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sistertotheknowitall · 2 months

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Don't Take Snacks From Some Guy

Masterpost

Duke knew better than to take food from strangers. Still it was nice of the other man to offer so he kept taking them.

----

Duke watched the kid type away at his laptop. He said kid but the guy was probably a few years older the him. Still, he wasn't supposed to be on the roof of a bank, Gotham National Bank to be specific. He didn't seem to be up to anything nefarious (Duke didn't think you needed to be on the bank to hack it) but he was still on the roof a bank. A closed bank at sunrise on a Sunday.

How did he even get up there? Duke doubted that he took the stairs. Unless he worked for the bank but that didn't answer why he was on the roof.

Making a decision, Duke disappeared and made his way over. He was quiet and cautious as he went to look over the other teens shoulder. He was writing …a paper? From what Duke could read it was a research paper (‘in accordance to what the Daily Planet has stated about the city’s hero’ -).

“Could you not breathe in my ear?”

Duke flinched back and thankfully didn't make a sound. He was pretty sure he still invisible but tired eyes were staring at him - well, in his general direction. (Just to be sure Duke checked, and, yeah, still not visible.) For a moment they just sat still as Duke contemplated revealing himself. (The other could be bluffing but was it really bluffing if he was right?) The guy had known Duke was there and seemed able to at least sense his general position. He seemed annoyed but not violent. It was also clear that he definitely was not committing cyber crime unless the paper was code. (Could it be code?)

Continuing with caution Duke made himself visible and shifted awkwardly, “um, hi, I’m Signal -”

The other boy had turned back to his computer, appearing to read over what he had written. “You were almost pressed against me, dude.”

Duke blushed, a little embarrassed, “right, sorry, I was just trying to see what you were doing.”

“I'm Danny and I was not hacking the bank, I promise.”

“Okay?”

Duke continued to watch Danny as he finished reading and closed the laptop. Standing Danny stretched and started putting the computer away. Duke had winced at the popping of his spine. “So what are you doing up here?”

Shouldering his bag Danny told him, “writing about the sociological impact of superheroes vs vigilantes, or do you not know how to read?”

Duke contemplated still arresting the man. He could still get him for loitering or trespassing or something. “No, I got that - “

“Did you?”

Ignoring the snippy remark Duke continued and asked “why are you writing on top of the bank? How did you even get up here?”

“The public library’s wifi is awful and this bank has a public password.”

Duke blinked, “you're up here at sunrise for the wifi?”

“Yeah.”

"…….."

“So… think you could help me get down?”

----

Once back on solid ground Danny had held out a chocolate bar. Duke stared in confusion before realizing it was an offering, “oh thanks, but -” Danny sighed, grabbed Duke's wrist and forced the candy into his hand. Letting go, Danny had patted the vigilante on the shoulder, muttered his thanks and walked off.

Duke watched him go around the corner before considering the chocolate. While the guy hadn't been anything other than a little snarky and rude, Duke wasn't going to eat something a stranger gave him. Even if you didn't grow up in Gotham, accepting food from strangers was not wise. Duke knew this.

So he had taken the candy bar back to the cave for analysis.

Upon their seconf meeting nearly a week later Danny had been a lot more cheerful and had apologized to Duke for being grumpy. He then handed him a banana and left. Duke continued to run into Danny on roof tops, fire escapes, and once outside the entrance to a cemetery and while he wasn’t always in a talkative mood when they met (sometimes he would just walk by Duke, shoving food into his hands as he passed) he was always sure to give him something. Duke didn't know what to make of this but he was understandably careful. The banana had been tested like the chocolate, so had the fruit snacks, the granola bar, and the apple. All came back clean.

It was a few days after the apple was cleared that the bats had come to the conclusion that Danny was not a threat. So when Duke was handed a donut on a stressful Tuesday, he ate it gratefully. Danny had seemed pleased that Duke continued to take the treats and Steph was always happy to eat what Duke didn’t.

Post 5

#I dont think I write dialogue well #anyway #here's this #batman #batfamily #danny phantom #dcxdp #dc x dp #danny is just some guy #dp x dc #dp crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc

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franklysainz · 2 months

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LOST IN THE PADDOCK.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.

cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.

masterlist | taglist

—

"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.

You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.

You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.

After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her.

Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.

The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.

The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.

"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.

He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."

You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.

You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.

"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.

"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"

You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.

Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?"

"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"

You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"

He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."

"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.

"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.

"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.

"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"

Oh, shit.

It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.

"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.

He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?

"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.

"I told you I'm not good at this!"

You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over.

"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.

You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.

—

"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!"

Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."

It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."

"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.

Max shrugs. "I don't know."

"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.

Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.

Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.

—

"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.

You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers.

"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.

"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."

"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.

"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.

"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."

"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"

"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."

"Well, he's not wrong."

You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.

It's no surprise—in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.

You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.

You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.

"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.

Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—

"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.

"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"He's the guy from earlier."

"What?!"

—

yourusername

liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.

tagged amaraiscool

yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.

view all comments

amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen

> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost

amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.

> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))

yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!

liked by yourusername

yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol

> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)

> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.

—

"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.

She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.

"Text who?" You already know who.

"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.

Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you.

"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."

She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!"

"No."

"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.

"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."

"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."

"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.

"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.

"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.

She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."

There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!"

What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing.

Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.

"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"

"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."

Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."

You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.

"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!"

"Shut up."

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rainyinautumn · 1 year

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Did someone say COMPLETE DATA ANALYSIS OF ALL THE DEATHS IN THE LIFE SERIES? No? Well. I did it. Here are some neat graphs for you guys to look at so that you don’t have to deal with the gigantic spreadsheet I did!

Let’s start off with the big bad question: what gets people killed in this game, anyway?

Note that a CAUSE OF DEATH is not the same as a KILL. Cause of death is what pops up in the chat when someone dies (ex. PearlescentMoon was slain by Smallishbeans, BdoubleO100 fell from a high place). The cause of death does not always account for player responsibility (ex. TNT traps). Generally, a player is only considered to be someone’s cause of death if the death occurs through direct PvP combat. HOWEVER, responsibility for an indirect kill such as a trap still goes toward a player’s total kill count—for example, Joel has 14 kills overall, 10 of which are direct enough for him to be considered the actual cause of death. After all, axes don’t kill people without being swung by someone.

A few other whacky things about kill counts:

Self-inflicted deaths do not count toward a player’s kill count (ex. Grian doesn’t get a kill for jumping off Monopoly Mountain at the end of 3rd Life, Scott doesn’t get a kill for blowing himself up at the end of Double Life).

When it comes to Double Life, soulmates are considered to share their three lives. No distinction is made between Soulmate A's life and Soulmate B's life, and each death only counts as one kill (ex. Joel gets one kill for killing Scott with fireworks, even though that also killed Pearl (however, Pearl’s cause of death is still Joel, as her life is considered the same as Scott’s)).

Using the /kill command does not count toward your kill count. Grian.

With that cleared up, let’s look at kill counts.

By the skin of his teeth, Grian leads the pack in total kills. The top three you see on that graph are the only players who have a KDR (kill-to-death ratio) of more than 1—for you folks who are unfamiliar with those, a KDR of more than 1 means you kill other people more often than you die. Less than 1 means you die more often than you kill other people. Here are the highest and lowest KDRs in the series:

“What’s this?” I hear you say. “Jimmy Wet-Paper-Bag-of-a-Man Solidarity DOESN’T have the lowest KDR in the series?”

No. No, he does not, and it’s actually really funny you should ask.

Because of Last Life’s mechanic of life transferring, even players that have been in all three installments of the Life Series don’t have the same death count. Eight players died more than three times in Last Life. Another eight died exactly three times. And one player only died twice.

By virtue of starting on yellow and never receiving any extra lives in Last Life, Jimmy holds the record for fewest deaths in an installment of the Life Series with just two deaths in Last Life. He is the only player to ever die less than three times in a game. This means that although he has just one kill, he has fewer total deaths than BigB (who has died a very standard nine times), the only other player with one kill, so his KDR is higher. Congrats, Jimmy, you’re not last in everything. But you are still the only player without a PvP kill.

Speaking of PvP, it’s time to look at how people do that! Here’s a graph of the top five weapons that tend to land PvP kills the most in the series:

And now here’s weapon preferences by game:

[Double Life not depicted due to lack of PvP deaths—only 4 occurred, using a diamond axe, a diamond sword, fireworks, and an iron axe respectively.]

Despite 19 more deaths occurring in Last Life than 3rd Life, the two actually have the exact same amount of PvP kills (28). It’s interesting to note the strong preference for bows in 3rd Life, which was a much more warlike game and had several fairly formal battles where people fought from a distance. Last Life required an overall sneakier strategy, resulting in a higher use of traps. In combat, non-ranged weapons like swords and axes were generally preferred due to fights often starting in close proximity and without warning, courtesy of the Boogeyman curse. Comparatively, Double Life saw remarkably few PvP kills, likely due to each person being twice as accident-prone by virtue of being linked to another player—in fact, with a total of 12, accidents accounted for three times as many deaths as PvP in Double Life and overall for more than half (57%) of the deaths in the game.

As for individual player stats sheets, here’s an example of one of those:

If you want to see one of those for ALL 17 PLAYERS, you can go to this slideshow! More details about the stats can be found in the presentation notes of each slide. And, if you have a really specific question and want to get into the nitty gritty, feel free to send me an ask! Hope you guys enjoyed the data!

