#DC can catch these hands

[timdrakeismypatronus]

I'm bitter so let's fight:

The correct answer is "all of the above" but I'm forcing everyone to choose.

#Don't be shy keep listing things #okay so maybe Batfam pet peeves is more accurate instead of DC #DC can catch these hands #batfamily #batbros #tim drake #batfam #batman #incorrect batfamily quotes #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #bruce wayne

[hayaku14]

KAISHIN STANS WE EATING GOOD

#kaishin #kidco #kaitou kid #edogawa conan #dcmk #detective conan #YO DETCO STAFF I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE #I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT #WE WANT THE EXACT SAME THING SWEETIE CALL ME UP AND LET'S TALK GAY DETECTIVE AND THIEF CHASING EACH OTHER UNDER THE MOONLIGHT 😏 #the way conan is reaching out in a desperate attenpt to catch kid and kid jumping just an arm's reach away but also having his right hand #near conan as if in a defensive stance but can also be seen as a protective motion just in case conan falls or does something reckless #JUST DEFINITIVE KAISHIN RELATIONSHIP IN ONE FRAME #THE WAY CONAN ONLY HAS HIS EYES ON KID AND NOTHING ELSE AS HE RECKLESSLY REACHES OUT FOR KID AAAAHHHHHHHHH #IM GONNA LOSE MY FUCKIGN MONG OVER ONE GODDAMN FRAME #brain: now imagine if that was shinichi and kaito #me: RAAAAHHHCJIFFJDKJCSKDNCKSNAKXJ FUCK #dc prattles #this is from the new ED song btw lol

[p1nkshield]

I like to think that because Clark has never so much as experienced a scraped knee his whole life his pain tolerance is capping out at like a 1 on the pain scale.

Clark having to deal with a temporary loss of power bc something something kryptonite would be such an ordeal

Clark: AARGH! GREAT SCOTT!

Lois: Clark?!? What happened?

Clark: ugh… paper cut! :(

Lois: -_-

Later he forgets about it and uses some hand sanitizer and just passes out.

#dc headcanon #clark kent #superman #lois lane #the exact opposite of Bruce it’s just a gunshot wound Wayne #idk if Clark even needs hand sanitizer #can Superman catch a cold?

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Roy, picking up the new West baby: Oh man, I'm getting flashbacks to when Lian was this little!

Roy, speaking to the baby: You are just too cute! Yes, you are!

Wally: Woah! Roy you really shouldn't be picking up the baby without padding. Also a helmet. And gloves. Where did I put the gloves?

Roy: Wally, chill. Don't be such a helicopter parent. I'm not going to drop your baby or anything. Your baby is perfectly safe, so you can put the protective gear away.

Wally, slowly taking the sleeping baby out of his hands: Oh no, Roy, the protective gear isn't for the baby.

Wally: It's for you

Roy:

Wally: I'd just hate to see a newborn take you out, you know?

#wallys son has super strength and can demolish buildings with a clap of his hands #wallys daughter can run at supersonic speeds and generate lightning #wally himself can explode anything he touches #and change the speed of objects and catch things on fire and melt them #anyway theres a reason why the twins didn't live in central city until they were old enough to control their powers #dc #dc comics #the flash #kid flash #wally west #roy harper

[hailsatanacab]

Chapters: 10/? Fandom: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Danny Fenton & Damian Wayne, Batfamily Members & Danny Fenton Characters: Danny Fenton, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne are Twins, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Bad Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Mugging, Medical Torture, Vivisection, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, Child Neglect, Past Child Abuse Summary:

“If you ever find yourself in danger, go to Bruce Wayne. He will help you.”

His mother had loved him, in her own way. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have helped him escape. If she hadn’t, she would have dragged him back to the League of Assassins, to Grandfather. If she hadn’t, he’d be dead.

She loved him, but she loved the League more.

Jack and Maddie Fenton loved him too, they did, but they loved their work more.

They loved their work more.

--

After his parents react poorly to his reveal, Danny escapes to the only person he thinks can help him - Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know what to expect when he gets there, but it has to be better than where he is, surely? He certainly doesn't expect to be reunited with his long lost twin brother Damian. It's funny how things work out that way.

Danny is 16 years old, not Phantom Planet compliant

--

Capter 10!! Chapter 10!! Chapter 10!!

#danny phantom #batman #dp x dc #dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #uh guys we're at chapter 10 can we just pause and say holy shit to that?? #sorry it's still so weird to me that I'm actually doing this?? and still doing it #i've not given up (yet) lmao #BUT i am taking a short break :0 sorry #no more updates until september!!! i'm sorry #but i've not written at all and it's not sustainable haha #i got onto chapter 10 to do a last minute edit before posting and WOOF it was like i'd completely forgotten how to write haha #double digits guys how crazy #anyway not that you need or want to know but there's a cricket just outside my window and it's driving me round the bend #on the one hand i'm hit with the immense sadness that it's just the one cricket you know? Oh i wonder if it's a grasshopper instead #do they both make noise? how can you tell? #but also go to sleep i'm tired stop making noise #there used to be a log across the road in the verge that they never cut - there'd be crickets galore and little lizards that we'd try and #catch #all gone now how sad #bring back hedgerows! #ANYWAY i am to sleep - if the crickets are willing #thank you all for reading and i love you all please enjoy this chapter and leave these tags with my sincerest apologies for the short hiatu #s #lmao i love you all goodnight

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Captain Marvel: i wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy. unless we are talking about my ENEMY Guy Gardner.

Captain Marvel: fuck you Guy Gardner, you know what you did

Guy Gardner, sweating:

Most the rest of the JL:???

#based off one specific comic incident #guy Gardner can catch these hands #weather they’re a 12 year olds or godly strong he needs a good punch #///// #shazam #billy batson #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #guy gardner #dc comics #dc #captain marvel

[nothazellevesque]

a man self immolated in front of the israeli embassy in washington dc yesterday. not just any man. an active member of the us air force. he live streamed his death, and said that he refused to be complicit in a genocide any longer. he said that compared to what palestinians were facing every day, setting himself alight was nothing.

let me reiterate. an active duty air force member burned himself alive because he was so disgusted by what the us government was openly supporting. he live-streamed his own suicide, so the whole world could bear witness as a man in his military uniform set himself on fire to protest his government’s complicity in the horrors that we have all been forced to watch happen in real time. he became a new horror. footage of the immolation blurs him out the moment the fire catches, but you can hear him. it is over in seconds, really, but you can hear him screaming. he shouts “free palestine” until his body physically cannot make any sounds other than guttural screams of agony. and then he falls silent. a police officer arrives and points a gun at his still burning body, shouting at him to get down on the ground. and it is over.

his name was Aaron Bushnell. he was twenty five years old. and he isn’t here anymore because the political ruling class has decided that genocide is perfectly fine as long as it preserves imperialism. in the coming days, people will try to discredit him. to say that he was mentally unstable. they will try to bury his actions to save face and defend israel’s propaganda. do not let them. aaron knew what he was doing. he knew what he was doing when he put on his military uniform, set up his twitch stream, and made his final walk up to the embassy. he knew what would happen to him when he flicked that lighter. do not let them forget. aaron’s blood is on the hands of the political ruling class.

#free palestine #free gaza #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #Aaron bushnell #aaron’s livestream likely made it so much harder to bury this like the media did to the last person who self immolated #the least we can do is not forget him #gaza strip #gaza #palestine

[bats-and-the-birds]

There is a sort of trope that I've noticed in DC media where Batman is infinitely stranger from anyone else's perspective than his own. In his own comics and movies and such his motives are explained to you, you have his inner monologue, but the moment you put him in someone else's story, you're met with a general vibe of 'what the fuck is wrong with that man? is that a man? might be a demon.'

And this 100% extends to the batkids.

Dick? The man has no bones. From an outside perspective, he leaps before he looks, grinning and laughing as be backflips off buildings with seemingly no plan, only to catch himself with a grapple at the last minute. He's charming and warm until he can't be, and then he's terrifying, with a glare and temper that rivals the Bat's.

Jason? He has deadly aim and a steady hand. He's hulking and strong, but he's also silent. He still moves like a bat, like he was taught to in his Robin days, despite the fact that he's taller and broader than Bruce now. The Red Hood could appear out of the shadows behind you, no matter how safe you are, and you wouldn't be able to do anything to stop it.

Tim? He's smart. They're all smart, but he's smart smart. And his ethics and intelligence don't always mesh. He could tear down any security system with frightening efficiency, then rebuild it better. Logically, he's always five steps ahead.

Damian? He's the most obviously terrifying. He's small, and angry, and he has a sword that he knows how to use with frightening efficiency. He's as viscous as his father can be, but with a temper that more unchecked. He learned how to kill before he learned how to protect.

Duke, Cass, and Steph also fall under this, but I don't know enough about them to make accurate judgements.

Anyway, what I'm saying is the rogues and the Justice League alike fear the Bats, and for good reason.

#batman #comics #dc comics #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin dc #dc robin #justice league #batfamily #batfam

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #6

Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.

He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.

"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.

"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."

It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:

Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is

Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is

Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.

Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,

"Did you?"

"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.

It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.

"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."

"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.

He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.

"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.

"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.

"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.

"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."

"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.

"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."

None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.

"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.

Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.

"Phantom, what are these?"

"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."

"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.

Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.

"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"

"They're my kryptonite."

Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.

"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."

That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.

Then the rest of his words click together.

"You're giving me these," Bruce says.

"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."

"To grow."

Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.

The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.

And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.

I had a nightmare.

"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.

"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.

Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"

Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.

Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.

"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."

He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.

"I promise, Phantom."

"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"

"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."

#I watched Epilogue from JLU right before this #can you tell #I'm in my feelings so hard rn #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #my writing #batman #danny phantom

[sanguineterrain]

window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 

"How'd they get you?" you ask. 

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to. 

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself." 

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 

"Can I crash here?" 

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 

"What're you doing?" you ask. 

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines." 

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 

"You're tired of me," he says. 

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 

"I'd be tired of me." 

