(Spoiler and Red Hood interrogating an annoying criminal [no, not the Riddler... This time])

Criminal: I'm tellin' ya, no lie!

Spoiler: I don't believe you. Start telling the truth.

Criminal: I'm serious!

Red Hood, pulling a gun out: Tell us!

Spoiler: I'd tell him. My partner here isn't in a very good mood. If I were you, I would talk, because he looks very close to stealing your bones.

Criminal: Stealing my bones!? What the fuck!?

Spoiler: Yeah. I mean, it's the Red Hood. Haven't you heard of him putting heads in a dufflebag? I've seen his bone collection, and I've seen how he gets those bones. Honestly, not pretty.

Criminal: Okay! Jesus fuckin' Christ I'll tell ya everything! Just let me keep my bones!

Spoiler, perking up: Thank you very much!

AU for Bats and the JL

When Duke joins the brigade, the Bats are ecstatic to introduce him to the JL. Why? None of the JL actually believe that the Bats are non-meta humans. Are they supposed to believe that Batman can do all that he can because he trains really hard?

The JL is so convinced that the Bats are lying about not having powers that they've included it in New Member initiation. It's considered "rude" and "mean" to call out Bats on their very obvious power usage. In fact, guessing Bat powers is half the fun! They gather all of the non-Bat members to have potluck discussions about it.

Obviously, the Bats are well aware of these meetings. They have their own gatherings where they laugh at the suggestions or come up with strategies to fuck with the JL.

For Bruce, the JL is convinced that the man has control over shadows as well as increased mental compacities. Bruce is way too skilled in disappearing in a room full of people with enhanced senses. Also, he knows facts about almost every subject.

For Dick, that man should not be able to move like he does. He either doesn't have bones or has increased elasticity. Dick's favorite JL memory is crawling down the Watchtower halls with his joints in weird places. Green Arrow's scream is forever recorded and backed up into five different servers.

At first, the JL thought Jason had emotional manipulation capabilities. The hope, courage, and passion he inspired could not have been naturally occurring. Then, after he re-emerged as the Red Hood, obviously his powers are resurrection -_-

Tim? Kid's a cryptic ancient creature. The creepy kid will stare at you without blinking throughout a two hour meeting. Stay away from him and don't piss him off.

Steph nearly laughed herself into a coma when someone tried to convince Hal that Spoiler gets her power from the color purple. Her switching to Robin's costume caused a riot and the JL members frantically scheduled an emergency non-Bat meeting. Should they intervene with Bruce forcing her to wear a costume without aid to her powers? The few months she was Robin were tense for the members.

Damian has an ability to understand martial arts on an unparalleled level. What other non-meta ten year old can utilize a sword so effectively?

Cass is an entity. They don't know what she is, but they fear her all the same.

Barbara is all-knowing. Her ability to collect information and navigate technology can not be naturally occurring.

Now, the JL is faced with the first Bat to admit he has powers. Does that mean none of the others have powers? Is Signal's just too obvious to deny?

love languages

AN: i don't actually know if i ever did this, so i'm doing it now. sorry for the long hiatus, life is packed full of stuff, as usual. i hope you all had a peaceful christmas and an equally peaceful new year's eve.

summary: love languages of the slashers, both receiving and giving.

warnings: mentioned sex in Bo's, mentioned weed and alcohol in Otis', canon backstories of the slashers

slashers: Michael (RZ), Vincent, Bo and Lester, Brahms, Thomas, Otis and Baby, Jason, Josef and Amanda.

(𝕽𝖅) 𝕸𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖑 𝕸𝖞𝖊𝖗𝖘

Giving

Gift giving and acts of service describe Michael's style of loving you perfectly. He may not be the most talkative, physically affective partner, but he's protective and creative.

The protectiveness shows when he takes care of problems you have, no matter how small. The sink needs fixing? He's on it. You need help lifting something heavy? He's ready to flex those muscles. A person at work is annoying you? Just say the word and he'll take care of them.

The creativity becomes visible in the little gifts that get more individual the longer you know him. In the beginning, he gifted you nearly everything he could find: some candy, a dead mouse, sometimes pretty rocks. As time passes, he spends more time on them. Now you get carved bones, self-made masks, he even picks flowers now and then!

Receiving

Michael would never, ever ask for this, but I'm convinced he loves physical touch as a love language. It doesn't even have to be a big thing, Mikey already enjoys you stitching him up when he got hurt again. His personal heaven, though? You, laying on his chest while watching a hilariously bad horror movie and eating some take-out.

