flush on his cheeks, but alas, the red reaches even the tip of his ears.

Wriothesley bites back another grin, both embarrassed at his words yet dizzingly proud to have elicited such a reaction from the judge. "Also, the tag is still here,"

"Ah," he calmly responds. Neuvilette rips it off and stuffs it into his pocket, still unable to meet his eye. "Shall we cross?" The pedestrian light flickers to green then and he strides ahead and leaves Wriothesley jogging to catch up with him.

"Thank you for accompanying me today," he cracks another grin, sharp canine peeking from under his lip. "I didn't think I'd be able to get the Chief Justice to go out, let alone to the amusement park."

"If Sigewinne wants to go," Neuvilitte corrects. "Of course I have to come,"

They reach the entrance, spotting her up ahead. She's already geared up in her blubberbeast-themed novelty hat, balloon corsage and her eyes are glittering with an excitement visible from even a mile away.

Wriothesley waves back and they join the entry queue, while Sigewinne is distracted by another amusement park goer, eyes glued to his hat jellyfish beanie.

"Well then, I suppose I'll have to get Sigewinne out more often." Wriothesley says with a wistful sigh. "But she's already so busy, I'd hate to trouble her..."

Neuvilette eyes him warily, yet slightly amused. "And I am not?"

Wriothesely gently urges him further into the queue with a small hand on his back, an easy motion that comes without much thought. "Of course, but I'd hate to see the great Chief Justice overworked."

"I'll think about it," Neuvilette passes their tickets to the staff and thanks her, finally clearing the entrance. "No promises,"

Wriothesley briefly leans in, "That's good enough for me," he says quietly, letting his words brush past his ear before he's strolling ahead to join Sigewinne.

Neuvilette bites back a sigh, yet not at entirely displeased. He adjusts his coat and gives it a firm tug, like he does every time before entering court.

He joins them, barely resisting Wriothesley's when the hat jellyfish beanie is placed upon on him.

[erenspussy420]

I NEED A PART 6 OF THE ANDROID AU

Well I do have part of it here. Been trying to get back into writing again

EDIT: Below I added in a new addition. This is a separate piece of the Android Au but still same Manager Unit but stuck in the NRC we all know and play

.

.

Crowley looks around, a hand raised to his lips as his teeth nibble at his gloved fingertips. “Oh dear! Oh dear oh dear!” He flits back and forth, torn between calling the young promising buyer back to the hall where he could at the very least keep them busy. Or risking the Lilia Unit slipping by. Alas he is too late, the buyer is far too engrossed to pull away, so he does his best option. His failsafe that never falters in times where her master will graciously take a supporting hand.

He raises his hand— and pinches the air, dragging it down until a mirror scrolls down. He clears his throat, he casts his spell.” Mira, Mira, connect to the Scarabia Chambers.” A dial tone rang, and there he connected.

.

.

.

Manager Unit slumped over where she was left behind. Her back no doubt would be aching if she had been a real human, but thankfully she is spared such a fate. Her eyes were shut, as if she was finally taking a nap from her never ending chores so graciously written up by her beloved charming yet humble—

Oh, her offline radar spikes as the shudder of noise scratches the walls.

His voice booms over the intercom: Manager Unit! Manager Unit, please wake up! We have a situation in the Diasomnia Chambers! A batty type!

However he has yet to say his secret phrase. A very silly phrase known by his fellow Raven Works employees in such times. His reliable Manager Unit stays asleep on her feet.

“Oh Sevens! Meaty Meat Lovers Delight!”

A faint click, followed by several melodic beats, as a burst of glitter and a bibitty bobbity boo— awakens the sleeping android. Tawny eyes, and dark lashes flutter, silicone skin that creases as she awakens. Manager Unit eyes clench before fluttering open. Memory reboots as she takes in her surroundings. She blinks once, twice, and then begins sprinting for the magical mirror.

“Oh not again! Lilia!” She shrieks running out, skirts rustling.

EDIT: Here is another spin off version of it, Manager Unit gets to go to NRC and our Crowley has a new maid

On the day new students arrived at the esteemed Night Raven College, Crowley found a delightful surprise awaiting him. Laying right there in the middle of his office, tied off with a largely comical red bow it sat there—- menacingly. “How? He utters, the feathers of his cape ruffle as he looks over it, cane held in a tight grip. It was one thing if his upper class students liked to play jokes for newcomers. Some in good laughs others lacking the refinery but the spirit is there!

It was another thing entirely how they managed to sneak into his office lugging a gate from the designated area! Oh, those cheeky little boys! 

However! A very big however, mind you, no student should have been able to move this gate from the chambers. No matter how clever, wicked or even foolishly lucky— this is no practical joke. Somehow, someone had managed to bypass all his security, the ghost patrol and even the looming eyes of the Seven who guard his office.

“Did you see who it was?” He asked out, his talons drum again the same wood they had used for their own gates. The wood felt warm, a light rumbling trembled its spot—his feathers stayed in place. There was the foggy glass, smoking and turning him away.

“No,” The great mage of Agrabah pressed into the canvas as far he could to peek,” It became dark, as if all the light in the world had flickered. And then this little…precious thing came to be.”

“Quite the show boating,” The portrait of the great faerie Queen remarks with a huff,” Can you not sense it? The magic within?”

 His magic spirals, sneaking around the gate for a sense of magic or something. Whatever gave way to what’s inside. A part of him thinks it might be a silly prank, the other part felt more concern. Within the student population, were children of prominent backgrounds with much attention paid to them by their own fellow students— and those outside of the college's protection. Due to such important figures, and of course in general concern of their students, the magical barrier would immediately kick out anyone not affiliated with the college.

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition: Diana Fowl(ey) Play– Part V: AUs, S5-S6

Alas, alas, poor Yorick-- I am not done the Diana fic train. BUT we have reached AU fics... and that means I only have this post and at least another one. So, freedom is within my grasp.

Loose chronological order below~!

ceruleanmilieu’s One of the Girls (alt. Ao3)

""Agent Fowley, I apologize for any perceived disrespect,” Scully said. “We were simply discussing theories—”

“Theories?” Diana repeated. “That does take me back. Back to the basement office. There’s nothing quite like working a case with Fox Mulder.”