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 

"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 

"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x gender neutral reader #batman fanfiction #dc fanfic #batman imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC xDP fanfic idea: One hell of a good Bellhop

Danny and Jazz Fenton get a chance of a lifetime after a whirlwind of dimension displacement. It's hard to explain how it happened. One minute, they were visiting Clockwork, having tea with their surrogate grandfather, and the next, they were being attacked by what appeared to be woolly mammoths standing on two legs and carrying weapons.

Clockwork had dispatch to take them head on- timeline pests he called them- but in the confusion Danny and Jazz were taken by suprised, stuffed into sacks and thrown through a whirlpool turned portal that spit them out in a new world.

They tried to call Clockwork for help, but it was as if though the Ghost Zone was blocked by some power. Danny at least still had his ghost powers and Jazz was equipped with the standard Fenton weapons on her person, but that wasn't much help when between the two of them they had sixty dollars and thirty four cents to their names.

Drivers' invalid licenses, phones that weren't connected to any service, and maybe worse of all, no actual identity to speak of.

The Fentons simply didn't exist in this world. Not even their four fathers. The two were at a loss on what to do- for about three months. Then they put their Fenton intelligence to use and hacked into a hotel.

It was a run-down place in the heart of downtown Gotham- the place that the portal shot them to was Metropolis. Still, people paid way too much attention to homeless minors there, so they had to move after dodging a weird underwear guy who kept trying to capture Danny. Apparently, he thought Danny was a "Kryptonian Clone". Fruitloop.

Jazz thought they were the only guests in the Hotel, which is why the owner was so happy to host them for weeks instead of a few days. He was a sweet old man named Charles who was far too old to work but couldn't afford the staff, so he did everything himself.

Jazz felt an awful pity seeing him sit at his counter, staring hopefully at the door for any new guests whenever she returned from her work. It was heartbreaking to see Charles' eyes dim whenever the closing time came, and once again, no one stopped by. At this point, he kept the hotel open in a sad, broken dream.

Where did she work? Danny didn't know, but Jazz made him swear she would handle their expenses. She kept a tight lip on her day, and since Danny had no documentation to go to school with, he found himself helping Charles with maintenance.

He has no license to do anything, but Danny has been installing electricity, water pipes, and anything in between since he was young. FentonWorks always needed something fixed, after all.

He even went out and "borrowed" some paint cans to give the old place a little touch-up. Charles' eyes watered when he saw.

"My wife and I meet at this hotel, you know," Charles tells him one day as Danny patches up some old bricks. He runs to find the old man, gently running his hand along the fireplace. A picture of two young people dancing in the Hotel Lobby—back when it was new and shiny—is hanging right over it. It's easy to see it's Charles and his late wife, Sally.

"Of course, that was back in the forties—a few years after the war and before Gotham was crime-infested. We always wanted to run this place together. We worked two jobs, and when we finally had enough, we bought it from the old owners when they announced they were closing down. We were so happy and ran it together for a year, but then she got sick. Really sick. I was told to give up on the Hotel when I lost her. No one saw a reason when it was obviously failing, but it's the last thing I have of her, you know?"

Danny's lips wobble. He thinks back to hours and hours of tracing the Fenton Works logo on all his new clothes. It looks stupid but, gosh its the last thing he has of his parents since they been sepreated too.

"Yeah" His voice catches "Yeah I know. Did you two ever have children?"

Charles shakes his head. "Salley couldn't have kids, and no matter how many times we applied, we were never approved for adoption. Then we were too old."

"I'm sorry Charles"

"That's alright, my boy." The man's smile is just as heartbreaking and sad as it is soft. "It's something I accepted long ago. "

Danny decided then and there that he would save this hotel if it was the last thing he did. Danny wasn't aware that his Ghost Powers launched onto that oath and sent out a flair, turning Gotham's Fog Lodge into his new haunt.

This meant that overnight, Danny's haunt was carefully bettering itself as a reflection of Danny's happiness. It made it look brand new among all the old and falling apart scenery.

No one knew why or how, but it looked just as Charles remembered it in the glory days.

Danny decided they couldn't compete with large chain hotels, so he made it an experience instead. He did Era events using his experience with the different parts of the Ghost Zone as references.

Soon Gotham was hearing of the Victorian Era Ball—a chance to dress up and dance the old ways with antique clothing of that period.

But Danny didn't stop there.

Disco parties. Nineties garage bands. Murder mysteries nights from the roaring twenties. Even the props were so realistic that people swore they stepped into the time from when arriving for their events.

People started calling, hoping to book in advance, and Charles burst into tears the first night Danny told them they ran out of rooms.

Since it was Danny's haunt, he could complete all the work by himself, having the hotel help him along the way. No one knew why or how, but somehow it was always clean, food was always prepared whenever someone needed it, and bags would be up into their rooms without actually seeing the Bellhop pass getting them at the door.

Not a single staff member in sight, either.

Charles suspected Danny was meta, and he was using his powers to be one hell of a good host. Everyone else thought the place was haunted by staff made entirly of ghosts, and that somehow made it more appealing.

Jazz's new boss thought it a little too good to be accurate, but he was so good at keeping records and organizing that he gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she did mention she had a meta brother she was desperately trying to protect.

If there was one thing Red Hood knew, it was that desperate people turned to crime the most. If he could keep someone like Jazz Fenton away from working with the nutjobs of Gotham, he would have been doing one thing better for the city.

As far as Jazz was aware, she was only an assistant/secretary to an obvious front masquerading as an insurance company, and if she pretended not to notice all the crime, she could feed Danny and help Charles.

Charles, for his part, never said it, but he thinks if he and Sally had been able to have grandchildren, they would have been exactly like Jazz and Danny.

He may have let it be implied at one point, and the misunderstanding spreads that he is their grandfather. None of the three make haste to correct it.

Gotham Fog Lodge starts to gain traction around the same time it captures the eye of one very intrigued billionaire. Bruce Wayne keeps an eye on the business but decided to let Jason make the call since the grandduaghter's owner works for him. '

Surely, he would step in if something malicious was going on.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #One hell of a good bellhop #Part 1 #The Fenton kids find questionable employement #Charles is ther emotional support grandpa #Danny is vibing in his new haunt #The bats are watching #always watching #Pre-Anger Management

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Summer Heat | S.R

Summary - By orders or the director, the BAU must undertake a team building hike in the woods. You and Spencer have never gotten along and not even the summer heat seems to be able thaw the ice that exists between you. But then you get yourselves lost and while waiting for rescue, you have to find a way to pass the time…

A/N - set somewhere in the realms of s15. This is my second entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - enemies to lovers, Spencer’s awkward info dumping about hiking related deaths, swearing, public urination, talks of bladder control techniques, treating wounds, Spencer is touch starved, mentions of prison and Cat Adams and Max, Spencer and reader are oblivious idiots, make outs, handjob, fingering, public sexual acts, interruptions.

WC - 8.9k

The potency of the early afternoon Virginia sun infiltrating the towering thicket of loblolly pines caressed your skin, peppering its honeyed kisses across your flesh. 

The warm earthy scents combined with the aromas of moss and the sharp, almost sweet notes of the pine trees engulfed you in a blanket of mother earth's creation. 

You hummed to yourself as you trekked up a grassy incline barely registering the weight of your oversized pack on your back. You were no stranger to hiking or the heat and you were barely phased by it. 

Unlike some people. 

Doctor Spencer Reid was equipped for neither physical activity or the weather, despite the fact he grew up in desert climates. You could hear him huffing and puffing behind you as he struggled up even the smallest of hills. 

You reached the brow and turned back to him with your hands on your hips. His face was flushed red from a combination of the sun and exertion. His hair stuck to his sweaty brow and his chest heaved with his breaths. 

When he reached you, he doubled over, hands on his knees and he fought to catch his breath. You rolled your eyes and waited somewhat impatiently for him to stand again. 

“Are you really this out of shape?” You scoffed. 

He glanced up through a curtain of hair, puffing uneven breaths out between parted lips. 

“Clearly.” He bit back. 

It wasn’t a secret that the two of you didn’t exactly see eye to eye. You’d been with the team for almost a year now, but you and Spencer had never been close. 

You’d gotten off on the wrong foot on your very first case. He’d spent almost all day on the phone to someone talking about his mother and you’d made a flippant comment about him being a mama's boy. 

This led Spencer to launch into a rant about how his mother suffered from schizophrenia and altzeimers and how he was talking to her doctor because she was struggling to adjust to the new home he’d put her in DC. 

He didn’t stop there. He continued to inform that she had been moved to DC because she wasn’t responding well to medication or her living facility in Vegas. He detailed how he’d moved her to the east coast and then gotten arrested in Mexico whilst trying to procure some experimental medicine. 

He was seething by the time he told you that the same woman who’d gotten him arrested then had his mother kidnapped and almost killed. 

He wasn’t as standoffish towards you as he used to be, his iciness thawing somewhat over time. But you were never going to be his favourite person. And as a result, he wasn’t yours either. 

He forced himself to stand up straight, grabbing his canteen from where it was hanging from the strap of his backpack and taking a hefty sip before wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. 

“It’s just a little hike. It’s not like you’re running a marathon or anything.” You clucked. “Can we continue now?” 

“Just a little hike?” He groaned but started walking nonetheless. “It’s ten miles! And I have to do it with you.” 

“Oh you poor, unfortunate soul.” You rolled your eyes as you fell in step with him. 

The hike had been an idea which was floated down from the director. A team building exercise it had been dubbed. Although it wasn’t strictly mandatory it would look bad on those who didn’t participate. 

So the BAU was spending a rare weekend off on a ten mile hike through the Shenandoah National Park followed by spending the night camping at the valley’s campground. 

The Shenandoah National Park was more than five hundred miles of hiking trails extending along the Blue Ridge Mountains which included a section of long distance Appalachian Trail. 

As someone who relished in the outdoors you’d always wanted the chance to visit Shenandoah but had never had the opportunity. And if you were paired up with anyone other than Spencer you might have been able to enjoy yourself. 

Garcia had everyone draw straws in order to team up for the hike before you would all meet up later at the campground. You’d quite literally drawn the short straw with Spencer whilst Penelope was paired with Matt, Luke with JJ whilst Tara, Emily and Rossi made a group of three. 

Spencer was the least athletic of the BAU members, the least outdoorsy, and so far had not stopped complaining. 

