halamet-chalamet

[halamet-chalamet]

P E R I O D

Drake Bell even feeling the need in an interview to explain he was wearing a fucking jeans and T-Shirt when he was raped makes me so sad and angry.

say it with me: IT DOESNT FUCKING MATTER WHAT THE VICTIM WAS WEARING.

[halamet-chalamet]

Early seasons Spencer Reid.

That's it. It's all I had to say.

[halamet-chalamet]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

��Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

#this may be the best fanfic Spencer I’ve ever read 😭 #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #your honor im obsessed with him

[halamet-chalamet]

I hate being sad.

I write like so much angst it feels like annnd I listen to sad music and I enjoy it but then I actually get sad and it’s like- 😐 not what Bestie signed up for. Anywhooo I’m rlly hoping to start writing again HAZAH! Happy holidays everyone!

#ana’s thoughts

[halamet-chalamet]

Are you still active on here?

Hiii thanks for asking I literally just got tumblr back after literal MONTHS and I am so sorrryy for dying randomly lmao

I traveled a lot this fall and holidays and craziness

[halamet-chalamet]

I’m terrible at commitment to any writing project but I may at least make a draft 😓

Ooo if anyone takes requests for Willy Wonka (2023), I have an idea/request!!!

Wonka x pregnant!fem!reader where she’s has a not so great husband, so she leaves to go somewhere safe for her and her future baby (she pregnant with a babygirl). She finds Scrubit and Bleachers sanctuary (or rather they find her… And offer a safe place to sleep). Needing a place to stay, she doesn’t read the whole contract, she ends up getting trapped there like the others. When Willy gets trapped down there, Y/n has already had her baby. Willy and Y/n have an immediate connection and fall in love during their time down there, and Willy becomes a father to Y/n’s daughter🥺🥺 Him insuring Y/n that he will get them out of there one day, and take care of them when he gets his chocolate shop. Etc 🥺🥺🥺

Please let me know if you wanna write this!!!🙇‍♀️

[halamet-chalamet]

Yesss omggg

Ooo if anyone takes requests for Willy Wonka (2023), I have an idea/request!!!

Wonka x pregnant!fem!reader where she’s has a not so great husband, so she leaves to go somewhere safe for her and her future baby (she pregnant with a babygirl). She finds Scrubit and Bleachers sanctuary (or rather they find her… And offer a safe place to sleep). Needing a place to stay, she doesn’t read the whole contract, she ends up getting trapped there like the others. When Willy gets trapped down there, Y/n has already had her baby. Willy and Y/n have an immediate connection and fall in love during their time down there, and Willy becomes a father to Y/n’s daughter🥺🥺 Him insuring Y/n that he will get them out of there one day, and take care of them when he gets his chocolate shop. Etc 🥺🥺🥺

Please let me know if you wanna write this!!!🙇‍♀️

[halamet-chalamet]

Haven’t posted in forever but get this. Spencer Reid x reader fic based on 3AM by Matchbox 20 like the line

“She said it’s cold outside and she hands me a rain coat,

She’s always worried about things like that”

Would that not be adorable?!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader

[halamet-chalamet]

I genuinely love when people infodump to me I think it’s so sweet, like please do not feel like you have to apologise for doing it

[halamet-chalamet]

Helloooo omggg I love your blog sm I have a request that’s terrible so don’t feel pressured to do it lmao

I’m afraid of escalators- everytime ya girl tries to get on one since I got a foot injury I fall :(( but I was just at the airport and had to go on a bunch SO- Aaron Hotchner holding hands everytime we have to go on an escalator-

Working to hunt and apprehend the country's most dangerous criminals should mean that you're not scared of much. You can handle flying, you take the jet constantly. Being mugged is something you know you'll likely withstand, even if you're injured, because you can fight back. You have no unique fears, like birds or butterflies or cats- well, that is, excluding escalators.

They're just not your forte. Each time you ride one you fear falling, the constant, steady movement something that you need to spend far more than three seconds analyzing before hopping on. Unfortunately, as you're currently tracking down information from the third floor of a major airport, escalators are a must.

Aaron boards before you, and you thank the heavens that it means he doesn't see you linger. You set your hand on the railing, gut sinking as you feel it relentlessly move beneath your fingertips. Turning, sucking, pulling you in, pulling you down, pulling you under. You're so busy watching the belt turn that you miss the way Hotch has asked you a question, then turned to wonder after your response, and found you unmoving at the base of the escalator.