“You flatter me, Agent Fowley,” Mulder said, shifting closer to his partner. “But Agent Scully and I are running late for a meetup with Danny. We’ll report our findings to Agent Spender as soon as possible.”

Diana nodded, and it was as though something in the shrewd way her thin lips upturned, Scully understood the other woman’s cool behavior. There had been a moment of confusion at first, but being locked in a conversational triangle with the exes gave her a sharp thrill.""

The End Mulder evades Diana's amorous attempts by pretending he is dating Scully. Scully, meanwhile, is shocked and a bit peeved; but comes around, helping him to flesh out a plan.

@contrivedcoincidences6 / Spooky66 / geektime66's

Quantifiable (Ao3)

""Diana’s eyes narrowed but before she could say anything Mulder spoke up, “Scully’s right, this could be the key to everything in the X Files. We need to bring this to Skinner, this is leverage, let’s go.”

In true Mulder fashion he began to gather his things in a rush, ready to move onto the next thing but Diana reached forward to grab his hand.""

AU-- The End Mulder and Scully are dating; and it's her great delight to step all over Diana's toes.

@baronessblixen’s (Ao3)  

In Hallways (Ao3)

""Excuse me?" He grabs her arm, not gently, and drags her into a corner. His body is too close to hers and he can smell her; she hasn't changed her perfume. She's the same woman who left him years ago.

"I saw the way you looked at… what's her name?"

"You know very well what her name is," Mulder growls.

"Her name isn't on the door," Diana says, smiling innocently, showing her white teeth. "It must have slipped my mind.""

AU-- The End Diana is furious Mulder and Scully are already dating, taking her anger out snidely on Scully. Mulder stands up for her.

All I Want For Christmas (Is You) (Ao3)

""Aren’t you going to let me in?” She pushes at his chest with a smile and he knows she wouldn’t accept a no anyway. He steps aside and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Mulder, who-”

“Agent Scully.” The two women speak at the same time, staring each other down. Mulder watches, swallows, and doesn’t know what to do.

“Rather early for a visit.” Diana is the first of them to find her voice. “But I see you’re leaving.” Scully touches the scarf that’s around her neck and he sees her face fall. She presses her lips together, swallowing what he’s sure are some colorful words. It breaks his heart to see her smile gone. He won’t hear her laughter again tonight.""

The Ghosts That Stole Christmas Diana drops by Mulder's. He leaves her and chases after Scully, who had booked it to her family's.

Making Progress

""No, Diana. That was all you.” Mulder’s voice picks up, is louder now over the fake laughter on the screen. “No, I did not. Not once.” If only Scully could hear Diana’s side of the conversation. Mulder is quiet, appears to listen. He sighs once, runs his hand over his face.

Arcadia Scully overhears Mulder laying down the law to Diana on the phone. (Sidenote: this might not be AU, but I missed the opportunity to put it in an earlier fic list. Whoops~.)

Gwendolyn's Fox Mulder Estrogen Brigade

""OK, Scully. But it wasn't exactly my proudest moment," Mulder began, deciding to get through it as quickly as possible. "Diana and I had been seeing each other for a while but I was just stumbling into the X-Files and all of a sudden, I guess I just wasn't as interested in the relationship as I had been. She wanted a commitment and even started talking about marriage.

"Well, I sort of freaked out about that. You may not know this about me, Scully, but I have a bit of a problem with intimacy, which Phoebe probably had a little something to do with." He stopped to gauge Scully's reaction; she only nodded sagely and arched her brow to indicate that he should continue.

"Anyway, she had to go out of the country for a few months on assignment, so instead of making a clean break with her like I should have, I said that during the time she was away we should take some time off, see other people. I was hoping that while she was gone she'd realize what a basket case I was and meet somebody else and dump me."

"But that didn't happen?"

"No. She kept calling and writing to me the whole time she was gone and when it got time for her to come back, I panicked. So..." he paused briefly, averting his eyes from his partner's intense gaze and bowing his head before continuing in a rush "I decided to tell her I'd married somebody else. I bought a ring and everything.""

Crackfic-esque-- Pre-FTF Mulder is bombarded by both of his exes as they team up to forcefully help him and Scully on a case. (I love this one to death. Hilarious and surprisingly wholesome?)

@frostbitepandaaaaa / FrostbitePanda's Four Days AU

""Besides, I’m not really here for professional reasons, like I told you before. My motivations are more… personal.”

Scully catches the moan of pain that bubbles up from her gut before it can escape her mouth, clenches her teeth and finishes her drink. She feels like, maybe, throwing up. She feels like, maybe, turning tail and fleeing. She feels like, maybe, her and Mulder would never be left in peace.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a Special Agent Fox Mulder, would you?”

Her mouth is completely dry, her voice simply lodged in her throat as good as an axe in a stump. The woman in front of her seems blissfully unaware.

“Him and I… we have a bit of a history, you know,” Diana goes on, goes on torturing her. She stirs her drink, looking sad, wistful. “We left things a bit… unfinished.""

Part 2 of Mulder and Scully's aftermath in Antarctica, Diana Fowley crashes an FBI ball, surprising Scully (who hadn't met her in The End) and trying to claim Mulder for herself. Skinner gives Scully the boost she needs to end this charade once and for all.

@suitablyaggrieved / ScullyLovesQueequeg Cancelled Plans

""Oh, hey Diana,” Scully heard Mulder say. This bothered Scully a little since she had only just been there in the office, but she said nothing, pretending not to listen to the ensuing conversation, instead busying herself with the mail that was marked as hers that was resting on the corner of Mulder’s desk.

“This Saturday? Not really, no… I haven’t really thought to ask anyone out. I think she’s doing something. Why?” Mulder asked, glancing at Scully, and then down at his desk.

Memo, report, HR. Things I can deal with later, Scully thought to herself.

“Hmm, I guess. If you’re buying, I’ll consider it. I’ll see you soon, we can sort the details out tomorrow.” Mulder said, with a tone of finality that suggested the conversation was over."" 

It's Valentine's Day post FTF; and Diana invites Mulder out. Scully sorts her wounded feelings, trying to distance herself from the hurt. When Mulder realizes she has no plans, he swaps to celebrate the day with her.

Suzanne Schramm's Fidelity (1/2) and Fidelity (2/2)

""Whether you want to believe it or not, Fox, doesn't change the reality of the situation." she said quietly. Mulder shrugged. "How do you know she's clean?" Diana asked.

