#facial hair lovers unite

[prettyfastcars]

rumours about you | Mob!Lando

Summary: You’re not necessarily happy regarding the announcement your family just made – about how you would be marrying one of their allies’ sons in order to unite forces and what not. You had multiple issues with your family making major decisions about your life just like that, but the main one was that you disliked the one they chose for you to marry. Lando. So you decided to confront him, thinking the two of you would work together and find a way to call off the wedding. But Lando has other plans. 

Themes: arranged marriage, smut, explicit language, enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies ish, degrading kink, dom!lando, slightly bratty!reader

“I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.” 

When you showed up to his house – or mansion rather – earlier, his butler told you to wait for him in his study room. The butler also said that Lando would be home soon. You were not very patient at the moment given the unsteadiness of your life, so waiting for half an hour was driving you insane. 

Had it not been for the multiple bookshelves to explore and inspect, you would’ve surely lost it. 

Lando paused briefly at the doorway upon hearing the sound of your voice. Then he walked into the room in that arrogant manner of his, that maddening smile on his face, and shut the door behind him. 

The bastard knew he looked good and he flaunted it always. Nice and muscular, that tailored, dark suit looked damn good on him. Little bit of facial hair, brown curls on his head and those damn pretty eyes. Not to mention those natural, extra long lashes that would make anyone jealous. 

He smirked when he caught you checking him out. “Apologies,” He said, “But your future husband is a very busy man, you might wanna get used to it.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the large desk, watching said future husband as he walked straight toward the mini bar and began making drinks. You noticed he grabbed two glasses so at least he was polite. But you weren’t here to have drinks and chit chat. So you got straight to it. 

“I want you to call off the wedding.” You said. 

“This is the third time we’re having this conversation.” Lando sent you a look before turning back to focus on the drinks. “And I’m asking you again, why would I do that?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment. You two had had this conversation twice already. And each time, Lando would just send you home without listening to what you had to say. 

“Because…” You trailed off, then tried again, “Because we would be miserable together. I mean,” You chuckled humorlessly, “Marrying to unite forces? Really?” You sounded disgusted, “That’s so old fashioned.” 

Lando finally walked away from his minibar with two drinks in his hands. He sipped on one and when he made it over to you, shamelessly letting his eyes roam all over your body before he handed you the other glass. You accepted it and took a sip as well. It was some kind of spiced whiskey, and you welcomed the burn. 

He shrugged, sliding one hand into his pocket. “I see no problem with it,” He said, looking you deep in the eyes with his bluish green ones. “It’s been happening for decades in both our families. It’s made us strong, powerful, and wealthy.” 

You closed your eyes and sighed, “Then go find someone else. I don’t want to marry you.” 

Truth is, you’d known Lando and his family since you were a kid. Dinner parties, galas, birthdays, family vacations, he was always around. And you disliked him even as a child. He was too loud, too popular. Then he got older and got hot, then slept around like it was his job. The rumours that circulated around about him were… not very pleasant. 

Lando raised an eyebrow at you. “Why not?” He teased. “I’m perfect.” 

You gave him a fake smile and said, “I would rather marry someone who is less of a manwhore.” 

He chuckled. “That just means I have more experience.” He stated, then leaned closer and whispered into your ear, “Experience that I can use to turn you into my perfect little wife. Both in and out of the bedroom.” 

You scoffed, “You’re disgusting.” 

“I’ve been called worse things, princess.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Look just… call it off.” 

He asked, “Why don’t you do it?” 

“You think I haven’t tried? They won’t listen to me. They say I’m just throwing another tantrum. Like I’m some kind of child.” You stated, finishing your drink and leaning against the desk again. Lando stepped closer, invading your personal space, looking at you like you were some kind of oddity. “What are you doing?” You hissed. 

He finished his drink and said, “Just thinking about how I’ll handle your tantrums in the future. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours, I’m very good with brats.” 

You should’ve known this would be useless. So instead of arguing, you said to him, “If we ever get married, I will never let you put a finger on me. You hear me?” 

The asshole smiled like he was looking at a little puppy. “You’re cute when you try to stand your ground, princess.” He said in a lowered voice. “But we both know you’ll turn into a puddle the moment I touch you.” 

Then his hands were on you, holding you by the waist as he pulled you into him. Chests pressing together, you were speechless for a moment as you stared into his pretty eyes. He smelt so good too. 

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Lando smirked, “What did you think you were doing, huh? Showing up at my house in a tiny little dress, asking me to call off the wedding, accusing me of being a whore too.” He chuckled. “You’re a mess, babygirl. Don’t you see it?” He asked. “A complete brat who needs some taming.” 

He also noticed the way you clenched your thighs together, like you were craving friction down there. 

“Don’t you see you need me?” His voice was softer now, and still condescending. He leaned in and whispered, his lips brushing against the side of your mouth as he did, “I can help. I can make you the most perfect wife for me. Obediently, polite,” He chuckled, “And dirty, but only for me. I’ll handle all your tantrums in private, and I’ll be so, so good to you.” 

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your mouth at the sound of his words. They should’ve offended you, they would’ve if it wasn’t for the wetness gathering in your flimsy underwear. 

He was so close, his lips just an inch away from your own. His scent was driving you insane. You knew whatever was gonna happen from now on would change everything. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to. 

So when he brought his hand in between your legs and slid it up your dress, you let him. You let out a gasp when he cupped you down there, instinctively rubbing his fingers against your dripping wet folds. 

Lando scoffed, “See? Told you you’d turn into a puddle.” You whimpered as he lazily circled your clothed clit, smearing your wetness around. “Filthy, little brat.” He chuckled, then pushed your underwear to the side to touch you properly. You let out a loud moan and he smirked, pressing his lips against yours but not kissing you yet. 

“Please…” You begged. 

“Please what?” He scoffed again as he slid a finger inside you and felt you clenching hard around him. “Still want me to call off the wedding?” He teased, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. “Answer me, what do you want? Hmm? You want to come like a good girl or do you want to be a haughty brat and cause a scene?” 

He stroked you so perfectly, so slowly that it made you lose your mind. “Please, Lando…” You gasped. 

He added another finger as he chuckled darkly. “Look at you,” He taunted, “Showing up here again and again, acting all tough and assertive. Thinking you can tell me what to do? Hmm? You think this is how it’s gonna work?” He pulled away a little to look at your pleading eyes. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach you everything. I’ll worship your entire fucking existence. I’ll fuck you until you forget your own name. And in return all you have to do is be a good girl, and eventually, my wife. Yeah?” 

You nodded a little too quickly. He laughed. 

“No more of this call off the wedding nonsense. You hear me?” 

You nodded again. 

“Good girl. See? You’re learning already.” He removed his hands from in between your legs and said, “Get naked, and bend over my desk.” 

As if under some kind of spell, you obeyed immediately. You took the dress off, then removed your underwear and dropped all your clothes into a little pile. You took one look at him and he pointed at the edge of the desk, so you did as he asked. 

As your cheek pressed against the cold surface of the polished wood, your hands laid palm down on each side of your head, you could hear him behind you as he took his suit jacket off and probably also rolled the sleeves of his button up shirt to his elbows. 

Then you felt his hands on you again, rubbing up and down your sides, your hips, your back as he pressed his clothed erection against you from behind. Another whimper escaped your mouth when you felt it. Warm, and hard, rubbing against your wetness. 

He bent down and whispered into your ear, his chest pressing lightly against your back, “You see how nice it feels when you’re obedient, baby?” He trailed his fingers down your spine and in between your legs again. 

You squirmed under him, against the desk. Breathing heavily as he took his time and touched you like he was in no rush. You whined as he touched a sensitive spot inside you, “Please… stop teasing me,” You sounded just as desperate as you were. 

He kissed your ear, making you shiver just at the mere touch of his lips, before saying, “Well, since you asked so nicely.” 

The sound of him undoing his belt and lowering his zipper made your heart race. You felt his rough, but warm hands on your body again as he grabbed you on either side of your hips before pressing the tip of his cock against your hole. But he didn’t slide his cock inside of you yet because of course, he wanted to make you suffer some more. 

“Are you gonna behave from now on?” He asked, sliding the tip of his cock up and down your slit, making you whine and cry out in desperation. 

“Yes…” You whispered. “Yes, just please–,” 

The sound of his hand slapping your thigh cut you off. Followed by a slight sting which made you squirm and whine some more. Lando’s voice was deeper now when he spoke, “What did I say about ordering me around? Hmm?” 

You tried to push back into him but he pulled away chuckling each time you did. So finally you said, “I’m sorry.” 

“Good girl,” He whispered, slowly pushing inside you until he filled you up, feeling your walls tighten around him immediately. “Ah fuck, I knew you’d feel like fucking heaven.” He groaned, muttering under his breath as he fucked you with shallow thrusts. 

Lando grabbed your wrists and pinned them down at your lower back, using it as leverage to fuck deeper into you, harder, faster. He laughed when you began whining even louder, mumbling incoherently as he fucked you. 

“Sure you wanna give this up, baby?” He questioned, gradually building up his pace. “You sure you don’t want this little pussy to be full of me each night? For the rest of your life? Huh?” 

The sound of of you two fucking was driving you insane. 

“You’re gonna be addicted to this cock now, you’re gonna want it all the time.” He boasted. “But you can only have it when you’re a good girl, you hear me?” 

His breathy moans, his raspy voice, your body bumping against the desk with each thrust, the sound of metal from his belt clinking together, it was all too much, too good. 

“Please…” You whimpered, begging for more. 

“Yeah? This is all you needed, isn’t it, baby? Acting like a disobedient brat, thinking you make the rules, all of it just because you needed to be fucked and put in your place, huh?” He growled, tightening his grip on your wrists as he fucked you harder, feeling your walls getting tighter around him. 

You whined, “Lando… I–” 

He cut you off quickly, “Hold it, don’t come yet.” 

He thrust his cock harder into you, making your eyes water and your heart race. Then he just stopped, abruptly. Pulled out and pulled you up from the desk, turning you to face him. 

“You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you?” He grabbed you by the chin as he spoke, staring deep into your eyes. You could barely form a thought. Lando just scoffed and leaned in to kiss you, hard, before pulling away and saying, “Get down on your knees.” 

Lust-drunk and under his spell, you did. You got down on your knees in front of him. You watched how he grabbed his cock at the base and guided his tip over to your already open mouth and said, “Now be a good girl, and suck.”  

You opened your mouth wider as he slowly pushed himself deep into your mouth. He grabbed the back of your neck and gently guided you. 

“That’s it. See? You’re learning already? That’s how a good wife sucks her husband’s cock,” He hissed in pleasure. You looked up and met his pretty eyes. He looked down at you like you belonged there, kneeling before him with his cock in your mouth. 

You felt his smooth skin along your tongue, tasting his precum as he groaned and hissed in pleasure. You whimpered, circling his tip with your tongue before sucking on it gently. 

“Look at me.” 

When you looked up at his handsome face, he said, “Fuck… you’re so beautiful, you know that? Come on now. Up.”  

Lando had you sit on the edge of the table again before he stepped in between your legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck immediately, fingers sliding into his curly hair as he leaned in to kiss you again. It was a deep kiss again with him growling into your mouth with impatience. 

He kissed his way down your neck as he aligned his cock to your core again. He slipped inside you with ease this time, making you gasp at how good he felt as he began fucking you. 

“You feel that?” He asked, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed them further apart so he could fuck you deeper. “This cock can be all yours, baby.” He whispered, lips brushing against your own as he spoke. “You can have it anytime, all day, every day if you want.” He fucked you hard, fast and deep. Your body would’ve fallen on top of the desk had he not wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. 

You moaned incessantly, not caring if his butler or housekeepers heard. “Lando …” You gasped, “I’m so close…” You whimpered. 

He chuckled. “Are you now?” He teased. “Your little pussy feels so good… so fucking tight like it was made for me,” He whispered against your skin and you barely heard him given your heartbeats echoed in your ear, you were breathless, you wanted more. 

You whined as you felt yourself getting so close to the edge again as he pounded into you relentlessly. You felt a familiar pressure in between your legs, all of it getting too much to handle.

“Lando, please,” You cried out, looking into his eyes and silently pleading. “Please, can I come?” 

He smirked, feeling your walls clench violently around him. “See I told you I was very good with brats. Look at you no longer complaining, no longer whining about wanting to call off our wedding.” His voice sounded deeper when he spoke. Then he saw that look in your eyes, you were close to losing your mind so he finally said, “Come on then, baby. Come all over this cock.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You came with a loud cry of his name, walls clenching around him and milking him so perfectly that he followed shortly after, coming undone while he was buried deep inside you, gripping your thigh tightly and holding you close. 

You rested your forehead on his shoulder as you both caught your breath. He wrapped his arms around your shaking body, caressing up and down your back while you held on to him like he was your everything. 

“So?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. “Still want to call off the wedding?” 

“I hate you.” You mumbled, voice muffled given you’d shoved your face into the crook of his neck. You hated how comforting his body heat was. 

Lando chuckled. “Of course you do.” He taunted. Then leaning down to get closer to your ear he whispered, “Your pussy just strangled my cock so hard I’m pretty sure it left bruises on it. But sure, you hate me.” 

You whined, squirmed a little because his words made a weird wave of pleasure wash over you. 

Lando laughed and said, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.” 

[prettyboypistol]

Yo, cis guy here, I've always felt a lot of shame about being super gay for the tf2 men, because it made me feel like less of a man. You reckon I could possibly get a scout or engie x reader when theyre calling the reader handsome, pretty boy, big man, and lots of masculine petnames? Smut or fluff or ignoring this is fine

I really like your work dude 😁

fellow cis guy here- I totally get it man. i'm glad that other guys like me enjoy my work. I also struggled with my attraction to men and fictional men were (and still are) my escape from homophobia and biphobia. Stay safe, you're valid.

TF2 Mercs With a Masculine!Male Reader

Scout

He loves squeezing your muscles and feeling your abs, totally not thinking of you as a goal for himself!

Nicknames include: Big man, big boy, sweet cheeks, hot shot/stuff, bossman, stud, etc.

likes the feeling of your facial hair when you kiss him- it tickle/scratches him in the best way!

Soldier

Thinks of you as the best man in the unit of RED! You're an exemplary man with gusto and power to spare! Solly fell for you when he caught you on a morning run "to keep yourself fit". That dedication got his heart skipping!

