#criminals minds

[ankittyxo]

husband🤭

[chemlock]

Forensic Odontology Overview

Forensic odontology is a subspecialty of dentistry that has its main focus on the identification of deceased victims. In simplest terms, there are two aims in forensic dentistry. The first one is the identification of the dead, and second is the identification of an assailant who has used his or her teeth as a weapon. But how? Let's see.

Let's start with corpse identification. Teeth can be used to identify corpses, as no two oral cavities are alike, and teeth are unique to an individual. The dental evidence of the deceased recovered from the crime scene is compared with ante-mortem records for identification. This is used in cases such as mass casualties, burn victims, or severely disfigured/decomposed corpses.

Forensic odontology can also be used to determine things like age, race, and sex. In cases where there is no blood or other DNA sources, teeth can also be used.

Age is determined by looking at X-rays of the permanent teeth and tooth roots within the bone. The crown of a tooth forms first, followed by the root, and scientists estimate age by comparing the stage of tooth formation in the X-rays and bone with known dental growth standards.

Race is found by comparing the shapes of the different teeth. Determining race using teeth isn't easy, but using common dental characteristics as indicators (like Caucasoids usually having narrow “v-” shaped arch giving rise to crowding of teeth) we can get a good guess.

To determine sex, we rely on sexual dimorphism. Generally, male teeth have significantly greater quantities of dentine than females, while female teeth are found to have greater enamel thickness than male teeth. This isn't always fully accurate, but when combined with other factors, it helps give an idea.

None of these are perfect, but they can help give us a good approximate description, which is better than none.

Now, Bite Mark analysis.

There's 4 steps to bite mark analysis. Photographs, saliva swabbing, impressions, and tissue samples.

In order to make a good comparison, a balanced, color, scale photograph should be made of the defendant’s teeth (which can be used for testimony in court) and of the victim’s bite. Because the dental expert will need to know the scale shown in the picture, some method of measurement (such as a ruler or tape measure) photographed alongside the bite mark and the defendant’s teeth is necessary. A plaster cast of the defendant’s dental impressions can also be used to prepare a plastic overlay. The plastic overlay is used to mark the points of contact and forms a representation of defendant’s bite marks or a pattern of the cutting edges of defendant’s teeth. This representation can then be compared with a scaled photograph of the bite mark on the victim as a means of determining common points of identification.

If the bite area was swabbed and saliva recovered, and it was a positive match to the subject, that could help identify the assailant, but it's not often that DNA can be recovered.

Bite analysis has its issues, as tooth marks are not always transfered accurately, and sometimes there's not enough difference in bite marks to tell reliably. Bitemark analysis is more often used for excluding someone as a potential assailant. Say the mark shows imprint of fully intact frontal incisors, and the proposed biter does not have all their front teeth. This means that the person being accused is not the probable assailant. This could also be used to tell if the bite was self-inflicted. But bite mark analysis is often not admissible due to it having been found to be unreliable in some cases. People have been rightly and falsely convicted because of it, and it can be an unreliable method for forensic examination.

As with all areas of forensics, it's under dispute for its reputability. Bite mark analysists have been shown to be unable to consistently agree on whether the bitemark was even human. Even minor distortions could lead to the mark matching a number of people.

And here's a little bit of interesting history I came across in my travels :)

There are many "first" uses of forensic odontology in history across the web, but as far as I can find the first documented use of teeth for identification began during 66 AD, with the Agrippina and Lollia Pauline case. (There's a bit to it, find it here.)

Recorded forensic identification in India started in 1193, where Jai Chand, a great Indian monarchy, was destroyed by Muhammad's army, and Jai Chand, Raja of Kanauji was murdered and he was identified by his false teeth.

Dr Ascor Amoedo is reputed as the father of forensic odontology and documented the first case of dental identification in which many individuals lost their lives in a disaster. 126 people were charred to death due to a fire accident in Paris 1897, and were identified using their teeth.

In 1979, a double bite mark played an important role in convicting Ted Bundy of murder as he'd bitten one of his last victims.

[ketsueki-k]

Literally them !

[akashababy]

Can you write a oneshot were a male reader falls in love with reid while the team is on vacation and the team + willam spends some time helping them get together (the reader is William Lamontagne brother who owns a popular bar/restaurant)

Hope you enjoy !!

A Vacation Romance (Spencer Reid x male reader)

🤎 The BAU team agreed to take a vacation together because they needed a much-needed break. The location was a charming seaside village that was ideal for resting and relaxing. William Lamontagne, JJ's brother and the proprietor of a well-liked eatery and bar in their hometown, was one of the group.

🤎 As they became comfortable in their holiday house, Reid, the team's mysterious and intelligent leader, caught William's attention. William had heard his sister tell endless stories about Reid over the years, and he was always enthralled by the man's wisdom and generosity.

🤎 William made the decision to ask the team for advice in order to take advantage of the opportunity to pursue Reid. He went up to his sister JJ and her spouse Will and asked for their assistance in assisting him in becoming closer to Reid. They knew how much William admired their friend, so they were more than willing to help.

🤎 When the crew got together for breakfast the following day, William took a deep breath and got ready to let his emotions show. JJ expertly directed the conversation towards Reid as they talked about their plans for the day, gently nudging William to show interest.

🤎 "Hey, Reid, have you ever been to William's bar?" With a playful glitter in her eyes, JJ inquired nonchalantly.

🤎 Reid's interest drove him to look up from his coffee. "No, I haven't. Is it worth it?"

🤎 William used the opportunity to add something. "Wow, it's very excellent! We have a great atmosphere and provide the best cocktails. You ought to stop by someday."

🤎 Reid gave a kind smile. "I would adore it. Perhaps we could travel together."

🤎 William felt his heart skip a beat when Reid said those words. It appeared that he felt the same way. He looked at Will and JJ, who grinned knowingly at each other.

🤎"That sounds like a great idea!" JJ couldn't suppress her enthusiasm as she exclaimed.

🤎 As the days passed, the group planned a number of events that gave William and Reid more opportunities to be together. Whether it was a late-night bonfire or a picnic by the beach, the crew made sure that everything was set up for romance to blossom.

🤎 As time went on, William and Reid became more intimate, finding common ground and relishing each other's companionship. They had thoughtful talks, lots of fun, and an increasingly strong bond that neither could deny.

🤎 Walking along the beach under a blanket of stars one evening, William plucked up the confidence to tell her how he really felt. He clasped Reid's hand, their fingers meeting, and met Reid's eyes.

🤎 "Reid, I can't deny the sentiments that have grown inside of me; these past three days have been amazing. I'm in love with you now."

🤎 With emotion shimmering in his eyes, Reid gave William a gentle squeeze on the hand. "I feel the same way, William. Your generosity, wisdom, and zest for life have won my heart."

🤎 The yells and congratulations of their teammates, who had been quietly observing from a distance, cut short their sweet moment. JJ, Will, and the entire staff hurried over to give them congrats and big hugs.

🤎 From that day on, the story of William and Reid's love developed against the backdrop of their trip. With gratitude for their friends' encouragement and support, they relished every second spent together.

🤎 William and Reid joyfully welcomed the new chapter in their lives as a couple and went home after their trip. And as William carried on managing his well-liked restaurant and bar, he couldn't help but think back on how a straightforward trip had led to the most amazing love of his life.

Fin.

