#spencers little things

[hardrockshrimp]

Tumblr gets to see the Jack Delroy doll before the gram does :^]

[soupforsoup]

One thing about Eliot is he's gonna go so in on a grift. A wedding caterer? Get the fuck outta his way he's got two hundred guests to cook for and these canapes aren't gonna plate themselves. A baseball player? Fuck the con he gets a damn sandwich named after him. A supermarket worker? He's doing his full day of work AND THEN starting a union uprising first chance he gets. Sophie is "the grifter" but Eliot is the one who can match and beat her freak for commiting to a character so hard it becomes your new personality for the next week

[grinchwrapsupreme]

shawn's deep trust of lassiter keeps catching me so off-guard like when he's held captive and lassie and henry both turn up he tries to yell "carlton" not "dad" and when he sees a guy with a gun come into the restaurant he goes straight for lassie and keeps trying to get his attention instead of literally any of the other dozens of cops in the room with them and when he's telling someone to call the police he tells them to ask for lassiter, not jules, not vick, lassiter. like he spends all his time provoking lassie but the second there's danger there's literally no one else he trusts more

[xoxohannas-world]

the teenagehood we were promised

[sincerelybubbles]

Spencer holds your hand while you argue.

"Physical connection with a partner, especially during tense moments, is proven to aid in communication and connection."

It's something you found odd at first - annoyed, you tried to shrug him off, but he persisted, fingers clutching yours and dipping his head to hold eye contact. Now, though, you appreciate the habit.

"You have to trust me to do my job," you're saying, one hand linked in his and the other tapping along his forearm. "I'm the exact type the unsub is looking for. Emily will be right beside me, she'll have her gun-"

"But you won't," Spencer interrupts, squeezing your fingers and avoiding your eye.

The connection reminds you that he's simply concerned for your safety, not doubting your ability to do your job. Still, annoyance flares in your chest and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"He's looking for women he finds attractive - women with my eye color, my weight, my height, my hair color. He's got military background, he'll notice if I'm armed."

"He'll notice if you're wearing your vest, too," Spencer argues, nostrils flaring.

You both know that this argument is pointless. You're not going to say no to Hotch's assignment and it's been cleared by him already. Spencer doesn't have the rank to outvote him. Still, it's important to you that he understands, that he's comfortable, that he trusts you.

You keep holding his hand, returning his squeeze, and massaging his other forearm. You're in a small office in the small-town sheriff's office the team set up in. You can smell the sour dust in the air and the Texas heat causes sweat to gather on your forehead.

"Love, Emily will be right there. Morgan will be in the bar, too, and Hotch and Rossi will be outside. They're not going to let anything happen."

"I don't like it," Spencer says, voice firm. Compromise isn't clear - you can't say no, he doesn't want you to say yes.

Despite your best efforts, you sigh. Truly, you're just proud of yourself for not letting the eye-roll escape. You kind of think you deserve a reward for the effort.

You want to tell him that he doesn't really have a say in any of this. You're leaving in twenty minutes to get ready with Emily and JJ. An hour after that, you'll be in a bar pretending to sip a vodka cranberry and waiting for your unsub to hit on you.

Instead, you lean forward to catch Spencer in a hug, untangling your hands and looping your arms around his neck. "I know."

You meet him in a soft kiss, brief because of the setting. It's the best comfort you can offer him.

He sighs softly against your forehead when you pull away, hugging you tight.

"I'll be there too. Outside with Hotch and Rossi. I don't care where Hotch wants me."

"Okay," you whisper into his shoulder. Despite how high-strung you are considering the circumstances, the hug is calming you down, rapidly slowing your heartbeat.

He's right, as always -- the physical connection has you calmer instantly.

[elusivedew]

golden.

✧ synopsis ⤐ spencer is gentle, even in the darkest hours of the night.

✧ contains ⤐ several references to sex, this is all about aftercare. post-prison spence except I haven't gotten that far yet so don't mind any inaccuracies, I just thought he deserves something nice ♡ w.c ~ 1.3k

Your muscles ache. It's a low pleasant hum reverberating through your body, similar to the feeling after a long strenuous day, but nowhere as exhausting. Your heart is still pounding in your chest like an uncontrolled feeling, but it feels so full.

Spencer, the culprit in this story, shifts beside you to pull the covers over your exposed body. He’s gentle and tentative, like he always is, especially after nights like this. It’s like he's apologizing for defiling you the way he does, always concerned about going too far or making you feel uncomfortable. He looks down at you with familiar, warm hazel eyes, and you wonder how he could ever do any of those things.