Nicknames include: Soldier, pride, the unit's pride and joy, big man

arm. wrestling. as. flirting., sparring. as. flirting. honestly anything that gets him up close and personal to you

Pyro

Hold onto you like a damsel in distress and loves how protective you are over them. As much as Pyro would and has protected you from enemy Spies, they like depending on someone who can hold their own.

nicknames include: My fire, firefly, my fireman, big boy, handsome

They love how you treat them like "just another one of the boys" rather than "the creature"- it really hurts their feelings when they're excluded due to how they cope with life.

Engineer

God he couldn't have asked for a better assistant. You grab heaps of metal for him, toolboxes, and sentries you can pick up with both hands and carry over to him!

Nicknames include: Hoss, handsome, big man, sir, boss

loves watching you work out while he works on his bench (sometimes even being your bench weight)

Demoman

He treats you like how he'd treat any partner of his, no changes. Demo's kind, loving, tender, but would let you fend for yourself to not baby you.

Nicknames include: dear, darlin', lovely, loverboy, handsome, best-shag-of-my-life

loves cuddling up to you and just burying his face in your muscles- but when he's not sleepy he is constantly hooting and hollering about how awesome his boyfriend is.

Heavy

a lot more friendly about his romance, treating you more like a best friend than a romantic partner in public mainly due to his anxiety about "being caught"

nicknames include(mostly in russian): lover, love, handsome man, hero, heart

he loves kissing your strong hands and sliding his hands over your muscles, it assures him that you're strong enough to take care of yourself, and that eases his worries.

Sniper

god this is a useless gay man. he sees you crush a bonk can and his heart skips a beat. you take off your shirt and he's speechless. you make him unprofessional and it ruins him internally.

nicknames include: Hotstuff, love, mate, darling, chickadee, big bugger, bear

he likes asking you to carry his stuff, complaining about his aching arms (totally not to watch you carry his things!!!)

Medic

ooooh god this man is a HOMOSEXUAL for you. on GOD.

nicknames include: honeybear, my love, my heart, my magnum opus, big man, beast

can, has, and will continue to flirt with you on the battlefield, no matter who sees him do it. If anyone gives you shit for being gay, he's instantly at your side and ready to beat them down with you

Spy

i mean... if you have a degradation kink go ahead i guess? he treats you like a bodyguard in public and is cold and callous in other's eyes. they think he hates you. In private however he is all over you. kissing, holding, embracing, etc., whispering sweet nothings in your ears.

nicknames include: my sweet love, my man, my handsome, big beauty, sweetness

although he seems uncaring in public, anyone who disrespects you gets backstabbed as "target practice" later when they least expect it.

[tragedycoded]

character profile tag!

@the-golden-comet how did you know I needed to repopulate my characters tags <3 Thank you for the tag!

I know everyone here knows him, but let's do this for the protagonist of Doom Metal Love Story anyway.

Name: Cole Francis Sullivan

Nickname: First Sergeant (his rank), variations on his rank ("Top" is pretty funny); Kentucky (Hofer); angel/dear-heart/whatever the current hyperfixation is (Royston)

Kind of Being: Human

Age: variable (born 1835; story takes place 1872-74)

Sex: Male

Appearance: Average height and sturdily built, wearing the field uniform and calf-length boots he only took off to change into his parade dress every evening, Hofer knew who he was looking at before he saw the man's face. (Prologue, Hofer POV)

Until Sullivan sat up, unfurling as he prepared to ride into battle again. Glowing with life, invigorated, half-mad with knowing what he wanted, finally. Ambitious in the way of warrior-kings of old, invulnerable and ageless, lamplight catching the gold and the silver in his brown hair, his red beard aflame. That bayonet scar on his shoulder marking him as human. That bullet scar on the back of his calf. Royston could adore the man and not put him up among idols. Why make him an angel, or a god, or a star. There were so many already, hundreds and thousands and countless of all. There was only one him. (February 1873, Royston POV)

Occupation: First Sergeant in the United States Army Cavalry Division; fort sheriff of Fort Sarras, Kansas

Family members: William (father, deceased); Aileen O'Hare (mother.) Only child.

Pets: Molly, a 12-year-old Morgan horse

Best friend: Major Erik Hofer, Surgeon of Fort Sarras, Kansas; Royston will annoy the shit out of me if I don't acknowledge that he is Sullivan's lover.

Describe his/her room: In the Golden Ending, he sleeps in a barrack with the rest of the NCOs. Based on photographs I've found, it would appear he does not have a roommate. He has a bed, a bureau, a nightstand to put a lamp on, and a peg over his bed for his weapons (rifle, revolver, saber.) This is a fucking hotel compared to the Bad Ending, where he's in a barrack with three other people (Quartermaster Sergeant Harrelson, Hofer, and possibly Sergeant Miller? or else it was the sergeant who dies in the bombardment the weekend before Royston Kool-Aid Mans into Fort Cano.)

Way of speaking: No indoor voice. Direct -> firm -> blunt if you're really not listening to him. Polite, until you give him a reason not to be. Hiding an accent.

Physical characteristics (posture, gestures, attitude): Always at attention. Observant. Ready to react. Always carrying at least two weapons; is a weapon.

Royston wants everyone to know he "fills out that damned uniform."

Items in his/her back pocket/ purse:

HERE I'LL SHOW YOU

(This guy's a private, don't even worry about it. He'd be carrying the same equipment and hey he has the same facial hair right on.)

Hobbies: Reading, playing chess, throwing darts.

Favorite sports: Bat-and-ball.

Abilities/Talents/Powers: Marksmanship mastery, horseback riding expertise, melee combat (saber specialization), leadership. Is the 10th Cavalry Regiment's filthy joke repository (he has a strong memory when it comes to dick jokes.)

He acquires additional, uh, "abilities" in Book 2 but that's a massive spoiler.

Relationships (how he/she is with other people): Preoccupied. Easy to lose touch with. Will go HAM on anything/anyone threatening someone he loves.

Fears: He just told me he doesn't much care for broccoli. When I asked him why he said the fact that it's shaped like a tree is disconcerting.

I understand.

Faults: He's stubborn. His refusal to follow orders that are counter to his own code of honor has cost him promotions. "HE ONLY EATS LIKE FIVE FOODS," Royston says.

Good points:

He may flinch, but he is brave.

He's a leader.

He's loyal (possibly to fault.)

He's physically and mentally strong.

"HIS ASS," Royston says. (Translation: He has a healthy sense of humor.)

What he/she wants more than anything else: To go to sleep at night knowing he did the best he could to protect his country and the people he loves; and, if is his time to die, for his death to not be in furtherance of an unjust cause.

Wait--

"Since he's wandered off and appears to no longer be listening... I want Arthur safe, and alive, and with me. Which I recognize is both a far more difficult condition to satisfy and antithetical to the previous answer."

HAPPY FRIDAY TAG LIST LET'S GO BAP BAP BAP

@lychhiker-writes @cowboybrunch @saturnine-saturneight @ashfordlabs @autism-purgatory

@noblebs @aintgonnatakethis @the-golden-comet @asablehart @mauvecatfic

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sableglass @gioiaalbanoart @words-after-midnight

@lavender-bloom @jev-urisk @wyked-ao3

[iheartpeppino]

I'm bored, so I'm just gonna write what I find most attractive or appealing about each Pizza Tower character!

Peppino Spaghetti - His superhuman strength and speed is extremely impressive, and watching him in action is immensely satisfying. Also, the fact he takes the time to save the bosses from the crumbling Pizza Tower shows he has a caring heart. I'm also very fond of how expressive Peppino is, and I'm also quite fond of his design in general; he's a middle-aged, balding overweight man yet I find him very handsome.

Gustavo - Admittedly, I find Gustavo quite handsome and even cute. I also like that he's supposed to be a Mario expy whose partner is Rick the Hamster instead of Yoshi; it's an interesting spin. It's also nice Gustavo cares enough about Peppino that he's willing to help him take on the Pizza Tower, even if it means facing giant rats. I found out not too long ago that Gustavo has a son... but he's not married? Is he divorced? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MINDS WOULD DIVORCE GUSTAVO!? HE'S SUCH A NICE GUY WHAT THE HECK!?

Brick - Just like all the Stupid Rats, Brick is super adorable. One look at those eyes and I'm done. He's too cute. I love him. I want a Stupid Rat plushie and I want it NOW.

Mr. Scott Stick - This bald, skinny twig of a man... is admittedly handsome in my eyes. He's a jerk who scams desperate people for money, but GOSH... I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Mr. Stick can get it. He's a cutie. Is it the suit? I dunno, maybe. That, and he's apparently a huge dork when he's not scamming people... which I find endearing, oddly.

Phil Pepperman - This pepper is an absolute unit with a big grin and striking blue eyes. I wouldn't call myself a simp, but I understand completely why some people find Pepperman attractive. Personally, I find his pseudo-intellectual personality off-putting, but he is quite good-looking for a pepper.

Vigert Ebenezer Lantte - He's an older guy with a cowboy motif and a great sense of justice and responsibility. How can you not find that attractive? Yes, I know he's a cheese slime, who cares! Don't think I haven't seen people simp over this guy and draw him as a human, either!

Theodore "The" Noise - I'm not a Noise simp by any stretch, but if there is one thing I can say that's attractive about him... it would be his youthful spirit. Yes, The Noise is a manchild, but that's not always a bad thing.

Noisette - She's a very silly little lady whom I find very cute. I appreciate that her design is just as goofy as her boyfriend's, too.

Fake Peppino - What can I say? He's a monster, and I'm a monster lover. I like that he's adorable, silly, AND super deadly! I wanna kiss the frog man, if he'll let me.

Pizzaface - I've seen people draw this mech with a big, beefy body. I get it. Pizzaface's design is appealing, why wouldn't you give him a beefy body to match how powerful he is...?

Pizzahead - HANDSOME UNHINGED SILLY-ASS PIZZA CLOWN MAKES MY MIND GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. The sheer autism I have for this guy is unreal. His laugh, his design, his obsession with Peppino, his weird motivations... HE'S NUTS AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

Pillar John - Uh... I like his hat? I mostly find John intimidating due to his sheer size and that damned Meatophobia music that plays when you go near him...

Gerome - He has a neat design. I've seen some interesting fan art of him hooking up with pretty girls who are much taller than he is. Good for him, honestly.

BONUS: Maurice Spaghetti - He looks like Peppino but with more hair and facial hair... in other words, handsome. Too bad his personality is utterly abysmal!

[astarab1aze]

➥ Uniquely Human

⸻Technical Information. // Face, Voice, etc.

01. Faceclaim. Chiharu  [ Kamisama no Uroko ] 04. Voice Claim. Kim Bum

⸻Profile Information. // Name, Age, etc.

01. Name. Seong Min-Joon [ L/F; 成敏俊 (hanja) or 성민준, meaning ‘succeed’ (last name) and ‘clever, handsome’ (first name) ] 02. Alias. M.J. 03. Sex. Male 04. Gender. Male 05. Age. 26 06. Birth Date. June 7th   [ Gemini ] 07. Blood Type. A 08. Race. Human, Asian-American ; Japenese-Korean, emigrated from South Korea 09. Marital Status. Single (for now) 10. Orientation. Bisexual  [ Demiromantic ] 11. Residence. Solarium, Hunter’s Point, Long Island NY, just on the other side of the East River.

⸻Physical Information. // Body, Equipment, Family, etc.

17. Physical Description. Standing at 5'10", he is about average in height. His hair is a rich, dark brown with much darker and redder undertones in the right lights, which he habitually cuts once every other year. He keeps it up in a low bun with some fly-aways on his lazier days, otherwise it’s in a high, neat bun - or, when cut, combed forward into a typical ‘young idol’ fashion. He keeps active, though he isn’t particularly athletic, so he comes across as wiry but lean. He may slouch from time to time, but, for the most part, he stands with his back straight and his shoulders back. His eyes are sharp and narrow, observant, and are plain brown in color. He’s been known to sport a little facial hair from time to time, though he likes to keep a clean shave. He has a rather delightful smile, despite some aspects of his personality - a little deceptive and quietly malicious. He wears Nice clothes most of the time, from suits to the stereotypical 'wealthy’ vacation wear, but in his down time, he’ll wear simple hoodies and sweatpants like anyone else.

13. Equipment. On his person, he keeps: His camera, laptop, cell phone, wallet, car keys, a pocket knife, and a paper-copy of his portfolio. 14. Occupation. Photographer and model in both South Korea and the United States. 15. Job Performance. Highly valued, the circus would dissolve without her hard work.Without her, they would never have made it out of Salem’s Crossing to New York or Chimachi. 16. Parents. Seong Ji-yeun and Seong Hyung-min, both of which are still married and happily so in South Korea. Seong Ji-yeun is Ikari Makoto’s half-sister. 17. Siblings. Seong Eunseo (21), Ikari Mineko (Deceased), Ikari Mineo (25).

⸻Personality Information. // Likes, Strengths, etc.

18. Likes. His jobs, flirting, dancing, traveling, occasional splurge on 7/11 ramen, green tea, grapefruit, milk tea, money, winter time, etc. 19. Dislikes. Dishonesty, most of his Japanese family, Mineo, living alone, licorice, pizza, metal music, horses, cigarette smoke, the smell of whiskey, most coffees, hot weather, bad weather, stubbornness, people who get attached, etc.

20. Positive Traits. Strong-willed, thoughtful, giving and stubbornly helpful when it comes to friends, encouraging, tells it like he sees it, accommodating. 21. Negative Traits. Sharp-tongued, sly, manipulative, selfish, moody, vain, prideful, will lose himself in his work for months, once he decides on something it is near impossible to change his mind, distrustful. 22. Goals. To reach a certain level of popularity in the modeling and photography industries the world over. While this isn’t as important to him as even he thinks it is, it serves as an adequate distraction from the hollowness of his life. 23. Desires. As above, so below. He actively distracts himself from what he wants most and that is, simply, to find someone to trust or even to love, be it a friend or a lover. He doesn’t want to feel bitter or lonely. 24. Alignment. Chaotic Neutral

25. Personality. He shares many traits with his brother, Mineo, in that he’s the type to keep people at arm’s length, even his friends or what few people he may think of as 'close’. He’s incredibly stubborn and hardheaded, often making decisions he’ll stand by till whatever ends he deems necessary, regardless of evidence proving him wrong (this mostly applies to first impressions of people). His work ethic is on par with his cousin’s and will frequently lose himself in it for weeks, months even, often ceasing to contact his friends. He will do what he can to get what he wants and, usually, through charm and follow-through, he’s able to accomplish as much. Sometimes a charming smile and a little effort isn’t enough and for those battles, he chooses not to fight. He’s better at picking his battles than he is at being a friend. He is notorious for one-night stands and doesn’t seem keen on changing that as he dislikes the idea of commitment or even intimacy. He is distrustful so he does not feel he can ever be fully honest with anyone. Moreover, despite his family’s differences, he is still quite heartbroken over the loss of his sister, Mineko, suggesting an inability to let go of hardships he’s faced directly or indirectly.