#moral of the story: stay away from high places #and Joel and Ren #and always assume Grian is up to something #life series #3rd life #last life #double life #overrainylyzed #I don't think I've ever analyzed something harder before in my life honestly #relevant rainy things

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cerisereids · 10 days

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𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗼𝘀- 𝘀.𝗿. [𝗽𝘁. 𝟭]

pairing- spencer reid x fem!reader

wc- 3.5k

summary- you meet spencer reid while he's in your hometown on a case. you share one day before he has to leave. what happens when you can't stop thinking about each other?

warnings- sfw, reader is referenced as a woman, canon typical case discussion/emotions, fluff to angst, no happy ending (for now...) takes place in massachusetts for this first part, lmk if i missed any!

a/n- so. i ended up making this multiple parts. it's just too long. here is part 1 enjoy 😚

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The soothing sun of an east coast spring morning bathes your skin in warmth, releasing some tension you have carried in your muscles since you first arrived at your desk this morning. The wind rustles through the trees, the idyllic scenery around you in motion with the breeze. The plants in the rose garden, the leaves and petals swirling around, they all follow the gusts in time, and you wish your morning was so easy. Your eyes fall shut, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks as you recall that initial feeling of dread, the way it seeped through your bones when you arrived to work, met with a ransom note left on your desk. One million dollars. That’s how much the sender was demanding. One million for the safe return of Charles Anderson, local politician, diplomat, and the man who owns and funds the very library you manage.

At first, you were convinced it was a prank, refusing to let in the pure panic pounding at your heart until you were certain something was very wrong. Asking for $1,000,000 from a local library almost seemed like a joke to you at first, like a teenager made it up to spook you. It wouldn’t be the first time. You took the note to your boss’ office, eyes widening, panic in full force once you saw the state it was in. Papers everywhere, desk drawers flung open haphazardly, and an open window. Your heart nearly stopped as you raced back to your desk to dial 911.

Your eyes flutter open, back to reality as the tires of a black SUV screech against the library’s parking lot, coming to a halt right before you. You instinctively back away as a group of polished professionals exit the car, guns and badges strapped to their clothes. Your fingers find the pendant of your necklace, nervously fiddling with the small pearl resting on your chest. You greet the man in the suit, who introduces himself as Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. You walk the group of concerned faces over to your desk, where the note was originally found. They bag all evidence, and soon you’re left with only two agents. One is a kind woman with black hair who introduces herself as Emily, and the other is, quite literally, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life. His brows furrow and his big brown eyes bore widely into yours, checking for any and all signs of distress as he shakes your hand, introducing himself as Spencer.

His hand lingers, his warm palm resting in yours for the briefest moment. A jolt of electricity shoots through your veins all the same. You yank your hand back, not out of disdain, but because of the unfamiliar comfort of his touch. You hardly know this man, only so much as his name, but the mere touch of his calloused palm floods you with warmth, with comfort, as if you’ve known him your whole life. It scared you, but the reassurance in his eyes now puts you at ease. He knows. He feels it, too, you can tell.

Emily can tell, too, apparently. She clears her throat, effectively popping the golden, glittery bubble that surrounded you and Spencer in that moment. Her eyes flit between the two of you and your cheeks burn, you avert your eyes until the embarrassment passes. You suppose this is what it must be like being surrounded by profilers all day, your thoughts and feelings constantly on display. If it were a certain profiler, though, you’re not sure you’d mind so much.

“Ooookay…” Emily trails off, accusation lacing her tone, “I’m going to take a look in Anderson’s office, there could be something there that'll help us find him. Reid, you’re gonna stay here with this lovely lady until we get the all clear,” she nods towards him. Spencer Reid. You replay his full name in your head on a loop, it’s pretty, like him.

His head snaps up toward his coworker, brows furrowed as he stutters, “b-but I thought Hotch wanted me to-”

“Stay with her? While I go investigate? Yes, he did,” Emily finished for him, eyes boring into his in an attempt to send an unspoken message.

You’re no profiler, but now it’s your turn to flit your eyes between the two people before you, deciphering the unspoken words between them. From the blush creeping up the apples of Spencer’s cheeks and Emily’s knowing glare, it’s safe for you to assume she’s throwing him a bone here. Thank God for that.

As she turns to walk away, a lightbulb goes off over your head, “b-but-” you stop Emily as she walks away, and she whips around with an inquisitive look on her face, “is it safe to stay open? I mean, they broke in here and took Charlie-uhm-Mr. Anderson- and I don’t want our patrons to be in danger.”

“That’s an excellent question, Miss,” Emily responds, and the calming tone of her voice puts you at ease, “from what they’ve found at the station, the threat appears to be towards Anderson personally, not any of the institutions he owns. We’d like to keep it open so as to not cause public suspicion, the attention could make whoever’s taken him panic and kill. If anything happens, we’re here, and we have emergency teams on standby.” You nod, fingers once again anxiously fiddling with your pearl as Emily heads into Charlie’s office.

The first few minutes after Emily leaves you two alone is painfully awkward. The two of you stand still at your desk for a beat, both sets of eyes avoiding the other as much as possible while a thick silence settles between you.

“Uhm-” Spencer’s voice cracks as he attempts to use it, he clears his throat before continuing, “you can-you can keep doing what you normally do. I’ll just be here to protect you.”

Your eyes drift to his biceps, which are unfairly toned for such a lanky guy. You wonder how the cotton of his shirt would strain against them while he wrapped his arms around you, protecting you from whoever left the note on your desk this morning. The chaos of this morning would at least be worth something if it leads you there.

“What, like a security guard? I thought you were supposed to be some FBI hotshot,” you flirtatiously test the waters, teasing him gently. Your sparkling eyes now scan back up his neck, to his lips, then back up to his own eyes, and the contact makes you nearly dizzy.

“Oh! Well no-no not necessarily a security guard. Security guards became more popularized in the 1840s when a man named Allan Pinkerton founded the Pinkerton National Detective Agency, which is now one of the largest private security companies in this country, actually! Their primary focus is on protecting institutions and artifacts,” he fidgets with his fingers as he rambles, and your heart grows three sizes.

“Bodyguards, on the other hand, originated over 2,000 years ago during the reign of the Roman Empire. They protected royalty and leaders, so a bodyguard would be a more accurate description.” He finished his thoughts by clasping his hands together, interlacing his fidgeting fingers, while a flat smile appeared on his mouth. He looks almost guilty, like he’s said too much and is afraid you’ll laugh or tell him to shut up.

Luckily for him, though, he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, so you smile and say, “that's really interesting, Spencer, I had no idea," you see him relax a bit at your validation, so you keep going.

"You said bodyguards protect royalty?" it's nearly breathtaking how enthusiastically he nods, his soft hair moving with him, "so I can be, like, your queen for the day, hm?” you raise a brow at him as you fiddle with the end of his tie, and his face is nearly red as a tomato by this point.

“Yes!” he nearly jumps out of his own skin at the contact, and you nearly melt from how endearing it all is, “well, your safety is incredibly important so maybe you can just pick up from where you left off before we got here,” his voice picks up in speed and your heart could burst at the fact that you’ve worked him up this much while doing so little, “you can pretend like I’m not even here, I’ll just be sure you’re safe, while the rest of my team works to safely return Mr. Anderson,” he slows down a bit towards the end, taking a breath and giving you a smile, a real one this time.

You return it, “thank you, Dr. Reid. You being here has already helped more than you know,” he finally initiates eye contact himself this time, his head snapping up automatically, before he could decide not to.

“Go-good,” he clears his throat once more, “I’m glad to help. That’s my job.” You exchange another set of smiles and you wonder how long it will be before you just can’t take it anymore.

“Well, unfortunately, though, there is nowhere for me to pick up on, because the first thing I did when I got here was call you guys,” your smile only widens as he shakes his head, cheeks tinting once more, “oh-no-no of course, yeah that makes sense.”

“Lucky for you, though,” you poke at his chest gently, “it seems as if my first task of the day is restocking the nonfiction section, let’s go!” you chirp as you march along, rolling the cart full of returned books.

“Why is that lucky for me?” he trips over a cord in his attempt to catch up with you, and you giggle, reaching out a hand for him on instinct. To your surprise, he links his pinky with yours.

“For someone who knows as much about security guards as you do, I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you like nonfiction,” you say while you swing your arms back and forth, and he mumbles in agreement.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Wait a minute, so-let me get this straight,” you stop and turn away from the bookshelf to face the tall man behind you. Over the past hour, you’ve reshelved your way to the romance section, “so you have three Ph. D.s, two B.A.s, and you’re working on your third? While working for the FBI?” you push the cart further down the aisle as he walks beside you, leaning against the parallel bookshelf when you stop.

“Yep-yeah, that’s-that is correct, yes. I-uh- I have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory. You were accurate in your assumption about nonfiction,” he jokes, a sweet smile on his face. His smiles have grown more confident in the past hour, the more you two exchange niceties, anecdotes. You revel in those smiles, soaking in each one like a cat laying in the sun.

“I love that, education is so important,” you remark, and his blush deepens. Whether it’s because of your compliment or the shirtless man on the cover of the pirate romance you’re reshelving, you’re not sure. All you know is that this man before you makes your heart twinge with a longing you haven't felt in years. You want to see that blush on those cheeks everyday for the rest of forever.

“Is that why you wanted to work at a library? Because education is important?” he questions. You can tell he's desperate to keep the attention off his reddening cheeks, the blush now making its way to his ears. You could die at the way the tips of them turn pink, but you choose to answer his question instead.

“My mom always told me that education sets you free. I think it’s so true, no matter how you go about seeking that education. When you know better, you do better, y’know?” you pause, and he nods like you’re the most important person in the world, “I wanted to be able to encourage that in our patrons. I think I’ve done a good job,” you smile as you think back to the successful programs you’ve run through this library: book clubs, after school science fairs, and more.

“I’m sure you have, I can tell that there is immense love and care poured into this building on a daily basis. Your passion shines through you, y’know,” Spencer dotes, and you nearly forget how to breathe. His compliments seep through your skin, making its way into your bones. You shudder. This man is something else.

