#tails the silly guy…. I love him

[yippee-optimistically]

broppy 😿 trolls 3 was sooo good i spent like 5 hours watching all the movies back to back and you should too

bonus bruce ↓

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Recently finished these cards for The Neon Void so here are the bois :D

I heard that spades generally represent rebirth/death and just ran with it, not sure if it's at all accurate but they turned out pretty decent so it's fineeeeee. Also made them into stickers so I get to slpa that onto anything I want and have TNV merch B) currently Mickey extists on my computer I would so buy merch if you were to ever make it, I friggen love this fic >:DDD (no pressure to do so tho, I'll just pump out sickers to slap on everything I own)

I don't think I've drawn anyone exept Leo yet so I hope I did them justice :D

Keep doing what you're doing cuz your doing great, and have an amazing rest of your day! :)

WAAAAA THESE ARE SO NEAT????? OMG

love love love each of them and how Leo is crawling out of his card SO COOL 😭💗💘🩵‼️

and omg that's so sweet you'd want merch, but i don't think i'd ever go that far haha

[the-last-quest]

While Nine isn’t the same as Tails something they have in common is their love for mint.

But like most things their experiences with it were very different.

[2152 words]

Tucked away in an alley a small kit winced as he tried to hide himself away from the glaring eyes and harsh fists that the city was filled with. He had already had an unpleasant encounter earlier in the day, and while not being the worst he’d experienced he was still left with a throbbing ankle and the taste of blood in his mouth.

His ears perked up as he heard faint footsteps heading towards the alley. He pressed himself against the wall as much as he could, eyes squeezed shut. He tried to quiet his breathing but as the footsteps drew nearer it picked up as his thoughts began to race. ‘What if the same cat from earlier came back for more? What if he doesn't stop after a few hits this time? What if he brought others to help him? What if-’

“Are you alright dear?” A female voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.

He waited for a moment before opening his eyes to look at the owner of the voice, an older red cat lady who seemed to be concerned for him. He didn’t answer her, knowing she hadn't noticed why he was in this state. He knew he needed to be ready for when she did, for when her kindness would turn to attacks that he was far too used to. He watched as her eyes scanned over his small frame, the exact moment she noticed obvious to the fox as her face changed from a look of concern to one of disgust.

He flinched at the change of expression and curled into himself, eyes screwed shut again, he didn’t think that she would hurt him, but one can never be too trusting in this city. Anticipating an incoming impact he didn’t see what the lady was doing. He was about to look up again when something came flying towards him, just barely missing. He braced himself for more, but none came. The only thing he heard was the sounds of footsteps fading away,

Only after the sound had long faded into the distance did the kit open his eyes again. He peeked out of the alley looking both ways down the road. It was empty now as it was getting later, less people venturing out of their homes. As he returned to the safety of the alley something on the floor caught his eye.

It looked to be a candy of some sort. He picked up the candy and held onto it as he dragged himself to the end of the alley, ignoring the shooting pain that came from his ankle. Despite it being late he didn’t want to have an interaction like that again. In the safety of the back of the alley he sat against the wall ready to settle in for the night.

He opened his paw to examine the candy the lady had thrown at him. He had never seen anything like it before. It was a remnant of before the chaos council took over, the small treat lacking any of the council’s usual obnoxious packaging, instead wrapped in a thin clear plastic, the green and white swirl intrigued him. He wondered if he could trust the candy. The cat didn’t seem to have malicious intent, leaving the fox to his own devices for the most part, but she obviously didn’t care for him. As he stared at the candy in his paw, pondering whether or not he should eat it his stomach let out a low rumble. He bit his lip, the candy wouldn’t help his hunger much, but at the moment he would take anything he could get.

With shaking fingers he cautiously unwrapped the plastic wrapper. Taking the candy up to his nose he took a small sniff of it.

He coughed, not expecting how strong it was. The scent made its way through his nostrils down to his mouth, the flavor ghosting in his mouth. It gave his mind something else to focus on. It distracted him from the taste of copper in his mouth, even with just the faint flavor from the scent.