You regarded your GPS as you walked to ensure you were headed in the right direction and the two of you fell back into silence. 

Spencer breathed heavily even when the trail was flat, groaning a little every time you came to another incline. 

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. It was a strange sight to behold, an academic who was far more comfortable indoors trekking through the woods like this. But what was even weirder was his outfit. 

You’d never seen Spencer out of a shirt and slacks but he’d tried to at least look the part of a hiker today. He wore a thin black t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts which showed off his surprisingly toned legs. You didn’t even think he would own such an item of clothing. 

He’d tried to look the part, probably only taking into account the heat and not the fact that he was leaving his legs exposed to bug bites and poison ivy. You wouldn’t be the one to tell him that though. 

He’d ditched his satchel in lieu of a backpack but still had his trusty converse on with obligatory mismatched socks. You’d told him converse would be hard to hike in, their thin soles alone not conducive to walking on the forest floor. 

Judging by the way he grimaced with nearly every step, he was starting to wish he’d listened to you. 

You continued to walk in silence, watching the way Spencer’s wary eyes cast around through the thick tree trunks, ears pricking at every tiny sound. 

“If you didn’t need to stop and catch your breath every five minutes we’d be back by now.” You couldn’t hold your tongue. 

Spencer’s head turned towards you, brows furrowed. 

“If we hadn’t taken such a hilly trail I wouldn’t need to keep stopping every five minutes. Did you know hikers use twenty eight percent more energy when traversing uneven terrain as opposed to flatter land?” He grabbed his canteen again and took another sip. 

“Don’t come crying to me when you’ve run out of water.” You ignored his statistical rambling, increasing your gait a little. 

“I won’t run out of water. I’ve calculated exactly how much I can afford to drink per hour when approximating how long it will take to walk ten miles.” He told you smugly. 

“Of course you have.” You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace a little more. 

“I can’t believe the bureau is making us do this. Do they not realise that hiking related deaths have been on the rise? They’ve increased as much as twenty one percent in recent years.” He grumbled as he tried to match your pace. 

“Oh please, do tell me more.” You huffed and clearly Spencer either didn’t sense your sarcasm or he chose to ignore it because he did tell you more.

“Fifty percent of all hiking related deaths are caused by a fall or drowning. Men make up seventy two percent of those victims.” He pulled a face, focusing on the ground beneath him now he’d drawn his own attention to that fact. 

“Well you for one are particularly clumsy.” You replied, your tone one of boredom. 

“The other fifty percent are due to medical conditions such as heart attacks while engaging in physical activity.” 

“What kind of physical activity?” You smirked suggestively, nudging him in his arm. 

Spencer shook his head as your childish insinuation. 

“Oh grow up, Y/L/N.” He spat. 

“I’m just saying if there is a man out there so good in bed he can induce a heart attack, I wanna meet him.” You chuckled, seeing him roll his eyes in your peripheral vision. 

“And I’m saying, hiking is inherently dangerous.” 

“We chase serial killers for a living.” You huffed, checking your navigational device again. 

“Which I am well versed in due to years of hands-on experience. I am not educated in outdoor pursuits.” He scoffed. 

“You seem to know a lot about hiking related deaths.” You cast your gaze upwards towards the sun peaking between the high trees. 

You could hear faint rhythmic buzzing from insects nearby, distance scuffling through the underbrush. Every now and again you picked up on various bird songs as they chirped from the high branches. 

It made a smile blossom on your features, being one with nature, the summer air cleansing your lungs. The sounds and the smells were a comfort to you, taking you back to childhood memories camping and trekking through forests just like this with your family and fond recollections of years spent at summer camps. 

Summer was without a doubt your favourite season. It elicited waves of nostalgia, taking you back to years spent at camp lake edges, eating ice cream hurriedly before it melted, giving you brain freeze.

It evoked images of burning campfires, the smell of the wood as it smouldered and the marshmallows roasting ready to be made into s’mores. Dulcet tones of an acoustic guitar played under the moonlight by Andy Duncan, your camp crush. 

And later when he’d walked you back to your cabin and bestowed upon you your first ever kiss. Summer held some of your best memories and kindled your sentimental side. 

You toyed with the GPS device in your hand as you walked, twigs and leaves crunching under foot. You didn’t realise Spencer was staring at you. 

“You okay?” He spoke up, snapping you out of your reminiscing. 

“Huh?” You glanced at him sideways. 

Spencer had a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at you, something you’d never seen on him before, not directed towards you anyway. 

“You look awfully wistful.” He shrugged. 

“I just love summer I guess.” You mirrored his action. 

“That makes sense.” Spencer turned away and looked back at the ground so he could avoid any potential trip hazards. 

“What does that mean?” You swatted at a bug that landed on your arm. 

“It means I’m not surprised you like summer, arguably the worst season.” He clucked. 

“The worst? Oh please. Let me guess Doc, you’re a fan of gloomy winter? That would make sense.” 

“Winter isn’t gloomy. Winter is oversized sweaters and hot cocoa by a fireplace. Huddled under blankets, the holidays. Sometimes even snow.” He told you as if you’d never heard of winter before. “But it’s not my favourite season. My favourite season is fall.” 

“Hmm, dark and moody tones, nature dying. That tracks.” You spoke in a clipped tone. 

“It’s not dying, it’s the start of rebirth. Shedding one layer so it can grow into something more than it ever thought it could be. It’s hauntingly beautiful really. And autumnal tones are stunning, all those earthy hues and streets littered in leaves. It makes me think of cinnamon and old books. Reading in the park with my mom when she was lucid and watching the leaves fall from the trees all around us.” It was Spencer’s turn to grow wistful. 

You noticed his eyes glaze over slightly, his lip quirking up at the corner as he got lost in a fond childhood memory. 

Spencer never talked to you about his youth or his mother after your initial falling out. He’d never been so candid with you before. As if he realised this, he shook his head, snapping himself out of his own revere. 

“I, uh, didn’t mean to share all that.” He grumbled, grabbing his canteen and sipping the water just for something to do. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Well I do.” He spat, slowing a little as the two of you neared another slight slope. “You’re the last person I want to talk to about my mother.” 

You slowed with him until you both stopped. You folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. 

“Reid, come on. It’s been a long time. I’ve apologised for calling you a mama’s boy multiple times. How could I have possibly known about your mother?” You shook your head. 

Spencer’s jaw tightened, the muscle in the side of his face pulsing as he stared at you. You could all but see the cogs turning in his head as he fashioned a response. 

“I don’t want your apologies, Y/L/N.” He huffed out. 

He suddenly started walking again, ignoring how much his legs ached as he started up the small slope. You watched him go for a moment or two, feeling awash with anger. 

You’d been looking forward to this hike, to an excuse to spend the weekend outdoors in the sun. You were not going to let Doctor Spencer Reid ruin that for you. 

***

You carried on walking for another hour or so and not another word was spoken between you. It was tense and awkward and the sun was getting lower in the sky. 

It wouldn’t be at all long before it started getting dark and you were growing a little concerned that you might not make it back before the sunset. 

Spencer was clearly thinking the same as his brows had been furrowed for at least the past ten minutes and he was furiously chewing on his lip.

You halted in your tracks and pulled the GPS device back out. You stared down at it with a heavy frown, feeling the heat radiating off of Spencer as he drew closer to you. He peered at the GPS over your shoulder with a scrunched brow similar to your own. 

“That says we’re only a few hundred yards from the camp. We should be able to see it.” Spencer looked up but all he saw was trees.

He turned a complete three hundred and sixty degrees but was met by trees as far as the eye could see. 

“I think…I think it’s busted.” You groaned deeply, the sound reverberating out into the forest. 

“No? No!” Spencer snatched it from your hand and shook it as if that would help matters. “Call someone! It’s going to get dark soon!”

You did not miss the blatant panic in his voice and if you didn’t feel the same you might have made a jab at him for it. 

You reached for your phone in your pants pocket and unlocked the screen but groaned as soon as you did so. 

“Fuck, I have no signal.” 

“What?” Spencer scrabbled for his own device and huffed seeing he had no bars either. “We’re stuck out here?” 

“Uh,” you glanced around. “Yes?” 

“No, no. I am not dying out in the woods with you.” His tone was even more fraught. 

“Trust me, you are not my first choice of death partner either.” You scoffed.

“If we’re out here long enough we could dehydrate! Or get hypothermia! I told you fifty percent of hiking related deaths are caused by medical conditions.” He was spiralling. 

“How many hiking related deaths are caused by homicide?” You shot him an unamused look. 

“Eighteen percent of 990 deaths at national parks were considered intentional. That includes suicide and homicide.” 

“It was a rhetorical question.” You shook your head. “Maybe if we get to higher ground we can get some cell service.” 

You started to walk but had no idea where you were going. You just had to hope you would find some higher ground. 

Spencer followed you for lack of any better suggestions. He was sulking like a petulant child, clearly there was something on his mind as he huffed a few times as he trailed behind you. 

You walked no more than a few minutes before his constant sighing and pouting caused you to stop again. 

“What?” You spat. “What is it?” 

Spencer frowned, halting in his tracks too. He was rolling his lip frantically between his teeth now and jiggling a little where he stood. 

“I, uh,” his cheeks flushed red. “I need to use the bathroom.” 

You closed your eyes for a second, pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“I hate to break it to you but there are no bathrooms way out here.” 

“It’s a figure of speech.” He grumbled. “I need to…pee.” 

“Okay, well take your pick.” You motioned around to the copious trees surrounding you. 

“I’m not a dog.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m sorry princess but it’s the best I can offer you.” 

Spencer sucked in a deep breath, clenching his hands at his side. His leg was still jiggling with his need to urinate. 

Spencer had developed an extremely strong bladder in his time in prison. The toilets on offer at Milburn were some of the most unhygienic he’d ever seen and as such had used them as little as humanly possible. 

He’s trained himself to strengthen his bladder, exercising his pelvic floor in order to reduce the amount of times in a day he needed to use the bathroom. 

As such during the hike he hadn’t been once while you had been multiple times. And now it had snuck up on him, coming out of nowhere and he wouldn’t be able to hold it long. 

