#jewelry enterprises

[owlishfuncrafts]

Despite intending to do some block printing today with my new monstera leaf carvings, I ended up Mod Podging a Star Trek comic in preparation for making some new comic book necklaces.

I got a request for a Star Trek necklace from another vendor last market, so figured I'd just process a bunch on pendants from the Star Trek comic I have on hand.

[oldschoolfrp]

1980s fantasy-themed silver and helenite jewelry by Monica Roi Saxon / MRS Sunshine Enterprises Inc (ad in Dragon magazine #62, June 1982).  Helenite is an artificial glass made by fusing ash from the 1980 eruption of Mount St Helens.

D&D inspo:  Unique gems might be found around volcanoes, in areas blasted by dragon breath, around portals to the Elemental Plane of Fire, or within fiery outer planes.

[radiantgeminiwares]

My Star Trek TOS rings are ready! Check out The Enterprise, Command Gold, Science Blue, and Support Red at https://radiantgeminirings.bigcartel.com/

[jay-wasreblogging]

Fried Egg Cloud Kid Pin / Brooch from QVWC

[sunnetherlands]

https://www.sunenterprises.eu/en/products/leather-cord.html

[helluvapoison]

jealousy, jealousy

˚✧₊⁎ The Vees ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: violence, off page murdah, suggestive themes, possessive behavior

18+ only

watch out for red flags in real life and read at your own discretion ♡

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• The least jealous of the three, but that doesn’t say much, does it?

• Running an enterprise goes hand in hand with being an Overlord. Vox prides himself on being everywhere at once but he knows his limits. If wants to keep this cushy life he built, and you safe, he can’t spread himself too thin. That means occasionally cutting back on distractions

• So go out, have your fun— playtoys even! He’s not worried. Vox has literal eyes on you 24/7, access to your phone and all its contents, your lifeline is constantly synced to his peripherals. Really! He’s not worried!

• The problem arises when Vox feels threatened or undermined. If he’s in the same room, no one should even be looking at you! And if some sorry soul dared to touch you!? That’d be the last time they have hands

• “I’ve been looking for you!” He says from behind as his claws creep around your shoulders. He’ll ignore the Sinner, bringing your attention to him as security drags them away. You don’t need to know how jealous he can get

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Sharing, shockingly, is not in her vocabulary! Not outfits, not credit, not the spotlight and fucking especially not you

• You’re her favorite project, she so lovingly calls you, which is a giant compliment. She dresses you every day so if— for some hellish reason— you left her side, she knows she has a visual claim on you. Vel quickly snaps and posts a pic of the two of you together before you go, just to remind her audience the fact you’re spoken for! Don’t you feel safe? And stylish?

• Unlike her partners, Velvette can multitask so having you around the studio can be an everyday treat! Unfortunately she has to split her focus, occasionally crashing the conversation to a stop so she can snap at someone

• Her eyes are sharp, they pick up on every little detail and seldom miss a thing. No one in her workshop would even think about approaching you, unless Vel asked, so it was all too easy to spot that new-nobody-model break his neck to check you out

• You’ve seen Velvette reduce even the oldest, most thick skinned to a puddle of piss in the street with her words. She doesn’t give anyone the chance to touch what’s hers. She’s shameless and loud, stopping the inappropriate behavior from across the room if she has to, “Oy! You! You’re fuckin’ fired, get the fuck out of here ‘fore I set you on fire!”

• As they run for the elevator, she debates if the clothes they’re wearing are worth keeping or not. With a glowing finger she swipes them off the model anyways, stripping them of her brand… and their dignity

• Velvette marks the occasion with a kiss to your cheek, stained with black lipstick, and another posted picture with a clever caption

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Val invented jealousy

• He handles it as well as everyone expects

• It’s not limited to you, either! Business partners, employees, friends (if he has any left), play things, he’ll be up and arms about anything that belongs to him. There’s only one way to cut the cord tethered to him, and he’s always the one to decide how and when

• Val may have a lot of toys but you’re not one of them. You’re special— precious, actually!