"How do I know?" Mulder shifted in his seat to face her. "Diana, I know my partner. I know her. Scully is one of the most honorable people I've ever known. She would never betray me."

"But she has. She didn't tell you where she was going or what she was doing even though it involves your life's work. She lied about why she was taking time off from work. Why would she keep that from you?""

Post The Beginning Gibson begs Scully to secretly meet up with him. He turns on a module in her brain that activates abilities like his own; and when Diana swoops in to capture her-- claiming she's aiding and abetting the Conspirators hiding Gibson-- Mulder almost sides with his ex, unable to explain Scully's bizarre behavior. Almost.

incidental's

Echoes

""As the elevator doors opened up on the fourth floor of his building, she saw Agent Fowley stepping out of his apartment, her arms full of manila folders stamped with case numbers. She turned on her heels, saying some parting words to him before she began walking down the hall towards Scully. As Diana made eye contact with her, Scully wished she could have evaporated on the spot, but it never seemed to work out like that when you most wanted it to. So she settled for offering a small half-wave as they passed each other.

“Agent Scully,” Diana said haughtily, shaking out her long, dark hair a bit as she passed by. Scully opted to say nothing, marching straight to Mulder’s door but pausing as her fist hung in midair, ready to knock. Did she want to find out what Fowley was doing there?

Early S6 Scully runs into Diana leaving Mulder's apartment. She confronts him on why Diana can call him Fox but she can't. Her anger then turns around when Mulder explains his ex's disregard.

Keep It All the Year

""I came here to save you from making a terrible mistake,” Diana said hotly, slamming the first empty martini glass onto the counter. “I assume if you’re out here with her family, it’s because you’re planning on proposing.”

Mulder started laughing, which only seemed to make her angrier.

“You think I don’t remember? You told me once that statistically the most popular month for engagements is December, and the most popular day in the whole year to get engaged is December 25th. You must think I’m an idiot.”

“Finally, you hit the nail on the head,” he said, his voice dripping with derision.""

AU-- TGTSC Scully ropes Mulder into going with her to family Christmas in San Diego. Diana crashes their good vibes by flying out, making out with an unwilling Mulder, and landing him in the hospital from a punch out. Thankfully, Charlie is there to iron out those crazy kids and their wild misunderstandings (while Bill turns from a raging bull into just.. baffled.)

Note: The Diana part is just a tiny portion of this wacky, feel-good read. Highly recommend.

@cutelilcurtain / cutelilscully's (Ao3)

Unnamed

""Eventually she cools down, but then is embarrassed to be around Diana. It’s as if Diana knows some secret about her, has read her diary and knows all the gossip about her. Scully does her best to ignore it, and is surprised and thankful when Diana doesn’t bring it up or ask. Scully wonders if Diana has children, has ever wanted children, has ever wanted Mulder’s children. It makes her angry and jealous.""

Mulder incenses Scully when he tells Diana about their IVF tries. Diana is, surprisingly, sympathetic concerning their failure.

HumphreyWrites / sure-fine-skullz / spookysadsophie's

Sundries in the X-Files Universe

""He begrudgingly answers it, and she watches his lip curl in aggravation as Diana Fowley's voice vibrates through the phone.

When he hangs up, she knows whatever magical moment between them is over."" 

AU-- The IVF works... and it's twins. Though Diana is a blip in the overall fic, she weighs heavily on Scully's early pregnancy journey, constantly drawing Mulder away to herself.

Michelle Kiefer’s Buried Deep

""Everything was familiar to her, a nightmare she'd dreamed night after night, but this time there was something different. A new face looked on from behind the doctors. Diana Fowley's eyes bore into her from above the surgical mask that obscured the rest of her face.""

Post Tithonus Scully has a flash of Diana from an abduction memory during her physio appointment. She keeps her memories to herself.

o0Stella_Dana0o's The Promises You Can't Keep

""Well, well, well... Look who's here!" The brunette said at her partner. Scully could see Diana's mocking look and it didn't take much to make her want to solve this case just to rip that expression out of her face.""

Mulder convinces Scully to help him help out Diana and Jeffrey Spender on a case. Of course, it all goes wrong-- but he's absolutely furious when he finds out Diana had "negligently" let Scully get shot.

@slippinmickeys‘s (Ao3, Gossamer) 

Diana At the Door

""When the Smoker had recalled her back to the States, she had been confident she would be able to manipulate the situation back on track as she always had, but Fox’s partner had proven to be a surprisingly stubborn obstacle, seeing through Diana’s machinations like an X-ray through soft tissue. Diana had thought the woman had been handled several years before — run through the Project’s standard pump-and-dump operation when she became problematic — lending the Project an influx of fresh DNA while at the same time being eliminated had seemed a tidy solution at the time. When the woman had survived, Diana was surprised but unbothered, knowing the cancer fail-safe would soon resolve the matter. And then the Smoker — supine and (she could only imagine) lovesick — had capitulated to Fox’s weak threats and now needed Diana to come in and clean up his mess. She had no idea what the two men saw in the diminutive little priss, but she was confident that she could at least distract Fox long enough to make him temporarily forget. She had it on good authority that Agent Scully was drawn to authoritative father figures, and Fox Mulder – particularly under the spell of Diana Fowley’s time-tested and humbling cunt – was not the young woman’s type. It would be easy, she thought. It might even be fun.""

Pre-Two Fathers? Diana foully (heh) disregards both Scully's and Mulder's feelings, planning to boldly trap him in her web. She is shocked and appalled to find her rival unrepentant and in loungewear at her ex's.

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 1

""Then why don’t you have a desk?”

It was a purposeful cut, the gloves coming off, and Scully both relished it and was annoyed at its callow nature. If that was how it was going to be, fine . 

She stood up straighter and walked casually around the side of Mulder’s desk and sat down in the chair. While maintaining eye contact with Fowley, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a hot pink nail file and set it to the edge of her finger.""

Post One Son Scully will win the X-Files partnership power struggle Diana wars for. (I love this one so much.)

@softnow's (Ao3) redux iii

""He’s locking the door when he hears the heels and stops breathing. If she’s back, it can’t be that bad. If she’s back, she’s not dying.

“Scu—” He whips his head up and her name dies on his lips. “Diana.”

“Fox.”

“What are you doing here?”

