#c/riminal m/inds

[sleptwithinthesun]

hi! i saw that you write for criminal minds, which i LOVE! would you be willing to write spencer, sneezing in the snow and morgan taking care of him? thanks!

sjkdhf yeah!! this is really short b/c i'm tired and have to leave for a trip in a couple of hours and also just pounded out another fic so. still, please accept and enjoy 0.4K words :)

Their most recent case takes them halfway across the country to Colorado, this time. More specifically, Steamboat Springs, which is a known skiing and snowboarding town. Even more specifically, the BAU is heading out in the dead of winter, when it's consistently around twenty degrees and they're trudging through the snow.

"How the hell does a serial killer even work in this kind of weather?" JJ asks, gritting her teeth together to keep them from chattering as she draws her jacket tighter around herself. "It's freezing."

Instinctively, Morgan turns to Reid, expecting him to chime in with some statistic about how many serial killers are actually active in the winter or something like that, but to his surprise, the kid stays completely silent. He's gritting his teeth, too, but he's actually shaking against the winter air they're in.

"You alright?" he murmurs, sidling closer as Hotch and Rossi start discussing the details of the case with JJ. They're heading to the hotel, all hoping for a single night of rest before they have to be out in the snow tomorrow trying to piece their UnSub together. What Morgan would give to be Garcia right now, back in Quantico and tucked up in a nice, warm, office.

Reid takes a second to actually process the question, but he glances over at Morgan once he does. "What? Oh, no, I'm fine. Just cold." The smile he gives Morgan is tight, and dissolves entirely as he turns into his elbow to let loose on a light couple of sneezes. "it'sch! ish-ish'uh! ischh!"

"Bless," Morgan says, placing a stabilizing hand on his shoulder as he straightens up again, sniffling, his nose already tinted pink by the biting winds. "You sure you're okay, Reid?"

"Just the cold," he repeats, shuffling slightly closer to Morgan to leech off of his body heat. "I'll be much happier once we're in the hotel and out of the snow."

He laughs a bit at that, his breath clouding in the air in front of him. "You and me both, Reid."

Reid tucks himself even closer to Morgan's side, and that's when he actually starts to worry. "Hey," he says, voice soft.

"Hey," Reid mumbles back, then immediately sneezes again. "it'shuu! tshh!"

"Bless," he says again. "What's got you all irritated, huh?"

Reid hums to himself for a moment, oblivious to the way they've fallen slightly behind the rest of their team. Hotch glances back while Reid's busy sneezing, brows furrowing in a silent question. He okay?

I've got him, Morgan communicates tacitly, with nothing more than a head tilt towards Reid and a moment of eye contact. Hotch relaxes and turns back around just as Reid looks back up. "Think it's just the change in temperature from the car to the outside," he says. "I should be fine when we make it back inside."

"If you say so," Morgan says, smiling when Reid shoves him lightly. "Come on, Sneezy, let's catch back up."

#askbox #promptfic #c/riminal m/inds snzfic #snzfic #c/riminal m/inds #s/pencer r/eid #d/erek m/organ #b/au t/eam #swts fic

[brandnewcouch]

here’s some sick, soft emily prentiss for your evening. i usually hate her with mendoza, but for some reason this was working for me 🐻‍❄️

——

“Thank you for staying home with me,” Emily sniffled as she rested her head on her boyfriend’s torso.

“You’re welcome. I can’t believe I convinced you to call off.”

“Me neither. I think I’m going soft.”

Andrew chuckled and ran his fingers through her hair. She let out a congested sigh and nuzzled her head into his chest.

“I didn’t know you get this cuddly when you’re sick,” he grinned.

“Mmpphh,” she attempted to hum, but she was too congested for the sound to come out properly. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to ruin your badass reputation,” he joked. “But, for the record, I think you’re always a badass, even like this.”

“Please,” she said as she sat up. “I’m a complete mess. I feel bad you have to see me like this.”

“Like what? A person? Everyone gets sick, Em. You don’t have to feel bad.”

“I know, but we’ve only been together for a few months-“

“Nope,” he cut her off. “It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together. You’re my girlfriend, and I want to take care of you. Got it?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled. Emily wrapped her arms around him and curled in on herself.

“Comfy?”

“You’re warm,” she murmured before coughing into his chest.

“Says the one with a fever.”

