#Forensic Science track | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burymagdalene · 3 months ago

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Heat Lightning: Part I – Smyster - S. Reid x Reader

When the team joins another behavioral analysis unit in an attempt to help them track down a serial killer attacking throughout Texas, Spencer finds himself drawn to the new profiler aiding in the investigation. Working alongside her, Spencer begins to feel a deeper connection, both professionally and personally as he yearns to know her more intimately.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Angst (Criminal minds thriller themes) & fluff tags: Spencer Reid x bau!female reader, bloodsplatteranalyst!reader, reader has bruises from a case, a tad suggestive, Spencer is horny and scared, murder, kidnappings, graphic depictions of yearning, dangerous heat wave, reader is a little cold and misunderstood… not by Spencer though! wc: 6.2k a/n: Part 1/2 of my bau!reader duology! I really wanted to give myself enough space to be able to write all the build up and the longing and the pining that I wanted and that Spencer is capable of!

Smyster

Scots; to smile to yourself while you daydream.

The first time Spencer saw you was when you exhibited a brutal beauty– a bloody nose and black eye as you walked out of the room he had just entered with quick feet as you rudely bump into his shoulder upon your exit.

The BAU was called in to help alongside your team in a case in Texas, though the department you worked for had credible merit, whatever psychopaths you were working with needed the folks in Quantico for extra help.

Only slightly vexed (overdressed for the unrelenting sun), more confused, Spencer does a double take at your unit chief in his bewilderment.

“Don’t worry. She’s fussy about needing extra help even though her face looks worse than the unsub’s partner, and he’s dead.”

“A profiler?” Spencer mutters and looks behind him through the small glass window of the door to see you sitting on a desk talking to someone else on your team, arms crossed.

“Yeah. Came from forensic science, blood splatter analyst, decided to keep her around. Weird chick, definitely a hemophiliac.”

“Hm. I think you mean hematolagniac.” Spencer makes eye contact with you through the window. “Do you usually criticize your team behind their back?”

“Whatever, kid. You’ll get it when you talk to her.”

Head aching, and sweat prickling his hairline, Hotchner interrupts their strange first impression.

“SSA, Hotchner. This is Dr. Reid, our expert on well- everything. SSA Morgan, Greenaway, and our communication liaison Jennifer Jareau. We understand that these mass serial murders are being enacted in a killing team, but the dominant partner is yet to be found?”

One last up and down at Spencer and the other unit chief replies, “Correct. Seems like they were working as a pair in serial-turned-spree killings all over Houston. Caught the submissive earlier today and nearly wiped out a couple members of our team. We barely have a handle on the media, it’s absolute pandemonium all over Texas. Too much for us to handle alone, so we called you in.”

Hotchner nods curtly, Spencer can tell by the way his eyebrows pinch that he’s already overwhelmed. "We'll take a look over the behavioral profile you’ve begun. Let’s get the details on the submissive’s history, who they’ve interacted with, and what we can learn about their relationship dynamic. We need to understand what keeps them tethered to the dominant. We’ll also help control the media fallout. Get ahead of the narrative before it spirals further. JJ, meet with the folks with the Texas Tribune, we need to stave off mass panic.”

The door swings open, Spencer can feel eyes on the back of his neck before speaking, “I’m guessing the ‘spree’ part is the hard part. The submissive may be trying to protect the dominant. Any intel on him?”

The unit chief exhales sharply, eyes narrowed. "The dominant? They’re careful. Smart. And best believe the submissive may be the key to finding them. But he was shot before he gave us any information. We need leverage.”

Hotchner looks at each of them, then turns back to the chief. “We’ll start with your submissive. They’re our first lead.”

After setting up shop, Spencer has heard enough gossip from his team and yours to have his interest increasingly heightened and to be thoroughly frightened. Fifteen men and women have died in the past three days, bodies scattered in no recognizable pattern, and five currently missing. The missing persons billboard was enough to churn his stomach.

Battered and bruised, he looks at you pouring coffee from the corner of the office. He now has more of an explanation for your crudeness, not that it even affected him. He doesn’t know you. Once cornered, unsub number 1, Darren Hawthorn, responded with immediate hostility, butcher knife in hand approaching you before being shot by another member on your team.

A clusterfuck of a case.

Not that he’s profiling you, but he is. Your self confidence is shot after your boss called the Quantico BAU in. Shell Shocked by the attack and humiliated by the call for help- you had no desire to talk to this new team that is making you feel less than adequate.

But if he was going to help with this case, the two teams are going to have to trust each other. Spencer is going to have to understand the person with the most interaction with Hawthorn before his passing, you.

Tapping his fingernails anxiously on the wooden desk, Spencer stands to approach where you’re languidly sipping the black coffee.

“Ahem. Excuse me? I’m Dr. Reid. Um, Dr. Spencer Reid. I thought to introduce myself and ask you a few questions about Darren Hawthorn, if that’s ok?”

With a brutally slow turn, you look over your shoulder with a scowl, albeit, one that was smaller than the scowl you gave him when he first walked in. The sensitive skin under your right eye is bruised, matching the bruise on your cheek. Lip swollen and cut.

“I don’t really think we need any help.” You settle on after a beat of silence.

Tell that to your black eye, he thinks.

“Um. Regardless if you do… we’re here and I’m willing to help. You’re hurt pretty badly too. Is there anything specific you noticed about the manner Hawthorn attacked, he used his fists, which was obviously different from the butcher knife wounds on the victims. He was armed with one too, right?”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t trying to kill me. Kicked my ribs really hard too. Some sort of humiliation ritual, I think. Now there’s a whole new team here, and we have to spend precious time explaining the details to you all when we can handle it. Embarrassing.”

You turn around to face him, placing your mug on the table.

“Ha, hot coffee is an interesting choice, it’s so hot out here.”

Spencer is met with two wide eyed and expressionless blinks. He has a desperate nagging feeling to start off on a good foot with you, he tries again.

“I don’t think you should be embarrassed. A-actually. A few months ago we were working with um, an LDSK, a long distance-”

“I know what it is.”

“S-sorry, of course you do. Um. A LDSK, and he held me and my unit chief hostage. In order to manipulate him, SSA Hotchner had to pretend to have all these grievances towards me. Asked to kick the crap out of me so I could grab his gun from his leg. Anyway, I got a faux belittling session and a few hard kicks to the ribs. We all go through embarrassing stuff.” He punctuates his story with a tight-lipped smile.

She smiles!

A small up-turn to the corner of your cut lip after he finishes. He feels himself getting uncomfortably nervous. Spencer realizes he finds you incredibly beautiful.

A wince– the smile you cracked making your cut lip sting. You bring a finger to touch the wound lightly, checking for blood.

“That make you feel better?” Spencer can’t help but continue. The conversation ending is stressing him out, words coming out in an unconscious stream.

“It did. I can imagine that. Vividly.”

“Okay. Well I’m going to try to not take offense to that.”

You smile again, awkwardly, trying to keep one side of your mouth from turning up and sequentially wincing another time while laughing. It makes Spencer’s heart flutter.

It makes him laugh.

“W-what?” Your brows furrow to their defensive default mode again.

Spencer fumbles. He’s not sure what to say. Hurting your feelings is the exact opposite reaction he wants from you.

“You just- um. I hope your lip heals quickly.”

He’s forgetting he’s also talking to a profiler. You read him quickly, social cues sharper than Spencers by a long shot. Like bells ringing in your ears, you know what he was smiling at.

“It kind of makes me look tough. Um. Ha, searing pain still though.”

“Well, lips heal relatively fast. They have a rich blood supply-”

You cut him off with a laugh.

“You’re singing to the choir, Dr. Reid. I know.”

Shame creeps up his spine. Twice now he’s rambled off on things it would be considered foolish of you not to know, he can’t help himself from running his mouth. Forensic science, Spencer. Blood splatter analyst, Spencer!

“Your unit chief did mention forensic science, I apologize.”

“That’s alright.” you move and pick up your mug of coffee again, “It tastes better when it’s incredibly hot out.”

“I don’t- that can’t be true, it’s unbearable in here.”

“Because you’re wearing a shirt, vest, and blazer. Try it.” Your hands push out your cup as an offering. Spencer's gaze flickers over your knuckles rubbed raw before anxiety settles in his limbs about what was happening before him.

Spencer takes your mug. The rim has a small chip that makes him think, just like its owner's lip. He lifts to his mouth and takes a scalding sip. The flavor is what offends him first, no sugar either. The warmth is second to it, Spencer just wanting to chug water after to rinse the murky taste out of his mouth.

He must’ve been wearing a disgraced look on his face as you start laughing at his reaction. He’s never had much control over his facial expressions. Before he can reply, Derek has sauntered over.

“He usually takes about a gallon of sugar in his coffee. I wonder why he’d be so open to sharing like that. Complex guy.” Voice coated in sarcasm, Spencer’s embarrassed pink flush develops at the top of his chest.

“It- it’s just two teaspoons usually!”

“Two teaspoons, where?”

Unnaturally offended by Morgan’s teasing in the face of somebody he was trying to impress, he shifts his gaze over to scan your face for judgment. A small exhale of relief through his nose when there’s not. Just your fingers pressed slightly to your cut as you smile a wide grin looking over to him.

“Dr. Reid, you have to stop making me smile or my cut is going to reopen.”

𓆱

Spencer is cursing himself for his attire as he’s posted in a junkyard with an uncompromising sun shining down on him. As he looks into the distance he can see the heat moving against the air in small swirls and currents.

There was a report from the junkyard's owner that a car model that matched the unsub’s license plate was dropped off earlier today to be crushed. Since the junkyard might be linked to the suspect in some way, Spencer and Derek are watching for any suspicious activity around the junkyard to see if the unsub returns, attempts to retrieve something, or communicates with anyone.

While Derek and another member from your team are looking at the car for any evidence left behind; blood, weapons, fingerprints, Spencer sits on an old lawn chair from the yard as he squints through his sunglasses for any suspicious activity.

The second day on the case trumps the first in terms of heat. Spencer picks at the skin of his thumb to avoid focusing all his attention on the inescapable summer heatwave clogging his lungs.

His mind feels heavy and hazy. Waiting is the worst part. Beside him plays an old radio that’s reporting live news updates, he’s listening through the static to hear if any confidential information gets released after JJ’s meeting with them. Damage control playing the role of short form entertainment.

“Hey! Come here, we found something!”

Rolling out of the chair he was sitting on painfully stiff as the percentages of germs on unused junk rattle off in his brain like atoms bouncing off each other’s repulsive electromagnetic forces, Spencer makes his way to the pried open trunk.

“Yeesh.” Is all he can make out upon first glance. Different patterns of wet to dry splotches of blood adorned the fabric upholstery and rusted metal of the roof. There must have been way more victims than what he anticipated.

So the unsub has never even been bothered to clean where he has stored endless wounded bodies. Interesting. This clearly showcases how blasé it all has been to him, how certain he is in never being caught.

“Let me call Hotchner, he can notify any medical examiners on sight.” Derek adds with an affronted groan. He turns away from the trunk, avoiding its Pollock of gore.

The other profiler Spencer has yet to be introduced to speaks up, “No need,” a slight laugh forming in his tone, “We can handle this ourselves. We’ve got forensic pathology on our team.”

Spencer’s head snaps to your teammates fingers dialing your number. His heart starts pounding. He hasn’t seen you since yesterday, Spencer nearly forgot that he went up to you to console you about his being there. This is indeed that being there.

With a few items left on the floor of the car being placed into plastic baggies for evidence, Spencer’s skin flushes underneath his rubber gloves as he hears the tell-tale sound of a car grinding over compacted dirt as you enter the crime scene.

Riddled with nerves, when he looks over to the sound of the door closing, he keeps his head low as if not to seem too eager to see you. Backfiring immediately, Spencer is met with brown boots and jean shorts that make him move his eyes up to your face in fear of staring too long and seeming inappropriate.

“Hey.” you start, walking briskly over to the trunk, shooting Spencer a look from above your sunglasses that makes his stomach tumble over itself.

He tries to blink away the stars in his eyes at your personalized greeting towards him. Spencer does not need you to think he’s the freak on the team who grins ear to ear next to a car trunk covered in blood.

You step forward, leaning over the trunk briefly, carefully eyeing a particularly grotesque smear that leads to a dark corner of the space. The layers are thick, chock-full and stacked upon each other, creating shadows of different shades etched everywhere.

The darkest areas are so thick that there is a noticeable protrusion due to the layering that juts out from the wall. Dark and oppressive, the red bleeds so inky that they appear to be holding secrets– secrets about the victims' last moments– secrets like dark corners closing in around Spencer. A deep red akin to the darkness he stares into at night that mobilizes his fears and plays tricks on his eyes.