• He has tabs on you at all times. Tracker in your phone, jewelry with his name on it, a bodyguard if he’s feeling particularly paranoid that day!

• Val also loves showing you off. Love bites are his favorite mark of ownership, he’ll show off wherever is most recent so be prepared to swat his hands away. Everyone can look, but only he can touch. He has four hands, one of them is on you at all times in public

• No one should manage to get in spitting distance of you— but if somehow they did and had the gall to talk to you… he’ll break their nose on the spot. He’d make quicker work with a gun, but then he’d get blood on you and he doesn’t want that

• “You’re so fuckin’ hot tonight, baby, look how clumsy you’ve made this idiot!” Val cackles, poorly masking his rage, “Seriously, I think you’re trying to get me riled up.” You open your mouth to deny it but he laughs again, carefully pulling you closer with both pairs of arms, “I’m only teasing!”

• Looming over you, Val shoots said idiot a murderous glare that gives them a five second head start. He’s yet to lose this game of chase. He always returns, clean as a crappy soap ad, to shower you in gifts in lieu of an apology for disappearing

[clockwayswrites]

Cosmas Coffee Break

“Thanks for the excuse to take a break,” Danny said. He had his hands wrapped around his coffee cup, soaking in the warmth.

“I hope you don’t actually need the excuse. I know we try not to work anyone that hard,” Bruce said with a chuckle, though the words were sincere.

“Don’t worry, Lucius would be on me if I wasn’t getting enough rest. He’s done it before and I’m sure that he’ll do it again,” Danny said with a smile. “I am pushing it just a little right now, but I really am behind with parental leave Lucius made me take.”

“Parental leave?” Bruce asked, surprised despite himself. While all the Wayne Enterprises employees went through a background check, Bruce tried to stay out of digging deeper into them. In Danny’s case, Lucius trusted Danny and that was enough for Bruce. Lucius was reliable like that.

And would have Bruce’s head if he chased off his favorite employee by snooping.

Still, Bruce couldn’t help but notice the things he did and Danny wore no jewelry beyond a WE smart watch. The only bends in his fingers were from overuse of a pencil and a rather old break typical of teenage sports or antics.

Danny ducked his head bashfully and for some reason Bruce felt just a little disappointed.

“I adopted recently and very, very suddenly,” Danny said as he scratched at the back of his neck. “I think that maybe might be why Lucius actually kicked us out to go get coffee. One kid is overwhelming enough, I don’t know you did it several times.”

“That bad?”

“What? No, Cos is wonderful. I don’t regret my decision for a moment,” Danny corrected quickly. “I just… it really changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Bruce said, perhaps a little wistfully. “When Dick, my oldest, first came to live with us— well, let’s just say I was very lucky to have Alfred around to keep setting me straight because I had no damn clue what to do with a very active, very charismatic, and very traumatized boy suddenly being my responsibility.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Superbat hcs?

They're constantly referring to each other as "colleagues" even after all this time

One time Bruce comes home brooding more than usual and when asked he's like "I got into a disagreement with someone at the office"

Or Clark triple-checking that his suit and tie look right because he doesn't wanna embarrass himself at a work dinner with Bruce

Clark randomly laughs in the middle of the day at the Daily Planet because of something his co-worker from his second job sent him (it was a picture of Ace)

Bruce randomly buys gifts for Clark for "networking purposes," like Belgian chocolate or a diamond watch band

When Clark is stressed over a deadline Bruce will talk him through it over the phone because that's what colleagues do for each other

When other people ask where they see themselves in 10 years they always mention wanting to be each other's "business partners"

They once shared the same bed at a hotel on a "business trip" because getting two different ones would "go over the budget"

After a particularly bad Justice League mission, Bruce and Clark go for a long stroll together to "regroup" and "think up a new strategy"

They also coordinate Wayne Enterprises and Daily Planet lunch breaks so Clark can fly over to Gotham with the pie that Ma specifically made for Bruce