“Shut up,” she said softly. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer. Her nose brushed against his neck, setting off the tickle that had been plaguing her sinuses all morning.

“Huhh- hUH’KTXXGghh! Nn’HHNNGgg!”

“Bless you,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “I’ve never heard you sound this stuffed up.”

Before she could respond, her phone started ringing. She went to grab it, but Andrew reached it first.

“I’ll answer it,” he said. He glanced over at her in anticipation of the inevitable protest, but she stayed quiet. He frowned, knowing the compliance meant she really didn’t feel well.

“Prentiss’ phone,” he answered. He immediately pulled the phone away from his ear as he was met with high pitched screaming.

“Oh my god, which one of them is it?” Emily groaned after seeing his reaction. “Put it on speaker.” He obliged, and the voice of Garcia began streaming out.

“I told you! I told you! Didn’t I tell you, Newbie?”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me.”

“Penelope, what the hell is going on?” she asked weakly.

“Yikes, you don’t sound so hot, Boss,” Luke commented.

“Luke!”

“What? She doesn’t!”

“Guys,” Emily interrupted them. “Why did you call me?”

“Oh, right!” Garcia exclaimed. “Basically, when I heard you called off, I thought, ‘Aw, I bet Mendoza came over to take care of her’. I mean, why else would Emily Prentiss of all people take a sick day?”

“To which I said, ‘No way, Prentiss would never let anyone take care of her’,” Luke cut in.

“And you were wrong! HAH!”

“Yeah, yeah, no need to rub it in.”

“Okay, so now that you’ve settled your little argument,” Andrew interrupted. “Can you please leave Em alone so she can get some rest?”

“Oh my goodness! Luke! He called her ‘Em’. That’s so cute!”

“Goodbye, Penelope,” Emily said.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you alone! Feel better, my love. And, Andrew, you better take good care of her. That is a threat.”

“I will, Garcia,” he promised. “Now goodbye. Please don’t call again.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry about that,” she sighed.

“It’s alright… although… should i be scared of Penelope?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Great,” he groaned. “I thought winning over Ambassador Prentiss would be my biggest challenge. Nope, turns out it’s Penelope Garcia.”

Emily laughed lightly. The laugh soon turned into a rattling cough, and Andrew began rubbing her back.

“I wish I could make you feel better,” he said softly, brushing her hair away from her face.

“You can. Just keep holding me,” she whispered.” She sniffled thickly into the crook of his neck.

“Of course. You should try to sleep, Hon.”

“Hihh’EISCHIEWww! Ei’HHTCCHH! Okay.”

#short but fluffy #c/riminal m/inds #e/mily p/rentiss #sickfic #sneezeblr #snzfucker

[softsnzstuff]

rewatching THAT episode of C/riminal M/inds and being all 🥺 about everyone taking care of R/eid

#c/riminal m/inds #s/pencer r/eid

[movedyoakkemae]

SPECIAL  AGENT.  GENIUS.  PRETTY  BOY.

#YOAKKEMAE  ,  private  &  selective  multimuse  ,  written  by  satan  ,  featuring  s/pencer  r/eid  from  c/riminal  m/inds.  non-roleplay  blogs  ,  please  do  not  reblog  !  PSD CREDIT.

#criminal minds rp #criminal minds roleplay #cm rp #cm roleplay #doctor who rp #doctor who roleplay #thank you ash and caboose for the help kisses

[cryptozooliver]

working on oliver’s c/riminal m/inds blog please yes give this a like if you’d like me to follow you from there once it’s ready to go!! <3

#I'M SO EXCITED #★ DEE DECLARES .

[weirdshitandthings]

C/riminal M/inds is underrated. They can profile the fact that you have a fetish!!! Imagine the teasing!!!

Side note if anyone has any content, especially Re/id, I’ll love you forever if you send me some.

#snz kink #snzblr #snezblr #snezario #snz #snez #snzfic

[stapcsarchive]

eight people i’d like to know better

ALIAS/NAME: kayla 

BIRTHDAY: january 13

ZODIAC SIGN: capricorn

HEIGHT: 5′3

HOBBIES: uhhh this, playing around with makeup, binging too much tv too quickly, exploring old places / cemeteries 

FAVORITE COLOR: purple

FAVORITE BOOK: dont make me choose there’s too many :/

LAST SONG: dead man’s party by oingo boingo

LAST FILM/SHOW: c/riminal m/inds

INSPIRATION: pinterest boards, character playlists, watching the show usually does the trick too 

STORY BEHIND URL: ok,,, so, when christine was born the squints didnt know her name so they made a sign that said welcome stapes which is the smallest bone in the human body and stapes was taken so that’s how it became stapcs 

tagged by: i’m a day late and a dollar short but @klarsynt

tagging: you !

