Pinned
Reblogged
Rip Megan Kane you would’ve loved Lana del Rey
I’m a dragon you’re a whore don’t even know what you’re good for
Reblogged reidgif
unless they specifically asked, you don’t get to tell a fanfic writer you think they mischaracterized the character by the way. because the second someone writes a fanfic about a character, that character becomes the writer’s own version of the character. canon is only a suggestion, but whether or not an author will follow it / how much of canon an author will take is entirely up to them. you don’t get to stick your nose in their world and tell them “hey this is not to my liking therefore I think you’re doing it wrong” when you can simply leave quietly and move on to something else you may enjoy
Reblogged
MDNI
i’m so obsessed with the idea of s1 spencer being this nerd outwardly, dressed in sweaters and pants ironed and pressed with a crease running down his legs; the image of an everlasting virgin who’d blow his load if a pretty person even looked his way, but being the exact opposite— no one could even fathom the way he handles you. no one could ever imagine the words that come out of his mouth when he’s pretty between your legs, hands that are always caressing the pages of a book caressing you instead, sliding over your body boldly and surely.
they don’t see the purple-black marks littering your chest and stomach. they don’t notice your shifting, trying your hardest to focus on the present task when all you can feel and think about is the dull tenderness of your ass pressed red from spencer’s hands last night, how he’d grabbed and gripped handfulls of you while you whimpered into his neck.
tinted windows hide his cock sitting deep on slow days, you spread wide on his lap and the both of you oozing down onto the car seats, cleaning fee be damned. who’d know the eyes that survey any and everything are the ones you stare into as he urges you to ride him in his driver’s seat? who’d think, from the way he looks with his hair slicked-back and a sweater that he’s swimming in, that he could do what he can?
HEY SEE I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE OBSESSED WITH THE THOUGHT OF EARLY SEASONS SPENCER FUCKING AND BEING GOOD AT IT
HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING!!!! (i say as they drag me to the white room)
EXACTLYYYYY anons stop pathologizing why I write so much early seasons smut pls LET THAT NERD FUCK
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Hi! May I please have an untoasted blueberry bagel? With butter please💗 I’ll pay with virtual hugs and kisses xoxo.
order #6 | see my event here
Spencer isn't sure where he got it from. His innate ability to handle kids, that is. Anyone’s children, but particularly his own. They’re too much like him. They have too many questions, wonder about too many things, and are incredibly difficult to appease with a simple response.
The kitchen table is littered in things. Crayons and papers and half eaten apple slices, the usual things, but now paper towels and tissues dotted in evidence of Charlotte’s first lost tooth.
She's already gotten through the worst of it. The panic that is experiencing your first tooth the fall is already being melted away by all the other things this means for her.
“The tooth fairy?”
Tear streaked cheeks stretch into ones that smile, and Spencer is reminded again of just how much he loves being a parent.
“Yeah,” he nods, still trying to clean her face of tears and a runny nose. “When you lose a tooth, the tooth fairy will come and… pay you for your tooth.”
“Today?” She beams.
“Tonight. While you're sleeping.” He adds the tissue to the pile collecting on the table.
“I can't see her?”
“No, baby. But we will leave your tooth under your pillow–maybe not. That's a hazard. We can leave directors for the tooth fairy under your pillow, and then-”
“What does she do with the teeth?”
His eyes narrow for a moment, trying to think of a logical explanation. When he realizes there isn't, he knows this will be a losing battle.
“I don't know… It’s just her job. It's a secret.”
Charlotte thinks about this, and much to his dismay, it's not enough of an answer.
“How much money do I get for them?” She asks.
“A few dollars, maybe,” he tries. “And you can save them and buy a toy soon.”
“Ten dollars?” She asks. “That’s my tooth, daddy. And I want ten dollars.”
Spencer huffs to himself, and takes it all in one last time.
“I’m sure we can make that happen, baby. Finish your snack.”
Dad Reid my love🫶🏽
Reblogged esote-rika
the spirit is unwilling and the flesh it feels not so good also
Reblogged
❀ peak bloom ❀
spencer reid x reader
description: spencer and reader are enjoying cherry blossom season
word count: 1.2 k
warnings: none really, except this is SUPER self-indulgent, also maybe dumb tourists?
author's note: first (posted) fic in honor of cherry blossom season! let’s see how this goes!
He's back on a rare day off after spending nine days on a brutal case in Oregon. Luckily, it's the middle of a weekday, so the crowds aren't as large as they would have been if we had gone during the weekend. You are both walking hand-in-hand along the Tidal Basin. The trees have finally bloomed, the flowers of the cherry blossoms stretching above, their petals rustling in the wind coming off the river.
It's not your first year going to see the cherry blossoms, but it is the first time Spencer wasn't away on a case during peak bloom. You are almost skipping alongside him, giddy to have the chance to be together and enjoy the beginning of spring.
"Did you know that peak bloom is when 70% of the trees' buds have opened?" Spencer asks. You smile, listening to Spencer talk is one of your favorite things to do.
"No, I didn't know that."
"Once they are opened, the blossoms usually last only 7-10 days. However, it is usually dependent on weather conditions. For example, the cold snap that we are experiencing right now," he adjusts the purple scarf around his neck, "will help maintain the integrity of the blossoms, giving us a few additional days of the trees in bloom."
He continues, "The first cherry blossom trees were proposed by a member of the National Geographic Society to Helen "Nellie" Taft, President Taft's wife. After the two decided to plant the trees along the Basin, a Japanese consul in visiting D.C. donated approximately 2,000 trees."
You hum, taking in the trees.