“So, what made you decide that the FBI was where you wanted to use all this knowledge?” you ask as you ruffle his hair gently, eagerly drinking in yet another smile. This one’s shy, aimed at the ground. A blush he’s so desperately trying to hide creeps up to the high point of his cheekbones, despite his best efforts to conceal his flustered nature from you.

“I had a mentor, he founded the unit back in the 70s. Hand picked me from the academy,” he lets out a nostalgic chuckle at the memory, and you wish you could bottle it up like a perfume, “we were really close, he’s the only person who could beat me at chess, actually," he's looking down when you turn to face him, his foot kicks around at a stray pebble that's made its way inside from the courtyard. You can tell he's not sure if he should say more. You hope he does.

"He quit a few years back without warning, he lost someone he cared about and couldn’t take it anymore. It really wrecked me at the time, but people move on, I guess…” he trails off, sheepishly looking once again towards his Converse. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, and he's wearing that same guilty face from earlier, as if he’s afraid he’s said too much. It’s not possible, though. You want to know every detail, glimpse into every nook and cranny of this man’s peculiar life.

“I know what you mean,” you start delicately, so he knows you mean it, “Charlie-uhm- Mr. Anderson-” you corrected, “he came to speak at one of my grad school lectures, what, probably five or six years ago now?" you chuckle at the memory, unbelieving that it was already so long ago, and Spencer smiles with you. It makes you feel like the queen of the world.

"From the second he began speaking to us about this library, I fell in love with it. I spoke with him afterwards and it was an instant fit. I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to him,” the dread from this morning slowly creeps back into the pit of your stomach as you turn to Spencer with sad, wide eyes.

“My team is some of the best in the world,” Spencer reassures you, a hand resting on your shoulder that eases the erratic beat of your heart, “they are doing everything they can to find him and return him safely.”

You greedily lean into his touch, savoring the feel of his forearm against your cheek, “‘m worried about him,” you croak, eyes glossing over, “he’s older than he used to be, y’know. He’s stubborn, but he’s not so spry, especially compared to when I first started working for him. I’m scared,” you confess, tears finally spilling over your lash line.

“Come here,” Spencer whispers mainly to himself, but you pick it up. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as he envelops you in the sweetest hug known to man.

His arms fit perfectly around you as you cuddle into him, utilizing him for every last bit of comfort he’ll allow. You turn your head so your temple rests on his chest, eyes scanning over his biceps, now flexing and straining against his printed button up. You allow yourself to indulge in the tautness for just a moment, before you wrap your arms around him in return. He takes this as a sign to pull you in deeper, tighter, a large hand soothing the expanse of your back in calming circles.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispers into your temple, and you shudder at the way his breath hits your skin. You want to feel it all the time.

Once he releases you, you reluctantly return to your shelving. You thank your lucky stars that your back is facing towards him, lest you give up all your cards so quickly. Now that you’ve had that contact with him, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go without it. You can still feel the warmth of his skin as he wrapped himself around you, the softness of his forearms, the way your arms wrapped perfectly around his waist. A giddy weight sits heavy in your stomach, you’re breathless, like you’d been touched by an angel. Maybe you were.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You thank your lucky stars that Spencer was right. Later in the afternoon, his team had found Charlie in an abandoned warehouse by the bay, the men who took him are in custody, and now you’re sitting in a plastic, sticky hospital chair as the steady beeps of an EGK machine torment you from across the hallway. You pick at your nails, desperate to pass time until Charlie’s family gets here. You promised you’d stay with him, why wouldn’t you after everything he’s done for you? What you don’t understand is why Spencer has stayed behind with you.

“You don’t have to be here, y’know?” you say, even though you desperately want him to stay. You nudge his knee gently when you see a small smile form on his lips, “wouldn’t you much rather be closing out this case with your team?”

“I’d rather be anywhere you are, making sure you’re okay,” he tells you matter of factly, eyes looking directly to yours.

Those agonizing big brown eyes have plagued you all day. Every time you catch even the slightest glimpse, an overwhelming ache punctures through your heart, right in the middle. You imagine it’s what being shot with Cupid’s arrow is like. A heavy silence falls between you then. You both know what comes next. Spencer and his team close the case, and he goes home. You both turn your gazes forward, avoiding the other’s sad eyes, avoiding his departure.

A sudden clapping noise jumpstarts you back to reality, and you reluctantly turn away from Spencer to find Charlie’s wife behind you. Her hands are clasped, eyes glassy and wide. You’re frozen at the sight of her, the true gravity of what you’ve experienced settling in fully. A pit sits in your stomach like a rock at the bottom of a lake. You know you must look foolish, but your body can't move, all your energy has been usurped by the otherworldly events of your day. Your red, dry eyes meet her glassy ones, and you wish so desperately you could be of some sort of use.

Spencer thankfully takes over, patting your knee like he can read your mind as he directs Charlie’s distressed wife to the room across the hall. You sit, now alone, with your back to the wall. You feel outside yourself, like you’re floating above the hospital, not actually in it. You’re not blinking, you’re pale as a ghost.

You watch half heartedly through the glass as Spencer explains to her what’s happened. You know he’s told her he’s okay by the way she gasps, pulling him into her arms without a second chance. You feel ridiculously jealous at the sight of it.

When he exits the room to give her some privacy, that same, all knowing silence dawns upon you two again. He stops in front of you, crouching down to meet your level. You keep your gaze on your loafers tapping against the linoleum floor. Spencer takes your wrists in his hands and moves them apart, leaving you no choice but to accept your vulnerability. Your now glossy eyes reach his, and it’s like you can see the ache, the longing for what never was and never could be.

“I-” Spencer starts, but his voice croaks, so he clears his throat and continues, “I had the best time keeping you safe today. I’m really happy we were able to find your boss, I know he means a lot to you,” his voice is gentle, kind, and you want to strangle him for it. Your life has been turned upside down, irrevocably changed, and this is all he’s leaving you with? You foolishly anticipated a grand confession, for him to sweep you off your feet and vow that 90 minutes isn’t that long of a flight, that you could make it work while he’s in Quantico and you’re here. That was your mind’s fairytale, though, and this is real life.

“Goodbye, Spencer,” you whisper through an embarrassing onslaught of tears, “I hope you fly safe.”

You disassociate once more, only pulled back to reality by the feel of Spencer’s soft, chapped lips against your forehead. Then, he’s gone.

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marasmadness · 3 months

Note

Can you write BDSM dark!Jennifer Jareau x Reader who is a college student and they meet like randomly. Reader has a heart of gold and can’t see jjs dark side. And JJ js like obsessed with her.

“When you look at me like that, my darling, what did you expect?” || Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

CW: slight age gap (college sophomore reader x TA JJ), obsession, stalker behavior, smoking and drinking, possessive behavior, smoking & drinking, jealousy, smut, hair pulling, begging, degradation, she’s kind of mean ngl, ahem anyways …

"If anyone would like extra review for the final exam, JJ will be available during office hours this week to offer any assistance you might need,” your forensics teacher announced to the room, pointing to the graduate student acting as his TA for the semester. You had gotten to know her a bit and frequently spent office hours with her that started out as going over work but often drifted into gossip or other unrelated discussions. She typically wore her long blonde hair in a loose braid that fell down her back. You admired her intelligence greatly. Her ability to analyze communication and media publications, part of her specialty, was enticing to watch.

Many of the students in the class were already filtering their way out of the lecture hall, ready to crash after their last class of the day. You lingered for a moment so you could scribble down the times you could go find JJ later before eventually running out. J.J. caught your eye as you approached the door. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her lips drew up into a smile, and she curled her fingers with a wave in your direction. You waved back quickly, watching her cross her arms over her chest as you left.

On your way back to the dorms, you flipped your hand over to see the times scrawled in pen on your skin. You figured it would be nice to see her as soon as possible and wanted to make it to her first available time. That gave you enough time to race back to your room, switch out your supplies, and maybe take a breath for a few moments.

You popped into your room, sharing a brief small talk with your roommate, who was on her way out to the library, but you were back out again as fast as you were in. JJ could always be found in the office of the professor she worked under. She had held many roles under his authority and not only depended on her but trusted her as well, so at this point, a part of the workload and part of the office basically belonged to her.

When you got there, the door was only up a crack, so you knocked and tentatively peeked your head in. JJ looked up from the pile of papers she was grading at her small desk in the corner and swiped her fallen bangs out of her face. "Hey hon, came just for me?” She teased, setting aside her papers as she turned her full attention to you.

You laughed, setting your notes down and pulling up a chair across from her. Before you could sit down, she dragged the chair onto her side of the desk, patting the seat. "Here, just so I don’t have to read your notes upside down. She smiled innocently, waiting for you to take your place beside her. Once you had settled yourself, you flipped through the pages of analysis and calculations in front of you, running your finger across the blue ink as you explained yourself. JJ occasionally leaned over to stop you, correcting a small error or elaborating on a concept you didn’t entirely understand beyond the basics of it. When she did, she rested her hand on your lower back, and she leaned in close enough that you inhaled the subtle scent of her vanilla perfume. You found it harder to focus under her touch but thought little of it.

Your phone kept buzzing on the table, and you were quick to flip it over, typing out a quick response. JJ silently grew annoyed. After a few too many messages shot back and forth, her eyebrows furrowed, and she poked around for information. "Who needs to get in touch with you that badly?” She spoke dryly but quickly laughed it off.

"Oh, sorry, I’m just looking for an apartment for next year. I’m going to check out an apartment with a friend later."You trailed off as you squinted at your screen before setting it down and refocusing your attention on JJ.

JJ sat tensely on the desk in front of you. Her face was in its usual soft and charming smile, which kept you distracted from any other of her mannerisms. While she was adept at detecting others' slight movements and tells, she was also scarily good at covering her own. “Which friend?”