#dash games.

[nola-unchained]

✧ ( CRIMINAL  MINDS  SENTENCE  STARTERS.

warning:  death, murder, loss mention. change pronouns to your liking/as you see fit!

❛ Are you a genius or something? ❜ ❛ You look too young to have gotten into medical school. ❜ ❛ When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you. ❜ ❛ Imagination is more important than knowledge. ❜ ❛ Knowledge is limited; imagination encircles the world. ❜ ❛ Your girlfriend thinks you’re going to break up with her.  ❜ ❛ I was a little bit of a nerd. Is that so surprising? ❜ ❛ Do you think it��s weird that I knew that ballad? ❜ ❛ Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date? ❜ ❛ We’re looking for a needle in a haystack. ❜ ❛ I got a list of things I want to try before it’s too late. ❜ ❛ What is food to one, is to others bitter poison. ❜ ❛ Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves. ❜ ❛ If I told you that, what would I have left for myself? ❜ ❛ It is those we live with and love, and should know, who elude us. ❜ ❛ What could you possibly learn that you don’t already know? ❜ ❛ In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years. ❜ ❛ I have other options besides shooting a man. ❜ ❛ The test of the morality of a society is what it does for its children. ❜ ❛ Do you ever ask yourself how you make a decision like that? ❜ ❛ What’s happened to that boy in the year I stopped looking for him? ❜ ❛ I mean, how do you give yourself that kind of permission? ❜ ❛ A year ago, I gave up on looking for him – there were so many other kids. ❜ ❛ Look, I know this job is important to you, but we’re important, too. ❜ ❛ That makes it sound like the bandit’s doing the stripping. ❜ ❛ Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it. ❜ ❛ You tend to forget, don’t you? ❜ ❛ You really are afraid of the dark. ❜ ❛ It’s not so important who starts the game, but who finishes it. ❜ ❛ It’s not really the kind of thing that happens around here, you know? ❜ ❛ Ever talk to someone who wants to continually show you he’s smarter than you?  ❜ ❛ If men could only know each other, they would neither idolize nor hate. ❜ ❛ In order to learn the important lessons in life, one must each day surmount to fear. ❜ ❛ What if it’s not? What if next time he kills somebody? ❜ ❛ All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That’s in the nature of secrets. ❜ ❛ We all have secrets. Would you want us profiling you? ❜ ❛ We all have secrets. ❜ ❛ You trying to say something to me right now. ❜ ❛ Only if you’re hiding something. ❜ ❛ Are you saying I had nothing to do with making you who you are? ❜ ❛ To get away with murder, you simply don’t tell anyone. ❜ ❛ Call me first. I’d love to pick your brains. ❜ ❛ My hope is that one day you’ll feel the way I do too. ❜ ❛ If I ever find myself feeling the way you do, I’ll kill myself. ❜ ❛ Tired of people using religion… to justify the terrible things they do. ❜ ❛ Fantasy abandoned by reason produces impossible monsters. ❜ ❛ An earthly kingdom cannot exist without inequality of persons. ❜ ❛ It is a wise father who knows his own child. ❜ ❛ Within the core of each of us is the child we once were. ❜ ❛ If we knew each other’s secrets, what comforts we should find. ❜ ❛ There are no secrets better kept than the secrets that everybody guesses. ❜ ❛ Reason is not automatic. Those who deny it cannot be conquered by it. ❜ ❛ I think the truly natural things are dreams, which nature can’t touch with decay. ❜ ❛ Let us consider that we are all insane. It will explain us to each other. ❜ ❛ Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely. ❜ ❛ Delay is the deadliest form of denial. ❜ ❛ The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other. ❜ ❛ In youth we learn; in age we understand. ❜ ❛ Fate is not satisfied with inflicting one calamity. ❜ ❛ We all live in a house on fire. No fire department to call, no way out. ❜ ❛ Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win. ❜ ❛ To lose a child is to lose a piece of yourself. ❜ ❛ How many more times will they be able to look into the abyss? ❜ ❛ Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what’s happened that day. ❜ ❛ There is no lasting hope in violence, only temporary relief from hopelessness. ❜ ❛ I’m so sorry for your loss. And if you or your son need anything… ❜ ❛ Life is a game; play it. Life is too precious; do not destroy it. ❜ ❛ If I am what I have and if I lose what I have, who then am I? ❜ ❛ Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive. ❜ ❛ We will find you, you sick son of a bitch! ❜ ❛ Is that another promise? ❜ ❛ Whatever you are, be a good one. ❜ ❛ Without heroes, we are all plain people and don’t know how far we can go. ❜ ❛ I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me. ❜ ❛ I can’t talk you out of this. It’s a great life. ❜ ❛ There is no such thing as part freedom. ❜ ❛ Come near my team and I will end you. ❜ ❛ When I let go of what I am I become what I might be. ❜ ❛ The grave soul keeps its own secrets and takes its own punishment in silence. ❜ ❛ It is not his enemy or foe that lures him to evil ways. ❜ ❛ Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters. ❜ ❛ Bring the past only if you’re going to build from it. ❜ ❛ What it lies in our power to do, it lies in our power not to do. ❜ ❛ Nothing inspires forgiveness quite like revenge. ❜ ❛ You may leave school, but it never leaves you. ❜ ❛ Everybody wants to go to heaven, but no one wants to die. ❜ ❛ Three can keep a secret if two are dead. ❜ ❛ At the gambling table, there are no fathers or sons. ❜ ❛ Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath. ❜ ❛ Nothing fixes a thing so intently in the memory as the wish to forget it. ❜ ❛ All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream. ❜ ❛ Death ends a life, not a relationship.  ❜ ❛ There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it. ❜ ❛ The universe doesn’t like secrets; it conspires to reveal the truth to lead you to it. ❜ ❛ Fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil. ❜ ❛ Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much. ❜ ❛ Forgiveness does not change the past but it does enlarge the future. ❜ ❛ A mother’s arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them. ❜ ❛ The past is never dead. It’s not even past. ❜ ❛ A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it. ❜ ❛ Deep vengeance is the daughter of deep silence. ❜

