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greywritesthings · 6 hours
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Your fernch!? I knew that
I am totally blind to the flag in your profile, apparently
I need people to practice French with, or just to talk to in French, esp in the cm fandom
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greywritesthings · 8 hours
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greywritesthings · 10 hours
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I agree
women 💘
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greywritesthings · 13 hours
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"if reid dies i quit" - penelope garcia
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greywritesthings · 13 hours
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I need people to practice French with, or just to talk to in French, esp in the cm fandom
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greywritesthings · 14 hours
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I didnt get the choice not too :'|
me when someone accuses me of something i definitely did
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greywritesthings · 14 hours
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Its a skill! Sounding it while very much not being it! No but thank you this projects worth 100% of my final grade so im going to *sob* if i fail, 3 years immediately down the drain
me when someone accuses me of something i definitely did
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greywritesthings · 14 hours
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Coming back to this to say i submitted the final 5.5K report + a mf of an excel sheet today so now its out of my hands and i've just gotta hope i get the grade to take me up into university! :D
me when someone accuses me of something i definitely did
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greywritesthings · 15 hours
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Energy Drink
Pairing: Derek Morgan x college student! Reader
Type: Fluff/Sweet (I think?)
Description: You know you are not supposed to be drinking energy drinks. Derek restricts them for a reason. But it's not like he is around to find out at the moment.
Warnings: stern but loving Derek, somewhat dominant Derek and that's pretty much it. Let me know if I need to add anything.
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You stare at the energy drinks in the vending machine near your lecture hall, contemplating whether to actually get one or not. You can practically feel the single-eyebrow-raised stare that Derek would give you if he were there.
Actually, if he were here, you wouldn't even be standing here contemplating this decision. After all, there is a reason Derek doesn't approve of you drinking energy drinks.
But as you hear your friends entering the hallway, you make up your mind and make quick work of getting your previously favorite flavor from the drinks available, checking to see how much time you have before the professor locks the door as your friends get to you and you make your way to into the hall, taking your seats in the middle.
Before you know it, you have emptied the can, recycled it, got done with work, hyper-fixated on cleaning the kitchen, cleaned the kitchen, and are distractedly working on 3 essays at the same time when Derek gets home. You run over to him before practically throwing yourself in his arms, eternally thankful for how strong he is as you realize that you could have both fallen and gotten hurt.
“Someone’s happy?” Derek looks at you questioningly as you cling to him, making you nod into your hiding spot, his neck.
You can feel him chuckle as he holds you while putting away his things near the entrance. The keys into the bowl, his wallet near the bowl, his shoes near the rack, and his briefcase under the table. You can tell everything he is doing as he does it without even looking up from your hiding spot. It’s probably the energy drink.
“How was your day gorgeous? And why are you up so late? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He questions as he walks into the living room and sees the mess of snacks at the kitchen counter surrounding your laptop in stark contrast to the surprisingly squeaky clean kitchen.
But instead of getting answers like he expected, he looks down to see you staring at him with wide eyes before asking what time it was. That’s when it clicks to him.
He carries you around as he closes your laptop against your protests before carrying your pouty butt to your bedroom.
“I was still working on that essay. You can’t just close my laptop like that!”
Your complaints fall on deaf ears as he finally puts you down on the counter of your ensuite bathroom.
“Those essays, not that essay. And I saved them before closing your laptop sweet cheeks. Now, care to tell me about that energy drink you had?” Derek folds his arms as he gives you the look. You know, the look. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you are bad at lying when it comes to him. Or honestly, the BAU in general. But in this case, that doesn’t even matter because you don’t think before you answer.
“How did you know?” You look at him with big eyes and a pout as you realize that you just told him that you had one.
“Because, sweetheart,” Derek smiles despite knowing he should be scolding you before nuzzling your nose with his, “I know you.”
You pout but give him a quick peck before he pulls away. “I was tired before a 4-hour lecture with the bitc- witchy professor.” You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to remember the task you had given him as he tried to stop his smirk at your almost mistake.
