#juvenile stage

[habbadax]

Flank speed

[thesobsister]

Reportedly, Lin-Manuel Miranda is working on a musical adaptation of essential '70s NYC dystopian drama The Warriors, working from the 1965 novel by Sol Yurick about an assembly called of all of NYC's street gangs to take place in the Bronx with a view to uniting to fight "The Man."

Interestingly, 1965 is much closer to the Jets/Sharks-type gang paradigm, with which New Yorkers were somewhat familiar, "J.D.s" and the like. The 1979 film, though, is right in the NYC-is-burning timeframe, so a gang takeover of the city at that time actually seems much more plausible.

Less well known is the fact that the novel was based on Anabasis by Xenophon, the story of the band of Greek mercenaries hired to help Cyrus II take the throne of Persia.

The Warriors became an international cult favorite over time, influencing creators in a variety of visual media. The Ghanaian poster below, however, takes a few liberties with the film, as I don't recall there being any werewolves, demons, or incidents of cannibalism in the original:

[captainmvf]

Mari gets some extra attention today <3

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

Not to be a hater but I was just listening to an interview about queer representation and the person made so many “we can’t sit in our chairs correctly lol” jokes / meme references, even saying how they were talking to a creator about how it could be great to have a specific character sitting weird in the show and how “everyone” would get what it meant … I’m so over it.

[loversandantiheroes]

Sometimes I literally space out and lose like half an hour of my life thinking about how much I hate fn@f. I really try not to let myself linger on anything that bugs me that hard because it's such a waste of energy, but it's just so goddamn inescapable as a part of internet culture that makes it really really hard to not just sit here and enter a fugue state where I can do nothing but think about how bromine didn't actually bother writing a cohesive story for his games and just threw out a mishmash of ideas, called it "lore" and let the internet do his work for him.

[mmikmmik2]

Okay, I have to assume that most other people missed that the Collector wasn’t demanding pizza bagels for himself, but instructing Odalia to make pizza bagels for the Owl Beast. Because I cannot be the only person who is way too amused by the mental image of King or Lilith curtly accepting “kiddy”/junk food meal service from Odalia. The insult upon injury for poor Eda and Lilith that the only hot meals they get are like, pizza bagels and dinosaur chicken nuggets and Happy Meals. Please someone help them, they’ve already suffered enough

[lalaboy]

trying to watch the 23' streamer awards is so unbelievably unbearable, it's a D grade presentation by middle schoolers

[savageboar]

the one remaining platy fry is still persevering in there!!

[smallhatlogan]

So many people will never know the satisfaction of getting a teeny tiny speck of a little guy and raising it up into a huge fucking spider 

[yellosnacc]

Uniima larvae come in large numbers but high mortality rate as these onigiri have to compete to become juveniles even in the egg case.

They start off with an egg wall. Their bodies are still clumbs of cells that slowly fill up the inside of the 'egg', consuming the included nutrients. Once they are ready, the baby grows it's own wall for the first time and 'hatches'.

After this the larvae molts as it grows with a new wall each time. During the whole larval period the shed skin sticks to the white. If adults don't clean them up, you will see multiple torn layers on top of the white, which can cause issues.

The white grows a straw. A somewhat brittle organ compared to that of ancestral larvae but functional enough to pierce under another whites wall (especially in the side seam). The larva actively feeds itself using this, though the food has to be liquid enough to get through the straw. They don't smell or see to search for food and will just wiggle the straw around until they can slurp. These triangles are mostly fat and liquids with other tissues in the center and thowards straw.

When they completely lose the straw (the entrance to it reforms), they start eating with their new mouth. At this point they also start making noise with their nostrils. Adult Uniima are sensitive to this much more than to the visual cuteness of the larva. This is often when adults start claming individuals to raise.

As the creature grows and gains complexity inside its own wall, it's new molts allow for use of more developed parts - anal cavity opens, ear cycles appear, eyes get bigger and closer to the wall surface, "mouth hands" with leathery pads emerge.. and lastly it's whole legs with fingers (often just silhouettes of feet show up rather then whole fingers or they are webbed).

After it's last stage and sufficient amounts of food, the white goes dormant to metamorphosise. This can take a week and less as most juvenile components are already in place.

The larval stages of Uniima can differ in length depending of environment - temperature, humidity, lack of food...

The average time from birth to metamorphosis is around 3 and half earth months.

The images here are not fully up to scale. Most larvae grow more between the stages but it's also not impossible for it to be to scale. I would just consider this larva a runt of the litter.

[greedyhoneyz]

Judgement Day

.ೃ࿔* pairing: armando aretas x reader .ೃ࿔* synopsis: the aretas name carried weight in miami. it was a name which symbolised power and carried a notion of fear. to mess with an aretas, was a call to an early death. .ೃ࿔* wc: 3k words. .ೃ࿔* cw: angst. assault. violence. blood. harrassment. threats. .ೃ࿔* authors note: another fanfic for a piece of media i have yet to watch. this is long but i hope it doesn't come off juvenile.

The hot Miami heat bared the warmth of a deep-emotion smile at dawn but as night fell, it raged into an inferno, chaotic and wild. It charred and blistered the abode floor, once chilled by seasonal rains and engulfed the city with a tragic blaze.

Even in the heatwave, Miami bustled with life, men and women toiled across the dancefloor, their bodies weary and scorched beneath yards of thin fabric. They jived and boogied to the setlist with as much passion as their drunken states could emote and drank to their hearts' content. At the end of the night, they busted through the doors into the artificial glow of street lamps, staggering, failing to hail an Uber or move on to the next attraction. In the charcoal night, Miami Beach weaved together crowds of partygoers and workers alike, as the early morning sunshine threatened to peek through the sky.

(name) hissed and hollered her way out of the nightclub as her heels clicked onto the pavement.

She had worn them for the sake of fashion. The open-toed stilettos were to die for; they matched perfectly with her mini dress and petite shoulder bag. But now as she waddled, her feet were paying the price. The four-inch stilettos were not meant for walking, the leather straps dug into her skin and the arch pinned tiny knives into her feet. Each step she took sent a shockwave of pain through her feet.

Adjusting her stride, (name) attempted to distribute her weight more evenly into the shoe. It made little difference but she would make it work– the night was young and she had a couple more hours in her.

Straightening her shoulders, (name) fixed her bag and quickened her pace, walking in conjunction with her friend.

“Where are we going?” She had spoken out between anxious breaths, inwardly wincing at the pressure dented into her toes.

“Um…..” Kayla stared into her phone. “Nightingale, Candace said she’ll meet us there.”

“How far is it?”

“Just a couple blocks down. We’ve been there before, remember?”

“I do,” (name) huffed. “It's just– my feet are killing me. I don’t know how much longer I can take this Kayla. I’m tired.”

Kayla stopped, causing (name) to falter in haste as she slowly turned. She faced her friend, boring her eyes into hers, her lips forming into a hard line. She gripped her friend’s arm, holstering her close and darted her pointer finger to her.