#unchained:meme #meme weekend

[shesquiinnsane-ar]

@jackofalltrades1937 ❖ lyric sc. (closed)

CRIMINAL MINDS ~ SET IT OFF

Criminal minds try to cloud up your thinking But they're tough to identify And they cut with precision These criminal minds

PLANS IN PROGRESS. Harley wasn’t sure of the last time she pushed her own ideas onto the male. It wasn’t a usual occurrence, she didn’t want to be put down before it started and certainly didn’t want to have him believe she was trying to take control. She wasn’t there for his glory, but to be by his side, as much as he let her be, of course. It wasn’t often she even had an idea, half a plan that might work. But she was starting to think like a criminal, starting to think for herself to show she’d made the right decision and he was right to let her tag along with him. Now she was a part of the underworld she had to prove her place because she knew, if he wanted, he could easily throw her under the bus.

❝ J, I think I may have something. ❞  Her voice was soft, uneasy, clearly nervous but she had to stop thinking so logically, and think like him. Taking a deep breath, Harley placed her rough drawings on the table.  ❝ I found the blueprints to the upgrades to Gotham Bank...and I think I have a way inside now if you were...wanting to exploit their funds further. ❞  Was that a good way of putting it? She didn’t want to sound like he needed the cash, but they could always do with a little more lying around. Right?

#jackofalltrades1937 #WRITTEN REPLIES.{one draft down; harley's on the dash} #V; UNDETERMINED.{harlequins as standard; wreaking havoc is fun} #( this starter call is like 2 months old I'm so sorry I haven't gotten to these sooner )

[stalwxrtconsocixte]

❛ Bring the past only if you’re going to build from it. ❜

CRIMINAL  MINDS  SENTENCE  STARTERS.

“...!”

Watson looks up at the man before him, brooding and distracted expression making way for surprise and he’s quiet for a while, before a warm smile spreads across his face, a tinge of gratitude in his softened eyes. 

As expected as another great detective--Holmes was right. There wasn’t much use dredging up old, painful memories and regrets and not learning, or what the detective had said himself, building from them.

“Yes, you’re right... I may have a ways to go with learning from it, but I think I’m a good percentage of the way there.” He gives a quiet chuckle, then sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“I didn’t mean for my carelessness to interrupt our conversation, though--where were we?”

