one gripe i have with conversations around reid's addiction plotline is people thinking he was actively high on dilaudid *at work.* i've literally seen people argue about this on tiktok comments and say, "no, he was high in those scenes." he was obvs still active in his addiction, but was it not clear he was having withdrawls... and not actively high?
obvs, he could control the dose, but did we not see what reid actually looked like high in revelations (passed out and having flashbacks)
thinking about my oc for spencer reid who iâve day dreamt/written personally about for years. i get sad sheâs not real lol and have convinced myself shes better fleshed out/written than his other love interests in the show
the disturbing thing about the colleen ballinger stuff is that stories of adults being too comfortable with minors is so common on a smaller scale in fandoms online. so many older adults engage in inappropriate sexual conversation with minors in regards to fandom content and justify their behavior by saying theyâre discussing fictional content.Â
i remember being 16 or 17 (with my age listed clearly in my bio) and posting about crushing on a character. then an adult user who i only interacted with occasionally DMd me a âsurpriseâ writing me a smut blurb involving myself and that character. i didnât ask for this story to be written either.Â
i believe there is no age limit to enjoying fandom content or engaging in a fandom, but when youâre in an online community that happens to have minors in it, you as the adult, must maintain boundaries and be careful of how you interact with others.Â
ok wow so i actually found the message i had sent to the person regarding the situation. itâs very weird that i as a teenager had to be put in the position of sending a message like this to an adult. i had no other incidents with this person, but being in my early 20s now, i couldnât even fathom writing a piece about a teenager like that.
so i recently came across this persons page on my social media again. this incident wasnât anything incredibly traumatizing for me, but when i see their face, the first thing thatâs always gonna register to me is how they wrote weird ass smut about me, put my name in, and just send that shit to me unprompted. hopefully theyâre not out being weird to minors anymore!!
that one stranger things ship is just not happening and i fear itâs going to cause unprecedented levels of fandom meltdown when it ends up not being canon.
the concept of a spencelle fic that actually takes place in the current/later timeline of criminal minds where they reunite over a decade after she left⌠they havenât talked since. spencer finds himself thinking about her and reaches out, via a message, (barely understanding how to social media stalk but figure it out based on knowledge garcia has bestowed on him over the years). to his surprise (and relief), she is actually incredibly happy to hear from him and would like to meet in person⌠they set up a date and time, later out given their differences in geographical locations and schedules.
when the in-person meetup actually happens, theyâre pretty floored just seeing how the other looks now, but especially elle. elle asks whatâs happened with him in the bau since she left, and he jokingly asks if she has all day, but she gives an earnest âyes.â it gets quite emotional with talks of elleâs ptsd and everything spencer has suffered, especially prison. so, they talk for literal hours about their lives and still find themselves wanting to talk more. they end up calling each other nearly everyday following this encounter and plan for their next in-person meeting. itâs not clear who falls first, but at some point, both of them eventually have the realization of, âshit, i have feelingsâŚâ
what if you started a new JOB after faking your identity to catch a TERRORIST and SERIAL KILLER. then at your new JOB as a federal AGENT, your random BISEXUAL and MOODY co-worker who you've barely gotten to know decides he HATES you when you're already struggling to fit in. but little do you know he's on hard DRUGS and moody af and has decided you SUCK.
but little do you KNOW that little BITCH is going to become one of your BESTIES and you will quite literally commit CRIMES for one another.
summary: fighting with Spencer about moving boxes and closet space ends with three empty drawers, twenty hangers, and one very sweet âwelcome home.â
genre: angst + fluff word count: 0.7k
tags/warnings: established relationship, reader is moving into spencerâs apartment, frustrated reader + kinda oblivious spencer, sweet fluffy resolution, no use of y/n
prompt: here a/n: written for my whisper week 1k event! hope you enjoy đ xoxo
main event post ⥠whisper week masterlist
Youâre both sweaty, dusty, and on your third trip up the stairs when the fight finally sticks.