Spencer’s gut tightens, woozy and sweaty from the suffocating heat and dreary images in front of him.

Trying to focus through the dizziness swirling in his head, his throat tightens, but he forces himself to speak. “What do you think happened here?”

A soft hum, a gentle noise that acts as a soothing cool across his warmed forehead– “Yeah. This suggests they were either dragged or forced to move here after the initial injury, look. The pooling blood… it’s like it didn’t just happen all at once. It layers overtime. The peeling here shows that it’s not new. It could be a week or days old, it’s hard to tell because it’s so hot out, that could impact the drying process.”

Spencer forces his burning gaze off your cheek to the protruding splotch on the wall, where the blood has dried in almost mutilated ridges.

“It looks like something was… lodged there. Like someone fell against it.” He takes a slow breath, trying to steady his shaking hands. “Sorry.”

“Right,” you comfort, “So obviously his drive to take victims to their specific drop off points to die entails there’s significance in the different locations. Even though they’ve all been different.”

Derek clears his throat, “What do you make of the really dark places? It’s like there’s intention in having the wound bleed out over the same spot, nowhere else looks like that corner. Surely it’d be difficult and out of his way to position them to be bleeding out in identical areas of the trunk.”

You exhale softly, your tone dry. “Mhm. And it's not just about the blood. It’s about what the blood’s telling us about what happened before. Whoever left this, they didn’t just hurt the victim… they tried to erase something, cover something up in my opinion.”

Spencer picks anxiously at his skin again, “So, they wanted the victim’s last moments to disappear. Have every ending the exact same way to remove individuality.”

Meeting his eyes, you smile softly, seeing through this inopportune moment of weakness for Spencer. “Nasty stuff. That's what we need to figure out. What they were hiding in this before the blood.”

𓆱

Both teams called in, the junkyard is swarming with agents and police officers. Spencer’s back on the longchair he wished he’d seen the last of, but with this heat he has no other choice but to sit down.

Standing, no, looming over where his bad posture droops him over his knees, you cast an observant and protective eye on him.

“You alright?”

Despite the swelling in his throat, he has no qualms with responding to you.

“I’m really hot.”

“It gets pretty dangerous being outside for extended periods of time in this heat wave. How long have you been out here?”

“Hm. Four hours and twelve minutes.”

You smack your lips at him, “You’re going to get a sunburn.”

Spencer's eyes crack open then. He wasn’t even thinking about that.

“Actually,” you begin, a teasing voice beginning to take over your usual cadence, “I think I can see some pink already on the back of your neck.”

Before Spencer can retaliate, mutter something along the lines of: No! I’m just blushing! or No! A sunburn on top of everything would send me spiralling!, he feels the gentle pressure of your nail pointing, grazing, against the back of his neck.

Out of a flustered reflex, he brings his hand to swap away your finger. Instead of getting offended, you giggle at him, the same finger checking your lip again. Within 48 hours you’ve developed a nervous tick– checking that cut religiously. Spencer is reminded that just the other day you could’ve been killed, he feels guilty about whapping your hand like a stuck up cat.

“Sorry. I didn’t hurt you did I?” He mumbles to his feet, too shy to meet your gaze all of a sudden.

“Are you kidding? You’re fine, I’m not made of glass.”

The tone of your sentence decrescendos into a smaller, less confident delivery. Halfway through realizing the irony in your statement being muttered through battered lips. You sigh gently, reminded how indicative your bruising is of what you went through, walking around with a scarlet letter that demands unwanted remorseful attention.

Trying to change the topic as soon as you are able you start up again, “I have some. In the car. Would you like-”

“Yes. Yeah, please.” Spencer does a gentle laugh in return. He does not know how to act around you, it pains him like for the first time he has no knowledge on a subject that he deeply longs to– you.

Spencer’s tongue runs languidly over his bottom lip, as a balm or as an anticipatory reflex, could be anybody’s guess, as he watches you speed walk to your car.

He starts to roll up his sleeves, sacrificing sun protection for the release of built up heat that seems to engulf him more as you’re around. It’s frustrating, he thought living through the childhood crushes he’s had on girls damaging his esteem would be enough to release him from these encompassing thoughts of touch. Of skin on skin contact.

That’s what it is too, childish. The way he’s fawning and fidgeting with tension around you— it’s taking him back to being fifteen and irritable with hormones. Yet here he is, unprepared and floundering once again in the presence of a pretty face, pretty mind, worst of all.

Spencer, like it or not, is back where he promised himself never to be again after he was tied to a goalpost and humiliated for believing a girl had a crush on him.

Indeed back, he scratches his arm and curiously eyes you under the hidden confines of his dark sunglasses. If he slips, the staring could be seen as a gaze towards you as if you were a popsicle that he could be licking to placate his whirling sun kissed skin. Maybe it would be mango? No, lime. Sour and sweet that not everyone has a taste for. Licking and licking as it melts under the woozy rays of sun, dripping down Spencer’s fingers.

But that’s definitely not what his staring is about…

Just before Spencer’s thoughts can get into uncharted territory you’re walking back over to where he’s sitting, SPF 50 shining in front of him so confrontational he gets awkward thinking about everyone on site seeing his unfortunate need for it.

Making eye contact with it momentarily, he shifts his eyes up to your face, your eyebrows raised slightly. Hand still holding it out for Spencer to take.

A second passes, then, “Are you going to take it?”

Shaking his head to reset his social battery, Spencer laughs at himself and takes it from your hand. “Sorry, thank you, I just…”

“Dr. Reid, did you think I was going to put it on for you?”

“What? No!” His voice raising in pitch, maybe he was waiting for that. “It’s just- too hot to think straight. It’s Spencer. Ahem.”

“Huh?”

“Um, it’s Spencer. You should call me Spencer. Not Dr. Reid.”

“Okay, Spencer.”

Then, something strange happens. For the first time since you’ve met, Spencer notices a dip in your steadfast manner. A small glimpse into a shy response that gives him a sense of hope that he can’t quite identify.

He can make you nervous?

𓆱

Out of harm's way from the steady calefaction in which the temperature has been loyal to all day, Spencer and his team are sitting inside a muggy office eating sandwiches. Your team is paralleled and eating across the room, a less personable and warm way about them.

Placing his sandwich down, Spencer rattles off more of his thoughts on the case that have been plaguing him, “The unsub’s apparent desire to control and avoid leaving traces of himself could indicate a need for perfection, but also a desire for power over life and death. This could be a psychopathic personality with deep narcissistic tendencies.”

Spencer’s not the only one sensitive to the incapacitating heat, he gets nods and hums of acknowledgement in return.

Elle breaks the silence, “Look at that. Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re not all sitting together? Aren’t we supposed to be working as a team?”

With a nod of agreement JJ confirms some of her suspicions, “I’ve never seen a unit work together like this. They don’t work well with each other, or some do and some don’t. I can’t imagine having to work in that environment.”

He casts his eyes across the room, seeing the group of men give each other the cold shoulder. Eyebrows furrowing, he realizes you’re not with them. Like his thoughts manifested you, there’s a soft yet unmistakable clatter of your boots as you approach their table, lunch in hand.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

As if you had asked Spencer directly, and not the entirety of the table, every member turns and looks over to Spencer.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

“Thanks. They’re tough to be around sometimes.”

Sitting down next to Spencer you begin to eat. A slight brush of your knee against his has him slowing his eating to not choke and die in front of everybody he knows.

Elle smiles, “I can imagine. I noticed the all-male team. How’s that?”

Groaning around your sandwich you roll your eyes, “Miserable. You are so lucky I swear-”

Breaking any illusion of teamwork and solidarity, your unit chief appears with a deep frown. He clears his throat to interrupt you, “When this is over we need to have a discussion about your attire.”

“W-what?”

Eyebrows around the table shoot up in disbelief at the public scolding. Spencer recalls earlier, your unit chief describing you as weird. He definitely has a one-sided reservation towards you, oozing misogyny.

“We’re working on a murder case. There needs to be professional boundaries to follow. Shorts and a tanktop do not qualify.”

“Sir, it’s 110 degrees out, if I wore pants I could pass out when I’m on the field.” Spencer watches you fall into yourself, demeanor and confidence dwindling.

“Well. I’m not making a scene in front of these lovely folks here. Just keep that in mind, please.”

With a spin of his heels he retreats back into a smaller office, discusses with police officers working the case as they shake their heads, probably in reprimand.

“S-sorry. Wow. I don’t know what that was. I apologize.” Your eyes fall to your hands on your lap, embarrassment creasing into your previously bright eyes.

“That’s absolutely ridiculous. Do not apologize to us, please.” Elle supplies with a wave of her hand trying to dissipate the tension.

Spencer knocks his knee into yours again, “He seems like he doesn’t understand how important you are to the team.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that-”

“I would. They’d be utterly lost without your help. Seriously.” Spencer finalizes.

Without a second thought, he gets an idea. A stupid, smitten, and gooey with intent idea that pulls the strings to make his fingers move without his brain consenting fully. With idle fingers he begins loosening his tie, fingers smoothly pulling it down and over his head as he removes it fully.

A small smile tugs his lips as he places his tie around your neck. A silence falls at the table that flies over Spencer’s head– his focus stuck on cheering you up. Quickly, he fastens it around your neck again, trying to avoid brushing his fingers against your throat, but failing a couple times. The electricity from the miniscule contact intimidating him.

“There. Professional enough now.”

Slight goosebumps raise on your neck, as you laugh with a shocked expression. Way too much attention towards you in the past five minutes to know what to do with.

Spencer’s tie is now properly fixed around your exposed neck, your tanktop and shorts are completed into pseudo-professional garb, alerting the ridiculousness of the situation. More important, alerting the team of Spencer’s infatuation towards a certain blood splatter analysis.

Running a soft hand down the expanse of his tie you speak through your grin, “Yeah, I definitely feel more status-quo. Thank you.” Finishing with a giggle, you look away from Spencer and towards the widened eyes around you.

Not able to contain himself, Derek finishes sipping his drink and blurts, “Man, you really aren’t hiding anything.”

“Well, I... it’s just...” Spencer starts, before cutting himself off with a deep breath. “I mean, it’s not…look, it's just a tie, okay?”

He can barely even move let alone glance at your face, though he can feel your eyes looking at him.

“Sure, loverboy.” Derek adds, leaning back in his chair with a raised eyebrow. “It’s just a tie. Keep telling yourself that. Never seen you so affectionate.”

Embarrassment gripping his throat and strangling him, Spencer knows he’s overreacting but he can’t help the feeling of betrayal, even if it was teasing. So he can avoid spilling a defense or risk another trembling response, Spencer gets up silently to go to the bathroom. Through the ringing in his ears he hears Elle’s simple scolding, “Derek.”

Turning on the faucet he splashes freezing water over his skin, hoping that this can possibly wash away his feelings over the past few days. His obsession, his yearning, all the fascination and disgust. Spencer wants the chrysalis he’s developed during this case to peel off and roll down with the droplets of water to spiral into the sewage drains. Leaving who he was before meeting you, before coming to Texas.

Face framing pieces of his hair are becoming increasingly more wet as he continues his washing, face pink from the bitterly cold water repeatedly splashed.

Spencer gets only a few moments with his face in the sink before the bathroom door swings open. He sees the tie first, a mocking symbol now instead of a cute peace offering as he expected. Then,

“Spencer?” Your soft voice echoes off the walls in the empty bathroom creating a sensual reverberation, it’s painstaking for him.

“Wh- what? You can’t be in here. This is the men’s-”

“Are you being serious?”

You make eye contact through the mirror.

“I’m. I don’t know what I’m being.” Spencer acquiesced once catching your eyeline.

“You’re being silly.” You maneuver yourself so your backside is pushed against the sink where Spencer is leaning over.

With how the vulnerability of showing his feelings has led him to punishment in the past, Spencer can’t help but feel a looming cloud over him at his twice removed confession of enamorment. He feels like he’s crossed a professional boundary, like he’s made you uncomfortable. Spencer could’ve gone the rest of his life hiding these feelings that have lit a fire in his stomach, and now they’re out in the open.

“I’m sorry. I am- I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He settles on as a response.

“Oh. You’ve misread the situation. You haven’t made me uncomfortable in the slightest. If anything, maybe I’ve-”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable. I mean, you do. But in a way that feels good.”

You laugh briefly and cover your mouth with your hand, you don’t think laughing in his face would serve him any good right now.

“So, that’s settled. Truce?”

Spencer’s grin comes back, shakes his head while muttering, “Truce.”

You stretch out a hand- “Oh come on, we have to shake on it.”