[belpheg0r-luna]

So if criminal minds and the magnus archives have taught me anything its the fact that pig farms must be avoided at all costs

[softhairedhotch]

i just think that hotch in a grey suit can be something so personal,,

[parisian-nicole]

Source: Kirsten's Instagram

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 9 | S.R

Previous Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - George offers Spencer some words of advice as they grow closer. A familiar face from his past surfaces but things don’t go as Spencer anticipated.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - Spencer’s wrongly directed anger, suicidal thoughts, past drug addiction, flirty nurse, aggression, threatening behaviour, mentions of bisexual Spencer, tears, suicidal ideation, Garcia’s flashback, vomit.

WC - 4.9k

Chapter 9 - Don't You Dare Forget the Sun

He had a long time to think about Maggie’s words as he was left alone for the rest of the day. His only interaction came in the form of an orderly bringing his lunch and then later dinner. 

He wasn’t sure if it was in protest or just not being hungry, but Spencer didn’t eat a thing. Instead he slowly pulled apart his food and made a game out of throwing it at the wall. He enjoyed the mess it made. 

Once the sun had gone down he slipped out of bed and hopped to the desk before opening his journal. He stared at the next blank page for some time, but when he did start writing, the words flowed. 

I’ll never forgive her for this. I’ll never be able to look at her the same. It’s her fault I’m here, she made the call, she got the judge to sign the preventive confinement order. 

I hate her for doing this to me. I hate all of them for doing this to me. It’s doing more harm than good, I can feel it…I can feel it slowly destroying me. 

If I can’t get my hands on those drugs I will find a way to kill myself. I’ll think of something…I’ll formulate a plan one way or another. It’s drugs or death. 

If she’s gotten her hands on this it’s because I couldn’t get the drugs and I’m already dead. And I hope she knows this is all her fucking fault. I hope she takes the guilt to her own grave.

In putting me in here, she basically signed my death warrant. So I hope for as long as she lives, she hates herself for what she’s done. I hope it’s her that has to explain to Henry and Michael and little Hank why Uncle Spencer isn’t around anymore. 

I hope it’s her that has to tell my mom what happened to me, explain all the grisly details of how they found me with my throat slashed or hanging from the rafters from a noose I made out of bed sheets. 

I hope the team falls apart. I hope every single one of them carry my death on their shoulders for the rest of their days. 

I hope if you’re reading this, you know you’re the one that really killed me, Emily Prentiss. 

***  

His night was spent mostly staring at the same ceiling, unable to give over to sleep. He was already awake the next morning when he heard the trolleys being wheeled down the corridors and the nurses skirting from room to room.

He knew it was George who entered his room without tearing his eyes away from the ceiling. He had a distinctive smelling aftershave and it wafted straight to Spencer’s nose. 

“I hear I should be thankful I wasn’t on the morning shift yesterday.” He spoke as he wheeled the trolley towards Spencer’s bed. 

“News of my breakdown travels fast.” He sighed, looking at George now. 

“You scared the crap out of poor Linda.” George picked up the medicine cup and a cup of water before handing them to Spencer. 

“It wasn’t intentional. I just…you wouldn’t get it.” He necked the pills and downed some water. 

“Try me.” George narrowed his eyes on him. 

Spencer heaved a sigh and pulled his hands up the sleeves of his sweater. 

“Unless you’ve been where I am, you wouldn’t understand.” 

George looked around the room momentarily as though he expected someone to be lurking in the shadows. When he looked back at Spencer his eyes were a little sad. 

“I have been where you are.” 

“What?” Spencer frowned.

“I mean not in that exact bed at this exact facility. But I was…I guess I am a drug addict.” He shrugged. 

“I’m confused.” Spencer’s frown deepened.

“I’ve been sober for thirteen years. I was just a kid when I started taking drugs. My boyfriend at the time was older than me and a huge junkie. I started using recreationally to seem cool around his friends. Then it got out of hand. By the time we broke up he left me with a broken heart and a pretty bad cocaine addiction.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened as he consumed George’s words. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think of anything to say. So George continued. 

“I voluntarily checked myself into a facility. Getting clean was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I did do it. I got clean and I went to nursing school and now I dedicate my life to helping those like me.” He offered Spencer a sympathetic smile.

“It isn’t triggering? Working here and being around addicts?” 

“Quite the opposite actually. I find it cathartic.”

“I don’t know that I can do this, George. I don’t think I can get clean. I was sober for over ten years and I was so quick to give it up. I can have a good day but then in an instant it’s like I’m back at square one all over again.” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. 

“Healing isn’t linear, Spencer.” George sighed a little. “Sometimes you have to take two steps forward and one step back on the road to recovery. Sometimes it’s two steps forward and five back. You’ll have good days, great days even. But you’ll also have the worst days of your life. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is worth it in the end. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to say without a shadow of a doubt that I won’t ever touch drugs again. Nothing in this life is certain. But I can say for a fact that I don’t want to do drugs today. And I probably won’t tomorrow or next week or even next month. The thing with addiction is you just have to take each day as it comes, as you know. But you can’t expect to just get better overnight.” 

“You should be a therapist.” Spencer found himself smiling. 

“I can’t deal with listening to people whine about their problems.” George laughed. 

The sound was infectious enough to make Spencer laugh too, for the first time in a really long time. 

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded, feeling lighter than he had done since he woke up in this place. 

“I should uh…” George pointed over his shoulder to the door. “You have got to stop monopolising my time, Doctor. Just because you’re cute, doesn’t mean you can have me all to yourself.”

Spencer’s cheeks instantly flushed pink and buried himself further down in his sheet to try and hide his embarrassment. He watched George leave, sending Spencer a wink before he closed and locked the door behind him. 

And goddamn if it weren’t for you constantly on his mind, he might have let himself fall for the dreamy nurse. 

***

He was brought his breakfast by an orderly but he just moved the food around his plate with the plastic fork without eating any. 

When the door opened again he assumed it would be the same orderly collecting his tray and was surprised when Doctor Delaney strolled in the room. 

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t seem amused, he was frustrated if anything. 

“Not great.” Spencer admitted. 

“You terrified nurse Linda.” Delaney folded his arms not trying to hide his annoyance. 

“So I’ve heard.” Spencer rolled his eyes. 

“You’re going to go and take a shower and then it’s time for group therapy.” 

“Pass.” Spencer folded his arms to mirror him. 

“Excuse me?” Delaney raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I said pass. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to shower and I don’t want to go to group therapy. So I’m not.” 

“You can’t spend all day in your room.”

“I did yesterday.” Spencer shrugged. 

“Because you couldn’t be trusted around other people after your outburst.” 

“Maybe I still can’t be.” Spencer unfolded his arms, picked up the plastic fork and stabbed it hard into a piece of bacon. “Do you want to take that risk?” 

Delaney exhaled loudly through his nose.

“You’re a lot calmer than you were yesterday. I think it would prevalent to all involved that you-“

“Here’s the deal.” Spencer cut him off by shoving his tray of food on the floor, the sound clattering around the small room. “You make me leave this bed today and I will not be held accountable for my actions. I will strangle you with my bare hands just to get hold of a key to the medicine cabinet so I can get high. Does that sound calm to you?” 

Delaney narrowed his eyes before scoffing and shaking his head. 

