you can't catch a falling star

it would burn up in the atmosphere

[in-another-april]

introduction ━

| welcome! my name is carmen, i'm 19, and my pronouns are she/her. thanks so much for checking out my blog ♡

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| feel free to send a request or message!

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*tags are currently a little disorganized!

[in-another-april]

he’s so babygirl 😮‍💨

[in-another-april]

he’s sooo silly :(

[in-another-april]

ohe i lovee him. and his nerdy lil outfits.

[in-another-april]

[in-another-april]

bitches will be like “this is my comfort show” and its a show where the characters have never felt a day of comfort in their lives (its me im bitches)

[in-another-april]

ohhh i will cry. thank you so much this is so. i am speechless hehee

[in-another-april]

infodumping spencer you are. so special to me

[in-another-april]

─ patching up a wound | s.r

summary/prompt + genre - ♟/12 from "Nonsexual acts of Intimacy” : "Patching up a wound" | hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings - mentions of minor injury and a bit of canon typical violence about a case

wc - 702

notes - first post on this blog! thanks for reading!!!

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You had just returned home after a long, strenuous case that left the entirety of your team exhausted and more grateful than ever for the weekend ahead. While the day, fortunately, concluded with the victim found safe and the unsub taken into custody, you were injured in the process. A hit to your forehead, resulting in a relatively small gash. Which, although minor, had Spencer fretting over you as soon as he took notice of it. You managed to convince him to take you home, knowing the last place either of you wanted to end the night was in the hospital.  

Despite his agreement, he still took the drive home as an opportunity to share his collection of statistics regarding infections, concussions, and the like. He knew you were strong, that you could take care of yourself. Even so, he’d be lying through his teeth if he said his worry for your safety wasn’t always an unyielding buzz in his mind, a consistent white noise that had been playing since the moment he met you. Now, in your shared bathroom with the first aid kit splayed on the counter below, you carefully tend to the injury and hope not to worry him too much.

“You okay?” The question pulls your attention away from the mirror, eyes flitting over towards the source of the gentle voice. There stood Spencer in the doorway, a concerned yet knowing expression displayed on his soft features. Your eyes make it a point to avoid his gaze, well aware of the “I told you so” look waiting for you within it.

“Mhm,” You hum, shifting your focus back to pressing the alcohol pad over the wound, wincing in pain from the stinging sensation. “I’m alright.” Your attempts at convincing him are clearly not as effective as you hoped, given the worried furrow settled between his eyebrows as he takes a tentative step towards you.

“Can I?” He asks, stepping close enough to envelop you in the scent of his cologne, faint from the long day but still ever so comforting and familiar. “You don’t have to take care of it all by yourself.” His words have an added heaviness that follow along with them, a meaning running deeper than just him tending to your injury, and you’re eager to alter the mood as best as you can.

“Of course, go ahead.” Your hand ceases its movements and falls back to your side as you watch him pick up the pad and set the entirety of his focus on you. Spencer reaches to tilt your chin up, allowing himself a better view of the gash. You try to ignore the feeling his touch ignites in you as he holds your face and begins wiping at the cut, touch so delicate and light it would barely register to you if you weren’t aware of what was happening.

That is, until he applied more pressure and the burning feeling returned at once, pulling a hiss of pain from you at the suddenness of the sensation.

“I know,” He all but cooed, brushing the stray hair out of your face. “I’m almost done.” His assurances were whispered in such a soft tone making you practically melt in his hold, the intimacy of the situation bordering on overwhelming. Opening up and accepting comfort is never easy, but it’s almost second nature with Spencer. It feels as though he defines a new level of gentleness as he loves you, irrevocably and fully, and he grants you the gift of being able to do the same to him.

He gives you a once-over after he’s finished, admiring both his work and the way you look under the glow of the warm bathroom lighting. He leans in to press a featherlight kiss over the bandage, the cheesy display of affection causing you to tuck your head into his shoulder in an attempt to hide the soppy smile making its way onto your face.

“You wanna head to bed?” He speaks quietly, so as not to disturb the peaceful silence that had enveloped the two of you. He lets out a soft chuckle as a yawn answers for you before you give a proper reply. 

[in-another-april]

cannot believe its been a WHOLE YEAR?? since i posted my first fic on this blog. thank you sooo much for all your support!! i’ve been having sm fun and i’m so grateful for all the amazing people i’ve met on here. love uuu <3

p.s i’ll be back to posting next week hehe

[in-another-april]

hii everyone! i wanted to let you know im going to be taking a little break from writing. i’ve been running out of motivation and ideas, and have a lot to do before my next semester starts. i’ll still be active, i just feel like i need some time to recharge and beat the writers block. thank you so much for all your support and understanding! <3

[rylandgraces]

CRIMINAL MINDS 2.08 'Empty Planet'

[in-another-april]

god this look has me 😵‍💫

[in-another-april]

i can't wait to binge read your latest work aaa!!

omg omg im so happy to see you!! welcome back bestie, i hope you’re doing well <33

[in-another-april]

glasses spencer glasses spencer glasses sp

[in-another-april]

one of my favorite things about early seasons spence is him just looking casually scared all the time

[in-another-april]

oh man oh man oh m

[inactive-whoisspence]

[in-another-april]

Could we get a whole blurb of playing with Spencer's hair? Maybe with some sleepy Spencer since that's your specialty <3

summary/prompt + genre - Spencer loves having his hair played with; you love playing with his hair. What a match! | fluff

warnings - none

wc - 352

notes - sleepy spencer!!1!!!11!!! i was worried i was writing about him too much but oof ill never pass up the opportunity hehe. kinda short one today bc spencer isnt the only one thats tired rn

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After a long case, Spencer just needs to be with you. It's become a routine of sorts, and tonight is no different: cuddling on the couch first thing after he got home late.

He lays on top of you, head on your chest. His breath fans against your collarbone, right next to where his long hair is splayed out across your skin, falling over his face no matter how often you brush it away. You watch him intently, admiring his droopy eyes and relaxed, tired features.

Your hand brushes through his hair, twirling a strand around your finger gently. Occasionally, your hand moves up to rub soft circles into his scalp, the feeling making him practically melt.

"Sleepy?" You mumble, but you already know the answer. "You ready to go to bed?"

"Wanna spend time with you." He hums in disagreement, nestling further into you. He tilts his head up to meet your eyes. Yours soften at his response.

You missed each other while he was away, phone calls and texts just weren't enough. You'd spend the whole rest of the night (and all of eternity) with him if you could, but you know he needs his rest.

"There's always tomorrow, angel." Your voice is soft, fitting. You lean in to kiss his forehead, the love you have for him almost overwhelming. He doesn't look convince, so you're left with no choice. The hand in his hair scratches gently at his scalp, and he grumbles. Unfair.

Playing with his hair never fails to knock him out, the sensation so relaxing and comforting that it lulls him to sleep within minutes. If he didn't love it, love you, he'd say that you know him too well. He yawns, and he doesn't even have to look at you to know you're smiling smugly. Maybe he knows you too well, too.

"...Tomorrow?" He concedes, deciding that falling asleep doesn't sound so bad after all. Not when you're holding him like this, taking care of him so well. He smiles, your voice being the last thing he hears before he drifts into sleep.

"I'll be there."

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