“Goddamn I hate nature.” He grumbled, glancing around for the largest looking tree he could use to shield himself from you. 

You watched as he turned his back on you, hurrying off in one direction, further than was strictly necessary. You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head. 

“Don’t worry, Doc I’m not looking to catch a glimpse.” You called after him. You heard a tut in response but he didn’t rise to it. 

Spencer pushed forwards through some bushes and weaved in and out large pines before he found a tree trunk far enough away from you that he could have some semblance of peace while he expelled himself. 

He made sure the trunk was blocking his body before he unbuttoned his cargo shorts and freed himself from his pants. Within a fraction of a second he was already urinating.

He let out a relieved sigh, holding the base of his cock in one hand for aiming purposes whilst leaning the other on the tree. 

He closed his eyes as the blissful sensation of his bladder emptying consumed him. He didn’t relish doing this in the woods but he couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

It felt so good in fact he didn’t even notice the itching of his calves. He finished his business and tucked himself away before buttoning his shorts. 

He swung his pack off his back and rummaged in the side pocket for a little bottle of hand sanitiser. He squirted a little in his palm and rubbed his hands together. 

Returning it to his bag and putting it back on, he noticed a stinging in his left calf but ignored it as he walked back over to you. As he walked his other leg started to sting too. 

When he reached you he subconsciously reached down and started scratching the backs of his bare legs with his blunt nails. You stared at him curiously. 

“You okay?” 

“Just a little itchy. Think I’ve been bitten or something.” He grumbled. 

You walked around him and regarded his legs. His skin was flushed red with little raised blisters dotted up the backs of both calves. 

“Reid,” you took his wrists and guided his hands away from his frantic scratching. “I think you’ve walked in poison ivy.” 

He snapped back to his full height, eyes wide. 

“What? No? Come on!” He moaned, glancing back at the rash forming. “Could this day get any worse?” 

“I’ve got a first aid kit in my bag, I’m going to need to treat those. If you keep scratching they could scar. Maybe this will teach you for wearing shorts on a hike.” You put down your backpack and rummaged for the kit. 

“It’s nearly eighty degrees.” He scoffed. “And I’ve never been hiking before.” 

“Just shut up and stand still. Give me your water.” You knelt down on the ground behind him.

“You’ve got your own water.” 

“I’m not wasting my water on cleaning your rash because you were the idiot who wore shorts. Give me your water.” 

Spencer huffed out a breath to show he wasn’t happy but then he unlatched his canteen from his bag strap and passed it back to you. So much for his calculations. 

You uncapped it and poured a little on the back of each leg causing him to shudder. You used a small hand towel you had in your backpack to dry them off before sanitising your hands.

You located the hydrocortisone ointment in the first aid kit and squeezed a little on the pads of your fingers. You cautiously started on his left leg, massaging the cream into the small blisters. 

Spencer hissed and his legs buckled a little. He was silent though and allowed you to treat his rash. Soon you were moving onto the other leg and although it stung Spencer couldn’t deny he enjoyed the skin to skin contact. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Spencer was touch starved. He hadn’t felt another set of hands on him in such a tender way since before prison. 

He’d deliberately kept everyone at arms length since, not trusting himself or deeming himself worthy to be so close to another person. 

He’d almost allowed himself to go there with Max, to succumb to the kind of pleasure he’d sorely missed. They’d kissed but ultimately that was the furthest he’d let himself go. 

And somehow your benevolent touch was more intimate than kissing Max. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part. 

He was sure you knew the real reason he was so brusque with you wasn’t because of what you’d call him during your first case. He was annoyed about it at first but he hadn’t held a grudge over it. 

His curt behaviour towards you stemmed from his almost overwhelming crush on you. He’d pushed you away because when he met you he wasn’t ready to be close to someone. But in doing so he had inevitably sealed his own fate so that now when he might actually want to pursue something, you could barely stand him.

He tried to omit the feeling of your fingertips on his calves and focused his attention on the warbling of a nearby bird. Its song wasn’t the prettiest he’d ever heard but it had a certain cadence to it which he found oddly calming. 

All too soon you were finished and your touch was gone, leaving Spencer feeling dissatisfied. You wrapped both of his rashes in gauze bandages but your fingers barely ghosted over his flesh again.

You stuffed the kit back away and pushed yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt off of your knees. Spencer looked down at his newly bandaged legs with a small frown. 

“Do you have a change of clothes? Some pants perhaps?” You asked.

“No, for all my planning and research I did not think to bring long pants.” He shook his head at his oversight. 

“I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but you could have asked me what you should bring. The whole team knows I’m big on hiking and camping.” You turned away from him, looking back out through the trees to try and ascertain the best direction to head. “I also could have told you that converse was a dumb choice for hiking. I can only imagine how much your feet hurt.” 

Spencer made a noise that sounded somewhat like he agreed with you but didn’t want to say it out loud. You pulled out a piece of crumpled paper from your backpack and unfolded it, staring intently at it for a few moments. 

Spencer came closer, glancing down at the wrinkled paper in your hands. It looked to be a topographic map of the area. Finally something Spencer understood about hiking. 

“Didn’t know Garcia gave us those.” He spoke as you studied it.

“She didn’t. This isn’t my first rodeo, I would never have come out here without one.” You didn’t look at him. 

“So I can read this but how do you work out where we are? There’s nothing but trees for miles.” He scratched the back of his neck. 

“Observation. We passed a small body of water about a mile back. I didn’t see it but I could hear it off to the west. And this incline,” you pointed in front of you. “Will help figure it out.” 

“Okay, so a small body of water and an area where the contour lines aren’t too close as the hill isn’t too steep.” He nodded.

“Exactly.” You agreed. “And if my bearings are right I believe we’re facing north east.” 

Spencer looked around briefly before a smile tugged at his lips. 

“Because of the position of the sun.” 

“Yep. And the moss.” You nodded towards the trees. “It’s not an exact science but in the whole moss tends to grow on the north side of trees in the northern hemisphere.”

Spencer watched while you ran your index finger along the map, trying to draw on everything you knew in order to get the two of you to higher ground. 

“Wow I’m…I’m actually impressed.” He chuckled a little and you looked up at him with a frown. 

“Are you patronising me?” 

“What? No! I mean it. I’m really impressed.” 

“Oh,” you looked back at the map. “Thanks.” 

A minute or so later and you’d estimated a few miles worth of trail you believed the two of you to be on. If you were right you were still miles from the camp and wouldn’t make it there by nightfall. 

Your plan was to find somewhere to get cell service so you could call the team and hopefully they could get park rangers out here to find you as they were the only ones equipped to traverse the forest after dark. 

Spencer followed you while you kept the map in your hand. The two of you walked for another mile or so, by this point Spencer’s water rations were nearly depleted. 

Eventually you stopped at the foot of a large, steep hill and Spencer looked up at it with a dubious expression. 

“You want me to climb that?” He whined. 

“Well we have a better chance of getting cell service when we have two phones.” You rolled your eyes, folding the map and slotting it in your pocket. 

“Can’t you just take mine up there with you?” He pulled a face. “I really do not possess the physical prowess for this.”

“No kidding.” You scoffed. “But we’re in this together. I could get hurt or something, I need you for backup.” 

Spencer groaned, pouting his bottom lip like a child. 

“Oh jeez, fine.” He huffed. “But I will complain every step of the way.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” With a shake of your head you started forward and Spencer reluctantly followed you.

You got less than twenty paces before he almost slipped and fell on his face. To steady himself he instinctively reached for your hand. He didn’t let go the whole way up. 

You hated to admit it but there was something oddly comforting about Spencer’s hand in yours. His hand was warm and surprisingly soft and it was so much larger than your own he all but encompassed yours. 

He held onto you tightly, fingers squeezing your hand every time his foot slipped a little on the hilly ground. A part of you didn’t want to make it to the top because you didn’t want him to let go. 

But of course as soon as the ground levelled out he slipped his hand away and all but collapsed onto the damp ground below, huffing and puffing. You watched him grab his canteen and finish the water without a second thought. 

He removed his pack and rolled onto his back, relishing in every last drop of liquid and clearly not concerned he had now emptied his reserves. He closed his eyes and pushed his hair back off his sweaty forehead. 

You pulled your cell phone out and unlocked it. You had one tiny bar of signal which you hoped was enough to make a call. You nudged Spencer in the ribs with the toe of your hiking boot. His eyes shot open and he stared up at you, the exhaustion heavy in his eyes. 

“I’ve got one bar, I’m going to try and call Prentiss.” You informed him, bringing up your contacts. 

You found Emily’s name quickly and hit the call button before putting the device on speaker. The dial tone was crackly and you knew the signal could cut out at any minute. It rang four times before Emily answered but her words were muffled and you only caught a handful of what she said.

“Y/N…are you?...Gone hours…thing okay?” 

“Emily, we got lost. Our GPS was misprogrammed. We need help.” You had no idea how much she could hear of what you were saying.

“...are you?...send a rang…coordinates?” 

You reeled off your approximate coordinates, explaining that you could be anywhere within a few miles of that spot but again you don’t know what she heard due to the spotty service. 

“Hold tight…get a ranger…be okay.” 

“Thanks Emily.” You finished before hanging up.

Spencer was still on the floor on his back, his brows furrowed in concern.

“How much of that do you think she got?” He was rolling his lip between his teeth.

“I have no idea.” You pocketed the phone again. “I’m almost certain Garcia would have brought her laptop with her. If she can get to the rangers station and get on the WiFi she might be able to locate us.”

“Yeah, good point. Garcia is the best.” His eyes closed again, a strangely dreamy smile on his lips. 

“What are you doing?” You kicked him again and his eyes quickly opened and he stared at you.

“Resting, what does it look like?” He scowled.

“Reid, the second the sun goes down the temperature is going to plummet. We need to make a fire.” 

“Goddamnit,” he pushed himself to a sitting position. “I hate the outdoors.” 

You chose to ignore him and didn’t help him to his feet, instead started wandering around in the search for some sticks for the fire. Spencer eventually got himself up and started to help. The sun was barely a sliver in the sky by the time you collected enough wood.