“You’re only ruining your own life, Spencer. If you don’t want help then that’s fine by me. But if you threaten me or any of my staff again, I will turn you over to the cops.” Delaney spat at him, knowing it wasn’t at all professional and then fled the room before he said something he might regret. 

As he locked the door behind him he heard Spencer screaming at the top of his lungs. Some people were beyond help. Maybe Spencer was one of them. 

***

Spencer’s combination of medications made him inconceivably tired and he found himself sleeping through most of the day. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or not that it had been dreamless. 

A part of him wanted to see your face even if only in his dreams. But now you were starting to fade from his memory it scared him every time he saw you. 

This was the longest he’d been sober in years. He thought if anything his memories would be clearer once his mind was less foggy but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. He couldn’t lose you from his memories. He would break entirely if he lost all his recollections of you. He had to convince someone to call you. He had to see you no matter the cost. 

He snaked his arms up the sleeves of his sweater under the sheet and wrapped them around himself. He rolled his head to the side on the pillow and was startled by a pair of icy blue eyes staring back at him.

“Who’s Y/N?” George smiled at him from where was sitting in the chair at the desk. 

Spencer pulled his arms out from under the sheet and rubbed his eyes. 

“What are you doing here? Where’s your scrubs?” He croaked.

“I got off shift a little while ago, thought I’d come check on you.” George shrugged. 

“You’ve been watching me sleep? You do realise that’s incredibly creepy don’t you?” 

“Who’s Y/N?” He avoided the question. “You were mumbling the name in your sleep.” 

“Something you wouldn’t know if you weren’t watching me sleep.” Spencer scoffed. “She’s my ex-girlfriend.” 

“Ah.” George pulled a face. “I always crush on the straight guys.” 

“Should you be telling me that?” Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Probably not but I don’t think you’ll tell anyone.” George smiled at him and it was a very nice smile. 

“And I’m not necessarily…straight. I’m…something.” Spencer shook his head. 

“You’ve slept with men?” George smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Seems like an inappropriate question coming from my nurse, but…yes. I have been with men and women.” Spencer laughed again. 

“So there’s hope for me yet?” George teased. 

“I mean if this emaciated, drug addict look is your thing…?” Spencer rolled his eyes.

“I told you, my ex was a junkie. Guess I have a type.” George’s eyes sparkled playfully. 

“Is it weird if I say I’m kind of flattered?” Spencer frowned. “I did not expect someone to find me attractive like this.” 

“Well, I do.” George shrugged. “Which is kind of why I’m here.” 

Spencer’s eyes widened and he hugged himself tighter. 

“I uh…I don’t think we should…”

“Not that.” George laughed, standing up from the chair. “You think I’ve come here to get into your pants while you're trying to recover from a drug addiction? Please, I have morals.” 

“Oh.” Spencer frowned again. “What did you mean then?” 

George came to his bedside and smiled softly at him. 

“I came to tell you that because I am attracted to you, I have requested a floor change. I’m not going to be giving out meds on this floor anymore. I think it’s for the best.” 

“Oh.” Spencer pouted. “That’s…that’s a shame.” 

“I can’t fall for another addict.” George took a step back. 

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded. “Thank you for being honest with me.” 

“You’re welcome.” George shrugged. “I should be getting off. I have two very hungry cats at home and if I’m late there will be hell to pay.” 

“Ok.” Spencer didn’t know what else to say. 

George backed towards the door and he reached it and opened it with one hand behind his back. He kept his eyes on Spencer and smiled wistfully. 

“I hope you beat this Doctor Reid. I really hope you do.” He stepped out into the corridor. 

“Me too.” Spencer admitted out loud. 

He watched George close the door and lock it behind him. 

He really meant it. Spencer really did want to beat this. He fought it so hard because it was easier being a drug addict than actually dealing with his trauma. But he did want to get better. He wanted to get clean and he wanted to be ok again. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew that. But he had a new found determination that he was going to get better. 

When another orderly brought him his dinner a little while later he asked to see a doctor. He wasn’t even a little surprised it wasn’t Delaney that came to his room. 

He convinced the doctor to help him into his chair and wheel him to the right place. Thankfully he met little opposition from the new doctor who’s name he forgot, and he was taken to his destination. 

Once inside the room with the door closed behind him, Spencer broke out into fits of sobs. He sobbed into his hands, loudly whining and whimpering as he got it out of his system. His whole body wracked with the weight of it all. His small frame shuddered from his sobs that he seemed to have been holding in for a lifetime. 

He cried so much his eyes were sore and his nose was completely blocked. His sleeves were drenched with tears and snot but he didn’t seem to notice, let alone care. He cried for several long minutes before he forced himself to stop. There would be time for tears later. 

He wiped his eyes on his sleeves before looking up. His bottom lip quivered as he looked her in the eye and squeaked, “I want to get better. And I want you to help me.” 

Maggie smiled softly at him, nodding her head. 

“Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll help you.” 

***

Three days passed and Spencer went about his new routine with surprisingly little resistance. That’s not to say he was thriving, not yet at least. But he hoped he’d get there. 

Group therapy was by far his least favourite activity of the day. He was still reluctant to open up to Cedric and the group and when he did speak he usually kept it unemotional, facts rather than feelings. 

His sessions with Maggie were much more preferable although still difficult. They’d started as she suggested in his childhood and discussed his fathers leaving and his mothers illness at great lengths. They moved on to his life as a child prodigy and to Spencer’s surprise they’d started unpacking a lot from that time. 

Spencer had never really dwelled much on the pressure being so intelligent had put on his shoulders. Even when he joined the BAU, he was mostly just a prize for Gideon to show off, his walking talking know-it-all. He’d never realised how much that had affected his mental well-being, or how much of an intense burden it was to be so smart at such a young age. 

She’d made him see that because of his intelligence he’d been more aware of all the bad in his life. Most ten years old wouldn’t have been so impressed upon by their fathers abandonment. But because Spencer was smarter than the average ten year old he’d been more conscious of what was happening. The same could be said for his mothers illness. 

In their session today they’d started to unpack the stresses and strains of a twenty two year old genius joining the FBI. 

Therapy exhausted Spencer mentally. PT exhausted him physically. But he could now take tentative steps with the aid of crutches, even if it had pained him tremendously to do so. Nick advised using the wheelchair where he could but said as long as he was careful he was happy for Spencer to try using the crutches to get about. 

He still craved drugs and he knew that wasn’t going to change any time soon and his medication was yet to make an impact. But he was trying. It was going to be an uphill battle but he was really trying. 

It was Tuesday which meant it was visitation day. It was a sunny afternoon and his new doctor, who he’d learnt was called Doctor Sanderson, suggested having his visitor meet him in the courtyard. 

Spencer used his crutches to get from his room to the garden area and found his guest at a bench next to some rose bushes. When he saw the back of her head he picked up his speed, almost tripping on the crutches in his excitement. 

“Garcia!” He called her name as he approached and she turned to face him.

The minute she laid eyes on him she started crying instantly. 

“Boy wonder!” She screeched, jumping up and almost tackling him in a hug. “Oh my gosh I missed you so very, very much!” 

“I missed you too.” He couldn’t hug her back as he was gripping his crutches but he nuzzled his face in her neck so she knew he was trying. 

She pulled back and looked him up and down, her face contorting into an expression of sadness. 

“Oh Spencer, look at you.”