Without noticing how this moment would be Spencer’s point of no return, he brings up his hand and wraps it in yours. The spark that he’s gotten small flickers of while brushing against you or staring in your eyes when you explain something widens enough to engulf him fully.

The handshake lingers longer than any “truce” handshake in all of history, Spencer thinks. The air shifts in a way he’s not ready for, and suddenly, the playful tension you’ve been riding on seems to have deepened.

You flash him the same smile you’ve always given him, full of expression he’s never been exposed to before. An adoration he’s been too scared to dwell on but now something’s changed. You both know it. Neither of you address it, but its presence is unavoidable now, hanging between you now like a concaving sinkhole.

Both of your eyes glimmer with the raw intimacy of sharing an unspoken secret.

𓆱

The following day a pressure washer was used on the inside of the car trunk after the blood covering everything was properly analyzed, a process in which he watched you perform with wide eyes across the brutally air conditioned lab.

The rubbery smack of medical gloves being removed from your skin breaks the silence of the room, “It’s incredible that all the different splatters match the victims, and he never managed to leave one drop of blood from himself. Crazy odds.”

“Could be a clean freak, or just meticulous. The odds of him not leaving any fingerprints in a controlled space where they’ve been actively moving around and committing murders is extremely low.”

“The chances go up too when working with this much blood, a fingerprint would be bound to show up with all of it spread around, especially if he’s maneuvering them into a specific area.”

Before the five missing bodies could even be found, you were able to discern a match of blood between them and all five people vanished. Though this may point to their return being shot to shit, before locating the bodies, all bets are still on.

With an abrupt swing of the lab door, Hotchner is walking in with printed photographs of the contents in the trunk.

Deep engravings of various symbols and a repeated latin phrase hidden under the soft carpeted trunk:

Daemonium Imperium, Fides aeterna

Seemingly carved with a knife or some other metal tool, the trunk devoid of blood incites the same amount of fear as it did bloodied.

You gaze over the photographs intently, speaking first, “Is that latin? Do you know what it means?”

Spencer nods, “The Devil's Dominion, Eternal Faith.”

Your eyebrows raise, impressed and scared at the underlying message alike. “So we’re dealing with a religious cult now?”

Hotchner nods curtly, “We need to expand the profile. Two unsubs is not nearly enough, which is why there’s so many drop off sites and why they all have a meaning to the collective group.”

“What, like a twisted hazing ritual?”

Spencer looks up from the photographs, his brow furrowed as he considers your question, “A-almost, yeah. It seems more like a form of symbolic initiation or perhaps a purification ritual. The ‘Daemonium Imperium’ could represent a kingdom or reign of darkness, while ‘Fides aeterna’ could signify an unwavering faith in something beyond this world. I think I recognize this symbol- it’s common in occult practices, specifically in some of the more obscure, pre-Christian traditions. There’s a connection to ancient rituals, especially those that involve sacrifice or the offering of blood.”

Your eyes shift to Hotcher as he begins again, “You recognize this?”

“Yeah… I think I read about a Texan theology professor a while back causing a disturbance in one of his classes when introducing occult themes to his study. That was in… Jefferson.”

“Well, if he’s in Jefferson we’re going to have to leave as soon as possible, it’s almost a four hour drive.”

Hotchner collects the photos together again, “You need to notify the rest of the teams, we can take a few cars and head out in 15.”

Luck seemingly against him, (understandably) the cars were separated by the two teams working the case, meaning that the duration of the car ride to Jefferson Spencer was stuck looking at the back of your car instead of you in it.

Squished in the backseat Spencer grimaces as the radio shouts it's eerie weather report that silences the car as they listen in quiet bewilderment.

Watch out Texas, today will be the hottest temperature in recorded history, with highs up to 120 degrees fahrenheit. Stay inside today folks, heat exposure at these temperatures can lead to heat exhaustion and heat stroke.

“They can’t be serious. What are we going to do?” Elle mutters behind the steering wheel.

“We’ll do what we can when we get there, discuss with local police. Obviously we want everybody in good shape for us to properly help potential victims.” Hotchner replies with a deep sigh, outwardly frustrated with the nonstop trials and tribulations of this case.

They arrived around 3:00 pm to the Jefferson police department. Though it’s a small town, the building usually holds more than two people, who are only here because of the urgency for this unsub. The chief of police and the lieutenant debrief everyone on locals that might’ve been in contact with the professor and of other strange occurrences that might have been happening around town; two missing people of their own.

After being filled in on important parameters by both teams the chief of police gives a sullen face to Hotchner as he explains the difficulty of performing anything in this heatwave.

“We’re trying to keep people inside with these temperatures and with a curfew after those girls went missing, there’s going to be nobody outside, that includes your killer.”

Your unit chief replies, “What do you suggest?”

“Well. I suggest that you stay at my buddies motel until tomorrow morning. You mentioned they’re killing on a schedule- you still have time from what you’re telling me.”

As if crows were cawing in an attempt to scream “turn back” at kids walking into the wrong neck of the woods, a sharp bright whip of heat lightning from a far away storm emphasizes your need to hunker down.

“Alright. We can set up shop at the motel till morning,” Hotchner relents, “Does he know we want to stay there?”

“Called him about it when you were driving up. Said he had six open rooms with how little people are travelling today.”

Spencer's demeanor changes at this- “But there’s ten of us here.” He offers like it wasn’t apparent.

Shooting him a glance, Hotchner’s face has a bit of amusement in his expression now. “Looks like we’re doubling up.”

An instinctive reflex pulls Spencer’s eyes to meet yours, which were already glued where he was standing. Tilting your head to the side, a simple acquisition that tightens Spencer’s throat and sends electricity through his bloodstream.

All his life, the concept of looking at someone and knowing what they were thinking without saying any words seemed like an overrated notion to Spencer. Words were his everything, they drive his life, they’re the foundation of his passions.

While he’s reading paragraphs in your eyes from across the room, Spencer understands now how the intimate words he’s been missing out on were those unspoken, only comprehended through a coalition of hearts.

Which is his exact reasoning for closing your car door behind him later.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds

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byjove · 2 years ago

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I recently found out the reason a disproportionate amount of people in the turn of the 19th/20th centuries died in gruesome rail accidents was not because people were really stupid about railroad safety. Apparently drugging/poisoning someone (usually travelers), robbing them and placing their body on the train tracks to be dismembered was a notorious scheme. Forensic science was in its infancy making toxicological analysis difficult. Authorities would just assume the deceased wandered onto the tracks while drunk and fell asleep there before getting hit by the train.

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i-need-of-a-hobby · 9 months ago

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modern/alive boy detectives au headcanons:

-for the purposes of my headcanoning the boys met in high school, didnt die this time, and post graduation are sharing a flat

-its still slowburn ofc claiming theyre "100% platonic" despite sharing a flat for two years and sharing a bed most nights for cuddling purposes

-how did the "platonic" cuddling start you ask?

-charles has chronic nightmares and edwin has a caffeine problem so they both end up awake at the most unholy hours of the night and charles decided the best use of these times is catching edwin up on pop culture

-because even in a modern setting, he had a supper sheltered childhood

-the first middle of the night movie they watch is legally blonde, which edwin got more invested in than he'll ever willingly admit

-they're watching in charles' bed naturally bc he's got a tv in his room, and charles falls asleep halfway through the movie every. single. time. because he feels safer when he's (super platonically) curled into edwins chest

-these fucking idiots

-charles also has this really beat up SUV he loves more than anything

-its literally the ugliest car youve ever seen but he got it used right after moving out for next to nothing, fixed it up himself, and now calls it daisy

-edwin hates the whole personifying cars thing but charles will only acknowledge the car if it's referred to as daisy ("stop calling daisy it, it hurts her feelings!" "charles it's a CAR" "SHE'S a car")

-edwin is also a passenger princess

-charles didnt really know what he wanted post high school other than to get out of his parents house asap so he takes a gap year and moves in with edwin

-it takes him a bit over a year (and just so much therapy) but he eventually decides to go to school part time majoring in psychology

-in his year off he worked a bunch of odd jobs but his favorite was at a comic book store in the local mall because he got free pins for his jacket AND could use their database to track down out of print batman comics for edwin

-edwin does go to college directly after graduation high school, majoring in forensic science

-he refuses to let anyone know but he also volunteers at a local animal shelter

-but he keeps it so on the downlow charles only found out when he brought an elderly cat home but even then he didnt outright say anything

-charles: edwin... what is that

-edwin: that is georgie

-charles: ok, cool cool cool, why is he here

-edwin: he only has three legs, he needs us

#dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #save dead boy detectives #revive dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #edwin paine #payneland #painland

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dioslesbianwife · 7 months ago

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Here are some jojo villain house headcannons for the TV shows/channels I think jojo villains would enjoy.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Dio

Luxury Living Network: Likes to revel in shows about wealth, power, and decadence. Think Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

National Geographic: Enjoys watching predators hunt their prey. He’d identify with the top of the food chain.

The History Channel (Old School): Enjoys historical conquest stories, especially those about rulers like Julius Caesar or Genghis Khan.

Trashy reality shows on TLC would also be a guilty pleasure. He lives for the dramatic betrayals.

Kars

Animal Planet: Loves learning about the animal kingdom and biology, particularly predator-prey dynamics. He’d judge how far evolution has come since his era.

Discovery Channel: Loves documentaries about science, geology, and life on earth, though he’d scoff at any inaccuracies.

Sci-Fi channel: He’s secretly amused by humans' imagination of evolution and alien life.

Esidisi

Telenovelas/Soap opera Channels: Enjoys dramatic and over-the-top emotions—his own temper tantrums mirror them perfectly.

Wrestling Channels (WWE for example): Finds the combat entertaining and relates to the theatrical aggression.

Wamuu

Sports Channels (ESPN, Olympic Channel): Drawn to competition and strength. He’s especially invested in combat sports like MMA or wrestling.

Military History Channel: Respects the strategies and honor involved in ancient warfare.

Kira

HGTV: Finds peace in watching mundane home improvement or interior design shows, which align with his “quiet” lifestyle.

True Crime channels: Obsessed with watching shows like Forensic Files, hoping to pick up tips on how to avoid getting caught.

Fashion Network: Enjoys looking at high-end clothing.

Diavolo

Old school MTV: Likes the chaotic energy as it aligns with his paranoia.

Crime Networks: Loves anything that teaches him how to cover his tracks and outsmart enemies.

Vogue Network: Secretly enjoys high fashion shows for their eccentric designs (much like his clothing…choices).

Doppio

Cartoons: Despite being an adult, Doppio has a childlike innocence and would gravitate toward shows like The amazing Spiderman, enjoying the light-heartedness,. I think he’d mostly prefer old school shows like Batman the animated series or the old X-men show. Maybe Arthur, Powerpuff girls, Avengers, Clifford, etc.

Cooking Shows (Food Network): Doppio seems like he craves comfort, so watching cooking shows like those holiday baking ones or Master Chef could offer him a sense of warmth and happiness. I think he’d try to show the boss what he learned from them and try to cook simple things.

Pucci

Religious Channels: Watches sermons to draw inspiration. Though I do think he’d strongly dislike the kinds of televangelists that scam vulnerable people.

Discovery/Space Channels: Interested in space and time shows, considering his obsession with Heaven and universal perfection.

Classical Music Channel: Finds focus in orchestral music and opera broadcasts. Probably plays it in the background as he reads or annotates his Bible.

Funny Valentine

News Networks (C-SPAN, BBC): Watches political coverage and speeches to stay informed and critique the current state of governance and the world.

History Channel: Studies historical conflicts and leadership tactics.

Classic Movie Channels: Watches patriotic films or period dramas for inspiration and comfort.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

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Fu-Schnickens

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

I can't remember where I first heard dancehall reggae, but I do remember where I bought most of my dancehall cassettes: at Play De Record, a great hip hop/reggae DJ store on Yonge Street in Toronto whose bins were all killer, no filler. I'd go into the store every couple weeks and more or less pick three albums at random and love every one of 'em. I just discovered that PDR is still in business, which makes me extremely happy:

https://www.playderecord.com/

Look, I know that mostly I use this blog to talk about tech politics, monopoly, impending fascism and the climate emergency, with the odd science fiction review. But all that other stuff (modulo the sf novels) are weighing on my heavily this week, and I feel like posting something a little more lighthearted. So I consulted my editor (me), who called a special meeting of the editorial board (also me), who kicked it up to the publisher (still me), and they all agreed that I could write a post about a weird hip-hop album that's been earworming me in the best way imaginable since 1992.