𝖁𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖗

Giving

Totally quality time. It would be gifts, but Vincent's gifts are rarer than you'd expect. Most of the time, he gets too insecure and critical of the gift (mostly a drawing or a sculpture) which stops him from ever giving it to you.

Instead, he makes sure you're comfortable and safe in Ambrose. Whatever you want to do, Vincent will do it with you. Even if you just want to spend the day in bed and cuddle, he's absolutely down. Sometimes he organizes little dates for the two of you, where you can spend some time away from his brothers and the Sinclair residence. Especially after he was too focused on the museum for a while, cute dates are his way of apologizing.

Receiving

100% words of affirmation. While Vincent's childhood was filled with (mostly toxic) compliments, he hasn't heard them in a long, long time. And his little artist ego misses them dearly. It doesn't matter if you praise his art, or anything else, he loves it. He wants to hear how much you love him, that you'd never leave him. He can't relax without some reassuring words. The only compliments, he's sensitive about are the ones about his face.

𝕭𝖔 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖗

Giving

With Bo, it's actually acts of service. Sure, he's physically expressive as well, always down to touch and caress you, but does he know how to show love through that? No.

He rather focuses on providing for you, mostly by earning a little money to get by. He also prides himself by being the go-to man for reparations around the house.

Receiving

Just like his twin, it's words of affirmation. Unlike Vincent, Bo never got any praise in his early years. He's never known the feeling of being complimented for anything else but his body or his ability to fuck someone. And he doesn't know how much he needs it until you show up. (Imagine him wanting nothing more than to make you proud, so he gets some praise. Shut up, I'm not crying.)

𝕷𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖗

Giving

Oh, Lester loves to give gifts. He's super into crafting and collecting stuff he finds to make something new out of it. Stuff like bone necklaces, animals carved out of wood or self-made jewelry. They're always so beautiful, and you're sure he spends hours making them.

Though, during busy times, he has to content with a small bouquet of wildflowers he got for you. You're always excited anyway, no matter the size of the gift.

Receiving

I strongly believe one of Lester's dreams is a wholesome, domestic lifestyle with a spouse he can come home to. So it's acts of service. He loves coming home to a warm and comfortable home with you waiting for him. And if you cook him a meal? He's in heaven.

However, he also adores physical touch. Nothing is more relaxing than laying on your lap with your fingers in his hair.

𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖍𝖒𝖘 𝕳𝖊𝖊𝖑𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖊

Giving

I think it's obvious that Brahms' love language is physical touch. He can not keep his hands off of you. And he doesn't care whether you're busy or not.

To cut him some slack, there's no slasher that knows how to be as comforting with touch as Brahms is. Plus, his hands are the softest.

Receiving

Who would've thought, it's still physical touch. In addition to that, words of affirmation. Brahms loves touching, and he loves being touched equally much. He also likes being praised, as we all know.

On a more serious note, Brahms needs your voice to ground himself pretty often. His entire life was filled with so many rules and restrictions, it's strange to be a free man suddenly. Praising him, complimenting him, reassuring him - it often saves him from spiraling into a melt-down when something goes wrong.

𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝕳𝖊𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖙

Giving

Tommy prides himself as the provider of his family (because he is). Therefor, his love language is acts of service. He sews for you, he fixes things for you, he threatens Hoyt when he once again crosses a line. Thomas would do anything for you, really. His biggest fear is to be without you, and so he works hard to eradicate any chance of that ever happening.

Receiving

Thomas is so touch starved, he adores physical touch. Ever since he was born, people were too afraid or too disgusted to touch him, to even get close to him. The only exception was Luda Mae. He used to think he would die without knowing any loving touch.

And then you came around, and you're so affective, so sweet to him. Tommy doesn't think he deserves you, but whenever you touch him, he melts anyway.

𝕺𝖙𝖎𝖘 𝕯𝖗𝖎𝖋𝖙𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉

Giving

As surprising as it sounds, Otis' love language is giving gifts. Otis isn't good with words (don't get me wrong, he can hold speeches like a champ, but let's be honest, he'd rather bite his tongue off than say anything emotional), he's often rougher than he'd like, he's lazy and his past-time activities are... special. In his eyes, there's only one way to prove his adoration, and it's surprisingly well-chosen gifts.

Otis always seems to know what you're currently interested in or what you wanted for a while. When he hands you the gift, he brushes it off like it's nothing, even if you're getting super emotional, but you know he means well. (He steals them, by the way, I don't think he pays for anything ever.)

Receiving

Otis loves to spend time with you, so quality time. He's been alone for so long, it's refreshing to have someone beside him who actually enjoys his company. Sure, he has his family, but nothing compares to the presence of a significant other. He loves movie nights with the two of you, even better if they involve weed or alcohol.

