#but LORD IS IT CRIMINAL

[rexscanonwife]

I'm pretty sure I've made this EXACT post before but the fact that I can't just LOOK UP content of my favorite boy in the world my baby Kepler makes me wanna rip chunks out of the drywall with my teeth

[radiance1]

Danny: Hey, I need you to be my boyfriend for a week.

Jason: What.

Danny: My parents are coming over and I've apparently accidentally talked about a partner more than once and only realized when they said they wanted to meet them.

Jason, currently still solidifying his power as a Crime Lord: Excuse me?

Danny: Let me get this out of the way, I do not consider you at all a person of romantical interest and a friend. But I need you to act as my partner for only a week until my parents go on their merry way over to my sister, okay?

Jason: Is there, quite literally, no one else to ask this?

Danny: You're my only friend who lives in Gotham, plus we share the same apartment.

Jason: That's almost sad.

Danny: You in?

Jason: Sure, why not.

===

Maddie: Danny, honey.

Danny: Yes mom?

Maddie: I don't mean to.... question, who you choose as your parent but. Well, me and your father was just wandering if he was a... [Maddie gestures with her hand] you know, one of those.

Danny, uncomprehendingly staring at his mother's hand: What.

Maddie: Oh dear, how do I bring this up. You know, one of those.

Danny: Mother I need more context.

Jack: If your boyfriend a crime lord!?

Maddie: Jack!

Jack: What? Beating around the bush wasn't helping!

Danny: Say WHAT?

===

Danny: Hey dude, thanks for helping with this even though you didn't need to!

Jason: No problem, I wasn't doing anything too [Crime Lord activities flash through his mind] important.

Danny: Can you believe my parents thought you were a crime lord though? Weird am I right?

Jason:

Danny: Jason. You are scaring me.

Jason: Haha, yea that's weird isn't it?

Danny: Jason.

Jason: Well, I have to leave now to attend to my totally real and totally not crime related job at the ice cream shop.

Danny: [Squints eyes]

Jason: [Internally sweating bullets]

Danny: Suuuuure, bring me back some ice cream though.

Jason: [Thumbs up and leaves]

[angelhht]

Their designs are 🔥🔥🔥

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny runs for Mayor

Simple Prompt: Danny runs for the Gotham Mayor position

Extended Prompt: Danny is an absolute little shit throughout his entire campaign but still manages to win because he is legitimately one of the best candidates around

Just imagine the crack that could come from this!

Reporter: What is your stance on Vigilantism? Danny: Well I agree that Vigilantes are helpful for the communities that need them, and they should work with the police at every opportunity, I feel like the idea will always be a city where Vigilantes are not needed. Also I fail to see the relevancy of the question, there are no vigilantes in Gotham Reporter: What do you mean? What about the Bat-Family? Danny: No, Batman isn’t a Vigilante. Batman is a Crime Lord.

Or

Danny: As mayor, I promise that I will not be infected by corruption. Not because of my moral standings, but because I absolutely fucking hate clowns and I will never accept a bribe as long as that guy is still alive. Yes this is me putting a hit out on the Joker. Crime Bosses, if you want to try and bribe me, you gotta kill him first or I won’t even consider it!

Or

Batman: Why is a Meta-Human running for Gotham Office? You know this city doesn’t have a very good track record with people like you. Even the Signal had a rough start. Danny: Well, I just had a strong compulsion to help this city reach the peak of it’s potential *looks over Batman’s shoulder to see Lady Gotham holding up Cue Cards telling him what to say. She promised to help with his paperwork for the next 50 years if he became Mayor and helped fix her city* Danny: Such a strong compulsion...

Or

Penguin: Look kid, I don’t care if you have enough power to destroy me at the subatomic level, I have enough money to ruin you, your sister, your parents, even your uncle! Danny: Oh really? I could get the souls of every person you have ever killed to get confessions out of them. Or I could give them the power to rip you apart. Or I could even just possess you and donate all your money to charity.

Or

Danny: Oh god dammit! Vlad: Hello Badger! Glad to see you followed in my footsteps instead of your fathers! Danny: This wasn’t because of you! Lady Gotham asked for help! Vlad: A WIN IS A WIN!