‘This could be useful in the future.’ He thought while he lowered the candy to look over it again. The attack from today wasn’t that bad compared to others he had in the past, and he’s certain he’d have worse ones in the future. It would be a good idea to hold on to the candy for later, to have a distraction. He grabbed the plastic to wrap the candy up when his stomach growled again.

His eyes glanced from his stomach to the candy. ‘It won’t do anything, save it for later.’ The rational part of his mind told him. ‘Save it for later, it'll be more useful then.’ But that didn’t take away the situation he was in right now. He was hurt, hungry and tired and tucked away in a cold alley in the city and right now that small candy, while not being able to fix any of that, could take his mind off of it.

He popped the candy into his mouth.

Just like when he smelled it the taste overwhelmed his senses. He never had something that strong before and in this moment that was all he needed. As he got used to the flavor he leaned his head back onto the metal walls of the city. Right now he didn’t care about the state he was in, he just focused on the flavor hanging in his mouth. He focused on it instead of the throbbing pain coming from his ankle. He focused on it instead of the difficulty he had breathing. He focused on it instead of the ever growing emptiness of his stomach.

On the streets of New Yoke the fox focused on the flavor of the candy for as long as he could.

——————————-

Many things had happened after that night in the alley.

The young fox grew older and more tired of the attacks he endured in the city. He built himself mechanical tails to protect him, along with giving himself a name.

He distanced himself from others in the city, none of them cared for him so why should he care for them. He grew cold as he focused on surviving.

Then a blue hedgehog had broken into his bunker and turned his life upside down.

He learned many things from the hedgehog. He learned of friendship and care. Of hope and heartbreak.

After everything he was left in a state worse than before. In a castle that represented his rage as he lashed out against the shatterverse, with no long term hope to survive, and with a corner that he couldn’t bear to look at.

As he stood and looked at the green portal in the distance he decided this wasn’t going to be the end of the story.

——————————-

It was nighttime in Green Hill. A large moon casted its light onto two figures walking along the grass.

Sonic and Nine moved in silence. The hedgehog had just found the fox in the cave where the prism had lied. It was a rough reunion with neither of them expecting it, but each of them having something they needed to say to the other. With emotions running high and both of them becoming exhausted it had been cut short when Sonic had offered Nine to stay for the night, for both of them to get rest and clear their mind so they wouldn’t run themselves dry. Nine was hesitant until the hedgehog had mentioned that Tails wasn’t going to be in their shared home for the day so they could deal with one thing at a time.

The two reached the house that Sonic and Tails shared. Sonic opened the door and held it open for Nine with a weak smile. Nine didn’t return the smile, but the small nod he gave as he walked through the door made the hedgehog’s smile grow just a little.

As Nine walked in and waited for Sonic to lock the door behind them his eyes were drawn to a small bowl of candies on a table next to the door. They were the same candies that the lady had given to him years and years ago, a candy that he never thought he would have again.

Sonic must have noticed him looking at the bowl as he let out a quiet amused chuckle. “Those are Tails’ mints. He has them out in case he’s had a bad day and needs one as soon as he gets home.” A fond smile formed on his face as he thought of the fox so different yet so similar to the one in front of him. “You can take one if you want.” He offered. Nine thought it was some sort of olive branch to release the tension the two had between them. He glanced at the hedgehog and back to the bowl of candies and decided to take one, as long as it made Sonic happy.

There was another silence between the two, much lighter and much shorter than before as Sonic spoke up again.

“Come on, room’s this way.” He said with a gesture to follow him.

Nine followed Sonic as he brought him further into the house. When they reached a hallway Sonic stopped at the first door and pushed it open for Nine silently.

As Nine stepped into the room he looked over the interior. It was simple, being an obviously very underused guest room, the only furniture being a bed and a side table and a lamp. It had very minimal decoration and looked like it had been untouched since the bed was brought in.

Sonic sheepishly scratched the back of his head, “It’s nothing much but-“

“Thank you” Nine interrupted with a small murmur, looking up at Sonic, a light ghosting on his face. While the room wasn’t much to look at it was still better than any of the ones he had back in the city. Even with all his decorations it couldn’t hide the cold metal that made up the space. This room, even while being barren, gave Nine a sense of comfort that he had never had in his one space.