𝕭𝖆𝖇𝖞 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖑𝖞

Giving

Spending quality time with you is one of her favorite ways to show her affection. It's up to you what the two of you are doing. Baby's down for doing each other's makeup, she's also down for robbing a bank. You have a lot of options.

Receiving

Baby loooooves getting gifts. It doesn't matter how expensive or big they are. Anything you decide to give to her is being cherished. Be it a lipstick you bought or a drawing of her, Baby will never forget it. Gifts make her feel so wanted, so spoiled.

𝕵𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖋

Giving

Josef is very, very good with words, especially words of affirmation. It's kind of ironic, given how awkward he can be.

But really, he's praise as a person. Josef loves to compliment and worship you. No matter what you did, he has to make sure you know how much he adores and cherishes you and how wonderful you are.

Receiving

As seen in Creep 2, Josef needs someone to spend quality time with. Doesn't matter if you're going for a walk or just enjoying a bath together (we all know what scene I'm talking about), just being around you makes him happy.

Nevertheless, we also see him being extremely touch-starved. Josef is aching for some physical touch, and if you give it to him, he'll cherish the ground you walk on.

𝕵𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖁𝖔𝖔𝖗𝖍𝖊𝖊𝖘

Giving

Jason is always proud to say he's a providing type of man. Acts of service are such an easy way for him to show his love. He hunts for the two of you, he cooks, he renovates, Jason is all about making your life as comfortable and easy-going as possible.

Receiving

Jason misses words of affirmation. Just tell him how strong and attractive he is, and the boy is blushing redder than anything you've ever seen before. Praise about his work (as in his cooking or certain fixes he made) make him swell with pride as well. He adores how tender your voice is when you talk with him.

𝕬𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖆 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖌

Giving

In Amanda's eyes, making sure you're safe is her number one priority. She protects you, she gives you a comfortable life, free of any worries she could possibly get rid of. Her acts of service often contain getting rid of any evidence that traces you to her, but she loves the satisfaction of knowing that you're looked after.

Receiving

Amanda misses the simple sensation of having dinner with someone she loves, or watching a movie cuddled together. Spending quality time is very, very important to her, and she often neglects tasks she got from John, simply because she misses your company.

Our Minds Entwined-----------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10

MDNI----------------------------------------------------------------

pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid

summary: in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest, brightest member

warnings: implied smut, evelyn annoying the fuck out of hotch pt 2

Chapter Nine:

The morning light filtered in Evelyn's bedroom, casting a lazy glow across the room as Spencer's kiss melted into Evelyn's lips. She stretched languidly across the bed, the soft fabric of her lounge set--a cozy ensemble chosen for the day's travels--wrinkling beneath her. The scent of mint lingered in the air, a fresh reminder of her morning routine now complete. Spencer stood, the sheets sifting, his departure slow and reluctant.

"You're not leaving me already, are you?" Evelyn's words were a playful whimper, her eyelids fluttering open to reveal a hint of feigned distress. Her hand lazily patted the empty space beside her as if to say there was no good reason for him to get up just yet.

"I'm going to engage in a necessary biological process commonly referred to as 'using the restroom'," Spencer said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. "You're very needy in the morning,"

"'M not," Evelyn protested with a drawn-out whine, but she puckered her lips in a pout that begged contradiction, her hands pulling on his sleeve. "Round two?"

Spencer's laughter was a soft rumble, his lips grazing the delicate spot beneath her chin, causing a ripple of giggles to escape her. "Tempting as it is, I should get out of here before Hotch shows up. I'm not sure 'we were just analyzing sleep patterns' would fly as an excuse."

"Yeah, I doubt he'd buy that."

As the bathroom door closed behind Spencer, Evelyn sank back into the pillows. Casual was a term she had never associated with sex before--yet here she was in a no-strings attached arrangement. The simplicity of it all was good and so was the sex--god the sex was good. Evelyn never knew it was possible to want to have it all the time, yet here she was feeling like she could jump his bones at every minute of the day.

Spencer re-entered the room, his eyes sweeping over the space with an inquisitive glint. The room was a reflection of Evelyn herself--unapologetically girly, with walls adorned with soft pastel shades and shelves lined with an array of romance novels. He paused at the collection, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Evelyn shot him a look, her arms crossing defensively. "Listen, not everyone finds the dictionary to be a page-turner."

"I didn't say anything," Spencer replied, his hands raised in surrender, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

"You didn't have to," Evelyn retorted, "I could hear you thinking it."

Spencer's fingers grazed the spine of particularly worn novel. "May I?"