[jaca3rys]

No because Padmé was crazy for not kissing this man every time she saw him I would have made out with him every time

[reiderwriter]

This request is inspired by the season 1 finale when Elle and Morgan are on that tropical vacation:) could you do something where the team is somewhere like that for a case and after it’s closed they decide to stay another night and go to a club and the reader gets Spencer to dance with her and at first he’s really awkward but then they really get into it (can end however you want:))

A/N: I took this idea and RAN. When I tell you I was sitting furiously the entire way through this, I mean it 😭 thank you so much for requesting! 🥰

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, semi-public sex, Munch!Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol consumption, slight masturbation (m).

The sun was bright and hot in Jamaica. You'd landed a week ago for a case which had now wrapped and were enjoying the cool breeze from the sea and the hospitality of Derek Morgan’s hotel-resort-owning friend. 

Travelling internationally was always a little bit tougher than working on the domestic cases, but the international team was spread thin, and somehow, no case had landed on your desk until this one did. Graciously, the FBI had let you have another 24 hours before your return. 

You'd spent the day stretching out in the sun, an incredibly large beach umbrella set up beside you housing Spencer Reid who had let you know early into the trip that he burned easily. 

“All I'm saying is, I've read enough papers on skin cancer to know the sun is a deadly laser.” 

“A twenty minute game of beach volleyball isn't going to kill you, kid. Come on, these ladies are waiting, and I will leave your ass here.” 

“Stop bothering him, Derek,” you defended Spencer, partly because Derek was casting a shadow across you and cutting off your sun, and partly because you didn't want to acknowledge the pit of jealousy bubbling up in your body when the women threw themselves at Spencer. “Besides, do you really want Spencer on your team for a physical sport?” 

“Y/N has a point, listen to Y/N,” Spencer whined, nodding profusely at your words. 

Derek held his hands up in defeat and walked away, wondering how long it would take the two of you to sort whatever attachment issues you had out. 

When the sun had eventually retreated, and you'd pulled the beach dress you'd bought earlier that day back on, Spencer was still at your side. 

“You know, I think you caught some sun, Spencer,” you giggled, running a hand across his now permanently rosy cheeks and feeling their warmth. “Your cheeks are so red. It's like a grandma just pinched them and held on.” 

“I told you I could look at the sun and burn, and we've been out here all day,” he grumbled, pouting slightly. 

You beamed up at him, though. You hadn't forced Spencer out. In fact, you'd been fully prepared for him to stay inside all day reading. But when he asked you your plans at breakfast, he'd asked to join you, and you hadn't protested in the slightest. 

Walking slowly back to the main part of your resort, you softly hummed the music that travelled from the outdoor beach bar. The music had been constant throughout the day, and you swayed your hips in time to the music as you walked. 

“Y/N…” Spencer started, a few paces behind you. You turned to look at him. His usual wardrobe wasn't exactly the most beach friendly attire, so you'd hunted down a pair of board shorts and a short sleeve button down when you'd bought your dress that morning. You thought they'd hang awkwardly off him, but he filled them out surprisingly well. As he spoke, though, you found yourself unconsciously moving forward to straighten a wrinkle in his shirt.

 “I think Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss mentioned they were going to get drinks in the bar this evening. Do you want to go, too?” 

Your hand stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him. It was golden hour, and the sun had halo'd him perfectly in its dying rays, showing off its beauty one last time. 

You had to recapture the breath you'd hiccuped out when he'd held your gaze, willing your heartbeat to stay somewhat normal. 

“Oh, great! That sounds like fun, I was just thinking about how I wanted to dance.”

“I know,” he whispered softly as you turned away cheerfully. You almost didn't hear it, and though you desperately wanted to turn around and ask him why, you continued ahead toward the twinkling lights of the bar. 

Three hours later, you were in your cups. You'd worked hard on your case throughout the week, and now it was time for distraction. 

Besides, you knew that sun and alcohol weren't always the best pairing, so you'd stayed hydrated on the beach. Now the sun had gracefully set, you were happy to enjoy a glass or two of your liquid joy. 

Pulling Spencer Reid onto the dance floor in front of all your coworkers was just another symptom of your piña colada buzz, and he followed you with a small hesitation and a small laugh of protest. 