"Unfortunately, when the trees arrived in 1910, the Department of Agriculture discovered they were infested with insects. Taft had to make the tough decision to burn all the trees to prevent further infestation."
"Oh no," you respond, upset over the thought of such beautiful trees being burned. "That's almost as sad as when they removed Stumpy last year! He was such an iconic tree."
He glances at you and your reaction, squeezing your hand. "It's okay. Shortly thereafter, the mayor of Tokyo donated 3,020 trees to make up for the loss as a symbol of friendship between the two countries. First Lady Taft and the Japanese ambassador's wife planted the first two saplings right over there. " He points to a plaque around the bend. "Some of these trees are over 100 years old."
You smile up at him. "Well, I'm glad it all worked out, it's one of my favorite times of the year. However, I wish the trees were as pink as they look in all those Instagram influencer pictures."
He chuckles. "I know. Pink is one of your favorite colors. But it's actually a misconception that all cherry blossom trees are pink. This particular kind of tree, the Yoshino cherry, actually produces almost white blooms."
As he is talking, you take out your old Polaroid camera and quickly snap a photo of him while he is talking.
"Hey!" he exclaims, not expecting to have his picture taken.
"Sorry! You just look so cute with the blossoms behind you. Don't be mad at me," you grin sheepishly.
He smiles back, not a trace of malice in his eyes. "Well, you can make it up to me by letting me take a picture of you. That way we can both have one."
Even though you hate having your photo taken, you shrug, "It's only fair."
He takes your camera, gently holding it, even though it's over a decade old. You go sit on the edge of the sidewalk, letting your feet dangle over the edge of the water, the Jefferson Memorial positioned in the distance.
You notice him struggling with the camera. You try to help him through the throng of people passing between you, "Just press the button on the front, there, and rotate the lens till the little sun lights up. Then, look through the viewfinder and press the round upper button once you are ready." His ineptitude with technology makes you giggle a little.
He fiddles with the camera for a couple of seconds. "Okay, I think I got it," he says, holding up the camera.
You smile, feeling exposed, as a few tourists graciously stop to allow him to take the photo. After what feels like ages, a flash finally goes off. You hop up quickly, thanking a mother barely holding back a pair of toddlers from photobombing you.
She smiles at you and Spencer, "You two make such a cute couple."
You grin back, "Thank you, I think so, too."
Spencer blushes, easily turning pinker than the trees. He stands there awkwardly, holding the camera and the Polaroid out to you.
You take the image from his hands, watching it develop. "Wow, smart and a great photographer. Is there anything you can't do?"
He shakes his head. "You are totally biased." He points to the corner of the picture. "I think that smudge is my finger."
"Well, that's your signature. Makes it more valuable."
He shakes his head smiling, "Whatever you say."
You two walk for a little while longer, taking a break to feed the handful of ducks swimming around. You watch the tourists take photos around you, getting dangerously close to the river's edge.
"Hey Spence, how many people do you think fall into the Potomac every cherry blossom season?"
He gives you a perplexed look, "Hm, I'm actually not sure."
You gasp, "What?! There's a statistic that the Spencer Reid doesn't know!"
"Well, that’s not exactly a statistic that comes up in government reports."
You throw another handful of oats to the ducks, "But is got to be at least five."
"Maybe... If I extrapolate using data that 1.6 million people came to D.C. last year to see the cherry blossoms, plus the number of DMV residents that-"
"Just say yes, Spence."
"Well, uh yes, it is probably at least five," he concedes as you brush crumbs from your hands.
A gust of wind blows through the trees, shaking petals loose like a cloud of pink-white snow. You look around in awe, the scenery feeling like a scene in a movie. But Spencer can only look at you, almost oblivious to the beauty around him. Suddenly, he grabs your face between your hands, causing you to gasp.
"You have something," he whispers as he concentrates on gently brushing your hair, carefully pinching a petal between his fingers. He holds it up to you, "Make a wish?"
You squeeze your eyes close, thinking hard, before opening them and blowing the petal away. You both spend the next few seconds grinning at each other like idiots before some unaware tourists bumps into you, bringing you back to reality. You grab his hand and begin the long trek back towards the nearest Metro station.
"You wanna know what I wished for?" you ask him.
"What? No, you can't tell me! Then your wish won't come true.”
You laugh, giving his shoulder a little nudge. "You're too superstitious, Spence."
"Well, my superstitions and mismatched socks have kept me alive so far, thank you very much."
"Fair point. But my wish was only that we can do this every year for the next 100 years."
He bends down to kiss your head, "Well, that's a wish I'm sure I can make come true."
thank you so much for reading!
I’m missing Spencer but otherwise im all set for sakura season!
Reblogged
no plan
"my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand / it's how i know, now, that you understand... there's no plan, there's no race to be run / the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun"
life pleasure's are best enjoyed slowly. also, you really like kissing spencer.
warnings and notes there’s like two running themes here, my first time writing cowgirl yayyy, fingering, so sappy so much love, unprotected sex, “girl” pet names, spencer’s mouth….. he needs a warning yes he does.
mcon’s note hi guys so i actually started this on august 30th. this is the longest thing i’ve written and finished and posted in a long time so i’m very happy i was able to do this. enjoy pls enjoy enjoy. title from no plan by goatzier hozier. not proofread y'all know i don't do that. 3.8k words <3
Sunlight fades through the window, lighting stripes of fairy dust and pale yellow through the room.
“Spencer,” you whine, dropping your phone somewhere in the covers.
“Yeah?” He responds. It’s light and airy. He loves you.
“I miss you.”
“I’m right here, angel,” he laughs, dog-earring the page of his book and tossing it onto his nightstand.
I need hiiim