“You,” She began slowly, her voice was low at first but grew louder and more boisterous as she glared into (name). “Are not going anyway, do you understand? Today is our night, our night to go out, get drunk and do something stupid, okay? No shoe and no bitch is ruining our night, comprende?”

“Sí. Sí. I understand.” (name) replied shortly, hiding a smile between her teeth.

“Good.” Kayla nodded, tucking her arm around (name’s).

The pair beelined across the strip, accustoming themselves amongst the crowds of partygoers pulling and pushing their way across South Beach. They found Candace waiting by the entrance, looking radiant in a yellow, mini-dress, her wind-tousled hair fell over her shoulders.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, giving them each a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The bouncer let them in without hesitation, ushering the trio past the long, ascending line trickling across the street, and they made their way towards the bar. The music blared and pulsated from wall to wall and the stage lights flared and spun above them.

“So….where’s this boyfriend of yours at?” Candace asked inquisitively, sipping on her margarita. She wriggled her eyebrows playfully and passed a simple glance at (name’s) phone as she placed it on the bar, a picture of her boyfriend printed on her lock screen.

“Somewhere,” (name) shrugged. “He wasn’t home when I left for Kayla’s place.”

“So you snuck out?” Kayla jeered, propping her chin atop her hand. “You never told me that.”

(name) shook her head. “Nah, it's nothing like that–”

“Wait— this means you can stay out!” Candace bellowed happily.

“Of course I can–”

“No more talking, let’s dance!”

Candace shot up from her seat, slamming her drink on the bar counter, and reigned her hands around Kayla and (name). She wrung them out from their seats with the strength of a colossal giant and tugged the two towards the dancefloor, declaring the two move to the rhythm of the song.

It took a while – a couple of short seconds before Kayla and (name) joined Candace in dance. The three danced in conjunction with each other, keeping close to their circle with a light bounce from side to side and trigger fingers.

As the night wore on, the air grew thicker and (name) and her friends were tipsier. The club music had grown louder and more intense as the DJ turned to play Sexyy Red and the crowd had begun to surge forward in retort to the sharp change in tempo and pitch. The crowd was like a tide, rolling in and out, its rhythm intermittent to the beat.

No more did the throbbing of her feet cloud (name’s) mind; the blend of a rhubarb fizz and vitality was a deterrent. With her closest friends surrounding her, (name) felt at ease, her smile so wide and bright, that she feared it would become permanent.

She rocked her hips, her hands travelling across her thighs and slowly craned forward. She held onto her legs, shaking her thighs as motion rippled across her calves and ascended towards her ass. (name) shook her bottom with a smize, moving her cheeks with such fluid, curvaceous motions it left nothing to disguise that the skirt of her dress began to hike. Undaunted, she continued to move, placing a careful hand between her cheeks as the other tugged her dress down.

So young and so free, (name) craned herself upwards and placed her hands against her chest. She bopped from side to side, twirling her hips gingerly and scored her hands across her breasts and middle. She looked heavenward at the ceiling, the club roof clouded by bright, neon lights and flashes, she squeezed her eyes shut in retort. She dropped her head and opened her eyes, bouncing on the balls of her feet before letting out a raring shrill.

The night flew by in a blur of music, laughter and good company. And by 2 am, the club slowed and the crowd began to disperse. Exhausted but exhilarated, they left the club and amidst themselves between the sea of bodies flooding out from the club.

Letting out a refreshed sigh, (name) turned to her friends. Her hair was dampened, her hot-rod curls once full of life and shine, had dropped, now frizzy and weightless. The fabric of her dress had clung to her sticky skin and her bag was hung at the edge of her shoulder.

“I’m so lit right now,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She wobbled on her two feet, swaying from side to side, pressing her weight onto one shoe and when she threatened to stumble to the side, hauling her weight onto the other.

“Me too,” Kayla replied, stumbling over Candace. She clung onto the woman, grasping onto her dress and pressed herself against the wall.

“I….I think–” Candace couldn't help but giggle to herself, dropping her head.

(name) smacked her lips, her eyes slowly peeling open and peered at the two women. She swallowed deeply, curling her lips in practice before she spoke. “You girls….wanna head off to Oasis?”

“Yeah.”

Both Kayla and Candace hummed in agreement and staggered to height. They adjusted themselves, sheepishly picking at each other, one fixing the other’s hair and the other fixing her dress as (name) collected her belongings into her bag.

“Aye!” A voice began. It was deep and hoarse, breathy as his mouth approached a few more words. “Aye miss!”

Though inebriated, (name) couldn’t mask her quickening discomfort as his heavy footsteps rattled behind her.

She tensed, hiking her shoulders and carefully turned. She wore a tight smile on her face, a mask of politeness.

“Yes?”

The man was tall, handsome, and smelt good. And yet, he failed to strike (name). As she stood before him, swaying from left to right, he grinned, bewitched by her charming features and supple figure.

He smiled at her, his eyes never leaving hers. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked good.”

(name) shook her head and waved her hand, feigning appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You know, I was watching you, inside, dancin’ and shit,” He laughed, tossing his head back. “You can shake that ass pretty good.”

“Thank you–”

“And I– lemme get your number.” His words were quick and sharp; his intent was clear.

“Oh,” she tittered, throwing a glance at her friends. “Well…I’m sorry but I’ve got a boyfriend–”

“You’ve got a boyfriend….” He repeated sullenly. He laughed heartily as if (name) had said the funniest thing ever and shook his head.

“Listen,” He began, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I promise you I ain’t no weirdo. No bear here.”

Kayla was prompt in grabbing (name’s) hand, making no effort to hide her disgust. She moved from behind her, Candace following in tow, and attempted to pull the girl along. “C’mon (name) let's go.”

Like a colossal giant, both the man and his voice grew towers tall. He gripped (name’s) arm and jerked her back. “Aye, I wasn’t done talkin’!”

(name) yelped, stumbling over her feet and sharply jeered her head at the man. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Just give me your number.” He demanded, digging his nails into her skin.

(name) profusely shook her head, quickly sobering up and attempted to pull away. “Let go!”

No more did the nice guy act continue, the man once cheerful and hopeful, sneered at (name), puffing out her chest and flaring his nostrils. He was quick to insult her, hurling a hail of curses aimed at her figure as he fiercely yanked her backwards, swinging her frame towards him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cursed at the top of his lungs, splatters of spit flailing out from his mouth. “You bitches are always too full of yourselves! Wanna act all uppity when a man wants to talk to you!”

“Then fucking let me go! The fuck!” By then, amidst the chaos, a crowd had gathered. Like a mob of meerkats, they gawked, gasped and videoed in disbelief at the rage pelting from the colossal of a man. They watched, uttering words of discomfort and dismay as (name) attempted to rear herself away from the man, thrusting herself against Kayla as she pulled her forward.

“I didn't even want to holler at your ugly ass anyways!” He roared, his voice loud and menacing.

“Oh my fucking god! Let me go! I don’t want to fucking talk to your stupid ass!” (name) shrieked back. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her lips pulled into an irritated scowl.