“Y/N, I can't dance.” 

“Shhhhhh, you don't have to dance, you just have to sway. Just sway.” 

“By my definition, swaying is dancing.” 

You rolled your eyes at him but pulled his hands around your waist always. Your coordination faltered, though, and you landed awkwardly high on your body. Without a care in the world for the trail of fire you were igniting down your back, you slid his hands lower, until his hands were sat nearer to your ass than your hips, and you stepped in. 

With his arms in position, you threw your own around his neck, and absent mindedly began playing with the curls at the base of his neck. 

“Now sway, Spencer.” 

His eyes locked with yours, and he obliged. Your chest had pressed up against his after all, your bodies practically flush, and now that you were moving in time to the music, it was inevitable that he should, too. 

Time travelled quickly as you stood in the glow of each other, laughing and joking about each clumsy step, each bump from other dancers. Your coworkers had each come up to wave a quick goodbye through the night, but you were still there. Still swaying. 

You were sure that his hands had travelled the length of your body, the heat that burned you from inside out having filled your body a millenia ago. 

He'd spun you out a couple times, and you'd giggled in delight at the motion, letting your dress raise and spin in the breeze, and returning to a closer position than before, more intimate somehow each time. 

The two of you were so lost in each other that by the time the DJ was shutting his system down, you hadn't even realised the music had stopped. You were now simply swaying along to the sound of the waves crashing in and out. 

“Y/N,” he finally whispered into your ear as the sun again began to show its head. “Y/N, the sun is coming up.” 

“I know. I think…. I think I don't want to let you go just yet, though.” You kept moving together in that silence for a few more minutes, but now your eyes were locked. 

It wasn't a surprise when his lips touched your own. After all, you'd seen them coming. But the jolt of electricity it sent up your spine stole your breath anyway. 

You opened your mouth to take in some air, and he saw that as welcoming. His tongue tangled with yours as his hand lifted to tip your head back, his back already bent slightly to accommodate your height difference. 

His guiding hand wasn't enough, though, he was still not close enough. 

You subtly lifted your leg and his hand instantly dropped to your thighs, hauling you up into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Our flight is in six hours,” you panted as his lips left yours, suddenly sober again. “We should get some rest.” 

He nodded in agreement, but he was already walking back to your rooms. You each had your own, but he hadn't relinquished his hold on you yet, and you knew he wasn't going to. 

Good, you thought, because logic be damned but you weren't planning on letting him. 

He carried you like that all the way to his door, as you pressed chaste kisses across his face, head, ears, hair, anywhere you could reach on his body. Places you appreciated because they were beautiful and lovely. 

You longed to kiss everywhere else, too. 

“Y/N, we're here.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. There was an unspoken question there. An invitation to leave if you didn't want this. 

Your answer was a hand in his hair and hips pressed back against his. It was all he needed as he blindly pushed into the room. 

You thought he'd throw you down on the bed, but he was much too gentle for that. 

Instead, he sat himself down, taking care to make sure you were comfortable even as his tongue twisted and writhed against your own. 

With this new position, you could try to relieve some of the tension that had been burning in your body since you'd first pulled his hands to you. Your hips moved in slow circles, pressing down into the now obvious bulge in his pants, picking up speed with each caress of his hand. 

He'd pushed under the hem of your dress, his hands on your bare thighs gripping you tightly as you used his body to get off. 

You both moaned and whined through each wet kiss, the gentleness of your earlier encounters chaste in comparison with the animalistic need pulsing through yourself. 

You nearly growled when he lifted your hips again, but you let him continue his motions as he lay back, guiding your hips higher and higher until you straddled his face. 

“Shit, Spencer-” You lost the words as his fingers pulled the two ties holding your bikini bottoms in place, effectively discarding them and leaving you bare. You gasped as you held yourself above him, but he was strong and insistent.

Wrapping one hand around each of your splayed thighs, he pulled your core to his mouth and began to pleasure you. Your hands jolted to the headboard so you could steady yourself. 

Your dress still remained, spread across the bed and obscuring his face from view as he flicked his tongue against your clit, like a flower decorating the Emerald green sheets of the bed. 