#YYEEAAH this was fun to write thank you so much Smol! #lmao I think that's the longest ask reply I've ever written #answered asks #{Morning has come} - ic #wisesteyed

[sleptwithinthesun]

jesus fucking christ i'm now aware that i am positively incapable of writing a drabble-length fic. i did not edit this at all so what you see is the product of severe sleep deprivation and a desperate need for serotonin, so i hope you enjoy a healthy 1.0K words of chaos written for s/pencer r/eid from c/riminal m/inds :D

Morgan glances up from his ever-present stack of paperwork as the lights flicker yet again, too exhausted to even try to be annoyed. The BAU had returned from a five-day case in Atlanta barely an hour ago, and in that time, the light rain they flew back into picked up to a severe thunderstorm accompanied by several flash flood warnings, meaning they’re all stuck in Quantico for the time being. 

“What’s that, the fourth time in ten minutes?” Prentiss asks, looking over to Reid for a more accurate number. Her mouth falls open in shock when she actually sees him, however, and her attention rapidly switches to Morgan, searching for confirmation that her eyes aren’t deceiving her. “Wait, is he—” 

The other agent nods sagely. “Sleeping, for once in his life? Yep.” 

“Holy shit,” Prentiss whispers, turning back to the kid. “It’s a miracle.” 

It truly is a sight to behold, their resident genius passed out at his desk. Reid had pulled two consecutive all-nighters trying to get ahead of their unsub, brain working overtime on the case. He was barely conscious on the plane ride back; it’s really not a surprise that he’s crashing now. The real kicker is that there isn’t a mug of coffee on his desk, signaling that he didn’t even attempt to stay awake before surrendering to the wills of his body. 

“What I would give to be Penelope Garcia right now,” Morgan sighs, a wistful expression crossing his face as he leans back in his chair. “Back at home, finally in my own bed…” 

Prentiss makes a sympathetic, albeit slightly mocking, noise in the back of her throat. “Yeah, don’t we all. I just wish they’d dim the lights a little, make it seem a little less like the middle of the day.” 

And it’s at that moment, the second the words leave Emily’s lips, that the power goes out. 

All of it, gone in an instant, plunging the bullpen and surrounding offices into complete, utter, darkness. There’s a brief second of stillness before Morgan turns to her, eyes wide, and whispers, “What did you just do?” 

“N-Nothing, I didn’t— I didn’t do anything,” Prentiss stammers. “The lights just… went out. It was a coincidence.” She’s saved from having to defend herself any further by the sound of JJ stepping into the room, who cases the three of them before letting out a tired sigh, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Not that it matters, really, since no one can see anything. 

“Wake Reid up; we’re moving to Hotch’s office,” she informs them. At Morgan’s raised brow and Prentiss’s quizzical look, she adds, “Just trying not to lose track of anyone. You never know.” 

They nod in acquiesce, standing in almost perfect sync. Morgan fumbles his way over to Reid’s desk, accidentally slapping the kid on the shoulder in the process. On the bright side, it wakes him up. On the not-so-bright side, though, it startles Reid, and he comes up swinging. 

“Woah! It’s just me, Reid, it’s Morgan,” he says, and though he can’t see the kid, Morgan can still imagine his face. His hair is undoubtably mussed up in a loose approximation of a halo around his head, eyes wide with shock. Likely a bit of fear, too, considering that he never really was comfortable with the dark. “It’s alright, the power just went out.” 

“We’re heading up to Hotch’s office for company,” Prentiss adds, obviously picking up on the tension. Her hand fishes backwards, eventually making contact with the youngest member of their team, and she grabs his fingers. Morgan takes the other, and they follow the shadowy outline of JJ towards the stairs. Navigating is a tricky task, but they eventually make it through and are greeted by the beam of a flashlight. 

Reid drops their hands once it registers, pressing a knuckle firmly under his nose before sneezing softly. “ht’shuu!” 

“Salud,” Rossi calls from inside the room, the door now open, courtesy of JJ. They file in, Prentiss sitting with Rossi on the couch while JJ leans against the wall. Morgan simply sits on the floor, tugging Reid down next to him. Hotch hands them each a flashlight, face softening when he sees the weariness on all of their expressions, his own barely concealed. 