I'm pretty sure I bought Fu-Schnickens' debut album "F.U. Don't Take It Personal" at Play De Record. Certainly, I have a memory of stopping on the sidewalk outside of the store to wrestle the cellophane off the cassette and pop it into my walkman. I definitely remember my first walk through the city with the music in my ears. I laughed aloud. Several times. I might have even danced a little:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B2wD7FbIzGI&list=PLJw–ySHyZNwsmLcxfW3NWTyxQX7mARas

At the time, I knew nothing about Fu-Shnickens. In the years since, I have listened to F.U. Don't Take It Personal approximately one heptillion times and somehow managed not to learn anything about Fu-Schnickens. Today, I read their all-too-short Wikipedia article and learned that the group was together between 1988 and 1995, that their second album (which I remember not being as impressed with) had a top-40 novelty track with vocals by Shaquille O'Neal, who said the Schnickens were his favorite hiphop group:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fu-Schnickens

I get it, Shaq. They're great. First of all, they're incredibly silly. Long before Wu-Tang Clan, they were doing this weird kung-fu movie schtick in their songs (which, admittedly, walks an uncomfortable line between "parodies of racist depictions of Chinese people in the movies" to "racist parodies of Chinese people in the style of those movies"). Their songs are jammed with pop culture references in a way that puts, say, Paul's Boutique to shame. You can get a sense of this by looking at the lyrics transcribed over at Genius (where they are criminally under-annotated):

https://genius.com/artists/Fu-schnickens

Take "La Schmoove," a song that references "The Jeffersons," "Leave It To Beaver," "Superfly," Honey-Nut Cheerios, Popeye, Elmer's Glue, Elmer Fudd, Pippi Longstockings, "Married With Children," "Three's Company," "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," "Do-Wah-Diddy," the board game Battleship, and Pepe Le Pew. It features rhymes like "we in there like swimwear," "Adios muchachos dorme vous unbuckle my Fu-Schnick shoe," and "Yo zilch kaput me nada none son." It's legit bonkers.

But also: they're really good. The frontman, Chip Fu (Roderick Roachford) raps really fast, has amazing flow, and periodically just starts rapping backwards, like literally saying the same syllables he just said, but backwards, with that same amazing flow. They are steeped in old dancehall, and it shines through (they more-or-less single-handedly revived Tenor Saw's now-familiar "Ring the Alarm").

Many of their songs feature a kind of hiphopified Phil Spector wall of sound, a kind of melodic drone that underlays the beats and lyrics. As soon as I hear that drone, I start smiling, because I know what's coming.

I have been earwormed by these tracks for this entire century and much of the past century. It's always really hard to explain why you like something, but I think that Fu-Schnickens' pop culture stream of consciousness and nonsense syllables are a kind of rhythmic version of my own internal monologue, which is a kind of endless babble of fragments of books, music, movies and TV; dumb jokes; words repeated until they lose all meaning and become meaningless phonemes, all kind of splinters of ideas and words floating around, bumping into each other.

There's lots of dancehall and dancehall-adjacent stuff that's arguably better than this album, like "The Good The Bad The Ugly & The Crazy," the amazing and underappreciated collaboration between Necka Demus, Junior Demus and Super Cat:

https://www.discogs.com/master/158493-Super-Cat-2-Junior-Cat-Junior-Demus-Nicodemus-The-GoodBadUgly-The-Crazy

And I could listen to Shaggy's cover of "Oh Carolina" all day:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtLqmWt2h2g

Or Apache Indian's "Boom Shack-A-Lak":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZzBd41NuZw

Or even better, "Ragamuffin Girl":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGhrpajNtKk

But none of music is on continuous shuffle-play in the back of my brain the way "F.U. Don't Take It Personal" is and has been since the Clinton administration:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B2wD7FbIzGI&list=PLJw–ySHyZNwsmLcxfW3NWTyxQX7mARas

What's more, this is one of the very few (non-Talking Heads, non-David Byrne) albums that my daughter and I like listening to together in the car. It's so perfectly silly, virtuosic, funny, and danceable. Still as good as it was when I was young and had the hips I was born with. I've owned it on cassette and CD and as MP3s. I somehow own the vinyl (though I have no turntable).

I'm grateful to the management of this publication for the opportunity to share it with you.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/17/holy-batfu-its-an-apple/#ba-schnicker-bah-snchnucker

#pluralistic #fu-schnickens #hip hop #reggae #the eighties #earworms #music #the nineties #dancehall #play de record #supercat #das efx

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moonyskarma · 4 days ago

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𝒯𝙝𝔢 𝒮𝙝𝔞𝚍𝙤𝚠 𝒮𝙥𝔦𝚍𝙚𝔯

◀ FILE ACCESSED: LEVEL 9 REQUIRED ► METAHUMAN DOSSIER: SPIDERMAN A.R.G.U.S. REGISTRY CODE: X-319J-CH-VOID

ALIASES: Spiderman / Shadow Spider / The Spider CIVILIAN IDENTITY: West, Charles "Charlie" Calloway AGE: 23 KNOWN AFFILIATIONS: Flash (Charles Leclerc), Team Flash, CCPD LOCATION TRACKED: Central City CURRENT STATUS: Active

PHYSICAL PROFILE: • Height: 5'8' • Build: Athletic, high muscle density (noted for enhanced strength) • Eyes: Dark brown • Identifying Marks: Minor scar, left oral commissure (non-inhibitory); mask conceals facial identity effectively. • Movement Style: Agile, non-linear; often utilizes vertical terrain. Confirmed enhanced reflexes. • Suit: Matte black adaptive suit with web-distribution technology and reinforced under layer. Not A.R.G.U.S.-issued.

PRIMARY ABILITIES: • Enhanced Physiology: Superhuman strength (class 10), stamina, reflexes, and healing factor. • Wall-Crawling: Adhesive grip via neuro-responsive extremities. • Spider-Sense: Extrasensory awareness of immediate threats. • Web Deployment: Internally engineered, wrist-mounted cartridges. Customizable web types (standard tensile, impact dispersal, ensnarement) • Combat Training: Improvised street combat, acrobatic evasion, and pressure-point targeting.

SKILLSET & SPECIALIZATIONS: • Forensic profiling, behavioral analysis (certified) • Tactical intelligence and urban reconnaissance • High proficiency in field improvisation and stealth pursuit • Access to CCPD crime scene data and surveillance through internal credentials (flagged by ARGUS audit; under review)

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE & BACKSTORY: Psychological Profile: • Subject exhibits patterns of trauma-rooted hyper-independence. Displays marked reluctance to delegate or rely on others—early case files indicate complete operational solitude for first phase of activity. • Notably anti-lethal but not pacifistic; engages targets with calculated brutality when deemed necessary. Repeated field reports highlight consistent use of force intended to incapacitate rather than eliminate. • Maintains high tactical intelligence and demonstrates combat-specific hyperfocus, especially in urban terrain. Emotional triggers noted: child endangerment, abuse of power, institutional failure. Exhibits signs of complex trauma and internalized guilt response—subject is a classic moral absolutist operating in moral grey. • Behavioral alignment: Anti-heroic, trending toward cooperative vigilante. • Integration into Team Flash has promoted marked behavioral shifts—less isolation, increasing reliance on allies (notably Flash and Cisco Ramon). Subject remains emotionally reserved but is capable of deep loyalty once trust is established.

Background Summary: • Subject was adopted as a young child into the West family under sealed circumstances; birth records list "Calloway" as original surname. Details regarding biological parents remain classified or unknown, though metahuman lineage is suspected. • Early adolescence marked by above-average intelligence, academic aptitude in forensic science and behavioral criminology, and notable disciplinary issues related to authority resistance. Currently employed by CCPD as a criminologist. • Initial vigilante activity predates official metahuman registrated by ~10 months. Operated nocturnally under masked alias "The Spider", avoiding detection while targeting individuals who eluded legal consequence. Patterns consistent with personal vendetta overlaying systemic justice response. • Following first contact with The Flash, subject's strategy evolved—shifted from solo vigilantism to tactical cooperation in metahuman apprehension efforts. • Subject remains unregistered in the official Central City vigilante database, though Team Flash records identify him as a consistent field agent in meta-level incidents.

THREAT ASSESSMENT: • Threat Level: Yellow (Conditional Watchlist) • Subject poses no direct threat to civilians or sanctioned meta operations under typical parameters. Actions are guided by a strong internal moral code, though not always in alignment with ARGUS or CCPD protocol. • Tactical efficiency, unpredictability, and emotional volatility under specific triggers (e.g., child endangerment, abuse of power, sexual abuse) warrant continued surveillance • Field Classification: Containment Risk Tier II — Standard intervention protocols apply; use of lethal force not authorized unless subject breaches metahuman containment policy. • Despite cooperative stance, subject has not submitted to full ARGUS evaluation.

SECURITY CLEARANCE NOTES: Access to full dossier contents restricted to Level 9 operatives and above. Any unauthorized attempts to duplicate, transmit, or disseminate subject data will trigger immediate lockdown protocol [Ref. ARGUS Regulation 16.3c]. Subject's full metahuman potential remains under evaluation; redacted portions accessible only by Director Waller or ARGUS Field Oversight Division.

[SECTION REDACTED – 03.16.XX / AUTHORIZATION: W. WALLER] Biological origin and medical anomalies flagged for meta-genetic analysis. Subject denies knowledge of pre-adoption trauma. Further investigation pending.

. . . back to the circus 🎪

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angellnicolee · 29 days ago

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delta omega phi house

SAM WILSON — Social Chair. Junior. Social Work Major. 3.7 GPA. Member of Peer Support Network. Member of the Men’s Track and Field team. Leader of the Outdoor Adventures Club. Member of Wade’s unofficial Prank Society.

MATT MURDOCK — Ethics Chair. Junior. Pre-Law. 4.0 GPA. Leads a Campus Study Group. President of the Pre-Law Society. Member of the Debate Team. Runs the Catholic Student Organisation. Member of the Disability Advocacy Group.

FRANK CASTLE — House Enforcer. Senior. Forensic Psychology Major. 3.2 GPA. Coaches Mixed Martial Arts Club. Captain of the Rugby team. Member of the Gamma Sigma honours society.

WADE WILSON — Rush Chair. Sophomore. Theatre major. 2.9 GPA. Member of the Stand-Up Comedy Club. Founder of the unofficial Prank Society. Member of the Mental Health Advocacy Group. Member of the MMA Club.

CLINT BARTON — Brotherhood. Junior. Mechanical Engineering Major. 3.0 GPA. Captain of the Archery Club. Stage Crew in the Theatre Department. Member of the Big Brothers Program. Member of the Fitness Club.

PIETRO MAXIMOFF — Secretary. Sophomore. Computer Science Major. 3.2 GPA. Captain of the Men’s Track and Field team. Member of the Speed-running Gaming Club. Member of the International Student Union.

#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #frank castle #frank castle x reader #wade wilson #wade wilson x reader #clint barton #clint barton x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #anthony mackie #charlie cox #jon bernthal #ryan reynolds #jeremy renner #aaron taylor johnson #marvel

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lefaystrent · 10 months ago

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Florida Man Cannot Be Contained

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic dlampr

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Remus is not the menace of the friend group.

It's Patton.

-------------------------------------------------------

The six of them were hanging out for the first time.

More accurately, Logan had recently been absorbed into Virgil's friend group.

They've had classes together over a few semesters. Logan's majoring in Chemical Engineering, and Virgil's majoring in Forensic Science, so there's some overlap and a lot of shared interests. While he appreciated Virgil's clever-streak and conversational merit, Logan never would have offered to spend time together outside of the classroom. He convinced himself he didn't need extracurriculars, like friendship.

"Come meet my friends, nerd," Virgil ordered after class one day.

And that was that.

On their way to a pizza joint outside of campus, Logan observed the others. They were loud, obnoxious, flamboyant, and below his intelligence. His mother would never approve.

Logan vindictively liked them.

"Oh my gosh, I love your new bag, Janus!"

"Thank you, it's Prada."

"I didn't know they sold Prada at Goodwill."

"....they do now."

Virgil maneuvered himself to be his social buffer. He kept close by Logan's elbow, and muttered meanings to inside jokes and slang to him when Logan so much as raised a brow. At some point, he stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?" Logan asked, halting beside him. The rest of the group drifted slowly past them, the gait of their walk unhurried. Everyone was too busy enjoying gossiping.

Except Patton. He had this wild look in his eyes and he began to shuffle off the sidewalk. His lips pressed together tight as if he were holding back a grin.

"Patton, man, don't," Virgil told him, but Patton wasn't looking at him. He stole glances at Roman, making sure that the other was too caught up in conversation with his brother to pay attention to him. He took a few steps to the right into the grass near a house. Then he took off.