Diana casts around like there might be someone lurking in the shadows, watching. There’s a manila envelope in her hands.""

AU-- Post One Son Mulder realizes Scully's nose has been bleeding, breezing by Diana's amorous attempts to support his partner and find out her results. It's not good.

Becksndot5's Soul in the dark

""What she didn't want, in the eyes of a woman, this woman, was to act weak and helpless. On the other hand, she also didn't want Fowley to see her with all her wounds. "Mulder, how bad ... how bad do I look?" Her voice made it clear that she expected an honest answer.

"The swelling of your eyes is gone, it’s a little black and blue around the edge of your eyes, and otherwise there is only the cut." Although Scully was never overly vain, Mulder knew that Diana had an impact on Scully's behavior. Diana had the power that Scully felt somehow inferior and small in her presence. The reasons were another mystery, which he had to elicit from Scully.

Mulder went back to the door and asked Diana to come inside. Scully welcomed her politely and Diana put the open file before her on the kitchen table. Mulder stood besides Scully.

"Agent Scully, I need your signature once here and here.“ Diana said while tapping with her fingertips on the paper. Without hesitation and before Scully could stiffen in shame, Mulder lovingly Scully took her hand and placed the pen which she already held, as if this gesture was the most normal thing in the world, to the right place.

Mulder's icy gaze met Diana, like a spearhead."" 

Post One Son Scully is kidnapped, tortured, blinded, and handicapped. Mulder is all-on-board to care for and help her recover and to protect her from Diana's cruel pokes.

Enjoy!

[albany-m]

Open Mic Night

I thought I was going to have more time to finish this one this week, but alas, college life and extracurriculars have caught up to me. Still, I am very attached to this piece, and I have had this idea for a while. I hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 2,468

Content Warnings: mild panic attack, self-deprecation, mention of a noose in song lyrics

Summary: Pari signed up to sing a favorite song of hers at an open mic night, and all of her friends come along to watch. It's dark and snowy, and she's getting more and more nervous. She admits she's scared when she's in the bathroom, and Kariah helps her out. Pari gets up onstage and performs, any nerves immediately fading. All of the friends applaud and compliment her, and it ends in a group hug and late-night food.

Content Used: "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons

Edit: @eventidebrine DREW ART OF THIS I'M SCREAMING

_________________________________________

It was a cold, snowy Monday night. A very anxious Pari was walking briskly through the snow, holding gloved hands tightly with Kariah, wearing her guitar on her back. Behind them was the rest of the friend group; Faith, Christine, Todd, Marisol, and Tristan. They were all happily chatting amongst each other (minus Faith and Christine, who were arguing again,) and Pari had it completely tuned out.

“How are you feeling?” Kariah asked, squeezing Pari’s hand. She looked gorgeous in her champagne-colored puffy jacket. Pari wished wearing her hair down everyday didn’t bother her as much as it did; her ears were pretty cold from her hair in her signature bun.

“Fine,” Pari said, but that was not what she meant.

Tonight was the yearly open mic night. This one was different from most; you had to sign up in advance in order to be able to perform. Todd said he had heard rumors that it had gone on for almost three hours last year, so they were doing this to shorten it. This year, Pari decided on a whim that she would try to sign up for a position, not expecting for there to be one open for her.

But there was exactly one. Which meant that she was performing in front of an audience.

Pari wasn’t the type that had stage fright normally, but something about this was daunting. Maybe because of the rawness of the song she was playing, and how she would be able to see every single audience member. Also, all of her friends insisted on going along, and none of them had ever heard Pari sing. Todd had heard her tune her guitar, but he had never heard her playing a full song, and he especially had never heard her sing.

What if her voice wasn’t good? What if she was too quiet?

“Honey, you’re not fine. You forget that I can see right through you.” Kariah squeezed Pari’s hand tight. “You’re going to do amazing.”

“You got this, Pari!” Marisol squealed, skipping forward to walk next to her. She was wearing a beanie, her hair now about pixie cut length, and her jacket was so big on her that it didn’t look like she could move her arms. Pari glanced back at Todd, who was looking at Marisol fondly. She smiled softly at him, and then looked back at her.

“Thanks, Marisol.”

They arrived at the cafe moments later, and the anxiety was beginning to overtake Pari. She took a deep breath and then, as a form of comfort, made sure she had everything.

“I have my guitar… Kariah, you have my backpack?”

“Yep. And I looked at your list. Your shirt, skirt, headband, brush, makeup, and heels are all inside. I triple checked.”

Pari breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re perfect. Thank you.”

Todd stepped forward to be near Pari, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Pari, you’re gonna be great up there. I can’t wait to hear you sing.”

“And,” Kariah added, “I’m proud of you for trying something new, even if it’s scary. You’re going through with it even though it scares you, and that is bravery if I’ve ever seen it.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” Pari snapped, and she looked down, guilt already filling her heart. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

Tristan came up from behind Pari and wrapped her in a big bear hug, patting her shoulder roughly, yet it was comforting. “You’re gonna kill it, Par!”

Pari looked back at Christine, who nodded at her. “You’ll be fine.”

Faith shoved her girlfriend and leaned forward. “You’re going to, like, kill it out there! I don’t know why you didn’t want me to ask daddy to record it professionally.”

“I’d rather not feel like I’m on a news show when I’m performing,” Pari responded. “Also, thank you guys.”

Feeling supported by her friends, Pari walked inside, taking a deep breath. It was, thankfully, right between performances, so nothing was interrupted.

“Y’all go find us seats. Todd, save me one up front. I’m gonna go with Pari to get ready.” Todd nodded and grabbed a program as Pari handed him her guitar. He led everyone to their seats as they all grabbed programs. Tristan handed a couple to Pari and Kariah, and Kariah opened it immediately.

“We have four performances to get you ready, Par. Come on, let’s go find the bathroom.”

Pari took Kariah by the hand, and Kariah briskly led Pari to the restroom. It was a small, yet surprisingly clean single-stall bathroom.

“You go in the stall and change, and I’ll get your makeup and stuff out and get ready to doll you up.” Kariah reached into the bag and handed Pari her clothes. Taking a shaky breath, Pari took them, and she slipped into the stall, shutting the door behind her.

The more Pari thought about the performance, the more anxiety she began to have. She had signed up for this because… well, one, she didn’t think there would actually be a spot for her, and two, because she wanted to give back to her community by participating in a local event. And she wanted to do that, but the idea of going up on that little stage and completely letting herself go in front of all of those people sent a wave of nervousness throughout her body. She would be performing, something she didn’t normally do, and she chose a song that made her feel vulnerable. No one had heard her sing. Kariah was the performer, not her.

Soon, the thoughts came rushing back. “I’m not good enough.” “I can’t do this.” “Everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

And as soon as Pari was dressed, she crumpled to the ground, tears streaming down her face.

Kariah knocked on Pari’s stall door, and Pari moved just enough to open it for her. She sat down next to her girlfriend, brushing a hair out of her face.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m…” It was hard for her to admit it, but she did. “I’m scared.”

“Oh, honey…” Kariah wiped a tear off of her face. “Can I hug you?”

“Please… please do.”

Moments later, Pari felt Kariah’s arms around her, and she melted into them, holding onto her so tightly. She was shaking, fearing what was going to happen when she got on that stage. And now that she was crying, it was going to look like she didn’t want to be there. She did.

She was just scared.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kariah whispered, stroking her hair. “You’re going to do great. I’m so excited to hear you perform. You’re going to be the best part of that open mic night, and deep down, you know it.”

“No, you’re only saying that because you’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m saying that because it’s true. I know you’re scared. Trust me, I’m always scared before I go up onstage.” Pari looked up at her, eyes red, and Kariah smiled softly. “It’s true. The pre-show jitters exist. But once you’re up there, and you get started, it’s going to be fine.” Kariah let Pari go and then stood up, bringing her up with her. “Come on. Let’s do some warm ups.”

“In the cafe bathroom?”

“In the cafe bathroom.”

Pari wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. Kariah gave her one last hug and then twirled her around. “Follow what I do, and the pre-show jitters will be gone.”

She led her through some tongue twisters, some energy warm ups, and some stretches. By the time they were done, there were two shows left. As Kariah began to do Pari’s makeup, she looked into her eyes.

“When you get up on that stage,” Kariah said, “imagine you’re in the music practice room. Think of the song that you’re singing, and how it resonates with you. Feel the music, feel the moment, sing your heart out.”

Pari nodded, a soft smile escaping her lips, feeling much better. “Thank you.”

_________________________________________

“Ugh! I, like, love the arts, but I came here to see Pari! When does Pari get to go?” Faith flipped through her program and huffed.

“She’s next, dumbass,” Christine pointed at the program. “That was 11. Pari’s 12th.”

“I’m so excited!” Marisol exclaimed, leaning forward to rest her head on Todd’s. “Todd! Are you ready to see your sister perform?!”

Todd nodded, leaning his head back to look at Marisol. “You know it, babe.”

Kariah was sitting front and center, staring at the stage in anticipation. She was wondering how Pari was doing while she was back there waiting to go. It had only been one performance, but Kariah felt like it had been so long, and she was ready to see her girlfriend shine in the spotlight.

Then, moments later, Pari came out.

Since Kariah did her makeup, she knew how pretty Pari looked, but something about the cozy lighting in the restaurant made her look gorgeous and elegant. Her skirt flowed behind her slightly, and her hair was neatly tied into a bun on her head. Kariah was in awe of how gorgeous her girlfriend was, and the more she looked at her, the more excited she was to see Pari perform.

As they were sound-checking Pari, Faith leaned forward and tapped on Kariah’s shoulder. Kariah turned around. “Hm?”

“You did her makeup, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you did, like, amazing. Pari looks really pretty right now.” That made Kariah smile. Faith, the expert of fashion and makeup in the friend group, gave her a makeup compliment. That made her feel special.

“Test, test.”

The crowd began to quiet down. Kariah looked up at her girlfriend, so excited. She was sensing the nervousness coming back to her by the way she was tensed up onstage and by the look in her eyes. Pari looked out at Kariah, who smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Hi, I’m Pari Shepard, and I’m going to be performing one of my favorite songs. It’s called ‘The Cave.’ I hope you enjoy it.”

Pari took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and Kariah began to smile wider than she had in a while.

And then, she began to play.

As Pari’s fingers moved along the strings of the guitar, Kariah could see the nerves and the tenseness in Pari completely vanish. In fact, as she began to play, she noticed a small smile creeping onto her face. And the music itself was gorgeous. Kariah was expecting her to go up there and play some chords and sing along, but Pari played lots of little, intricate notes that formed a beautiful melody. Kariah was gazing at her, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She was so proud.

And Pari’s voice! Her Polish accent just barely shone through, making her voice sound gorgeously unique. Though her voice was soft, it was still clear, and it filled the room. Everything about Pari was ethereal. Kariah took a quick glance at Todd next to her, who had a look of pure pride on his face.

“I’m so proud of her…” he muttered. Kariah smiled wide and listened as Pari sang.

“But I will hold on hope

And I won’t let you choke

On the noose around your neck

And I’ll find strength in pain

And I will change my ways

I’ll know my name as it’s called again…”

Kariah could tell that the lyrics really meant a lot to Pari; the idea of overcoming struggles and finding strength in hard times. She didn’t want the singing to end. She was lost in Pari’s beauty, her talent, and honestly, just everything about her. The way her eyes sparkled as she sang something meaningful. The way her fingers strummed the guitar. The way she rested the guitar on her knee as she played. The way she smiled as she sang. The way it was so clear that Pari was up on that stage doing something she loved.

God, Kariah was so in love with her.

When Pari was done singing, she looked out into the audience, tears filling her eyes as she smiled. “Thank you.”

The room filled with applause. Kariah stood up, screaming, “Go Pari! You did it, honey! I love you so much!!”

Pari walked off the stage, her eyes watering and her body trembling. The adrenaline must have rushed when she went up there, and now that she was done, it was fading out.

“Pari! Oh my gosh!” Marisol was bouncing up and down. “You did so good!”

She smiled at Marisol’s compliment, and she set her guitar against a chair. “Thanks, Mari.”

Kariah took a step forward, taking Pari’s hands. “You, my Pari, were amazing up there. I’m so, so proud of you. I love you more than anything.”

“Thanks, babe. I love you too.”

Pari leaned forward and gave Kariah a tight hug, and Kariah kissed the top of her head, taking a moment to wipe the tears off of her girlfriend’s face. Those tears were likely a mix of emotions from the song and emotions from getting through that performance. They made Kariah begin to tear up as well.