You created a crisscross on the ground with the kindling, explaining to Spencer this type of fire would burn for longer and not need as much wood. You had no idea how long you would be out here and you needed to stay warm. The smoke would also help draw attention to your whereabouts. 

You retrieved a pack of matches from your back, Spencer once again impressed by your preparedness. He simply watched while you went about lighting the fire, in silent awe. It was several minutes before the fire started to grow and he shuffled closer to it, sitting cross legged on the dirty forest floor and holding his hands towards the flames. 

You sat down next to him, but not too close. You got out a fleece hoodie from your bag and slipped it over your head. As if jogging some kind of memory for Spencer he opened his own bag and found his oversized CalTech sweatshirt, thankful he’d had the forethought to pack this even if he had overlooked bringing pants. 

Sitting by the fire you felt the fatigue wash over you. You could quite easily curl up and fall asleep after the day's events. Spencer noticed your fluttering eyelids and how you were desperately trying to stay awake.

He suddenly felt extremely bad for how difficult he’d been all day, complaining and moaning while you tried to keep him safe and alive. He huffed out a breath and the sound caused you to look at him.

Half of his face was illuminated by the glow of the fire, the other side set in deep shadow from where the sun had now almost completely vanished beneath the horizon. His golden brown eyes shimmered as he looked at you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry I’ve been such hard work today.” He rolled his lip between his teeth.

“Reid, I’m used to you being hard work.” Your lip twitched at the corner. 

“I’m sorry about that too.” He swallowed. “Do you…do you want to lay your head down on my lap? You deserve to rest.” 

You frowned a little sceptical, mildly concerned by the offer as Spencer had never been so nice to you. But you were too tired to question it and the idea of laying down sounded wonderful. You nodded slowly, prompting Spencer to uncross his legs and stretch them out in front of himself.

You sucked in a breath, shuffling in the dirt so you could lay on your side with your head in his lap while you stretched your own body out on the ground. 

Without meaning to, Spencer's hand was soon brushing through your hair. You couldn’t help the hum of appreciation that you let escape and it goaded him to continue. 

His touch elicited the sweetest sounds from your lips, some sounding dangerously like moans. Spencer was only human and his body reacted of its own accord at the noises. 

He could sense the blood rushing south, feel the swelling in his shorts despite how much he willed it stop. He stilled his movements on your hair, hoping if you weren’t making those delirious sounds it would stop the blood rushing and he wouldn’t get hard enough for you to notice…

…You suddenly sat up, looking right at him with wide eyes. Of course you’d noticed, his crotch was right beneath your head. 

His cheeks instantly flushed red and he pulled a face full of apologies and mortification. You continued to stare at him and he felt more uncomfortable with each silent second. 

“Please,” he whimpered. “Just…don’t mention it.” 

“Kinda hard not to…pun not intended.” You frowned at your own choice of words and Spencer groaned. 

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “It has been a long time since I’ve had any kind of closeness with another person. I can’t be held responsible for my body’s carnal reactions. Especially when you’re making such sinful noises.” 

Your own cheeks turned red now and you glanced away from him towards the fire. 

“I, uh…I didn’t realise I was. Sorry.” You croaked. “Full disclosure, it’s also been a long time since I’ve had any kind of closeness with another person.” 

Spencer’s brows furrowed as he regarded you. He found that incredibly hard to believe. You were just so beautiful he imagined men fell at your feet everywhere you went. 

“Seriously?” He couldn’t help but ask. 

“Seriously.” You confirmed with a huff as you turned back to him. 

“But why?” 

“Why what? I don’t understand.” 

“I mean…you’re you. You’re beautiful and smart and charismatic. Surely you could have your pick of men?” Spencer was really frowning. 

“I’m…fussy I suppose? And I don’t really like the whole casual sex thing…” You trailed off with your own frown. “Wait did you call me beautiful?”

“And smart and charismatic.” He nodded. 

“Uh, thanks?” You were rightfully confused, Spencer had never said anything nice about you. “What about you? You don’t have women lining up at your door? And weren’t you dating someone?”

Spencer let out a hearty laugh at this, shaking his head dramatically. 

“Max and I broke up not long after Cat and her games. We never…you know…and trust me when I say women do not fawn over a neurotic, socially awkward ex-con.” Spencer sighed sadly. 

“Oh, I didn’t realise about Max, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. It wouldn’t have worked out even if Cat hadn’t interfered.” He pulled a face, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “You didn’t know me before prison. I’m not the same man I used to be. I had to do things on the inside just to survive and it changed me. For a long time I didn’t trust myself to get close to anyone. A part of me still doesn't but I’m trying I guess? Max was the closest I came to allowing myself to be vulnerable again.” 

You simply stared at him, unsure what to say. You’d never spoken so personally with Spencer before, he’d never opened up to you in such a way and you didn’t know how to respond. 

You knew you needed to tread lightly, not wanting to risk him clamming up and shutting you down. You were making progress for the first time since you’d met him and you didn’t want to give him a reason not to continue. 

“I didn’t know you before prison and I have no idea the things you would have gone through in there. But I do know you now. I know you shield yourself behind these huge walls to keep people from hurting you, probably because you’ve already been hurt enough for one lifetime. 

“You kept me at arms length because you don’t like change, you worried I would threaten the team dynamic. But once you realised that wasn’t the case, you were too far gone and it was easier for you to keep treating me with disdain rather than thaw towards me.” 

Spencer was silent while you talked, ingesting your words, mulling them over in his head. His expression tightened, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips drawn into a line. 

“I guess you’re right, at least about some of it.” He exhaled. “I was always guarded to a degree even before prison. People have always disappointed me I guess and so I learnt not to rely on anyone, not to let anyone get too close. It’s easier to be alone than to risk getting hurt. 

“But you’re wrong about why I kept you away. Your comment about me being a mama’s boy stung but I didn’t hold it against you. I needed to put distance between us because from the first time I met you I knew how effortless it would be for me to fall for you.

“I was too raw at the time, I wasn’t ready to give my heart away to someone who might not even want it. I had to keep you at arms length because it was safer than letting myself develop feelings for someone who probably wouldn’t reciprocate. But I guess the jokes on me because my plan was far from foolproof and I managed to fall for you anyway. 

“I don’t expect anything from you in return, and I’m hoping once we’re rescued we can just forget this whole thing ever happened. But I suppose you deserve to know why I am the way I am with you and maybe going forward we can try to be…I don’t know…friends? Or at the very least I hope we can get along better.” He sucked in a breath when he finished speaking, looking completely exhausted and utterly heartbroken.

You couldn’t speak. You took in every single word, toyed with them in your mind and tried to make sense of them. But really they didn’t make any sense. In the year you’d known Spencer you had never even gotten so much as a hint that he had feelings for you. He was detached, withdrawn and oftentimes entirely unapproachable. 

It seemed implausible that he could have been hiding these feelings all this time and for you not to have a clue. You were a profiler, wasn’t it your job to pick up on these things? Did the rest of the team figure it out? Were you the only one in the dark? 

He looked increasingly uncomfortable by his confession with every passing second of silence. The fire crackled, its warmth washing over you both. It cast you both in a cosy glow. 

Spencer seemed closer somehow. Did you move nearer or had he, or was it simply all in your head? 

There were so many things you could say, so many possibilities but you couldn’t form a simple sentence. Every time you tried to speak your words caught in your throat and his own played over in a loop in your brain. 

I guess the jokes on me because my plan was far from foolproof and I managed to fall for you anyway. 

Spencer had feelings for you and he thought you wouldn’t feel the same. Perhaps neither of you were as good at profiling as you thought. 

Spencer rolled his lip between his teeth, growing self conscious in your lack of response. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it through his nose. 

“I should not have said any of that.” He averted his gaze to the fire. “I don’t even know why I did. Jeez, I’m a moron. Please can you just pretended I didn’t…” 

He trailed off when your hand cupped his chin and you turned him gently to look at you. 

“Yes, you are a moron.” You smiled meekly. “But only because you missed what was right in front of you. How can you think I didn’t feel the same?” 

His mouth fell open, your hand still on his jaw. He blinked rapidly as if trying to clear some kind of fog in his brain. 

“You…I’m confused.” He frowned. 

“Let me clear it up for you then.” You dropped your hand to your side but seconds later your lips crushed against his. 

Spencer gasped at the sudden action, in a million years he never dreamed to actually feel your lips on his. And if he never got this chance again, he was going to make the most of it. 

He raised his hands to cup your face and ran his tongue along your bottom lip, gently asking for passageway. You obliged by parting your lips enough for his tongue to slide inside. 

You were quick to explore the contours of each other's mouths, both of your desperations evident in the way your teeth knocked together while you worked to find your rhythm. 

One of his hands worked its way into the back of your hair and held you firmly as he deepened the kiss further. He pulled you into his lap and you manoeuvred yourself so you were straddling him, kneeling in the dirt either side of his hips. 

He kept one hand cradling your head and the other moved down over your ribs. It dipped beneath the thick fabric of your hoodie, sandwiched between it and your shirt underneath. 

You rocked in his lap, wrapping your arms tightly around neck. The friction caused him to moan languidly into your mouth and it wasn’t long before you felt him growing hard again. 

When he pulled back and opened his eyes, his pupils were blown out, heavy with lust. He was begging you for more without the use of words, he removed one of your hands from around his neck and moved it between your bodies. 

He placed your palm on his rapidly growing erection, rolling his swollen lip with his teeth whilst silently asking if this was okay. You smiled at him and your other hand joined it so you could pop the button of his shorts.

One hand wasted no time in diving straight into his boxers and wrapping around his shaft. You quickly tugged him free of the confines of both his shorts and underwear. 

You sat back a little on your haunches to look down on him. You couldn’t hold back your lamentation as you surveyed every inch of him in your hand. He was long and thick, heavy against your palm. Honestly you hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t this. 

The vein that ran up the underside throbbed as you brushed your thumb over it and he bucked his hips when you moved it to rub over his swollen red tip. You slowly brought your fist all the way back down, squeezing his base whilst nestled in a bed of scratchy pubic hair.

You tore your eyes away from his crotch and looked up to meet his eyes. They held a hint of uncertainty, as though he was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. Spencer never was blessed with body confidence, he was always too skinny or too tall or too gangly. 