⸻Sorcery Information. // Affinity, Talent, etc.

26. Affinity. Not Applicable 27. Shapeshifting. Not applicable 28. Utility. Not Applicable 29. Specialization. Non Applicable 30. Graduate School. Not Applicable 31. Classification. Human

⸻Background Information. // Past to Present.

     When directly comparing his life with Mineo’s, Min-Joon knows he hasn’t been through enough to necessarily constitute the bitterness and hollowness he feels on a day-to-day basis. He doesn’t regularly see dead bodies and he didn’t lose his parents to a sadistic serial killer. However, he did lose members of his family, and one of them was one he loved so dearly in early childhood. Before the family fell apart, Makoto would visit South Korea rather frequently, even after she’d moved with Akira to New York, and she would spend much of her time with him and his mother, Ji-Yeon.

     In this time, he came to know his aunt very well and would even get excited whenever he’d hear that she was coming to visit. She would bring him gifts from holidays and birthdays she’d missed and would tell him stories in her sing-song voice, muttering her typical haiku at bed-time. In a way, she had almost become a second mother to him, despite how little he’d seen her by comparison.

     But his mother had a certain bitterness of her own and while she loved her sister, his aunt, so, too, had she hated her, and he had to watch it all unfold the final time Makoto would visit - and hear it nearly every day since. It was jealousy that gripped Ji-yeon and as she threw the gift Makoto had brought her for her birthday down on the hardwood of the family home, she would scream - harshly - that her sister was foolish, running off to New York to be with a man who couldn’t bear what it meant to be a family, what it meant to be a father, and how could she be satisfied with half-truths and the lowly job of a nurse? Why was she satisfied with a liar? How could she not want to be a doctor, a surgeon? It was, in this moment, that their relationship as sisters had fallen apart, but as time dribbled on, Min-Joon came to understand that neither his mother nor his aunt were to blame, but Akira.

     He’d learned of a truth anyone else might be desperate to forget. As he grew older, he was able to recognize a lie, a secret, a half-truth, and it made him uneasy. How could Akira do this to not only his family, but Min-Joon’s? How could Akira sneak around behind Makoto’s back and father another son, allow another man to raise him, and not take responsibility for any of it?

     When news of his aunt’s death reached him, finally, at an age his parents believed he might be able to handle it (14), he could feel only a sharp sadness, one that made him feel heavy and…alone. Altogether, he’d found himself in a pit, angry at his parents for having kept it from him for six years, and angrier still that Akira had died along with her before he could ever have a chance to ask him what was going through his head, why he’d hurt so many people without regret. His cousins - or, rather, his siblings - had not fared well throughout any of this either, and he felt, now, that it was his duty to find something, anything, that might allow him to see them in New York, to be there with them.

     And, so, he buttoned up, swallowed his emotions and began an early career in photography and modeling. It wasn’t particularly difficult for him. In fact, he took to it like a fish to water, quickly rising in popularity. It wasn’t until he turned about 20 years old that he’d finally managed to move over to New York, yet the only sibling he could manage to contact was Mineko. He couldn’t bear to tell her the truth, not yet, and so he’d focused only on getting to know her under the pretense that she was his cousin, apologizing for her loss and only now being able to come see her. For a time, he kept it to himself, hoping to speak to Mineo at least once before he’d gather his courage to tell them at once, but Mineo proved impossible to reach. “Buried in work,” Mineko would say, a tear in her eye.

     Min-Joon grew even more bitter.

     Set to inherit a Korean law firm, and more money than anyone could ever dream of, he has done nothing but forge his own path, live his own life, because the life his mother and 'father’ had built for him was not truly his. He couldn’t stand it - and he’d hated it more and more knowing who he was, knowing he had other siblings, knowing who his father was. It was all one slap in the face after another and it disgusted him.

     Now that Mineko is gone, left to rot in the ground, he is angry - and Mineo would bear the brunt of it all.

[randomnameless]

Do you think Ionius was like Garon and only looks ugly during the game proper due to old age plus immense stress, but was ridiculously attractive in his youth? Or do you think he always looked mediocre and only got so many lovers solely due to his status?

This is lowkey just a poorly-disguised “Ionius appearance HCs” ask since Big I doesn't even have a Cipher card to prove that he was actually hot back in the day, unlike Garon lol

Ionius (AU) appreciation hours??? Resurgence of the dilfcourse?

Go ahead anon!

Garon looking like... he does in the Cipher cards was a welcome surprise lol, but no matter how handsome or fuckable he was, you can't honestly erase the "status" part of his appeal - Garon was the King, his wives vyed first and foremost for power.

As for Ionius... well, given that he wanted to remove the "give me your daughter/sister and I'll give you some privileges!" card to replace it with "give me your sisters/daughters and cry", idk if he would have gotten lovers due to his looks, and not, rather, picked lovers because he could, as the Emperor.

Appearance wise - I was so very disappointed when Nopes revealed the Adrestian dads looked like, well, how they look. but uh faerghus doesn't fare better have you seen rodrigue's facial hair???

Still, HC is HC, so maybe Ionius wouldn't have looked too shabby, not on par with Cipher!Garon, of course, but he kept his beard, had natural brown hair but no purple eyes (Supreme Leader got them from the Arundel side of the family... that would be distantly related to the Hresvelg family, thanks to Willy and his 120 children, or just, 1000 years of Hresvelg genes spreading in Adrestia). Oh, and his hair was maybe a tad shorter?

I still think Ionius wasn't very martial, sure the Golden Armor was supposed to be passed down from Adrestian Emperors to Adrestian Emperors, but I don't think Ionius ever saw a battlefield, or used weapons himself (he had Leopold "I am a living retcon!" von Bergliez for that!), maybe he'd have been more of a magic oriented unit?

So appearance wise, Ionius wasn't buff but he was more, uh, in shape than the Ionius we see. He looked alright (which is already a big up compared to some other Adrestian dads) but personality wise... well.

[usagimen]

    (h.c // meta)  Beautiful faces painted in white, accented by the moon, Clan Kobayashi utters their mantra; only in the darkness can the truth be revealed. Light is forbidden, for it brings no solace && serves only to blind them. Beauty is a fabrication of the heart’s desires && perverse yearning, in a world of willow && flowers, every young girl must know their role. When a child is born within the lineage their fate is determined by birth from the elders. Ruled by a Matriarch, who becomes the next head is considered unorthodox. 

      One must show their might && determination, only then can the lowest among them ascend to greatness. No one has a birth claim, that nonsense is swiftly denounced when a girl is young, but historically that is how life within an Okiya was. The Geisha ruled the house, if she was appointed the surname of the owner, she held power && that is how Clan Kobayashi operates. In all of Gion, they are the most renowned Okiya who produce infamous Geikos, the modern day treasure is Sayuri’s auntie - Hatsuko. She is considered fearsome among Jushiki Sorcerer’s, scathing with her penetrating ruby eyes && autumn colored hair, she bears little desire to speak with others of her kind thus meetings are short && to the point.

   At the age of nineteen, she successfully made her name as a sorcerer && entertainer, enough that she funded the  entire clan, making her the most profitable. Her blood is that of Nure-Onna, thus she is heavily referred to as a ‘viper’ with no love in her heart, except for her biological niece who she considers a daughter. Hatsuko is rigid in staunch traditional beliefs, unbending && hissing in disgust when those ‘lesser’ speak to her. She is quick to remind everyone, know your place. Though under her reign, Clan Kobayashi has found peace, they are united && hold the belief only those of their blood may enter their secretive world. Men are generally chosen from higher families in arranged marriages as many of the women will remark, it’s political. They often are tasked with the daily chores, while all the financial && business aspects are held by their wives, it has been this way for centuries. Sayuril will even attest, ever since their first Matriarch life has remained the same && it’s worked but she finds it archaic.

   While the family will swear they started as nothing more from the blood of a peasant girl, they refuse to acknowledge, she was a lethal weapon. In olden days, due to their beauty && poise, they were assassins for hire. Painted as courtesans, attendants, faithful lovers, only to strike when they must - their deception has kept them safe && is often instilled, beauty is a lie. Their inherited technique was used to camouflage themselves in order to blend in, by stealing the image of another or distorting the desires of their target, they took on the shape of whatever they wished. It operates solely on RTC, the first sign is when a girl is able to change her facial features. Many exploit it to enhance their physical image, even Sayuri is the same as she has lightened the hue of her original eye color to give it a ‘cosmic’ gaze. When a daughter is young, she is given the choice between entertainer or marriage, to embark on the path of a Geiko is also being trained in assinaition, though that isn’t told until one figures out - nothing is what it seems.

   For the few who break through this uniformity, they are famed for their blessings, most will attend school within Kyoto as Clan Kobayashi is renowned for never leaving their ancestral home. Sayuri’s life within Tokyo was an extension of goodwill, she was essentially, an offering to smooth over any ill bearings due to Tsukuyomi. Hence, she often snidely responded she was their bargaining chip to ensure that clan life functioned favorably, her life was out of her hands until she was within the city. Does Clan Kobayashi still practice murder for hire? Yes && no. It depends on the figure but most prefer to entertain now, making the kuro usagi the outlander for holding onto her position as a sorcerer, they find it adorable even if she finds it to be mocking. Children are often co-raised by multiple figures, thus everyone is ‘mother’ && ‘auntie’ it’s common for daughters to know their biological parents but have no involvement with them. It’s also extremely rare for a son to be born, they will quickly learn how to create kimono’s, style a Geiko / Maiko’s hair, how to run daily errands, cook && clean.

   The few who are exceptional will become kimono dressers which is hailed as honorable, even coveted. When one becomes Matriarch, she will earn her ‘white collared’ kimono, it is designed specifically for that figure, in Sayuri’s case hers was stitched in silver. The deepest black with images of cranes in mid flight, every robe is meant to depict a story, hers was that of wisdom && the reign of the Eclipse. She wears it loosely with no obi, only a sash && no underskirt / lining. There are no hair adornments she will take or jewels, her ascension was granted on the basis she was able to transcend the limitations of strength. Her indomitable spirit secured the position, as the elders declared despite her youth, a leader with a mind that is balanced && selfless will bring them prosperity. While it seems like a suffocating life, Sayuri does remark she loves all of her cousins, uncles && aunties.

   She can name each couple, child, and routinely venture the gigantic estate to visit each one. Unlike Hatsuko who is the blood of Nure-Onna, Sayuri is that of Hone-Onna, the bone woman. She likes to giggle with her auntie, will her smile become that of a skeleton? It is meant to symbolically represent she is the Maiden that Death adores. Life within Clan Kobayashi is rigid, it is unbearable at times && yet, they are meant to resemble the antithesis to the Zen’ins. They do not hold the seldom belief their own is to be thrown away when showing little promise. Instead, they uplift one another && find a place, because of this, they are remarkably deadly.

   To enter their estate is sacred, few can attest to ever seeing life behind the Okiya walls, where the gardens are meticulously handled && children are always laughing. Though, the women of Clan Kobayshi were kind enough to grant access to Sayuri’s then friends. Some even looked forward to it, the promise of a happy summer with new faces spirited by the rabbit they loved. 

[sarangbe]

[  🌹  ]  𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖌𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊 𝖆 𝖍𝖚𝖌 !

𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖌𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖓𝖊 /  FINALE SOLO— 𝖙𝖑𝖉𝖗 /  SARANG PERFORMS ❝ 𝖍𝖚𝖌 ❞ AS HIS FINAL CHALLENGE FOR NEXT GEN S1 ! 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 /  NO ONE SPECIFIC, ETC. 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 /  WRITTEN IN 𝟔𝟓𝟓 WORDS.

when this adventure began, sarang was convinced that he would be sent home very early on; if not round one, then definitely in round two. having been dropped from his former company just before embarking on this journey had him feeling unconfident in himself, but having a renewed attitude during the filming of “next gen” seems to have been the largest contributing factor to his current success. even though he still feels like he has a lot to improve upon, it doesn’t negate all of the progress that he’s made while here. now, instead of being somewhat tone-deaf, he’s trained his ear enough to consistently sing in-tune; he’s gotten rid of the leftover clumsiness in his body and has strengthened his coordination; he’s even picked up the very, very basic beginnings of rapping. he wouldn’t have gotten to do any of this had he not been offered the opportunity to appear on the show, so no matter what the final results are, he’s grateful for the experience, and is glad to be coming out of it with new skills, new friends, and even a small fanbase that’ll hopefully continue supporting him after the finale airs. he’s depending on them to continue boosting his image post-series, especially if an entertainment contract isn’t extended to him during the last episode.

in order to do that, however, he needs to put his whole heart into this performance—an original song that he, as well as the rest of his team, was given to wow the audience tuning in. lyrically, it’s about trying to apologize to a lover that’s been hurt, and the vibe of the set is innocent, and cute, and if there’s one thing that sarang knows he can do with no hesitation, it’s being adorable—his visual appeal and styling only amplifying those traits in him; his coppery hair curled perfectly and his outfit hugging his figure just right. that, and as the maknae of this unit, he feels a lot of pressure to maintain the winsome energy, and after days upon days of rehearsing, he’s finally ready to step on stage and impress the crowd with his vivid charms.

when the lights hit him and the beat booms through the speakers, he’s revealed as the central figure—immediately schmoozing with his expressions since he has the opening part, and therefore, needs to set the tone for the rest of the stage. facial acting is his strong suit, so he infuses a pitiful, yet cherubic, character into his lines; one he practiced for an embarrassing amount of time in front of the looking glass.

with each passing second, everything seems to be going off without a hitch. the choreography transitions are smooth; his motions are graceful, but bouncy when it matters; showmanship is at an all-time high as he pours every ounce of his heart, soul, and focus into creating a delicate impact on the stage. for most of the song, his voice is stable and characteristically his own—light, high-pitched, and delightful—but when the bridge arrives, he tries to belt out his line with more power, but instead, ends up going too far with his breath support; the note he hits being sharper than the one in the melody. those with ears for music, or those who also sing, are for sure able to hear his error, but those who don’t possess either skill may not really know the difference. that being said, he’s hoping the latter demographic is the majority.

wanting to make up for his mistake, he powers through the rest of the song with stunning smiles, well-timed winks, and when he sings his last line and once again takes his place in center formation, he blows the camera a kiss, then sends it finger-hearts; noticing that the hd-lens is focusing on him for an extended period of time.

with everything said and done, all he can do now is wait; hoping for the best.

