#i am TRYING which is better than a lot of other people (not you. they know who they are. the ghost readers)

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[cripplecharacters]

hello! i am currently trying to write a backstory for a character and im unsure about how to handle his disabilities in conjunction with it. the character is autistic, hard of hearing, and has been nonverbal since childhood (speaks using ASL and writing). i'm worried that the way i depict his experience in school accidentally plays into the "inspirational disabled person" trope.

i want his backstory to be realistic for the time period he was born in (late 1970's), and so i've written his disabilities to cause his teachers (and the school system in general) to look down on him and treat him as "inevitably stupid" and extremely high effort compared to other children. however, his response to being treated that way was to focus very heavily on school and studying in order to "prove them wrong," and he eventually came to be top of his class and achieved a lot of success as a result of it. a lot of his character is based on the emotional and mental fallout of that (burnout, low self-worth, overwork, etc.), but his efforts still got him into a good college and job, and i'm worried that it makes it seem like all you need to do to defeat adversity is "just try harder."

i have another disabled character in the same universe as him (also HoH/nonverbal/autistic) who went through similar struggles, but she ended up in the opposite situation as a result of being looked down upon (losing motivation to do anything in school, acting out, constantly getting awful grades, and eventually dropping out). both characters are painted in a sympathetic light by the narrative, and neither of their responses are intended to be viewed as better than the other (they're both meant to serve as criticisms of the many ways the school system fails children, which is a very important topic to me), but i'm worried that's not enough. thank you for your response!

Hi!

I think this is okay. By virtue of having two similar characters with different viewpoints of their experiences, you've helped avoid tokenization.

As long as you show the first character's struggles, I think you avoid inspiration porn. If his attitude is that he hates being treated as incapable so he has to work twice as hard to even get on the same level as his able peers, that's a reality many disabled people face.

Mod Rock

[genderqueerdykes]

i wanted to follow on from some of the recent asks about disability and basically see what you and others think. basically when things are kinda 'medium' bad, like I'm tired or in more than baseline but not extreme pain, or whatever, i always feel like I'm putting it on or playing it up. (and to be fair very occasionally i am, because i need to convince people who don't really get it that i need help with 'simple' tasks or whatever) but like i just walked for about 15 minutes, to go grab a snack from the shop, and my joints are misbehaving and so i was walking fairly slowly and when i had to hurry over the road my knee didn't like it and my back is really stiff and whatever but if i had to i could just mask and not even show any of it. how do i teach myself that not masking or masking less than i could =/= putting it on.

(also kicking myself because i did not buy any painkillers on my adventure to the shop and i don't have any with me today and i really really wish i had some right now owwww)

generally speaking, the normal amount of pain to be in is none, or at the least, so little that its not bothering you. unless you recently had an injury, exercised very vigorously, have particularly bad posture or or did a lot of repetitive motions with that part of your body, it's not normal to be in a consistent amount of pain. it's different for everyone, some people have astronomically low or high pain tolerances. some peoples pain tolerances fluctuate wildly.

that definitely does not sound like a "normal" amount of pain to be in for sure. i can relate to that though, i don't walk for much longer than about ~15 minutes. severity is a scale but it doesn't mean that half of it is invalid. the lower end of the spectrum is still experiencing pain even if it's "less". i'm very psychotic n i don't think ppl who experience psychotic episodes a handful of time in their lives.

if ur in pain, treating the pain is the first concern. figuring out the cause comes second. preventative care is important. it's good to get things to help you, however i do wanna give the Obligatory Equinox Warning about painkillers, which is to really be careful with them. i'm stone cold serious with this because i took Naproxen (Aleve) for months & it ate a hole in my stomach. NSAID medications like Naproxen & Ibuprofen are dangerous. they can also interact with other medications if you take it regularly.

be careful with Acetaminophen. it's very hard on the liver and you want to make sure you are not consuming too much. check the label on the bottle, but the recommendation is generally no more than 4,000mg of Acetaminophen (Tylenol, Paracetamol) per 24 hour period. be very careful. play it safe and go as far under 4,000mg as you can handle. you do not want permanent liver damage especially if u take other meds. be careful about tylenol with codeine. codeine is an opioid and can make you very tired, dizzy, or even cause death due to respiratory distress if too much is taken. plus there's a risk of addiction. always practice harm reduction w/ opioids.