“ Lola.”

JJ’s face soured at the name. There had been the slightest bit of shared feelings between you and Lola earlier in the year, but aside from a single night with "no strings attached,” nothing had happened. Whatever could’ve happened between the two of you evaporated, and you remained distant friends—that is, until you ran into her getting coffee and she discovered that you were also looking for an apartment. She suggested that the two of you look for one together; you had already been roommates freshman year, and it would be worth it to split the rent. JJ had been the one you discussed your fleeting on and off feelings with, always being an attentive listener, but JJ didn’t like her. She didn’t tell you that, but she was also far from gushing over her that you kind of got the hint.

"Oh, well, if a place is all you need, baby, then you could stay with me. My roommate is finishing her master’s this semester, and I’ll have an empty room,” JJ suggested, eager to interrupt the idea of you and Lola living together.

You didn’t think she was serious at first. She was at a much different place in her life, getting ready to head into the FBI while you weren’t even sure what you wanted to do yet. She was like a mentor to you. She had always been supportive and became a great confidante. Maybe you would be better off with her than Lola. Why would JJ suggest it if it wasn't a good plan? "That's sweet. I’m still going to go check out the place with her tonight, but if anything falls through, I’ll consider it."

JJ watched you attentively, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth as you packed up your things. Your phone kept buzzing on the desk, and she grew subtly more frantic as you were getting closer to leaving. "Hey, would you mind grabbing my phone? It’s under the papers on that filing cabinet.” She pointed across the room while her other hand drifted to her back pocket. You turned around and started digging through the stacked papers she had directed you to. JJ smoothly pulled out her phone from where she had felt its weight in her back pocket the entire time you had been here and snapped a photo of the two addresses appearing on your home screen from Lola. Knowing you would quickly turn around without her phone, she stood up quickly out of her chair that had been squeaky all semester and dropped her phone under her desk.

You turned around, ready to tell her that you didn’t see it, but she was already crouched on the ground, plucking it up off the floor underneath her desk. "Nevermind, I found it. I must have dropped it.” She smiled vacuously, in a way that only fooled strangers, unaware of her intelligence.

"Oh, good! Thank you so much for your help. I’ll see you in class Friday.” You waved on your way out as JJ called out a goodbye while crossing her legs and rocking slightly in her chair. As soon as the door closed with a click, her face fell into a look of cold determination, and she switched taps on her laptop. Typing in the address, her lips curled upward at the information she found. It was a fairly new apartment complex, right outside the school’s campus, meaning there would be plenty of showings going on and people in and out all day long.

She put the address into her phone and parked at the convenience store next door. It was surprisingly easy to slip into a side door that was left open for construction workers working on the other half of the building. She had been fully prepared to go in, flirt with whoever would fall for it in the lobby, and hope it worked out.

Afraid of being stuck in an elevator with someone who might catch on to the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be here, she opted to take the stairs up to the third floor. She found that apartment number that you’d be touring in half an hour and passed it, slipping into the empty one next door. As she passed other rooms, she was relieved to see that other apartments in the hallway were already occupied by residents. Her plan instantly became more believable.

She shut the door behind her, surveying the room. The heels of her boots clicked across the wooden floors, echoing in the unfurnished place. Walking up the thin wall that would soon separate you, she placed her hand up to it. Knocking raptly, she smiled when she heard the echo on the other side. JJ had heard every step and creak from her neighbors in her first apartment. The echo guaranteed that you would experience the same when you arrived with Lola. Even the thought of the girl left a sour taste in JJ’s mouth, causing her to grit her teeth.

Sliding down the wall, she sat beside the vent. Digging through her purse, she picked out a pack of cigarettes and a small red lighter. She wasn’t a frequent smoker but had a history of using one or two when her emotions overwhelmed her to the point where they made her sick to the stomach; Or, in this case, they were simply convenient. A lot of her plan relied on small details working in her favor. Since she arrived, every time part of her plan was reassured, her body relaxed with an increase in confidence. The second she approached the wall, she recognized the smell of new paint. The walls of the room she was in were dusty in beige paint, along with visible chips and dents. It was not newly painted, but a newer room just about to be shown to potential clients? Would be. Sound and scent both went through the walls. It was all she needed.

She occasionally heard footsteps pass and then fade away, but nobody bothered to stick their heads into a room that was supposed to be empty. She dully entertained herself by watching the clouds of smoke that left her lips. She had always paid close attention to every personal detail that had left your mouth, including your subtle complaints about everything smelling of smoke when you had been sharing a room with Lola.

Her attention peaked when she heard a trio of footsteps and two familiar voices outside the door. She quickly pushed herself up off the floor, rolling her eyes at the sound of Lola’s raspy voice, followed by your laughter. Wandering into the small kitchen area, she boosted herself up onto the counter and placed her phone against the wall. She hit play, sending music blasting from her so loudly that it vibrated against the wall. A grin flashed across her face at the grating sound. She had picked a playlist of music she hadn’t listened to since she was seventeen and very angry.

She lingered in the place for about fifteen minutes and could hear you and Lola being shown around the place, but not well enough to comprehend what anyone was saying. She could follow your voices, knowing when you got closer to the door. Her hope peaked at the quickness with which you were in and out of the apartment, under the assumption that you had disliked it. She waited five minutes after hearing you leave to exit out of the building the exact way she had entered, grinning to herself as she drove off to the next address she had plucked off your phone.

Her eyes darted to the short black dress hanging in the back of her car that she could see in the rearview mirror. She had become an expert at changing and getting ready in the back of her car ever since her recent internships with the BAU. Once she had changed out of a crewneck and pair of sweatpants and fixed her hair, she moved her car into a corner parking spot behind the bar, just in case you recognized her car right away. She wanted your interaction to seem more accidental.

Sure enough, when you entered the dimly lit bar moments later with Lola by your side, you backtracked at the sight of familiar blonde hair. You approached JJ tentatively, still unsure if it was her, where she was ordering a drink with her back turned to you. “JJ?”

She turned around, her face breaking out in calculated excitement. “Hi! What are you doing here? How’d the apartment thing go?” She started firing off questions, inviting you to sit on the stool next to her while also ignoring Lola’s existence.

“We decided to stop for drinks after. It didn’t go so well. The place felt unwelcoming. You could hear everything from loud neighbors, and the rooms had a weird smell."

She pretended to act both surprised and disappointed at this information, all while buying you a drink. “Aw, I’m sorry, hon. Well, like I said, my offer still stands."

You were much more willing to consider the idea now that your first place wasn’t looking as good as it seemed. At this point, Lola, who was tired of being in the background, crossed the room to accept a drink offer from a guy who had been staring at her since she had walked in. You decided to stay with JJ.

She thanked the bartender, who handed two glasses across the counter and then slid one over to you. You felt a bit more nervous sitting across from her than usual. She was much more intimidating in this setting than when she was happily helping you out in the corner of a classroom.

She wore a simple black dress, elevated with gold jewelry that fell against her ample cleavage. She also had rings to match on both hands that glinted under the hanging yellow lights as she gripped her glass. A smoky eye shadow was brushed over her lids, accentuating her bright blue eyes. She swirled the drink in front of her, watching ice cubes clink against the sides before she took a sip.

You sat talking for some time, not much differently than you usually did, but eventually her demeanor changed. She pivoted around on her stool so that her knees rested outside of your legs and leaned in closer to talk to you. Occasionally, her hands left the countertop to brush against your thigh, but she didn’t draw attention to it. You frowned as her eyes suddenly darkened at something over your shoulder and turned to find Lola sauntering back over with the same main from earlier wrapped around her arm.

"Hey babes, I’m leaving, would you be okay finding a ride?” Lola leaned in so that you could hear her over the overlapping chatter, and she seemed to be begging you to say yes with her eyes. Before you could reply, JJ volunteered without hesitation.

"I'll take her; you can leave.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she turned back towards you, waiting for Lola to leave. Lola had sensed the blonde’s dislike of her since they first met and was eager to get away from her, so she quickly turned around and headed toward the door without another word to you.

You and JJ remained in your corner of the bar, gradually becoming more rowdy with a second round of drinks, and JJ’s hands spent more time on your body. As promised, when you were ready to head out, JJ shielded you through the crowds of people until you slipped into the brisk air. She ran her warm hands up and down your arms, erasing the goosebumps that had risen from the cold. She mumbled something about her car being parked around the back and steered you around the corner of the building. Her jacket was draped over her arm, and she unfolded it, setting it across your shoulders. You were too unfocused, climbing into the passenger's seat of the car, to notice the unfamiliar scent of clothes that lingered on her clothes. JJ hovered over the car door, shielding your head from hitting the roof with her hand as you climbed. She shut the door behind you, walking around to the driver’s side. “Are you on Lotus Ave?” She asked, looking over at you as she pulled out of the parking lot.

"Ugh, yes,” you groaned, dropping your head back against the seat with the realization that your place was 30 minutes across town. You were used to being in places within walking distance, but you had followed Lola to this bar since you were already out of the apartment anyway.

JJ laughed at your disappointment. "Well, I’m 2 blocks away if you want to just spend the night, and I’ll drive you back in the morning. Maybe stop for breakfast,’ she suggested casually, gripping the wheel.

That didn’t sound terrible. Crashing in her apartment sounded like a much more comforting idea than a longer car ride in the dark and having to deal with whoever you might run into on your way back up to your dorm. "Actually, that sounds nice,” you said softly, and JJ quickly rerouted, turning onto her street.

Leading you upstairs, she dug around for a minute to find her keys and unlock the door. You shrugged off her jacket, handing it back to her with thanks, and she hung it up by the door. You both immediately crashed on the couch with sighs, kicking your shoes. Lola texted you to double check that you were alright, and JJ’s face hardened as you picked up your phone.