“I know.” He nodded. “It’s not ideal.” 

“Come, sit down.” She motioned him to the bench and he hobbled behind her on his crutches before falling to the bench rather unceremoniously.

Garcia plastered her practiced smile back on and reached next to her, producing a Tupperware pot full of cookies. 

“For me?” Spencer’s eyes lit up slightly. 

“As long as you don’t mind sharing.” Garcia popped the lid and let Spencer help himself to one of the chocolate chip discs of heaven.

He took a large bite and hummed around a mouthful.

“Holy crap this is the best thing I’ve eaten in…a long time.” 

“Good huh?” Garcia took a bite of her own. “I made them with Henry and Michael. Michael said to make sure you know he sprinkled it with extra love.” 

Spencer’s eyes immediately glistened with tears. 

“Tell him I can taste it.” He sniffed. 

“Also they drew you pictures. They couldn’t wait until JJ came to see you for you to have them.” She picked up the stack of childrens drawings and handed them to Spencer while he finished the cookie and helped himself to another. 

“These will certainly brighten up my room.” He smiled a little sadly. “Thank them for me.” 

“Oh I most certainly will.” She smiled at him but it faltered. “How are you?” 

“I honestly don’t know. It's hard, being here, being sober. It’s hard to open up when I’ve spent so much of my life shutting down. It’s a struggle every day. But I do want to get better.” Spencer gave her a tight lipped smile. 

“You had me worried sick.” She nibbled on her cookie. “I thought you were going to die.” 

Spencer sighed and chewed on his lip. 

“I wanted to die. I know that’s not what you want to hear but if being in this place is teaching me anything it’s that I need to be honest. And the truth is I wanted to die.” 

Garcia pouted her bright pink lip and put the half eaten cookie back in the container. She turned her body towards Spencer and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. 

“Do you still feel that way?” Her voice cracked a little.

“Honestly, sometimes. I think it’s going to be a while until I don’t feel that way.” 

“Oh Spencer.” She squeezed his shoulder. “I should have done more to help you.” 

“Don’t say that, Penelope. I pushed you away, I haven’t seen any of you in so long you couldn’t have known…” he trailed off when Garcia’s expression changed. “What is it?”

“I saw you…seven, maybe eight months ago.” A tear rolled from her eye under the thick rim of her purple glasses.

“You did?” Spencer frowned. 

“Yes.” She sniffed dramatically. “I was on my way home from work and this new Thai place had opened down the street and I thought boy genius loves Thai food, I wonder if he’d like some. So I brought some food over.”

“And I was high.” Spencer filled in the blanks. 

“You were a mess…”

She tottered up the stairs on her too high heels, balancing take out containers in her arms with a smile on her face. It had been so long since she’d last seen Spencer and she couldn’t wait to see the look on the good doctor's face when she showed up with his favourite cuisine. 

But when she reached the top of the stairs, she immediately dropped every single one of the containers on the floor. 

“Spencer!” She shrieked, running as fast as her heels would carry her to his door. 

Spencer was slumped on the floor, his back to his apartment door, head bowed and eyes closed. There was a puddle of vomit next to him on the floor. 

“Spencer! Oh my god Spencer! Are you breathing? Please tell me you’re breathing!” She fell to her knees, gripping his jaw to pull his head back and pressing her fingers on her other hand to the pulse point on his neck. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse, albeit a thready one.

“Spencer! Boy wonder! Can you hear me?” Grabbing him by the shoulders she gave him a firm shake. 

His body was limp like a rag doll for a moment and then suddenly he stiffened and his eyes shot open.

“Huh?” He blinked a few times trying to focus. 

“Spence, it’s me, Penelope. Can you hear me?” 

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “What are you doing here? Where are we?” 

“Outside your apartment G-Man. What are you doing here?” She helped him to his feet and he wobbled a little before leaning against the wall for support.

She saw the cogs turning in his head for a moment before he nodded to himself.

“I locked myself out. I lost my keys.” 

Garcia looked around but it didn’t take her long to see his set of keys dangling from the lock in the door.

“Those keys?” She frowned, pointing at them. 

Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms and blinked again before smiling dumbly. 

“My keys!” He cheered. “What would I do without you Garcia?” 

He pushed himself away from the wall but stumbled and Garcia quickly steadied him. 

“Let’s get you inside.” With one hand she balanced Spencer and unlocked the door with the other. 

“What happened? Spence? Where have you…”

“Y/N?”

“Sorry?” Garcia snapped out of her story and looked at Spencer who was staring off across the courtyard. 

“I thought I saw…” he shook his head and looked back at her. “Sorry, carry on.” 

Garcia narrowed her eyes on him briefly before exhaling and continuing with her story. 

“What happened? Spence? Where have you been?” She aided in getting him inside and couldn’t hold back her gasp at the state of the apartment. 

Spencer didn’t even seem to notice, or he was just used to it, and manoeuvred the obstacles of destruction towards the couch. 

“Hmm? Oh just out.” He shrugged, collapsing on the beat up leather. 

“Are those…bullet holes?” She gasped again at the obliterated end of the couch. 

“Hmm.” Spencer hummed, swinging his legs up and laying down. 

“Spencer, what’s happened here? I’m really worried about…”

“Y/N?” 

Garcia trailed off again to see Spencer once more looking out across the courtyard. 

“I…I’m sure that’s…” he frowned, grabbing his crutches and pushing himself up with them. “I’ll be right back.”

“Spencer, where are you-“

“I’ll be two minutes.” He called over his shoulder but he was already hobbling away on his crutches. 

It was frustrating not to be able to move faster as he tried to hurry after the familiar back of a head he’d seen wandering the institute's grounds. He followed the path he saw you take behind the building into a more secluded part of the gardens. 

He found you sitting in the grass with your back to him, legs crossed and your head buried in a book. His heart raced partly from the exertion of getting here but mostly from excitement. You were here. You were right in front of him. You’d found him. 

“Y/N?” He called your name as he approached and you spun round to face him, wide eyed.

For the first time in a long time your features weren’t blurred. You looked exactly as he remembered you, maybe a little skinnier and with the addition of dark circles under your eyes. 

“Y/N!” He choked, feeling his tears gathering. “Oh my gosh, you came! Y/N I can’t believe you’re here!”

You jumped up from the grass and clutched your book tightly to your chest. You kept your eyes firmly on him, your back was up instantly. 

“Y/N, say something.” Spencer smiled shakily at you and when he got too close you took a few steps back. 

“This is my reading spot. My private reading spot.” You spoke quietly. 

“Maybe it can be our reading spot?”

“No. No.” You shook your heading, taking another step backwards. “I like to be alone.” 

“Y/N, what’s going on?” 

You clutched your book tighter against your chest as though it was a shield. You took another step backwards and swallowed hard. 

“Look, I just want to be left alone ok?” Your eyes held a hint of fear to them. 

Spencer’s eyebrows knitted heavily as he profiled your expression as you looked at him. He didn’t see a hint of recognition. It was like you had no idea who he was. 

“I…we…” he stumbled on his words. 

“Look I was on a lot of drugs ok? So if we slept together or something I’m sorry but I don’t remember a lot of stuff.” Your eyes shifted about, not able to look at one thing for too long. 

“Drugs? You weren’t on drugs.” Spencer shook his head. 

“Why do you think I’m here?” You shrugged. 