Kariah felt Todd’s arms around both of them, and then Marisol joined. Tristan came up behind Todd and put his hand on Pari’s shoulder, hugging her too. Faith stepped forward and tried to drag Christine along, but Christine wouldn’t budge, so she joined the hug on both of their behalfs.

The group hug made Pari feel seen. Happy.

Loved.

Like she was lovable.

“Thank you guys for coming…” Pari said between tears, “and thank you for this. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys supporting me.”

“Wanna stay and get food?” Tristan exclaimed as the hug dispersed. “It’s on me!”

Everyone cheered and nodded, and as Pari was walking, Christine tapped her on the shoulder. She held out her hand, which Pari took, and they shook hands.

“I knew you had it in the bag, Par. Nice job.”

Pari grinned and nodded. “Thanks, Christine.”

Todd stepped forward and squeezed Pari. “You really did. You put yourself out there, and I didn’t know you could sing OR play like that! What other secrets are you keeping from me?”

A soft chuckle escaped Pari’s lips. “None. Thank you, Todd.”

She went and rejoined the rest of the group, sitting next to Kariah and leaning over on her shoulder. Being on that stage sent a new wave of confidence through her, and lit a fire in her that maybe, just maybe, going on a stage and singing with her guitar was going to be a new passion of hers.

Kariah looked down and brushed Pari’s bangs out of her face. “I really am proud of you.”

Pari smiled and looked down. “Thanks. For once, I’m proud of me, too.”

[sugakoni]

sunflower. (keiji shinogi x fem!oc)

being forced to go to a flower shop by his therapist wasn't something keiji thought would happen, but he would be damned if he didn't say that it was the best thing to ever happen to him. meeting the personified equivalent of sunshine and sweetness, he regrets not trying to find her sooner.

-------

warnings for this chapter: halucinations, agoraphobia, therapy session oops because keiji is traumatized, small mentions of the death game but wont really delve in till later in the series. also, no one died. i cant handle that shi.

wc: 3408 | archive of our own

(a/n) hey yall.. so i am writing again, woot woot! i am really digging your turn to die and hazbin hotel right now, but as of lately yttd has been consuming every single bit of my writing brain TuT. This is an oc fic, sorry about that yall but Yuzu is my baby and I hope you all grow to like her as much as Keiji does in this fic lmao. This is chapter one, and as more chapters go out, there will be edits on this post. as always, thank you for your support for the last 3 years and im glad to be back <3

(chapter under the cut!)

It wasn't like Keiji to leave his apartment much. Sure, he would go out if the others begged him to. He would go to his therapy appointments, but soon go home to try to find his own form of solace while his thoughts slowly but surely consumed him. He wasn't alone by any means most of the time, a red, painstakingly familiar man would always appear in the corner of his eyes. It got better though, medication, therapy… but that sense of self loathing for what he had done, what he could've done differently, always loomed over him like an unwanted cloud on a day you really want the sun to shine.

But, alas, today was not one of those days. Keiji Shinogi, at his therapy appointment that day, had mentioned that there was a new flower shop that had opened near his apartment that offered painting lessons. He was intrigued by it, to say the least, that a flower shop would be offering something like that. His therapist just chuckled, saying that maybe it was his subconscious telling him to go out and try something new. 

And now…

He was standing outside of this tiny flower shop, his anxiety clawing at him as if he was doing something either incredibly stupid or incredibly wrong. He sighed, moving to rub the back of his neck before he opened the door to the shop. It was empty… well, except for the vibrant colors of flowers displayed on multiple tables in the front room. Sunflowers seemed to be the main display for the day, and the sunlight captured them beautifully.

“... Helloooo?” Keiji hummed out quietly, hoping he didn't just intrude if the flower shop wasn't opened at all and he was making it up in his head. After a few seconds of his mind trying to pry him away, a short woman who looked awfully familiar to someone he was close to stepped out from the back.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, heart racing a bit as he took her in for a second. Why was he feeling like this? Why were his ears feeling hot? Hands clammy? Keiji wanted to leave, but he stayed glued to his spot. And that is when she smiled and his own brain lit up.

“Oh, hello! Welcome to Kirigami’s, your local… uh… flower shop?” she said kind of confusingly, moving to play with a strand of her wavy hair. “S-sorry… you're the first customer of the day…”

Keiji blinked, hands going to his hips for a moment as he stood in thought. “Uh, thank you?”

The girl's face immediately went into a pout, biting at her lip and that face looked so familiar. Keiji was near losing his mind. 

“My name is Yuzu! Don't be a stranger, you can move from your spot you know!” Yuzu teased quietly, beckoning him to actually take another wide step into the shop and he happily obliged. Sweet. Too sweet. Why was he over analyzing a girl who ran a flower shop?

“What brings a man like you into a place like this?” She then added, her hands going to grab a pair of scissors while she tidied up some dead leaves on some of her plants. Keiji pursed his lips together.

“Jus’ wanted to see what ya had, I guess,” Keiji explained, a small smile creeping up on his face. God, she was cute.

Yuzu hummed to herself, smiling wide again as she turned to look at Keiji. “Trying to look for some flowers for the miss’s? Any kind in particular?” She asked, her smile faltering a bit as she said the word miss’s. Keiji noticed the change in her demeanor but didn't press it.

“Ah, unfortunately no miss’s for me… just have a certain liking towards… uncharacteristic things?” Keiji spoke and Yuzu gave another giggle, placing her scissors down and moving to take the apron she had off. Keiji watched as she moved to straighten her headband, his arms now crossing in front of him.

“No miss’s? You look like quite the catch! And, ‘uncharacteristic’... pfft,” she joked, her chest now slightly puffed up as she felt the need to be more professional. Sometimes Keiji wished he didn't join the police force so he could see people just as normal people.

“Anyway, I told ya my name, what's yours?”

Keiji’s eyes widened a bit, feeling bad now that he didn't even introduce himself to her when she did to him. “Sorry about that. My name is Keiji Shinogi… Local forensic specialist,” Keiji hummed out and Yuzu gave another smile. Was she always this cheery?

“Last name, huh? Guess it's only fair I tell ya mine. Tazuna, Yuzu Tazuna. If that means we are on a full name basis,”-Keiji desperately wanted to be on a first name, even a nickname basis- “Sorta professional for a flower shop, huh?”