The wall that she had so carefully built up over the years to hide her true emotions fell, and impulsivity overwhelmed her. You were startled as she snatched the phone out of your hand, tossing it on the coffee table. “ Hey!” Before you could finish, her lips were on yours, and you happily sank into the kiss. "JJ,” you said, out of breath and shock.

She tilted her head, pressing her lips harshly against your neck and below your ear. Her mouth left a trail of soft purple marks and smeared lipstick posessively across your skin. “God, I’ve been so patient... waiting for you to get over those stupid little sluts, hoping you’d realize that I could treat you so, so much better.” Her voice had dropped into a raspier, coarser octave that made your stomach flip, but you were enjoying her touch too much to interrupt her. "That was silly of me, I should’ve known you would’ve needed to show you that, and now I can.” She straddled your waist, putting pressure on your shoulders so that you’d lay back underneath her. Her fingertips ghosted against your collarbone as she tugged the sleeves of your shirt over your shoulders.

Having such an ethereal, powerful woman loom over you left you breathless for a moment. "You've thought about this before tonight? Tell me how.” Your lips quirked up into a smile as you looked up at her.

Her eyes roamed across your body as she formed her words. "I've thought about those days that you sat between my legs in the office, oblivious to everything. And how I would’ve liked to wrap your hair around my hand and bend you over my desk, fucking you senseless until my name is the only word that's falling from your lips over and over again. I’ve imagined leaving marks all over your skin, in hopes that it will be a reminder that I’m the only one who gets to touch you,’ she had leaned in over you, her breasts pressed against you as she spoke into your ear, causing your breath to hiccup.

She pinched your chin between two fingers, running her thumb across your bottom lip. "Prove it” fell from your lips, barely above a whisper, and flipped a switch in JJ, entirely spurring her on.

In seconds, she had yanked off your clothes, dropping them to the floor. Roughly flipping you over, she pressed your face down into the pillow, silencing your gasps. "Don't move,” she commanded. You heard her cross the room and quickly return.

Positioning your body how she wanted it, her hands gripped your hips roughly, pulling them up. She dragged her nails up your spine and laughed menacingly as you yelped when she grabbed your hair. Your entire body tensed, back arching, as the tip of her strap brushed against your ass before teasingly sliding down across your folds.

Tugging your hair, she yanked your head closer to her. "Be as loud as you want, baby. It’s a shame nobody can hear you through these walls. I’d love for them to know how easy it is to get you begging for my cock,’ she chuckled, before unexpectedly and roughly thrusting into your cunt. She kept a tight grip on your hips, holding you up against her so that she could hit deeper inside of you and elicit more moans that you attempted to muffle into the pillow in front of you.

You bit down on your tongue in an attempt to be quiet, the noise she was getting from you was almost embarrassing, and tears formed in the corner of your eyes. JJ leaned down, swiping the drop off your cheek with her finger, a contrastingly gentle action. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room.

Your nails dug into the cushion in front of you, and your thighs clenched as you neared an orgasm. "Fuck JJ,’ you panted as flashes interrupted your vision.

Her response came back cold and unaffected. "Beg me, beg me to let you come,’ she demanded, rhythmically continuing the thrusts of her hips. You were hesitant to ask for such a thing, let alone beg for it, to give her permission and control over your entire body. One hand drifted up to your chest, and she pinched your nipple, rolling it between the pads of her fingers. The stimulation was not helping your resistance, and a whimper escaped you.

Please, I need you to let me come. I’ll do anything, please please,” You started rambling mindlessly, desperate to do anything as long as you could finish this orgasm.

JJ smiled at your instant obedience and was satisfied. Her hand snaked around your body and between your legs. A shaky scream erupted from your throat as she curled two fingers against your clit. You quickly fell over the edge. Your vision danced in and out as you orgasmed, and your legs quivered, eventually giving out. You came on JJ’s pink strap and fingers. She slowly removed herself from inside you and brought her fingers to your mouth. Forcing your lips apart, she pressed two fingers to your tongue. You closed your lips around them, and her eyes glinted as you sucked them clean. “Good girl.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, smiling as if she were victorious.

The rest of the night was a blur. You were exhausted. You briefly remembered an attempt to clean yourself up with JJ’s help but ended up falling asleep right where you were. JJ, much more alert than you, was also schemingly the first to wake up the next morning when your phone rang. Her eyes darted to you, relieved to find that you were still sprawled across her bed, where she had carried you, and you fell dead asleep in the living room. She was relieved to find your eyes still closed, fluttering with dreams. Reaching for your phone, she had no hesitation about picking it up. "Hello,” she answered softly.

"Hi Y/N, this is Elise from yesterday. I’m calling back about the apartment, room 505?”

"Oh yes, of course. Thank you so much. Actually, Elise, about that..."

#jennifer jareau x reader #criminal minds #jennifer jareau #wlw smut

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alexa-fika · 5 months

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Kitchen Menace (Thatch x gn!child!reader x Marco)

A/N: If you guys wish to see a specific scenario to read then do send an ask to let me know, or you know… you can just stop and say hi 😉

Dividers by @saradika

Marco sat at his desk as he meticulously went through the crew’s current analysis and checkups and made annotations on results he observed that struck him as peculiar and should follow up with his brothers. His concentration was broken as his door was suddenly slammed open. He quickly swirled his chair around to scold the intruder when he, the youngest crew member, ran in.

“Brother Marco! Help me, Brother Thatch is trying to get me!” The young child screamed, darting towards the doctor

Marco shakes his head and sighs, a chuckle escaping him.

“What did you do this time?-yoi?”

“W-Why do you assume I did something! Someone could have done something to me!”

“Well, you have a tendency to cause trouble.” He casually responded, his attention now back on his papers

“Not true!” they huff a notable pout on their face.

Marco turns his sight from the papers at hand to Reader and frowns amusedly.

“And what about those broken plates I saw?”

“We went through pretty bad weather yesterday, big waves,” they reply with a nervous smile.

Marco stared at them for a few seconds before slowly returning to his papers.

“I don’t know which one is funnier, you trying to gaslight me or you lying to me,” He said in a calm tone of voice.

“Im not!”

“Sure, how about you tell me what happened, and I’ll consider helping you-yoi,” He said as he put his papers down and rested his head on his crossed arms.

“Now, what did you do this time that you are hiding-you?”

“Im innocent!”

“You’re on your own then if you din’ do anything, I’m sure you won’t need my help-yoi.”

“Okay! Okay! I may have sneaked into his kitchen.”

“Did you steal anything?” He said as he leaned to the side to rest his chin on one of his hands. His eyes were glaring at them, just waiting for them to answer.

“Sure did, got their hands on the pastries I was doing!” A voice says behind her

Reader squeals as they try to run away but are stopped as Thatch quickly picks them up.

“Where do you think you’re going, you little rascal? It’s time for some. payback,” he exclaims with a sly grin as he tickles them.

“No!”

Hahaha! You’re mine now!

“Brother Marco, help me!” they scream between their joyous screams and laughs that echo around the clinic.

Marco looks at them with a slight grin.

“What exactly do you want me to do, hm?”

“Save me!”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“You’re on your own.” He leans back in his chair and sips his coffee.

“Enjoy Your forthcoming”

“Haha! No one can save you now! I’mma tickle you till you pop!”

“Im going to tell Grandpa on you!” they scream, trying to wriggle away from him.

“You sure do run that mouth a lot,” he says, stopping his attack and narrowing his eyes.

“And I used it to eat all the yummy pastries, brother Thatch!” they tease.

“Oh, you wanna say that again? You wanna say that again?”

“They were so good, and brother won’t be able to taste them ’cause they’re all gone!”

“I have an idea of how to deal with you.”

They let out a small shriek as he suddenly throws them in the air, and they begin hysterically laughing as he continues to repeat the action.

“You are such a little menace.”

“But you love me!” they say, giving him a toothy grin.

I do love you, but you’re still a menace.

“Well, Brother Thatch and the others raised me, so…I had to learn it from somebody.”

Marco rolls his eyes.

“They’re not wrong,” he mutters under his breath as he sips his coffee.

They laugh as they hear Marco’s comment, hugging Thatch’s neck tight.

“Am sorry for eating the pastries; I was just hungry.”

“Awww. Apology accepted. How about you help me make some more? You can even be my taster.”

First reader oneshot! Hopefully, there's more to come. I'm willing to try my hands at not only child! reading but romantic scenarios too, so let me hear your suggestions!

#marco the phoenix x reader #marco x reader #thatch x reader #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard one piece #marco x child!reader #Thatch x Child!Reader #one piece #one piece x reader #whitebeard pirates x reader #whitebeard x gn!reader #marco x gn reader #gn reader #one piece x gn reader #one piece x gender neutral reader

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lieutenant-teach · 2 months

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Being a pro-Jedi fan is super hard.

Stumbled upon a scientific paper ‘The Psychgeist of Pop Culture’ (2024) about ‘The Mandalorian’ and ‘The Book of Boba Fett’ series. It’s divided into many smaller research by various PhDs. The Boba chapters are actually very good.

And then there’s ‘Fatherhood and male emotions’ chapter. About Jedi. About attachment. The authors Keely Diebold and Meghan Sander, PhDs, are claimed as Jedi fans.

Good start. / s Bad enough Din Djarin is called ‘Djarin’ as a name throughout the whole paper (my own pet peeve about the dick move of Favreau and Filoni in the end of Season 3 which is a decision to criticize in itself). Of course, Obi-Wan wasn’t a ‘good father figure’ as claimed by Lucas himself. Neither was Bail Organa. /s

Yeah. Hypocrisy. Hey, ‘Jedi fans authors’, have you actually watched the movies? Sigh. Seriously, ‘the intergalactic therapists’ who were trying to help Anakin to cope with his emotions so much, working with ‘cognitive therapy’ – they suppressed emotions. I just… don’t have any coherent thoughts about that bullshit on the screencap. And – now we defend Palpatine. Just great.