“Nah you fucking listen to me, bitch!” His voice erupted out from the vessels of his throat like a disgorging volcano, propelling a warcry in the wake of a lava-filled avalanche, in the form of a fist.

In a few short seconds, the colossal revolved free his arm, balling his into a fist and drew it back. He reigned his fists forward, fuelled with fury and humiliation, and swung at (name), striking her in the jaw.

She staggered to her floor with a loud yelp, the contents of her purse pooling across the floor. Both Kayla and Candace circled (name) in protest, pulling into their embrace as the colossal hovered above, jeering.

Candace gasped, her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she held (name’s) face between her palms. “(name)!” She cried, fretting her fingers across her face. “Are you okay?”

Sore but unharmed, (name) could manage a nod, nursing a hand to her swelling jaw. “I’m…I’m okay.”

Candace shot her head up and leered up at the colossal begrudgingly, shrieking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Rapidly, she climbed onto her feet, jumping between the colossal and her friend’s dazed figure, and glowering, waving her pointer finger and screeching like a banshee. “Do you like putting your hands on fucking defenceless women?! Huh! Do you think that’s okay?!”

“Aye, shut the fuck up! That bitch got what she fucking deserved—”

The neigh of engines and the screeching of hot tyres hailed across the strip, and the sound had bequeathed a play of silence across the beach.

The once vivacious party strip, nestled with drunk partygoers and deafening music, had quickly shimmered into silence. And all that sounded was the row of heavy footsteps mounting from the street onto the sidewalk. The footsteps marched into the crowd, dispersing the tide and began to section off each corner one by one as the clatter of a single pair of boots trotted forward.

Armando stared at (name), his face firm, and carefully crouched to his knees. It was a while before he spoke, his voice deep and guttural, his eyes boring into hers. “Are you okay?” Slowly, he brought his hands to her face and brushed his thumb against her jaw, the surface of her wound spreading purple with yellow blotches, and when she cowered back his expression darkened.

(name) could only utter a wary whisper, her eyes darting between him and the colossal behind him. “…yes.”

Inhaling deeply, Armando rose to height, hauling his girlfriend up to her feet. He held her hand in his, offering a forgiving glance and turned.

He clambered away from (name), his shoulders taunt and chin heavenward. Armando was angry– enraged. He did a good job of hiding it, but (name) knew the signs.

He wired his neck, rearing it from side to side and heaved slowly, his chest rising and falling. Every muscle on his face tightened, his eyes narrowed, and his chin jutted outward.

He approached the colossal, his arms pinned behind his back and gave him a once-over, sizing him up.

He blinked, parting his lips slowly, and then blinked again. “Do we have a problem?”

The colossal shook his head and feigned a hearty laugh, his pupils flared and mouth twisted. “Nah man, we’re cool–”

“Let me ask you again,” Armando snarled slowly, gritting his teeth together. “Do we have a problem?”

“Listen, man, I can assure you there’s no problem here–”

Armando sucked at the air like it had suddenly become thick and shut his eyes. He’d become deaf to his galling words, his rapid chatter professing a tale of ignorance and regard, a rapid back-tracking to his previously tough stance. And by then, his anger was irreversible.

He lunged at him; pummelling, hitting. Each hit landed with a sickening thud, the blow between skin and fist astounding. The man had swung back, wailing his fists in the air, but succumbed to the force of Armando’s blows. His movements were swift and silent, spectral. The pivot of his feet from place to place was incorporeal. He was impenetrable evading each wild blow before he swung again.

Armando flitted around the man, his movements a blur of speed and precision and winded his knee upwards. It prodded into his middle, driving into his chest, and sent him stumbling backwards, off-balance. His tumble left an opening, a gap between his face and Armando’s revolving leg.

He took the opening, rearing his leg upwards and swung it forward, striking. A rapid combination of punches and kicks followed, each came and landed with more precision and power till the colossal succumbed to near-coming death. He crumbled to the ground, in a grotesque mess of blood. His eyes were swollen over and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. He was now as revolting as he should be, finally, the outside reflected the spoiled man within.

Armando stood victorious over the bloody mess that was his adversary and sneered at him with such venom and disdain. He crouched down, his knuckles wounded with welts and stained with blood, not of his own, and grabbed his shirt, his grip like a vice.

He pulled him towards him, his face taut with rage and displeasure, and glowered over him. Under his grip, the man hung like cattle, his limbs astray as blood sputtered from out his mouth.

Armando rubbed his lips, swivelling on the balls of his feet, and gnashed his teeth together, chiding grimly. “You see..” he shook his head, his nostrils flared. “If it wasn’t for her…”

He turned to (name), lugging the man along and pointed. He leaned into his ear, his voice began small as a whisper and bubbled into a rue of senile and ghastly distaste. “…I’d kill you….”

“Consider this a warning–” Armando released his grip, the man flailing back onto the ground, and stood back on his feet. “You fuck with her, you fuck with me.”

He scowled, whipping his hands and leered at the crowd before him. In a stop-start fashion, one by one, the crowd fizzled out in groups of threes, fours, and fives. Song and chatter fizzled back across the strip in small bites and vivid hues flashed across the beach.

Armando turned to (name), his face closed up and extended his arm. He reached for her, placing her hand in his palm and grasped it tenderly. He held her hand to her face and wrapped her wound beneath her hand. He looked at her as her gaze trembled, her shoulders shivering and tugged her towards him. He held her in his arms, his tight embrace swelled around her middle and carefully coaxed (name) away.

Despite the return of vibrance and euphoria flooding across the party strip, an unsettling mist hung over. A monochrome of silver glanced over the black night. There was an uncharacteristically grim line etched across the faces of those among the dispersing crowd, a sense of sadness, remorse, dismay and dread.

Armando Aretas was not to be toyed with— and neither was she.

[satorugu]

In Every Era (Sukuna x f!reader)

She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.

Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, making out

Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. Both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included.

"There are three victims we need to find, correct?" (Y/N) clarified as the group walked down a corridor.

It was oddly lit, the sound of their shoes echoing off of the walls as they made their way through the juvenile detention center. This was simply an investigation, much easier than other missions they had received. As sorcerers, finding dead bodies was considered casual, but there was a slight chance they could run into something else.

A rumor of a special grade being discovered inside was circulating, meaning it could spawn at any moment.

Although it was just a rumor.

It was rare for cursed wombs to produce them, which is what caused the massacre in the first place.

"Yes, and the dog remembers the scent of the entrance," Fushiguro said, referring to the white dog trotting in front of them.

"Simple enough," Itadori nodded.

The second set of eyes underneath his pre-existing ones were contradictory to his own, with red irises that never showed a hint of emotion. Itadori was the opposite, almost always seen smiling or at the least content. (Y/N) hadn't seen the second pair close, as they never seemed to take their gaze off of her.

Every time she looked at him, she saw them staring back at her.

She thought it was coincidental, that they followed anyone who shot Itadori a glance, perhaps an intimidation tactic of Sukuna's.

His reputation already surpassed a level of intimidation though.

(Y/N) feared ever being in Itadori's presence when Sukuna came out.

Everyone did.

"Look!"