“You’re not…I thought you were here to…see me?”

“Why would I be here to see you?”

“Because we...” He trailed off, his head spinning. Was he asleep? Was this just another of his vivid dreams? 

“Please leave me alone” you whispered, hugging your book even tighter. 

What the fuck was going on? 

“Y/N, I…”

“Spencer?” Garcia’s voice came from behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see her toddling his way, heels sinking into the grass. “Spencer, what are you doing?” 

“I…I was just…” he turned back to face you only to find you gone, vanished as if into thin air. 

What the fuck is happening to me? 

“You need to sit down, come on.” Garcia waved him over. 

He looked between her and the now empty space. Was he completely losing it? 

“Spencer, come on.” 

He sighed heavily and turned himself around and hobbled towards Garcia. He kept his thoughts at bay until they were seated back on the bench. 

“Garcia, I need to talk to you about Y/N.” 

Much like Emily, Luke and Rossi, her facial expression changed to one Spencer just couldn’t read. 

“Uh…” she fiddled with her hands in her lap and wouldn’t make eye contact with him. “Emily said we aren’t supposed to talk to you about that.” 

“What? Why?” Spencer frowned. 

“I just can't, ok? I promised Em.” 

“Penelope, tell me what’s going on.” Spencer spoke sternly and Garcia still didn’t look at him as she pushed herself up from the bench. 

“I should go. Take such good care of yourself boy wonder.”

“Garcia!” He pulled himself up too. “Tell me what’s going on! Please!”

“I can’t.” She turned back to him and he saw the tears in her eyes. “Just trust me ok? Please, just trust me.”

“I need someone to explain to me why nobody will talk about her. What am I missing here, Penelope?”

He looked so sad and confused and it broke Garcia’s heart. 

“Sometimes the truth doesn’t set us free.” She sniffed and suddenly she was hurrying away as fast as her heels would carry her. 

Spencer watched her go, in complete uncertainty. Something was going on. Something bigger than he could comprehend. He was missing something and he was sure it was something big. 

The team was keeping something from him. Something pertaining to you and he had no idea what. 

But he had to find out. 

Next Chapter

Taglist

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @dirtytissuebox @smurphyse @ssa-uglywhore27 @reidselle @reidsbookclub @tiredmilky @thatsonezesty13 @1mechanicalalligator @elle-28

[madhare0512]

personal BAU headcanons i've developed over the years:

- JJ, Emily, Reid, and Garcia have chronic pain that comes and goes, sometimes it's trigger out. it most notably happens when it rains back in DC

- The Reid Effect still works, but as Reid's gotten older, the effects have become less severe. Cloony and Roxy have been the only dogs immediately immune

- the entire BAU team has a very messed up internal clock from traveling to different time zones so often and without rest, with the fact that they keep such odd hours as well,

- Reid is extremely protective of the team, having seen too many people come and go over all his years with the BAU. the team have a joke that once Reid has accepted you, you're protected, but it rings a lot truer than any of them can see

- Garcia is also very protective of the team, but she has less pull and cannot protect them as well as Reid could, so she points out names and lets Reid go from there

- Hotch has tenitus, it will never go away

- if someone higher than the unit chief goes into the field with the team, the team has a habit of looking to their unit chief for confirmation to their orders. 90% of the time, it's because the person higher than the unit chief is auditing/trying to prove a point

- new agents get their cues from Rossi, JJ, and Reid, as the longest standing members of the BAU Main Response Team. Rossi knows this, JJ and Reid do not

- the team can sometimes be found in one of the unused offices on a pillow-and-blanket fort sleeping

- the team can, will, and has closed ranks against anyone who goes against the team in a way that isn't Right

- Prentiss loves her team and she'll do anything to protect it, but the team doesn't know about the less than legal not-so-moral things she did in the wake of Ian Doyle and the Black Swan was never caught or identified

- Luke and Morgan have met up, Morgan has "passed the buck" so to speak and asked Luke to look after Reid as his brother. Luke asked him if he thought that would knock him out, but Morgan just smiled and said nothing could replace him as Reid's brother, another brother would just be added to the tally

- Garcia, Prentiss, JJ, and Tara sometimes have girls-night, they may or may not invite Rossi and Reid to these nights, entirely dependant on if the two want to hang with them for the night

- the team has unofficial venting sessions for bad cases and rough days. the team can and will drop everything to be there for each other (with families if necessary)

- the team has knife, close quarts combat, and long-range weapons training, both offense and defense, courtesy of Prentiss

[parkerloves]

FANDOM LIST AND MASTERLIST

Hi there!! Let me introduce myself:) I'm Parker, a spanish and multifandom (and an attempt to be) writer who is a bit tired of Wattpad and since I've been reading here A LOT I decided to give it a go!

Requests are open and I'm comfortable with almost anything except very big age gaps, pregnancy or dom!male!character (basically I don't know how to write dom male, just subs or switchs/non dynamic)

FANDOM LIST (feel free to ask if you see your fandom here!)

MASTERLIST

Motosport ￬￬

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

logan bestie!reder + childhood friends to lovers + smau

Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader

uninterested!singer!reader + smau

Marc Márquez x Fem! Reader

bestfriend's brother + smau

Dead Poets Society ￬￬

Neil Perry x Fem!Reader

secret relationship + modern day au + smau

.

[sunshineandlyrics]

Rock Me Dr Spencer Reid!

[ankittyxo]

this is so true

[chemlock]

Blood Spatter Analysis Overview

As I'm sure you know, blood is almost always very present at a crime scene, especially that of a violent crime. The average adult human body has about 10 pints of blood, so it's quite hard to avoid. But the quantity of blood as well as location and spatter type can give us a good bit of information on the crime, and that's what I'm here to talk about today.

Blood spatter analysis (also known as BSA) refers to the patterns, size and distribution of blood drops, stains or splatter caused by the impact of blood with an object or surface when it's flung, sprayed or projected, such as by striking someone with a weapon or during a car accident. The patterns and characteristics of blood spatter help analysts re-create the events of a crime or accident and provide further insight into the circumstances of the incident. Analysts examine the size, shape, distribution, and location of the bloodstains to determine what did or did not happen. It is one of the most effective methods of reconstructing crime scenes available to forensic analysts.

Blood spatter analysis has several applications in various fields, such as crime scene investigation, accident reconstruction, forensic pathology, and even biological research. It uses biology (behavior of blood), physics (cohesion, capillary action, and velocity), and mathematics (geometry, distance, and angle) to assist investigators in answering questions such as:

Where did the blood come from?

From what direction was the victim wounded?

How were the victim(s) and perpetrator(s) positioned?

What caused the wounds?

What movements were made after the bloodshed?

How many potential perpetrators were present?

Does the bloodstain evidence support or refute witness statements?

There are seven main categories of blood spatter: Impact spatter, passive bloodstain, projected bloodstains, cast-off bloodstains, arterial gush or spurt bloodstains, wipe bloodstain patterns, and transfer bloodstains.

There's also high, medium, and low velocity blood spatter. The velocity refers to the speed at which blood leaves the source.

A high velocity spatter is a spatter pattern with a blood impact speed of 100 feet per second or greater, originating from something like a gunshot wound. High velocity spatter usually creates small blood droplets sized 1 millimeter or less, often creating a sort of blood misting pattern.