i would recommend seeing if you can speak to a doctor about it and get a prescription medication that's tailored to your specific kind of pain. arthritis pain, fibromyalgia pain, pain from injuries, pain from inflammation, pain from gastrointestinal issues, pain from nerve damage, and all different kinds of pain respond differently to different medications. it's better to have access to way more options if possible. OTC painkillers are very weak and don't help very much in the long run

there are more accessible remedies that might help like taking hot baths or shower to ease pain, using topical pain killers like salonpas, tiger balm, blue emu or biofreeze. i try to urge people to try topical painkillers first, including the patches, because those medications are way less harsh on the kidneys & liver and a lot of them are herbal or are mostly herbal. tiger balm is an herbal medication that hits like a truck, it's camphor & menthol and it it's a blessing. i genuinely recommend it

good luck, if you think of anything else, let me know, i'll try to help in whatever ways i can.

[gatheredfates]

Of course I was going to respond to my own qotd! I actually have a few, so.

I wish I had more confidence to post my original work, most especially (but not limited to) my Thirteenth verse and some of the ideas I've had rolling around regarding Solution Nine/Shaaloani. I've talked a little around Coyote/Tech Bop but I also really want to explore the idea I've had for an Elezen knight-simulacrum—her name is Edelgard and I'm kinda not normal about her. I think the major thing that stops me is that I'm naturally a collaborative person, I much prefer to write with people than writing alone, and that tends to stop me a bit. It's why I don't write all that much about my WoL verse for Kor as I much prefer writing it with people or exploring it for people. When I'm doing it for myself, I both get really into it and end up really bored because it's the same feedback loop. It's why I struggle with, but am trying to overcome, my tendency to write fanfic every like two years LOL.

In pure indulgence, I'd love to write more ships/romance with people. I'm just a sucker for a good ship!! Let the OCs kiss!! Shipping is one of those things in roleplay/fandom that far too many people put down and yet seem to want at the same. Embrace your hedonism and write that stuff! Who cares if people think you're cringe!!!

In addition to the above, I'd also like to write with more people—whether in game or out. However, I have a woeful timezone and attention span, which I'm also trying to work on. Work doesn't help when I'm absolutely exhausted from the day, but I'm hoping the new job will help with that in making me tired in a less burnt out way and more a genuine weariness.

I'd love to go to more events, but that plays into the above as well. I do genuinely miss in-character club events where people could drink, dance and have fun. I know a lot of people put nightclubs down, but my controversial yet brave opinion is that fight clubs are no better for being 'acceptable' and, frankly, are less collaborative because you have to make room for the people to brawl (This is not a go at them btw, it's just an observation based on my experiences). I love a mixture of serious and non-serious events. Honestly, I wish I had more events to add to the Compendium, but they are hard to find!

I'd just like to do more collaborative things. I'm a collaborative girlie. I love doing things with other people.

This is one of my favourite oc/wol qotd posts to make because I do think it paves the way for positive interactions and the like—so!

If you could have one self-indulgent thing in your writing/roleplay/characterisations right now, what would it be and why? This could be something as simple as 'I wish I had the confidence to post x work' or 'I wish I could roleplay x and y but I would need [insert character type here] to make it work' or even 'I'd love to find x community but I'm not sure if it even exists'.

If you see someone's indulgence here and you can help them by either supporting or contributing to it, take the time to reach out! ✨You might just make a new friend or encourage someone to be more confident in their work.

[silusvesuius]

this tree from my new drawing looking goated afffffff 👑👑

[nexus-nebulae]

i want to remove my new shrimp's pringle bc i wanna whack people with the Plush Tube but it's sewn on so I'd have to use my seam ripper

it won't make holes and he will still have the pringle only he can share now

[swaghaver69]

i feel a heavy pressure like someone is sitting on my chest making it so i can’t breathe whenever i think about how every single structure in society and social conditioning makes it so that women have no choice but to inevitably end up with a male and it is pushed so hard as the only possible viable option and it feels choking and inescapable (personal rambling vent in tags)

[ranger-danger]

Talking about stardew valley romances is so awkward. My friends are like “oh I love [every single guy, and Haley, but Alex]” and I have to go “oh I like Alex and Maru the most.”

[imflyingfish]

Its weird because i dont actually have much of a desire to move to france or use french reguarly in my life but at this point ive deadicated over a year to learning it so i might as well keep going and finish

[aeide-thea]

thinking abt like. if you introduce someone to something you're into and they're like, wow, that's so awesome, you're probably tickled that they dig it and are seemingly a kindred spirit at least that far; if you then introduce them to another thing you're into and they're again like, wow, that's so awesome, you're probably still pleased but also perhaps guiltily wondering whether they know any other adjectives; and if you introduce them to a third thing and yet again they're like, wow, that's so awesome, you're probably asking yourself, was any of that affirmation actually real or is this person just so reflexively accommodating that they've been turning off whatever independent critical faculties they possess in order to play a better yes-man???