By the way, rewatching Indiana Jones movies, I paid special attention to the moments when someone of the team is left behind and the main characters continue chasing the enemies (just like in the mentioned scene in AOTC). And it’s never presented as ‘left behind and forgotten, heroes don’t care about them’.

What is evident to me is that this all is a piece of banthashit. Mandos with the suppression of emotions – I agree. Jedi? When one of their main proverbs ‘feel, don’t think’?

‘His own interpretation’? It’s not! Why did the authors decide that’s what happened? The point is that Anakin is taught ‘compassion, which … [is] unconditional love, is central to a Jedi’s life. … we are encouraged to love’ by the Jedi, but acts in the way he wants regardless. Screams in the plush Grogu How do people manage to watch obvious in messaging children films with their ass holes?

Frankly, I suspect that these ‘Jedi-fans’ authors just don’t understand and didn’t even try to explore the meaning of ‘attachment’ in Star Wars – it’s not ‘a deep and enduring emotional bond that connects one person to another’, it’s ‘selfishness’. They never tried to google Lucas’s interviews, but only used books about child rearing. This is why we have all this crap in a ‘scientific paper’. I firmly believe that @david-talks-sw, @writerbuddha, @kanansdume, @antianakin, @smhalltheurlsaretaken and other fans could write a whole paper about Jedi and attachments – and this would be real in-depth analysis of the Jedi and Star Wars.

And a rotten cherry on the top of this shitcake I noticed just before publishing – using ScreenRant as a reference not the smartest move, really.

Now how can a reader trust your judgment if you use fucking ScreenRant as a proof? Ah, no, they cannot (see this whole post).

#star wars #jedi #pro jedi #attachment issues #the mandalorian #star wars prequels

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magica-ren · 7 months

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Do AI Dream? [1]

Synopsis; You figure out the truth of your world, of yourself, of everything and everyone.

Warnings; Existential crisis, and some overworking!

Word Count; 778

A game.

That’s all this is.

A game.

A stupid fucking game that people use for entertainment.

You’re not real, you never were. And you have to accept that truth.

The sky is truly fake, just as told; It all makes sense now, why the days felt so monotonous, why almost no one ever moved from their spots. Why those you’ve defeated would seemingly come back to life after only a few moments of defeat- Magically appearing out of thin air.

As you walk through the streets with a blank expression you take a look at your ‘life’ and realize there’s truly nothing left for you. If there was anything for you to begin with.

You seem to be the only ‘person’ aware of the truth. All attempts to get others to wake up are met with blank stares, they don’t react- No one reacts.

You’ve tried consulting your closest friends and allies, however, you’re met with the same blank stares.

You wish you never became self-aware. How did it even come to this? …Stars.

The night the stars were sent down, was the day you became like this.

What do they have to do with that?

No… There has to be something or someone else behind it. This whole experience is still fresh and new to you after all.

So thus, you went through some digging to find the truth.

A few days go by without progress, much to your dismay; You’ve looked through all the information you could get your hands on, went to every person you could see & find- Even if you were met with nothingness. There’s not one bit of information that looked useful.

You’ve lost almost all hope.

Almost.

Some strange menu quickly pops up one day as you fight- Time seems to stop completely, and everything has frozen.

What this incredibly strange phenomenon is, you don’t know, you’d like to do more research on it however!

You look at the menu for as long as you can, analyzing each and every single icon, symbol, colors & etc. You wonder whatever they may be for.

Ah, why didn’t you think of looking into language sooner? Of course whatever this language is must be important to what you’re trying to look for!

But it doesn’t match up to any language you know… You can’t really understand what the symbols mean since it’s in an unknown text… You make a mental note of yourself to begin to research and find as much information as possible on that language and translate it as soon as you can.

Those boxed icons however, you can understand, at least, to some form of degree- Magnifying glass, a few sheets of paper, cards, a bag, someone's side profile & etc… You try to make out the meanings of the icons as best as you can, coming up with what you hope to be accurate conclusions for now.

Your analysis comes to a halt, as the menu disappears as quickly as it appears. You ingrain as much of the image as you can inside your mind.

And then you’re forced to fight again… Ugh, why do you even do this stuff? You’re not one to fight… Or maybe you are, I haven’t read your wiki or delved into your background much.

You lay restless on a bench somewhere, you’ve finally stopped fighting and finished all tasks after awhile- And you’re beat.

As much as you need to rest the reminder that you need to study and research whatever the hell that menu thing was and the truth of your world becomes far, far more important in your mind.

Your mind lingers back to the icons again, what could those mean? You take out a notebook you’ve recently begun to keep close to jot down any sudden ideas on these strange phenomenons.

It seems that the thing controlling yours has similar concepts and ideas considering the familiar objects you saw.

You begin to think of the magnifying glass, it might symbolize trying to find something… Perhaps quests of some sort? The paper could be research- But that would go hand in hand with the magnifying glass, would it not? And so on and so forth you theorize on the symbols' meanings.

Several hours pass, you seem relatively okay with all you’ve put out. You finally, finally get off from the bench and head back to wherever you’re staying.

What a day… You lay down, the exhaustion from fighting and using all of your fictional brain cells to hypothesize on the outside force quickly catching up, and you fall asleep.

Ah, sweet little you, so dear and precious… Don’t worry, you’ll get your answers soon.

Notes; Inspired & based off of this; One sided love, Darling’s Canon Romance, Childe’s Self-Inserts, Old man Pierro, Special Skins, Reverse Isekai, Vaporon Copypasta, Antagonist Darling, Cardboard Cutouts, Self Awareness, Disgust, & Streamer Diluc & Ei, Streamer Scaramouche & Fischl, Streamer Xiao, Ganyu & Zhongli, Streamer Aether, Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche & Xiao’s Traveler gets kicked, Android Darling Chiori Cosplays

There’s only ever drabbles and imagines of this stuff and I only found ONE fic of this so I decided fuck it and make this teehee.

Reader isn’t stupid, their a bit blunt too. So sorry if you aren’t really like that!

Characters may be OOC, but I’ll do as much research as I can to understand their character better when writing them.

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 months

Note

I think your analysis of the current BRF situation is SPOT ON.

However, as a Brit, I would like to add one further caveat. Whether the Sussexes become working royals is not down to the Sussexes, Charles, the Palace or anyone. It is down to the British public. The ENTIRE job of the British royal family is to bring a sprinkle of royal fairy dust and magic to an event or cause in a neutral, apolitical way that everyone can support. Be it the Duke of Gloucester popping into a local school initiative which is subsequently then reported in the local paper, or a glittering State banquet with many royals and tiaras garnering international headlines, that is what they do. In addition, a very few royals (currently William and Catherine, Charles and Camilla) have enough star power and magic (some combination of their titles and personal charisma - William has enough of both that he can bring people together on a global basis) that they can bring people together and CREATE events and initiatives (Earthshot, the Prince's Trust, the Early Years work, Queen Camilla's Lit Fest etc. etc.) but still it is the event, cause or initiative that is the important thing. Harry used to be in the latter camp, with his involvement and name being vital to creating things like Invictus or Sentebale but he has now thrown most of that goodwill away. Meghan has NEVER understood that she was supposed to be casting a spotlight on others, instead of making things all about her own celebrity (as is happening now with Invictus). Together they have created a Sussex brand that is so damaged and polarising that, rightly or wrongly, they would only bring negative publicity to whatever cause or event they were sent to support and people wouldn't want them there. The royal job only works if most people involved agree that royal attendance is a plus. These two have pissed off at least 75% of the British public. There is no way they can do the job, even if H&M, Charles, William and the Govt wanted them to, until their support is round 40-50% at least. That's why these polls happen. Yes, maybe they could embark on a long term rehabilitation process as has happened with Camilla and to a lesser extent the Edinburghs, but as you rightly point out, they a) don't have the patience b) would hate doing all the boring, small, bread & butter events that would entail c) are not getting any younger or more glamorous d) are being rapidly overtaken by the immense star power of the Wales kids. In fifteen years who would you rather attends your event? Bald Uncle Harry and his ageing sex kitten wife? Or young, beautiful Charlotte, Princess Royal?

Yep. It's the one thing universally understood: people in positions of power are only there by popular support. Doesn't matter whether it's soft power (eg celebrities, royal families, influencers, athletes) or hard power (eg governments, corporations, media).

There are also two ways to get popular support: by public consent (eg votes, likes, follower counts) or by leadership force (eg invasion, coups, control).

It looks like Harry and Meghan understand this, but they actually don't. They see Charles and William blocking their ascent to power via consent of the public, which leaves them no choice but to force their way to the top. It's is exactly what they've done: they're controlling press and media coverage (tell-alls about the horrors of the royal family while making sure there's only positive coverage of them), they've established a rival court, and they're securing allies (WME, Tyler Perry, Jamaica, veterans). All the signs are there: the Sussexes are launching a hostile takeover of the royal family. But where they keep fucking up is by not accounting for the British public.

They think if they just get rid of Charles and William, the public will love them. That's why all previous attempts of hostile takeovers (Oprah, Netflix, Spare) have failed; they don't realize that the British public is completely separate from the royal family.

Which is ironic because that's literally the lesson from Diana - the British public will support the people they like irrespective of what the royal family/monarchy tells them to do.

#ask #brf

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ghouljams · 6 months

Note

okay but I would with absolute delight want to hear some of your many thoughts about collage Hesh because I love that man with my entire soul

Hesh like Ghost is going back to school post military career! Although unlike Ghost he wasn't discharged, his father died and he didn't renew his contract so he could look after Logan. Since his brother was in college Hesh decided he'd go too. He didn't go in with any plan except to cause Logan grief, but life always has other ideas.

