#the way i want to write a full fic where reader finds dicks journal and he has a full blown meltdown about it

[sophiethewitch1]

congrats on the milestone sophie! i'm so excited to read what you have to share with us! For your 1k celbration, if it's not too much, I'd like to ask for ABXS for Jason and Dick uwu And if ur feeling particularly sharing I'd also love an L from all of them owo

Strei!!! Thank you for the kind words, here's what you asked for. I even did the L's as well for my dearest most beloved mutual <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gen yandere behaviour, murder, stalking, worshipping/weirdly religious undertones for Dick, um pet play sort of?? Jason would bark if you asked him to is all I'm saying.

A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):

Jason: Spreading my Jason Todd Loyal Dog Agenda here but he’s so unbelievably loyal. Way, way too loyal. It doesn’t matter if he personally agrees with whatever your decisions are, he’s listening like the loyal hound he is. Will push and prod at you, but at the end of the day, he’s devoted. While he’d always prefer to be as close to you as possible, he’s willing to stay away if that’s what you really want. Simple guy, aware of himself, and mostly in control of his more fervent tendencies. He refuses to lose control of you, to take too much, so he doesn’t take any. Just giving, giving, giving. He only hopes you’ll take him.

Dick: Dick is probably one of the most clingy yanderes out there. While others might stalk you, or protect you from afar, that’s not Dick’s methodology. He wants to be with you all the time, and make you happy all the time, and he spends his afternoons daydreaming about sitting between your thighs for hours at a time. All the time, if it was possible. While he’s trying not to overwhelm you, he’ll stay as calm and charming as possible. But eventually, he’s going to have to start confessing his love to you because he feels like he’ll explode with it. Along with acts of service, physical affection, and verbal affection, he also really likes buying you things. He’s an all-rounder. Still, he prefers buying you experiences rather than items, like holidays or trips to the fair. He decides against buying you a private island to visit for the summer, but only after staring at the property page online for three hours straight. Like I said, he really is trying!

B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):

Dick: I’ve mentioned before that he’s pretty hesitant to kill. He’s gotten over his wild younger years, and is now more mature and in control of emotions. Now, all of that is one huge lie he tells himself that only lasts as long nobody ever tries to hurt you. Dick wears his heart on his sleeve, and then it gets even worse when you come around because his heart is just walking around outside his chest, with no aknowledgement for the dangers of the world. He does try, he really does, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. He’s not too bad of a sadist (also a lie) but when he easily catches whoever has been bothering you, he… well, he might play with them. Just a little bit. He doesn’t kill, he’s very careful of that, but honestly if I was that poor soul, I’d rather be dead. And then the next day, he goes back to being the cheerful sweetheart we all know and love!

Jason: I’ve also mentioned that Jason, unlike Dick, is very, very eager to get bloody. In canon, he enjoys punishing sinners and whatnot, and when he’s fallen for you, uh… So, basically, Jason would rather die than admit it, but he thinks of himself as your protector, your knight in shining leather armour. And along with that previously mentioned possessiveness, he totally lets it get out of hand. He’s aware you probably don’t want him slaughtering everyone who has ever harmed a single hair on your head, but unless you specifically tell him not to, he’s not going to stop. But if you do, he will. He’s loyal, he’s fervent in that loyalty. He wants to destroy anything that could ever hurt you. But he’d never go against your ruling, your will. He might complain about it, though. Loudly, very loudly. However, if you do want everyone who has ever annoyed you dead, he’s totally up for it no questions asked. Would probably consider it a date night of sorts.

S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):

Dick: Oh boy, this guy… He’s the poster child for childhood trauma affecting your perception of love. When his parents were murdered, he latched onto Bruce. And when Bruce kicked him out, he latched onto Bludhaven. And now when even Bludhaven can’t bring him any semblance of comfort, of home, you’re fucking heaven-sent. He latches onto you like a benign growth, and god help anyone who tries to tear the two of you apart.

Jason: Oh boy times two. Not the best childhood, raised on the streets. Taken in by Bruce, things are looking better and then- Well, we all know what happens then. After the trauma of literally digging himself out of his own grave, he feels a bit… disconnected from the world? He feels like a ghost, like he’s still dead, like his death never even mattered and the world kept going after he’d been gone. And that’d fuck up anybody, but someone personally trained by the Batman? Woof. We see in Under The Red Hood that Jason really does think vengeance is proof of love, at least in his case. To him, love is bloody and ruthless. It’s cannibalistic. A give and take. But since he doesn’t want to take from you, he’ll just give himself over wholly.

X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):

Dick: He sees you like the sun. Powerful, brilliant, beautiful. And you’ll probably burn him to cinders as he loves you, but he doesn’t care. He probably enjoys the idea a little. Wouldn’t it be nice, to die in your arms? To close his eyes and disappear into you, where he’d never be apart from you again? He realises that sort of thinking is a bit creepy, but it’s one of the few things he simply can’t fight against. Not even the littlest bit. He’s self-aware to know he’s putting you on a pedestal, that you’re not some god or something, you’re just like him. Human. Maybe that makes him worship you even more. He can’t tell, it’s too blurry these days. He just knows you’re important, more so than he is. More so than anything is, really. Also, gotta mention body worship kink. Like, he’s really way too into it honestly. He’ll service you for however long you can last, and then place a hundred kisses against your exhausted body telling you how good you did, how perfect you are. When you look at him after a session like that, you can always see something a little too intense, too crazed to be called love. He knows he’s trying to hide it. He’ll do better next time, okay?

Jason: You’re his master. The hand around the leash. He’s angry at the world, so fucking angry. He wants to destroy it all. Assuming here, you probably don’t want the entire world blown to smithereens, so you’re his… conscience. Whatever you say goes. If you say Joker dies today, then he dies. If you say he can never kill another soul, then he won’t. He’s sassy about all of it, but it’s painfully obvious to literally everyone that he will follow every single order you give. And of course, he wants it that way. Maybe he really should get a collar for himself. He thinks it’d be cute, with your name on it in brilliant gold letters. He certainly thinks that the reaction his goons would give would be worth the effort, never mind your own reaction. Call him your good boy and you will get railed so hard you break the bed, lmfao

L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):

Dick: I can’t see Dick ever actually sending you the letters he writes, but my god, he writes them. At first, it’s just little doodles in the corners of his very important paperwork, and then he’s scribbling on sticky notes, and eventually, he just gives in and buys a fucking notebook. They’re long winded and silly and he’d absolutely rather die than share them with you. But they make it just the slightest bit easier to choke down his devotion to you, so it doesn’t strangle him right then and there. He almost finds it as addicting as you are, almost being the keyword here. It’s genuinely pretty embarrassing, from an outsider’s standpoint. It’s like what a middle schooler would write in their diary, just lots of your name and hearts and very ridiculous poetry. He’d be good at it if it wasn’t about you, okay?

Jason: Jason, in direct contrast to Dick, writes very good poetry. Especially when it’s about you. It’s the sort of stuff they’ll put in museums, that future historians will write about. Of course they won’t know half of his more demented metaphors are just… straight up things he’s done for you. It’s flowing and beautiful and it’d make you tear up if you ever read it. You probably won’t just because Jason doesn’t really care if you read it, so he won’t share it with you on purpose. However if you find him one day in the library, and you ask to see whatever it is he’s made, you’ll be so very, very lucky. And Jason will turn tomato red, so that’s another plus.

Tim: Everybody knows that when Tim starts a list again, his mental health is on the decline. The list about you is concerningly long. And I’m really not saying that lightly, for Mr ‘I stalk literally everyone at least a little bit’. It’s something at four hundred thousand words by now, he’s not sure exactly. The little note app on his phone has had to suffer through hundreds or even thousands of hours of Tim writing down the most minute details of you and your life. How do you like to sit best? Is your posture okay, or should he worry about it? When you’re hungry, what food do you go for first? What about when you’re sick? If he’s ever around, tapping away on his phone, and you think he’s not paying you any attention, you’d be very, very wrong. Would probably share it with you just to laugh at your horrified face.

Damian: Damian was raised to perfect every form of art, from martial to dance, to even the more traditional ones. He’s always had a fondness for painting, and you’re most certainly his muse. Instead of letters, he paints you. For every memory he has of you, he has at least a sketch. He doesn’t care for almost all of them, as he doesn’t think they capture your beauty properly, so he doesn’t really care what happens with said drawings. Your first meeting has been drawn at least twenty times, and your sleeping face probably double that. Yes, he does draw you in more passionate poses as well. Your face all fucked out, drool leaking from your lips, is a personal favourite of his. He’ll probably share those ones with you, enjoying seeing you squirm. Asking if you want to help him find some extra inspiration because he’s all irritatingly smooth like that. Will laugh if you crush the lewd drawing up, agreeing it doesn’t do you justice. He’ll just have to try again.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

i stumbled upon ur writing looking for lady d x non-binary reader fics and ur work has just been a godsend i’m obsessed. it’s inspired me to start writing my own even though i’ve never written for fandoms before. i’ve never written for other actual characters before either so i was wondering if u could spare any tips for writing for lady d and her daughters? 🙏🏻

:D

I can certainly try! I'll divide the tips into lil sections for each characters. Might be less tips, more character observations that help me figure out how to write them? Putting under read-more for length. Also! If you ever want someone to look over what you write before you post it, I offer my services! I can't guarantee how fast I can respond, but I've been editing/proof-reading/giving general feedback for my friends for years, with everything from fanfiction to college level essays.

Alcina:

Large and in charge, literally. Regardless of the situation, Lady D wants to stay in control, or at least look like she's in control. Okay, minor exception being anything involving Mother Miranda, since she's the one person Lady D has any real respect for. Otherwise, Alcina maintains a good grasp on any situation, looking for ways to put herself in control.

For example, she often uses her height as a means to establish dominance, even within RE8 canon. If you watch a video of the Four Lords meeting, Alcina stands up once she starts arguing with Heisenberg, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate. We also see the aforementioned exception in this scene, as Lady D sort of "shrinks" a little when Miranda responds.

As much as Lady D wants to be in control, she's not always actually capable of it. In the game, we see her struggle to contain her emotions, and often releases them in outbursts. Such as the infamous vanity throwing scene (god I love that so much). It can provide some nice contrast in scenes, having Lady D be so in control one moment, then as soon as she's behind closed doors she's letting it all out.

Uses the most old-fashioned language out of her whole family. It's kind of hard to describe how one goes about writing this way, but I recommend trying to find some journals that were written in the early 1900's and reading them. Or just some classic novels (not Moby Dick, tho, that one's a bit much, in my opinion). One thing I can say is occasionally swap contractions (can't, don't, I've, etc) for the full version of the word (cannot, do not, I have, etc). Something about that always makes dialogue feel older, though I can't really explain why. Whatever you do, just don't rely too much on using synonyms. Replacing common words with their cousins can make dialogue feel "fancier", but you often run the risk of unintended connotations (feelings, positive or negative, associated with a word) messing with how a text is interpreted.

Puts up a front/facade around most people, as part of her noble background and need for control, with words like "stoic" and "composed" coming to mind. Very rough with troublemakers, no mercy. But!!! So very incredibly soft with her family/loved ones. I've seen some people accuse her of "faking" her love for her daughters, but these people either played a different game than I did, or they can't read emotions as well as I can. Gentle touches when she's checking if her kids are okay, little glances and gentle nods for reassurance, pausing a chase just to help her daughters, etc.

Bela:

Wants to make her mother proud. Legally obligated to make her mother proud, because she's the eldest daughter. Not that I know how that feels, being the younger of two children. Regardless, Bela is the most well behaved of the daughters, even when her mother isn't around. However, she does resent this position to some degree, based on in game dialogue/dialogue files that are in the game but aren't used. Personally, I see her as someone who's willing to let certain things go in exchange for favors/blackmail ammo.

Cleans up after her sisters a fair bit, sometimes literally. Feels responsible for them, to the point where their mistakes are her mistakes, and she's forced to compensate on their behalf. Because of this she ends up complaining a lot, though almost only when her family isn't around.

Still very protective of her family, she simply does most of her protecting behind the scenes. Knows how to manipulate a situation, which she probably learned from her mother, and can be quite convincing when she wants to be. Less likely to use violence to solve a problem than anyone else in the family. Will she use violence if need be, or if someone fucks up enough? Yes, absolutely, but she'll focus more on efficiency than misery (unless someone really fucks up).

Generally speaking she's more eloquent than either of her sisters, though not by much unless she's trying to impress someone (usually her mother).

Cassandra:

Two words: Angry. Horny. To her, they might as well be one word. Horngry. Cassandra struggles with her emotions more than either of her sisters, being a pressure cooker ready to pop basically all the time. It's not hard to set her off, but it can take ages for her to cool back down. Let's her frustration (of any variety) build up until she can bludgeon someone to death with it. Harshest on the servants, and spends the most time toying with others in the dungeon.

Like Bela, Cassandra wants to make her mother proud, but it's less of an obligation and more of a "I'm the middle child and feel like I don't get enough attention" type deal. Is more than willing to stoop to "tattle telling" activities in order to get the attention she craves. Usually sticks to obediently following her mother's orders or hunting down enemies, though.

Bit of an artsy type, and the most likely to take trophies from her victims. Gross ones, usually. Okay, well, that's debatable, but I'm talking about general consensus rather than my specific tastes. Personally, I don't care if she's got some weird blood paintings. Hell, I've got extra blood, and also am clumsy and bleed a lot anyway, she can have mine!

Hides her non-anger emotions as best as she can. Hates talking about her feelings (even if it helps), to the point where it's usually impossible to tell how she's feeling deep down. Remember, anger is a secondary emotion! No one is ever just angry, there's always something else hiding underneath, such as: Sadness, disappointment, loneliness, jealousy, etc. Keep this in mind when you're writing her. Make sure you pinpoint the center of her anger, and hint at it, letting her actions show her true goal.

Swears the most, easily. Tends to speak in shorter sentences than her sisters, and prefers being blunt to being eloquent/flowery.

Daniela:

Love, love, love, love, love, ahhhh deep breath... love. Loves love, or at least what she processes as love. Would do anything for romance. Except she also craves "natural" romance, creating a sort of paradox that adds to her delusions, as she engages in the pursuit of unintentional romance (not to be confused with "The Pursuit of Unintentional Humor", a song that I very, very much enjoy). Wants to be loved for who she is at the same time that she attempts to mold herself into a more lovable shape. Struggles with intimacy, wanting to feel vulnerable without actually being so.

On some level she understands that draining people of their blood, and then drinking said blood, is not equatable to a healthy relationship. But seeing as this is the most common form of supposed "intimacy" that she experiences, she refuses to acknowledge the true nature of what she does. Instead she clings to the idea of "forever bonding" with her partners, pretending that each one is still with her, even when she no longer remembers their names.

Hates being rejected, no matter how gently. "Ugly" cries, but only if she's alone, often turning her pain into anger, just like Cassandra. However, her outbursts don't seem to last as long. In reality, her breakdowns simply occupy the inside of her existence, rather than the outside. Sure, she's giggling and causing chaos, like usual, but on the inside she's breaking a record for most depressing internal monologue.

Reads a ton, but not always "quality" books. Goes through a dozen books or more a week, often rereading her favorites several times, mainly within the romance genre (obvs). This affects her speech a fair amount, making her both cheesy and occasionally smooth as hell.

[hotchslut]

believe it’s the fright

spencer reid/reader (strangers to enemies to lovers)

week one | week two | week three | week four | week five | week six | week seven | week eight | week nine | week ten

summary: though horribly unqualified, somehow (y/n) lands a gig interning for the bau department in quanitco. already nervous beyond belief about starting her new job, the first person she meets seems determined to make her time with the team a living hell.

a/n: because the internship period with the fbi is ten weeks, this is going to be a ten part fic with each part being a new week. i always wanted spencer to have a girl in his life who wouldn't kind of baby him like the rest of his friends do and also love the idea of opposites attract when it comes to such a specific character like him. i also think spencer can unknowingly be a bit of a dick sometimes and we never really talk about that, so here's to exploring that side of his person a bit more. this first chapter acts more as a prologue, introducing you to the characters and circumstances. next chapter will have more of the two interacting and working together. please enjoy!! <33

The goal was simple. Finish the 10 week internship at the Quantico division of the FBI without screwing everything up. Hopefully, she’d leave a positive enough impression to secure a job for herself immediately after. Realistically, she knew she would end up barely scraping by, but at least she’d have enough practical experience to write a believable award winning screenplay about the ins and outs of a special agents life.

She knew she wasn’t in the right field. She was basically just a film student. But after graduating from a school she hadn’t even left her hometown to attend, she was desperate for some real life experiences, and how many people could say they had worked with the FBI, even for just a little bit? Her electives in journalism and visual arts had been enough to meet the internship requirements, her GPA was undeniably impressive thanks to a fairly easy course load, and no one could argue that she was one hell of an interviewee. So there she was, all alone in a new state, walking into the biggest and most intimidating building she had ever stepped foot in, to start working an internship she wasn’t even sure how she booked. She had been told it was her passion which had gotten her there, but she couldn’t help but thinking about how painfully stupid the other applicants must have been to allow her to be in this position.

“What floor?”

As she stepped into the elevator she looked up to see a man, she assumed was only a little older than herself, with his fingers hovering over the buttons. She was shocked, or maybe annoyed - which definitely translated to jealous - that someone so young could have such a stable career already. He must just be another intern.

“Six, thank you,” she said, a little louder than she intended. The man pressed the button but looked at her with hesitance.

“Are you sure?” He asked, still waving his fingers near the buttons, as if he was waiting for her to correct herself so he could make sure she got to the correct floor.

Fuck. This is exactly what she had been worried about. She had checked her introductory email 3 times just on the walk from the front door to the elevator so she could be absolutely certain she was heading to the right floor. “Uh, yeah, I can check the email again,” her voice wandered off as she pulled out her phone to quadruple check. The elevator was going up quite quickly, like a ticking clock, as she scrolled to find the information she was looking for before they arrived. “Yeah, no, it’s the 6th floor.” she turned her phone for him to look at, but he didn’t, he just looked at her. There was nothing she hated more than a starer.

“My bad,” he said excruciatingly slowly. “I’m Spencer. I guess I’ve just never seen you around.”

Guess that meant he wasn’t an intern. Something about him was putting her off. She had hardly spoken a word to him and she could already feel his raging superiority complex. “Well, it’s my first day,” she explained as the elevator doors opened. He started to walk out, giving her a faint smile.

Spencer made his way over to his desk, briefly looking back at (y/n) to make sure she was out of ear shot. She was standing uncomfortably, looking at her phone, which he assumed she was using as a shield to mask that she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing.

“What’s with the new girl?” He asked JJ and Derek who were already seated.

JJ almost instantly perked up. “I didn’t know we were getting a new girl,” she confessed, looking over at (y/n), who was still in the same position.

“She’s a little underdressed for her first day, don’t you think?” Spencer judged. The three of them started examining her, with little to no subtlety.

(y/n) had been anxious about this. She spent three hours the night prior, trying to decide on an outfit that she thought would be appropriate. Everything she tried on either felt under or over dressed, but in the end she felt that comfort was the most important thing. Besides, in ten weeks time, no one was going to remember what she wore on her first day.

So there she stood, at the front of the bullpen terrified, in a black crewneck with a collared shirt underneath, french tucked into some black mom jeans and vans on her feet. She had absolutely no idea where to go. All she knew was she had to find Aaron Hotchner’s office, as she was supposed to be shadowing him for her time there. She quickly read and reread the email, trying to find any hint of where Hotchner’s office could be. She didn’t look up until she sensed someone walking straight towards her.

“You look a little lost,” Derek said, stopping in front of her.

A forced laugh was all she gave him, as she looked through her phone. She didn’t want to admit that she needed help already, but when he didn’t move, she brought her eyes back up. The first thing she saw wasn’t even Derek, it was Spencer, sitting at his desk, looking right at her. Why was this guy so weird? Did he send this other guy to check in on her? “I’m, uh, looking for Aaron Hotchner’s office,” she finally explained, turning to Derek for some unwanted but highly needed help.

“Just up there,” he explained, pointing to one of the only offices even in the room. His voice was soft, and she didn’t feel judged by him for not knowing anything. “I’m Derek.” He held out his hand, which (y/n) was happy to take.

“I’m (y/n),” she shook his hand with a genuine smile. “I like that you shake.” She wasn’t sure why she said that, and tried to fix it with a simple, “Thank you,” before nodding towards him and heading up to Hotchner’s office.

The door was closed, which left her feeling more uneasy than it should have. Didn’t he know she was coming? It would have been a lot less threatening if he had just left it open for her to peak her head in. Nothing about this experience had been exactly welcoming thus far.

After some hesitation, she finally knocked on the door. Definitely louder than she meant to. As she waited for someone to open the door, she could feel eyes on the back of her head. She wasn’t sure if it was because Spencer was actually still looking at her, or if it was just the feeling he left her with. He was like a spider in the distance that once you see, you can suddenly feel crawling all over you. Luckily these thoughts and feelings were interrupted when Hotch opened the door and ushered her in.

“Hello, (y/l/n), come in. Take a seat. I’m Aaron Hotchner, it’s great to have you with us,” he remarked, waiting for her to take a seat before he followed suit behind his desk. (y/n) thanked him quietly before he continued, “(y/l/n), I have-”

“I am so sorry to interrupt, but I kind of hate that, so can you just call me (y/n),” she pleaded, laughing slightly so he knew she wasn’t trying to be mean.

Hotch was taken aback, but politely obliged before explaining the role she would be taking on with the BAU. He was about halfway through speaking with her, when she realized she had not been processing any of the information she was being given. She couldn’t help it - she was a visual learner and Hotch was doing nothing to accommodate that. Not that she thought it was his fault, either.

“I know you passed all your training very well, but obviously you’re not cleared to be in the field, so when I do have to leave with the team, we’ll have you stay behind to work on the paperwork and be a resource to us here,” Hotch paused, noticing how overwhelmed she looked by all the information.

They maintained silent eye contact while (y/n) tried to process everything before piping up. “Can I have a gun?”

Hotch continued to look her in the eyes. Always the profiler, he was irritated that he couldn’t read if she was joking. Taking a risk in assuming she was, he wittily replied, “When you solve your first case.”

“Deal.” She smiled in return, as she noticed Hotch’s lips curl just slightly as well. She could tell he was going to be a tough one to completely break, but she was willing to accept that challenge.

“Now, unfortunately we don’t have any active cases for you to look through,” he began again before being interrupted by his phone beeping. He immediately looked down and sighed, “I stand corrected.”

(y/n) laughed, a genuine laugh before remarking, “I was literally just going to say, how funny would it be if that was a case coming in.”

Hotch didn’t react, he just grabbed his things and stood up, prompting (y/n) to do the same.

Everyone had gathered around the round table, with Garcia standing in front, ready to present the case, when Hotch and (y/n) walked in. “Everyone, this is (y/n) (y/l/n), she’ll be joining the team as an intern, she’s been assigned to shadow me,” Hotch introduced the girl who observed the room full of people. She quickly grew uncomfortable when she saw Spencer, giving her a quizzical look. Hotch continued to introduce everyone by name, but (y/n) was hardly listening. “And this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” he finished off.

“We’ve met,” she spat coldly, earning a head nod from the apparent doctor. She suddenly noticed there were only two remaining seats, one of which was next to Spencer. Before she could get moving, Hotch began walking over the other seat, across the table. She stepped forward, trying not to broadcast the reluctance she was feeling. As she moved to get comfortable she saw Spencer trying to give her a welcoming smile through her periferal, but her stubborn nature forced her not to acknowledge it.

“Alright, if everyone’s settled and comfortable, you won’t be for very long,” Garcia spoke with slight disgust of what she knew she was about to say, “Thomas Victor, 34, found dead in his girlfriend's kitchen.”

The team all leaned forward slightly as Garcia put up photos of the victim and crime scene. (y/n) was the only one smiling; she had never seen crime scene photos in real time before. Being a fan of horror and true crime, she found this to be almost fun. It wasn’t until she noticed Spencer noticing that she herself noticed, and had to remind herself this was, in fact, real, and probably not something to get too giddy over.

“Zoom in on the neck,” Derek instructed. Garcia followed, never turning to face the screen. “Look at that stab wound.” He was right - That stab wound to the neck was nasty… And oddly circular.

“What could’ve caused something like that?” JJ pondered out loud.

Garcia’s eyes lit up before remarking, “Aha. That we know. There was a bloody corkscrew on the ground. There was also a very nice bottle of red on the counter, so my guess is the unsub caught poor old Thomas preparing some wine for him and his lady and-” She shrugged, allowing the team to infer the rest.

“Where’s the girlfriend in all of this?” JJ asked.

“Nowhere to be found,” Garcia explained, scrunching up her face, as if she felt bad for not being able to help out any further.

Hotch sat up straight, asking, “Garcia, what more do we know about the victim?”

“Relatively low risk. Worked a 9-5 office job downtown. Rumour on the street is, he had just started seeing this girl, um, Melaney,” Garcia looked down at her notes, “Paulinchuck. Friends say they had been talking on an online dating site for just a couple days before meeting for the first time. Last night was supposed to be their 5th date.”

“You know, with online dating on the rise, so are the numbers of first dates resulting in violent crime,” Spencer chimed in, adjusting himself in his seat, “Just in the last five years alone, reports of abuse and even murder spiked drastically within the online dating community.” Just as (y/n) thought he was about to shut up, he kept going. “In fact, police in the UK are dealing with approximately 20 online dating related crimes a week. You hate to think about how bad it could be here in America, a statically more violent country.” He nodded to himself and sucked both of his lips in, waiting for a response from anyone.

“Very cool, Spencer,” (y/n) whispered sarcastically, hopefully not loud enough for everyone to hear.

JJ tried backing him up by adding, “So, there’s a fairly high chance this missing girlfriend is actually our unsub.”

The team started bouncing ideas off each other while Garcia kept spewing off potentially helpful information, but for the life of her (y/n) could not focus. She didn’t want to fuck up her first case by not being able to recall important information from this initial meeting, but if Spencer clicked his pen one more time…

“We’ve got a lot of digging to do on both the victim and his girlfriend. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch eventually announced. Everyone stood quite hastily, going to grab their things and head to the plane. Garcia stayed put, gathering all of her belongings, while Spencer seemed to be moving at the pace of an injured turtle. (y/n) just sat, relatively unsure of what she was to be doing. She knew she was to stay at the headquarters and process the paperwork from the case and be readily available to help the team in any way she could from her position, but there wasn’t exactly anything to work on until they actually arrived on the scene. Plus she didn’t even have a desk.

Not wanting to look like she was stalling from getting any work done, she decided to strike up a conversation with Spencer, who was still placing papers into his file. Without looking at him, she said, “You’re a little young to be a profiler, aren’t you?” When he didn’t immediately reply, she assumed it was because he heard it all the time and she was either boring him or accidentally offending him. Unfortunately, the curse of her anxiety forced her to continue, “I mean, I’m 22 and I’m only an intern, I can’t imagine having a whole ass career with the FBI already. And a doctorate, huh? How do you even find time to accomplish so much in so few years?”

Spencer had finished getting himself together while she rambled, and threw his satchel over his shoulder. “Well, I’m not 22, I’m 33,” was all he gave her in response.

(y/n) was taken aback. “Could’ve fooled me. You look 20.” She wasn’t sure if he would take that as an insult or a compliment, but she wasn’t quite sure which she meant it to be anyways.

“But I got my first doctorate at 17, so either way,” he trailed off.

His first doctorate. (y/n)’s blood boiled. The way he was basically standing over her and rubbing in her face just how smart he was. Not that he had actually done anything wrong, she knew he was just answering the questions she had initially asked, but she hated people who were smarter than her. More, she hated people who were smarter than her and weren’t shy about letting her know. Granted, she knew she wasn’t all that intelligent, so most people were significantly smarter anyways, but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

“I have to go. Good luck with your first case, intern. You’ll need it,” He spoke, emphasis on “you’ll” as if anyone else wouldn’t need the luck.

(y/n) watched him leave, like she was throwing daggers to the back of his head with her eyes. “He’ll grow on you,” Garcia smiled, about to leave the room herself, octopus mug in hand. (y/n) wanted so badly to retort with how certain she was that he wouldn’t, but refrained. She didn’t want to come across as a judgemental bitch on her first day. “I’m heading to my lair, so just holler if you need me!”

About an hour of scrolling her facebook and instagram feeds had passed, before (y/n) decided she should probably take some initiative and get some work done. The issue was, she still didn’t know exactly what it was she was supposed to do until she got some information from a profiler. It took some internal convincing, but eventually she walked out towards the hall, looking for Garcia’s office. She figured she might have some work she needed help with, and (y/n) was happy to help until she had a task of her own. She didn’t know where her office was, but it only took a few minutes of wandering around like a fool before she found it. The door was locked and needed a keycard to open which (y/n) clearly didn’t have yet, so she knocked. She didn’t know why she was so scared, she just didn’t want to get anything wrong. It was no secret she was going to be the dumbest one on the team, and she didn’t need another thing for Spencer to have against her.

Garcia must have been waiting, or, alternatively be a really fast runner, because the door opened almost immediately. “Yes, hello, how may I assist you padawan?”

“Um, I don’t really have anything to work on yet, so I thought maybe you could make use of me? I also, uh, don’t have, like, a desk, or space, to set up,” (y/n) laughed as if she was telling a joke, which she wasn’t, but the nerves were building up.

Garcia lit up, radiating enthusiasm. “Yes, yes of course,” she practically squealed, ushering (y/n) into her office and pulling up a chair. “We will get you to work right away, and I’ll set you up with a desk immediately after. But first, work.”

Suddenly any trace of anxiousness disappeared, and for the first time all day, (y/n) was completely absorbed with excitement. Maybe it was the motherly tone of Garcia’s voice, or maybe it was the assortment of figurines and toys surrounding her computers, but something about this dark room was comforting.

Garcia spent the next few hours with (y/n), showing her the basics of her program; the stuff anyone could pick up on. As she was explaining how to follow a phone’s GPS on the map, a phone rang, startling (y/n).

“Hellooooo, my big brained beauty, I am at your service,” Garcia quipped into her cell, as she put it on speaker for the two of them to hear.

“Two things. I need you to check Melaney’s employment history, go as far back as you can. I’m talking about high school jobs. I also have a hit on her new phone number since the one on file was out of service, so I need you to see if you can track it,” Spencer didn’t ask, he instructed, before reading off the number.

“Yes, yes, easy peasy lemon squeezy. (y/n), you got the phone?”

(y/n) didn’t speak, not wanting to converse with Spencer, she just nodded and got to work. She was still a little hesitant around the system, so she knew it would take a couple extra minutes.

Spencer didn’t speak for a moment either, but as (y/n) was coming to learn, that boy didn’t stay silent for long. “(y/n)’s there?” he questioned Garcia, as opposed to just speaking to (y/n) directly.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” (y/n) teased.

“Aren’t you an intern? Shouldn’t you be bringing Garcia her coffee, not trying to intervene with the case the adults are working?” Spencer snapped. Though nothing in his tone would suggest it, she knew it had to be a joke. There was no way he was that mean.

(y/n) dug back almost immediately, “I’m not that kind of intern, dumbass.” She didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out. It was what she called all her friends when they were joking around, the only difference being Spencer was not her friend.

It felt like minutes passed before Garcia yelled, “Hit ya back!” and hung up the phone.

Four days had gone by, and (y/n) was loving her new job. She had finally had the chance to help out every member of the team, at least over the phone. Garcia had kept her promise and helped her pick out a desk. The catch being, there were only two available, so it was either across from Spencer or squished in with another team. Since Spencer was away, she didn’t exactly mind her new spot, but she also knew that would change the moment they had to spend a whole day just feet apart. Garcia was still insisting that the two would grow close, because according to her, no one ever disliked Spencer. But also according to Garcia, he was charming and had one of the kindest souls she had ever come across. Sure, she technically knew him much, much better than (y/n), but somehow she found those claims hard to believe.

The case had closed, and (y/n) was working on the last bit of her paperwork when she heard the team wandering into the bullpen.

“What are you doing there?” a shrill voice asked from behind her, and it didn’t take a genius to know it was Spencer trying to accuse her of something. He made his way to his side of the desk and took a seat, staring her in the eyes, waiting for a response.

“This is my desk, Spencie. I’m like a real team member now.” She grinned, gesturing to her space, which she had set up with a few personal items and had organized neatly.

He didn’t smile back, he just quietly mumbled, “Not really.”

Spencer didn’t try to continue the conversation, but (y/n) wasn’t done. Besides, she was dying to talk to someone who wasn’t Garcia. As lovely as the woman was, (y/n) found she appreciated her more in small doses. “So, is four days, like, average? Like, for solving cases?” she asked, genuinely curious as to what to expect in the future.

“2.367,” Spencer spoke, not looking up from the piece of paper in his hand.

“Okay, yeah,” she replied, with an influxion in her voice that told Spencer she had no idea what he was saying.

“That’s how many days it takes us on average to solve a case, from the time we get debriefed on the details here to the time we’re getting ready to board the jet back home.”

(y/n) dropped everything and leaned forward. She made sure to catch his eye before speaking, “I just love how you’re so specific about everything. All your statistics? Absolutely fascinating to me. Anyone else would’ve just said it was about 2 and a half days, but you… You’re clearly so much better than anyone else, because you give exacts. Super cool.”

Spencer subconsciously started playing with the pen on his desk, indicating he was getting upset, but beyond that, he kept his cool. He couldn’t let her win. Not that easy. “You don’t find it fascinating.”

“No, I find it weird. And annoying.”

Just when Spencer was about to completely rip into her, Hotch came down the stairs and interrupted. “That was a draining one, I want everyone to head home, get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he gave his farewell. Before heading to the elevator, he turned to (y/n). “Good work, (y/n), it’s great to have you on this team.”

She smiled and thanked him, making sure to throw in a joke in an attempt to crack him, before turning back to Spencer, who was already on his feet and raring to go. “Night, Spence,” she spoke while gathering her things up herself.

“Don’t call me that,” was all he said as he left the office. Something about the way he said it made (y/n) feel bad for the first time. All she was doing was wishing him well on his way out and he had to make her feel like shit over it. Over a nickname. She made a mental note that “Spence” was apparently crossing a line while she waited for the elevator that he was on to go down, so she didn’t have to leave the building with him.