He brings you closer, an arm coming around your waist to pull you against him. You move to lay on his bare shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact soothing all your stimulated neurons. While you’re slowly coming back to earth, still slightly starry-eyed, you listen to the sound of his heartbeats. You count them, memorize them, get to know him through the organ behind the flesh. It’s so serene that you almost doze off, but Spencer’s raspy voice shakes you awake. 

“Angel.”

You hum, unmoving and consumed by the visions in your head. 

He rubs your shoulder, willing you back to the present. You move to look up at him, and his smile is so sweet that you almost can’t believe he’s the same guy from a few minutes ago. But, then again, no one who knows Spencer would expect him to be so skilled at stealing your breath right out of your body. 

That’s something that no one else will experience with him now that you’re here. You smile, feeling proud and territorial. 

“What are you smiling about?” He leans down and kisses you, you want to ask for more but you’re spent. 

“Nothing,” you whisper against his lips, “Just the fact that you're all mine.” 

He grins, wide and boyish, and you wish his face would glow like that all the time. His flushed face and messed up hair, both being your handiwork, make your heart feel like it's about to burst right out of your chest. Despite just getting your fill of him, you wish you could eat him up right now. 

“Can’t argue with that”, his eyes twinkle playfully, “we still have to get you cleaned up before you can go to bed.” 

You grunt, “god, not again.”

“I’m not letting you go to sleep like that, and you know you’re risking a UTI if you don’t pee before you knock out. It’s essential for a pleasant experience that you wash up properly after, do you know how much bodily fluid you’re covered in right now?” 

You frown, when he says it like that, it sounds really gross, but it’s what you get for being with a germaphobe.

“I hate this part.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear and plants a kiss on your forehead that smoothes your frown down, “I know you do. C’mon, I’ll help you up.” 

Getting up proves to be the easy part, getting up on your legs however, it wasn't as steady as you hoped it would be. When you're forced to sit down on the bed again because the pain pierces through your pelvis so suddenly it feels like getting electrocuted, Spencer looks concerned. 

“Cramps again? I really have to slow down next time.” 

You groan, “no, Spence, I've told you before it’s fine. Just means we had a little too much fun, and it's not a bad thing.” 

He nods hesitantly, “are you sure?” 

“Yeah I am, just,” you reach your arms out, “carry me?” 

His concern is quickly replaced by a bright smile, “gladly.”

Within a few minutes, you’re both out of the bedroom and in the bathtub. Spencer hates the bathtub. He hates sitting down to take a bath and always voices out his concerns about how counterproductive it is to soak in contaminated water. Knowing that he likes to remind you of that everytime you’re taking a bath, Spencer must be dead tired to just sit his naked butt down in the tub, but you’re not complaining. 

Because he’s the sweetest boy on earth, he helps you wash up first, getting all the spots you can’t reach yourself easily. When he’s lazily washing your hair, you decide it’s the perfect moment to start babbling about nonsense, sleep deprivation and bliss mixing together to jumble up all your coherent thoughts. 

“My favorite thing about you being away is when you come back.” 

“So there’s other good things about me being gone?” The smile is so clear in his voice. 

You turn around to scoff at him, “Spence, terrible time to be a smartass.” 

He grins, “it’s never a terrible time to be a smartass.”

It’s quiet for the rest of the bath, you let him clean you up because you can barely see anymore. It’s three in the morning and he came home around midnight. You were already tired by then, but you missed him too much to not take the chance to immediately take him to bed— it’s hard to resist your boyfriend when his hair is growing out again and he hasn’t shaved in 2 weeks.

When the bath is done, he dries you off and helps you get dressed. You’re distracted by his bare chest the whole time, watching the flexion of his arms when he puts a shirt over your head. Then you sit on the bed, observing as he gets dressed. After nearly three hours of touching him in every possible way, his body is still so mesmerizing to you. Nearly three years of being together and countless incidents of unholy experiences, and you still feel like you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“Are you done observing?”

You’re broken out of your lust-filled thoughts by the sound of his voice. Looking up at his face, you're met by a crooked smile that makes you slightly breathless. He walks over to the edge of the bed where you’re sitting, and you welcome him with open arms. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You grin, arms tightly secured around his waist. He runs his fingers through your hair, “you’ve never been a very good liar.” 