Keiji snapped out of his thoughts for a moment when she said Tazuna. Now that is why she is familiar. Possibly an older sibling to Joe, who… he unfortunately met in the death games that still lingered in his mind. He wondered how Joe was doing now, especially since it had been about two years since he had seen most of the people from the game, minus Reko, Nao, and Gin.

“Hello? Earth to Keiji Shinogi?” Yuzu asked with a giggle and a hand wave, and Keiji let his eyes shift into focus and look at her. Yellow suited her.

“Sorry, just got lost in thought… ya have the same last name as someone I know, wasn't expecting that to be completely honest…”

“Ohh! You probably know Joe, I'm assuming?” Yuzu asked, her smile faltering a bit. “Or my dad? Did you even work with my dad? Surely not, you look very young! Oh, sorry, I'm rambling.”

Keiji’s heart tensed a bit, letting out a sigh afterwards as his eyes went back to the sunflower that was beside her. Yuzu hummed to herself.

“No, it's Joe that rang a bell… haven't seen him in years… hopefully he is doing well?”

“He's doing great! He got into a good college, and he has the sweetest boyfriend!” Yuzu chirped and Keiji gave a nod. Boyfriend, huh? Joe never pegged him as the type…

Keiji watched silently as Yuzu began to move around her shop, just idly looking here and there at spots on her flowers. He bit at the inside of his cheek, seeing the looming figure again that he desperately didn't want to see. It was standing right beside her though, and he couldn't help it.

“What brings you here though, Keij? Just pokin’ around?” Yuzu broke the silence, and he snapped out of the hallucination just like that. Her voice was calming, like she genuinely cared. And that was enough to break that bit of fear he had.

“Yep, ya caught me. I live right down the street, saw ya all working on getting this set up. Just wanted to see what was up,” Keiji lied, not really wanting to admit that his therapist put this shop as one of his to-do lists for his bit of agoraphobia he had after everything he had been through.

And God, he was thankful they did.

“Well! I sure do love the company!” She gleamed. Keiji gulped, he sincerely felt out of place like this. But a thought soon came to his mind.

The people who were in the death game were all planning on some sort of meet up that night. Mostly, that was one reason why his therapist wanted him to step out of his comfort zone before the meet up, so his agoraphobia didn't act up so much while he was supposed to be having a relaxing time with people who all knew and had dealt with the trauma he had just the same. Since Yuzu and Joe were siblings, surely it would be fine to ask her if she would like to come over-

“Since you and Joe are related, I’m assuming that you wouldn't mind if I asked ya to hang out with us and our friends?” Keiji blurted out, immediately facepalming mentally afterwards. Yuzu blushed, playing with her fingers for a moment as she considered.

“I'd love that… typically strangers don't ask me to go do things immediately, but, if Joe knows you he must trust you, right?” Yuzu asked, Keiji giving a small nod in agreement. “Well, alright! Here,” she moved to write down her number on a sticky note from the front counter. “Just text me the details, and I'll head over there after I get done here!”

Keiji moved to grab the sticky note offered, and his fingers brushed slightly against her’s. His facade was almost breaking, and he chuckled at the bright flash of red that overtook the sweet girl in front of him’s face.

“Okie-dokie. I'll text ya the info once I get back to my apartment… hope to see you there, Tazuna~” He cooed lightly and Yuzu rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Wouldn't miss it for the world, Shinogi.”

—------

Yuzu was excited, truly, to be going out and meeting new people. Especially Joe’s friends, and she trusted the people Joe had connections with. They always seemed to be down to earth, and Yuzu enjoyed that about them. After meeting Shin, albeit she met her brother’s boyfriend at a… stupidly inconvenient time, she enjoyed his company and was glad to have him in her life as well.

She tided up what she needed to at the shop, always having an extra change of clothes just in case dirt, water, or paint had gotten onto her during the day, and changed into them. Contrary to what she normally wore, it was a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, still wearing her sneakers that she had on during the work day.

Her phone was now in her hand, rereading the text that Keiji had sent her about an hour prior to her shop closing. She blushed, rolling her eyes again as she read it.

‘Here’s the address. Hope to see you there, sunshine.’

Yuzu couldn't help but admit that Keiji was an attractive man. He was alluring, and his personality seemed a bit closed off. She wondered what was under that exterior… she wondered how his hands felt, how soft his hair was. She had only met him today! She had no idea why these thoughts loomed.

You like someone again, huh, Tazuna? 

That annoying voice was ringing in her head again, and she felt her heart start to race. She glanced up from her phone, being met with the blood stained silhouette of her best friend. 

I wonder what he would think if he knew what you did to me.

You don't deserve happiness.

You got me killed, remember?

Do you think someone like you deserves that?

“Please… Himadi… leave,” Yuzu gasped out, squeezing her eyes shut and moving to run a hand through her hair. When she opened her eyes again, tears fell but her surroundings were normal. No Himadi in sight.

“Anyway…” she muttered to herself, sending Keiji a text that she was on her way and moving to leave and lock up her shop. Yuzu began her walk towards the apartment number that Keiji had sent her, hoping that it was his apartment number, since it was so close.

After a ten minute walk, she finally stood at the door to the apartment she was sent the address to. A few cars were parked on the curb in front, assuming that everyone was already there. Yuzu knocked gently on the door, her little body shaking as she felt her anxiety creep up.

A few seconds went by and the door was opened, but she was met with no one. She then glanced down, being met with a boy who was donning a cat like outfit. Her heart swelled.

“Myaaa, Joe’s sister?!” The kid exclaimed, his eyes widening a bit. Yuzu raised an eyebrow. “Gin, what?!” The familiar voice of Joe rang, and soon she was met with her brother standing at the door.

“Yuzu! Holy moly, what are you doing here?”

“I invited her,” Keiji’s voice rang from behind them. Joe snapped his head back momentarily, before looking back at Yuzu with a soft face. 

“Can I come in…? It's kinda chilly out here, ya know…” 

“Oh! Yeah, sorry sis,” Joe spoke and moved Gin out of the way, opening the door more for Yuzu. 

She thanked him quietly, moving to walk into the threshold of the apartment and being met with a few familiar faces, and a few unfamiliar. Yuzu bit at her lip.