“Spencer, fuck,” his hold on your thighs loosened now that he knee you weren't going anywhere, one hand sliding down to his own neglected cock. 

The looser grip meant you could move, just slightly, and so you began to ride his face. 

You moved your hips back and forth as he flattened out his tongue, and you heard the music that had carried you into the night start up again. 

Your moans were melodic, a tribute to your lust for him, an offering made to show him how truly desired he was. 

You came with a shudder, the full weight of your body falling down onto his tongue, but he didn't stop. 

His tongue started moving again now your hips had twitched to a stop, prolonging your orgasm by an eternity. 

You finally rose up on your knees when you felt a second orgasm begin to build, craving something different this time. 

He didn't come out from under your dress so much as rip the thing off of both of you. 

You'd already rid yourself of your bikini top earlier in the dar, so you sat bare above him as he pulled you again into his lap, his cock now free from his pants. 

Your lips came together again as you hovered over him, his length running through your folds, readying himself for the sweet moment he'd finally be inside you. 

“You taste sweet,” he said before you sucked on his tongue, desperate to taste your joint lust. 

The music played once again as he pulled your hips lower down and sheathed himself inside you, but louder, a crescendo of perfectly resonant notes sounding one after the other. 

You were too lost in it to be any help to him, and he kissed away your fatigue as he lowered you to the bed, gently placing your head on the pillow and smoothing the hair out of your face before pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside you and again pushing in. 

His rhythm was steady, pulsing through your entire body. You felt the pleasure of his body inside you everywhere as his lips returned to your ear. 

You thought he would talk and say something again, but his teeth found you instead, his to gue licking the spot where your neck met your lobe before he gently nipped the side of your ear. 

He couldn't talk, but he didn't hold back any moans. 

Your whimpers, his groans, the steady rhythm of your hips meeting and pulling apart, the sound of your arousal slick between your legs, all joined together in a symphony of love as your hearts sang to one another. 

“Y/N,” he finally moaned, and hearing your name on his lips like a prayer was enough to send you over the edge. 

“Spencer! I'm cumming again, Spencer. Please don't stop-” You begged even as your body tensed up beneath him. 

He continued that rhythm, not letting your music end until it was absolutely necessary. 

But as the sun shone through the curtains again, you knew you were reaching the end of this song. 

“Where should-” he couldn't form the full question, elbows holding his weight off of you as he held back the full force of his orgasm. 

“P-Pull out,’ you whispered, and he did. 

It took him only a few strokes to find completion on your stomach. He sat back on his knees, mindful not to press his weight back down upon you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed at him anyway, needing to feel his lips on yours one more time. 

You wondered if your entire life would now be the moments in between his kisses. 

“Y/N, our flight is in 5 hours.” 

“We can sleep on the jet. We can't do this on the jet,” you said pulling his head back down for a kiss as you heard the music start up once again. 

[im-tired-404]

Me when I see a piece of media about something I’m hyperfixated on:

[bucker3911]

outfits i'd k!ll to see spencer reid in

yes the iconic gray sweatpants

i honestly prefer black but it's still a gate way to see his cock-ROACH cockroach

(COCK)ROACHES

his cock...... tails 🧍🏼‍♀️

....ty now byebye 🫠

[beware-of-you-98]

Lord save me from being such an over analyzing person…. because this right here has driven me to near insanity

[wardengrill]

Hotch in Risky Business

[fcthots]

Jason’s name comes from Greek mythology meaning to heal btw in case you wanted to cry today

[ghost-bxrd]

“It ain’t a pony ride out there, boss,” he says, tone neutral, but Jason can hear the undercurrent of bitterness in it, “Ain’t nobody lookin’ to hire one like me ‘cept crooks. Penguin had decent enough pay and didn’t have us doin’ gutter work, ‘s more than I’d coulda asked.”

Jason hums, coming to a slow stop in front of the man to stare him down through the expressionless lenses of his helmet. Behind him, loading a truck advertising “Daisy’s Floral Florist” full of drugs hidden in boxes packed with plastic bouquets, his goons pretend like they’re not listening with rapt attention to the exchange taking place.