Your final step getting ready for bed is letting him braid your hair. You always ask him to do it for you because he’s magical with his hands, his braid always coming out perfectly in a way you could never manage. You’ve taught him a lot about how to care for your hair, and as he tentatively and gently crosses the strand to draw up his perfect braid, you can’t help but think about how good of a father he would be if you ever had a little girl. 

When all of that's done, there's nothing coming between you and the bed anymore. You curl up under the covers as he slips in beside you. You're both tired, from the long day and the long night, but the sense of bliss that comes over you is possibly the most satisfied you've ever been. 

You look at him, reaching out to trace the outline of his stubble. He leans into your touch eagerly while you admire him some more, feeling every small detail over his skin. You know he needs the tenderness just as much as you do, especially when he's had long days at work. You know all the monsters he sees at his job secretly haunt him, and you know that he feels hopeful every time he's in your arms— because the world doesn't have to end every time he has to confront cruelty, and there’s love and adoration out there that almost overpowers the poisonous hate.

You reach for his hands, kissing the calluses on his fingertips. You know holding his gun comes with heavy responsibility, a responsibility that’s made him so much tougher than he was when he first started. When you’re done planting a kiss on every fingertip, you kiss his lips one more time, because you love him and you want him to know it. He smiles into the kiss and you’re sure he does. 

The gold in his eyes is the last thing you see before falling asleep. 

[salembehindbars]

Teenagers bedrooms in shows are my greatest source of envy.

Aria Montgomery’s Room | Pretty Little Liars (2010)

Spencer Hastings’ Bedroom | Pretty Little Liars (2010)

Claire Brown’s Room | Aquamarine (2006)

Rory Gilmore's Bedroom | Gilmore Girls (2000)

[luthqrs]

“She never even made it off the table.” JENNIFER JAREAU in CRIMINAL MINDS 6x18 | 'Lauren'

[crsssie]

let's go gambling! - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Rossi, please?" You beg. "Reid's an incredible gambler. Also, I used to gamble in the military, so by technicality, I'm pretty good too. It's just 100k."

"I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Parump because of my card-counting ability." Spencer hums. "Also—"

"If you do the math, there's a way to guarantee when to raise and fold. P times N minus one where P is pot and N is number of players in the final round of betting. You can send us both in. Pass as a couple." You offer.

"Stop stealing my lines." Spencer pauses. "Pass as a couple?"

"Your fault for telling me all of this. I was hustling the hell out of my old friends last weekend. I won like, a hundred bucks." You give him a finger gun.

"Fine, fine. Try not to lose all of my money?" Rossi tries.

"Oh, David." You rest a hand on his shoulder. "I'm getting that million bucks whether or not they want me to. I'll pay you ten percent."

Rossi gives you a look that can only really mean that he doesn't quite believe you.

You play with Spencer. He's significantly better than you, and you learn how to count your cards in the meantime, watching him run through everything in his head, and grab his wrist when he reaches for the 8-ball charm, signal going off in your free hand as Hotch understands to move in.

"Sorry. He's got a bad habit of grabbing." You glance at the door, watching as Hotch moves in. The man stands up to run, but Spencer kicks from under the table as the man trips, and you try to grab him, but he's out the door before you can even grab anything.

"Can we keep Reid in there to keep gambling?" You raise a brow, staring at the chips on the table. "He's winning. I want the million."

"This is why we don't take you to Vegas." Hotch sighs. "We need you on sight. Your rifle's in the trunk..."

"Can we keep him there?"

Hotch sighs. "Reid, don't lose it all."

"Definitely won't."

"What do you say? A nice trip to Bora bora?" You wink on your way out.

"I always wanted to visit the British Library." He nods.

You shoot two bullets when you find the unsub. One to the clock to get it to stop turning, and a second to get the gun out of the unsub's hand last minute before he can count down. Hotch is on the unsub immediately, and you watch as he's dragged off, the clocks in the car covered and numbers missing from the plates.

You meet Spencer back in the hotel room, cheek pressed to his in greeting as he hums.

"So?"

"Rossi keeps his money."

"And?"

"Fifty thousand to the banks. They didn't catch me counting cards this time." He laughs when you gasp.

"What happened to the million?" You tug at your shirt, and Spencer hums as he helps you out of it.

"Didn't want to blow it."

"Fair." You stretch your arms. "So... London?"

"Savings."