Reid hums his appreciation, already starting to slump in on himself. Morgan wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to his body. There’s a beat of silence between the six of them, then half of the flashlights click on, immediately followed by Reid sneezing again, face buried in his sleeve. 

“What’s that called again?” Prentiss asks. “The reflex thing?” 

“Mm… photic,” Reid murmurs, repositioning himself so that he’s leaning heavily into Morgan, as if the exhaustion is a physical thing, weighing him down. He’s still half-asleep, moving like someone’s put him on a slower setting. 

The older agent chuckles softly, the vibration passing though his chest to where Spencer’s now practically draped across him. “I forgot about that little quirk of yours,” he says, grinning. 

“Sorry if I’m a little out of the loop here, but what’s the Boy Wonder talking about?” Rossi’s puzzlement is written on his face, clear as day, even with the deep shadows the angles of the flashlight beams are adding to his face. 

“The photic sneeze reflex,” JJ supplies helpfully. “Basically, Reid sneezes anytime there’s a sudden source of light. It’s kind of adorable, actually.” 

He looks at the flashlight in his hand, considering. “So if I do this—” 

“h’shuu! it’shhiew!” 

Rossi nods, pointing the light back away from Reid’s face. “Good to know.” 

The kid’s still hitching, breath stuttering in his chest. His hand hovers in front of his face, and he shudders forward with a final, quiet, “ishoo!” 

“Bless you,” Hotch murmurs, casting a stern look towards Rossi. “Maybe we don’t test it out any further.” 

“’S okay,” Reid interjects. “It’s not like the power’s going to come back anytime soon, and besides, there’s a refractory period that can last up to twenty-four hours. It doesn’t matter if we try to trigger it or not at this point; it’ll happen regardless.” He sniffles softly, and Morgan squeezes his shoulder in a small gesture of comfort. 

#c/riminal m/inds snzfic #snzfic #c/riminal m/inds #s/pencer r/eid #d/erek m/organ #j/ennifer j/areau #swts fic

[brandnewcouch]

a snz thought i’ve had about c/rininal m/inds

erica messer said part of prentiss’ personal storyline this season is her struggling to cope with bailey’s death.

paget has tweeted that prentiss is in the field so much this season they needed to buy her special pants and shoes.

paget also replied to a tweet asking if the reason prentiss is in the field so much and her hair isn’t done in photos is because she’s neglecting to take care of herself and carelessly throwing herself into danger as an unhealthy coping mechanism with “no comment.” (that 100% means yes when it comes to her)

with all of that being said, i’m picturing an exhausted, congested emily prentiss who barely registers that she’s sick. scratchy voice, sore throat, and a relentless drippy, itchy nose that she completely ignores because all she can think about is her next reckless decision. the team gives her worried glances with each muffled cough and stuffy sneeze, but nobody has the balls to bring it up to their boss. except rossi, of course, but prentiss is stubborn as hell and he gets nowhere. it gets to the point where a higher up points it out as one of the many signs she’s struggling, but emily prentiss is the master of deflection. she will keep going until she crashes and burns, and a little cold isn’t going to bring her to that point… right?

to sum all of that up in 5 words: give emily prentiss a cold

#c/riminal m/inds #e/mily p/rentiss #cm17 #snzfucker #sneezeblr #coldfucker #snz thoughts #snz prompts

[stormlit]

nobody stopped me making a c/riminal m/inds oc because y’all are enablers so here u go

#please read the tw before u read the bio! #@ dark internet when will gone be screencapped #OOC / welcome to the historemix.

[queeniedeenie]

I'm watchin season 11 of c/riminal m/inds and..... why is the lighting so ugly

#I like the new chick tho #personal

[sleptwithinthesun]

happy belated birthday! if you’re still taking requests, could you write spencer reid with a headcold and no one can convince him to go home until morgan steps in and works his magic charm

thank you so much!! ngl writing has been a STRUGGLE for me lately so i can't promise that this is going to be great, but i'll try :) here's a funky 1.8K words of fic for you, anon; i sincerely hope you enjoy it.

"I don't even know why he's trying to hide it," JJ comments, casting a side-eye in Reid's direction as Morgan nods acquiesce at her side. "Seriously, we're a team of profilers. Does he think we won't notice?"

Morgan shrugs. "I have no idea what's going on in that genius brain of his half the time. All I know is that all his common sense was removed to make room for those statistics." He laughs with JJ at that, shaking his head slightly in disbelief of their youngest profiler. Somehow, Reid still hasn't quite managed to figure out a proper work-life balance like the rest of them, and shows up even when he has sick days that he could take. Every single member of their team has talked to him about it before, and he still hasn't learned anything.