(for values of 'you' that primarily mean 'me' obviously)

[todayisafridaynight]

I was the one who's struggling to going through y6 but the realization I had when I realized you're my fav MineDai author a while back made my brain blue screen heuwje

Honestly thank you for the good food in both mediums ‼️‼️

OHH YOU'VE ALSO READ MY MINEDAI FICS??? mortifying BUT i'm so glad you enjoy my stuff hi ^^ !!

[kkisadorabubble]

I wouldn’t have the heart to tell my kid self why I’m still single and not infatuated with that guy anymore

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Thanks For Listening

YA contemporary

a girl who’s the stage manager in her high school theater club is tired of nobody listening to her advice, so she makes an anonymous social media account that people might actually listen to

while also dating her first girlfriend and struggling with her relationship with her best friends

ace MC

[itsalwaysdark]

the worst part is like . I know it sounds like ocd and i know a lot of ppl with ocd and i watch them talk abt their experiences and i relate a ton but then my brains like How dare you relate to them and try to compare. youre just an evil person and youre trying to pretend you have ocd . and its actually different and the fact you even thought for a second "oh thats similar to what i experience" means that you will be a bad person forever and you cant fix it and you need to go to hell. and you dont have ocd youre just actually an evil person. so i cant actually let myself think abt it being ocd basically

[nereidprinc3ss]

diva

in which flirty!reader shows up to work in a bad mood and it’s spencer’s job to deal with her attitude. not that he minds. (bandages universe)

fluff warnings/tags: fem!reader, mentions of reader coming to work from a casual hookup, flirting, lots of teasing, the BAU being silly geese bc this is before all the trauma, insecurities about reader's job performance, spencer wants to be a cyborg, borderline cuddling hehehe a/n: nanana diva is a female version of a hustler (bandages!reader theme song) no but really i just missed them so much lowkey always accepting requests for these two!! I hope you guys likeeee bc i loveee them and also this was based on a request so i hope u see this LOL

As soon as Hotch calls wheels up in thirty you’re slumping forward, resting your head on folded arms. The to-go cup on the round table in front of you has long been emptied but you look at it longingly anyway. 

Morgan chuckles, slapping his folder down on the table next to you. “Aw, look at that. Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“It’s Sunday,” you groan. “It’s seven in the morning. Excuse me for not being ready to carpe the diem.”

“It’s just carpe diem,” Spencer interjects, standing and slipping his file into his bag. You sit up and give him the most indignant look you can manage, though it’s hard when you’re this tired and he’s that cute. Slacks. Sweater vest. Button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. An enviable waist. 

“Whose side are you on?”

He frowns, brushing a tuft of shining-clean brown hair out of his eyes. 

“If I was on anyone’s side other than my own it would cease to be their side. We’re all always on our own sides.”

“No, you’re on my side. Defend me.”

His brows only dart up and he looks back down to his bag. It’s a look you know well. Don’t get me involved. 

Morgan spins in his chair to face you, one elbow resting on the table. 

“I’m just saying, if this is your Sunday morning, I’d love to see your Saturday night, little miss forty five minutes late.”

“You heard Hotch say he called me half an hour earlier than everyone else. It was technically fifteen,” you frown. “And I… was at church.”

Rossi gestures at you with his coffee cup. “You step foot in a church, your shoes are going to start smoking.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Wow. I thought old people were supposed to be sweet. Come on, Spencer.”

Spencer knows better than to put up a fight as you get up and grab him by the hand not holding onto your cup and folder, dragging him to the bullpen to sit at your desk until the team is ready to go. 

He stands in front of you, hands in pockets, as you plop into your own chair. “I… can’t tell if you’re actually mad.”

“I am. At you. For not being on my side.”

Spencer sets his bag down and leans against the adjacent desk, arms folded. You stopped caring a long time ago if he’d notice you ogling the long, lithe lines of him. Maybe you never really cared, if you’re being honest with yourself. He’s a little harder to scandalize these days, anyway. But you’ll never stop trying. 

He bites his lip thoughtfully. 

“If you’re mad at me, why am I the one you dragged down here?”

“I’m not taking questions, Reid.”