[backstage-bucknell]

Come to the Show!

By: Katie Schadler 

Gross Indecency:

The Three Trials Of Oscar Wilde

By Moises Kaufman

Directed by Bryan M. Vandevender

Friday, Saturday, Monday March 31, April 1, 3 at 7:30pm

Sunday, April 2 at 2pm

Harvey M. Powers Theatre                                                  

$7 / $12 general admission ( Tickets )

“Over the course of three months in 1895, Oscar Wilde, Victorian England’s most celebrated author, lost his standing in British society as a result of three public court trials. The first was a libel suit that Wilde brought against the father of Lord Alfred Douglas, his lover, for labeling the author a “posing somdomite.” While the proceedings concluded with Wilde withdrawing his suit, the Crown proceeded to indict him for acts of “gross indecency with male persons.” The subsequent trials sought to brand Wilde’s sexuality as criminal. Compiled from court transcripts, newspaper articles, and other primary sources, Gross Indecency documents the public scandal born of the trials and demonstrates how acts of persecution, over one-hundred years old, continue to resonate today.”

Content warning: This play is based on a true story and includes strong language and mature content that some may find upsetting, including references to homophobia and sexuality.

If you want to be an usher for the show and get FREE tickets, you can show up 40 minutes before the performance time and help scan tickets. Sign up here

Bucknell Takes on Annual USITT Conference 

During spring break, students from Bucknell’s technical theatre department Alice Jackins, Joe Dox, and Evelyn Pierce attended the annual United States Institute for Theatre Technology (USITT) conference in St. Louis, Missouri. At the conference, various theatre students, professionals, companies, and organizations had the opportunity to network with each other in the realm of theatre design and production, bringing together all of the hidden faces who are responsible for the magic we witness on stage.  

On USITT’s expo-floor, attendees could walk around to different tables and listen to companies advertise their products or promote graduate school, internships, and job opportunities. The other floor of the conference was designated for workshops run by professors and other professionals along with various informative panels hosted by collegiate theatre departments like Yale University or companies like Disney and Cirque du Soleil. Hands-on workshops ranged from learning to craft fake facial hair to incorporating artificial intelligence into sound design. Throughout the conference, professionals were not just strictly manning their own stations but also had the chance to embody the role of the learner and engage in a form of communal education.

Learning to run the lighting board from her dad at the early age of eight, Theatre and Women and Gender Studies major Alice Jackins’ happy place has always been backstage. During the conference, Alice enjoyed exploring the city with her peers and meeting other artists at the social events. After meeting people of various backgrounds and lifestyles, she learned that there is not just one singular path to success in theatre. With a particular love for stage managing, directing, and lighting design, Alice would love to work anywhere from the regional theatre scene to Broadway! While she may not be a visual artist, being able to play with color and intensity through light design has given her the artistic liberty to paint a picture of her own. 

Also raised in a theatre family, Evelyn Pierce wants to continue exploring the secrets behind the magic of technical theatre. As a Theatre and Studio Art double major, Evelyn enjoys mingling these passions through hands-on projects, particularly scenic painting and construction. At the conference, she had the chance to engage in “The Paint Challenge” where she had to recreate an image in three hours with a paintbrush attached to a bamboo stick. Learning about the variety and legitimacy of possibilities within the industry, Evelyn hopes to pursue a career in scenic painting. In love with the dynamic between actors and technicians, Evelyn hopes to continue working among the space and the people she calls home. 

As a Computer Engineering major, Joe Dox appreciates the technology behind the scenes that allow shows to appear seamless. Whether he is learning about the inner workings of consoles or looking toward LED lights or AI as the future of technology, Joe is intrigued by the intersection of engineering and theatre and the applicability each discipline has on the other. Through capturing the industry at its fullest, the conference showed Joe the inherent versatility of technical theatre that comes with each day. He found it particularly memorable to not just watch professionals from the outside but to be actively involved in the conversations and connect with others’ love for lighting and sound. As someone who prefers the space behind the curtain rather than in front of it, Joe finds sanctity in the anonymity of technical theatre and pride in creating something that brings people joy without the presence of direct recognition: The chance to make art in a way where a piece of it will only ever always belong to you.  

Bucknell Alum Adapts Veera Hiranandani’s YA Novel The Night Diary 

Back in late 2018, Bucknell theatre graduate Mukta Phatak was approached by Bucknell Theatre Department’s Prof. Anjalee Deshpande Hutchinson to write the script for a potential play adaptation of Veera Hiranandani’s The Night Diary. More than five years later, directed by Hutchinson and written by Phatak, the show recently debuted at The Children’s Theatre of Charlotte in North Carolina.

The Night Diary tells the story of twelve-year-old twins who are growing up amid the Partition of 1947 that leaves the formerly British-occupied subcontinent into a predominantly Hindu India and Muslim Pakistan. Because their father is Hindu, the former India and current Pakistan becomes an unsafe environment for the family, forcing their migration to India. All at once, the family must navigate the struggles of displacement and discover that homes are not so much places as they are people. 

Originally a book written for ten to fifteen year olds, the script had to capture such a traumatic time period through the eyes of a kid. Having taught youth playwriting classes and having acted in children’s theater productions as an equity actress after graduation, Mukta knew what kids responded to, focusing less on the heavy historical details and more on engaging dialogue and action-driven scenes. By shedding light on a significant time period in South Asian culture, she hoped to catalyze later conversations among the family and in the classroom, specifically after young children have just witnessed the destructive qualities of the pandemic. 

Primarily working as an actor after graduation, Mukta says it was difficult for her to surrender a kind of ‘direct control’ and learn to trust that her words would translate to an audience. She found it particularly rewarding to create onstage representation for South Asian students in the audience and to have the opportunity for her first professional production as a playwright to encapsulate the story of her own culture that has often been left otherwise untold. The play was ultimately a huge success, as Veera Hiranandani herself, the author of The Night Diary, not only attended the show but told Mukta afterwards that it “captured the essence of her book.”

Mukta felt that her time at Bucknell prepared her for this first project. Through Katie Hayes’ Poetry 300 Class, she learned how to effectively revise and edit, bringing this information into how she would edit each scene. Bucknell Backstage with Mark Hutchinson and Heath Hansum taught her to consider the logistics relevant to costume or lighting designers when writing the script. Finally, Mukta shouts out Creative Writing faculty Joe Scapellato to whom she would send the scenes she was working on for advice - even long after she graduated. 

Working professionally alongside Anjalee, a mentor she has been close to since her holistic Devised Theatre experience during Bucknell, has allowed her to have a mutual partner in this process as well as another South Asian woman to depend on when entering predominantly white spaces. She is optimistic that this is not the last time the pair will be working together.

In the future, Mukta wants to continue to pursue theatre at the local level, traveling to different communities, uncovering that community’s story or issue, and making a show about it. In addition to submitting more of her ideas to playwright fellowships, she looks toward getting The Night Diary produced at other theaters, for every new actor, audience, and atmosphere can change the nature of the show. Mukta is drawn to theatre for the reason that the same script can be performed a million different ways. 

To the graduating seniors, Mukta urges you to find your community and begin building it. Once you find the people you can creatively align with, you are able to find agency in your individual voice.  

Visit the website to learn more: https://ctcharlotte.org/Online/default.asp?doWork::WScontent::loadArticle=Load&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::article_id=41C9EF1E-3E7D-4458-91EE-177E76F6A3C0&gclid=Cj0KCQjww4-hBhCtARIsAC9gR3bWYqlmSpkURYcMkFstz6h_4Vc5LcVgdMc9nf3_iT_mLNqXtnh6xjsaAknwEALw_wcB .

[replicantdeviancy]

rking200 asked: " hey, look at me. i don't care. are you okay ? " (blood prompt; Hank to Connor)

@rking200 || BLOOD, BLOOD, GALLONS OF THE STUFF !  || Accepting

Somewhere at the edges of his overloaded senses, Connor could feel cold rain against his face, sprinkling faint yet sharp prickles of ice on his synthetic skin. It gathered in his hair, soaked slowly into the fabric of his clothing. Slowly, he began to recognize that chill extended beyond the superficial layer of his dark blazer. His posterior was wet with rainwater, his back. Through the numbed panic of his overwhelmed sensory system, he could feel arms around him, thick & strong. A larger frame hovering over his, warm breath on his face, body heat against his. A voice, frightened & deepened with that familiar timbre. Hank. Hank was holding him. He was trying to get his attention. Connor’s thoughts slowly came into focus as that handsome visage finally registered, facial recognition software activating without his direct permission. 

Analyzing…

LT. ANDERSON, HANK Born: 09/06/1985 // Police Lieutenant Criminal Record: None

“Hank…” His own voice sounded foreign to him, barely recognizable to his audio processing units. The dusky cadence of his manufactured voice was muddled with stress, shaky in a way he hadn’t heard before. It took precious seconds to recognize that he was on the ground, that not all of the wetness soaking into his clothing was from the summer storm. His quickened pseudo-breaths produced a soft, barely audible wheeze, faint but present in his chest. But it wasn’t the sound that alarmed him, rather the sensation it accompanied. Never had the android imagined he would experience what it felt like to be short of breath, as it was a mostly unnecessary feature. Just something built in for cosmetic purposes, a secondary cooling system to expel built up heat around his biocomponents. Yet that was exactly how it felt. Every time he inhaled, the hollows of his chest cavity did not fill to capacity. It scared him.

Only in those threadbare seconds did the android come to the realization that he had been shot. The wetness soaking his shirt & trickling down his back was his own thirium. That hideous wheezing was air escaping the hole in his chest.

His slender hands gripped at his partner’s shirt, his hands, warm & solid. They sought that stability as his mind raced & the pieces of his cognition slowly came together in the wake of what he understood to have been a burst of anxiety. Fear. He had been afraid. He was still afraid. That fear showed in the way he looked at Hank, hazelnut eyes wide & desperate for answers. He needed comfort, but he also wanted to apprehend their suspect. The sirens in the distance said that they weren’t the only two in pursuit, but it was that unyielding programming of his that told the android to keep going, to catch their target. Hunt. He was built to hunt.

He had told Hank as much, told him to leave him behind & go after their suspect. He was getting away! They couldn’t let him get away! Connor didn’t want to fail his mission.

But when Hank took his chin in his big hand, held him close as he did & all but demanded his attention, Connor couldn’t help him submit. He was just a machine, after all. A slave to the orders of a human. No, not a machine. Someone who was loved. Someone who was cared for, who was worried after. Hank was scared for him - he could see it in his eyes, in his expression. Tension drawing his strong brow taught, deepening the wrinkles of his forehead. Stress tightening his jaw. He was afraid for him. He needed his partner to be alright.

It was a grounding thing, that need. Slowly, Connor let that solid human warmth soothe him & he let out a small, shivering noise. Almost a whimper, not quite a moan. His arms wrapped around his lover’s shoulders & he commanded his diagnostic program to run a targeted scan.

The damage was marginal, the shot having gone through cleanly. Judging by the size of the entry wound in comparison to the exit, the round had been armor-piercing, a .38 special from a modified handgun. The types of rounds that had once been used against ballistics armor. Connor considered for a moment how grateful he should have been that it was he who had been shot. If Hank had— 

“I’m okay…” He didn’t sound too convincing. He tried again. “Fuck, I can’t breathe…” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them, but the look in his eyes said that he was no worse for wear. He held onto his partner a little bit tighter, forcing himself to breathe, to calm down. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he was trembling. “It’s not bad. I promise,” he tried to reassure. He brought his knees up to curl a little into himself. He wanted to sit up, but he couldn’t make himself break the contact he had with Hank. “This will close on it’s own. The bleeding will stop eventually." Thirium didn’t clot like blood, but the bioplastic that made up Connor’s exoframe was self-mending to an extent. Within a few hours, everything would be fine. He just needed a moment.

[carolynterryskincare]

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[diggsgraves]

PICTURES, DISHES AND SOCKS. eight years down to one box. they went through every room of their house, their home, together and separate until they got to this moment. it was all jasper could bring himself to keep, out of everything they went through. even his clothes were too heavy to carry, each shirt soaked through with the memories of their relationship. they would go into storage with everything else. they agreed to pay for a year of the unit in full through the end of the calendar year so they could each get settled into their new homes. their new lives away from each other.

"i think that's it," he said, breaking the silence when it got too loud. he finally lifted his gaze from the box to look silas' way. he almost wished he hadn't. almost. he set the box down on the bed, still unmade from the last time they slept in it together like a time capsule of the end of their relationship. he couldn't bring himself to make it, and neither could silas. they didn't sleep in it either, hadn't for a long time. the divorce was a long time coming. he ran a hand over his facial hair that was too long to pass for a five o'clock shadow. it was wild and unkempt, a far cry from the clean cut he was used to.

icarus flew too close to the sun, and their marriage paid the price, going up in flames and burying jasper and silas in the ashes of love lost. he didn't know who made the move, but suddenly they were standing face to face, an arms length away from each other. jasper could reach out and touch him if he wanted to, and god did he want to. he wanted nothing more than to wrap silas up in a hug and take all his pain away. he tried to do that for a long time, but it was never enough. he was never enough. he couldn't fix his husband— his ex husband, but he tried, and he tried, and he tried, until he couldn't anymore. until he realized that silas didn't want to be fixed.

he studied his lover, taking in the every tired line etched into his beautiful face, the dark circles shaded under his eyes in permanent marker. he was paler now, face gaunt, hair greying more every day. physical signs that he was fighting demons jasper couldn't even begin to understand. he couldn't take it anymore. he gave in, closing the gap between them. he wrapped both arms around silas hugging him for seconds or minutes, weeks could have passed in that moment and he would have been none-the-wiser. time stopped moving when they embraced for what he could feel in his bones would be the last time. when he finally pulled away, his nose brushed against the other's before he selfishly went in for one last kiss — a goodbye kiss that wasn't his to take. / @silasgraves

[the-khajiit-bard]

Rating NPCs that I wish were spouse options in Skyrim (specifically for switch which can’t do mods 🙃):

Gwilin - sunshiney elf boy, very chipper, very cute - 7/10

Serana - sassy beautiful vampire lady - 8.5/10

Ralof - best friend to lovers trope, imperial kicking ass couple, golden retriever energy - 8.5/10

Nazir - dark sense of humor, loyal, has romantic-esque dialogue that makes me swoon, can obviously cook - 9.5/10

Brynjolf - ultimate thief couple, lovely accent, weak spot for a red headed man with facial hair - 8/10

Falk Firebeard - handsome, friendly steward, seems like he would be fun in the bedroom (secretly) - 9/10

Literally any Khajiit NPC - but ESPECIALLY Jzargo - 9/10

Arnbjorn - I know he’s married to Astrid but let’s be honest, he deserves better - grumpy but lovable wolf man - 8.5/10

Veezara - Argonians simply do not get enough love, he took on a whole unit of Solitude’s guards so I could escape - 9.5/10

Idgrod the Younger - pretty cute, quiet but friendly, just wants the best for her younger brother - 7/10

Teldryn - if you’ve come across him, you already know - 8.5/10

Which NPCs do you wish were marriage options? I’m really curious so let me know!