The Justice League does a holiday gift swap and Diana rigs it so Bruce and Clark get each other, but it backfires on her when they keep separately coming to her for advice as they're panicking about picking the right present

Bruce saved Clark in his contacts as "Colleague <3" and claims the heart is to differentiate him from all the other JL members and WE employees

One time Dick asked Bruce where he was going and Bruce said it was another work meeting with Clark, and Dick was like, "A work meeting in a horse-drawn carriage through the park?" To which Bruce said it was being paid for by Wayne Enterprises and therefore was business-related

Their families got together on Kent Farm for a summer barbecue after they said they had some "big news" to share, which turned out to be the merger between Wayne Enterprises and the Daily Planet. More than one people were left disappointed but Bruce and Clark couldn't figure out why

Clark flies over to Gotham in the mornings to bring Bruce coffee from a place they both like in exchange for Alfred's breakfast pastries

When Bruce is in Metropolis, he sneaks into Clark's office and waits until Clark gets back

Wayne Enterprises branches into the jewelry industry and Bruce gets himself and Clark matching gold rings as part of the "product testing" procedure

On slow patrol nights, they'll meet up on a random rooftop and just talk because "regular updates are vital to business communication"

They practiced how to waltz with each other so they look good in front of others at an upcoming gala

The other heroes have a running bet on how long until they get together, and of course Diana is in the lead

[peepdraws]

A portrait of Janet Lynn Drake.

Mrs. Drake in attendance of Wayne Enterprise’ charity auction gala. In addition to the paintings and artifacts the couple auctioned, Mrs. Drake auctioned off the jewelry set pictured.

Mrs. Drake's obituary.

@jane-lynndrake-t

[marzipanandminutiae]

Hi, I want to talk to you abou this image:

This illustration is titled "black slave women of different african nations". I find the combination of traditional African elements such as face-paint, necklaces and what appears to be ritual scarification and Western fashion worn by these women incredibly striking, but what made my jaw drop is the idea that these women are slaves.

While I am aware that maids and other lower-class women were sometimes able to access fancy clothing hand-me-downs from their employers, I had expected the nature of slavery in the Americas to make it impossible for enslaved black women to do the same.

So, this is a drawing. Whether it's drawn from life or not, I don't know, but the artist could easily have staged these women in fashionable (early 19th century) dresses or made the outfits up from their imagination. That being said, enslaved women absolutely did attempt to have "best" clothing and follow the fashions when they became aware of them.

Humans are human, no matter the circumstances. You can't crush that drive for beauty out of people, however you oppress them.

I know a bit more about fashion and later generations of Black women enslaved in the southeastern US, after scarification and such had been stripped out of their culture, but that certainly bears out this idea of treasuring beauty and trying to make space for fine clothing in their lives. Church services, weddings, and holidays like Christmas were often occasions for enslaved women to wear the best outfits they had, along with any jewelry or other finery they had managed to make or inherit. Some enslavers did give "favorite" people they held in bondage cloth, castoff clothes, cheap jewelry, lace, etc. At other times, the enslaved people cleverly made things themselves- one WPA Former Slave Interview in the 1930s, which I cannot find again for the life of me, featured an elderly man recalling that he once made hoop skirts from dried grapevine with an enterprising friend, selling them to the women in his community for a nickel (many enslaved people earned small amounts of money taking side jobs outside of their punishing work schedule).

Obviously such clothes could not be worn while working, but like I said, there WERE occasions of joy and celebration even in the harshness of slavery. The tradition of Black women wearing elaborate hats to church may in part originate from enslaved women (and their free but economically disempowered sisters) taking advantage of a rare chance for self-expression and elegance.

(Of course there were also less positive instances in which an enslaved woman might have fine clothing, namely sex trafficking, or habitual rape by an enslaver who then attempted to compensate her for this heinous crime with presents. New Orleans' infamous "fancy girl" market is enough to turn your stomach if you look it up.)

