(that tag is quite accurate now that i think of it)

9

i was tagged by @bezocr, @mxrcusflint and @deanthomasfinnigan to make a personal moodboard!
it’s so grey omg but honestly that’s how i think so it’s pretty accurate tbh. it’s also been colour edited all on my phone so some of it is v blurry now welp
i’m not tagging anyone specific, but pls feel free to take this a tag if you want to do this, and please tag me if you do do this!!

“You know, this is extremely unfair,” Reid says. “Hotch gets stabbed nine times. And he’s up and walking around like it never happened a month later. I take one measly little bullet and I’m on crutches for the rest of my life.“ 

Derek is just barely keeping his smile confined to one traitorously twitching corner of his mouth, lips pressed hard together. Dr. Spencer Reid, boy genius, brilliant profiler, tough-as-nails survivor, is whining like a little kid who didn’t get dessert. "It’s not forever, Reid. And that bullet wasn’t exactly measly." 

"So it dislocated my patella, whatever,” Reid mutters. Derek can’t quite hold back a snort of laughter, but he thinks he does an admirable job of disguising it as a cough. 

“Did you just say ‘whatever’ to me?”

Reid just scowls and swipes a crutch at Derek. The kid normally can’t aim for anything, but he’s dead accurate now, the metal slapping into the back of Derek’s knee and nearly sending him to the floor. When Derek gapes at him, Reid sniffs primly and hobbles away, head high. Derek hadn’t thought it was possible to strut while limping, but the kid manages it anyways.

“I’m gonna go drink some coffee and take a few Tylenol,” he says loftily. “When you’re ready to apologize to me for your rudeness, come find me.”

“Apologize to you?” Derek squawks. “You just tried to break my leg!”

“Oh good, we’ll match.”

Derek can hear him snickering to himself all the way down the hall.