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.1

Pt.2   Pt.3   Pt.4   Pt.5   Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, arranged marriage plot, kinda royal au, some fighting, secret relationship, angst.

a/n: This is going to be a six part series. I’ve never done a series before, but I write so much anyway I thought why not make one. I’ll probably upload each part daily unless there is demand for them to come faster. I hope you enjoy. Requests/asks will be open if you wanna send smth to me! Although I will admit I am kinda slow in finishing requests. I have a lot to balance in my life so my apologies if I don’t get to them immediately!  

Word count: 1.8K

Loki x female!reader 

The sun shone through the window of your home, the golden rays warming up your cheeks and waking you from your slumber. Sitting up, you stretched, feeling the sleep vibrate out of your body. Tossing the sheets off your body, you swung your legs out of the bed and walked to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Finishing with tending to the mass of hair on your head you trailed back into your bedroom to change into clothes appropriate for the day. An array of dresses always leaving you indecisive about what to wear.

Settling on an olive green one you walked towards the mirror and fastened the ties around the back of your neck. The loose sleeves draped over your shoulders, cascading down your back, and gold accents adorning the neckline. Finding your shoes, you slipped out of your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and walked down the hallway, the chatter of your family becoming more clear as you near the entrance of the main room. 

 “Good morning, mother. Father.”

It seemed you had slept in quite a bit, given your parents already eating breakfast. Your mother piped up

“There’s a portion left for you on the counter, my dear.”

Eying the food you decided you weren’t all that hungry yet. You had just woken up and your body had yet to settle. Declining, you grabbed your satchel and began to walk towards the door.

“But Y/N, you should really eat something before starting your day.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise. I’m just not that hungry right now. I’ll eat when I get back.”

Finally reaching the door, your father chimed in,

“You know, Y/N, just because you try to avoid the obvious, doesn’t mean it’s going to go away any sooner.”

Dropping your head, you sighed. You couldn’t seem to escape the duties of being a young woman in a world where royal obligations were something you were expected to partake in. Upon reaching the age of 18, you were supposed to be on the lookout for a decent suitor of a husband. The fact of the matter was, you were now approaching 22 and had yet to find someone acceptable, not only by your standards but by your parents. 

For this uniting of peoples would also be a uniting of families. You had until your 21st birthday to find a man suitable to everyone's liking and if you didn’t, arranged marriage was the next option. No one wanted to be known as the woman in Asgard who couldn’t get a man to offer his hand in marriage, yet here you were in all your glory. It was frustrating. 

If only they knew. 

“I know, Dad. Things are a little bit harder when I have to seek my parents' approval for my marriage.”

Your tone became short, frustrated at the entire situation. You already had someone, for a while now actually, but you hadn’t the guts to inform your parents because you knew they would shut him down. So you loved in silence. It was more than painful, not being able to be truly open with your lover, but you had yet to find the right time to pour out your heart to your family. Taking a deep breath, your grounded yourself and turned towards the door,

“I’ll be back later, I love you.”

Your mom got to responding before your father did,

“We love you too dear. Make sure to pay attention to who you’re around. Be safe.”

Smiling lightly you finally walked out the door and stepped into the fresh air that was Asgard. It never got old. The scent of the trees and freshwater that surrounded this place sent one into such serenity. Just being outside could allow your mind to drift elsewhere and forget about the troubles in your life. Walking as far as you could from your home you spaced out in the direction you were going. 

Coming back to when you accidentally kicked a pebble across the ground. Looking up you found yourself in one of the many gardens that surrounded Asgard. Walking to a marble bench, you scrunched up some of your dress in your hands, folding one leg under you before sitting atop it. Crossing your other leg across it and letting the fabric of your dress fall to the ground. 

Pulling your satchel into your lap, you grabbed your journal out of it and began to sketch the garden in front of you. Paying special attention to the detail of the flowers, wanting to make sure you entirely captured the essence of their beauty on paper. Lost in concentration, you failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a hand rub small circles into your shoulder that you turned around. 

Hair fell in your face, obscuring your view of who was in front of you. Bringing your hand up to place your hair away from your face you dropped your pen on the ground. You went to reach for it, but a separate pair of hands grabbed it first.

“You seem to be quite the mess today, my darling.”

A genuine smile stretched across your features before looking up into the enchanting blue of his eyes. 

“Loki, hi! What are you doing out here?”

Sitting down next to you, careful to avoid your dress he spoke,

“Well, I was informed that a beautiful lady was sitting in the garden in front of the palace so of course, I had to go inspect the situation. And upon seeing a stunning shade of green draped over the bench, I had to introduce myself.” 

An airy laugh left your throat, blithe being showcased across your being.

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you fancy this beautiful woman.”

“How could I not? Her beauty extends beyond the physical. She's incredibly intelligent and the only one to unconditionally show kindness and love to those who deserve it. It’d be incredibly injudicious of me to not be aware of that.”

“Alright, alright Loki, you’ve buttered me up enough.” you chuckled

“It’s never enough, darling. And it’s not buttering you up if it’s true, which it is. So, against your wishes, I shall continue to do it.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. Looking down at his hands, you placed yours on top of his and gazed into his eyes once more. Glancing down to his lips and back up to his eyes, you slowly leaned in, Loki meeting you halfway. A kiss so tender you forgot it was Loki whose lips were tangled in a dance with your own. 

Loki moved his hand out from underneath yours and placed it on your cheek. You pulled away from the kiss and nestled your head into his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek allowing you to relish in the moment of being with each other. Flashing your eyes back up to his you asked,

“Shall we go for a walk?”

“Why not?”

Stuffing your journal and pen back into your satchel you untangled your legs and got up from the bench, Loki helping you stand up so that you didn’t trip on your dress. Taking your hand in his own, you two walked through the garden on a path that would eventually lead you to the entrance of the palace. 

“I’ve missed you Loki. I always miss you, I hate being away from you.”

“I know my love, I do as well, but you of all people know our predicament.”

You stopped in your tracks and turned in haste to stop him as well, making him face you. You brought both your hands up to cup his face, an idea flashing bright behind your eyes,

“Well, maybe we can change it! We can be the change to get rid of this stupid rule. I can’t imagine my life without you Loki. I don’t want to have to share my world with someone else. It’s only ever going to be you.” 

Bringing his hands up to your wrists, he looked deep into your eyes, sorrow and hope swimming behind his facial features. 

“Maybe we can, although we have to prepare for the worst...but that doesn't mean we can’t try.”

Giving a small smile, he moved his hands to the back of your head, thumb caressing your temple, and leaned in to kiss you. Giving you all the reassurance you could’ve asked for. Pulling away from each other you continued down the path hand in hand. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, serenity washing over you. 

Opening your eyes, you realized you were closing in on the front of the palace meaning you would now be in the public eye and the last thing you wanted was more gossip to fall upon you. Looking at your lover, you stopped walking, halting him in his tracks. Forcing him to turn around and look at you.

“What is it?”

You sighed, suddenly being overcome with emotion.

“Well, if we walked any further, everyone would see us and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you…”

“...Trouble? For me?”

Loki scoffed, his signature smirk following.

“Love, all I’m known for is for causing trouble, I wouldn’t mind another notch on my belt.”

You were hesitant. You loved Loki and you knew your feelings were reciprocated through him, but it was difficult breaking from the chains of what you ‘were supposed to do’. It left you in such dissonance and yet you felt in your heart to rebel so fiercely that Asgard would immortalize your change. Your silence alerted Loki and he spoke again,

“Y/N, if we are to ever make any sort of change we cannot hide in the shadows anymore. We cannot separate and scatter like roaches when the light is shined upon us. We must bask in it. That is the only way we can possibly aspire to reach our goal of loving one another in true fulfillment.”

“You’re right.”

“I always am.”

You placed your hand back in his and Loki smiled down at you. 

“Ready to have the target on your back, Y/N?”

“As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.”

Walking out of the secluded area of the garden, you finally stepped into the light. For the first time in the last year being open about your courtship with Loki. Asgard’s God of Mischief and your parent’s worst nightmare. You felt armored for anything to be hurled in your direction with Loki was by your side and always would be. 

The anxiety of it all had yet to drain from your bones and you couldn’t help but draft up ‘what ifs’ in your head. As if Loki was scavenging through your brain, he gave your hand an inspiriting squeeze, bringing you back into your body and out of your head. If only you knew how the whispers of your choice in partnership would rain the fires of hell all too soon.

[erin-bo-berin]

Enemies Closer

MASTERLIST

Happy smutty Spencer Saturday! This fic has been hidden in the depths of my brain for way too long. I knew I wanted to do an enemies to lover fic for a while but didn’t have much more for it until recently. The title comes from the famous saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

I want to say a big thank you to all of my followers who sent in quips, jabs and bantery remarks. I tried to use them all because they were all so wonderful. Thank you to @dreatine @andiebeaword @sammy-jo1977 @redbullchick and the numerous anons who contributed. Also a big thank you to @multifandommandy for coming up with the idea of the reader interviewing the little girl, it really helped move the story along and add to it. I appreciate all your ideas and help 💕

Okay, enjoy the 10k words of sassy, smutty Spencer Reid. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 10,088

Spencer was walking back to his desk when he heard JJ’s voice.

“Really? When?”

There was a pause on her end of the phone conversation. She looked up and saw Spencer, immediately waving him over.

Spencer’s interest was piqued. He wondered what was going on, especially since there was a huge grin on her face. He approached her desk just as JJ spoke again.

“That sounds great, mom. I can’t wait.”

Spencer smiled. JJ and her mom were extremely close and he always looked forward to her visits—she made the best triple chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. He opened his mouth to tell her to say hi from him, when she practically read his mind.

“By the way Spencer says hi.” 

JJ shot him a wink, grinning at the fact that she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was about to say. He chuckled to himself. They definitely were close enough to know what one another was thinking.

“Sounds good. See you then. Bye.”

JJ hung up her phone, turning in her chair to face him fully.

“Is your mom coming to visit?”

“She is,” JJ smiled, “And she’s bringing your favorite triple chocolate chip cookies.”

“Bless that woman,” he chuckled.

“There’s also something else,” JJ trailed off nervously, a flicker of worry in her blue eyes.

“What?”

“Y/N’s visiting too...and she’s kinda stuck with me, or well us for the next week. So if we get a case, she’s coming with us.”

Spencer groaned loudly.

“Why?”

“Mom has a business seminar in downtown D.C. and you know Will took the boys to Disney World this week. I’m not going to make her sit at home alone for a week.”

“Why? It would be for the greater good of humanity. I’ll even be willing to chip in for a hotel room for her,” Spencer said, hoping JJ would actually take him up on the offer, “Particularly one across the country.” 

“Spencer,” JJ eyed him warily, “Emily already said it was okay. She knows to stay out of the way while we work.”

“Yet she’s always in my way.”

“Spence, she’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?” she asked.

“Last time she visited she “accidentally” spilled an entire pot of coffee on my favorite work shirt!” Spencer protested.

“Just like you “accidentally” locked her in an interrogation room?” JJ raised a brow.

Yeah, that hadn’t been his finest moment. But she had driven him crazy that day.

“She wandered in there on her own. I was just helping the situation along,” he shrugged innocently.

“You’re lucky she didn’t burn the building down,” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she pushed me to my limit that day. Sorry.”

“What is it with you two? You fight worse than her and I ever did.”

“She’s annoying, rude and drives me crazy. I honestly can’t believe she’s your sister, let alone related to you. JJ, you know I love you, but I just can’t stand her. We’re just two completely different people that probably will never get along.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in defeat, “At least try to be on your best behavior?”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Hey, look at it this way. At least you get cookies,” she stood, patting his arm before walking away.

He was positive even cookies wouldn’t make up for this.

•

“Y/N while you’re here, can you please try to be nice to your sister’s coworkers?”

You suppressed a groan.

You were currently in the elevator with your mother at the FBI in Quantico, riding up the numerous floors to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, where your sister JJ worked. In your arms were a stack of containers, filled with sweets your mom had made for the team.

There were her famous triple chocolate chip cookies made with milk, dark and white chocolate chips, some apple cobbler, cupcakes and even a strawberry pie. JJ’s team were suckers for Sandy Jareau’s delicacies.

“Mom, I love the team. They’re like extended family, you know that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Your mom gave you a look that you swore only mothers could perfect. It was partly calling out your bullshit and part disciplinary all at the same time. It was amazing, really, 29 years old and you were still getting the “you better not act out” look from her. What were you, eight?

“I mean that lovely Dr. Reid. You’re always so mean to him.”

“He starts it.”

Okay, maybe you were eight.

“Y/N.”

The warning tone in her voice was all you needed to keep your mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is I don’t want another call from JJ saying you’ve gotten locked in an interrogation room and almost got arrested for assaulting a FBI agent.”

“Okay that was one time!” you said, exasperated, “Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. But still. It’s not like I’m that bad all the time.”

“Really?” your mom looked at you, all knowingly, “What about that one time at JJ’s housewarming party?”

“I swear I didn’t glue his shoes to the floor!”

In your defense, that had been Derek Morgan, back when he was still working in the FBI, prior to his resignation. Of course though, no one believed that he had done it, apparently including your mother.

“Whether you did it or not, that’s not the point. You would’ve done it given the opportunity.”

You couldn’t deny that. 

“Just don’t stress JJ out any more than she is. She said when the two of you are fighting it’s like trying to corral two feisty chihuahuas.”

You sighed, defeated.