“You have to help me stop swearing! Please, Derek!!” You pleaded, but he still seemed unsure. “How exactly will I be helping you?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you blush but nod. This took him a little by surprise. “You have to use your words Y/N, you know I won’t agree to anything unless you clarify yourself and what you want.” You blush as you confirmed verbally to what you had both talked about with just your eyes not even minutes ago.
“Anyways, I was exhausted so I thought, why not.” You shrug.
“You know why not.” Derek gives you that look. “You get way too hyper for way too long sweeetie. You usually can’t even keep track of time, like today. I got home at around 3:25 a.m. Y/N. You have to wake up at 7 for work and now you are gonna have a migraine. Did you even eat dinner? Or lunch? Anything other than those snacks?”
You are honestly surprised about how late it is, you didn’t even feel the time passing. You try to remember if you ate anything for lunch or dinner but you don’t even remember getting or eating the snacks Derek mentioned. You cringe at the thought of the migraine you are going to have along with the fact that you definitely disappointed Derek and that you are not even sleepy.
Derek sighs after staring at you thinking for a few minutes, making you realize he is still there. At this point, you at least have the courtesy to look ashamed.
“Here is what we are going to do now. You are going to get out of these clothes and get in the shower while I get a few things done. Okay baby?” You nod quickly before making grabby hands at him. He obliges and comes closer for you to give him a hug. He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving you in the bathroom.
“Wet your hair too!” You hear Derek yell from somewhere in the house as you make your way into the shower after undressing and getting it set up.
Not long after you get your hair wet thoroughly, Derek comes into the bathroom and joins you in the shower. After giving you a head massage as he washed your hair and helped you clean up with you returning the favor, you step out of the shower together. You let him cover you in his towel while he uses yours.
After getting changed into some pajamas and having him partially dry your hair with a towel, you get in bed together, finally tired and ready to fall asleep.
“I emailed your manager that you won’t be able to get to work until noon tomorrow.” Derek mumbles tiredly as he pulls you flush to him and snuggles you close.
You turn around in his arms before pecking his lips softly and mumbling out a thank you before you snuggle yourself as close to him as you can. You feel him kiss your forehead making you smile softly.
The last thing he hears before your breathing evens out is a sleepily mumbled, “No more energy drinks.”
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greywritesthings · 2 days
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When you first start learning a language the meaning of all of the words that you learn depend entirely on the equivalent word in a language you speak, and without that word to give it a meaning it would just be a random sound to you, but later on you don’t need that equivalent word for the new words you’ve learned to have meaning anymore and they just exist on their own in your brain without attachment to any other languages and I think that that’s my definition of fluency, when the words stop depending on another language for meaning in your mind
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greywritesthings · 2 days
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Fucking OW????
Spencer was lying on his couch completely motionless, cradling a book into his chest, the same book that you had gifted him. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and a lack of sleep, it had been nearly two weeks since you passed, two weeks since he hadn’t been able to save you.
It was quiet in the apartment, usually the ticking sound of the grandfather clock could be heard in the background, but it hadn’t been wound in a good while and Spencer hadn’t noticed it. His mind was too busy playing back the last scenes of seeing you alive, a vicious cycle that he had no control over.
Sometimes Spencer swore that he heard your voice when he closed his eyes, it felt so lifelike that his eyes shot open and he frantically looked from side to side hoping, praying that all the events that took place were a horrible dream and that you were safe and still with him. However, when the silence was the only thing to be heard and he noticed that he was still wearing your cardigan, the hope came crashing down and his head hit the pillow again in a thud, it wasn’t real, it was his mind playing tricks on him again.
When his body gave in and Spencer finally fell asleep, his dreams were all filled with you. The two of you sitting at a table in a cafe, soft music playing in the background and the smell of the freshly brewed drinks filling your noses.
Spencer would slide his arm over the table to take your hand in his, but your hand would feel cold. The only time he was able to hold it was when he ran toward your lifeless body and took your hand in his to feel for a pulse that wasn’t there anymore.