Both she and Fushiguro turned to the sound of Itadori's voice, seeing a corpse sitting in the back of the room they entered. Fushiguro crossed his arms, standing next to the pink-haired boy and taking in the sight.

"That's one down," he commented. "It's odd there aren't any others here."

"Yeah, wouldn't there be some sort of trail?" Itadori added, considering the behavior of a cursed womb.

The body was cut clean, the upper half being all that was left.

(Y/N) crouched down on one knee in front of the two, running her hand across the floor.

The cleanliness wasn't purposeful, she noted, as she felt dirt pick up on the pad of her fingers. No one had tried to stage this, if they did, the floors would be cleaned due to having to wipe up the blood.

"A cursed womb didn't kill him."

Then it clicked, uneasiness sinking into the three sorcerers like an injection.

Sweat budded on both Fushiguro and Itadori's foreheads, the two now frozen in place.

It was eerily silent, as (Y/N) felt the temperature around her hand drop. She was trying to muster up the courage to swallow, as she stared forward in horror.

They were supposed to investigate a detention center haunted by a cursed womb.

Not fight a special grade curse.

And now it was right next to them, closing the gap between Itadori and Fushiguro. Their only security from it was beheaded and bleeding out, that security being one of Fushiguro's Divine Dogs.

The special grade was different from most curses, having a human-like body that was well in shape. It was tall as well, with pale white skin and eyes attached to a pair of arches on its head.

(Y/N) huffed out a cold breath, cursed energy being conjured in her arm.

They were going to die if they ran.

And there was a low chance that they could beat a special grade.

A heaping amount of ice shot out of her hand on command. It formed a barricade between the curse and the sorcerers, causing the two boys to back up and snap out of their fear-induced trance.

It was only for a moment though, as a wave of pure force shattered it in return and sent all three tumbling back. It was like acid, burning through the floor and causing smoke to emit into the air.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened.

"We can't fight it! We need to find an exit!" Fushiguro shouted.

Her ice was supposed to be impenetrable, nothing had ever broken it like that before.

She was airborne.

The second she spent reflecting on the attack sent her flying backward again, as the special grade sent out another wave. She hit the wall immediately, turning the surface in on itself as an indent now marked it. The wind was knocked out of her lungs, watching Itadori pick up speed, making an attempt at close combat before being sent back in a similar fashion.

Fushiguro went to summon his second Divine Dog, clasping his hands together and opening his mouth.

But the words never came out.

Rather than a wolf appearing out of a shadow, an abnormal black hole appeared underneath him.

He fell in, his scream being cut off as soon as it shut.

The special grade curse turned to the two sorcerers, having separated the other.

Itadori shouted out in pain, falling to the ground after he had been tossed aside. He held onto his head like it was the end of his life, mumbling a spiel of panicked words that (Y/N) couldn't understand. She didn't pay that close attention to him though, distracted by the curse now approaching her.

It was forming another kind of cursed energy surge in its hand, aiming at her as she tried to form a counterattack.

The back of her head was bleeding, and a pounding headache formed across her forehead.

She was destroyed.

(Y/N) let out uneven breaths, standing up wearily and attempting to make another offense. She thought of freezing it, barreling towards the curse, and using the slipperiness of the ice to help her move even quicker. It was like skating, as she shot out a wave of ice that wrapped around the special grade, and trapped it.

There was a micro-expression of a smile on her face, before the solid block of ice began to glow orange.

A crack began to form on the exterior.

Then the entirety of it burst.

The special grade took its large claw around (Y/N) neck and lifted her up, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

It opened it's mouth, a massive sum of cursed energy forming inside as it aimed for her face.

This was death.

She couldn't breath, yanking against it's grasp and trying to free herself. Either she would suffocate from lack of oxygen, or have her face burnt to ashes.

She was a fool not to run.

(Y/N) saw the cursed energy dart out towards her, feeling the heat right against her eyes as she closed them for the last time.

It sounded like a blade cut straight through something.

Arms from the side of her slid around her back and under her legs, holding her bridal style as she collapsed in it's hold. She felt whatever was holding her land in a crouched position, still keeping her to itself.

She felt her head rest on a beating chest, a hot breath landing on her nose.

Her eyes opened to meet a pair of red irises staring back at her.

The silence was pregnant.

Sukuna.

The great amount of fear was evident in her expression, as she swallowed back and dared to move.

He set her down, as the sound of the Special Grade crying out could be heard from behind. Sukuna had took off it's arm, but it seemed to have grown it back, turning to face the King of Curses. It summoned a massive amount of cursed energy in it's hands, forming a sphere that shot out towards him.

"Pathetic."

With one hand Sukuna shielded both himself and (Y/N) from it, standing almost casually.

"Allow me to show you real Jujutsu Sorcery."

The Special Grade was still, horror evident in the screech it let out. The King of Curses raised his hands, putting them together in a specific formation.

This was ten times worse than being choked or burnt to death.

"Domain Expansion, malevolent shrine."

Suddenly, everything around them vanished, as a pitch black abyss consumed (Y/N)'s vision. The small, unkempt detention center had been remade into an atmosphere that she couldn't describe. She was sitting on water, a lake to be in fact. The entire floor was water, except for a Shrine that sat in the middle of it. It was built off of a pile of skulls, Sukuna standing on top of it all.

He had a white Kimono on, looking directly at the curse that was frozen next to her.

One moment it was there.

The next, it was cut into ten different parts, burned alive by purple flames.

She thought she was next.

Sukuna walked off of the pile, making his way towards her in the dimly lit domain.

(Y/N) thought of running, her heart pounding faster by each step he took. She was frozen in place, unable to get up as she looked into the eyes she had seen a thousand times. Always the same, always red, always emotionless.

She was thinking of the worst death possible, wondering if he had saved her only to kill her himself as he towered over her helpless form.

The King of Curses knelt down, as she sat leaning back on her hands.

"Soon, you will understand," were the words that left his mouth, as he pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead.

(Y/N) couldn't register what had transpired, as she felt an overwhelming amount of exhaustion kick in and couldn't resist falling asleep.

It was the Heian era, the golden age of Jujutsu.

(Y/N) fiddled with the red dress she was wearing, as she stood by the fountain in the garden. It fit her body well, with thin straps that showed off her shoulders.

This is where she spent her free time, away from the servants and maids. It was peaceful, always well kept and bright. The flowers were watered properly, and the stone that marked the grounds were always cleaned of dirt. There was no war here, it was fitting of her personality.

A familiar pair of strong, big hands wrapped around her waist, along with another pair coming to hold her upper arms, stroking her skin lightly.

She felt his gaze on her, as she held onto one of his hands and looked up at him.

"You were right, it is quite peaceful out here," her husband, Ryomen Sukuna, said.

"It's very fitting of you," she teased.

"Is that so?" he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her neck.

He felt her shiver, letting out a breathy laugh and turning around to face him.

The look in his eyes was filled with affection, a soft smile in place of an emotionless and deadly stare.

It was clear he was in love.