Jason nods, tilts his head, nods again, and then jams the barrel of a gun into the soft underside Dave’s jaw, “I don’t believe you.”

Dave, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. Just keeps staring straight ahead, stance open, like they hadn’t first met each other when Jason was drenched in blood and chucked his predecessor’s head at him with a dry “Congrats on your promotion.” Like the Red Hood isn’t the definition of violence waiting to happen.

It fucking pisses him off.

Jason snorts and holsters the gun in one smooth motion, stepping back.

“But you’re in luck. I need a second pair of hands to run things for the next job when I’m-“ picking my kid up from school and make sure he hasn’t burned the whole thing down in the meantime, “…unavailable.”

— The Antithesis of Magic, Chpt 6 sneak peek

[moowithmidnight]

Watching criminal minds for the first time- I’m still only halfway through S7 but I have some thoughts on both the characters and the fandom-

1. This fandom infantilizes the shit out of Reid and it’s wildly ironic considering how much he canonically hates that. Also, I am so sorry, but that man is not as hot as y’all insist he is-

2. I fully believe the only reason there’s like no Rossi love is because y’all don’t want to fuck him. As a resident lesbian, let me say that I love Hotch so much, but Rossi is so funny and his relationships with the team are severely underrated.

3. Whyyyy do they make Morgan so chill 90% of the time and then he just comes swinging out of the gate with wildly misogynistic shit?? It actually makes me angry. Like his whole thing with Elle, and the way he basically slut-shamed Emily when he was pissed at her about Doyle? Wild.

4. Y’all will call the female characters stuck-up/bitchy/entitled for doing the exact same things you praise the male characters for, and it’s so obvious it’s wild,,,

5. Actively disliking Garcia is such a red flag, end of discussion.

6. Elle lashing out at Hotch is not a valid reason to dislike her unless you also dislike literally every other main character. Seriously. They’ve pretty much all unfairly lashed out at other members of the team when under extreme stress (Dilaudid, Prince of Darkness, Doyle, etc.) and never apologized on-screen for it.

7. Hotch is genuinely a really good unit chief- mans is pretty much constantly killing it

8. Penelope & Hotch are such an underrated duo, every time they interact Hotch is so sweet to her, and it’s obvious how much they respect each other. 20/10 relationship

9. There’s no ship that I actually LOVE between the BAU members. Spencer/Elle and Emily/JJ are probably the two I like the most, but nothing I love

10. I really wish they had tried to give Seaver a personality beyond “replacement J.J.” but straight up hating her is wild to me.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC Phantom Punk: Rowdy 3

Back on my Punk Danny agenda

So, Danny is not like your typical ghost, and thus, Dan and Dani, aren't either. Most ghosts can coast by naturally and just exist outside the GZ despite the lack of ectoplasm, as long as they don't go overboard

The Phantoms?

They need more. It's not normal to need that much ectoplasm, but after a series of incidents where both the Fanton's and Vlad's portals no longer exist, they're a little screwed

So, what's a trio of Punk ghosts to do?

Luckly, there is a way to supplement their energy, and they learned it from a less than savory source... Spectra. Spectra feeds off of emotions, misery, anxiety and depression being her bread and butter. Now, technically any emotion will do, it just has to be heightened for them to get anything out of it. Joy and euphoria can work, but it's hard to consistently produce those emotions and feed. Things like fear and anger are easier to produce, but come with some... ethical issues

Their solution? Get it from people who deserve it

So, Dan, Danny, Dani, and [insert fourth character here, maybe Jazz? Sam would probably be down, remember to delete placeholder] hop into a heavily graffitied GAV and drive to Gotham. Living out of the GAV, Decked out in leather, spikes and denim, they roll into the most crime ridden city in the world and proceed to find random goons and criminals homes, bust the place up, make them nearly shit their pants and then feed off the fear and anger of these career criminals

Meanwhile, the Bats keep showing up at the scene just after they scram and keep having to deal with the aftermath

The inspiration is the rowdy 3 from Dirk Gently's Holistic Dectective Agency, if you are not familiar with my favorite punk energy vampires, allow me to educate you (only watch to the two minute mark if you want to avoid spoilers for the show)

[kathrynmhahn]

AARON HOTCHNER criminal minds | 6.20