Spencer would feel his chest tighten in his dream, but the image of you in his mind wouldn’t let him associate your passing with the last moments of seeing you alive. The dream version of you was determined to remind him of all the joyous times spent together instead, all the time spent sending each other letters, which later turned to phone calls. Spencer still remembers the first time he heard your laugh and how he knew that it would become one of his favorite sounds.
As time went on Spencer felt your hand getting warmer and the hold you had on him felt stronger. Spencer didn’t know what was going on, but the dream no longer felt like a dream, but as if it was a moment in real life. Your face was no longer hazy and he could clearly make out all of your features. He knew that this could be his final time seeing you and he wanted to treasure it as much as he could.
Eventually he woke up and saw that hours had passed, it was his first time having a proper sleep in weeks and he finally felt a bit lighter. What had happened made absolutely no sense to Spencer, it could’ve been his brain protecting him from any further emotional pain, or, maybe it was you coming to him in his dreams to tell him that you’re alright, whatever it was, he was thankful for it.
Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz
If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!
You can find my masterlist here!
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greywritesthings · 2 days
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unfortunately i Do feel better when i clean my living space and eat enough fruits and veggies and go outside and generally remember i am a mammal :| real pity that knowing this does not make it easier to do those things
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greywritesthings · 3 days
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And so i then write fanfic if i must be awake
i do
spencer reid x fem reader
spencer asks you to marry him and you get married in a quick ceremony (set in like season 11 in my mind)
a little short but silly and fun and i love happy spencer he deserves it
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his ass looks so juicy here
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Spencer had been nervously shaking all morning. You were really worried about him. Why is he acting so strangely? You wondered while drinking your own coffee.
“Spence, anything the matter love?” You ask softly as you set his mug of coffee down on the table in front of him.
He just lifts his head and reaches into his pocket nervously. He slowly gets down on one knee in front of you. You realize where this is going and gasp. He pulls out a small black velvet box in the shape of a heart.
When he opens it carefully, there sits your dream ring. It’s absolutely beautiful.
“Will you marry me?” Spencer asked tears flowing from his eyes.
“Yes! Of course I will Spencer!” You jump excitedly.
“I know a pastor that can marry us in an hour if you’d like.”
“But I don’t wanna marry a pastor, I wanna marry you!” You pout.
“What? No that’s not what-,” Spencer starts confused.
“I’m kidding! Of course I want to marry you now!! Let’s go!!” You race to grab your phone and call the closest thing Spencer’s got to a real family. The BAU team.
The team was going to meet you down at the church. You had just snagged a wedding dress quickly from a bridal shop. It was beautiful and exactly what you wanted. You were now in an antique shop.
“Ok so your necklace is the something old, your dress is the something new. All that’s left is something blue and a penny in your shoe.”
You lift your heel so he can slip the penny in your shoe.
“What can we find that’s blue?” You keep looking and find nice cufflinks for Spencer to wear. He was currently looking at vintage suits.
“What do you think?” He holds up a dark blue suit.
“Honey I don’t think you can be my something blue.”
“I just happen like the color though.” He pouts.
“Then it looks very nice. Hey what about this?” You hold up a beautiful antique tiara littered with blue jewels.
“Beautiful. Let’s get it.” You both race to the church and change. The girls help you with your hair and makeup.
Spencer goes ahead to meet the pastor at the altar while you wait at the end of the aisle. The BAU team and a few of your friends are waiting there cheering you both on. The organist plays the wedding march and Rossi takes your arm and walks you down the aisle.
JJ’s son follows as the ring bearer.
You’re crying, Spencer’s crying, Rossi’s crying, everyone’s crying. Even Morgan.
You thank Rossi and step up. Emily, JJ, Tara, and some of your friends are bridesmaids and Penelope, being your maid of honor, lifts your dress’s train and adjusts it. Spencer’s best man is Morgan. Hotch and Will are up there with him.
Spencer takes your hand and you speak your quickly written vows. Then the pastor.
“Do you Dr. Spencer Reid, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.” Tears are streaming down his face.
“(y/n) do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.” You’re smiling at him and squeezing his hands.
“You may now kiss the bride.” The pastor smiles proudly.