Roman, catching on too late, noticed the man run with a strange mixture of dawning horror and exasperated suffering. "Pat– Patton. Pat, please– don't you DARE, GET BACK HERE!" He tossed his bag to Remus halfway through and took off in a dead sprint.

"What is happening?" Logan asked.

"Patton's a lunatic," Virgil sighed. Janus sighed as well and Remus spurred Patton on with whoops.

Patton hightailed it into the backyard of the random house and unceremoniously belly flopped into the pool. Roman jumped in right behind, barely pausing to shuck off his shoes in time, the sneakers flying through the air.

"Does he often trespass?" Logan questioned. "I'm not bothered, just curious."

"Only when there are pools involved. He does it so Roman will save him."

"Why would he need saving?"

"The idiot can't swim."

Out in the pool, Logan can make out some of Roman's nonplussed yelling after he resurfaced with an armful of Patton. Patton, for his part, seemed endlessly pleased with himself.

"My hero!" Patton gushed and began fawning over Roman, much to his chagrin.

Then the homeowner came out and Janus concocted an outlandish story consisting of how Patton fell into the pool totally by accident.

"This is the third time this week," the homeowner accused.

"And to that I say..." Janus paused. He took off his hat, held it to his chest, opened his mouth to elaborate–

And ran the fuck away.

"There he goes," Remus whistles. "How I hate to see it, how I love to watch it."

Roman sat at the pool's edge, arms resting on his knees and absolutely soaked. "You're grounded," he told Patton sitting beside him.

Patton beamed with pride. Virgil tried to hide behind his hands.

"Please just leave," the homeowner requested.

They quickly made themselves scarce.

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greenbubblefactory · 5 months ago

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Matchup for @marzshin

Congratulations you have a match with..

Riddle Rosehearts !

★Riddle is a natural leader who thrives on order and discipline, and his ambition to uphold rules and structure aligns with your own strong desire to make a difference in the world and achieve your goals. Your mutual drive to succeed could create a deep understanding between you two. As someone who is driven and career-oriented like you, Riddle would respect your independence and ambition. He admires intelligence and would likely be impressed by your focus on forensic science and chemistry, as well as your general curiosity for the world. Riddle might not fully share your passion for mycology or zoology, but he would appreciate the dedication and thoughtfulness you put into your interests, and he’d enjoy engaging in conversations about your hobbies, learning more about them along the way.

★Riddle’s love for structure and attention to detail would complement your own perfectionistic tendencies. He would understand the frustration you feel when things don’t go exactly as planned and could offer you advice on how to channel that energy productively. His problem-solving mindset would also be useful when you’re feeling distracted or unmotivated, as he’d encourage you to push through those moments and get back on track. If you ever feel overwhelmed by the pressures of your studies or life in general, he’d likely be the one to gently remind you that it's okay to take breaks and focus on balance, ensuring you don’t burn out. His calm and methodical approach to life would help you find the structure you need to navigate your day-to-day challenges.

★Given that you value independence, Riddle would appreciate that you can handle things on your own. He isn’t the type to constantly hover, but you’d notice that he’s always keeping an eye on you, offering support when necessary, especially during tough moments or when you're feeling uncertain about your path. He may not express his care in the most obvious ways, but his thoughtful actions and dedication to your well-being would never go unnoticed. Riddle’s quiet acts of service, like bringing you your favorite snacks or helping you with something you’re working on, would be a subtle yet strong way he shows his affection. He might also leave you small notes or messages of encouragement, affirming your worth and reminding you that you’re capable of achieving anything you set your mind to.

★Your shared intellectual pursuits and love for discussing complex subjects would also make for hours of interesting conversation. Whether you’re delving into topics related to your major, science, or even abstract concepts like astral bodies, Riddle would love engaging with you on a deeper level. He’s the type to be fascinated by new knowledge, so he’d likely ask questions to dig even deeper into the subjects that intrigue you, giving you the chance to explain and expand on your passions. These intellectual exchanges would strengthen your bond, as you both value knowledge and would constantly inspire each other to grow in your respective fields. Riddle might even take a quiet interest in topics like forensics, wanting to learn more about them to keep up with your academic journey.

★Riddle's love languages of acts of service and words of affirmation align closely with yours, which would foster a strong connection. He’d likely show his affection through thoughtful gestures, such as helping you with tasks or taking care of something for you without you having to ask. His dedication to service would not only show his love but also his respect for you and your goals. When you're feeling unsure or having a hard time, his words of affirmation would come through in the form of carefully considered compliments and encouragements. He might not speak often, but when he does, you’d feel his words are meaningful and heartfelt, making you feel reassured and supported. For example, he may remind you how far you’ve come in your studies or how proud he is of your accomplishments, letting you know that your hard work has not gone unnoticed.

★In terms of conflict, Riddle can sometimes be a bit rigid in his approach, given his strict adherence to rules and order. However, he would make the effort to understand you and find a way to make peace. If you ever got into a disagreement or felt like things were out of balance, Riddle would approach the situation with a calm demeanor, trying to make sure you both see eye to eye. While he can be strict with others, he’s also someone who values growth and learning. So, during conflicts, he would likely take the time to reflect on his own actions and ensure that his words or behavior didn’t make things worse. He would likely expect you to do the same, and through this, you’d both learn how to communicate better and maintain a healthy, balanced relationship.

★Riddle's nurturing side would come through when you’re struggling with trust issues or need reassurance. He might not be the most outwardly affectionate or emotional, but when it matters most, he would show up for you, proving that his care for you is unwavering. As someone who values words of affirmation, you’d find comfort in his quiet yet sincere words of encouragement. His presence would be a steady one, always available for you when you need him. Whether it's offering advice, providing a safe space to vent, or helping you work through a tough moment, Riddle would be there for you in a way that makes you feel seen and heard.

★Riddle’s quiet strength, intellectual prowess, and nurturing yet firm nature would create a steady, reliable relationship that allows for both emotional growth and mutual respect. His support would give you the confidence to pursue your ambitions while making sure you don’t lose sight of your own well-being. Together, you would form a team grounded in shared values of ambition, intelligence, and respect for each other’s unique qualities.

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes!

#matchup #twisted wonderland matchup #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #Riddle Rosehearts matchup #Riddle Rosehearts x reader

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austedu · 10 months ago

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AUST’s MS in Biotechnology: Forensic Science Track

The American University of Science & Technology (AUST) offers a cutting-edge Master of Science (MS) in Biotechnology with a specialized track in Forensic Science. This 36-credit hour graduate program is designed for students who are eager to dive deep into the world of forensic science, blending advanced biotechnology with practical forensic applications.

Program Overview

The MS in Biotechnology at AUST is a comprehensive program that merges the fields of biotechnology and forensic science, providing students with the tools and knowledge required to excel in forensic laboratories, research institutions, and related sectors. This program is particularly appealing to those who have a passion for solving crimes through scientific investigation.

Curriculum and Structure

The 36-credit hour curriculum is meticulously crafted to cover all essential aspects of forensic science within the biotechnology framework. Courses in this program include:

Forensic DNA Analysis: Understanding the role of DNA in forensic investigations, including techniques for analyzing genetic material found at crime scenes.

Biotechnology Applications in Forensics: Applying biotechnological tools and methods to forensic science, focusing on the practical implementation in crime labs.

Crime Scene Investigation Techniques: A hands-on approach to crime scene processing, evidence collection, and the use of biotechnology in analyzing crime scene data.

Advanced Forensic Chemistry: Delving into the chemical aspects of forensic science, including toxicology, drug analysis, and trace evidence examination.

Career Opportunities

Graduates of this program are well-prepared for a variety of career paths in the forensic science field. Possible roles include forensic DNA analyst, crime lab technician, forensic biotechnologist, and research scientist. The program also sets a strong foundation for those wishing to pursue further academic research or a Ph.D. in related fields.

Why Choose AUST?

AUST is renowned for its commitment to academic excellence and innovation. The MS in Biotechnology with a Forensic Science track stands out for its interdisciplinary approach, combining the latest in biotechnology with practical forensic science training. Students benefit from state-of-the-art laboratory facilities, expert faculty, and a curriculum that is constantly updated to reflect the latest advancements in the field.

Conclusion

If you're passionate about forensic science and wish to leverage biotechnology to solve real-world problems, AUST’s MS in Biotechnology with a Forensic Science track is the ideal program for you. This specialized degree offers the knowledge, skills, and hands-on experience needed to thrive in the dynamic field of forensic science. Enroll today and take the next step towards an exciting and rewarding career.

#MS in Biotechnology #Forensic Science track #forensic analysis #biotechnology graduate program

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fieryjeannearchives · 7 months ago

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Oshi no Ko AU Idea 🎤

AU in which Senku dies in a lab accident and reincarnates years in the future.

Funny enough, he ends up getting named “Senku” again because his name has become quite popular, being the name of the scientist that saved everyone, restored civilization, and all that.

As expected from being reincarnated with all his memories intact, Senku has several questions about how and why he wakes up again in the body of a baby, but is also excited about finding out everything there is to know about his so-called “reincarnation”. Or at least, that was his plan until he saw the news about how the “Former mentalist and diplomat of the Kingdom of Science, Gen Asagiri” was found dead.

If he’s going to keep reincarnating, then he has several lives ahead to investigate how reincarnation works. It could definitely wait. Finding out what actually happened to Gen not.

Unfortunately, being still a kid with no relationship with Gen or any of their former friends whatsoever, leaves him with little to do besides researching on the internet. He would have to wait until he’s old enough to join Suika’s “young scientists” program to actually investigate what happened.

Thus, he continues with his research and studies in the time being, focusing mainly on forensics, seeing as he might need it later. However, once again his plans get halted when a few years later he sees a new popular idol on television.

He had heard among his classmates about the self-proclaimed reincarnation of “Gen Asagiri”, a celebrity who decided to take his identity as part of his artistic persona.

Senku didn’t find the joke funny at all but there was, of course, that small hope that it was indeed Gen’s reincarnation. However, after checking one of his interviews and noticing how badly he characterised Gen, he concluded he was nothing but all talk. That guy was too flashy and exaggerated, missing completely the elegance and veil of enigma that made the original Gen Asagiri the Kingdom of Science’s first and last mentalist.

He couldn’t help but despise him after that, and intended to avoid anything related to him. He had no time for idols and gossip anyways.

And yet, when he accidentally catches a performance on live television, he sees Gen Asagiri again.

It’s not a magic show and yet his presence is almost tangible. He’s 10 billion percent sure of it.

And while he’s still too young to join Suika’s program, he is at the perfect age to become an idol.

He manages to make a pretty successful career but unfortunately, never gets close enough to talk to this Gen. And by the time he finally does, after auditioning and making it in the new idol group Dr. Stars, he finds out that the guy already hates his guts.

“Don’t take it personally, he doesn’t take kindly to anyone who tries to impersonate Senku Ishigami,” Kensho, the youngest member of the newly formed group, tells him.

“Kinda hypocritical on his part if you ask me,” Matt, the eldest member of the group, adds.

“Haha, not exactly! You see, he's a super fan of Senku Ishigami, right? And we all know about the rumors about his relationship with Asagiri, so choosing to impersonate him is another way to feel closer to his personal idol, not the other way round!” Ryota explains with a proud smile, earning a frown from Matt who calls it “creepy”, while Kensho hums and seems to actually consider the possibility.

Senku couldn’t care less either way. He just needs to talk to this Gen and find the truth himself.

And so the chase begins and eventually, after weeks of tracking the slippery Gen Asagiri, he was finally able to get him alone on the balcony after one of their rehearsals.

“I guess this was inevitable,” the guy sighed, turning to face him with a resigned smile. “You know? I really tried to persuade the agency to fire you. You’re not idol material. You memorize the choreographies perfectly, that I can give you, but you lack a sense of rhythm, and having a good face and voice can only get you so far.”

“I know, but that along with my family’s connections was enough to get me here,” Senku smirked, not at all offended by Gen’s words. He knows every bit of it is true and he doesn’t care one millimeter about it.

“That’s not something you should feel proud about.”

“Why not? I used every resource I had at my disposal and it finally paid off.”

“You’re going to break your fans' hearts.”

“They’ll get over it,” they already did before.

“So rude.”

“Don’t you mean, ude-ray?” Gen rolled his eyes.

“There’s no need to keep the act with a colleague.”

“Even one you hate?”

“Especially one I hate,” he said, earning a chuckle from Senku’s part.

“Oh, so Kensho wasn’t joking. You really are offended about me being–”

“You’re not Senku,” Gen interrupted, finally dropping that fake smile. “In what would would Senku Ishigami abandon science to become an idol? Don’t make me laugh! You have no idea how many guys I’ve met claiming to be him just because it meant having a chance to get close to a famous idol.”