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior mom.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you’d arrived at your designated floor and the metal doors slid open to reveal your sister and of course, Spencer.

Spencer Reid, the biggest nemesis of your entire life.

He was absolutely infuriating. 

Tall, imposing, three PhDs, IQ of 187, Doctor Spencer Reid. That’s right, he wasn’t just Agent Reid, he was Dr. Reid. It was eye roll inducing.

He was a know-it-all, quite literally. If anyone said something even the slightest bit wrong, he didn’t hesitate to correct them. A person could breathe wrong and he’d probably correct that.

He constantly spewed facts. That was annoying enough in itself. You had no idea how JJ put up with it. But then again she was best friends with the guy. That blew your mind enough in itself.

If he wasn’t so annoying, he might actually be attractive. With a stature of over six feet, he was lean but without being a beanpole. His light brown curls always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and/or never taken a brush to his hair. His eyes were definitely interesting though. You could never tell if they were brown, green or maybe even hazel.

Not that you’d been paying that close of attention. Nor did you care.

He had significantly more facial hair than the last time you’d seen him. Not a bad look for him, you had to give him that.

JJ once told you that a college class he’d taught for two weeks was filled with nothing but young girls auditing his course. She said it had confused Spencer. It confused you too cause you didn’t see how he was that attractive. He was kinda cute, if you liked the whole snobby, genius who doesn’t brush his hair, smartass type.

Oddly enough, you’d known him for half your life, yet couldn’t recall how or when you started hating him. It just seems like it had been that way all along, when in fact, it hadn’t.

“Mom! Y/N!” JJ exclaimed, grinning wide.

You felt a burst of happiness in your chest. You’d missed your sister. Despite the 11 year age difference, you guys were close growing up.

You were still a baby when your older sister Rosalyn had committed suicide, so you didn’t remember much about her, sadly. It was really hard on JJ as she was the one to find her. But as she’d told you much later, you’d helped her grieve. Reliving memories and keeping Rosalyn’s memory alive in sharing stories with you helped her heal after such a traumatic situation. It was often that you’d wished you’d had the chance to know your oldest sister, but with her death came an impenetrable close bond between you and JJ.

JJ immediately wrapped her arms around your mother, hugging her tight. You gave a nod of your head, your arms too full to be able to hug her at the moment.

“I’ll just go put these in the briefing room,” you said.

You turned, aiming to head through the glass doors of the BAU’s entrance, but instead ran right into Spencer.

“Here, I got it,” he took several of the boxes out of your arms so you could see properly again, “If only to save you from injuring anyone else.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

“You watch where you’re going. Besides, I didn’t need your help,” you retorted.

“Obviously, you did,” Spencer mumbled, following you through the doors.

You hadn’t even made it all the way through the entrance when you heard your mom and JJ sigh in unison. You heard JJ’s words loud and clear, as well.

“They’re already bickering less than five minutes in. Must be a new record.”

It kinda was. Usually, the two of you managed to avoid each other until the inevitable crossing of paths occurred. Today, though, you both had started in, right off the bat.

You placed the numerous arrays of desserts on the round table, knowing by tomorrow they’d pretty much all be gone.

“You’re welcome for the help,” Spencer snarked, setting down the few containers he’d carried.

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t ask for it. So there’s no reason to thank you.”

“It’s the polite thing to do. Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know how to be polite. My bad.”

You glared at him, the hatred stirring in your gut.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, Y/N, but it hasn’t,” Spencer said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go greet your mother who actually deserves and appreciates my kindness.”

“Kindness, my ass,” you muttered as he walked away.

He turned, almost to the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you smiled in a fake, sweet matter.

He scoffed, turning and walking away.

Only when his back was turned did your fake demeanor drop and you stuck your tongue out at him.

This man would be the death of you yet.

•

“Penelope just got us a case. Luckily, it’s right here in our backyard so you can just sit in while we work. But please try to control your mouth.”

“JJ, I’m almost 30 years old,” you replied.

“Yes, but you still have a sharp tongue.”

“I promise not to make a scene, cause any trouble or be in the way. I know you have to work Jayj.”

After a round of greetings and hugs from the team and promises to stay longer when she returned from her business seminar, your mom had dashed off, leaving you at the BAU.

You looked up to see Emily Prentiss, JJ’s friend and boss motioning for her to join them in the briefing room.

“The team has to be debriefed about this case. Are you going to be okay here?”

You spun back and forth in her desk chair, motioning to the book you’d brought to read.

“I’ll be fine. Go work,” you shooed her.

JJ bounded off and up the stairs to the meeting and you picked up your book, ready to be entranced by the wonderful fantasy world of your book, far away from your reality.

-

“Why do people read that garbage? It does nothing but fills a person’s head with nonsense. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Although, now that I think of it, that’s probably a perfect fit for you.”

You peered up over the edge of your book.

You’d just gotten to a good part in your book. Your heroine was just getting ready to destroy the enemy and his lair, saving her love interest from the clutches of evil. It was a shame you couldn’t throw Spencer in the cage that your heroine was saving her lover from. Now that would make the book perfect.

“I’m reading. If you don’t mind.”

“Well it offends me. At least read something good. War and Peace is a good recommendation. Good story. I read it at breakfast last weekend,” Spencer said.

You turned up your nose. Leave it to Spencer to brag about his ability to read 20,000 words a minute and offer atrocious book recommendations in the same sentence. That in itself was offensive enough to you.

“This is why you don’t get dates, isn’t it?” you snipped.

He ignored the quip. 

“I’m supposed to ask you for help with the case.”

Now this was interesting. You raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“You do realize the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “There’s kids that are going missing.”

That sobered you quickly. You dropped any anger you had at him, for the moment, realizing how serious the matter was.

“How? What’s happening?”

“Four kids have gone missing. We can’t figure out how or why. They haven’t shown up yet, so we’re hopeful that they’re still alive,” Spencer said, lips narrowed into a thin line.

“What do you need my help for then?”

“Because to understand what happened to them, we need to profile these kids.”

•

“Okay so we know from his parents, six year old Erik Yates was incredibly shy,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard where the pictures of the four missing children were hung.

“He wouldn’t have talked to his own school teacher, let alone a stranger,” David Rossi said.

“But his best friend, Carlos Hoffman also went missing with him. They were having a sleepover, so he’d been at Erik’s house,” Emily added.

“And Carlos was the more outgoing of the two, wasn’t he?” you asked.

“Yup,” Tara said, flipping through her notes, “According to the parents, wherever Carlos went Erik was always close behind. So if they encountered a stranger, if Carlos was willing to go, Erik would likely follow.”

“I don’t know about that,” you piped in, “I’ve seen friendships like that in my class. Even if the kid is quiet, if they know something is wrong, they either say something to their friend or they just don’t do it period. I find it hard to believe that Erik would go along with someone he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Says the one that’s not a profiler,” Spencer mumbled from where he was standing, examining the evidence board.

JJ shot him a look, before returning to the conversation. You pretended not to hear that one and for once, bit your tongue. You wouldn’t accomplish anything by arguing with Spencer at the moment.

“So let’s go back to the top,” Matt said, “Mrs. Yates went to the door and there was someone there either selling something or had an excuse made up for the unsub to guilt trip money out of her. She leaves to get her purse. The kids are in the living room playing. Then suddenly, by the time she gets back, all three are gone.”

“That’s how her story goes,” Luke said, looking through interview notes.

“What about the other children?” you asked, “How were they taken?”

“One was kidnapped at the park, the other at the grocery store,” Spencer answered.

“What if it’s someone familiar with their routines?” you asked.

You weren’t anywhere close to being a profiler, but you knew enough from JJ to sort of get by in this conversation.

“A lot of my kids and their families have strict routines. Usually because it benefits the child and/or they have other children that they keep on a schedule too. Wouldn’t that mean that it’s someone that they know?”

“It could,” Emily said, “But unfortunately that doesn’t narrow down much because the unsub could also just be stalking these families before the kidnapping. The unsub could potentially be a complete stranger to them.”

“Have you asked the parents of the children if they could think of anyone who could do this? Is there anyone that might overlap with these families?” you inquired.

JJ had opened her mouth to answer you, but of course, Spencer had to add his two cents. 

“Are you an idiot? Of course, we did,” Spencer snapped, “That’s always the first thing we do.”

You bristled. Even when working together, he couldn’t be civil. He had the nerve to try and insult you and make you feel stupid, even though all you were trying to do was help.

“I’m not an idiot, Spencer,” you grit out.

“Oh really? You sure do act like one sometimes,” he retorted, writing something on the board.

Your defenses snapped back into place and you were ready to shoot back a remark when JJ interrupted you.

“Hey, hey, you guys. Quit it before I have to send you both into separate corners for timeout. We’re all on the same team here, trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s just focus.”

“Matt, Dave, JJ, I want you to go and reinterview the parents. Y/N has a point. We need to make absolutely sure there’s no one in these families lives that connect with one another,” Emily ordered.

“Luke, Tara; both of you go to the schools. See if there’s been any strangers lurking around. We can’t rule out a sexual predator just yet, but it would help vastly if we could.”

“Penelope, you and I are going to work on a deep dive of these families.”

Garcia’s face scrunched at Emily’s order; she hated diving into people’s personal lives, but unfortunately it sometimes came with the job.

“We’re going to make sure that these parents aren’t holding back any secrets that could possibly help us.”

Emily turned towards you and Spencer next.

“Spence, I want you to start on a geo profile, see if we can figure out the vicinity of the unsub’s hunting grounds. Maybe we might even be able to find where he’s holding them.”

“On it.”

Spencer was already grabbing a map, spreading it across the round table.

“Y/N, I want you to help him.”

Spencer’s head snapped up.

“Hell no. Emily please-”

She held up her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. That’s an order. If you disobey, I will put you behind a desk for a month.”

He relented, but you could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not like you were pleased at all by it either.

“Try not to burn the room down while you’re working,” she instructed, walking out to meet Garcia in her lair.

Once she left, Spencer spun towards you.

“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not to bother me while I work. You stay out of my way. I don’t need your help, nor do I want it. I can do my work just fine without you. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” he snapped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. Even I can tell when your IQ gets slashed to 60.”

“That’s the best you got, Y/N? I didn’t realize they let bimbos into the FBI. Oh wait...that’s right. I’m the one that’s the actual agent here. What is it you do again?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. You know that, you dumbass or else I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

“Oh, guess there’s no sleeping to the top in that field. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Your fists clenched. Spencer made you mad like no other could. Not even JJ could ever make you this mad.

“Just sit down and shut up while the adults work, okay?” he sneered at you.

“I’m not a child!”

You crossed your arms defensively. You weren’t about to let him get in all the insults. Ignoring him never worked, he was too obnoxious. So you just played it like he did, by slinging insults like dodgeballs at him.

“Well if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child!” he threw back.

His eyes were blazing, his cheeks gone pink from his anger. 

“Funny because you act more immature than my kindergartners.”

“WILL YOU TWO CAN IT AND GET TO WORK?!”

You both jumped at the sound of Garcia yelling from the bullpen. She made the motion that she’d be keeping her eyes on you two. You threw one more scowl Spencer’s way before flopping down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

This week was going to last an eternity.

•

Two days passed with no luck on finding an unsub, but they’d managed to put a profile together based on what little they did know.

The entire team was worried and on edge. Of course, that made the situation between you and Spencer even more volatile.

“Are you sure you’re an actual qualified agent? All you do is stand in front of a room full of police or your team and say smart things and gesture with your hands,” you mimicked Spencer, doing exactly what he was just doing earlier while they gave the profile.

“I do not look like that! You look like a baby dinosaur who doesn’t know how to walk,” he jeered.

“Yes, you do. All I’m saying is these civil service exams must be really easy to pass nowadays, huh?” you smirked.

“You know I’d ask if you could really be any more infuriating, but I’m afraid you’d take that as a challenge,” Spencer huffed, “Besides I’m supposed to be “nice” to you, since you’ve been so helpful.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you grinned mischievously, “I’ve been what?”

“I’m just quoting what Emily said. In my opinion you’ve been more like a pain in my ass,” he mumbled, looking through one of the case files.

“Oh sure because without me, would you’ve figured out that the unsub is a woman?”

“Probably. Don’t pat yourself on the back, sweetheart. You’re no match for us real profilers, Y/N.”

“I may not be, but you’ve met your match with me, pretty boy,” the nickname falling from your lips with deep sarcasm, “You can’t help but fight with me. For some reason I get under your skin and frankly, I enjoy it. It’s nice to know you can actually squirm, Spencer Reid.”

His lips pursed and he was about to speak when the phone rang. He answered it, putting it on speaker. Garcia’s excited voice came through it.

“Reid, gather the team. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”

•

“So it turns out, one of our families did have a secret. Although, it was something we weren’t even looking for,” Penelope said.

“What’s that Garcia?” Tara asked.

“The family of the first missing child: Daisy Rowe, had a nanny once. Her name is Kali Dye.”

Garcia hit the remote button to pull up the woman’s picture on the big screen at the front of the room.

“What does she have to do with our case?” Luke asked.

She stared at him, exasperated.

“If I could finish what I was saying, you’d know,” Penelope griped.

“Okay, okay,” Luke chuckled, “Carry on.”

You lived for Luke and Penelope’s playful banter. It was like the complete opposite of you and Spencer. They liked each other at the end of the day—not to mention everyone knew deep down they were definitely attracted to one another. Their banter was flirty. Yours and Spencer’s was anything but.

“As I was saying,” Penelope continued, “Kali was the nanny to the Rowe family back in 2016 when Daisy was only two years old. There was an incident where apparently she turned her back on little Daisy playing in the backyard. Daisy got too near the pool and almost drowned. She was in the hospital for a few days afterwards. The parents were obviously furious. I’m guessing Mrs. Rowe told all her friends about it because according to my research, Kali’s nannying career was basically ruined.”

“So you think this is an act of revenge? Did she nanny for any of the other kids she kidnapped?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s where it gets weird. She seems to have no connection to these other children,” Garcia said.

“Well we know who our unsub most likely is,” JJ said, “But how are we going to find out where she and the kids are?”

“I checked for that. There’s no significant places that she would take them, her old family house isn’t even in the state and besides it’s been sold years ago,” Penelope answered.

Emily’s phone rang as the team continued to throw around ideas of where to find Kali. 

“Prentiss.”

You watched Emily’s face quickly change expressions, from neutral to shock, to worry, back to businesslike.

“Okay, bring her to Quantico. We’ll need to interview her.”