Medium velocity spatter is a spatter with an impact speed of roughly 25 feet per second. This is often the result of blunt force trauma made with a weapon and can create cast-off patterns.

Low velocity is usually in the form of pools or dripping blood, like that of a nosebleed dripping onto the floor, with an average speed of 5 feet per second or less.

Here are examples of the aforementioned spatters:

Impact Spatter

Impact spatter is the most common bloodstain pattern type in a crime scene. It is attained when an object hits the blood source and is often circular and not elongated. There are two types of impact spatter, back spatter and forward spatter. Back spatter is blood spatter that has been flung back onto the attacker or object creating the impact, and forward spatter is prohected outward and away from the source, usually exiting directly from the wound and onto nearby surfaces.

Passive Bloodstain

Passive bloodstains are low velocity blood drops, flows, and pools, typically resulting from gravity acting on an injured body. For example, these can occur from blood dripping off a stab wound.

Projectile Bloodstains

Projectile bloodstains are high velocity spatters caused by something such as arterial spurting, expirated spray, or spatter cast off an object.

Cast off bloodstains

Cast-off patterns are created when the object that is used in the attack is swung, and the blood on the object is flung onto a nearby surface. These often occur in cases of blunt force trauma, where the object used is swung by the assailant. Analysts can tell the direction of the impacting object by the shape of the spatter as tails point in the direction of motion.

Arterial Spurt

Arterial spray refers to the spurt of blood released when a major artery is severed. The blood is propelled out of the breached blood vessel by the pumping of the heart and often forms an arcing pattern consisting of large, individual stains, with a new pattern created for each time the heart pumps.

Transfer Bloodstains

Transfer stains result from objects coming into contact with existing bloodstains and leaving wipes, swipes, or pattern transfers behind such as a bloody shoe print or a smear from a body being dragged.

The shape of the bloodstain pattern will depend greatly on the force used to propel the blood as well as the surface it lands on. Forward spatter from a gunshot wound will typically form smaller droplets spread over a wide area, while impact spatter from a bat would form larger drops and be more concentrated in the areas directly adjacent to the action.

Crime scene technicians use many different tools and methods to recreate the crime scene. To help reconstruct events, analysts use the direction and angle of the drops to determine points of convergence. (the starting point of the bloodshed)

First, the investigators must carefully examine the crime scene and locate any blood drops, stains, or splatter and collect them for further analysis.

Second, the samples are then examined in the laboratory under different light conditions and analyzed for their size, shape, speed of travel, and other characteristics. Pictures are taken from many angles, as well as alongside a ruler for perspective.

Third, experts can use various methodologies and techniques to determine the origin and direction of the blood spatter. This can include using 3D models, computer simulation, and other methods such as using strings to estimate the trajectory of the blood drops.

Blood samples are taken with Q-tips and stored in test tubes until they can be tested for a positive match to the victim, perpetrator(s), or other source.

For dried blood, a razor is often used to scrape the blood off onto a piece of paper, envelope, or other appropriate packaging.

Visual examination requires expertise and experience in the field to interpret blood stains and patterns accurately. Experimental trials involve recreating a crime scene and analyzing the results. Forensic test results can be conclusive and objective, such as DNA analysis.

In cases where the blood has been cleaned away, it can often still be found with the use of Luminol, which is not corrosive and can be applied on all types of surfaces. It can be used to detect the presence of the very small amounts of blood or bloodstains, diluted even up to 10,000 times.

The solution of luminol and the oxidant is sprayed on the area to be examined, and the iron in blood catalyses the luminescence. A test with luminol for the presence of blood was still effective eight years after deposition of blood in soil. The older the blood stain, the brighter and longer lasting the glow.

There are some cases where luminol can not detect blood, as cleaners containing “active oxygen” (such as Oxyclean, etc) will stop all means of forsensic chemical detection of human blood.

Blood spatter analysis has been admissible in court for more than 150 years, although it has recently been called into question for its validity. In the past, blood stain evidence has been misinterpreted, leading to the incarceration of an innocent, such as in the Julie Rea case. Even so, it still remains a large part of forensic investigations. Evidence should always be interpreted with great care, and with dependable spatter analysts, it continues to be a helpful tool for investigators.

[ketsueki-k]

This scene was something intense 👀

[akashababy]

Serendipitous Encounters

Spencer Reid x Male reader

Requested by A/n

Can you write a oneshot were a male reader falls in love with reid while the team is on vacation and the team + willam spends some time helping them get together (the reader is William

Lamontagne brother who owns a popular bar/restaurant)

I did the first one wrong so made another one hope you like it

The team decided to take a well-earned break from their difficult cases once they were on summer vacation. The destination was a charming seaside town where the breeze from the water whispered tales of peace and the sun embraced the sandy coastlines. A young man by the name of M/N was one of them; he was the proud brother of William Lamontagne, the proprietor of a pub in the area.

🤎

The team's resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid, had a great mind and a charming personality. As the group got situated in their holiday house, M/N couldn't help but be enthralled by him. He could not ignore the sensations that were taking root in his heart, and every interaction with Reid seemed to light a fresh flame within him.

🤎

William Lamontagne, in the meantime, couldn't help but play matchmaker after seeing that his sibling was infatuated. With a playful twinkle in his eye, he devised a scheme to assist M/N in taking advantage of the chance to tell Reid how he felt.

🤎

Without knowing why they were there, the team agreed to go to William's tavern one evening. The spirited and humorous mood provided the ideal setting for William's plan. He winked discreetly for M/N to follow him behind the bar, where they worked out their scheme.

🤎

William got the team talking as the evening went on, and he expertly steered the conversation toward relationships and love. He successfully brought up M/N's admiration for Reid with each well-crafted inquiry. The group, always observant, started to see that the two did have a connection.

🤎

Inspired by the team's encouragement, M/N plucked up the courage to go up to Reid. He revealed his sentiments, showing how much he loved and respected her, with a tense smile. Surprised but deeply touched, Reid returned the favor by acknowledging that he had also. experienced a magnetic attraction to

M/N.

🤎

Their chat quickly evolved into a lovely sharing of vulnerabilities, aspirations, and common interests. William and the team observed as they set off on this new voyage, their hearts gladdened to see love blossoming.

🤎

Stealthy kisses, poignant moments, and stolen looks under a starry sky characterized the rest of the holiday. William cheered them on from the sidelines, and the team gave them advice, encouragement, and a shoulder to cry on.

 

🤎

Knowing that distance would not stop their love, Reid and M/N promised to take care of their relationship when it was time to say goodbye to the seaside town. William's words of encouragement and the team's blessing allowed them to go on a journey full of development, shared experiences, and unbreakable love.

🤎

So, during the breaking waves and sunsets, M/N and Reid set out on a voyage that would last a lifetime, always remembering the trip that brought them together and the love that would withstand all of life's hardships.

Fin.

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O' Hara (Across the Spider-Verse)- AU Crossover

Most nights were fairly easy.

Given the fact that you have the strength of ten men, it makes apprehending criminals simple. That’s why when this particular criminal showed up wearing a similar suit you were ready.

You expected him to cave after a punch, but he caught your arm and flipped you onto your back with intent to pin you down. That didn’t work out very well because your legs wrapped around his neck and he was now struggling to get free.

One harsh punch to the gut and he staggered back. You were on your feet in record time, the both of you huffing. If he hadn’t been so massive maybe the blow would have been more effective. 