You boo at Spencer, sighing. "And here I thought you were finally going to get me a nice little present."

"Oh, that wouldn't be here, honey." He hums. "Something nicer in DC."

"Like a house?"

"Not enough money for that."

"Fair point." You tap your chin. "Wouldn't a big diamond necklace look nice on me?"

"And where would you wear that?"

"Nowhere." You pinch his cheek, humming. "Just make sure you don't gamble it off when you think about it."

"Oh, I can't play poker anywhere." He laughs, forehead pressing to yours. "But don't worry. I'll be sure to get you something nice."

If anyone notices the new cufflinks on your jacket, no one says a thing.

[carm3n-carm3n]

mood rn

[marlenacantswim]

so is the sbpd's two-way-mirror setup just kinda shit and no one's realized, or can shawn spencer actually just. perceive things through two-way-mirrors? is the implication that his knowledge of lassiter's behavior is so complete, he's just able to predict his precise position and actions with perfect timing? this is never explained.

[hardrockshrimp]

Disposable camera pictures were developed!! Look at my little critter

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

2 months later…

Alexander: Happy Anniversary. Megan: They’re beautiful, thank you my love. Alexander: Are you about ready? Reservation is at 7. Megan: Almost, I just need five minutes.

Alexander: We’re off. Spencer, you’re in charge, be sure to keep these boys in line. Spencer: I will!

Asher: Ha! I am the undefeated champion!

Spencer: Until tonight.

Asher: Have I ever told you how cute you are when you concentrate like that? Atlas: Yes, now stop distracting me. Asher: I can’t help it. You look so seri—

Asher: Ahhhhahahaha!!!

Atlas: Oops.

Asher: You know whoever’s in charge has to make dinner, right? So, what are you making for us? Spencer: Hmm... Ice cream for me, and broccoli for you! Asher: Ooh yes! I love broccoli. We should add brussels sprouts too. Make sure you steam them so the whole house will smell like vegetables. Spencer: [giggles] Eww!

Atlas: How about I’m in charge and I’ll order pizza. Spencer: Can I still have ice cream? Atlas: Sure. After dinner. Spencer: Deal.

Spencer: When are your babies gonna get here? Atlas: Not for a while. Li isn’t due until January. Spencer: So, is Li going to be their mom? Asher: No, Li is just carrying them for us. Our babies don’t have a mom. Just two dads.

Spencer: Oh. Do the babies have names yet? Asher: One of them does. The girl is named Sadie. Spencer: Why doesn’t the boy have a name? Atlas: We haven’t found one we like yet.

Spencer: Can I help? Atlas: We’re open to suggestions, but no promises. Asher: Yeah, we gotta find one that feels right, y’know. Spencer: Well, you should make sure it starts with an ‘S’. Atlas: Why? Because your name starts with ‘S’? Spencer: No! Because Sadie starts with ‘S’. Your names both start with ‘A’ and the puppies’ names both start with ‘P’ so both the babies should start with ‘S’.

Asher: [considers] Sound logic. Atlas: Yeah. That narrows it down at least. Asher: ‘S’ name it is. Atlas: How about you brainstorm ‘S’ names while you get ready for bed. Spencer: Already? Atlas: Yep. Go on. Spencer: Fine. But there’s a kid in my class named Scott, and he’s mean. He made fun of my drawing in front of everyone, so you can’t name your baby Scott. Asher: Got it. It’s off the list. Now go.

Asher: Hey. You’re home early. Everything okay? Iris: Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day. Is Spencer in bed already? Atlas: Not yet. She’s getting ready now. Iris: Perfect. Thanks for watching her. Asher: No problem. We had fun.

Iris: Just so you know, I invited Ezra over for dinner tomorrow. Atlas: Why would you do that? Iris: Because he’s my boyfriend, and I want him to meet my family.

Atlas: [rolling his eyes] I don’t know what you see in him. I swear you have the worst taste in men. Iris: Not as bad as my brother.

Asher: Guys, seriously, can you not do this tonight? Iris: Whatever. You don’t have to join us for dinner if you don’t want to, but he is coming and it’s kind of a big deal for me, so please don’t ruin it. Atlas: I won’t. Trust me, I’ll stay as far away as possible. Iris: Perfect.

[bucker3911]

[xoxohannas-world]

i want to disappear mysteriously and have a missing poster with a pretty picture of me that forever haunts a small town

[bemytechnoboytoy]

happy girls are the prettiest