Emily hung up, turning to the team.

“The second child kidnapped, Eden Jenson just showed up at a police station in D.C. She managed to get away and ran for help. We need to interview her, but she hasn’t spoken yet. The chief of the police station is having one of his detectives drive here so we can interview her,” Emily filled the rest of the team in.

“I’ll talk to her. I’m pretty good at getting kids to talk,” Spencer said.

“Actually, I think we should let Y/N do it,” JJ said, looking at Emily.

“What?! She has no experience interviewing a witness, much less a victim!” Spencer exclaimed.

“I worked in art therapy when I was getting my degree as a teacher. I still use some in my class, plus I’m a teacher,” you said defiantly, “I know how to talk to kids.”

“I agree with JJ,” Emily said, “But Spencer, sit in with her just in case you need to intervene.”

You were sure he was going to do plenty of that.

•

An hour later, you and Spencer were sitting in front of a little, terrified Eden. Her—what you assumed were once neat—blonde pigtails were in all types of disarray. Pieces stood up everywhere while other strands came loose, hanging around her face. She was clutching her bunny stuffie, which you figured had been with her when she was kidnapped.

She had refused to talk to anyone, shrinking away frightfully at any imposing adults. You had to restrain yourself from literally pushing Spencer out the door when she shrunk even more into herself when she saw Spencer’s tall frame.

She’d been previously asked if she was hungry or thirsty in which she barely nodded. Now, she sat a bit less rigidly as she ate her Goldfish crackers and sipped on her juice box.

“Eden, my name is Y/N and this is my…friend, Spencer.”

You had to admit, you had a rough time getting that one out. 

“We just want to talk to you, okay?” you said.

The little girl just stared back at you, wide eyed.

“Do you like to color?” you asked.

Still no response.

You pulled out some paper and a pack of crayons from a bin next to the desk. You pushed them across towards her.

“Could you draw something for us?”

It took a moment of Eden staring at the items before she opened the box and picked up a crayon.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions while you color?”

You didn’t expect an answer, so you weren’t surprised when none came.

“Are you six years old? Six is a fun age. Are you in kindergarten or first grade?”

Eden looked up at you, from underneath her lashes, just briefly, before returning to drawing.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. I’m used to seeing kids your age all the time. It’s spring break though and I miss my kids terribly. Do you miss going to school?”

Spencer shifted in his seat. You knew time was a delicate thing right now, but you were trying to get her to trust you.

“Eden?” 

She looked up again. If she was surprised to hear Spencer speak for the first time, she didn’t show it.

“Could you describe the place you were at?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she dropped her crayon, hugging tightly to her bunny.

You glared at Spencer.

“Just keep drawing, Eden. Okay? We’ll be right back,” you said, standing up, your hand a death grip on his arm.

Once the two of you had stepped out of the room and the door was closed behind you, you whirled on him.

“How can you be so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be a genius!”

“Y/N, you know we’re running on limited time to find those kids. We don’t know if Kali will hurt them or not!”

“I realize that. I’m trying to make her comfortable enough to talk about it.”

“Avoiding it doesn’t seem to be helping either,” he grimaced, hands on his hips.

“You saw what happened when you brought it up! She was terrified!”

“When dealing with a traumatized child you should tell them information about the situation they were in. It’s best they learn it from a trusted adult. Besides, it’s most likely they want to talk about it, but just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“And how would you know all of this, doctor?”

“Because contrary to your beliefs about me, I actually know how to do my job and how to do it well. I’ve dealt with things like this many times before. 60% of adults report being traumatized in childhood. 26% of children in the United States alone will witness or experience a traumatic event before the age of four.”

You blinked, unable to process so much information at once.

“Are you even human?” 

“Are you?” Spencer shot back, eyes narrowed.

“You know, with all things considered, I’d thought you’d gotten the idea that I really hate you.” you sneered.

“Really? And here I thought that was your version of flirting,” he retaliated, sarcastically.

“Moron,” you muttered under your breath.

“Now, if you’re through calling me names, I’ve got work to do,” he said, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“Wait,” you grabbed his arm, “Just let me try again first? Please? If I get stuck or need you, I’ll let you know.”

It was some of the most civil words you’d said to him in a long time. But you didn’t want to give up on this little girl. You wanted to help her and prove to Spencer and yourself if you were being honest, that you could do it.

He must’ve noticed your serious tone and pleading eyes because he relented. He nodded and you turned to go back in.

Eden was waiting for you when you returned, back to clutching her bunny.

“Don’t you want to finish your picture?” you asked, sitting down in front of her.

She pushed it across to you.

“Oh are you done?”

She nodded.

You picked up the picture, noticing four stick figures. Two seemed to be girls, two seemed to be boys. They looked like they could represent all four missing kids.

“Are these you and your friends?” you asked gently.

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then came a soft, timid voice.

“They aren’t my friends...at least not until a few days ago.”

“My friends here, they found out that you didn’t know these other three children. Is that right?”

Eden nodded again.

“Do you know the woman who took you?”

“No,” she said, equally as quiet as before.

“You’re doing a great job, Eden,” you smiled at her, hoping to encourage her, “Just a few more questions, okay?”

Another nod.

“Can you describe where you were?”

“I...I don’t know,” her voice trembled, as if she were going to cry.

You heard the door open up behind you and you turned to see Spencer. He gave you a terse shake of his head, as if telling you now was not the time to snap at him.

“Eden?” Spencer came around to her side and crouched by her, “You remember me, right? I’m Spencer.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I want to try to help you help Miss Y/N here. To tell her what the place looked like that you were at.”

“But I don’t remember,” Eden said, frowning.

“I think you do. You know how when you’re afraid, you hide?” Spencer asked gently.

Eden nodded her answer.

“Well, that’s kinda what your brain is doing. It’s scared, so you think you can’t remember. What I want to do is have you to close your eyes and think back to before you were taken.”

“No, I’m scared,” Eden whimpered, hugging the stuffie.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here,” he offered her his hand, which she took reluctantly, “I’ll be right here the entire time. If things get too scary, just squeeze my hand and we can stop. Alright?”

“Alright.”

She closed her eyes, listening to Spencer’s voice.

You were amazed at how soft and gentle he was with her. It was like seeing all of his razor sharp edges he displayed around you, smoothed out. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever heard him like this.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice,” Spencer whispered, “You were playing at the park. What were you doing?”

“Playing on the swing with my bunny,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good Eden, you’re doing wonderful. What do you hear?”

“Lots of kids playing. They’re very loud.”

“What happens next?”

“There’s a lady behind me. She asks if I would like to play in the sandbox with her. I told her yes but I didn’t want to get bunny dirty.”

Eden is trembling now and you eye Spencer warily. He holds his free hand up and you don’t say anything, just yet.

“Very good Eden. Did you go play in the sandbox?”

“No. She took my hand and led me away from the swings. I asked her where she’s going because the sandbox was the other way.”

“Do you want to stop, Eden?” Spencer asked.

“N-No. I a big girl like mommy always says.”

“Okay. What happened then, sweetheart?”

“She grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth. I tried screaming for my mommy, but I couldn’t. She took me to a car.”

“Can you remember what the car looked like?”

“Um, blue. It was blue. It had a lot of doors. It was long too.”

Spencer looked like he realized what she was describing.

“Did the middle door slide open and closed?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“It was big inside with lots of seats. That’s all I saw before she covered my eyes.”

It sounded like an SUV or family van.

“When you were in the car, did you ride for a really long time? Or a short time?”

“A short time.”

You jotted the note down.

“One last question honey. Do you remember anything about the room you were in? What did it look like?”

“Like...like my bedroom. Only much dirtier. And old looking. There’s...there’s flowers on the wall. There’s a lot of toys, but I don’t want to play. I want to go home. Me and my friends are so scared. She’s coming back, she's coming back!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m right here.”

Eden’s eyes snapped open and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled.

She didn’t let go of him until her parents arrived.

•

After kicking the information over to Garcia and her being the goddess she is at finding even the most hidden information, she found the house.

The team had found her car, registered to Kali, but with a false last name. From there, Garcia looked for any run down buildings or homes for rent within 10 to 15 minutes of that park. The team agreed that Kali wouldn’t have bought a house for the simple reason of too much work. She didn’t seem to be that dedicated to a well thought out plan. That was when Garcia discovered an old house rented under the name of Kali Rowe, the same last name of the family she had been a nanny for.

You stayed behind while the team went out to rescue the children and hopefully bring Kali Dye into custody. 

They did.

All four kids were now safely reunited with their parents and Kali had been arrested and hopefully was going to get the help she needed.

Since you hadn’t been there, JJ had filled you in afterwards when everybody had gotten back. You were sitting next to one another in the briefing room, talking, while everything settled down. 

Kali Dye had been so distraught over the loss and destruction of her nannying career. Apparently at one point, she had been a wonderful nanny. What had happened with Daisy, truly was an accident. Whether she had had a mental breakdown or suffered from an unknown or untreated mental illness beforehand, they didn’t know. But she soon became desperate to prove she was a good nanny.

She kidnapped Daisy first, to prove her point. Then three other children that she’d followed, learning their schedules. 

She had taken good care of them, at least in her mind. In reality, she hadn’t hurt them or touched them one bit. She fed them, gave them all attention and all the toys they wanted, to play with.

It was a sad situation, really. But you were glad that the families had a happy ending and their children were back safely in their homes tonight.

“You did good little sis,” JJ smiled, “Keep it up and you may just have to think about switching careers.”

“No thanks,” you chuckled, “I’m happy teaching kids, not seeing them in life threatening situations. I don’t have the heart for that.”

“Spence said you did really well getting Eden to open up,” she said.

“I’m surprised he actually knows how to compliment a person, let alone me,” you scoffed.

“Y/N. Come on. What’s your deal with him? This has been going on for years now.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t stand him.”

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” JJ said, “He’s a good guy. Besides, you used to have a crush on him when you were younger.”

“Ew, did I?” 

You wrinkled your nose, trying to remember. JJ had joined the BAU when you were only 14. A lot had happened in high school, let alone the 15 years since she’d first joined. You didn’t visit her very often because of school and all of your other extracurricular activities, so you hadn’t met the team until about a year after she started.

“You don’t mean the summer after my freshman year, do you?” you asked, “Cause back then he was a cute little dweeb and it lasted like two seconds anyway. I had a case of raging hormones to the point I had a crush on just about anything male with two legs.”

You rolled your eyes, disgusted at the fact she’d even think that you’d have a crush on Spencer. Although deep down, deep, deep, deep down, a little part of you knew that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Why do you hate him though? He’s my best friend. I love him and I want you two to get along.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, I know you love him. Remember, you told me that you told him that you’ve always loved him? That he was your first love?”

You bit your lip, trying hard to keep the jealous edge out of your tone. This is what you’d tried hard to avoid all these years. You hated that you felt like this but you’d been covering up your true feelings for him and the situation, with anger all these years. If you kept yourself at a distance, you were less likely to get hurt.

How wrong you were.

“Is that what this is about? Because I told Spence I loved him?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Y/N.”

She gave you the same look that your mother had given you in the elevator just days before.

“Jeez, you’ve got mom’s “look” down pat,” you mumbled.

“Please tell me the truth. Is my confession why you hate him?”

Her eyes pleaded with you and you couldn’t help but cave. She was your sister and your best friend and you knew she cared.

“No. I don’t know, maybe partially. But I disliked him way before that anyway. He’s just a know-it-all smartass, that annoys the shit out of me and is just like every other guy to fall head over heels in love with Jennifer Jareau.”

You grimaced, “For a guy that has an IQ of 187, he sure doesn’t know how to be different from other guys.”

“Okay hold up,” JJ held up her hands, “First of all, he is not head over heels in love with me.”

“JJ, please. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m serious. He may have been once, but he’s not anymore. We’re best friends and that’s it. Besides, we worked out that mess over a year ago. He’s even dated since then.”

“The kid actually dates? I’m shocked,” you said, putting a hand on your chest in mock surprise.

JJ ignored your antics, continuing on.

“Second. He’s actually a really great guy, Y/N. He’s a real sweetheart, really. It’s just a side of him that you don’t see.”

“Yeah like the dark side of the moon,” you muttered.

“Just give him a chance and try to be nice? You know what mom always said. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Besides, if you want to go for him, that’s fine.”

You laughed outright at that. As if that would happen.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna head back to your place,” you said standing.

“I have to stay a little later to finish up some work. Can you get home okay on your own?”

You assured her you could and you grabbed your purse. 

“Y/N?” she called, as you were about to the glass doors.

“Yeah?” 

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

•

If you thought you were gonna get a reprieve after that uncomfortable conversation, you were sorely mistaken.

The moment you stepped out of the BAU, you saw Spencer standing, waiting for the elevator, his hands clutching the strap of his tan satchel as he waited.

“Ah, there she is. The woman who saved the day,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Fuck off Reid. I’m not in the mood.”

“You know, I’m actually shocked that you’re good at something besides bitching.”

You ignored him, your teeth clenching.

“I’m surprised you held your tongue as long as you did earlier. Bet that’s a record for you.”

The elevator doors opened and you got on without a word, Spencer following you.

“What? No comebacks? Amazing. Has Spencer Reid actually won for once?”

You whirled on him, dropping your purse to the elevator floor in the process.

“No because you’re full of shit. You’re the most annoying, stubborn ass, infuriating, egocentric, smart aleck in a fancy suit I’ve ever met!”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened. He pulled his satchel over his head, dropping it too, to the floor. He pushed the emergency button of the elevator with such anger, it was amazing that he didn’t break it. The elevator suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched.

Your body was thrumming with anger. You could and likely would pummel him at any second.

“You’re not leaving this elevator until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” Spencer glared.

“My problem?” you huffed.

“Yes because I have to deal with you jumping down my throat every single time I see you. You’re the most stuck up, spoiled, self centered, bitchy little brat I’ve had to deal with!”

“Ha! You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” he challenged.

“Go ahead, try me. I’d love to hear.”

“I think, you don’t know how to deal with how you’re really feeling. So you hide it under anger. You lash out every time your feelings threaten to surface. It’s become a defense mechanism. It’s all you know. You fight with me because it’s the only way to protect yourself; you throw words as your daggers. Simply because you can’t get me out of your mind. I push you to limits you don’t want to think about. You may swear and declare that you hate me but in reality, you’d be thrilled if I took you right up against this elevator wall.”

His voice grew deeper with every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you profiling me? Cause that’s one hell of a reach.”