“I would never abandon science, I’m just taking a detour to find you,” Senku replied. “Besides, you kinda started it, didn’t you? What else would you have expected from publicly declaring that you’re Gen Asagiri reincarnated?”

“Pff, as if anyone takes that seriously–”

“You did make sure of that, didn’t you?” Senku interrupted. “The classic ‘hiding things in plain sight’. However, as good as your acting might be, you cannot lie you’re on stage. Quite the paradox, isn’t it? A mentalist who is incredibly honest when it comes to his craft.”

Senku didn’t expect Gen to burst out laughing then.

“You… you’re delusional! Gen Asagiri killed himself years ago! Everyone knows that!”

“First of all, do you really want me to believe that ‘Gen Asagiri, lost in despair after the death of his beloved scientist, decided to put an end to his life’?” He quoted with a frown.

“Why not? Everyone is convinced that’s what happened.”

“Maybe the general public but those who know him, know he would never do that.”

“Oh, ‘those who know him’? Don’t tell me you’re a fan,” Gen mockingly replied.

“Ugh, again with that?” Senku asked and for a second he saw actual shock in Gen’s eyes. He definitely remembered it too. “I know for a fact that you wouldn’t have abandoned everyone like that, not when they needed you the most,” Senku refused to believe that. “I can’t say I know what happened, I’m still trying to figure it out but…”

“Fi-figure it out?” Gen repeated, clearly still trying to process what was happening.

“Yeah, who murdered you.”

“You think Gen Asagiri was murdered?”

“I know for a fact you were,” and since this was Gen who he was talking to, he might as well ask him: “Don’t you remember who it was?”

Gen stared at him for a solid second before slowly sitting down.

“Give me a minute, I had already given up that you would return as well.”

“Your body might look young but you’re acting like an old man now,” Senku can’t help but snicker, earning a glare.

“How old are we? I totally lost the count by now.”

“Well… depends if you want to count the years of those times we were petrified, in that case it would be…”

“Stop, don’t say it, I believe you.”

“Good,” Senku smiled, taking a seat beside him. “So tell me, who did it?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t see how or when they poisoned me, if that’s even what they did,” Gen admitted with a sigh. “All I got is one clue.”

“And that is…?”

“It was probably the same person that murdered you, Senku-chan.”

Senku blinked at that, confused.

“That’s not right, I had an accident in the lab, I… remember the last minutes before the explosion.”

“Senku-chan, think for a moment. You, probably one of the most brilliant minds this world has ever seen, having a deadly accident while working in his lab?” Senku opened his mouth to reply but quickly closed it when Gen continued: “And no one else was around? Not even Whyman was able to reach you to save you? And with all the doors completely locked despite you never being the type to do that?”

“You were investigating… my death?”

“And that’s how they got me,” Gen nodded. “Though they weren’t kind enough to make it seem like an accident this time. Guess they feared it would become too suspicious.”

Senku had to agreed on that. However, there was still one thing that didn’t make sense.

“Why did you choose to become an idol in this life?”

There was no way he was going to believe that Gen had decided to move on from the past. Knowing him, he was up to something and he was determined to find out what it was and help him.

“You tell me, Senku-chan, why would I? Am I still aiming to have an idol harem?”

“Whoever did this, was in the industry.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We’ve a winner! Ten billion points for you~!” Gen exclaimed as Senku tried to make sense of it.

What could possibly someone within the industry have against him? And how the hell did Gen even reach that conclusion?!

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

“I’m pretty sure I’m starting to see smoke coming out of your ears.”

“It… it doesn’t make any sense!”

“It really doesn’t, and I would have never imagined it if it weren’t because an interview was conducted in your lab earlier that day. A lot of people came in and left… Sure, the police said that they interviewed everyone, but since everything pointed to an accident I had my doubts they did a thorough job. Of course, this was such a hunch but I must have been getting close to something considering…”

“...you were also found dead in a dressing room,” Senku remembered then from the reports. “Was it from the same station from the interview?”

“It was… and since they also happen to have an idol division…”

“...you chose that one as a way to get in,” it was probably one of the quickest paths considering Gen’s resources. “Wait, were you actually trying to provoke them by claiming to be yourself?”

“Yeah, at first that was the plan but unfortunately I doubt it has any effect now since it's been so overused, which is why I’ve been trying to be more careful. I still don’t know if they were too good at concealing their reaction or I simply haven’t crossed paths with them yet.”

It made sense, or so Senku thought, however, when he looked back to Gen again, he found that he was already staring at him as well.

“There’s something else, isn’t it?”

“I… might have hoped that you would come back too.”

“Well, at least that plan worked like a charm,” he was certainly allured like a moth to a flame.

“Sorry for not letting you enjoy your second life, Senku-chan.”

“Heh, you can always make up for it in the next one,” Senku smiled, finally standing up and offering his hand to help Gen get up as well.

“The next one? Why not this one?”

“Well, we still have a murderer to catch, don’t we?”

“You… you’re going to help me?”

“I was already working on it without you butting in, I’m not going to stop now.”

Gen stared at him for a moment and Senku had no idea what he saw before he let out a soft chuckle: “Never thought you’d have that sense of justice, Senku-chan.”

“Guess that’s a way to call it,” he laughed as well.

It certainly sounded better than what he was actually aiming for.

–

{ Silly extra }

“So that’s Ryota-chan’s little sister! She’s so cute!” Gen said, which Senku wouldn’t have minded had the girl not kept glaring daggers at him.

“Haha, don’t mind her! She heard that Gen is a fan of Senku and must be confusing you with him,” Ryota explained. “I told you already, the Senku Gen likes was a scientist, not an idol.”

“Then I’m going to become a scientist and marry Gen one day!” The girl declared, sticking out her tongue at Senku for double measure.

Of course, Gen didn’t expect that to bother the usually patient scientist. However, the evil smile on his face proved otherwise.

“Ho? You’re on, little girl.”

“The hell are you doing, Senku-chan?!”

{ Fin }

#dcst brainrot #sengen #fic ideas

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darklove9314-blog · 4 months ago

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Casual: A Bryce/Nesta fanfic (NSFW)

Hello everyone and Welcome to SJM Pride week, I hope everyone enjoys the stories I have planned! Prompt: Exploration.

Synopsis: Set in an AU Crescent City. After one of her dormmates gets kicked out. Bryce Quinalan meets Nesta Acheron, will her feelings for her turn into something more?

content warnings: NSFW content, canon divergence (Nesta is a vampire instead of fae in this fic as well)

Her soft lips parted, the taste of cinnamon coating, Bryce's lips as she grasped the leopard shifters face, accepting her kisses as the female pushed her against the wall, wanting nothing more than to get closer to her as Bryce happily accepted the females affection.

Despite the fact that this was one of the better hookups Bryce had had in a while, she wasn't shocked when she combed through her memory, trying to search for the females name only to come up empty.

That was how it usually was ever since she had come to CCU, she had found a female or male that she wanted to hook up with then by morning, she would leave them in her tracks.

She knew it was wrong, knew she should have at least had more than just a causal relationship with a person, but in all honesty the last thing she wanted was something serious when she was trying to get a degree in Forensic Science. As if Biochemistry wasn't hard enough to focus on without a situationship to add to it.

Winding her hands in the leopard shifters lavender hair, Bryce drove her down into the bed, a giggle slipping from her lips as Bryce straddled her, her cherry red hair curtaining before of them as the leopard shifter rose her hand gently to tuck some of the strands behind Bryce's curved ears.

"You're beautiful." She whispered, laying her hand on Bryce's hip as Bryce rose, still straddling the shifter as she pulled her blouse over her head, wanting nothing more than to find that sweet, sweet release before the door swung open, ruining everything.

Bryce swore, her shirt getting caught on her necklace as it blinded her to what was happening as the leopard shifter yelped in surprise, Bryce feeling gravity work against her as she fell off the bed, her body screaming in protest as she hit the hardwood floors. Hard.

"Son of a bitch!" She growled out, finally getting her shirt unclasped from her necklace in time to see the leopard shifter quickly grabbing her clothes, rushing towards the door as she yelled a quick.

"Sorry! Call me later!" before she left, leaving her and her roommate Danika alone, a blush tinting Bryce's cheeks as she sat there mortified.

"She was hot." Danika teased, making her blush deepen as she pulled her shirt back on, wincing slightly as she stood up, noting that she would probably bruise in the morning as she placed her hands on her hips, glaring at Danika.

"She was. Was there a reason you barged in here, completing missing the bra on the door, and ruining my hookup in the process? Or-"

Danika turned, quickly shutting the door and throwing her jacket over her desk chair before she turned back to Bryce,

"So you're telling me that you don't want to hear the juicy gossip I heard before I came in here or did you just want to stand there and wallow over a hookup that doesn't even matter to you that much anyway."

"What makes you think that I didn't care about that hookup?" Bryce inquired as Danika rolled her eyes, kicking off her boots as she replied,

"Did you even remember this ones name?"

Bryce sighed loudly, sitting back on her bed as a knowing smile passed Danika's lips at her assumption being correct.

"Are you going to tell me this gossip or what?"

A grin spread over Danika’s face as she spun her chair around to fully face Bryce,

“Do you remember when Kelsey got kicked out last week for that mirthroot?” Danika asked as Bryce nodded,

“How could I forget? I’m sure the entire dorm heard her get escorted out.” Bryce reminisced, remembering how the high fae yelled at the top of her lungs that her father would hear about this incident.

Danika waved off Kelsey’s reaction to continue,

“Well I talked to Emerie, her former dorm mate, and it turns out that she’s getting a new roommate.”

“Already? I didn’t think the administration was that fast.”

“Usually they aren’t but there was a transfer from another university who just landed last night. According to Emerie, she’ll be here tonight.”

Bryce blew out an exasperated breath,

“You interrupted my hookup to tell me about a new girl.”

“I interrupted your hookup because Reid invited us to his fraternity’s party tonight.”

Bryce groaned,

“I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do less.” Bryce responded, picking the dirt from her nails, earning a leveled look from Danika.

“Oh come on, Quinlan, everyone is going. Even Juniper and Fury.”

Bryce looked up at that, her eyebrow quirking up in question as Danika smiled,

“I may have convinced them to come.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you spend hours in this room with your nose in those books, you need to take a break every once in a while.”

“I can’t afford to take a break and you know that.” Bryce argued.

“You just think you can’t, but if all you do is study and allow yourself a hookup here and there then you’ll burn yourself out. It happens all the time.”

Bryce chewed her lip, knowing that Danika had a point, and that her work had suffered due to her lack of social life. Maybe this party would t be so bad.

“Fine. I’ll go but on one condition.”

Danika’s eyebrow rose in question as she gestured for Bryce to continue.

“That the next time you see a bra in the door, no matter what the gossip that you’ll at least have common curtesy and knock.”

Danika let out a low laugh,

“I promise. Now come on, I made us both a nail appointment and a hair appointment before the party tonight, bring your bio whatever book if you want to.”

Blowing out a sigh, Bryce stood up, grabbing her Biochem book so she could study before following Danika out the door.

The nail tech examined her nails, making sure that she got her pink accrylic nails just right as Bryce glanced over to Danika, the wolf shifter still busy with her pedicure as the bell rang, signaling the entrance of another customer.

"May I help you?" The witch who owned this salon asked, Bryce noticing some tension in her stance as she glanced at who had stepped through the door and her heart nearly stopped in response.

This female, whoever she was, was one of the most gorgeous human beings Bryce had ever seen,

Despite the Witch's obvious hesitation at her presence there, The female held herself confidently, taking off her shades as Bryce drank in those intense blue-gray eyes.

"I'm here for my appointment with Alyx." The female replied, The witch's gaze shifting to the woman in the chair next to Bryce's as the nail tech beside her stood, a smile blossoming across her face.

"Hey Nesta, take a seat, I'm just finishing setting everything up."

The female, Nesta walked over to where Alyx was, sitting down in the unoccupied chair next to Bryce as Bryce's throat bobbed in response.

She shook her head, trying to get herself to snap out of it, She had been with a lot of drop dead gorgeous females, had talked to them without a moments hesitation, but this female...Bryce had no words.

She dared a glance at her, the nail tech setting up what appeared to be French tipped nails as Bryce glanced at Nesta, she definitely seemed like the female that would prefer French tipped nails. Her outfit and the way she held herself screamed that she was someone who loved to keep everything nice and pristine, and Bryce, well, Nesta was the type of female that she had always considered out of her league.