He hisses. “Ouch. Reid.”

“Mhm. That’s how mad I am.”

“Okay, grouchy. Do you want a refill?”

You borderline pout, continuously perplexed by his kindness in the face of your insolence, but holding out your hollow cup for him anyway as you slouch lower in your seat. 

“Don’t call me grouchy.”

“Then don’t call me Reid,” he says, taking your cup as he passes, and you think you sense the faintest wash of amusement coloring his tone. 

The jet doesn’t do much to put pep in your step. 

“Aberdeen,” Morgan muses, letting his file closed on his lap. “Isn’t that where, uh, Kurt Cobain grew up?”

Spencer sits down in the chair next to you, setting the day’s third cup of coffee in front of you on the small table. “It is. It’s also where Washington’s first suspected serial killer William Gohl resided.”

“First of many,” Rossi amends. Reid nods. 

“In the US, Washington State comes in fifth place in terms of serial killers per capita. Some blame a widespread vitamin D deficiency. Just under eight hours of sunlight in the winter, the least in the contiguous United States.”

Emily gives an abhorrent rendition of a famous Nirvana riff, imitating a twangy electric guitar, before gesturing to your boss. “Hotch, you’re from Seattle. Did you ever get into Nirvana? The whole grunge scene?”

Hotch lowers his folder, giving her an unimpressed look. “Did you?”

While the exchange is amusing, the coffee is not perking you up and you’d like to be slightly less upright, if possible. You bump Spencer’s knee with your own, and he looks over at you obediently. 

“What’s up?”

“I wanna move to the couch.”

He nods and gets right back up. When you pass, and he doesn’t immediately follow, you turn around. Maybe the lack of sleep has rendered you unable to hide your look of contempt as he tries to sit back down. 

“What are you doing?”

Morgan snorts. “Uh oh. Lapdog almost forgot his training.”

“I am not a lapdog,” Spencer defends, giving Morgan a harsh look of his own, before following you, much to the amusement of the rest of the BAU. 

“Don’t listen to them,” you mutter as you step aside to let him pass. 

He settles into the corner of the couch. “I almost never do.” When you cozy up next to him, he seems surprised. “Um, hi?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm.”

“This is… unprofessional.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Oh my god. They don’t care.”

That’s enough to shut him up. Eventually he relaxes, and though he doesn’t put his arm around you (they remain crossed in front of him) he doesn’t seem too distraught over the way you’re leaning against him, head on his shoulder. The sky is a soft grey where you can see it through the little rectangles lining the far wall, like a pale tea with plenty of milk. 

“What’s up with you, anyway?” He asks eventually, gingerly, and though he’s bold to ask it you know the last thing he means to do is offend. Luckily for him, he’s your soft spot. You let your eyes flutter shut against the boxes of diffuse light. 

“Tired.”

“I know that. You’ve had three cups of coffee and you’re still about to fall asleep.”

“Well… that’s all it was.”

“Mhm.”

“God, you’re—” you lift your head, about to give him a good old fashioned verbal lashing, but he’s so sweet looking, and he’s so kind to you even when he’s not, that you deflate—all your air coming out on a sigh as you settle back against him. “I… was… not home, when Hotch called me.”

“Yeah, you said you were at church?” He sounds utterly bewildered. Your heart melts, and you can’t hide the fondness seeping from every pore as you look up at him through your lashes. He really is so beautiful. 

“That was a joke, Spence. I was with a friend.”

His brows knit and a faint blush tinges his cheeks. 

“Oh. I knew that.”

And he really is getting better at detecting your brand of sarcasm. One day you doubt you’ll be able to pull any over on him, and he’ll stop being so adorable and bashful and embarrassed and sweet all the time. You don't relish the thought.

“What were you doing this morning?” You ask, in a bid to quell the very embarrassment you covet, because you’re not actually a demon, despite what Rossi had implied earlier. 

“Sleeping.”

You hum. Imagine taking his hand. Don’t really take it. 

“Me ’nd you should hang out outside of work more often.”

“Like… in the mornings?”

“Uh, probably not,” you laugh, your own face heating at the implication he’s only sort of and undoubtedly accidentally making. “I mean—we could. We could have breakfast sometimes.”

“I like breakfast,” he muses. “I know a couple of good spots. I can show you when we get back. There are these ube pancakes that are like bright purple on the inside. Have you had ube? I think you’d like them. The pancakes and the tuber. They’re the same color as your laptop case.”