“For those of you who don't know, this is my sister Yuzu. Yuzu, meet Reko, Nao, Qtaro, Kai, Gin, Kanna, and Mishima,” Joe rambled, pointing at everyone respectively as he introduced them. Gin was looking up at Yuzu, his eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“Joe-Joe, your sister is very short, meow! Must be a family thing, woof!”

Yuzu giggled while Joe moved to nuzzle Gin’s head, causing the kid to groan in distaste as his hair was messed up. She continued to giggle quietly, her hand gripping at the strap of her purse. She still felt out of place, even with the calm atmosphere that surrounded her. 

“C’mon,” Keiji hummed out, patting a spot beside him on the couch. Yuzu blinked, glancing over at him and feeling her face begin to heat up. She obliged, however, moving to sit down beside Keiji and placing her purse down at her feet. The group talked amongst each other, which Yuzu began to drone out as she looked at a small, obviously fake plant on the coffee table in front of her. Gin began to inch closer to the girl, sitting in front of her criss crossed and his green eyes looking up. 

“Meow, are you Keiji’s girlfriend?” He asked, Yuzu’s eyes widening. Keiji coughed harshly, choking a bit on the water he had in his mouth as Gin’s eyebrow perked up.

“No, no! I mean, haha.. Uh… I met him today actually, at my flower shop…” Yuzu replied, and Gin’s eyebrow was still raised in suspicion. Yuzu’s back felt rigid, sitting up straight as she adverted her gaze from the small boy in front of her. “Why is your face red then, woof?”

Yuzu chuckled hesitantly, moving to fiddle with her fingers as she felt a hand placed on the small of her back. She kept her face from making any expression, but the heat lingered. She glanced, realizing Keiji had put his hand there, and her mind started to go a million miles an hour.

Why are his hands so big? Why is he so big? How is he this nice? Is he trying to comfort me? Kids ask stupid shit all the time! Shouldn’t be a big deal, right? 

“Calm down,” Keiji whispered, Gin’s attention span already receding as he moved to go towards Joe and Sara, sitting down in the red haired girl’s lap and practically stretching out like a cat. Yuzu moved to look at Keiji, who had a smug grin on his face, causing her to slap his shoulder.

“You thought that was funny, huh? Jerk,” she mumbled, his fingers now moving gently against her back.

“You’re just so darn cute.”

Yuzu rolled her eyes, moving her hands to her cheeks to cover up the obvious blush that had made its way to her skin. Keiji chuckled, leaning back into the couch once more and his hand leaving the small of her back. Was it weird that she wanted it to stay? She was a mess, for a man she had just met, and it was not something she was used to. Feelings weren’t something she was used to.

Keiji admired how he could make Yuzu feel, validating his own feelings in the process. This girl was someone that he wanted to make his, no doubt about it. There was no anxiety in the thought either, just the want for the woman that sat so close to him on the couch. Watching as her delicate hands played with each other, how her face scrunched up in a laugh as she listened to jokes from others in the group. It made his heart swell in a way he hadn’t felt in a while, and if he didn’t believe in love at first sight, he would be damned to ignore the obvious signs that this was.

Q-Taro was currently ranting about something that happened in a baseball match of his, his southern accent booming in the tiny space of Keiji’s apartment while everyone laughed and snickered at his theatrics. Keiji watched as Yuzu began to feel comfortable, glancing as she leaned back on the couch and scooted closer to Keiji involuntarily. His hand went to cover the lower half of his face, elbow on the arm rest of the couch as his gaze adverted. So small. So cute. 

Yuzu’s hands were now on her lap, not picking at her skin as she usually did when she was in an unfamiliar environment. Her shoes were kicked off, knees pulled up to her chest as another giggle left her at Q-Taro getting told off by Kai for being too egotistical about a game of baseball. She felt content, even with not having known anyone, she felt at home. At ease, more or less.

The night soon drew to a close, Joe and Shin calling it a night before anyone else did due to the fact Kanna ended up passing out with her head on Kai’s lap. Gin let out a big yawn, which signalled Sara that it was about time for them to leave as well. Yuzu’s eyes felt a bit droopy, and she moved to get up about 15 minutes after the other 5 had left.

“Thank you for inviting me over, Keiji, truly. I enjoyed meeting your friends, and seeing Joe,” she hummed, tiredness lingering in her voice. Keiji glanced up at her, a small smile on his face as he watched Yuzu rub her sleepy eyes. “No worries, Yuzu. They seemed to like you a lot, sunshine.”

Yuzu’s face grew a bit red at the throw of the nickname again, and Keiji wondered if that was how she reacted to the text message. She yawned herself, saying goodbye to the other two who were now sitting on the floor across from the couch, Q-Taro and Kai already out the door. Reko and Nao said their goodbyes, telling her not to be a stranger, and with that, Yuzu made her way home.

“Keeeeeijiiiii,” Nao’s voice rang teasingly, and Keiji’s eyes went to the girl with pink fluffy hair. 

“What’s up?”

“You liiiike her,” she teased again, and Keiji rolled his eyes. There it was. That anxious feeling that he knew would come and bite him in the ass. He felt his ears become hot, eyes now adverting the gaze of the two who were being relentless about his crush on the girl who walked in. His own personal sunflower.

“Keij, ya gotta let yourself loosen up a little. It was nice to see you that open with someone new again,” Reko patted his knee respectfully, moving to get up and helping Nao up right afterwards. Keiji sighed out.

“It’s just… I am not the type of person she should have to deal with,” Keiji groaned, moving to run a hand through his hair. Reko let out a ‘pfft’, Nao’s face in a pout as she watched her friend start to talk down to himself.

“You’re a great guy, Keiji! We all have our own traumas, genuinely, but don’t be afraid of that! As your therapist said, you have to do things out of your comfort zone. And even then, she seems to make you feel comfortable,” Nao rambled.

“And she is really fuckin’ cute,” Reko piped up. Keiji’s eyes widened at that, and Nao let out a giggle. “Just don’t let those demons stop you from being happy, Keij. You deserve it more than anyone.” 

And with that, they were both making their way out of the house. Keiji started to recede back more into the couch, letting out a sigh as his fingers went to unbutton the top two buttons of his shirt. Hand running through his hair again, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked on Yuzu’s contact.

‘You, me… dinner on Saturday, Sunshine?’