Sonic returned the smile and placed his hand on Nine’s shoulder giving it a small squeeze. “Get some sleep okay kid? I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

Sonic exited the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Nine rubbed his hand down his face wearily as he made his way to the bed and plopped himself onto it. He opened up his other hand which contained the ‘mint’ as Sonic had called it. The green and white swirl taunted him as his mind raced with thoughts

In the back of his mind he cursed at having another similarity to Tails. Another part cursed about his counterpart having easier access to the candy if the bowl full of them was anything to go by while he had only had the treat once in his life.

And yet another quieter part of him reminded him of why he liked the candy so much, of how he got his first taste. If the two were really that similar could Tails have been introduced to it in the same situation? Could it be a comfort for the other fox as well?

Letting his thoughts fade away, Nine unwrapped the mint. Holding it in between his fingers he brought it up to his nose and took a sniff of it.

The scent had a similar effect as the first time, traveling up his nose and into his mouth, the flavor bringing him comfort as it had so long ago. Along with the comfort the scent brought back memories of a time he longed to forget. Being hurt and alone, with the only comfort being an act of pity that didn’t even last.

But right now he wasn’t alone. Past the door he could still hear soft footfalls that belonged to a certain blue hedgehog. A hedgehog who had cared for him since they first met. Even when he realized that Nine was different than he initially thought it didn’t waver. Even after showing him the ugliest sides of himself and nearly destroying everything the hedgehog had ever loved, he opened his door for the fox to stay in.

The rational part of his brain told him he didn’t need the mint. He was safe right now and should save it for when he really needed it. Just as he did before he didn’t listen to it. Sure he was safe right now he didn't need the mint, but he wanted it. Plus they weren’t in short supply either so he didn’t have to hold onto it forever.

Nine popped the mint in his mouth.

It tasted exactly like he remembered it.

[holidaybrews]

bro is NOT beating the silly goofy allegations

[chuckiescrafts]

The initial first rough sketches of the teen version of my little cringe DC OC baby.

My little Guy Gardner baby.

I love Buddy.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Yes, I'm dropping part 1 of a silly mini fic series at 11 p.m. No one ask. I really dk why.

"Sonic's Weird Napping Places"

Part 1 - Tails

(since it's canon that Sonic naps in weird places :3)

"Hey, Knuckles, have you seen Sonic?" Tails asked over his communicator.

"Why would I have seen him?" Knuckles' tired and grouchy voice questioned back. Tails cringed a little, wondering if he'd accidentally woken the echidna from a nap with his call. "He doesn't typically visit Angel Island without you and the Tornado. He can't even get up here."

"Just a simple question," Tails grumbled. "I can't find him or get ahold of him. Thanks anyway."

Knuckles hung up without saying goodbye.

Rolling his eyes, the two-tailed fox turned off the screen of his communicator and glanced around. He'd just needed to ask Sonic where something was, something that he'd lent him a week ago or so and hadn't yet gotten back. Sonic had said he'd only need the tool for a day or two, but he was pretty spacey, and had probably just forgotten to bring it back.

Except he couldn't find Sonic anywhere. Sure, it was hard to keep track of him when he was constantly travelling around and running literal laps around the entire planet for fun, but this was what communicators were for, right?!

He guessed Sonic's communicator had either died, or Sonic had shut it down.

Tails couldn't continue working on his current project (among at least 50 others that were temporarily set aside) until he got that tool back, so he resorted to checking places that he knew his brother liked to relax at here and there. On the roof of his lab? Nope. At Amy's house? Nada. On one of the sun chairs at the local pool? No.

And Angel Island was already a no as well, according to Knuckles . . .

He was wandering back and forth in the yard in front of his lab, pondering where else Sonic might be, when he suddenly heard the sound of soft snores coming from within the top leafy branches of one of the nearby trees.

No way.

Tails lifted off into the air and flew over to the spot in the tree where the familiar noises were coming from. Sure enough, slumped on one of the branches and almost entirely hidden behind the mass of leaves was Sonic, sound asleep.

"Sonic!" Tails yelled, not bothering to be quiet, and his brother jolted awake so fast he nearly toppled out of the tree.

Upon regaining his senses and realizing what was going on, Sonic blinked a couple times at Tails. "Wassup?" he asked sleepily, closing his eyes again as he yawned and tried to get comfortable again.