And so was she, as he picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Two of his arms held onto her upper thighs, while the other two rested on her head, one running their fingers through her hair, the other cupping the side of her face. If it wasn't for the fact that she was human, she might've not let go. Yet she broke away from him to catch her breath, resting her forehead against his.

Her hot breaths landed on his nose, as he held her up high enough to look down on him. She couldn't help but smile, as he refused to take his gaze off of her.

He leaned in, stopping just before their lips could meet, and whispered something.

"I will love you in every era."

For a moment she thought he was making an effort to be romantic, but it was clear in his tone that he was sure of it.

He would love her in every era, even if she didn't remember him.

(Y/N) shot up, and for a moment, she thought she was still in the detention center, stuck in the domain.

She was in her bed, the covers tucked in around her, arranged just how she liked. Her dorm was cleaner than she left it, an outfit sitting out for her by the desk. All of her wounds were fully healed, in fact, she hadn't felt this rested since she came here.

She reached for her phone, seeing that it was almost eleven in the morning. (Y/N) never slept in that late, nor slept that deep. The only reason she hadn't been woken up was because it was the weekend.

Then, she thought of her dream, and Sukuna's words from before.

Soon, you will understand.

(Y/N) threw off the covers hurriedly, putting on the outfit laid out without question and rushing towards the door.

She opened it to see both Fushiguro and Itadori standing outside in the hallway, talking amongst one another.

It was odd.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)!" Itadori exclaimed.

"Are you two okay?" she panicked, looking at Fushiguro specifically.

"Yeah, why?" he asked her.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, honestly, we both just woke up here."

"Yea, the Special Grade got taken care of, along with the three victims we were assigned to finding," Itadori added casually.

"By who..."

The boys both shot each other a look, shrugging almost comically. She didn't know what to say, as her eyes trailed down to the pair that were below Itadori's.

They were staring directly at her, once again.

She flushed and swallowed back, thinking of the dream she had. First, he kissed her, followed up by her somehow falling asleep and having a vision about the two of them. It wasn't the version of Sukuna that saved her though, it was his true form, the one that was most prominent during the golden age.

(Y/N) looked down at her outfit, eyeing the red top she had on.

It fit her body well, with thin straps that showed off her shoulders.

That wasn't a dream.

A/N: Part two?

[herpsandbirds]

can you tell me some cool facts about red eared sliders . i have one as my pet and i think he would want to know

Red-eared Sliders (Trachemys scripta elegans), family Emydidae

As with most water turtles, the females grow to be larger than the males.

Males usually have longer and thicker tails and long front claws (which they often wave in the females face during courtship).

As with most turtle species, they have temperature dependent sex determination. In this species, the warmer eggs become female and the cooler eggs become male (there is an intermediate temperature range in which the sex could be either).

In the wild, juvenile turtles tend to be mainly carnivorous and turn much more herbivorous as they grow older, although they are omnivorous at all stages of their life.

They are native to the southeastern United States, and outside of their range in other parts of North America and even in other parts of the world they are considered an invasive species.

[yellydany]

Had been struggling to design my version of a cockatrice but I think this result works! Meet Zeta🐣🐓 He goes through different stages: fledgling, juvenile and adult 

Inspired by the infamous Ridley from metroid (ferocity included) 

[genshin-impact-updates]

Version 4.5 Event Wishes Notice - Phase II

Travelers, stock up on weapons and characters in the event wish to make your party stronger in combat!

Event Wish "Decree of the Deeps" - Boosted Drop Rate for "Ordainer of Inexorable Judgment" Neuvillette (Hydro)!

〓Event Wish Duration〓

2024/4/2 18:00:00—2024/4/23 14:59:00

〓Event Wish Details〓

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 5-star character "Ordainer of Inexorable Judgment" Neuvillette (Hydro) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, the 4-star characters "Shining Idol" Barbara (Hydro), "Juvenile Galant" Xingqiu (Hydro), and "Wise Innocence" Yanfei (Pyro) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

※ Of the above characters, the event-exclusive character will not be available in the standard wish "Wanderlust Invocation."

※ This is for "Character Event Wish." The wish guarantee count for "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2" is shared, and is accumulated between both "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2." This wish guarantee count is independent of the guarantee counts of other types of wishes.

※ The "Test Run" trial event will be open during this event wish. Travelers may use fixed lineups containing the selected trial characters to enter specific stages and test them out. Travelers that complete the challenges will receive the corresponding rewards!

※ For more information, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

Event Wish "Leaves in the Wind" - Boosted Drop Rate for "Scarlet Leaves Pursue Wild Waves" Kaedehara Kazuha (Anemo)!

〓Event Wish Duration〓

2024/4/2 18:00:00—2024/4/23 14:59:00

〓Event Wish Details〓

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 5-star character "Scarlet Leaves Pursue Wild Waves" Kaedehara Kazuha (Anemo) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, the 4-star characters "Shining Idol" Barbara (Hydro), "Juvenile Galant" Xingqiu (Hydro), and "Wise Innocence" Yanfei (Pyro) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

※ Of the above characters, the event-exclusive character will not be available in the standard wish "Wanderlust Invocation."

※ This is for "Character Event Wish-2." The wish guarantee count for "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2" is shared, and is accumulated between both "Character Event Wish" and "Character Event Wish-2." This wish guarantee count is independent of the guarantee counts of other types of wishes.

※ The "Test Run" trial event will be open during this event wish. Travelers may use fixed lineups containing the selected trial characters to enter specific stages and test them out. Travelers that complete the challenges will receive the corresponding rewards!

※ For more information, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

Event Wish "Epitome Invocation" - Boosted Drop Rate for Tome of the Eternal Flow (Catalyst) and Freedom-Sworn (Sword)!

〓Event Wish Duration〓

2024/4/2 18:00:00—2024/4/23 14:59:00

〓Event Wish Details〓

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 5-star weapons Tome of the Eternal Flow (Catalyst) and Freedom-Sworn (Sword) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, the event-exclusive 4-star weapons Wine and Song (Catalyst) and Mitternachts Waltz (Bow), as well as 4-star weapons The Flute (Sword), Favonius Greatsword (Claymore), and Favonius Lance (Polearm) will receive a huge drop-rate boost!

● During this event wish, use Epitomized Path to chart a course towards a promotional 5-star weapon, such as Tome of the Eternal Flow (Catalyst) or Freedom-Sworn (Sword). For more information on Epitomized Path, go to the Wish screen and select Details in the bottom-left corner.

※ Of the above weapons, the event-exclusive weapons will not be available in the standard wish "Wanderlust Invocation."

[mydearzero]

Lisztomania | Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Years after joining the BAU, you thought you'd gotten past your little celebrity-like infatuation with Spencer, the whole reason you applied for the BAU. A case involving the murder of several groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band is bound to prove you wrong.

Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

4.7K words

It wasn't an everyday occurrence that Spencer would be the one to deliver the profile to the public. He looked a lot more stoic on TV than in real life. You never failed to be amazed by how he could still surprise you over the years. He looked confident, and it was a good look on him.