Bryce averted her gaze, hearing the female place her bag on the floor as she greeted her nail tech, the two discussing how her day went as Bryce tried not to listen, trying to remember the manners her mother had incited in her, but Bryce had never been that great of a listener.

"So what brings you to Lunthain?" Alyx asked. trying to make conversation with Nesta as Nesta glanced up from assessing her nails to answer,

"I just transferred to the university up here."

Bryce could have sworn her breath caught as she tried her best to focus on her own nails, trying to not make it obvious that she was listening to this conversation, but her mind was spinning in a bunch of different direction as she glanced over to Danika to see if she had heard also.

The wolf shifter was on her phone, one of her earphones plugged in as she texted someone hurriedly on her phone, biting her lip as Bryce quirked one eyebrow up at her. She wondered what that was about,

Turning her gaze back to her own nail tech, Bryce sat back in her chair, trying to seem like she was concentrating on something else as she swore Nesta's brows furrowed., a look of annoyance crossing over her face as Alyx continued,

"That's awesome, I know the university up here is a pretty great one, and the teachers are all pretty good, well with the exception of a few, what are you studying?"

"I'm trying to get my JD." Nesta answered as Alyx blew out a low whistle,

"Difficult degree. What made you want to study law?" The nail tech asked as a wicked smile curved Nesta's lips, making Bryce pause in a different way as a flash of fangs glimmered with that heart dropping smile.

"Let's just say I love to argue. My relatives call me rather...bloodthirsty."

A nervous laugh escaped Alyx's lips, her body scrunching up slightly as Nesta's smile faded slightly to hide her fangs.

Bryce glanced back at the two, searching around for something, anything to ease this tension, and alright, she may have been looking for an excuse to take to the vampyr, but primarily it was to help ease Alyx's nerves.

That's when her focus found it, her eyes snagging on the book protruding from Nesta's back as she breathed,

"You're a fan of Sellyn Drake?"

Those silver blue eyes turned to her, one of her perfectly groomed golden brown eyebrows quirking up in question, Bryce gulped, the intensity of the females gaze rather unnerving, but Bryce had rarely backed down from a challenge before.

"The book in your bag, it's from one of my favorite authors." She explained as Nesta tilted her head, as if assessing Bryce. She wondered what the female saw when she glanced back.

"You're a fan of classic literature?" Nesta questioned as Bryce shrugged in response.

"I'm taking a classic literature course for my degree, I figured it would be a nice change from all my science courses."

"A female in S.T.E.M." Nesta smiled as Bryce threw her hair back sending a smirk over to Nesta.

"Forensic science if you want me to get specific, but yeah, I would be classified as one."

Nesta flashed those fangs once again, Bryce swearing she could feel heat rising up to her cheeks as Nesta's silver blue eyes swept over her with interest.

"So you go to CCU?"

Bryce nodded, ready to take this discussion further as her nail tech coughed slightly, grabbing her attention.

"Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but your nails are done and I would like to start on you pedicure since you're only scheduled for an hour or so."

"Oh, Ugh, yeah, sorry." She stammered out, glancing back at Nesta as the female waved her embarrassment off,

"It's fine, if there's anything I understand, it's a strict schedule. Maybe I'll catch you around sometime."

"Yeah, maybe." Bryce smiled, rising from her chair and following the Nail tech over to the pedicure area as she stole one last glance at Nesta, the females attention already going back to the nail tech. Bryce still swearing she could still feel those intense, alluring eyes on her as she went.

“Okay spill. What’s got you so distracted?” Danika asked putting down her Eternal City magazine, the head Asteri Rigelus on the front cover as Bryce glanced up from where she had been working in her Biochemistry homework, whirling her chair around to glance at Danika in question.

“What do you mean?” She asked, rubbing her eyes which had dried and tired from how long she had been staring at one of her equations.

“Usually you blow through your Biochemistry homework. Which means there’s something up. What is it? Do I need to kick someone’s ass.”

Bryce shook her head, closing her book as she shoved it away from her,

“I’m just having trouble concentrating is all.”

Danika’s brow quirked at that, leaning forward in her bed as she replied,

“Now I really need to know what’s going on. Spill.”

Bryce sighed wishing that Danika was not so nosy as she continued,

“Do you remember that vampyr from earlier? The one in the salon.”

“You mean the hot one that you were drooling over?”

Bryce gaped,

“You mean you heard every word and you didn’t say anything?”

Danika shrugged.

“I wanted to see how it played out, you know is since I promised not to interrupt your hook ups.”

Bryce sighed, she knew that would come back to bite her eventually, but she hadn’t expected it to happen that same day.

“Besides you seemed to be hitting it off with the vamp. You didn’t need my interfering to make her interested.”

“She’s our new dorm mate.” Bryce admitted as Danika’s jaw nearly dropped,

“You knew this and you didn’t say anything.” Danika pressed as a smile curved Bryce’s lips.

“Not fun to be on the receiving end of that now is it?”

Danika sighed loudly, springing off of her bed as she glanced at the clock.

“If we’re going to make it to Reid’s party we better get moving.” Danika replied as Bryce stood gathering her stuff as she said,

“I’ll get dressed in the bathroom.” She told Danika , heading for it before Danika could interject.

Danika let out a low whistle as Bryce emerged, her cherry wine hair now in a high ponytail as she showed off her strapless white dress, paired with her light pink stilettos and a pink bombshell jacket.

“Damn. Are you planning in getting lucky tonight, Quinlan.” Danika teased applying her last coat of mascara before she stood and Bryce laughed,

“You’re one to talk I’ve never seen you this dressed up before even for frat parties. Why the extra effort tonight?”

Danika bit her lip, playing with the silver hoops in her ears as she answered,

“I may have omitted one person who will be going with us tonight.” Danika admitted as Bryce sighed.

“What’s his name?”

“Baxian.” Danika replied, biting her lip sheepishly.

“And where do you know him from?” Bryce asked her, searching her memory to see if Danika had told her anything about this Baxian guy and coming up empty.

"Fury may have introduced us." Danika admitted as Bryce rose her eyebrow.

"And when was this?"

"Two weeks ago, and before you start, we're still in the talking stage, it's nothing serious as of yet. I don't even think he's aware that I'm interested."

A smile tugged at the corner of Bryce's lips as she said,

"Well, i sure do hope he's worth all the effort."

"I hope you're right."

Bryce glanced at the clock, looping her arms through Danika's as she smiled,

"Well then we better get going before your late to your date."

"Again, I'm not sure if it's even a date." Danika smiled, her canine's on full display.

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that." Bryce teased as they headed out, ready for the party.

"Danika! Bryce! Over here!" Juniper called out over the music, her hand gesturing them forward as Bryce noticed a crowd had gathered around them. Fury's arm around the Fawn shifter's waist as they were surrounded by a group of their friends.

"Hey Quinlan." Connor, one of Danika's pack mates, smiled as her and Danika finally made their way through the crowd.

A male Bryce didn't recognize stood amongst their group, seeming rather out of place as he moved closer to them. an angel, she observed as he walked up to Danika, her best friend turning towards him with a smile.

"You look beautiful." He said to her, giving her a kiss on her cheek as she swore Danika blushed. Oh she was definitely down bad for this male.

"You don't look too bad yourself." She smiled back at him, taking a step towards him as Bryce turned to Connor and his brother, Ithan, not wanting to be a fifth wheel as she asked Ithan,

"How is Sunball going?"

The music rushed through her blood, consuming her as she danced against Juniper, the Fawn shifter keeping to the rhythm of the beat as they both laughed, some of Bryce's beer sloshing to the floor.

"Shit." Bryce said, frowning at the mess she had made on the floor as Juniper waved it off.

"Don't worry about it the pledges will take care of it in the morning."

Bryce shrugged, glancing at the bottom of her red solo cup, seeing that she had nearly emptied it due to her clumsiness as she yelled out,

"I'm going to get another! Want to join?"

Juniper's mouth popped open to answer Bryce's question as a hand snaked around Juniper's waist, Fury smiling from ear to ear as she asked Juniper,

"Care for a dance?"

Juniper shot pleading eyes to Bryce as Bryce waved her off,

"Enjoy your dance, I'm going to go get a refill."

Juniper shot her a grateful look turning to embrace Fury as Bryce turned to the crowd, weaving her way through it to get to the kitchen as she greeted a few party goers as she passed by.

Her gaze turning at one point to notice Danika in the corner, getting as close to Baxian as she could possibly manage, barely any space between their two bodies as Bryce turned her glance away. She would definitely get those details later.

Finally making her way to the kitchen, Bryce nearly stumbled over her heels as she exited the crowd, nearly toppling to the floor and losing whatever contents of her beer she had left before fast hands caught her just in time.

Bryce glanced up to thank her savior, expecting one of the frat boys, before she stopped dead in her tracks at who was holding her. Nesta Archeron.

She looked like a vision in a black strapless dress, her freckles on full display as a loose braid adored her hair. Bryce praying to whatever Gods would listen that she had not dropped her beer on those red bottom shoes.

She took a step back, pulling herself together as she cleared her throat,

"Sorry about that."

"It's no problem." Nesta smiled slightly.

Bryce was about to ask her what she was doing here when a familiar hand snaked around Nesta's waist, pulling her close as something similar to envy struck a nerve in Bryce.

"Hey legs, I didn't expect to see you here tonight." Tharion said, sending a dazzling smile in Bryce's direction as he handed Nesta her own cup.

"Your beer, my lady."

Nesta gave him a small smile, holding the beer closer to her chest as she turned to him,

"Do you mind giving Bryce a refill? It seems like she's out."

"Anything for you." Tharion smiled, grabbing Bryce's cup before she could interject, and heading back towards the keg.

"Damn, you've been here less than twenty four hours and you already have him wrapped around your finger."

Nesta shrugged, "It's not that hard."

Bryce choked on a laugh as Nesta's eyes swept over her, glancing down,

"Nice heels."

Bryce glanced down at them, showing them off slightly as she smiled,

"Thanks. I like yours too."

"Oh, these old things," Nesta pointed, showing off those gorgeous red bottoms, "I just pulled out the first shoes I saw in my closet. I haven't really got a chance to unpack all my wardrobe yet."

"How is that going?" She asked, "The new room situation that is."

Nesta took a swig of her beer,

"Emerie seems like a nice female, and I have no doubt that her and I will be the best of friends, but I'm still getting used to being here."

"I can understand that. Did she come as well tonight?"

Nesta shook her head, "She had other obligations to attend to, so when Tharion asked me if I wanted to go to this party, I thought, why not?"

"Well if I know Tharion well enough, I'm sure you'll have a great time. He's always the life of the party."

Nesta shrugged, "I was more the wallflower at parties, but things can change over time."

"Here you go legs, i got that beer for you." Tharion interrupted, giving Bryce her beer as she gave him a small smile.

"Thanks." She smiled as Nesta glanced at Tharion, her eyebrows lifting in question,

"Why do you call her legs?"

"Cause she's got a great pair of them." Tharion answered nonchalantly, gesturing at them as Bryce fought the blush that was forming on her face.

Nesta gave them a once over as she smiled,

"I have to agree."

Bryce wasn't sure how to answer that as she rubbed the back of her neck before saying,

"Well, I better get back to my friends before they start wondering where I am." Bryce interjected, sure that her friends hadn't worried about her at all as Nesta turned those blue grey eyes to her, letting Tharion pull her closer as she answered,

"I'll see you around then."

"See ya later, legs!" Tharion shouted, pulling Nesta in the direction where his friends were as Bryce took a deep breath, glancing at the female one last time before going back to find her own.

Bryce collapsed on her bed with her groan that night, glad that she had returned back to an empty room after Danika had informed her that she was spending the night in Baxian's dorm and she would be back in the morning, Bryce had waved her off and after having a dance with nearly everyone had ended her night and went back to the safety of her dorm room.

She did not want to leave the comfort and safety of her bedroom, would have laid in that comfy bed forever had it not been for her mom's constant nagging about removing makeup before going to sleep.

She groaned softly, untying her hair as it fell in loose curls around her shoulder and she jumped off her bed, careful not to trip as she made her way to the bathroom, opening the door to see none other than Nesta Archeron on the other side.

"Oh hi." She said, stepping back from the mirror as she rubbed the back of her neck, "I guess i forgot that we share a bathroom."

"Hi." Bryce stammered back, "ugh, no worries, I can leave if you need to take a shower or anything."

"Oh, i already took one earlier." She said gesturing towards it, "But if you need to take one I can hurry this up."

"It's alright, don't trouble yourself, I just needed to take off my makeup and honestly the counter is big enough that we can both use it without issue."

Nesta stepped to the side, allowing Bryce some space as she gathered her things, pulling them over to her side as she took a small glance at Nesta.