His frame was that of a titan. 

Broad shoulders, big arms. You had every intention of running in and attacking while he was still recovering. From his bent position, he had the same idea, but the second you both got close the ringing in your head is what stops you. Your head tilts as you squint, and he lets out a similar groan of discomfort.

You finally stood upright, shock evident.

“You’re like me..” You mutter. He seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“I thought I was the only one..” His gruff tone responded.

You weren’t sure what to make of that. Now it sort of made sense. Maybe instead of trying to pummel him you should have talked it over when you saw the spider patterned suit that was somewhat similar to your own.

You weren’t sure what the next step was to take, but it’s clear he isn’t a bad guy. If that was the case your senses would be going haywire. So rather than fight, you hold out a hand.

“Do you want to team up? I think we can do more if we work together.”

“Not interested. I work solo.”

He turns and you can feel a frown rising on your face.

“Come on, you’re spiderman, I’m spiderwoman, this must be fate.”

“I don’t believe in faith. “ He held out his wrist, a stream of web hitting a nearby building.

“Stay out of my way kid.”

He jumped off the building and you were fuming.

“KID!! I’M A GROWN WOMAN YOU OLD FART!!”

He didn’t sound that much older than you, just arrogant.

“Jackass.”

The following day you walk into work a bit agitated. It’s one thing assuming you were alone, but seeing someone else out there with your abilities just made you think of how much more people were just like you waiting to be discovered.

“(Y/N)!!”

Garcia’s peppy voice rang from the hallway and you grin when she came speed walking in your direction.

“You’ll never guess what. There’s a new tech guy and he’s smoking hot! Not as hot as my chocolate thunder of course but a close second.” Her little squeal drew in Morgan JJ and Spencer.

“He looks a bit scary.” Reid commented.

“I think he’s just the tough love type, like Hotch. They sort of have the same scowl.” JJ makes a face and you smile. Hotch comes walking through the door and there’s a very tall man behind him. You have to physically stop yourself from laughing out loud because their expressions almost mirror each other.

Hotch stops when he’s in front of all of you.

“This is the team. In the event that Garcia is ever away or on leave, you’ll be covering for her. This is Miguel O’ Hara, he just joined us from the force located in New York.”

He nods, but his facial expression hasn’t changed. Garcia is the first one to shake his hands, winking suggestively. The rest of them go one by one. No doubt making their own assessments on his character. When it’s your turn, you step forward with your hand out. He means to shake it but before you make contact the ring at your temple goes off. Miguel squints. The throb at the side of his head you realize is very similar to yours. You both stare at each other in surprise.

“You..”

It’s said simultaneously.

They all exchange a look and you take a step back clearing your throat. So does he.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You both say in unison. You both go pacing off in different directions and Garcia tilts her head.

“That was really weird right, it wasn’t just my imagination.”

Morgan laughs.

“Maybe it was a one night stand.” He suggests.

“That would be terrible.” JJ adds.

Hotch breaks up the little session, ushering them all to the table as they wait for you to return to get started on the case.

You find yourself running circles in the bathroom as you try to make sense of it. Passing a hand through your hair, when you’re finally exiting, your head lifts, meeting the chocolate gaze of the man who has your brain in disarray.

“We need to talk.” Miguel speaks.

“That’s an understatement.”

You guide him to a more private area. Checking left and right of the lunch room, you turn back to him.

“Are you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, chica.”

His little spanish drawl really shouldn’t sound so good.

“I didn’t know you work here either.”

From his tone it’s obvious he isn’t pleased. There’s nothing either of you can really do. If he were to transfer out it would definitely raise some red flags.

“Why did you leave New York?”

His jaw is set. You aren’t certain if it’s from the question or the fact that he knows your occupation, so lying to him isn’t wise.

“I was trying to get away from my night job.”

“Obviously that didn’t work.”

He still looks irritated.

“Stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” He’s about to walk away, but you grab his arm.

“Wait.”

You sigh heavily, looking down.

“Listen, I know you don’t like this. I’m sorry about last night. I should have talked to you before I attacked. I can tell that this situation isn’t ideal for you, but I really do think we can do the most good by working together.” Your eyes are somewhat pleading. His body is still set in an almost defensive position and his shoulders finally slump.

“Fine. But don’t get in my way. I’m not going to be babysitting.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

From that point on, you formed sort of a pack. He couldn’t say that he really anticipated it. His day job was pretty mellow compared to your own. On the nights that he was patrolling the streets on his own, he felt his thoughts stray.

The days that he did see you, there was a light air about you. Each patrol you both did together you just seemed so carefree, unburdened. You were lively and bright. The very opposite of him. He couldn’t truly understand how you could emit so much happiness dealing with what you saw on a daily basis.

“YEAH!!”

Your shout echoed over the building as you jumped to another. Miguel was following behind, not as energetic.

“We’re here to do a job, not play around. Stay focused.”

“Could you stop being such a drill sergeant. It’s just a patrol and crime has been pretty low lately thanks to me.”

Even under the mask he can tell that you’re wearing a childish grin. You land, feet sticking to a small statue ahead as you turn upside down.

“I told you I wasn’t going to be babysitting.”

“It feels like I'm the one babysitting. Yesterday you almost got snagged by those cops.”

“I was distracted.” He grumbles.

“Mhmm, yet you keep lecturing me. It seems you're the one who needs to be focused big guy.” He hisses at you in a cat like manner and you giggle.

“Calm down blue panther, I’m just teasing.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Spider kitten?”

“Stop it.”

“Captain Meow Meow.”

“BE QUIET!!”

Oh how you loved to push his buttons. He really emitted old man energy. His stoic demeanor didn’t help either.

“Word of advice, angry bird, you might want to start being nicer to people. If you keep glaring at everyone around they’re going to think you're some kind of serial killer. I work with profilers so the less attention you draw to yourself the better. Stop leering at everyone all the time.”

“I’m not leering, this is my face.”

Of course you think he’s pulling your leg, but his expression stays neutral. You burst in a fit of laughter and he turns in the opposite direction.

“I’m leaving.”

“N-No wait..wait..I’m sorry!”

You try to get out between your soft giggles. He jumps right off the ledge and you follow along.

Clearly it would take some time, but you have a feeling that he’ll begin to open up.

One particular night he lands on a building. It’s sort of become your designated spot to meet up. You weren’t wearing your mask, the wind just blowing through your tresses as you stared at the lights. When he took a seat at your side, you sent him a smile.

“Hey.”

Your tone was soft, and it's’ when he finally looks directly at you he sees the pain you try to cover with a smile.

“No smart quips today.” He asks.

You shake your head.

“Not today.”

That’s all you say.

He doesn’t like this. He’s the one who’s supposed to be brooding and secretive. He’s gotten used to your smile. You give your head a little shake, sliding on your mask.

“Let’s get to it.”

You move to rise to your feet, but he places a hand on your shoulder and you halt.

“Yo te cubro.”

You’re not certain what he just said, but it does offer a sense of comfort. His tone alone was an invitation to lean on him with your problem. This time when you smile, it’s genuine. Even if he can’t see it.

“You know I don’t speak Spanish right.” You tease. He just looks at you blankly for a moment, but then he pulls his hand away.

“Adios.”

“W-Wait I’m just pulling your leg, come back!!”

