buckybarnesinabox

[buckybarnesinabox]

The hottest thing a man can do is be a awkward little nerd 

[buckybarnesinabox]

[insp]

[buckybarnesinabox]

“which trends should come back in 2025?” can i just do whatever the fuck

[buckybarnesinabox]

[buckybarnesinabox]

your intelligence means fucking nothing if youre devoid of empathy

[buckybarnesinabox]

can you write another kindergarten teacher!reader x spencer where he comes in as like a special guest to read to her students🥹 and then he stays to eat lunch with her

Story Time

Spencer Reid x Kindergarten Teacher Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: Spencer comes and reads to your students for storytime.

Content Warning: Maybe some spelling errors, but otherwise nothing. I actually love writing kindergarten teacher reader x Spencer!!! It makes me feel all warm and happy inside

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The buzz of the classroom feels electric today, like a thousand tiny bees flitting through the air. Your students can hardly stay in their seats, their excitement nearly bubbling over as you explain that you'll be having a very special guest joining you for storytime today.

Of course, they don't know who it is yet. That's the surprise.

"Miss Y/N, is it a prince?" asks Lily, her shiny brown eyes wide and hopeful.

"Or a pirate?" chimes in Jacob, swinging around an imaginary sword.

You smile and shake your head. "Not quite. But he is one of my favorite people, and I think you're all going to love him, too."

As if on cue, there's a light knock on the rainbow-painted door. Your stomach flips as you walk over to open it.

Standing there, with his ever-disheveled hair and a stack of children's books in his arms, is Spencer.

He's wearing one of his signature mismatched outfits that always sort of remind you of something an old man would wear—a brown cardigan over a cream colored shirt—and the way his eyes light up when he sees you makes your cheeks flush a little.

"Hi," he says softly, like you're the only two people in the room.

"Hi," you whisper back, before stepping aside to let him in.

The kids immediately erupt into whispers and giggles. Spencer shifts awkwardly under their gaze, but he smiles warmly as I introduce him.

"Everyone, this is Doctor Reid. He's a very smart friend of mine who knows a lot about books, so I thought he'd be the perfect person to read to us today!"

Spencer waves shyly. "Hi, everyone. You can call me Spencer if you want."

Lily raises her hand without hesitation. "Are you Miss Y/N's boyfriend? Are you married? Do you have any babies?"

Spencer's eyes widen, and you feel your face go hot—really, this is something you should have anticipated.

"Lily!" you laugh nervously, twiddling your thumbs. "That's not a question for storytime."

She shrugs, unapologetic. Spencer, bless him, just clears his throat as adjusts his grip on the books.

"I bought a few options," he says, holding them up like they're treasure. "We have The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Where the Wild Things Are, and The Day the Crayons Quit. Any favorites."

The room fills with an enthusiastic chorus of opinions, but Spencer handles it like a pro, tallying votes on the whiteboard until we have a winner: Where the Wild Things Are.

He settles into the big reading chair at the front of the room, his long legs awkwardly folded up beneath him, and adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

The kids gather on the carpet, leaning forward with rapt attention as he begins.

Spencer's voice is soft, each word carrying a rhythm that draws the kids—and you, despite the fact that you've already read this book countless times—into the story, though that might just be because you enjoy listening to his voice so much.

By the time he closes the book and sets it aside, the room erupts into cheers. "That was so cool!" Jacob shouts, jumping to his feet.

"Can you read another one?" Lily pleads, clasping her hands together and mustering up the best puppy eyes she can—she doesn't have to try very hard.

Five year olds. So easy to please.

Spencer glances at you, and you nod. "One more," you say. "Then it's lunchtime."

This time, he picks The Day the Crayons Quit, and the kids laugh hysterically at the sassy letters from the crayons.

Spencer even gets a short round of applause when he finished reading and closes the picture book, his cheeks pink as he smiles and thanks them.

"Okay, everyone," you announce, clapping your hands together. "Time to wash up for lunch!"

The kids scramble to line up at the sink, still chatting quietly with one another—partly about the stories, but mostly about how awesome Spencer is.

He stands by the reading chair, watching them with a mix of amusement and awe.

"You're a hit," you tease, stepping beside him.

"I think they like me more than you," he replies, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't get cocky," you say, nudging him gently.

As the kids settle at their tables with their lunches, you lead Spencer to your desk in the corner, where you've set up a couple of chairs. "So you're staying, right?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

"If you'll have me," he says, pulling out the chair across from yours.

Your desk is decorated with little figurines and gadgets, ranging from tiny animal toys blue-tacked down to the lid of a container, to a photo frame filled with pressed flowers, to a small collected of little painted rocks. It reminds Spencer a lot of Garcia's office. Colorful.

You hand him the sandwich you made for him earlier, and his eyebrows lift in surprise. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know," you say, ducking your head. "But I wanted to."

You eat quietly for a moment, the sound of the kids' laughter and chatter enough to fill the space around the both of you.

Spencer watches them with a small smile, and you can't help but admire the way he fits so seamlessly into your little world. Most people would get overwhelmed, being in a room with so many little children—and it just so happens that your boyfriend isn't one of those people.

How did you get so lucky?

"They're great," he says after a while.

"They are," you agree. "A handful, but great all the same."

He looks at you then, his gaze soft and searching. "I can see why you love this so much. And I can see why they love you so much."

Your breath catches, but before you can respond with something sappy that'll more than likely make you cry, Jacob bounds over to your desk.

"Miss Y/N, can Mister Spencer come back tomorrow?"

Spencer chuckles, glancing at me like he's looking for permission.