He wasn’t dumb though, he knew that particular appendage was above average. He didn’t have a wealth of sexual experience but he had enough to know that he was often a tight fit for most. But that didn’t stop him from feeling self conscious under your gaze.

The smile on your face and the glint in your eye was enough for him to know that you were pleased by what you’d seen and it allowed him to relax a little. He felt a wave of heat wash over him as your hand slowly started to move and it had nothing to do with his proximity to the fire. 

He wriggled beneath you as you started moving your hand up and down, your thumb brushing over his sensitive head each time. A string of wanton moans left his lips and he was momentarily dumbfounded while you worked him, not able to do anything but sit and relish in this feeling.

Your petite hand couldn’t fit all the way around him but it didn’t make your movements any less mind blowing. He had never been touched like this before, with such a combination of care and desperation. 

Once he got his brain working for long enough to think straight, he moved his hands towards the buttons of your pants. You didn’t let up on your ministrations while he got them undone, swiping your thumb through the precum collecting on his head. 

He swiftly popped the buttons and his right hand dipped inside straight inside your panties. He moaned animalistically when he discovered how wet you were already, the sound dissipating out into the forest. 

You kept eye contact with each other as his fingers slid between your legs, collecting your arousal before moving to settle on your needy clit. You whimpered as he rubbed the sensitive bud with two fingers, rocking against his hand whilst increasing your speed on his cock.

The sounds coming from the both of you were nothing short of feral and became eaten up by the vast woods surrounding you. You grinded against his hand while he flicked your nub deftly, eager to bring you to orgasm.

You returned the favour and matched his speed. The sounds of your arousal and his flesh against yours filled your ears. The fire continued to crackle behind you, casting you in an ethereal glow from where you perched on top of him. 

His chest heaved and his stomach was coiling into thick knots. He wanted this to last forever but knew his orgasm was imminent. It had been all too long since someone had touched him so intimately and it would be impossible to stave off his release for too long.

But judging by the noises you were making, the sinful whines and moans leaving your parted lips and how frantically you bucked against his hand, he assumed you were in the same boat. 

“Jesus, Reid,” you panted heavily. “Who knew you’d be so good at that?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, increasing his speed even further as if to prove that point.

“Likewise.” He replied, whimpering as you swiped your thumb through more beads of precum. 

“I’m so close.” You whined, throwing your head back to your shoulders.

“M-me too.” He stuttered, stomach clenching at the way you twisted your fist around his shaft. 

Somewhere in the distance you heard a twig snap but paid it no attention. You kept your focus here on Spencer, on how he was making you feel and on how you were making him feel. But then you heard another crunch followed by a faint voice.

“Reid? Y/LN?” It called. “I see smoke! That has to be them!”

“Is that…?” Spencer frowned, breathing heavily.

“G-Garcia.” You mumbled. 

“Fuck,” Spencer groaned, his frustration evident.

“Reid? Y/L/N? It’s Penny G, can you hear me, my loves?” 

You and Spencer exchanged a look while you both stilled your movements at the same time. He kept his hand inside your panties while you held the base of his shaft limply. You felt dizzy, you were on the cusp of orgasm, about to fall over the ledge when Garcia’s voice had dragged you back from the brink. Looking at Spencer, he felt much the same.

“Y/L/N, Reid! We’re coming angels!”

“Oof,” Spencer groaned, cautiously withdrawing his hand from inside your pants. “Poor choice of words.” 

You reluctantly let go of his shaft and crawled away from him while you both readjusted yourself and got your pants done up.

“Over here, Garcia.” You called, hoping she didn’t notice the way your voice shook. 

Your body tingled, so close to release a soft breeze could get you there. Spencer pushed himself to his feet, legs shaking and reached out to help you up. He was tenting his shorts, unable to get the blood flowing elsewhere due to how close he’d been. He picked up his backpack and held it in front of him so Garcia wouldn’t notice.

Your underwear was soaked and sticky. You tried to adjust your stance so it was less uncomfortable but it was almost impossible. You could see three flashlights in the distance and the footsteps were growing closer. 

Soon enough Garcia and two park rangers appeared through the thicket. If she noticed the flush of your cheeks she didn’t say anything. She immediately threw her arms around both of you, Spencer cloying to keep his bag as a barrier between himself and the bubbly blonde for fear she might feel his unyielding erection.

“Oh my sweet angels!” She cooed over you both. “Let's get you back to camp and get you warmed up and fed.” 

You both silently agreed and let the rangers lead you back towards a clearing where their vehicle awaited you. Garcia hopped in the backseat first and Spencer held open the door for you, offering a meek smile as you passed him. 

Perhaps it was for the best you’d been interrupted before you could go too far. Perhaps Garcia had inadvertently helped you dodge a bullet.

***

Several hours later after making it back to the camp and feasting on Rossi’s campfire soup and bread and whilst being wrapped in Garcia’s fluffy blankets, one by one the other members of the BAU retired for the night. 

The fire was still dwindling as you perched on a log next to Spencer, silence deafening you once the two of you were alone. You watched the small flames flicker and dance in the soft breeze, soaking up the last of the summer evening before calling it a night yourself.

Before you did, you turned to face him to find he was already looking at you. He smiled softly, a little bashfully and you returned it. Words and emotions bubbled under the surface and neither one of you knew where to start. 

“Some day, huh.” You shrugged, wrapping the blanket tighter around your body.

“It was certainly eye opening.” Spencer agreed.

“It was probably for the best that Garcia and those rangers found us when they did, right?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure. Probably stopped us from doing something even more stupid.” Spencer chuckled nervously. 

“Exactly.” You nodded, getting to your feet. Spencer did the same. “We can just pretend nothing happened. We were tired, probably a little dehydrated. The sun makes us do weird things.” 

“Yeah, the sun.” He nodded too. 

You swallowed thickly, giving him one last look before turning towards your tent. Spencer scuffed the toe of his converse on the ground and found himself speaking again without really meaning to. 

“I mean…it would have been nice to at least finish. I’ve been kinda on edge ever since.” 

You spun back to look at him and he looked so unsure of himself. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were pitched up to his ears. 

“Uh, yeah same here.” You took a couple of tentative steps back towards him. “There’s no doubt I could go back to my tent right now and finish what we started alone but…”

“But your hand feels so much better than my own.” Spencer finished for you. 

You both chuckled as you reached him again, letting go of your blanket and letting it fall to the floor so you wrap your arms around Spencer’s neck. 

“It would just be a one time thing.” You whispered, your breath fanning across his face. 

“Even though you don’t like casual sex.” He placed his hands on your hips. 

“Even though I don’t like casual sex.” You repeated. 

“We’re just…two colleagues helping each other.” Spencer smirked, inching his face closer to yours. 

“And if anyone ever found out…” 

“We’d blame the sun. Summer heat got to us.” 

“Summer heat.” You agreed and with that he kissed you again, drawing you into his body whilst tugging you in the direction of his own tent. 

Spencer had never been a fan of summer. But after today he may have been converted. And he was certain this summer heat between you would continue to smoulder through the seasons. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[rboooks]

DC x DP Fic idea: The Ghost Trio's Food Trip

Gotham has always had an overwhelming pollution problem. They accepted it- even Poison Ivy knew there wasn't much chance to undo what's been done. She merely fought for what was left- and they learned to live with the tainted water, smoke-covered sky, and sometimes spicy air.

The Gotham river wasn't the color of water anymore, it's was either black or on good days dark green.

This is how it was for generations, some saying even before the first Wayne- one of the original founders of Gotham- moved in.

Then one night, Gotham saw three glowing figures in the sky. Now, metas weren't uncommon but everyone knew Batman's stance on them. Just as they knew it would happen, , the Bats attempted to knock the figures down.

Only.....the three fought off all the Bats and won. Gotham Collective held their breath as the strange glowing people brought their Dark Knight and his team to their knees.

A young girl with pure white hair kept Robin, Spoiler and Red Robin a fair fight but ultimately she was victorious.

A young adult man with the same hair color toyed with Nightwing, Red Hood and Signal, looking to be treating their fight like a game.

But worst of all was the young teenage boy who held off Batman and Orphan like they were a annoying fly.

Once the dust settled, the teenager- the apparent leader of the trio- floated a camera from a local need crew to broadcast they defeat of the Batclan.

He is holding the camera like a phone angering his face and the two others to share the screen.

"People of Gotham! I am Phantom, with me is my brother-um what's your code name again?"

The adult man rolled his eyes "Specter"

"Really? That's what you're going with?" Phantom asked and gets smack on the back of his head by Specter.

The young girl giggles, throwing her face into the frame to shout." And I'm Wraith!"

"Come on; we can't all be another word for a ghost!" Phantom whines. "Isn't there something else you want to be called?"

Specter raises a brow, forcefully taking the camera out of Phantom's hand so that his face takes up the entire screen. He stares into the lens, allowing every citizen of Gotham to see his inhuman feature as he smirks."Call me Daddy."

"DAN, NO!" Phantom screams in horror. Wraith cackles somewhere off-screen as Specter blows the camera a kiss. He slaps Phantom's hands away from the desperate attempt to get control of the video camera. "You can be Specter, just never call yourself that again!"

"Dan! Keep away!" Wraith shouts, and the man throws the camera at her as Phantom screams in outrage.

"Give that back!"

"Come and get it!" She taunts only to, throw it back to Specter as Phantom rounds on her.

As the camera jerks back and forth, Gotham can catch glimpses of their heroes. All tied up with glowing green ropes a few feet away, looking worse for wear but awake and quiet.

The three made the mistake of allowing time to plan.

Phantom eventually regains the camera after a while. He clears his throat. "As I was saying, I am Phantom and these are my brother Specter and my sister Wraith. We have ripped open a portal to your city to place claim on your resources! Should you get in the way of our feast, you will be destroyed!"

"What resources do you want?" Red Robin asked somewhere to the right.

Phantom points to the sky, the river and certain parts of the city, dramatically announcing "The ectoplasm!"

The what?

"Today we feast!" He screams and his siblings take flight.

Wraith jumps into the sky, flying across the city in neck breaking speeds, leaving in her trail.....a streak of clear blue sky?