After the Civil War, some white commentators were incensed to see Black women in fashionable attire walking the streets where they'd once been enslaved. For these women, it acted as a visible and tangible way of asserting their freedom- as their ancestors despite wringing what happiness they could from life -had been unable to.

If anyone has more to add on this, please chime in! Enslaved women's fashion specifically is not my area of research, so I welcome input from people who study this more extensively. Cheyney McKnight is a wonderful source on enslaved people's lives in general, and a historical costumer herself.

[vintagetvstars]

Jamie Farr Vs. Scott Bakula

Propaganda

Jamie Farr - (M*A*S*H) - the way he looks in a dress and the way he was out there doing it and defending it every time someone tried to use it against him, and that when he did stop wearing dresses on mash that it was His choice to but he did keep wearing some bits of jewelry. also straight up just in love with his profile hes one of the first people i remember seeing on tv and being like oh MY nose is like that too so big win for the nose enjoyer community :)

Scott Bakula - (Quantum Leap, Star Trek: Enterprise (Seasons 1-3)) - Idk how to even explain how hot Scott Bakula is as Dr. Sam Beckett in Quantum Leap. Sam is the ultimate hot nerd - a genius with six doctorates, who invents a way to time travel, he's selfless and pure of heart, and will unhesitatingly punch bigots in the face when necessary. He also does a lot of singing and dancing (Bakula is a Tony nominated musical theatre actor) and takes off his shirt A LOT. He kind of looks like just some guy in still photos, but watch him in an episode, and trust me, you'll understand.

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Jamie Farr:

Scott Bakula:

CW: Text propaganda briefly talks about an episode involving sexual assault

look. the broad spectrum of issues covered in quantum leap with a SHOCKING amount of sincerity and good balance of comedy with serious topics should be able to speak for itself here. to me its a very Classic scifi/speculative fiction model of reflection on social issues - episodes where sam is put through minority group experiences or put in social positions of difficulty (in particular, the episode in which hes in the body of a teen girl thats been raped by a local Golden Boy always comes to mind. for ostensibly a comedy show, they took big serious swings and that helps it hold up still.) and yes he absolutely rocked the dresses they tailored for him. guy that is hot bc hes not afraid to get serious Or sillay. one fun fact i have about him is that his contract for enterprise specified that they had to be done filming every day by a certain time so that he could go have dinner at home, he made the studio give him time to spend with his family bc when they filmed quantum leap he would be away months at a time. also hes a triple threat he has stage experience too <3

[oldschoolfrp]

Fantasy-themed silver and helenite jewelry from the 1980s by Monica Roi Saxon / MRS Sunshine Enterprises Inc (ad in Dragon magazine #62, June 1982).  Helenite is an artificial glass made by fusing ash from the 1980 Mount St Helens eruption.

D&D inspiration:  Unique gems might be found in volcanic areas, in locations that have been blasted by a dragon’s breath, or around portals to the Elemental Plane of Fire.

[radiantgeminiwares]

Last but not least in my Star Trek TOS series of rings is The Enterprise. I used grey opal and real meteorite shavings in this one! Come check it out.

www.radiantgeminirings.bigcartel.com

[lunaekalenda]

Kento Nanami is well-known for being the head of the most important business of Tokyo. A cold, strict, workaholic man who seems angry to the world. The newspapers talk about him and the media roast his attitude. Although he's handsome, well-ported and polite in extreme, all the social media influencers that like to rant about him as a way to earn money ask the same question:

Who would be able to date the Cold King?

"Who would be able to date? Goddess, I'm not a robot." Kento sighs, taking both cups of steamy tea from the kitchen counter and walking towards the couch. You put the phone down, receiving the tea and a forehead kiss from your husband as he surrounds the sofa to sit by your side, arm opening for you as you snuggle up against his body.

"It's true that you barely smile on pics or meetings" You agree with the post, making your man sigh and drink a long sip.