From across the room, they watch as Reid shudders with a slow string of six sneezes, his shoulders jerking forwards and body hunching over with the force of them. "Yeah. He's going home early," JJ says.

"Not if he can help it."

~

JJ, of course, is the first one to approach him about it. She barely makes it fifteen minutes into their work day— mercifully, just paperwork, unless she gets a call —before she walks over to Reid, who's frowning at the mug in his hand like he's never seen it before. There's a teabag slowly steeping into the hot water he's poured in, and JJ thinks, strike number one.

Innocently, she glances over at his mug, obviously enough that Reid will notice it. "What's with the tea?" she asks, casual, even though she knows the answer. JJ long ago figured out that if she could get Spencer to admit that he was sick, the whole process would go much more smoothly from there.

"Hm? Oh, the tea. Yeah, I was reading a study last night about the amount of caffeine in different products," Reid starts, a slight rasp undercutting his tone, "and turns out black tea has a higher amount per fluid ounce than regular coffee does. Hence, the teabag."

And sure, that's definitely a Reid thing to do. If JJ weren't already suspicious, she definitely would have accepted it, and chalked the hoarseness up to an all-nighter. However, this is a conversation they had almost a week ago and are currently repeating, and JJ's willing to bet that Reid's tired enough right now that he doesn't remember it. The tea is likely for a sore throat, if the quality of his voice is anything to go by. Strike number two.

"But Spence, it's only a paperwork day," she points out, silently cheering to herself on calling him out. He's going to have to admit it after this, and she'll be able to send him home. "Why would you need more caffeine if we're doing less work?"

Three strikes...

He smiles at her, the grin rueful as he shakes his head. "Morgan keeps slipping his into my pile, since I read faster than he does. Plus, on a case, there's always adrenaline to keep me going. Paperwork tends to be monotonous; I need something else to keep me stimulated." As if in answer, he holds up his mug, then walks over to his desk and sits down.

...and she's out.

~

Rossi's the next one to try, and his M.O. is much more direct than JJ's. Rather than trying to goad Reid into a conversation, he simply waits until the kid stands up to make his way over to the printer to follow him, blocking the path back to his desk when the younger profiler turns around with papers in hand. "Are you feeling alright?"

Reid blinks at him, clearly confused. "...I'm fine?" he says, tone pitching up at the end and making it sound more like a question. Rossi's caught him off guard, which makes it much more likely that he'll slip up and accidentally admit to being sick. At least, that's Rossi's hope.

"You sure about that?"

The kid frowns at him, suspicious. For all that they complain about him trying to hide his illness from a team of profilers, they often forget that Reid himself is also a profiler and knows how to read them just as well as they can him. "Yes, Rossi, I'm sure. What do you want?"

He raises his hands in mock-surrender. "I don't want anything, Reid. I'm just trying to check on you."

"Well, I don't need to be "checked on", thank you," Reid snaps, his tone pure ice. The irritation is familiar and almost reminiscent of the last time he was ill on a case. That had been a few months ago, approaching half a year, and Rossi distinctly remembers his behavior towards not only the team, but also the other members of the police department they'd been working with. Needless to say, Reid's social skills weren't great at the best of times, and when he was sick and irritated, they were even worse. Hotch had been forced to keep him at the hotel for almost the entire case.

"Reid," Rossi tries, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder as he turns away. "I'm serious. I just want to know that you're okay."

"I'm fine," he insists, the wording a perfect example of how not fine he is. Still, Rossi knows when to stop pushing and lets up on the kid.

He takes his hand off. "Alright, Reid. Take it easy, though."

"No promises," Reid mutters, walking back to his desk, where he stays for the next hour.

~

Emily barely even makes an attempt. They're sitting in the break room together for lunch when Reid suddenly pulls away from the table, smothering a pair of sneezes in his elbow and sniffing back the congestion when he's done. "'Scuse me," he murmurs, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"Gesundheit," she says, casual, not even trying to prod. "I'm sure everyone's been riding your ass about this cold, haven't they?"