Spencer kisses you passionately. Then you throw your bouquet to the bridesmaids, Penelope catches it excitedly. Emily doesn’t even try to catch it.
Hotch throws some rice at you guys while laughing. JJ and Will are also throwing some.
Morgan shouts after you guys as you try to escape, “They’re excited to get started on the honeymoon!!”
After you guys leave he turns to Penelope, “Can’t believe the kid finally got hitched!”
That’s just what you guys did, hopped on a flight to anywhere you’ve always dreamed of going, got the biggest honeymoon suite the hotels offered, and enjoyed yourselves.
They lived happily ever after!
The End💘
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i hope this was even a little bit fun to read, please let me know if you enjoyed.
______
tags-
@whoisspence
@lemonadeinfuser
@fictionalobssed
@exoticisles
@in-another-april
@gallifreyan-idiocracy
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greywritesthings · 3 days
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Tumblr sucks for this, iv done it before its so irritating and theres 0 warnings anywhere
Anyway go follow them!! They're a really good writer :)
hi guys, so this is the owner of @golden1u5t or what used to be. uhm, i’m really almost in tears over this but i accidentally deleted that account because i had made a second blog and honestly i forgot what i was even going to use it for but i had decided i didn’t want to use it anymore and so i deleted it.
when i deleted that second blog i was unaware that it would also delete my main blog. tumblr has really pissed me off because it gave no warning whatsoever while i was going through the process to delete that second blog that it would delete my main blog. you have no idea how upset i am over this. like even though i stopped posting as much as i would have liked, i would like to think that i did work out on my work to make it so that you all would read it and it would be enjoyable for you all.
i really hate that it only took a few clicks of buttons for all my hard work to be gone. just like that. i’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to get my blog back to what it was before but i promise i’ll try my hardest.
so whenever you see this, if you read my work or followed me, i’d love it if you just popped in for a quick moment to let me know you saw this and know what’s going on. i think it’d make me feel a little less crappy too.
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greywritesthings · 3 days
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“post prison reid is so tough and badass” ?? the same post prison reid who begged prentiss not to leave the team again??? the same post prison reid who can’t stand group food?? the same post prison reid who bleached his apartment because a woman would be in it for like five minutes??? the same post prison reid who was studying fungi because he found it relatable????
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greywritesthings · 3 days
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Is it too much to ask to connect on a deep spiritual level with some peeps who read and write Spencer Reid x reader fics? I literally crave sharing silly little ideas, headcanons, writings, fics, WIPs and just chatting and being down bad together for this man
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greywritesthings · 3 days
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i love this oh my gods its just so perfect + spencers just so great
I would dieeee for some more of Spencer and bombshell after her getting injured😭 him taking such good care of her, the BEST doctors, researching every single option😭 reassuring her rhats shes just as pretty😭
—Spencer looks after you while you recover from a brutal injury. fem!reader, 1.1k
Spencer thinks it’s one of the team's more gruesome injuries. Hotch has been stabbed to mince meat and Emily half-killed, Elle got shot, and he’s had his fair share of violence, too, but he can’t imagine the horror of being hit in the face with a hammer. The pain so close to your eyes, your teeth, your brain, the fear and the sudden crack. He feels sick whenever he remembers the sound, and he was sick the first time he dreamt about the way you cried as it happened. Your strange yelp, the immediate drop to the floor. 
Spencer never hit somebody as hard as he did that UnSub. His gun whipped out possessed across the UnSub’s face, and then drove forward into their nose with a stomach turning crunch. 
They’re in custody, and you’re in bed recovering with some of the best doctors in the world. Spencer thinks you both won this round, even if it doesn’t feel like a win right now. 
“Shh,” he whispers, “shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, don’t cry.” 
You cling to his chest as though worried he’s going to move out of reach, sobbing. You’re careful not to touch your face or his chest, the soreness too much, but the rest of you is clinging to him. You don’t have to worry, he’s not going anywhere. 
“Please, it’s okay,” he says, the tip of his nose to your forehead. “You can have another dose in twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.” 