Specter dives head first into the river, absorbing....the black tar and trash leaing clear water?

Phantom inhales, dragging up litter off the closet streets around him. It Flys around him in glowing green, and the boy stuffs them into his mouth. He moans as he chewing. "Scrumptious"

Specter returns, carrying a giant green transparent jar of what looks like Gotham slime swishing within it. He sticks in a straw, tilting the jar in his younger brother's direction. "You have to try a drink of this! The ectoplasm is amazingly sweet!"

As Phantom takes a sip. "Awesome! It's taste just like Far Frozen sparkling water!"

"Guys! Even the air here is tasty!" Wraith announces as she flouts back down her own transparent jar holding what looks like all the smoke and dangerous gasses of Gotham city. "Take a swift!"

The two slam their heads through the glowing green, taking in a long sniff and sighing.

"Wait. Wait. Wait." Red Robin calls, gaining all three attention, "All you want is Gotham's pollution?"

"No, we want the Ectoplasm," Wraith replies, crossing her arms. "And there is nothing you can do to stop us! Nothing any of you can!"

The feed cuts then as a giant portal rips above the city, and the three siblings, fly through it, laughing evilly the entire time.

They return several times a week to "steal" from Gotham and the citizens have never seen their city so clean.

Or Danny, Dan, and Dani have made up and become actual siblings once coming out to their parents. A few quick adoptions papers later, the trio bond by exploring through various doors of the Infinite Realms.

They quickly discover that different worlds have a ton of ectoplasm just up grabs since humans don't eat it and start a food tour across the multiverse during siblings night.

Jazz is welcome, but since she can't eat ectoplasm as they can, she always has a pizza- her comfort food- waiting back at her apartment and a fun session of Dnd ready for them.

Meanwhile, the Bats don't know what type of aliens the Ghost Trio are, but they have been helping with the pollution problem and can't find it in themselves to try and stop them. Damian has never seen the bottom of Gotham River, but he enjoyed painting it after Specter "stole all the ectoplasm" from it, leaving only clean water.

He hopes they visit the beach next. Maybe there was hope for their reefs with the Ghost Trio around.

Tim and Bruce are the only ones obsessed with finding answers, everyone else cheers when the three fly by.

#dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #Ectoplasm in Dc is just pollution #the ghost trio just want to have fun #gotham is going green!

[bucketofpaint]

I had a DC × DP idea.

Danny moves to either Gotham or Metropolis to hide from the GIW and his parents.

Danny isn't getting enough ecoplasm to fully sustain his core, but he can replace the ecoplasm with extra food or getting more sleep in order to make enough energy to sustain himself.

Unfortunately, he can't do either. For one, he is basically homeless and can't afford to buy large amounts of food. Secondly, he is too busy with school, work, and occasionally being a vigilante. He won't be getting the recommended 8 hours, much less more than that. So he stuck on low power mode.

Danny ends up running into the Young Justice team a couple of times during fights. He stays to help out, but as soon as it's over, he's gone. But after one of the battles, Kid is able to catch up to Danny and exchange numbers.

After that, Danny basically becomes an unofficial member of the team.

YJ sees Phantom as an angry and serious meta kid. They are annoyed that he still leaves as soon as the missions are over and that he doesn't really talk to them except if it has something to do with the task at hand. But they still think of Phantom as their friend who is very reliable and caring.

____

Later, after a practically tough mission, Danny passes out and detranforms from using too much energy.The team frantically takes him back to Mount Justice or to The watchtower, where Danny gets some much needed sleep.

Danny wakes up after a few days and notices he is in a medbay. A few minutes after that, he's taken to be integrated by the Justice League.

____

YJ comes back to their usually grumpy teammate laughing and chatting with the Flash while chowing down on a speedster's amount of food. They stand there in total shock of the complete personality change. When it dawns on them, this is Phantom's normal personality.

The whole time, he was just very hangry and tired.

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #young justice #dc universe #Danny is very hangry #dc x dp

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Second Chances Are For Winners

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

WC: 2.7k

TW: Swearing, teasings, blood, abduction, breaking and entering, Criminal Minds General list of triggers apply here.

A/N: Hiya gang! so actually I have been so unmotivated to write and I just got back from vacation so I promise I will finish up VDVE soon. But please enjoy this mouth vomit that Just came out of my mind. It's a part one since the rest of it is mapped out, just not written! (also why is like every other gif his mouth moving. This man really just doesn't stfu and it's only hot on him)

Spencer Reid being overwhelmed was an understatement. He needed to get out of that police station as soon as physically possible. JJ confronting him about his hostility towards her had not gone the way she had hoped it would, and Spencer was once again, fuming. 

The Oklahoma heat was not kind to someone who only wore sweater vests, a fact in which he would later start to reconsider when planning his outfits to places where the heat had personal vendettas against the living. As soon as he stepped outside, it was like he was met with a brick wall of temperatures well over what they should be. As the sweat dripped down his forehead, so did the tension. He took a couple of breaths before picking up the phone and dialing a number he knew all too well. 

“Speak and be heard, Wonder Boy” 

“Hey Garcia,” A small smile formed from hearing the familiar voice. “I need you to look up someone, and find their cell number for me, if that’s okay.”

He could hear Garcia roll across her ‘batcave’, “Hit me.”

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N…” 

“Give me two seconds…..Isn’t she—” 

“Garcia, please.” 

He could hear the smirk forming across her face as her fingers flew across the keys. 

“You’re looking up more than her number…”

“One point for Boy Genius everybody. Yes, I’m looking up more than just her phone number. She’s the gorgeous mystery woman who kissed your cheek in front of the whole team—of course I’m going to look her up now that I have her name.”

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, starting to regret the decision to call Penelope in the first place. “Can you just send me her number and snoop around later Garcia?” 

“Fine Genius.” His phone beeped. “Just sent it to you.” 

“Thank you Penelope.” 

“Anytime Boy Wonder.” Reid hung up the call before looking at the screen, opening the text Garcia had sent him. He smiled at the number, and almost dialed before thinking better of it. Maybe after the case, he’ll call you and take you out for lunch to catch up. But it’s nothing more, Spencer decided. You probably didn’t feel the same way, but at least he knew that there was someone who wasn’t a part of the team in which he could finally vent his frustrations to. Now he’ll finally be able to get an objective view on the whole Emily situation. 

Spencer looked at the file in his hand and sighed, opening it up. As he was reading through it for the umpteenth time, something occurred to him, and he quickly made his way back into the station, and towards his team. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Once the jet touched down in DC, Spencer was the first one off the plane. He walked through the hanger, and towards his car. He could feel the others watching him, especially Emily, but his mind was elsewhere. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out, dialing the number Garcia had sent. 

“Y/L/N and Associates, how may I help you today?” 

Spencer didn’t even try to bite back the smile before he cleared his throat, reaching into his back pocket to grab his keys. 

“Hi, yes, I was wondering if I could speak with Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Sure, let me make sure she’s available. Her meeting should be ending soon. Can I ask what this is for?” 

Spencer pursed his lips before answering. “She, uh, just told me to call this number.” 

He heard the person on the other end shuffle something around before answering, “Good enough for me.” They hummed. “Can I just get a name?”

“Yeah–uh, Spencer–Spencer Reid.” 

“Give me one moment Mr. Reid” was all he heard before he was put on hold. He sighed and entered his car, chucking his go-bag into the passenger seat. As Spencer turned on the car, he heard your voice.

“Spencer?”

His face lit up, and a smile graced his features. 

“Hey! Yeah. Um” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hi.” 

She laughed. “I knew you’d find me eventually, Doctor, but a whole week? I feel that maybe your profiling skills need a bit of sharpening.” 

“Well–I was, I was working on cases. I-I didn’t forget—”

You cut him off, voice softer than he remembered. “I’m just teasing Spencer. So what do I owe the absolute pleasure of having Doctor Spencer Reid grace my line.” 

“Well, I was hoping you’d give me your cell number so I don’t have to annoy your secretary…”

You were silent for a moment. “Well my number is going to cost you something.” 

“Y-Yeah absolutely.” Answered a bit too quickly, almost out of breath. 

“I expect a meal sometime soon, and maybe throw in coffee one of these mornings as well.” 

Spencer smiled so brightly he almost couldn’t see the road as he was driving. 

“I-I, um, think that’s something I can do.” 

He heard you hum in agreement.

“What about tomorrow night?” 

Spencer paused. 

“I–...I actually can’t do tomorrow night, I have a team meeting, but what about breakfast the next morning?” 

He heard you shuffling papers around and a bit of typing on the keyboard before you answered him. “Seems like I’m all yours Doctor.” 

Reid smiled and parked his car outside of his apartment. 

“Then you’ll have to give me your cell phone’s number and it’s a sealed deal.”

“Are you usually this good at negotiations? Should I start prepping my list of demands for breakfast…” You joked, letting out a small laugh. 

Spencer shook his head before he realized you couldn’t see him. “N-No, well yes actually. It’s a part of the whole FBI thing.” 

You laughed at his joke before giving him your cell number. “I’ll see you soon Spencer. Bye.” 

As you hung up the phone, Spencer sent a quick “hey!” text before getting out of the car and heading up to his apartment. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a tense week after all. 

______________________________________________________________________________

The Team isn’t stupid. They’ve noticed that Spencer was somehow in a better mood when he arrived at the office the next morning, despite the way he basically ran away from the jet. They also noticed he was spending a lot more time on his phone than before, especially since Spencer was not the one to text. 

As Spencer dumped his sugar into his coffee mug, Derek came up next to him and started to prepare his own coffee. 

“Wanna tell me why you’re in such a good mood Pretty Boy?” 

Spencer pondered the offer for a moment before putting the sugar back on the counter, next to the coffee pot. “Nope.” and he walked back towards his desk. 

Derek was taken back a little bit, but finished his coffee. He made eye contact with Emily and shrugged. 

Emily was next, since her desk was next to Spencer’s. 

“Morning Spence…” 

“Morning Emily.” He quickly replied, and even flashed her a quick smile before his phone lit up and his attention was taken away from her. He sent a quick text, before placing his phone face down and started looking through his files to find the right paperwork to finish the consultation he had started before they left for Oklahoma. 