"-The man we're looking for is between the ages of 25 and 40. He is of an average build. He's likely socially inept and doesn't mingle well with his peers. Please be on the lookout for anybody who fits this description and contact the FBI through the local Police Department. Thank you." 

"Someone's gawking." Emily's words startled you out of your Spencer-induced trance. You crossed your arms and grumbled. 

"No, I wasn't..." You bit the inside of your cheek as Emily pat your shoulder and scoffed a laugh. 

"Sure, you weren't. I gotta give it to you. TV does Boy Wonder well." Emily said as she watched the head of the local Police Department take over the press conference as Spencer left the screen.

"I guess I'm just amazed at how different he looks while doing press. Compared to how he usually carries himself, I mean." You shrugged. Emily turned to look at you, no longer interested in the TV screen. 

"Guess that's the profiler in all of us. You can't help but compare. But you're right. Reid does have a certain je ne sais quoi about him, I suppose." 

_________

That was several months ago. It wasn't until you saw Spencer in front of a classroom that a familiar, uneasy feeling returned to your stomach. Emily was right. He did 'have a certain je ne sais quoi about him'. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was. 

"-Which is why it's crucial we always discuss the details of the COD with the coroner's office. COD being the Cause of Death, of course." Spencer spoke with an air of juvenile enthusiasm. You were glad he still had that part in him, despite everything that happened previous to his teaching.

He finished the class and was about to walk over to where you were leaning against the wall, waiting for him to finish. But when he was nearly done packing his satchel, a small group of college girls formed around his desk. The soft smile he'd directed at you was quickly cut short.

You stared in amazement at the girls' shameless flirting. Spencer had turned this group of brilliant and educated girls into giddy schoolgirls, all by just being himself. They all wanted a piece of him, and you started to have peace with the fact that you didn't blame them. You were in the same boat. 

_________

The final straw was during a case concerning a string of murders involving groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band. 

"I mean, I get the urge to throw your panties on stage at an attractive man. I do. Even I would've taken the bait with Nick Carter, given the chance. But to follow a random stranger down a dark alley in the hopes of meeting your idol? That seems a bit far-fetched. Girls this age are smarter than that, especially with the media frenzy." JJ flipped through the details described in the case file. 

"There's been several cases of fangirls going to great lengths to get what they want from their idol. The earliest case would probably be with Hungarian composer Franz Liszt in 1841. 

The term 'Lisztomania' came about in 1844, describing an intense level of hysteria demonstrated by fans, a bit like the treatment of celebrity musicians today – but in a time not known for such musical excitement. 

A more recent example would be Beatlemania, or even the so-called 'Bieber Fever' or 'One Direction Infection'. There have been several studies that explain this behaviour, but I won't get into that." Spencer trailed off. 

"I know someone else who had a case of that. But I think that was just called a hard-on." JJ joked, jabbing at Spencer's short-lived fling with Lila Archer over ten years ago. Spencer grumbled something along the lines of "Can we please let that go," but it fell on deaf ears. 

"It's still strange they would follow someone down the alley unless the person they're following has been established in the girls' minds as someone with authority, like a crew member connected to the band," Rossi mentioned. 

"Garcia, look into all the current members of the band's crew along with the people working at the venues. We're going to need you at the scene, too. There's a lot of social media involved. Thank you. Wheels up in 30." Hotch stood up, signalling the meeting was finished.

You walked with Emily back to the bullpen, Spencer following close behind. 

"You know, I get it. There's something attractive about a man with a platform, even if you put him on that pedestal yourself, to begin with." Emily said as you leaned against her desk.

"Yeah, for sure. It doesn't have to be a pop star or actor. A celebrity, even. Could be anybody under the right circumstances." You agreed. You could see the appeal in having an unrelenting devotion to someone like that. 

You put Spencer on a pedestal like that, in a way. You watched as he gathered his things into his go-bag. You knew he was a flawed person, like anybody. Yet, in your eyes, all his problems could be explained or ignored. You didn't notice the curious glance Emily sent your way. 

While on the jet, you contemplated the case. Would you have fallen for the ruse? Maybe if you had been a bit younger? You'd had your own little celebrity obsessions. You wouldn't have ruled it out if free tickets and a meet & greet were in the picture. 

It was a quick but convoluted catch once the profile was made. Thank you, Penelope. The UnSub was most likely one of the band's crew members who used to date the bassist. They'd broken up due to an increasing number of groupies getting in the way of their relationship. Go figure she'd go and murder them. 

The catch happened right in time with the start of the show, the bustling crowd missing all of the mayhem that had gone down backstage due to the support act. How the gigs hadn't been cancelled yet was beyond you. 

"You can stay and watch the show from the VIP area if you want. It's the least we can do, really. Though, maybe ditch the FBI gear." The lead singer had a charming smile. You could see how the crowd waiting for him could be captivated by his energy. 

After Hotch checked with the hotel and pilot, the team decided to take the band up on their invitation. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, you drove back to the venue in groups. 

You were escorted to a barricaded area near the front of the stage. The energy of the crowd was exhilarating. An electric tension hung in the air as the 30-minute change-over between the support was filled with soft music from a playlist. 

JJ and Rossi came bearing gifts, both carrying several drinks to hand out to the team. You thanked them as you took one, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink. You deserved to relax and enjoy a night like this after the gruelling case. 

You watched unabashedly at Spencer, red overhead lights casting down on his face. You'd like to see how he'd do on the stage, perhaps in an alternate universe, and with a different wardrobe. He was undoubtedly eclectic enough to pull off the whole rock star gig. 

He felt your gaze and made eye contact, working his way past a wildly gesturing Emily as she told a story. He lightly grabbed your upper arm when he reached you. 

"Hey." You saw his mouth move, but his words got lost under the chattering crowd. You smiled and leaned closer. 

"Hi! Fancy seeing you here!" You shouted. Spencer winced as he laughed. You'd obviously overestimated the volume of the crowd. You mouthed a quick apology before taking another drink. 

You nearly choked when Spencer leaned even closer, invading your personal bubble (that was already narrow), to talk directly in your ear. 

"Did you know that typical movement behaviour at large events like these increases the risk of spreading infectious diseases?" You bit your lip as you stopped yourself from laughing. Leave it up to Spencer to break the tension like that. 

"It makes sense, I guess. Lots of people, lots of bodily fluids. Kinda gross, now that I think about it," you replied. 

Just as he was about to speak again, the lights dimmed, and screams filled the stadium. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, afterwards turning to look at the show. He stood behind you for the majority of the show, and while you would've loved to admire him in the gorgeous lighting a little longer, you couldn't have asked for a better person to have rubbed up against you for an hour and a half. 

After the show, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest ahead of their early flight the following day. The rest headed out to a bar just around the corner of the venue. You walked quickly, the cold of the outside being a jarring change from the heat at the concert. 

You were a few drinks in when Penelope brought up a subject you'd somehow managed to avoid all these years.

"If I hadn't joined the FBI, I would've liked to be some sort of celebrity," She mentioned, taking another sip through her straw. 