"We'll see," you say, ruffling Jacob's hair. "If he's not too busy saving the world, maybe he can visit again."

"Promise?" Jacob asks, directing the question at Spencer.

Spencer holds up his pinky, and Jacob eagerly hooks his own tiny pinky finger around it. "Promise," Spencer says.

As Jacob runs back to his table, Spencer leans toward you, his voice low and almost a little uncertain.

"When can we have one of our own?"

[buckybarnesinabox]

bucky has a disability??

he doesn’t have an arm.

[buckybarnesinabox]

Criminal Minds is funny because Hotch is living in a crime drama, and everyone else is in a workplace sitcom

[buckybarnesinabox]

straigbt up "under it" and by "it" well lets jusr say, my blankeys

[buckybarnesinabox]

Collecting

[buckybarnesinabox]

[buckybarnesinabox]

[buckybarnesinabox]

ok but like, hazelnut creamer? changes the game. do it. try it. please sir it will completely change your mind 🙂‍↕️

I love coffee.

just wanted to put that out there. no one asked, but i drink it black. sometimes a splash of milk if i'm feeling fancy.

i think my blood may be at least 20% caffeine.

[buckybarnesinabox]

sleepyhead

spencer reid x reader

summary: you wake up and spencer's home from a case

word count: 733

contains: spencer and reader sleep in the same bed, that yucky waking up groggy feeling, cutie spencer reid, more fluff sorry i apparently can't write anything besides that anymore, a few swears sorry that is entirely my fault, oh i imagined like s5 reid when i was writing but you could probably imagine any reid era :)

a/n: i'm starting to see this pattern in my reid fics and i think it's my brain's way of believing that he's just on a case and is going to come home to me soon lol

Your eyes squeeze shut. It isn’t even bright, the curtains are drawn with only a sliver of sunlight peeking through across the bed, but being awake feels so gross.

Still, you force them open a crack, cringing at how groggy you feel. You spare a glance at the nightstand, checking the alarm clock for the time–

The nightstand?

You suddenly feel very disoriented, and pat at your bedsheets in confusion as you try to recall the events of the night prior.

It had been late when you threw the popcorn package into the microwave, preparing to let yourself melt into the couch cushions for a movie marathon that you’d discovered while aimlessly channel surfing. Then you’d gotten a text, you’d thought it was from Spencer, but to your surprise, it was your friend– or rather, his coworker– Penelope Garcia. 

The team’s just wrapping things up, should be back later tonight!! XOXO 

You brought the bowl of popcorn into the living room, this time excited with the intention of seeing your boyfriend so soon.

And then what? The movie played and…

You must’ve fallen asleep, because you can’t remember anything after that. But that had been on the couch, so how the fuck did you end up in the bedroom?

Eyes suddenly wide with confused alarm, you turn your head to the side and wonder how in the world you happened to miss the sight of him right beside you.

Definitely knocked out, Spencer’s face is half buried in his pillow, his mouth agape ever so slightly. He’s on his side facing you, a hand outstretched in your direction and resting on your side, the weight just becoming apparent to you.

Your heart melts a little at the sight of him.

He looks so tired, too tired, you can see it in the bags under his eyes, but his being asleep graces him with a look of utter bliss and relaxation. He looks younger, separated from the horrors that you can’t even begin to imagine that he witnesses with his work.

You can’t help the hand that comes up to gently stroke his hair. It’s gotten so long, you realize, running your fingers through messy brown locks, tousled with a fresh case of bedhead.

You imagine him coming home, exhausted, seeing you passed out on the couch, a cold abandoned bowl of popcorn on the table across from you. He probably changed out of his work clothes before going to get you– you know he doesn’t like to wear them around the apartment. And then he picks you up and brings you to bed, so gently that you sleep through the whole thing. You’ve told him over and over and over again to wake you up when he comes home late, but he never ever does. He makes you sleep like you’re the sleep deprived one.

Ugh. Your handsome boy. 

The hand that was petting his hair comes down to hold his jaw, your thumb brushing the spot where his lip meets his cheek.

It doesn’t take much to wake him up, probably a force of habit from his work, you realize. Spencer blinks, brows furrowing. A low groan escapes him and then his eyes meet yours– his gaze softens.

“Hey,”

“Hi,” you whisper back. You feel guilty for waking him up, interrupting him from the sleep that you know he desperately needs, but still, you beam at him. “You’re home.”

“I’m home,” he nods.

“I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He shakes his head, pulling you closer. “No, no. I’m always happy to see you.”

You sigh almost in disbelief. How the fuck did you manage to land Spencer Reid as your boyfriend?

He digs his face into the pillow, slotting your head underneath his chin. “Five minutes?”

The part of you that wants to jump up and make breakfast for him is subsided, weakened by how lovey-dovey you are for Spencer. If he wants five more minutes, you’re giving him all the time in the world.

You suppress the giggle that threatens to escape you. You instead shut your eyes, muttering a soft I love you to him before curling into him, inhaling the familiar scent of him that sends butterflies to your stomach no matter how many times you smell him.

You think he’s passed out again already, but you feel a quick kiss to your hairline.

“I love you too.”

m.list | ysa's info

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[buckybarnesinabox]

i hate being the bigger person why cant i say why are you being mean to me and burst into tears dramatically

[buckybarnesinabox]

what do you mean elon musk did a nazi salute on live tv at the united states presidential inauguration twice and is now erasing the evidence off the internet by replacing the footage with the crowd cheering instead?

would be a shame if people reblogged this, wouldn’t it?