“Wanna tell me what’s going on with you?”

“Nope.” Spencer replied yet again, and now that Derek was back, he watched the same look pass through Emily’s face before she looked at Derek. 

Derek decided he was going to try a different tactic this time. “Hey Reid, wanna tell me who you're texting there man?” 

Derek’s face lit up like a Christmas Tree not even a moment later when Spencer ignored his question. 

“Is it…oh what was her name…”

“Ohhhh,” Emily joined in, “It’s the lawyer from last week…” 

Spencer just shrugged and tried to stay focused on the paper in front of him, yet all he had been doing for the past minute was rereading the same line over and over because all he could think about was when you were going to answer his text. 

“The lawyer, right right…” Derek smirked and looked at Emily, both knowing they hit the jackpot. “Wasn’t her name…Y/N?” 

At the mention of your name, Spencer made the mistake of sitting up a bit straighter, which both profilers noticed instantly.

“Oh so Y/N has been texting you all morning huh. Is that why you raced off of the jet last night? Couldn’t wait to go see he–”

“No.” Spencer cut off Derek, looking up at the pair. “I haven’t seen her since last week’s case. Now if the two of you wouldn’t mind leaving me alone I have a lot of paperwork I need to make it through before I head home tonight.” He turned back to the file in front of him and tried to read it again. And again. And again. Eventually, Spencer was able to continue his work once Derek and Emily let him be. 

But anytime his phone buzzed, he could feel the smirks from his friends, he just didn’t care. 

__________________________________________________________________________

You were so over your entire day. Every single one of your active clients decided that they had an issue that needed to be resolved in the second they called you. 

So when you woke up, face leaving a print against the wood of your desk, you let out a groan. 

The little clock in the corner of your laptop's screen flashed the time, causing you to let out a string of curses. 

“I cant fucking believe it’s 2 am. Fuck.” You grumbled, standing up and stretching your arms over your head. 

Your phone screen lit up with a notification, which also showed that you had missed a few text messages from your favorite profilers. The last one was a, correct, guess that you had fallen asleep at your desk. You smiled and responded with: 

Do you ever get tired of being right all the time Doctor Reid?

As you packed up your things, your phone buzzed. 

Not really. It’s just in my nature. 

You laughed out loud a bit, shaking your head. 

And why are you still awake? 

That’s when your phone rang. You held it in your hand, staring at it for a moment, before remembering to answer it. 

“Hello?”

“Did you even check caller ID or are you trying to encourage stalkers?” Spencer’s voice rang through your body as you let out another laugh, placing the phone between your shoulder and your ear, packing up the rest of your things. 

“Well Spencer, I seriously can’t think of another person to call me at this hour besides you…; and maybe this Baby Daddy who won’t leave me alone.” You grumbled, shoving your laptop into your bag with a little extra force than normal. 

“Baby daddy?” 

“Yeah, one of my clients, he’s a sweet guy—great dad. But because he’s so worried about his daughter having any sort of parenting time, he’s been calling me nonstop, freaking out about supervised visits. Like, I get it, but it’s fucking 2 am and I stop working at 5, maybe 6 the latest. 

You heard Spencer hum in response, but no words. “Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” 

“Ye-yeah, I uh–”

“Did…Did you think I was talking about someone I had a kid with?” 

Spencer sputtered out a “n-no, why–why would…”

You let out another laugh, that was like music to his ears. “Spencer, I feel like you should have figured that out from the way that you clearly used the FBI to look up my office number to get my cell number. You would’ve found out if I had kids.” 

“Y-Yeah I guess…” 

“Give me one second Spencer.” and before he could respond, you put your phone down, and pulled out your airpods, letting them connect to your phone so you could go hands free. 

“Can you hear me?” You placed your phone in your skirt pocket, adjusting your airpods so that they would be comfortable. 

“Yeah? Is everything okay?” 

“I just had to put my headphones on, I need my hands.” You slid on your heels, and walked out of your office locking the door. “Tell me about your day Spencer, I have to walk around and lock up.” 

Spencer hummed again and looked up at his ceiling. He had been sitting in his apartment, trying to read, waiting for you to answer his text–partially because he thought the worst, but mostly because he couldn't stop thinking about you. 

“Well. Not much happened. I was at work, and was trying to finish a report for this case I’m consulting on by sending them a preliminary profile, and then Derek was up my ass all day.” 

“What about?” You asked, placing your bag on the floor near the office, going to check the rest of the offices to make sure no one was still there. 

“Oh, um, well…”

You laughed again, causing his chest to swell again. “So it was me.” You teased me. “Excited to talk to me?”

You could feel Spencer turning redder and redder as the moments went on.

After a brief pause, Spencer responded to you. “And what if I am?”

It was your turn to blush, but it only made you feel a bit bolder. 

“Getting a bit flirtatious, Spence. This is not the Reid I once knew from all those years ago.”

You could hear Spencer laugh. 

“You sound tired. Why don’t you get some rest Spencer.” 

Spencer sat up straighter. “No. I’ll stay on the phone with you—” He interrupted himself with a yawn. “Until you get home. What kind of agent would I be letting you walk home alone at this hour.” 

“I’m not going to stop you, but if you fall asleep….I’m hanging up.” 

“Fine—Just text me when you get home?” 

You hummed and nodded. “Can do sweetheart. Night Spencer.” 

“Night Y/n” 

You hung up the phone and turned on your spotify, listening to some music that would make this fifteen minute walk bearable. You usually drive into work, but it had been such a nice day, and you usually don’t mind getting in the extra walk since you sit behind a desk all day. 

You paused before you exited the first set of doors—part of you felt like you should just go back upstairs and sleep in your office. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it would provide a certain agent with a lot more comfort knowing you’re somewhere safe. 

But then you thought about your bed, and the new sheets you put on the night before, and the weighted blanket spread out across the bed spread, and you realized you’d much rather sleep under that than on a stale couch without even a pillow. 

You managed to make a fifteen minute walk into a ten one. Speeding home at 2 am was not exactly what you wanted to do, but you’d rather that then the couch. You quickly unlocked the front door and made it up the stairs and into your apartment. 

You sent Spencer a quick text saying that you had arrived home, and immediately moved into your bedroom. 

The apartment was a small one bed, one bath. It would have been considered a studio if not for the door between your bedroom and the kitchen/living room/entrance/dining room. Your bedroom was quite small, with a skinny closet, a dresser, and your bed. You had gotten lucky enough to shove your bed against one wall, and create a reading nook in the turret window on the other side of the room, which was only about ten feet away, but still. 

You kicked off your shoes, and made your way into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and listening to whatever music spotify had decided to play for you. 

You took off your outfit for the day and pulled on your pajamas, which felt so good against your skin as you slid into your bed, and shut the lights off. 

You wished you took the first option when two minutes later, you heard your bedroom door creak open, and a voice tell you not to scream. 

To Be Continued...

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#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer reid x y/n angst #Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader #spencer reid masterlist #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fic #Spencer reid x reader fic

[mysterycitrus]

Clearly you’ve got a lot of opinions abt the characterisations of the batfam in fandom /pos

Can you elaborate on your interpretation for all of them? /gen

it’s called caring too much — and it’s incurable! wrt my personal interpretation, that's a long and complicated answer, so ill just focus on the internal character of the waynes (specifically bruce and his five canonical kids).

bruce wayne is a control freak, we know this. his parents were killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he has literally never ever been able to truly process it. the degree to which he is controlling - firing robins, survelling his allies without their consent, compiling personal information from others, disregarding others feelings in favour of his own - is all about trying to achieve the best possible outcome. everything he does is justified, because if he's in control then he can stop bad things from happening. it is all in favour of the greater good. it's the logic of an eight year old who's just lost everything and hasn't grown up.

if bruce's trauma manifests control then dick's manifests personal perfectionism. he holds himself to such an absurd standard because he's a flier - when you're catching someone on the trapeze you quite literally have to be there, always, ready to take their hand. if you don't, they fall. if there's no net, if dick isn't the net, then they die. he’s always swinging back out and in again, waiting for the next person to slip through his fingers. he does not fear falling, only what will happen when he hits the ground. he’s a born performer made to be an atlas, carrying an unbearable weight that anchors him to the earth.

jason after death is a tragedy of his own creation, and dc's worst crime is trying to justify the terrible decisions he makes. jason isn’t right, because what he wants is not about protecting other kids from his fate or being a better batman. he wants to be personally vindicated, even though he knows it's impossible. jason rejected himself, bruce, everything, in order to transform into a weapon to enact violence. deep down he's so angry, so hurt, that he'll go after other children - tim, damian, mia - and still decry bruce in the same breath. killing the joker, killing bruce, killing dick, killing every robin before or since won't take him back to who he was before. you cannot go back. you can never go back.

cass sees everything. she can't unsee it, she can't ignore it, nothing in the body can be truly hidden from her, but like bruce that doesn't mean she's always right. she killed a man and witnessed his death, and thus will never take another life. she is all knowing, but she was not born knowing herself. she's jason in reverse — she turns from steel to flesh and bone. she will do whatever it takes to be good. she has made herself real.

tim chose this life in the most literal sense of the word, and then kept choosing it. it’s his duty, it’s his honour, it has hollowed him out and left nothing behind. his tethers to the world snap one by one — janet and jack and darla and dana and steph and kon — and suddenly it’s much harder to extricate himself from the black. robin, dick grayson, is his guiding north star, but his north star is only human. he knows he is capable, he knows this is his choice, and he knows he has long since lost the chance to unchoose.

damian is raised in the shadow of the bat. he is born of blood. he knew death before he knew his father. he is a child. he is ancient. he is a killer. he only wants to do good. he loves his mother. his father is gone before he learns to love damian. damian loves someone else who wears the bat but does not carry wayne name. everything he knows about himself is questioned — robin is given to him, and suddenly he can decide his own fate, make his own family. he wants to be the best, but he doesn’t know what he wants that to mean anymore. he wants the chance to find out.

#sorry this got long! not sure if i actually answered ur question lol #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #nightwing #batgirl #batman #dc comics #the ask and the answer #dc meta #ig?