"Considering the type of psychos we encounter on a daily basis, I'd rather be less known, not more." Emily shuddered. You were quick to agree. Although fame was attractive on some level, you wouldn't want to risk situations like those you'd witnessed these last few days in exchange. 

"What made you want to become an agent in the first place?" Penelope turned to you before continuing. "I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was jail or the FBI, and I'm not jail material. I mean, look at me!" She gestured wildly to herself. 

You chuckled and decided to pick an opt-out answer. "I just saw it as the right thing to do, you know? Make the world a better place, even if it's only little by little." You shrugged.  

Spencer squinted as he ran his eyes over your face. "Bullshit." He determined. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his callout. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned genuinely. Sure, you hadn't been entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie. 

"You're lying, I can tell. You do that thing with your face. Besides, that's the most basic answer ever. Surely a person with as much integrity as you do would have a better reason than a moral superiority complex." Spencer stated matter-of-factly. You gaped at his accusation. 

"He's right, though. You have no connection to the Bureau. Reid is a wunderkind, Garcia is basically an ex-con, and I'm a child of nepotism. What made you apply? And for the BAU of all places?" Emily wondered out loud. 

You recoiled as you realised there was no getting out of this. If you were going to dance around the subject, Penelope would get too curious, anyways. She'd have your application and its details pulled up in no time. That, along with cross-referencing the BAU with your college, it wouldn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened. 

"I actually followed a lecture on sexual sadism and the Mill Creek Killer back in college that made me wonder if I'd be cut out for it." You admitted, omitting some key details. 

The one secret you'd sworn to take to your grave was that Spencer was the sole reason you were with the FBI in the first place, having followed one of his guest lectures a few years back. 

He hadn't even left the room before you'd turned in your online application to the Academy. 

"Why not mention that in the first place? God, no need to be so secretive about it." Penelope whined. You didn't answer as you tentatively sipped your drink, feeling busted for no reason. 

You glanced up to look at an overly smug and amused Spencer. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised you were most definitely caught. 

"You know, when Hotch first introduced us to you, I thought I recognised you from somewhere. But the memory I have of that lecture is actually overshadowed by this kid who was also there, Nathan Harris. He ended up killing some prostitutes. But now that you mention it, you did go to Georgetown, didn't you?" Spencer knew he was right. He just wanted to see how you were going to talk yourself out of this one. 

"Oh, you gave that lecture? I never realised..." It was a pathetic lie, and there was no hiding it. Emily snorted out loud. She'd clocked your little 'thing' for Spencer long ago, you knew that much. 

"Aww, you looked up to Spencer? That's so cute!" Penelope gushed. That sure was one way to put it. You made a face that must've said as much. 

"What, you didn't look up to me? I'm offended. Here I thought I was your favourite professor." Spencer joked. He excused himself as he walked to the bathroom. Great timing, as it gave you time to rid your cheeks of the flush you were sporting. 

"Be honest with me. And don't bother lying because we've all seen the heart eyes you throw at Pretty Boy. Were you genuinely interested in joining because of the subject matter? Or..." Emily encouraged you to answer. 

You sighed as you brought a hand to your face. "Honestly? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be him or be with him. But at least I signed up for the class out of genuine interest! There were plenty of girls there that were there purely for the hour-long eye candy!" You defended yourself. 

"And you applied for the Academy after the lecture? At least it must've been interesting." Penelope wondered out loud. 

"Actually..." You winced. "He'd hardly even been done with his introduction before I'd filled in the online application. But I was very single, okay? And he'd already built up this celebrity status on campus." It felt nice to admit to it after years of harbouring it. 

"Oh! You naughty little fangirl!" Penelope exclaimed. 

"I'm not a fangirl! It's been years!" You groaned. You took it back. It didn't feel nice. You should've kept it to yourself. 

"Who are you a fangirl of?" Spencer asked, putting a new glass in front of Emily and sitting back down by your side. 

"You! She's a total groupie." Penelope betrayed you. You shot her a nasty look, but it went ignored by her drunken, self-satisfied glee. 

"Is that so?" Spencer turned to you with his eyebrows raised. 

"Oh yeah, total Reidiac. You should give her an autograph." Emily winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head at their antics. 

The conversation moved on, but you felt the dynamic between Spencer and you had changed, even when unspoken. When Penelope and Emily were caught up discussing cats, Spencer leaned against your side, whispering in your ear once more. Unlike last time, he didn't break the tension, even when telling another fact. 

"Garcia called you my groupie earlier. Do you know the textbook definition of the term 'groupie'?" His voice was huskier than usual, coated with the alcohol and late hour. You shook your head timidly, urging him to continue. 

"A groupie is typically explained as a young woman who regularly follows a celebrity, especially in the hope of having a sexual relationship with them." His lip brushed against your ear as he whispered the words. A cold chill went down your spine at his insinuation. 

"You're no celebrity, Spence." You answered apprehensively. He didn't move, still leaning into your side, out of sight. You couldn't gauge his expression. 

"Maybe not in the classic sense of the word. But I have a Wikipedia page. Surely, that amounts to some celebrity status." He joked. You closed your eyes, tension slowly disappearing after the vibe of the conversation changed back to casual banter. 

Was he insinuating what you thought he was? 

You got your answer as soon as the four of you headed to the hotel. You bid your goodbyes to Emily and Penelope before turning to put the keycard in the door to your room. You heard a couple of doors close, and just when you turned the handle, there was a hand on your shoulder, pushing you inside and closing the door. You whipped around, only to be faced with Spencer. 

"Spenc-" 

"You deflected earlier." He interrupted. 

"Deflected what?" Your heart was racing. Whether from the shock of his sudden intrusion or the proximity, you weren't sure. 

"The definition of a groupie. And how Garcia is right, you totally are one." 

You gaped at the insinuation. 

"Don't look shocked now! You are totally one of those girls who audit my class." He grinned. 

"You wish! I'll have you know you were scrawny at best when you gave that one lecture I attended." You huffed, crossing your arms. 

"Were scrawny? Past tense?" Spencer egged you on. 

"Shut up. You know you've built up some muscle since then. Hell, maybe you even grew a couple of inches." You rolled your eyes. 

Spencer decided to ignore the comment and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He finally pulled something out, looking way too smug for his own good. "I brought a Sharpie. You know, for your autograph." 

Fine. If he wasn't going to stop this ridiculous teasing, you were going to cross the 'groupie' line. 

"Oh my god! I like, totally want your autograph, Spency!" You started, looking him dead in the eyes as your hands made their way to the hem of your shirt. 

"Will you sign my tits?" You challenged, lifting your top far enough to expose your bra to its fullest extent. 

Spencer obviously hadn't expected that, struggling to come up with a quick-witted response. You shrugged as you took the shirt off. 

"I see. You require a larger surface area. I get it. Big ego, bigger signature." Spencer finally broke when you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. 

"Hey, hey. Stop. I can sign them like this just fine, sweetheart." You knew he was simply going along with the rockstar act, but the nickname sent blood rushing to your cheeks either way. 

"Okay, hot shot." You smirked, pushing your chest out. He hadn't expected you to actually let him sign your chest. He scrambled to take the cap off. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. 