"Most of the times I don't even wanna be there." He says. He puts his cup on the coffee table, that shines with the reflections of flames, consuming wood on the built-in fireplace. You copy his movements, only to be able to hug your husband with both arms, leaving a kiss on the spot his unbuttoned shirt leaves naked near his chest. He sighs, his hand caressing up and down your back, fingertips dancing on your hips and back to your waist.

"Hm? You don't? Do you have better places to be at?" you tease him. His hands grip your waist stronger, taking your body to his lap, making you laugh.

"So funny, my love." he murmurs. Your legs rest on both sides of his, and his eyes and hand travel to the anklet he bought for you less than a month ago. Embodied with tiny pearls and a "K" in a large fan of colored gems. His lips curve on a smile. "This might be the cheapest jewelry piece I have ever bought you, and still, you don't take it off." You smile at him too, your hands on his cheeks, your thumb caressing his bottom lip sweetly.

"Maybe because it has your letter." you whisper. Kento smiles widely. You know that anklet wasn't cheap. As any other thing he ever bought for you. "And, really, I don't need all those gifts." His lips press a chaste kiss on your thumb, his hands going back to their original position on your waist.

"If I work non-stop and I can't gift my most loved one everything they deserve, does it even worth all the work?" You hit his shoulder slowly, making him laugh. "You deserve a lot more, my love. I'm sad I'm unable to give you everything." His right hand travels up to yours, taking the one you placed near his lips, tangling his fingers with yours before kissing the back of your hand. Your wedding ring shines when he places your hands on the couch.

You don't like public attention, and Kento doesn't want to expose you to the shitty world of gossip magazines. That's why he has paid so many paparazzis so they don't follow him, how his trips and dates are always invisible to everyone, how his enterprise has bought the silence of almost all the newspapers and magazines, but still, some of them are hungry for an exclusive.

His lips touch yours softly, just a caress, before he leaves a peck on them. None of you move for a second when he parts, before you find him smiling back at you. "I love you." He whispers. You peck his lips this time. "I love you too."

Time passes by while you spend the evening by his side on the couch, in front of the fireplace, head resting on his thighs while his hands caress your body. Your expensive pajama, another of his gifts, shows under the velvety blanket he put on top of your body half an hour ago. He keeps reading his book, humming for himself and taking notes on the margins while he reads, but taking his hand back to your body once he's done.

"Love, what do you wanna dinner?" he asks, closing the book and directing all his attention towards you. "Should we cook? Do you want to have delivery?"

"We have all the time of the world. And your food is better than any delivery so... Could my perfect, handsome, talented husband move the action towards the kitchen?" You whisper. Kento rolls his eyes before slapping your ass jokingly. Then, he stands up, taking the blanket away from your body before standing up, taking your body sweetly against his. Your arms get tangled on his neck as he lifts you easily, your lips finding his as he walks towards the kitchen, blindly walking around your exclusive apartment, reflecting yourselves in the clean marble floors and the huge windows that show a panoramic of Tokyo. Kento easily finds the kitchen, leaving you on the counter, stealing another kiss from you when he parts with a smirk.

"Time to cook, my love."

You pout towards him. After all, he's the one that took private classes with that five-star chef to impress you on your very first date, so his cooking always taste like a piece of heaven.

"Can't I just sit and look how you do? You look really really hot while cooking, hm?" Kento smiles again, rolling his sleeves up as he gets close, a brow raised in a silent joke. "And I'll make sure to reward you for your amazing work." His lips curve in a side smile when he pecks yours again, unable to let you go, in need to press his lips against you until he needs air.

"I'll be waiting for that reward."

"We'll see if the cooking deserves it." You tease. He points at you with a wood spoon before talking.

"It will, my love. Of course it will."

a little drabble for @dreamcastgirl99 <3 i hope you like it!

[sunnetherlands]

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[milla984]

And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants. 

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked. 

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”  

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock. 

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit. 

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.” 

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.” 

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on. 

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.” 

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”  

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure. 

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”  

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you. 

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke. 

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name. 

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member. 

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

���When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud. 

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—” 

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering. 

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you. 

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you. 

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.  

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do. 

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««