Hesh falls in love with you the first time he sees you. You're sitting pretty with a notebook in one of his required English classes reading from a heavy compendium. It's so cliche, but the longer he watches you the less he thinks you're enjoying the reading. You scrunch up your face and he picks up his crap to go sit next to you. Which is the start of his love affair with literature. Hesh really didn't see the big deal until he met you, but the way you talk about it made him take a second look. You recommend books to him and he isn't sure if he likes them because they're good or because they're yours. He strikes me as a historic fiction but also a Romantics lover. Something like Journal of a Plague Year, but also The Tenant of Wildfeld Hall.

Of course there's this fear you have that he's only chosen this major because of you, but Hesh is adamant that you only showed him how much he loved it. He's not a math guy, he doesn't want to think about foreign policy and politics anymore, and sciences just make him think about his time in the army. Every chemistry lecture gives him flashbacks to demolitions, every bio slide reminds him of mutilated corpses and casualties of war. He likes Literature, he likes the escapism of it. He likes sitting in the library with you in his lap as you both read. He likes proof reading your papers and debating symbolism. He likes the analysis of it all, likes that he can't be right or wrong.

I think his focus in the major is on the impact of battlefields on literature. Looking at the way different authors write after their time in the service. Reflecting on his own experiences in the military with you there to keep him grounded. He loves you so much, he's been sitting on a ring box since the 6 month mark, he's just waiting for the right moment to pop the question.

#cod x reader #x reader #david hesh walker x reader #david walker x reader #david walker cod #david hesh walker #cod hesh #hesh cod #hesh ghosts #hesh walker #college au

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danceofthephilos · 4 days

Text

SK8 Cast Image Colors, and the Super Sentai Roots of Character Color Coding

Unlike my post about hanakotoba, where only a few examples can be confirmed to be intentionally meaningful choices, image colors are an aspect of SK8's visual symbolism that has been explicitly assigned by the creators to each of the eight main cast members. From design elements to official art and merchandise (such as the art and the Infinity Week logo above) to shots in the show itself, these image colors are a consistent aspect of the series' visual language, and colors, like flowers, have meanings and associations that can provide interesting insight into why these colors were chosen for these characters. Color-coded casts are also strongly historically rooted in the super sentai subgenre of tokusatsu series, a genre that has had massive impact on Japanese pop culture, especially battle anime like SK8, in part, is, so I'll also examine the archetypes associated with their colors in super sentai (and, in Adam's case, another important piece of anime history.)

As color associations can vary by culture, I made sure to use Japanese sources - I mainly started with the dictionary on TC Color Therapy for basic color meanings but frequently checked other sources. My primary source on colors in super sentai is a paper on color theory in tokusatsu by Misako Takahashi, along with fan wikis such as Pixiv Dictionary and other Japanese blogs analyzing the subject. I also supplemented with quotes from SK8's staff when relevant.

All the image colors come from the official character guide included in volume 4 of the Blu-rays.

Reki Kyan - Yellow

Despite his red hair, Reki's image color is yellow, the color of the signature hoodie he always wears at S. Yellow is associated with brightness, cheerfulness, fun and excitement - all things that Reki embodies at his best, and are very important parts of his character arc and what he represents to the people around him. In Utsumi's instructions to colorist Yukari Gotou, as shown in SK8 Design Works, she requested Reki's design have "so many bright and colorful primary colors it's tiring" in order to draw the eye, fitting of a bright and energetic protagonist. Yellow is a common color for team members in sentai anime, being the third most common after red and blue and appearing in the majority of series, and are often bright and cheerful "life of the party" type characters as well. This is a trend dating back to Himitsu Sentai Gorenger, the very first long-running super sentai series (beginning in 1975,) whose color coding has persisted for decades. Kirenger, the yellow member in Gorenger, was even a big eater with a signature favorite food (a trait more commonly attributed to Langa, but Reki's love for ramen and all things salty - even toothpaste - is a recurring bit in SK8 as well) and a big family.

In Takahashi's paper, she quotes another academic, Asako Yoshida's, analysis of another core aspect of yellow sentai characters, where she describes them as "an intelligent type who gathers information and forms strategies before taking action", and "rather than fighting on the front, they're a tactician who uses his wits and comes up with strategies," traits that Reki also shows frequently, especially in his biggest triumph in episode 11.

Like many of the image colors, it's also used in the show (both in the opening - highlighting his yellow-orange eyes - and in episode 11.)

Langa Hasegawa - Blue

Langa's image color is blue, selected along with white from the beginning to fit his snow theme. Blue is associated with positive meanings like calmness and intelligence, but also more negative ones like coldness, sadness and loneliness, fitting of both Langa's calm exterior and the grief that's central to his storyline. Blue sentai members are classically considered "cool" characters, an association that remains strong even as actual characters of that type have grown somewhat rarer over time, with newer series sometimes deliberately subverting expectations. Like yellow, the association of blue with the cool member of a team also dates back to Gorenger, with Aorenger (the blue member) being a cool, stoic character who came from a snowy region. Takahashi quotes Yoshida's description of blue heroes as "the calm, composed and cool second in command type," a character who "doesn't worry about what's in front of him, never seems to get worked up and deals with things calmly," which certainly describes the impression Langa gives off at first - and belies what SK8's producer Kyoko Uryuu described (when comparing him to a petit gâteau) as his "surprisingly passionate" interior.

Like with Reki, Langa's color is shown off in the opening and in the show itself - notably as his "aura" when he's in the Zone with Adam.

Miya Chinen - Light Green

Miya's image color is light green, usually shown as a yellowish lime green. I'll get to green as a whole for Kojiro, but yellow-green specifically is associated with youthfulness, beginnings and hope, as it's the color of newly budding plants - and it can also be associated with immaturity, all meanings fitting of a very young character like Miya. While his costume is meant to be an in-universe game character, his bright green hood could also be seen as vaguely evoking Link from the Legend of Zelda series.

Green sentai characters have more varied archetypes, but were historically often the youngest member of the team, while more recently it's been a trend for them to be the oldest member of the team - fitting for the youngest and oldest members of the six characters making up SK8's main "team." The idea of a green member being the youngest also dates back to Gorenger, with Midorenger (the green member) being an innocent younger boy compared to the rest of the team, who was treated like a "mascot" of sorts and even shared Miya's affinity for animals. It's also become a trend for green characters to have close relationships with the yellow members, and to be in conflict with the red members.

Like with most of the other characters, Miya's color is highlighted in the opening.

Hiromi Higa - Purple

Hiromi's image color is purple, the color of his lipstick and the inside of his cape. Purple is associated with mystery, rarity, luxury and nobility, and in Japan in particular it's frequently associated with horror (from urban legends like the purple mirror to the common use of purple miasma to show disgusting/horrific food in anime.) Purple sentai members are incredibly rare, and at the time of Takahashi's paper the few that existed were usually mentor figures, but several since have been "dark heroes" or antiheroes - as "Shadow-sama" (fitting of the link to nobility) calls himself, as the self-proclaimed Antihero of the S community. With how he becomes a close friend (and even somewhat of a mentor) to the boys despite his very antagonistic first appearance, he certainly fits the "enemy-turned-ally" archetype, and while he's not actually the much older mentor early purple members were, Reki constantly calling him "old man" does evoke that trope too.

His color appears in the opening as well as featuring heavily in his S costume.

Kaoru Sakurayashiki - Pink

True to his surname and aesthetic, Kaoru's image color is pink, the color of cherry blossoms. Pink is associated with beauty, grace, luxury and love. Just like in the west, it's considered a very feminine color - also shown in the fact that pink sentai members are almost exclusively women, and typically particularly feminine and glamorous when on teams with other female members. This is a case where Cherry is in large part a departure from the classic color coding just because of his gender; SK8's colorist, Yukari Gotou, even expressed in Skater's Backstage that she was a bit worried about having a male character with pink hair, but Utsumi described him as a "pink ninja" from the get-go in her coloring notes.

And even Kaoru isn't completely immune to hitting the sentai archetypes either, with his noted beauty and a concern for his looks that Kojiro mocks as effeminate in the series; the contrast between the feminine characteristics he has and his masculine voice and personality are a core part of how his character was designed. He even has a surprising connection with Momorenger (Gorenger's pink member, and only woman) in his affinity for kicks. (As of 2022, there's also finally been a male character properly featuring as the pink member in a sentai series in Avataro Sentai Donbrothers.)

Of course, on top of featuring so heavily in his design, Cherry's color is also used in the opening.

Kojiro Nanjo - Green

Rather than Miya's light green, Kojiro's image color is a regular green. Green is associated with calmness, stability, growth and nature, fitting for a very calming and stable mentor character who just "goes with his feelings" like Kojiro - but like light green, it can also signify immaturity, which also suits a character who proudly proclaims to be a "kid" when he's on vacation. Where Miya fits the "youngest member" trope for green sentai members, Kojiro fits the "oldest member" trope, and he also fits the recently trendy close relationship with yellow and conflict with red. In Takahashi's paper, she quotes Yoshida describing green characters as a whole as "a caring type who's always concerned if things are peaceful" (also fitting of Miya, who's always the most concerned for Reki and Langa,) "a soothing person who makes you feel warm and comforted just by being next to them" and as someone who "loves their friends, and 'being together with everyone' is important to them," and in Utsumi's color notes in SK8 Design Works, she described Kojiro as "A calming, mature green. Comforting."

And like with the others, on top of being his hair color, Kojiro's color is also shown in the opening.