“Is it though? You wanna know how I figure that? You told me the other day that I met my match. That I can’t help but fight with you because you get under my skin. Well you were right. I do enjoy it and I think you do too. Because it turns you on. It does the same thing to me. You get under my skin yet at the same time all I can think about is how I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit from just another guy who’s crazy about JJ?” you sneered.

For the first time, he actually looked just the tiniest bit surprised.

“You think I have feelings for JJ? If I had feelings for her, do you honestly think I’d spend all my time and attention on you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“JJ isn’t the one that occupies my brain, no matter what I try to do, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

His face was mere inches away from yours now. Close enough to see an array of scattered freckles on his face. A few under one eye, a tiny one on the side of his nose, one on his forehead.

His stubble had gotten heavier in the last few days, becoming more scruff than stubble. His lips were naturally plump, an asset that would be the envy of any woman. They were also a natural shade of dark pink, maybe even leaning towards red. 

Anger heated his eyes. Or was it desire? You wondered if you looked the same way. Right now, they looked more green in the brighter light in the elevator, but you could still see rings of brown around the edges of his eyes. They were also filled with mischief as if he were up for a challenge.

“You really think you’re going to distract me by putting your tongue in my mouth and getting my panties wet?” you hissed.

“Is that what you want?” 

A smirk formed on his lips. He was definitely challenging you.

Your legs were trembling now. Although if you were to admit it, you weren’t entirely sure if it was from anger or arousal.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything, almost afraid what would come out of your mouth. He had you cornered up against the wall now.

“Maybe I should just find out for myself,” he said, propping his hands on either side of the wall by your head, “Make you moan in my mouth while I finger you.”

The anger that was coursing your veins earlier had definitely now turned into desire. Your stomach churned with it. You could feel his body mere inches from yours and the heat from it was making your entire body temperature feel that much higher.

“It’s not like I haven’t imagined making you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, his tongue moving out over his lips in a quick swipe.

Your breathing had become shallow and you were throbbing with need. Before you could think of what you were doing, you were already unbuttoning your jeans.

“For once in your life I wish you’d shut up and just do it,” you grunted.

He grabbed your face roughly with both hands, his lips colliding with yours. They were hot and rough against yours, this kiss so hungry and animalistic that it was unreal.

His body was pressed against yours as he pressed you against the cool, metal wall. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh and you unwittingly moaned into his mouth. You had a difficult time wrapping your head around the fact that you’d gotten him so hard.

Then again, you were having a hard time wrapping your mind around anything that didn’t involve him.

His tongue moved with yours, ironically increasing your desire, making you wetter. Just like you’d voiced earlier. Damn, the guy sure knew what he was doing.

He pulled your jeans roughly down your legs until they were enough out of the way that he was satisfied. His lips attacked your jaw, then neck, being anything but gentle, but it was working you up more than anything.

Your hands gripped his arms, your teeth bearing down into your bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to what he wanted: hearing you moan.

He pulled away from you making you suddenly desperate for his lips on your skin again. He pried your hands away from him and held them against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

His suit pants were a lot thinner than your jeans, so you could feel his erection pressing into you, dangerously close to your throbbing core where all of a sudden, you wanted him the most.

Spencer’s fingers ghosted over the fabric of your underwear, causing you to inhale sharply. It felt good and you wanted more.

You reached for his hand, trying to push it against your core, but he pulled it away, shaking his head.

“No. This is all you’re getting until you admit it.”

His finger trailed up the center of your panties, having just enough pressure to slightly feel his touch. You groaned at his teasing. If your past years of banter had been foreplay then you were more than ready for him to have you.

“Admit what?”

“That you want this,” Spencer stated simply.

His fingertip swirled lightly over the fabric, just above your clit. Light enough that you didn’t get any real friction from the touch and you bucked your hips, desperate to feel it.

“I think it’s fucking obvious,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smirk was wolfish. You knew he wasn’t going to give in unless you did what he said.

“I want this,” you groaned.

“What’s that?” he tipped his head to the side, “Can’t hear you.”

“I want this,” you said, a notch louder, gripping his wrist.

“This?”

His fingers dipped into your underwear and his thumb pressed hard against your clit.

“Ah, fuck yes,” you moaned.

He grinned, his finger dipping into your wet warmth.

“Seems like my tongue in your mouth did indeed make you wet,” he chuckled lowly, pulling your underwear off with his other hand.

His fingers teased you as you writhed and moaned, clawing at the elevator wall behind you. He had this amazing way of rubbing his knuckles against your walls as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Holy shit, fuck Spencer,” you whined.

You were so turned on, you hardly had any recognition of what was tumbling out of your mouth. It sure seemed to please Spencer, though.

He kept you on your toes though, slowing his fingers just when you thought you were reaching the brink of your orgasm, twisting them so gradually, it was almost painfully pleasant. You swore your eyes almost rolled back in your head when his fingers curled inward in his direction, catching that sweet spot at just the right angle.

He was kissing you as you moaned appreciatively in his mouth. His hands were quite literally magical.

His fingers finally sped up, his thumb focusing all its attention on your clit. You could feel your release quickly approaching and you were ready to succumb to it. You wanted Spencer Reid to make you cum so hard you’d be begging for more.

He did just that.

Your high hit you as you released on his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, your head banging against the wall. You actually think you stopped breathing for a short second before air rushed back into your lungs and you released a long moan.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you groaned, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He’d given you one hell of an orgasm and here you were, ready to beg for more. Especially if they came while he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“That was hot as hell,” he muttered, kissing you again, “It’s sexy seeing you spend all your energy on an orgasm instead of yelling at me. It’s healthier for your body, too.”

He smirked, his teeth pulling on your lower lip gently before pulling away. His hands were working with yours to push his pants down and his boxers too.

“Are you willing to admit you want me to fuck you against this wall now?” he growled.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes, please.”

Man, if he wanted you to be his bitch ages ago, he probably should’ve just fucked you. One orgasm at his hands and you had turned into a writhing, begging and moaning heap.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could make you feel so good with his hands, that it would most likely be ten times as amazing with his dick.

He lifted you up, holding you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretching in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time and you couldn’t hold it back; a long, low moan of gratification left your lips.You hated to admit it, but he felt fucking fantastic inside of you.

By his own confirming groan, you could tell he felt the same way as you. At the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder why this hadn’t happened years ago. 

His hips rocked against yours, slowly at first as his mouth found yours. He was as ravenous for you as you were for him. 

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was quite literally fucking you into this metal wall and you were loving every second of it.

Your emitted moans were coming every few seconds with every slap of your skin against his. His own grunts and groans came from deep in his throat, making you even hotter.

“S-Spencer,” you stuttered, pulling his face back to yours.

You have him a brief kiss before smirking up at him.

“I’m the spoiled little brat that’s got you moaning like a little bitch,” you panted.

Your words made him groan as he gripped your sides. He must have excellent control because he managed to get a hold of himself, slowing his hips to where he was tantalizingly pulling out of you and pushing back in.

“Still hate me, Y/N?”

“Right now, yes,” you groaned, trying to pull him deeper within you, wanting the previous speed and depth back.

“Now?”

“Ye- ahhh,” a breathy moan came from you as he resumed his harsher and faster thrusts.

“I don’t hate you,” you groaned, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Maybe voiced thoughts during sex were the truth because you actually didn’t hate him. Especially right now.

“Fuck, Y/N, yes baby,” he groaned.

He was close to his peak, you could tell. His fingers were on your clit, circling furiously. He was going to make sure you got your orgasm, before he got his. Who knew he was actually so decent?

Your whimpers, moans and groans were rising in pitch. You halfway hoped no one could hear, but at the same time didn’t care. Let the whole building hear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Spencer, I’m coming, I’m-”

With that, the coil of pleasure that had been building up snapped like a broken rubber band, shooting through your entire body. 

You may have screeched too, you’re not entirely sure. You were completely lost to the bliss of your orgasm and even more so when he came apart not long after you. If you had thought he was attractive before, he was a hundred times more sexy when he was orgasming above you, all caused by you.

Your movements slowed, your chests both heaving. He held onto you carefully, as if he was afraid to set you down just yet. Probably a good idea considering you felt like you’d lost all function in your legs.

You laughed incredulously, unable to believe what had just happened. That had simultaneously been the craziest yet hottest thing you’d ever done.

Spencer’s smirk was replaced with a more shy, happy smile. It was a better look than the scowl he’d worn for you for so long.

It was like the moment that first orgasm hit you, all the anger, all the hatred, all the negative feelings you’d felt towards him drained from your body. You didn’t have the willpower or the desire to hate him anymore. Not that you ever really had.

“I meant what I said,” you said quietly.

“What’s that? You said a lot of things,” he chuckled.

“That I don’t hate you.”

He took a few moments in silence, parting from you and gently setting your feet on the floor again. He took his time getting decent again, as well. You worried at your bottom lip as you did the same, nervous that you’d said the wrong thing.

“So I was right? About the defensive mechanism and everything?”

“Yeah,” you nodded somberly, “I horribly misjudged you; thinking you were stuck up, full of yourself, better than anyone else, the kind of guy that was like all the others and in love with my sister.”

“If anything, I would think what just happened would prove more than anything that my sights are set on you.”

He had a point.

“Why did you hate me though?”

“I was thrown off by your reaction to me. I thought you were a self entitled, spoiled brat and that you thought you were better than me. Seems like we both vastly misjudged one another.”

“It’s kinda a good thing though,” you said.

Spencer looked at you, baffled.

“It is?”

“Well yeah, cause if none of that happened then that wouldn’t have happened either,” you gestured to the place where moments before the two of you had been a tangle of limbs.

“Good point,” he chuckled.

“Uh, Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“You might want to get the elevator moving again.”

“Oh! Right.”

He laughed, hitting the emergency button to restart the elevator.

“I apologize for giving you so much grief though. I’d do anything to make it up to you,” you said.

“How about letting me take you out then? You’re still here for a few more days, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I think I can make all the time in my schedule for you, Spencer.”

His answering smile was enough to make you smile in return.

Oddly enough, the elevator had gone down and back up without stopping, returning to the floor the BAU was on.

“That’s weird,” Spencer mumbled.

The doors parted to JJ waiting to get on.

“Hey, what are you guys still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

Huh, so it’d been an hour. 

She got on the elevator, standing between the two of you.

“Elevator issues,” Spencer answered, before you could think of what to say.

“So you’ve been stuck in the elevator together this entire time?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” you answered.

“I guess it’s a miracle you two didn’t tear each other apart then,” she muttered, hitting the button for the ground floor.

Yeah, there might’ve been some tearing involved.

Behind her back, you and Spencer shared a secret smile.

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @whatspunispun @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @reidsstudies @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @likelovers @hopebaker​

[himitsu-luna]

Types of Nctzens - Nct 127 edition

Disclaimer: Please, don't take this post too seriously, please! It's all a joke, and we are all clowns hehehe 🤡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Taeil biased

Super chill

The world is collapsing and they are picking flowers

But mess with their loved ones, and you are dead

Every morning at 10 a.m, they go on twitter to beg Taeil for pictures

Lost 24/7

Laugh at themselves when no one does (so they are laughing non stop)

May become a meme unintentionally

Their wardrobe consists basically in pajamas and hoodies

Always tired for some reason

It's 3 a.m. and they are watching a video of a time lapse of a decomposing banana (that's the reason)

The Johnny biased

Thirsty people

Like hugs

Usually super tiny people or super tall people

Really cool and chill

Popular

Know everyone

Best people to talk to

Smell nice

Can't decide if they want to give Johnny some shirts or not

They are sexy and they know it

Like to walk around weird places at weird hours with weird people

The Taeyong biased

Soft soft soft and precious

Animal lovers

DIY enthusiast

Forgot how to sleep

Cook grandma recipes

Sensitive and kind

Like sweets and is often in a sugar rush

The duality is real

Hardworking

Good facial expressions, which leads them to be selca maniacs

Have the best advices ever

Cry when they have to kill a fly

Want that vacuum cleaner that moves for itself as a birthday gift

The Yuta biased

Have the bestest style

Divas

Kinda intimidating

But have hearts of gold

Super kind and understanding

Honest and sincere

Have strong values and ideals

Love anime and look up to Naruto, the great Hokage

Hair already is dead, but here they are, bleaching it for the 46th time just this year

That one who says they have a secret, just to not tell you and kill you from curiosity

May seriously have some secret powers

Press the buttom everyone says to not press

The Doyoung biased

Have a thing for hands and necks

Stressed moms

Organized and multitasking

Aesthetic af

Nurturing and caring people

Activist

Someone save them from the bullies

Dramatic

Likes to buy those interior design magazines

Buys cactus and suculents, but they all die after a week

You can find one everywhere you go. Just scream "Doyoung simp Unite!" and they will show up

The Jaehyun biased

They are just stunning

Seriously, how??? They are all gorgeous!

Secretly weirdos

Suspicious sense of humor

Like men in suits

Poetic

Googles "How to read minds" and other strange random stuff

Make you feel comfortable and are super nice and supportive

Screams internally while outside they are still fabulous

Wants to be in a Shakespeare piece

They just want some milk

The Winwin biased

Cute freak

Like to suffer

Attracted to tsundere type of guys

Have a thing for shy people

Do things and no one suspects them

So they are good at "Among us"

Appreciate the beauty in simple things

Good grandchildren

Good listener

Awkward little beans

Clumsy af

Like light colors and moodboards

Trying to learn the chinese language, but slowly getting crazy because of it

Believe in Santa Claus and are always prepared for an Apocalypse zombie.

The Jungwoo biased

Unpredictable and crazy

But full of uwu

Eat strange things

Like horror movies, but close their eyes when they are watching one

Either really shy or a chatty chatty

Sensitive and emotional

Makes you wear weird things and says you look good

Pour milk before the cereal

Best people to be with if you're feeling down

Overall soft and sweet

The Mark biased

Baby face

Pure souls

Need to be protected at all costs

Easily distracted

Burn the kitchen because they forgot the stove on

Probably multilingual

Speak through emoticons

The ones who say they suck at something, but they are actually really really good at it

Indecisive af

Say "WUT" a lot

The Haechan biased

They are called Sunflowers for a reason

Extremely friendly and nice

They just shine

The ones who make memes out of Taeil's fans

Little shits

But its impossible to get mad at them.

Everyone loves them

Game until they can't anymore

Full of energy

Would drop everything to help you

Like to make bets in which you end up screaming "ding ding dong" in the middle of a church

Great story tellers

Change their phone background hourly