"So, how was your night with Tharion?"

Nesta glanced over to her, shrugging as she explained,

"Nearly non existent. He's not really my type."

"What is your type?" Bryce asked before she could think better about it. It wasn't really her business what Nesta's preferences were, but she was dying to know.

Nesta took a step back from the counter facing her fully as Bryce turned to meet her as if hypnotized by her presence.

"Smart, gorgeous,.." She explained taking a step closer to Bryce as she continued, "Preferably female."

Bryce bulked at that, "But, you were with-"

Nesta shrugged, "It's not that I don't like males, it's just that females have always been more interesting to me, more on my...level."

Bryce gulped, feeling like the space between them was damn near non existant as she inquired,

"So, any females you have your eye on?"

Nesta closed the space between them, exposing her fanged smile as she answered,

"Just one." before she closed the space between their lips.

One second Bryce had been meeting Nesta's kisses stroke for stroke, fighting with the vamp for dominance and the next she was pressed against the counter, her body facing the mirror as Nesta's clever hands traveled downward, cupping her gently.

She moaned into Nesta's mouth, hoping that she could feel the heat there as Nesta smiled slightly. Bryce tilted her head back offering her throat to Nesta as she licked up the side of it, tasting her sweetness as she pressed hungry kisses into it, gently teasing her with the tips of her fangs before she bit down, earning a small gasp from Bryce before a moan of pleasure replaced it.

Bryce had heard about the euphoria that came from a vampyr's bite, had always wanted to put that theory to the test, but until now she had not found a vamp that also wasn't insufferable. Until she met her.

And she was happy to report that they had all been right. This was the sweetest euphoria she had ever felt, as her body yearned for more.

Grinding her ass against Nesta, the female groaned, retracting her teeth from Bryce's throat to whisper in her ear,

"Careful there Quinaln."

A mischievous smile burst from Bryce's lips as Nesta licked her blood from her lips, kissing Bryce as she turned around to cup the females face., stroking her cheeks as the vamp met her kiss eagerly.

With her vamp strength, Nesta hoisted Bryce onto the counter, Bryce's legs wrapping around the females midsection as she slanted her lips to deepen their kiss, not able to get enough of the female.

"Do you want this?" Nesta whispered into her mouth as Bryce's breath hitched, nodding eagerly.

She wanted this. Wanted her for however long the vamp would have her as she spread her legs wider to accompany Nesta as the female got on her knees, hoisting on of Bryce's legs on her shoulder, not flinching at the heel pressed there as she kissed Bryce's ankle, pressing her soft kisses up Bryce's leg as Bryce tilted her head back moaning from the pleasure.

A hint of a smile played on Nesta's lips, her blue gray eyes seeming to stare into Bryce's soul as she breathed deeply. Nesta placed her other leg on her shoulder, both heels biting her shoulders as her hands traveled upward remving Bryce's thong and throwing it off to the side as she inhaled her scent.

"Delectable." She smiled, pushing up Bryce's dress as the first stroke of the female's tongue sent Bryce into a tail spin, her head thrown back as the female devoured her, Bryce rising her face meeting the strokes of Nesta's tongue as her moans filled the bathroom. Not caring who heard them, even if it was the whole damn dorm.

She rode that high, enjoying the feel of the female's tongue on her center, her fingers plunging in during some point as Bryce rode her hands too. seeking her pleasure, taking everything Nesta offered her as she felt the first telling of her orgasm coming.

She cried out in pleasure, her body roiling with the force of her orgasm, crashing into her like an ocean as Nesta weathered the storm.

Panting, Nesta pulled away, pleased with her work as those intense blue gray eyes bored into Bryce's letting her know this night was far from over as she turned, biting into the tender flesh of Bryce's upper thigh as Bryce let out another moan letting Nesta drink from her as she licked the wound when she was done, Bryce carefully jumping off of the counter as she grasped Nesta's hand pulling her up as she asked,

"Your room or mine?"

A wicked gleam crossed Nesta's gaze as she smiled,

"Yours obviously."

Bryce smiled, leading Nesta to her room as she pleasured the Nesta for the rest of the night.

#sjmprideweek2025 #nesta archeron #bryce quinlan #nesta and bryce #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #crescent city #crescent city 2 #crescent city 3 #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #house of flame and shadow #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction

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mamasbakeria · 2 years ago

Text

hey, what's your major again?

summary: my credible expert opinion on what the aot characters would study in university. what are my qualifications? the dozens of hours i’ve spent staring at my school’s program bulletin trying to figure out what i’m majoring in

genre | includes: headcanons, sfw, minor language, uninformed percy jackson reference (pls don't hate me if im wrong)

characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, sasha braus, jean kirschtein, connie springer, historia reiss, ymir, reiner braun, annie leonhardt

author’s note: had this in my drafts for months now. i just need to post it so it stops haunting me. might do the rest of the marleyans and vets in the future! lmk your thoughts, my only tumblr notifications are from p*rn bots, so i'd love to hear from real people lol. enjoy <3

eren: sociology and public policy, 4+1 program for a social work masters

there’s only so many times you can hear “you’re gonna be a doctor just like your dad” before you start to believe it. that’s why eren started out with biology on the premed track. the thing is, he really didn’t care for it. eren is really passionate about lessening equity gaps and is a firm believer in “if you want something done right, do it yourself”. this is why i see him making the switch to a double major in public policy and sociology. he wants to know about how society got to the point of perpetuating disparities so that he can fix them. but he also knows that the government fucking sucks and thinks its naive to expect policy change to be the only method of change. and like the maniac he is, eren is enrolled in a 4+1 program so he can get his master’s in social work when he’s done with his undergrad. he’s determined to graduate with both degrees in just 4 years though. rip his summers.

armin: international relations and military ethics, minor in communications or smth

everyone always says armin would study marine biology or oceanographic studies, but i honestly think that it’s a passion that he pursues on the side. he takes marine bio courses for his breadth requirements, but knows he’d end up hating the ocean if he spent the rest of his life studying it. he also strikes me as someone who would rather run buck naked into traffic than sit through multiple semesters of organic chemistry. armin was always a good public speaker, though, despite being a bit insecure. that’s why his speech and debate teacher during sophomore year of high school recommended model united nations to him. he was hooked after his first conference and now genuinely sees the path of international diplomacy as his calling. that’s why he’s majoring in international relations. his concentration in military ethics is something he tacks on in his junior year after taking some courses and publishing research with dr. erwin smith. he probably minors in communications because he can.

mikasa: forensic science

mikasa had no idea what she wanted to do when she started uni. she’s good at nearly everything. like never gotten a B in her life and is the student who the curve is based off of. but excelling in every environment you’re put in often means you don’t know what you’re best at. she knew deep down that she wanted to do something justice related like her childhood best friends did, but she’s no public speaker and has no interest in political reform. she was, however, emo in high school and heard a fair share of undertaker jokes at her expense. it wouldn’t hurt to look into right? as cool as the title sounds, morticians don’t make enough money for the job they have. fortunately enough, forensic pathologists do and mikasa looks good in a lab coat. she would never admit it to spare armin and eren’s feelings, but when they, as children, recreated the crime-solving shows mrs. jaeger always had on, mikasa always wanted to be the brains. so criminology and forensic science it is. (side note: she definitely joins the military and they pay for her education)

jean: structural engineering and industrial design with a minor in studio art

more than anything, jean wants to provide for his mom and knows he can’t guarantee a retirement of luxury for her as the freelance artist he wishes he could be. he’s decent at math when he tries and doesn’t hate physics, so he decided he’d give structural engineering a try for at least a semester or two. he wasn’t expecting to get much from it, to be honest. he had a plethora of backup plans waiting for his supposedly inevitable distaste for engineering, but he found that he didn’t hate it at all. someone once told jean that he had the makings of a great leader and he didn’t believe them until he started taking the lead on design projects and producing incredible results. his only qualm is that he just doesn’t get to be as creative as he wanted to be. that was easily rectified by an additional major in industrial design and a minor in studio art. he’s unbelievably busy, busier than he anticipated when he started his post-secondary journey, but he’s content and there’s nothing some extra coffee can’t solve.

sasha: environmental science and sustainability

sasha spent her childhood ankle-deep in mud and fighting her way through forest thickets without a compass. an upbringing like that doesn’t leave your spirit, no matter how far into the city you go for school. so sasha’s always been passively passionate about the environment. that passiveness became significantly more prominent when part of the woods she grew up in was cleared out to build an industrial complex. it was then that she started researching and writing petitions about preserving wildlife and making environmentally conscious decisions. her work actually got her the scholarship she’s on (because god knows it wasn’t her grades). and she genuinely loves what she does, so why wouldn’t she keep learning about it? the environmental science and sustainability program at the school is small, but tight-knit and known for churning out changemakers. sasha knows she’ll be one of them one day. just hide your plastic straws from her, okay?

connie: computer science and chinese

stick with me here okay? everyone expects connie to be a douchebag marketing major whose hardest assignments are graphing functions and making posters on photoshop, but he’s a lot more invested in his education than he looks. don’t get me wrong, connie has always struggled academically, but that’s because so much of early education is pre-determined. he performed way better when he could choose what courses he took. it’s kind of like percy jackson being dyslexic in english because he was wired to read in greek. connie can’t keep his eyes on a history textbook for shit, but will gladly sit in front of the c++ code on his pc for hours. he doesn’t even get mad when he realizes that he was missing a semicolon. connie loves how versatile of a future he could have with a compsci degree, because, let’s be real, he could never survive in a typical office environment. definitely takes a bunch of chinese classes and doesn’t realize that he has enough credits for it to be a minor until his second to last semester.

historia: political science with a minor in international relations and child development

historia is a lot like eren in the sense that she knows her time is best spent doing hands-on work in the fields she cares about. she realizes this sometime after reconnecting with her estranged father and volunteering at the orphanage she grew up in. but now that she’s publicly associated with a powerful political figure, historia doesn’t get to do what she wants, only what is expected of her. that’s how she ends up on the pre-law political science and public policy route. the nickname “ms. president” that connie and sasha give her only further reminds her that she’s heading down a path she never wanted for herself. after lots of encouragement from ymir, historia decided to take child development courses on the side. even if she doesn’t take on the full minor, she’s taking some classes she cares about. maybe she’ll find use for it someday. at the very least, it’s her first step in becoming the most selfish girl in the world.

ymir: data science and business management

ymir is smart. much smarter than she presents herself to be, almost as a form of protection. nobody expects much of someone who is aloof, so it makes it easy to slip through the cracks to remain safe and comfortable in the shadows. business management is notoriously low commitment and easy to skate by with. guaranteed internships, post-graduate employment, and so on. To anyone who doesn’t know ymir well, it’s perfect. but they have her mistaken, ymir will do as little as possible to go as far as possible. sure, she can live comfortably with a business degree, but it could be better with a little bit of data science in her arsenal. she’s intelligent enough to pick up on it, and determined enough to make it her bitch. yeah, academia is a money-sucking pipeline into the capitalist hellscape, she doesn’t believe in it yada yada, but at the end of the day, ymir’s gonna get the bag. so what if she’s gotta sleep through some stats classes to get it?

reiner: behavioral economics

reiner’s mother had convinced him his whole life that getting a high paying job would fix their lives and bring his father back. believing “perfect grades lead to a perfect life” made high school tough for reiner; gifted kid burnout is no joke. it really messed him up. he wasn’t sure if he could withstand the pressures of university, but here he is. reiner was never allowed a therapist, so he figured pursuing psychology would, at the very least, give him some answers and be a good pathway to a medical degree. he loved getting to understand how people work and why they act the way they do, but something was missing. he found out what it was when a guest lecturer spoke in his economics class. he knew making the switch would be risky, it’s a new field and his current career options are really only research, academia, or government, but the interdisciplinary study of behavioral economics is calling reiner’s name.

annie: biomedical engineering and kinesiology

annie’s entire life revolved around her father, including the injury he was never able to heal from. the one she gave him. he’s claimed to be over it, she’s forgiven, but annie will never feel like she’s earned that forgiveness until she gets rid of the problem entirely. how is she going to do that exactly? with biomedical engineering. she has years of hell in front of her, especially with her concentration on biomechanics, but she doesn’t care. annie will throw herself into her work to get the results she wants. she takes the highest amount of credits possible every semester so she can graduate early. you’ll most likely find her chained to a study cubicle at the library at all hours of the day and running on 2 hours of sleep, but it doesn’t faze her. she tacks on a minor in kinesiology because it makes sense and she had most of the credits for it anyway. and as if it couldn’t get worse, she probably TAs for a thermodynamics course or something crazy like that.

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