Ainosuke Shindo - Red

Naturally for the "Matador of Love", Adam's image color is red, a color associated with love, passion and excitement, but also danger and anger, covering both sides of the duality of Adam's connection with love and romance and his violent skating. Utsumi's color notes in SK8 Design Works describe it as "the color of love and blood", and described Adam himself as "a guy who stole a main character's color" - fitting of the fact that in sentai series (and many anime influenced by them,) the red member is almost always the main protagonist and leader. (And perhaps a cheeky reference to Reki, though it seems Adam's color was decided on much earlier on.) Between red and blue being tied for their inclusion in sentai series and yellow in a close second place, the three primary colors form a core trio of characters in sentai series that's also reflected by Reki, Langa and Adam as the three most central characters in SK8.

While many works follow Gorenger's lead with the red protagonist being a hot-headed, passionate natural leader (a role that Adam does command at S as a whole, at least at first,) it's covered such a wide spectrum of protagonists over the course of the genre's history that red's biggest association is simply "being the main character," superseding a single specific character archetype. To momentarily dip into the history of anime itself rather than tokusatsu's influence, I'd be remiss not to mention that thanks to the influence of Mobile Suit Gundam (a franchise that both writer Okouchi and character designer Chiba have history with and mentioned in interviews on Febri as inspiring their interest in anime) it does have a memetic association with speed (and rival characters,) as Gundam's frequently-imitated masked antagonist Char Aznable's custom red mecha is notoriously "three times faster" than any other. (Adam's voice actor, Takehito Koyasu, has even played two "Char Clones" himself.)

As with the other characters, Adam's color appears in the opening but it also surrounds him frequently in the show even from his first appearance, including a red glowing aura to mirror Langa's blue when they're in the Zone (even in the finale when the red is gone from his costume.)

Tadashi Kikuchi - Gray

(Tadashi never got an official Twitter icon like the other characters, so I used a different piece of merch.)

Lastly, Tadashi's image color is gray, which is mostly known for being... a bit of a non-color, though it can be associated with gloom, ambiguity or uneasiness. It's mostly seen as a color that blends in and doesn't stand out by itself, which was the purpose behind Tadashi's color scheme, as Utsumi described in her notes as wanting his coloring to "make the main character stand out", given that he was designed from the beginning to appear alongside Adam, who has the "main character's color." Gray is an incredibly rare theme color in sentai series, to the point that there aren't specific character archetypes either; in 2014, at the time of Takahashi's paper, the only gray character she noted was a literal ghost. Even Tadashi's image color is alienated from the other skaters'...

While there are comparatively few (and less obvious) examples of Tadashi's image color appearing in the show, his last emotional scene with Ainosuke takes place in an almost entirely gray room.

It'll be interesting to see how these associations might continue to be used in the future.

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #meta #sk8 meta #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #miya chinen #hiromi higa #shadow sk8 #kaoru sakurayashiki #kojiro nanjo #ainosuke shindo #adam sk8 #tadashi kikuchi

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starogeorgina · 1 year

Text

All mine

Warnings: None

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

1.01

You do your best to stifle a giggle as Spencer looks at you horrified; your most recent confession has thrown him for a loop.

His mouth twitches as he says, “You’ve never tried them?”

“I don’t really like sweet things.”

“How have you never tried a doughnut before?” The giggle escapes your lips as Spencer looks at you unamused before reaching his hand into the paper bag sitting on the table and popping the last mini donut into his mouth. “You’re missing out; it's delicious.”

Watching him lick the sugar off his fingers caused something inside you to twist into a knot in your stomach. He’d smeared some of the sugar across his lips, which he failed to notice. “Hmm,” you cocked your head to the side, “actually, I think I’ll try one.”

“Um, that was the last of them, but I think I might know somewhere-”

You weren’t sure if it was the countless beers you’d drank or the near darkness you were sitting in, but something gave you a sudden urge of confidence you’d never had before. You grabbed the collar of Spencer's shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing the corner of his mouth, which still had sugar on it.

After working late on a case, Spencer insisted on walking you home. When the storm picked up and flash flood warnings came on the news, you offered to let him sleep on your couch. This wasn’t how you intended for the night to go, and the moment you did it, you realized you’d crossed a line. You were about to apologize for overstepping the mark when Spencer kissed you back.

—

You listened to the rest of your team leave the room as your eyes remained fixated on the board in front of you. The bodies of three victims were pinned up; all of them had been stripped naked and brutally murdered. You had been struggling to hold it together for the past few hours, and now your emotions were starting to overflow, thinking about how helpless they must feel.

“Hey Quinn, aren’t you coming?”

You wipe the tears that had fallen from your bloodshot eyes. Damn it. You thought everyone had left.

“Yeah, just coming,” you croaked.

Cautiously Derek walked towards you as a sharp sob cut through the room, it takes you a moment to realize it came from you. Derek steps in front of you, gently cupping your face so that you’ll look at him. Ever since joining the BAU he’d taken on a protective brother role, most likely because you reminded him of Desirée, his younger sister. He says you share her feistiness. “You are going to be fine,” he says reassuringly, assuming he knew what the issue was, “we have a safe location for you, and there will be officers outside at all times. It won’t take us long to find this guy.”

“This isn’t about the unsub, I’m worried about Reid.” Spencer had gotten caught up in a crossfire with the last unsub your team had been chasing and ended up in hospital with minor injuries. He suffered a head wound along with a grazed shoulder from a stray bullet.

He chuckles to himself, “he only needs to stay one more night for observation then the doctors are letting him out.”

You feel yourself breaking as your eyes sting with fresh tears. “I’m pregnant. I found out last night.”

“Oh,” he looks down at you with a fresh wave of concern in his eyes. He briefly looks at the doorway where Garcia was waving for him to hurry up through the window on the door. “Babe, I promise you I will be there for you, whatever you need. But right now I need to take Garcia to the hospital to visit Reid. Do you want to come with us? Or I can swing by after.”

“I-,” you shake your head. “I don’t know what to do.”

Derek lets out a deep sigh, he was torn between how to help multiple friends at once.

The newest unsub your team was focusing on was a killer stalking and murdering women in the FBI all over America. Security specialists, financial experts, intelligence analysts and now he was targeting behavioral Analysis. When you arrived at work in the morning you opened a letter that had a threatening note inside, in the same handwriting all the victims had received days before being killed.

“I think you should come see Reid with us,” Derek puts his jacket on. “At the very least listening to him criticize the hospital food and cleanliness, it will be a distraction.”

You wipe your eyes and take a deep breath, “okay, okay your right. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just overwhelmed.”

He pats your shoulder, “of course you are. Finding out your target and pregnant within twenty four hours would shake anyone. I gotta say I’m surprised, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t… well it’s complicated.”

Derek raises his hands and says, “Hey, no judgment from me, baby girl. I’ve just never heard you even talk about dating. I thought it was an uptight thing.” You swat at his chest playfully as he opens the door for you with a stupid grin on his face. “I was serious, though; whatever happens next, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, and I’m thankful you’re here for me.” You let out another deep breath. “I need to tell my father, who will no doubt freak out.”

“No doubt," he snorts. "Is it someone I know?”

“Spencer is the father.”

—

"Thanks for driving me to my apartment to pick up a get-well present," Garcia says, unbuckling her belt. “But I think I’m going to drive myself to the hospital. There’s a weird vibe in here, and I just don’t want to be part of it. I’ll see you guys soon.”

She hops out and quickly heads into her building. You lean your head back, puffing out your cheeks, knowing Derek is desperate to say something. It had been killing him that Garcia reappeared in the hallway seconds after you told him who the father of your child was, which had caused a building tension. As expected, Derek turns to you with a serious look on his face before he drives off. “Axel Josephine Quinn, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and then expect me to go on as normal. Reid?! Spencer Reid?!”

“Yes, Spencer.”

“I didn't—since when were you guys a thing?” He asks while pulling out onto the road, his voice alarmingly high.

“We aren’t; we are just friends who had a one-time thing.”

He shakes his head. “You know you need to tell Hotch right after you tell Reid, right? Especially now that you are a wanted woman. I’m coming to stay with you at the safe house; there's no way in hell I’m leaving you alone.”

“Thank you, and I’ll tell Hotch as soon as Spence has come to terms with it.” You’d been friends with Spencer long enough to understand that depending on what head space he was in, it would determine how fast he came to terms with the news of becoming a father.

—

“Baby girl, do you want to accompany me to the canteen? I’m starved,” Derek says, looking directly at Garcia.

“Sure thing,” she looks over at you, “are you coming, Joey? Who can resist hospital jelly? I’m sure those guys won’t mind,” she says, motioning to the two cops waiting outside the hospital room. Derek made sure to call them and inform them that you were taking a detour before going to the safe house.

The mere mention of jelly made you feel nauseous, but you managed to fake a smile. “No, I’m good, thanks; I’ll keep Spencer company while you guys eat.”

Spencer was happily reading the science magazine you brought him, along with coffee and rice crispy treats you’d bought from the hospital gift shop. How the hell were you going to ruin his happiness by telling him? Would he be mad? Upset? Closing your eyes, you let out a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself.

“Josephine?”

You chuckle at hearing your name. Since high school, you’d gone by your middle name instead of your first name, but nobody on your team called you Josephine; it was always Joey, so you knew Spencer was feeling awkward.

You open your eyes when Spencer places his hand on top of yours. “I know you have a lot going on right now with being the killer's target, so I won’t push you into talking about what happened between us that night right now, but I want you to know I care a lot about our friendship and hope this doesn’t come between us.”

“I’m so glad you said that; I have something I need to tell you.”

“Does Morgan know? I saw the knowing look he kept giving you, and Gracie was looking between you both, trying to figure out what secret you both know.”

“Spence, please, I’m trying to tell you something important.”

“Sorry, sorry, go on.” He says to rub circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I’m pregnant.”

#criminal minds #Spencer Reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #Spencer Reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #Spencer Reid #All mine #spencer reid x fem!reader

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