âWhere am I supposed to put my stuff, Spencer?â You drop a box onto the rug and watch a stack of his books wobble in protest. âI mean, seriouslyâwhere?â
âI cleared space,â he insists. He gestures at a single empty shelf on the bookcase. âSee? That one is⌠yours.â
âWow. One shelf.â You open the bedroom closet. Hangers clack together, jammed shoulder-to-shoulder with his cardigans and button-downs. âMy clothes are never going to fit in here.â
âIâ I freed up some space,â he says, opening the third dresser drawer, which is indeed empty aside from a rogue purple sock and an old metro card.
You suppress a groan and instead let out a humorless laugh. âThis doesnât feel like Iâm moving in. It feels like living out of a duffel bag for a perpetual sleepover. Thatâs not the same thing.â
Spencer goes very still, hand on the doorframe like he needs something to brace against. âI really tried,â he says quietly. âI donated. I threw out duplicatesââ
âYou still have an entire cabinet full of just mugs,â you interject, staring into the kitchen. âAnd all the storage in your bathroom is completely full.â
âItâs just⌠familiar to me,â he says, and the word lands between you like a defense and a confession.
âExactly. Itâs familiar to you. You live here. Iâm trying to live here.â
Spencer swallows, gaze flicking over your boxes, your shoes by the door that look like they donât belong. âDoes this mean you donât want to?â
The bottom drops out of your stomach. âNo,â you say immediately, stepping toward him. âNo, Spence. It means I really, really do. I said yes when you asked me to move in because I want this.â
He nods, once, twice â processing, recalibrating. Then: âOkay. Then I need to do it right.â
Before you know it, heâs moving with purpose. Books sort into donation boxes. The mug collection clears to a neat row of six. He pulls cardigans from hangers and folds half into an under-the-bed bin without ceremony. He opens the bathroom medicine cabinet and clears out 75% of the bottles.
âTop three dresser drawers,â he says, eyes steady on yours. âYours. The closetâfirst twenty hangers are empty. Bathroomâyour skincare collection should fit now, I think. Kitchenâthis cabinet is for your stuff, and if your stuff needs more space, Iâll make it.â He bites the inside of his cheek before continuing. âIâŚI want it to look like you live here when I walk in the door every day.â
Somehow, thatâs the part that undoes you.
You slide one of the dresser drawers open and drop in a stack of pajamas. You set your favorite candle on the coffee table and light it with a match, and Spencer watches the tiny flame find itself.
âIâm sorry,â he says quietly. âI was holding onto all the wrong things. Nothing is more important to make room for here than you.â
âI donât need you to throw everything out,â you promise earnestly. âI love you. And your books. Even the six different copies of Crime and Punishment.â
âTheyâre each annotated differently,â he defends on reflex, then winces. âBut⌠they can be annotated in storage.â
You shake your head. âKeep them here,â you say, moving closer. âBut thank you.â
He tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear with a gentle hand. âTell me what else would make this place feel like home.â
You do: a framed photo of the two of you on the bookshelf, nicer throw pillows on the couch, your favorite blanket at the foot of the bed. He gives you all of it like itâs easy.
âYouâre making that face,â you say after a while, watching him from the other side of the room as he arranges and rearranges your pillows for the fifth time.
âWhat face?â
âThe one that means youâre thinking six steps ahead.â
âOnly three,â he says, honest. âDinner in our kitchen. You, asleep on our couch. This placeââ He gestures vaguely at the apartment around you. ââbeing where we start the rest of our lives together.â
âOurs,â you whisper as you step into him. He meets you halfway, forehead to yours, sweaty and ridiculous and so happy he looks a little stunned.
âHi, roommate,â you murmur.
âHi,â he says, smiling a breath away from your lips. âWelcome home.â
á°.á
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this ficlet was written for my whisper week 1k celebration event! follow along from September 7-13 for more đŤśđź
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