He supposes the pain reminds you of the full extent of the injury, your jaw fractured in two places, your gum traumatised, your face more bruise than anything else. You hate your appearance being out of your control, it’s making you panic —he can feel you shaking.
He’d sat down with your drink to find you already crying, he couldn’t have been gone for ten minutes, but it was long enough for you to fall deep into the throes of hysteria. You’d grappled for him as he sat down to hug you, your face hidden ever since, and now the shakes have started. He’s hopeless. 
But Spencer’s willing to do anything to make it better. “Can you tell me what’s upsetting you? Please?” he asks.
“It’s–” Harder sobbing, your tears dripping down from your chin to wet the thigh of his pants.
He has to calm you down.
Since you met Spencer, you’ve been the comforter. He can’t count how many times something has hurt him and you’ve rushed to save him. You’ve hugged and held and kissed him into smiling, you’ve never let him down, you’ve forgiven him after a hundred stupid mistakes, so Spencer doesn’t care that you’ve been inconsolable for days. He really doesn’t mind that he’s had to look after you this attentively. It’s his pleasure, and he’s getting better at it. 
He presses a few soft shushes somewhere in your hairline, his hand rubbing a circuit into your back with a firm pressure that never tips into roughness. He does it until his palm is numb. He could paint the slant of your back from muscle memory, fingers tripping down the creased fabric of your pyjamas, pulling back up to your neck. He’s never felt such tender sympathy. He hates that you’re in pain, but he doesn’t hate getting to rub your back. This is surely boyfriend territory. 
“You want something to drink now?” he asks quietly. 
You open your mouth to answer, sighing in pain momentarily. “Uh, yeah.” 
“Did you want the straw?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Okay.” He can’t force himself away. “You okay for me to move you?” 
“Yeah.” 
You can’t be blamed for short answers. 
There are surgeries to hold your jaw together when it breaks, and while you were unconscious (shock, rather than head injury), Hotch consented as your next of kin for the doctors to make sure things wouldn’t get worse, but it was Spencer who had to advocate for you afterwards. They’d wanted a metal connector to prevent dislocation. Spencer knew this could mean another scar, so he said no, because you might’ve said no had you been awake, and they should’ve asked you anyways. 
When you did wake up, you were vehemently against it. Which is fine, you can heal without it, but it’s scarier to do it unaided. Your jaw could dislocate if you do something wrong, which is not only horrifically painful, but a painfully horrific injury to have. You talk quietly. You take small mouthfuls of soft foods. 
Spencer looks at you now, tearstained, back arched like a kicked dog, and doesn’t know what to do. He wishes he were the one who got injured instead. 
He takes the hospital bed controls into his hand and presses the button to make the top of your mattress elevate. Tomorrow, they’ll send you home, and Spencer will have to construct a nest of pillows for you to sit in while you recover, but it’ll be worth it. Things won’t feel as intimidating when you’re in your own bed. 
“Lean back, beautiful,” he says. 
Your smile is a straight line with eyes lit up. “What for?” you ask. 
“Comfier. Less stress on your head.” You lean back. “Oh,” he adds, “and so I can get a better view of you.” 
Your eyes get impossibly brighter. “What do you think?” you murmur. Your voice sounds scratched to death from crying, tight from holding your mouth a certain way, but pleased anyways. It’s just as pretty as it always is to him. 
“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, reaching out to cradle your waist, his hand moving up and down the side of you tenderly. 
You have a bruise from under your left eye and bleeding down your neck, and you haven’t slept right for a few days, but you’re undeniably beautiful in Spencer’s eyes. 
You’ve been the most beautiful girl in the world literally from the day you met onward, with as much to do with your heart as your lovely face. He should tell you that, but he doesn’t. 
“Can I have water now?” you ask, covering his hand with yours. 
His confidence wobbles. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Sorry.” He grabs your drink, water spilling down the side to wet his hand. 
“Please don’t make me laugh.” 
“I’m not trying to,” he says pathetically. 
He holds the cup of water to your face and you guide the straw between your lips. Spencer’s sure he’s been in love with you forever, and it’s all but cemented now. 
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