It’s obvious to him that your antics would never truly stop.

Despite your very different personalities, Miguel has to admit that it’s nice having someone who’s not only aware of his secret, but really understands what he deals with. He’d lectured himself to be self reliant. It was second nature. Regardless of how much he put up the lone wolf act, you were relentlessly by his side.

In the more dangerous cases, you advised him that it would be better if you both tackled it together. He knew it was reckless to go against you on this mission. But you’d been gone for the last week with the team and he felt like once you returned you would need the rest. He could deal with criminals in the time being.

Except these weren’t any old criminals. When he saw the automatic guns it should have been a dead give away. That night started with an onslaught of gunshots and ended with explosions.

“You spider freak!!”

The insult yelled at him doubled with the multiple bullets that he narrowly missed was an incentive to wrap this whole thing up. He’d taken down the two men in record time. That warning throb at the back of his head alerted him that trouble was imminent and he turned just in time to catch a glimpse of the countdown from what he could only assume was a bomb stuck to the far end of that room.

“Mierda.”

It would seem that he wasn’t the only one trying to take out this crime boss. He grabbed the two unconscious bodies, sprinting for the window just as the beeping rang in the background. The explosion sent him flying out the window, the edge of flames just barely catching the back of his suit. He grunted at the shards that rammed into his back. He’d skated down the side of the adjacent building just in time to hear the cop cars ringing in the distance. Dropping the men, he pinned them up on the wall with his webs as he took off in the sky.

The trip back home was a rough one. He was a little less ecstatic that his apartment was at the very top of the building. It felt so convenient at the time, given his abilities. He basically throws himself into his window, grunting at the burns and scratches on his body. It would heal in under a week. That didn’t mean it would hurt any less. For a moment he just sat there. He was too worn out to move, and the cuts and bruises were starting to make his body go numb. It took him a moment to realize that there was a thicker piece of glass wedged in his arm and it was bleeding more profusely than the others.

He heard shuffling on the roof, and his head turned at the sound. When he saw your upside down form, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you really sleeping? There's like a massive explosion downtown at rivers avenue. I got back in about twenty minutes ago and there were cops everywhere. I was lucky to make it here without getting jumped.”

You casually jumped through the window. When you were fully inside, it seems you finally took the state of his battered form.

“Miguel..”

He could spot the worry in your voice and you basically ripped your mask off as you dropped to his form.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” He intended to resist, but he saw your stern expression and decided against it.”

“Lower bathroom cabinet.” 

You ventured over immediately, and he finally removed his own mask, turning his body in clear discomfort. You came back with the red kit, opening it and grabbing the rubbing alcohol and pieces of gauze.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to play doctor.”

“Shut up.”

He was stunned at the reply. You looked more than pissed.

“I told you to wait for me and you still went on ahead and tried to take down an entire crime organization on your own."

You slipped on some latex gloves and cleaned your hand with the alcohol. Your eyes moved to the bigger shard and you removed it. Miguel gritted his teeth at the sting when you poured the liquid onto the wound. But he stayed as still as he could. You cleaned and dressed the wound as you moved on to the others.

For about twenty minutes, you tended to him. He was almost afraid to speak with how heatedly you were glaring at each injury you cleaned and wrapped. When it was finally over, you slipped the gloves off next to the many pieces of bloody gauze you’d discarded.

“The burns are starting to heal which is great. You should feel much better in the morning. Don’t get any of those bandages wet.”

“Gracias.”

You didn’t respond to his thanks, heading for the window. He expected you to say something, anything, but you just left and he leaned against the bed with a grumble.

The days that followed, he realized that you were giving him the silent treatment. His wounds healed in the span of two days, so he was out and about, but you never joined. Outside of work, he didn’t see you at all. Three days turned into a week. A week turned into two weeks.

It became apparent that you were avoiding him, because any chance he tried to grab at a conversation you would take off in the opposite direction. It didn’t help that your job had you gone for days at a time. Even when he’d stopped by your apartment, your windows were locked and your lights would be off.

He didn’t realize how much it pissed him off not to be close to you anymore.

When he caught another agent shamelessly flirting with you in the bullpen, that was the breaking point. His large form shadowed over the man who visibly tensed.

“I need to speak with her.”

Nothing else was said. He fled so fast you could practically see the dust. Your glare trained in Miguel’s direction. It’s clear that he wouldn’t leave until you both talked and his presence was starting to draw the attention of your team. You nudged your head and he followed you down the hall. You stepped into an empty interrogation room.

“Is there a reason you’re intimidating other agents?”

“Are you going to continue running from me?”

“I don't know what you mean. You insisted that you wanted to ride solo, so I gave you what you wanted. You obviously don’t trust me so I think it’s better this way. “

“Of course I trust you.”

“I didn’t realize you became a comedian while I was away. I don’t have time for this, I need to get back.”

You turn to leave. The second he reaches to halt you, you fire a punch, one that he catches with ease. His brows are knitted in frustration, quite similar to yours.

“Why the hell are you so angry!!”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU!!”

It’s hard to hide his shock. You pull back your hand, heaving out another displeased groan.

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to see you there burned and bleeding out on the floor. My mind kept going to the worse case scenarios of that night. It was horrible. I begged you not to go and you promised me you wouldn’t but you still did. A part of me hates you…I hate you for making me feel that way..”

He feels like a complete idiot. He’s taken for granted that he no longer has to do it all on his own. He’s not used to people caring or worrying about him. He understands his mistake. Looking at you it’s obvious that it’s been eating you up inside.

“Lo siento cariño.”

From the flush of your cheeks, it’s clear that you understood that statement. He takes a step, a dangerous little smirk growing on his lips.

“Porque tan tímida.”

You shake your head furiously.

“N-No, that’s not going to work on me!! you think you could use your suave little tone and I’ll just forgive you! Not happening!!”

Your heated face says otherwise. He backs you up and when you catch sight of his fangs that peeks out when he licks his lips, you visibly swallow.

“M-Miguel w-we’re at work y-you can’t-”

The minute his large palm rests delicately on your cheek, you’ve forgotten what you planned to say.

“I don’t see the problem.”

Suddenly you miss brooding Miguel because this side of him is too much for your heart. His hand moves lower, and when he catches your bottom lip with his thumb, you feel as though you’ll implode on the spot.

“¿Quieres que te bese..”

His sultry tone is a sin in itself, and you find yourself nodding at his words.

“P-Please Miguel..”

You’re practically begging.

“Curse you duolingo!!”

If you hadn’t decided to brush up on your Spanish, his seductive words would not be having such a strong effect right now.

There’s a bit of a smirk on those delicious lips and he finally gives you exactly what you want. His hands secure around your waist, and he lifts you off the ground as your lips collide in an act of desperation. 

You hum at how perfect his lips feel against your own as if this is where they were always meant to be. His dark locks tickle your forehead and you find your hands sliding through the mass of brown tresses. The moment your tongue slips past his lips, they briefly brush his fangs. It’s strangely arousing. His tongue meets your own and you just hold on tighter.

“Miguel..”

He has you dazed with just a kiss. One of his hands has ventured lower. He gives you a soft squeeze and you moan.

Miguel is the one that draws back, he wants to take in your hazy expression.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Yeah, sure...”

You aren’t really certain what you just agreed to. All you can think about is kissing him again. Which he’s happily obliged to.