You giggle, too tired for anything more dignified and too charmed for anything less authentic. Spencer has a moment of apparent self-awareness and after a second chuckles along with you, and like 99% of your moments with him, it’s a nice one. 

It slowly fades, and you sigh. 

“We’d probably get called in right in the middle of breakfast.”

“It’s always a possibility,” Spencer agrees, and you feel him nod. He smells really nice—clean and sort of cedar-y. Warm. 

“You ever think about how we’re just… robot arms to do the bidding of the federal government? We’re not even people. We’re cyborgs.”

“I’d love to be a cyborg.”

“But then you wouldn’t be so warm and comfy.”

“If I were a cyborg I could install a heating element. I’d still be warm. I don’t know about comfy. Maybe if I kept the biomechatronics to one side of my torso.”

“You’d install a heating element just for me? So we could keep cuddling?”

He clears his throat. You smile to yourself. 

“Why are we cyborgs, exactly?”

“Because we don’t get personal lives. The job comes first. I could be doing anything. I could be in the middle of eating bright purple pancakes with my good friend and colleague Spencer Reid and it doesn’t matter. If we get called in we have to leave.”

“If we were in the middle of breakfast, we could just… take our food to go and finish it at our desks.”

“Well—I guess it would be different if it was us, but with my other friends… it’s kind of a bummer, sometimes.”

You’re thinking about the friend you left this morning. Nobody you’re particularly invested in, but you wonder if that friend is still asleep in bed—and you realize you don’t much care. You’re glad to be here, and not there. 

“I think if the job didn’t feel worth it to you, you would’ve left by now. But you haven’t. You can complain all you want, but you show up every day.”

You scoff. 

“Fifteen to 45 minutes late, depending on how you look at it.”

“That is… atypical. You’re usually on time.”

“Usually…” you repeat darkly. A moment passes. An uncomfortable insecurity begins to bloom and ache like a rotting tooth. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Do you think…” you falter, unused to this kind of vulnerability. A cloud swallows the jet and the cabin darkens into a place for secrets. “Do you think I’m worth the trouble?”

You know Spencer senses the unease like a sheepdog can sense a storm from the way he perks up next to you. He’s always been like that—incredibly attuned to the moods of others. You hope he doesn’t think profiling is just another of many learned skills. It’s a genuine talent, a sort of savantism in its own right. You can’t imagine him doing anything else as passionately as he does his job. Sometimes it almost makes you insecure. 

“What trouble?”

“Like… Hotch having to call me half an hour earlier than he calls the rest of the team. Or you, accepting my constant teasing. I know I’m—I can be kind of a diva. I don’t always really feel as professional as you guys. Or… qualified, maybe.”

You can imagine the way he’d narrow his eyes as he thinks this over, though you’d still like to see it for yourself—but you keep your head on his shoulder. In a way, he’s already getting a closer look at you than you usually grant to anyone. 

“I think… you’re good at your job. And you care more than you’d like to admit. That thing you do—where you sometimes show up a few minutes late, or you piss Rossi off on purpose, or you flirt with Hotch—I think… we all have things like that. We all self-sabotage, because it’s a really hard job, and I think we all wonder if we’re really qualified for it, or deserve to be in these positions, or if we even want the responsibility of trying to save people’s lives. But you’re a genuinely good person and a gifted profiler. And everyone else knows it, too.”

The deep thrum of the jet’s engine blurs the rest of the team’s incomprehensible chatting and the pounding of your heart into one big muddied streak of paint. Hopefully Spencer can’t feel the heat of your cheek through his shirtsleeve. 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

A moment passes. 

It’s a relief when Spencer’s anxiety comes bubbling up before your own can. “Sorry, was that too much?”

“No,” you hurry, “no, it was—no. That was really really nice of you to say. Thank you, Spencer.”

He relaxes. “Well… it’s all true.”

How could anyone ever deserve him? How does anyone get lucky enough to know a man like Spencer Reid?

When you burst through the other side of the cloud, the sun has come out. It burns away the milky early morning fog and makes your eyes ache just enough to finally wake you up. You blink and stretch against him like a cat. 

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“I just want to clarify… I don’t flirt with Hotch. I flirt with you.”

[bluebellhairpin]

:/ feeling like I'm not doing enough for other fic writers, since when I read fics i reblog them but don't really add comments, but then I think back to literally a few weeks ago where I'd read fics and then do nothing at all unless I knew the author or I really had something to say about what I read. I'm slowing getting better, bc rebloging without comments is better than not reblogging at all.