"Y/L/N," He calls, and your white-hot face snaps up to meet his gaze, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah." You nod, lifting your foot to board. But it won't lower itself onto the stairs in front of you. You briefly remember that it won't move on its own, that you'll need to control it, but you can't manage that, either.

Hotch scrutinizes you with a furrowed brow. When he has the evidence he needs, in your nervous glances and stiff limbs, he quickly descends the escalator, having moved even further away from you while speaking. He jogs down the stairs, moving himself faster than it's moving him, and nudges you out of the way to disembark.

"Come on," He urges, seeking out your hand in his own, "Grab the railing."

You lower your hand onto it with a shaky breath, and he squeezes your hand in encouragement. Your grip is loose enough for it to pass beneath you, but present, and he tugs you an inch forwards towards the escalator.

"I've got you," He pledges, holding your hand steadily, so that it grounds you, "Let's go."

He steps backwards onto the escalator, pulling you with him, and all of a sudden you're on it. He gives you no time to think, just pulls your hand so that your feet move too, and then you're doing it. Your legs feel locked, tight, and in danger of toppling you right over, and you fear you may be cutting off the circulation to Hotch's hand when you squeeze it, but if you are, he says nothing. He just stands there, glancing briefly backwards to ensure that he doesn't stumble while disembarking at the top.

"Good," He murmurs, a mere five seconds from the last stair, "Now, hold my hand, there you go, and- there."

He steps off, pulls you with him, then you're done. Then it's over, and you're standing fifteen feet higher than you had been before, feeling solid, unmoving ground below your feet.

"Hotch," You try, your voice painfully weak, "Um, I- I'm not-"

"It's alright." He brings his free hand to the one of yours that he's holding, sealing your hand between both of his and squeezing it warmly, "You don't have to tell me why, and you don't need to be embarrassed. Everyone's got something."

"Alright," You nod once, thankful for the out, but still in disbelief that you'd not only ridden an escalator, but that your boss had held your hand for the trip, and told you not to be ashamed, "Uh- thank you."

"Anytime." He nods, dropping only one of his hands. Anytime becomes right now, when he glances a few feet away at the next set of escalators, and that sinking feeling sets right back into your stomach.

"You can have a minute," Hotch uses your intertwined hands to lead you to a wall that you lean up against. To draw your mind away from the daunting mechanical hum of the escalators, you study Hotch's tie instead, not brave enough yet to look at his face.

After a moment, you speak: "Hotch?"

"Hm?"

"You said everyone has something."

"I did," He nods, anticipating your next question.

"What's yours?"

He takes a sharp breath in, then admits, "Mice."

Before you can react, though you'll gawp at him later for the answer, he drags you towards the next escalator.

"Ready?" He asks, and infers a yes when really you might have said no, stepping back onto the stairs.

It's a grueling ride, one that has you rife with nerves, but when you're finally standing on the third floor, you manage, "Mice?"

"Not important," He drops your hand to take your back instead, pushing you towards the help desk with vigor you don't typically see from your usually stoic boss, "Let's focus on our work, Agent."

#THIS IS MY REQUEST- #IM SO AFRAID OF ESCALATORS #I actually can’t thank you enough

[halamet-chalamet]

What is this from- someone please?!

just dropped to my knees!!!!! and No i will not be okay

#thomas gibson #dies

[halamet-chalamet]

( i clarify the video is not mine)

#just like me fr #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #mgg #criminal minds

[halamet-chalamet]

ahHHHH🙏🏼😭

#cries #criminal minds #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner #should marry me #why am I not with Aaron Hotchner?

[halamet-chalamet]

Angela by the lumineers = the feeling Spencer got when he fell in love with you

#I’ll take any chance to promote the lumineers #spencer reid #criminal minds #Spencer Reid x you

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GUYS I WANNA WRITE FOR HOTCH SO BAD BUT STILL HAVE SPENCER REQUESTS WHAT DO I DO?!

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds headcanons #aaron hotchner x y/n

[halamet-chalamet]

AH-

as a massive beatles fan, learning from that one ep that Hotch's fav album is The White Album makes my brain cells go literally insane i stg

#huge Beatles fan? #me #aaron hotchner #*dies* #hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x y/n

[halamet-chalamet]

Realizing I deleted my almost finished and emotionally exhausting Cat/ Spencer situation fic was the most soul crushing experience 🥲

#I hate myself #send help #criminal minds #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid