The day he walked through those doors, everything changed; even the BAU's environment bent and twisted with Malcolm 'Mac' Baker's raunchy attitude. However, Spencer Reid, a special agent in the same department, detested change. He wasn't fond of Malcolm's arrogance. No intern has ever sauntered the halls with a jaded approach matched with a blaring pride like his. He was trouble, nothing but chaos. Spencer couldn't understand why the other agents were so endeared by Malcolm's negligent mindset. So, he began profiling the newcomer, finding himself obsessed with Malcolm's every notion and quirk, determined to uncover something immoral beneath the cracks of his suave personality. He even created a mental list of all the things he loathed about Malcolm Baker: 1. His poised walk. 2. His loud laugh. 3. His eristic personality. 4. His crude language. 5. His outrageous music taste. 6. His charming smile. 7. His wrinkly shirts. 8. His smelly cigarettes. 9. His deep blue eyes. 10. His stupid sunglasses. (Etc...) But what Spencer hated most of all was that his obsession was driven by lust and adoration, not distasteful disapproval. All that pesky annoyance he felt toward the intern was just a subconscious cover for the lustful desires he tried so hard to hide. And to make matters worse, Malcolm might just happen to feel the same way about him. CRIMINAL MINDS ╱ S1-? Male Oc 𝔁 Spencer Reid Female Oc 𝔁 Emily Prentiss

"𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒆." "𝑰'𝒎 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅, 𝑹𝒆𝒈." "𝑱𝒂𝒄𝒌... 𝒘𝒆'𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆." "𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰'𝒎 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒗𝒊𝒃𝒆𝒔. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒋𝒐𝒃." // clinomaniiaa 2025 \\ ★ Reggie Peters x Male!OC ★ • Julie and the Phantoms

Pinging pagers, beeping machinery, carts clattering down the halls, medicine bottles shaking, papers shuffling-he was one second away from killing everyone, the Hypocratic Oath be damned. Who was this to-be murderer? Dr. Fenrir Ragnulf. Head doctor and the youngest medical practitioner on the East Coast. At twenty-five, he feels eighty-seven and is highly dependent on the two big '-ines,' caffeine and nicotine. Despite his largely Scandinavian background, he's a Gothamite through and through. A few years in Norway couldn't compare to twenty in America's beloved cesspit. The doctor ran on coffee and pure, bitter spite as he bounced between his two places of work-Elliot Memorial Hospital, his primary position, and Arkham Asylum, where he was more of an outside consultant but apparently important enough to have his own office. As if dealing with sick people and psychos wasn't enough, he also had his fair share of interactions with the local cryptids. Especially one dumbass in particular.