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you are alive on a planet with insects and whales and diatoms and mycelium networks and puppies and your human friends. literally so awesome to be a living thing
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got a crick in my neck and a frog in my throat and a chip on my shoulder and a stick up my ass and now you're gonna stand there puttin words in my mouth? haven't I been through enough?
“So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
-Gandalf, The Fellowship of the Ring: The Shadow of the Past, page 50.
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(5 times spencer lets reader touch him, and the 1 time he touches her first)
spencer reid x f!reader
(she/her pronouns used for reader-insert)
fluff
wc: 1819
title from: lover by taylor swift
1. It’s her first day at the BAU, and Hotch is introducing her to everyone on the team. Spencer immediately thinks she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Her smile is radiant, and her eyes seem to shimmer. He doesn’t even hear Hotch say her name.
She’s going down the row as Hotch says everyone’s name, giving each member a handshake with the loveliest smile on her face.
Spencer is rubbing his hands on his slacks to rid them of his nervous sweat. He doesn’t want to ruin his first impression with clammy hands.
When Hotch gets to Spencer, he says, “And this is Dr. Reid. He doesn’t really do-“
He’s cut off by Spencer returning her handshake. Aaron can count on one hand the number of times that he’s seen Spencer do this in all the time he’s known him.
Everyone is even more shocked when Spencer raises his other hand and encloses hers between both of his.
“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor.”
“Spencer, you can call me Spencer.”
2 She’s only been working at the BAU for a few weeks when Spencer scrambles into the bullpen 45 minutes late. He’s never late. He was awake until the early hours of the morning, too wrapped up in a new book to notice the time. When his alarm sounded at sunrise, he turned it off and accidentally fell back to sleep.
His hair is ruffled and his tie is crooked and his dress shirt isn’t all the way tucked in. Even his messenger bag is half open and on the brink of spilling papers everywhere. He feels so discombobulated, and he just knows that this is going to ruin his entire day.
She’s the first to see him. great. She’s so beautiful, and she’s seeing him as a sloppy mess.
“Hey, Spencer! You okay? We were worried about you.” He knows that she said we, and that means it wasn’t just her who was worried, but his heart feels warm at the thought of her missing him.
He nods and tells her, “Yeah, I overslept.” He’s embarrassed and shakes his head before ducking it down. He takes in his messy appearance and wishes he could start the whole day over.
She reaches out to him and carefully tightens and straightens his tie. She then reaches up to his collar and gently folds it over. He can feel himself blushing at the feeling of her fingertips brushing against his chest and then his neck.
She almost reaches down to the hem of his shirt before she whispers, “I’ll let you take care of that part,” while shyly giggling.
“Right, yes- Um… Thank you.”
“No problem, Spence.”
“Uh… does my hair look okay?” He dares to ask her, pointing up at his head.
She’s about to reach up to smooth some pieces down when Emily calls her over to speak to her.
“You look good, Spencer. You always do, don’t worry,” She smiles before she leaves him.
He’s left gazing after her as she treads towards Emily’s desk. He’s cursing Emily in his head for pulling her away from their moment together. He smooths his shirt down and tucks it in properly as he walks to his desk.
As he traverses through the bullpen, he just barely catches his name in the conversation she’s having with Emily.
“...Spencer doesn’t really like being touched. Something about the germs bothers him.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” Her brows furrow, “Thank you for telling me,” and she sadly smiles.
He really wants to curse at Emily, now.
3 Weeks go by before she touches him again. Spencer is sorely missing the day that she fixed his tie. He’s starting to consider coming into work with it crooked again to see if that can tempt her to fix it for him, again.
Luckily, he doesn’t have to do that or anything more extreme.
They’re inspecting a scene together, and he’s crouched down over some papers scattered all over the floor. A piece of his hair keeps falling in his eyes as he reads them, but he’s wearing gloves, so he can’t push it back properly. He keeps trying to use his air to blow it out of his eyeline, but it keeps falling back down.
She comes over and crouches next to him, “Need any help?”
He looks over at her and sees that she hasn’t put both of her gloves on yet – she has one on and is about to put on the other.
“Actually, could you help me with this?” He blows air at the piece of hair again and gestures toward it. He’s so proud of himself for asking her.
“Oh, are you sure?” She says as she reaches toward him with her bare hand, freezing mid-air.
I hate you, Emily, he thinks.
He nods with a shy smile, so she completes her movement and tucks the piece of hair back for him.
They have twin blushes on their cheeks as they look away from each other and focus back on the documents in front of them.
4 They’re packed into the backseat of an SUV, Spencer, her, and JJ, in that order.
She climbed into the backseat after him and before JJ, and pressed her entire side against him – their arms and legs completely fused together.
After JJ climbs in, he looks over to see if she’s also touching JJ like this, and they must have at least 6 inches of space between them.
He’s absolutely basking in the feeling of her body pressed against his. He can barely contain his smile.
She softly nudges her leg against his at a red light, so he’s absolutely sure that it wasn’t an accident or a result of the car jostling. He gets the confidence to nudge her leg back, and she looks over at him with a smile. He blushes and ducks his head down.
5 He gets a call in the middle of the workday about his mom's health declining. The center needs his consent for a new medication.
He’s sitting and crying in a random hallway with his knees to his chest. He never sees anyone near here, so he thinks he’s safe to do so, just for a little bit.
“Spence! There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
He looks up at her with red-rimmed eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.
She crouches down in front of him and places her hands on his knees, rubbing soft circles against him.
“Spence, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” A few more of his tears fall at the endearment.