Reid only nods, face hazy with that pre-sneeze expression before sneezing again. This time, it's a triple, and he's almost breathless by the end of it, each one forcing itself out of his lungs despite their soft quality. "Christ, gesundheit," Emily says, eyebrows starting to furrow a bit. "I don't mean to be like the rest of them, but—"

He cuts her off with a small groan, which, fair, but still. Reid has always slowed down for the rest of them in his explanations during cases, but they all know that his brain works much, much faster than the rest of theirs. Hearing all of their concerns on repeat must be like them asking him to describe his exact thought pattern through a connection on a case: nearly impossible to deal with. "Yeah, okay," she says, laughing. "Here's the tissue box."

Emily smiles at Reid, who smiles back at her before blowing his nose. "Thanks for not making this a big deal, Prentiss."

"Of course," she agrees, "I'm just leaving you to Hotch's silent fury."

The kid blanches, and Emily grins even wider.

~

Hotch leaves his office to check on the rest of the BAU in the bullpen around one-thirty, as he usually does on paperwork days. He and Rossi switch off this way, the elder checking in during the morning while Hotch does the afternoon.

They seem to be doing fine, which is unexpected, to be honest. When they're not focused on the life-and-death consequences of a case, his team tends to dissolve into pure chaos on paperwork days. Rossi has to be in his office, whereas Morgan and JJ are holding a conversation over by the copier. Garcia has a day off and Prentiss is nowhere to be seen, leaving only...

Reid.

He turns his gaze to the desks, expecting his youngest member to be fiddling with a Rubik's cube or some other brain teaser. There's been an accumulation of logic puzzle books in his desk over the past couple years, and he tends to pull them out on paperwork days when he can't yet leave but is bored. Instead, though, he's sitting almost perfectly still, face cupped in his hand with his elbow on the desk. Morgan's not even trying to slip him paperwork; Reid's desk is almost completely empty aside from a couple of crumpled-up tissues to the left side.

Looking more intensely at him, Hotch can see the flush across his cheeks and nose, as well as bags under his eyes. It's concerning that he can see them, standing where he is, but Hotch honestly doubts that they've been brought on by whatever illness Reid's currently trying to kick. Surely, though, it hasn't helped him recover in the slightest, if the pure exhaustion weighing on his features weren't so present. The kid needs a nap. Or to go home. Or both, which seems to be the best option.

Still, Hotch knows that Reid is stubborn on the best of days and downright mulish on the others, and if he's come into work today, there's no point in trying to get him home early. The only thing that'll work is convincing him to stay home tomorrow, which he'll have a better chance of doing on his way out. For now, though, it's just the two of them playing the waiting game.

~

Morgan is seated at his desk across from Reid an hour and a half later, his eyebrow raised as the younger profiler directly contradicts his seconds-previous statement about feeling "fide" with a fierce coughing fit. "Sure, Reid. Whatever you say," he tells him, sarcasm morphing into concern as it doesn't end. "Hey, man, you alright?"

"Peachy," Reid rasps, once he gets his breathing under control. He takes a deep swig from his thermos, which had been filled with tea that afternoon, and exhales slowly.

He smirks. "Forgot how sassy you got when you were sick, kid."

"I've been saving it just for you," he snarks, slumping back in his seat. "I'm starting to think that the others might have been right."

"What, about you going home early because you're sick? Yeah, they were totally right. You're just stubborn and have no regard for your health." Even as he says it, though, his tone softens. "Want me to drive you?"

Reid glances up, making eye contact with him for the first time that day. "Would you mind?" His voice is small, strangled from his illness, and Morgan can feel himself slipping into the mode he usually uses with victims. The kid doesn't seem to notice, thankfully.

"Of course not," Morgan says, standing. Reid takes a second to gather his belongings in his satchel, time that Morgan uses to head towards Hotch's office.

Poking his head in, he finds that Hotch is already staring at the door, clearly expecting him. "You're taking him home?"

"If that's alright," Morgan answers easily, unsurprised.

"Please," Hotch says, giving him one of those small, rarely-afforded smile. "Make sure he doesn't come in tomorrow, alright? He needs a day off."

Morgan nods, ducking back out and descending back into the bullpen, where Reid is ready and waiting for him. "Are we good?"

"Yup," he says, draping an arm around his shoulders. "Let's head home, pretty boy."

#askbox #promptfic #c/riminal m/inds sickfic #sickfic #c/riminal m/inds #s/pencer r/eid #d/erek m/organ #b/au t/eam #swts fic