"Stand still. You want it to come out perfect, don't you?" 

You held your breath when he brought the Sharpie up to your breasts. You looked at his face as he appeared laser-focused on giving you the best autograph of your life. Why was it that such a stupid joke felt like the most sensual experience of your life? 

The tip of the Sharpie tickled as it danced across your chest. He finished the signature with a dot on the I in Reid. 

"There, perfection." He whispered, but his eyes were no longer glued to your scantily clad upper body. You searched his face for hesitation but only found his determined gaze settled on your parted lips. 

He made eye contact as if asking permission. You'd barely nodded before his hands cupped your face, and lips were on yours, sucking all the air out of your lungs. His body pressed up against your own, frantically shedding the layers keeping you separated. You kept kissing him while desperately reaching for his belt. 

You hadn't noticed you'd slowly made your way to the bed in the back of the hotel room until Spencer pulled away to remove his tie. You let yourself fall onto the sheets, ridding yourself of your bottoms. They got stuck at your ankles as you forgot your shoes. 

"I got it." Spencer's voice was unrecognisably hoarse. He kicked off his own shoes and made his way over to the bed in only his boxers. He tugged at your shoes after undoing the laces and discarded them somewhere in the room. 

You'd never seen a sight quite like Spencer leaning over you as he rested one knee on the bed. He put his hand beside your face and you met his eyes. His head blocked the dim yellow ceiling light, lighting him perfectly from behind. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look, even in these stereotypically sinful circumstances. 

"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked. Always considerate. What a gentleman.

"I've been sure ever since that stupid lecture, dork." You joked. Spencer smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss under your ear. His breath was hot on your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, down to his crudely placed signature. 

You leaned on your elbows as Spencer reached behind your back to finally unclasp your bra. You let your back meet with the sheets again as he pulled the straps down your arms. You heard him take a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. 

You pulled him down for another kiss, unsatiable now that you'd gotten a taste. His hands reached for your chest and experimentally pinched a nipple. You inhaled sharply through your nose. The combined sensation of his mouth and large hands on your body, as his hips sought more and more friction, was delectable. 

His hands slowly reached further down, toying with the edge of your underwear. 

"Don't tease." You whined, already too riled up. 

"Patience is a virtue," Spencer murmured against the skin of your jaw, hooking his finger under the elastic band. 

"Patience, my ass, Reid. I need you." It came out more desperate than you intended, but it seemed to do the trick. He yanked the underwear down your legs, followed by his own. 

"Condom?" He asked. You shook your head. 

"Don't care. I'm clean, and God knows you are. Wanna feel you." You answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Spencer laughed, taking his cock in his hand and running it through your folds. 

"Have you met yourself? You won't even shake hands, Doct-oh, oh Jesus Christ." Spencer interrupted your banter by sliding inside in one go. You closed your eyes as you pulled him close, begging him to kiss you. 

He slowly started moving as you regained your ragged breath. The low grunts falling from his lips against yours were magical, but you wanted more. Your fingers made their way up to his hair, tentatively tugging at the roots. Your grip tightened at a particularly harsh thrust, and Spencer's response was everything you were searching for. 

"Holy fuck, oh my God- Uh-" His grunts slowly tuned whinier as you kept your grip on his hair. He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts. 

"Look at me, baby." He moaned in your ear. He leaned back, and your eyes fluttered open, though with difficulty. Your instinct was to squeeze them shut with pleasure. He looked ravenous, pupils blown wide, panting with the physical effort. 

You lazily wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him even closer. 

"Shit, Spencer," you moaned as the new angle reached a spot inside you you'd only ever dreamed of. Your eyes squeezed shut again, unable to keep them open. Spencer removed the hand rubbing your clit and moved it to your chin, placing a small kiss on your lips.

"Eyes on me, come on. I know you can do it." He encouraged. Something about his coercive tone let you know there was a side to Spencer you had yet to see. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of his eyebrows furrowed with effort. 

The noises coming from Spencer sped up along with the desperate pace of his hips. The combination of his whines with yours and the sound of skin on skin was anything but serene. You felt yourself nearing the edge, clawing at his back in an attempt to ground yourself. 

"Spencer! Fuck, oh my god," it was hardly distinguishable what you were saying, mumbles of pleasure stringing together into an unintelligible mess. His cock slid again and again and- you couldn't take it. 

Your hands left his hair in favour of running your nails harshly over his back. Spencer was seemingly a glutton for pain, moaning at the sensation. 

  "I- Shit, I'm gonna cum. D'you want me to pull out?" Spencer's thrust faltered. You knew you had to answer fast. You tightened your grip on him with your legs. 

"Please, Spencer. Please come inside me. Want to feel you cum." You begged. 

"Fuck, okay. Okay. O-" His head dropped down to your shoulder as his unrelenting hips sped up one more time, bringing you both to your high. You felt his cock twitch as your walls tightened around him. 

"Spencer!" You shouted as you came, feeling him spill inside you. 

"So good for me. So gorgeous. Perfect." Spencer mumbled as he peppered you with kisses, hips slowing down as he came down from his high. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.  

Spencer carefully pulled out, making sure not to spill anything and soil the sheets. He stepped off the bed and spread your legs, before leaning back down and licking a drop of cum threatening to spill. 

"Shit, Spencer! Too sensitive!" You pushed his head away. He laughed before heading to the bathroom, returning with a dampened towel. 

The nighttime routine that followed felt domestic. You peed, brushed your teeth, ignored the sight of his signature and hickies on your boobs, and headed to bed. 

"Can I borrow your toothbrush?" Spencer asked from the bedroom. He hadn't asked to stay. But then again, you hadn't asked him to leave. You didn't want him to. 

"You just licked your own cum from my vagina, and you ask if you can borrow my toothbrush? Be my guest, Reid." You scoffed, lying down under the sheets. 

"Hey, people have their preferences, okay? Didn't want to overstep." Spencer said as he returned from the bathroom, lying down beside you. 

Against your better judgement, Spencer stayed. You knew the entire team would be up and around, bright and early. But you didn't care. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

He left early the following morning. You were sure he hadn't had nearly enough beauty sleep. He could nap on the plane, you shrugged. There were no regrets from either party over the loss of sleep. 

You hadn't thought too much about your outfit before heading down to breakfast. An honest mistake one can make when staying up late and getting up early. You were exhausted, let alone hung over. You realized your mistake when the ever-stoic eyes of Aaron Hotchner immediately snapped down to the tank top you were wearing the second you stepped out of the elevator, the words 'Spencer Reid' still obscenely sprawled across your chest, accompanied by several suspicious bruises. 

Your eyes went wide as you followed his gaze, quickly zipping up your hoodie. How could you possibly have forgotten that part? You met Hotch's eyes. Before you could try to babble yourself out of this one, he held up a hand to stop you. "I don't want to know."

You clenched your lips as you nodded. "Noted, bossman."

The small smile tugging at the corner of his lips didn't escape you, and neither did the exchange of money between him and Rossi not 5 minutes later.