He frantically wipes his tears away. He doesn’t want her to see him like this. “I’m okay, it’s just my mom… she’s sick.”
She wordlessly moves to sit next to him, and he feels guilty that she’s settling onto the cold, hard, dirty floor.
That is, until she wraps an arm behind him and starts rubbing his back. Her hand rubbing up and down his spine is the most comforting thing he’s ever felt.
He whispers, “She has schizophrenia and lives in a treatment facility.”
She shifts her arm to wrap across his shoulder, then pulls him in closer to her. She places a hand on his head and guides it to rest on her shoulder, soothingly rubbing circles with her thumb.
♡♥♡ He finds her outside of a local precinct, sitting on a bench. As he approaches, he sees her shoulders shaking. Without even thinking, he starts unraveling his scarf to put it around her neck. He’s not sure why she’s out here at 9 pm, but he surely doesn’t want her to be cold.
He stands in front of her with the scarf draped over his hands, ready to place it around her neck, when she looks up at him, and he sees tears streaming down her cheeks.
He’s immediately reminded of how caring she was to him when she found him in a similar position, and hopes he can take care of her half as well as she took care of him.
As he drapes the knit around her neck, she whispers, “I don’t really want to talk about it. Is that okay?”
“No-yes, I mean, of course.” He’s disappointed that she doesn’t want to confide in him, but he would never push her to talk when she doesn’t want to, so he accepts that her wearing his scarf is enough of a win.
He turns on his heel to walk back inside when she stops him, “Wait, um, would you mind just sitting with me?”
“Of course,” He immediately replies.
He lowers himself on the bench next to her and thinks about when they sat side-by-side in the SUV. He wonders if he should press his leg against hers or if it isn’t the right time. That was more of a silly thing that they did, and he doesn’t want her to think that he’s not taking her feelings seriously.
“Thank you, I’m sorry, this is kind of embarrassing.” She feebly says.
“No, no, you’re fine, don’t worry,” He really hopes that he’s being reassuring enough for her. He knows how to calm down unsubs and victims and his mother, but this feels like entirely new territory.
As they sit in silence, he looks down and sees her wringing her hands in her lap. His own fingers twitch as he debates what to do. Normally, he’d fill the silence with questions or facts or statistics.
He tentatively reaches over and places his hand over both of hers.
They don’t talk much, as she requested, and normally that would make Spencer uncomfortable. Typically, he tries to avoid silence and fills it with his rants and ramblings. He even avoids silence in his own head by constantly having a book or headphones in his bag available.
This is different, though. Just her presence makes him feel calm and comfortable.
Eventually, she pulls one of her hands out from under his to wipe away her tears with her sleeve. His heart sinks at the thought that their moment is over.
That is, until she turns her remaining palm over and he realizes she’s trying to hold his hand properly.
She scoots closer to him and points up at the shining stars in the night sky.
“Are there any constellations we can see?” She asks.
He smiles at the opportunity to share his knowledge with her; this is something he knows that he’s good at.
He points out the various constellations above them and tells her about the ones that are present at other times of the year. He doesn’t notice that she’s shifted even closer to him on the bench until their hips touch and she’s lowering her head onto his shoulder.
“Is this okay?” she whispers
“Definitely,” He replies, and he bends his neck to place his head on top of hers, gently squeezing her hand as he does.
pretty pls comment and reblog if u liked! i love talking to u guys and seeing ur cute rambles in the reblog tags <3
you have to be able to defend people who are receiving unjust treatment even if they annoy you even if you personally find them extremely annoying you still have to be able to stand up and say "well thats fucked up"
the moral willpower required for "i hate their guts but my personal ethical standard is no xyz and i cannot set the precedent of making an exception for them" is imennse but important work
a big part of being happy is being excited. be excited for everything - making a cup of tea, decorating your future apartment, seeing a friend again, falling in love unexpectedly, the next episode of a show you like, finishing something stressful, buying something you’ve been saving up for, a new album, sunsets, traveling, road trips, and the feeling of going to bed after a long day. think of something to be excited about and daydream about it often when you’re sad.
does the body ALWAYS have to keep the score? maybe we could just have a friendly game this time. maybe we can just have fun without putting numbers on it
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I just saw a video title on YouTube that said something like “Why is glass transparent?” And that’s an interesting question and I’m sure it’s great that the video exists but my first thought was like “Because glass is terrible, obviously.” Because it’s unwieldy and let’s out warmth and needs to be heated to hundreds of degrees to be shaped and turns into hundreds of tiny daggers if you drop it. Why the hell would we bother with that if it didn’t have some magical quality like being totally transparent despite being solid? Glass is transparent because if it weren’t, we’d use something else.
If you’re still curious we did not start working glass for its transparency. It was most likely started as a sanitary concern. Glass is easy to clean with soap and water, once it’s cleaned out you can use it again for anything and no germs or flavor from the previous meal or drink will remain.
Other materials at the time, namely clay, would absorb flavors and germs meaning that if you ate beef off a clay plate your next meal with that plate could have beef flavor and microbes common on cow meat on it. That would leak out seemingly at random no less. Heck imagine a sick person coughing into their soup bowl and then months later their germs hiding in the clay would pop out to infect whole new people.
Also the earliest human use of glass we know of is for its sharpness. Pre-historic people would use volcanic glass as sharp knives for food preparation. Also beads. Pretty much any new substance humans get their hands on for most of our history we immediately try to make into beads.
The fact that it could become see through was a side benefit.
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
origamiaround
dededos
annaxmalina
blakekathryn