"Have you been up here this whole time?" Tails demanded.

Sonic blinked again. "Define 'this whole time'."

"Uh, the past two hours?!"

His brother gave up trying to regain his previous comfortable position and sat up on the tree branch, glancing around as if trying to figure out what time it was. "Maybe. I didn't check the time before. What do you need?"

"That tool I lent you a week ago. I need it back." Tails shook his head in slight disbelief. "How is that even comfortable?"

"You'd be surprised." Sonic grinned. "Anyway, yeah, sorry for forgetting the tool, lil bro. I'll just go grab it for ya." Without another word he hopped off the branch, hit the ground after a solid second of falling, and took off in a blast.

Another second passed before he reappeared, the tool in hand, just as Tails was touching back down. "Here ya go!"

And then he was off again, no doubt searching for another place to continue his afternoon nap.

Tails shook his head with a grin and a sigh. Sonic was weird. But that wasn't really a bad thing.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Hrghhh

I love Childe, he was my first five star and his foul legacy design is so cool raghh. Your scenario where reader also has a transformation similar to foul legacy is rotting in my brain, just imagining Childe going bonkers if reader lifts him up cause he’s just, not used to it.

Or expanding on Zhongli’s relationship with them, he’s just living with these giant abyss creatures that are both surprisingly cuddly. He gets pounced on as soon as he returns to their home, stuck in their arms for the rest of the day.

Arghh I love Childe so much, I just needed to ramble. He’s rotting my brain, the silly ginger.

you 🤝 me silly ginger Harbinger thoughts

you absolutely can pick him up, your favorite method being lifting from under his arms so he hangs like a bewildered cat, mouth agape and exposing his fangs from shock. not only does he look adorable like this, you can also easily pull him closer for a tight hug, resting your chin on top of his head and purring happily. Foul Legacy's unused to being held since he's usually so much bigger than everyone and he's also incredibly touch starved, so whenever you hug him he just melts into your arms, letting out small whines and getting as close as he possibly can (he might've cried the first few times but he'll never admit it)

Zhongli is very much in the role of ultimate friend for both you and Childe. whenever he gets home you both perk up and look at each other mischievously before running over to greet the ex-Archon. Zhongli might be strong but he doesn't have the heart to push away two cuddly Abyss monsters, especially when you both seem so happy to see him. evenings are often spent sitting on the couch together, you and Childe curled up in a soft, sleepy pile with Zhongli slight off to the side, where he can work but you can still see him. more often than not he ends up being pulled into the pile when one of you decides that he's worked enough for the night- it's like living with two sweet, snuggly cats that happen to be twice his height!

[eeveekitti]

i love this stupid emo furry i made when i was 11...... aiden my beloved

[sysig]

Cat wearing clothes (Patreon)

[the-acid-pear]

Need to finish my Dave design so I can draw him with Mori

[marstelid]

he is NOT listening!!!! + more of a stylistic tails

[0p1er0]

*throws this messy scribble at you and runs*

*heavy breathing*

You

You draw my boi

Then RUN???!!!

NO GET BACK HERE AND TAKE MY PRAISE!

RAAAAH!!!!

[cryptidcalling]

My most recent Vesper drawings compared to the very OG adopt I bought from Lazette-Menhir on Deviant art almost two years ago now! It took me a while to really focus on and develop him but I love him very dearly <3

[infizero]

oh yeah i finally watched season 2 of sonic prime today

[emile-hides]

Ayo me again

I can’t recommend the game Persona 4 highly ENOUGH ig, but as someone who also loves bears and silly little Guys, I know you would dig the game and a specific character a lot.

Unfortunately it’s kinda one of those games a la DR where you can’t look up absolutely ANYTHING because everything is a spoiler and every character has an arc, but in summary it follows the player character and his ragtag friend group over the course of a year in high school, and a bunch of bizarre supernatural murders start taking place in town, and you and your friends set about solving what’s going on and working towards putting an end to it, with the help of new friends and your own supernatural powers along the way.

There’s also multiple romance routes if you decide you wanna date, and the whole game is very very good and has a lot of heartfelt moments

THIS THING'S A BEAR?????

[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.”