"Hands off, pretty boy!" Evelyn's protest was cut short as she bounded from the bed, trying to intercept Spencer's reach for the book.

Spencer's chuckles echoed in the room, the book just out of Evelyn's reach as she hopped in vain. With a quick, fluid motion, he captured her wrists with one hand, and with a gentle firmness, her pressed her against the wall. She stood on her tiptoes, the top of her head barely reaching his chin.

"Spencer Reid, if you don't put that book down this instant, I'll--" Evelyn demanded.

"Patience," he replied, the pages flipping rapidly under his gaze. "I'm conducting research."

"Research, huh? In that case let me assist," she trailed off, her hands catching the hem of his shirt, coaxing him back to the bed.

With a laugh, Spencer closed the book. "Evelyn, Hotch will be here any minute. Are you even packed?"

"Of course, I am," she replied, "I'm just gonna miss our nights together while I'm gone, Dr. Reid."

"I'll miss you too," Reid admitted. "Did you know that the heart doesn't actually 'miss' in a literal sense? It's a brain colloquialism for the activation of the brain's reward system, particularly the anterior cingulate cortex and insula, which respond to emotional stimuli..."

Spencer's lecture on the heart was cut short by a sudden, firm knock on the door. Evelyn's eyes widened as she darted a glance through the window, spotting the familiar black SUV outside.

"It's Hotch," she hissed, a note of urgency in her voice. "Please tell me you parked in the garage."

"I did," Spencer assured her, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Okay you stay here," Evelyn directed, her gaze flickering from Spencer to the door as she snatched up her suitcase. "Make sure you wait until we're gone to leave, mkay?"

"Yes, ma'am," Spencer replied, a soft chuckle in his voice, punctuating his words with a gentle tap on her ass as she made her way out.

Evelyn moved to the door with a fluid grace, pulling it open to find Hotch in an uncharacteristically casual stance. He was dressed down for the flight in a soft, gray henley that accentuated his build, paired with jeans that were a far cry from his usual suits. She found the sight disarmingly attractive. Hotch, in turn, was struck by how Evelyn's casual outfit clung just right, only seeming to enhance her natural elegance.

"Morning, sunshine," she chimed, her smile sharp and gleaming as she tore her gaze from his body.

Hotch's gaze fell to the overstuffed suitcase at her feet, one brow arching higher than the other. "Planning to move in, or is that all for three days?"

"Oh, Hotch, you wouldn't last a day with me as a roommate. I'm a handful and then some," Evelyn teased. "And this," she gestured to herself, "takes a suitcase full of effort. It's not sorcery, but it's close."

Hotch watched her with a measured gaze, finding himself momentarily lost in thought. Inwardly, he doubted the necessity of her suitcase's contents. She hardly needed meticulous preparation to look the way she did. It was a thought, he chastised himself for having, he was her boss, and such considerations were definitely beyond the scope of the role.

Evelyn made a move for the suitcase, but Hotch was already one step ahead, effortlessly hoisting the luggage before she could. Side by side, they walked to the car, their footsteps in quiet accord. With a swift motion, Hotch stowed the luggage in the car, and they both climbed into the car.

Evelyn settled in and her gaze fell to a coffee cup awaiting her. "Hotch, is that for me?"

Hotch started the engine, feigning indifference. "Let's just say I prefer my mornings peaceful, and a caffeine-deprived Evelyn is anything but."

She grinned, noting the vanilla scent wafting from the cup. "And you got my favorite?"

"I make it a point to remember the important details--unlike like someone."

"You know, I had a feeling you'd bring that up," Evelyn said with a roll of her eyes. "A girl's entitled to one coffee mishap, isn't she?"

The early morning drive to the airport was a quiet affair, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional melody that Evelyn couldn't resist singing along to. It seemed that every song on the radio was her 'favorite,' and she serenaded Hotch with a gusto that was inversely proportional to her musical accuracy. Hotch's expression might have read as mildly pained, but in truth, he found her off-key notes unexpectedly charming.

Evelyn navigated the narrow plane aisle with a practiced grace, sliding into the middle seat. On the window side, Hotch had already claimed his spot, his gaze fixed on the world outside. The aisle seat remained vacant but not for long. A man, older and with a certain disheveled charm that bordered on sleazy, soon occupied it.

His suit was a tad too shiny, the kind that tried too hard to impress, and his hair was slicked back in way that seemed to defy both age and gravity. Evelyn, ever the person she was, didn't seem to mind as she offered him a polite smile, the kind that was courteous yet distant. The man returned the gesture, revealing a gold tooth that glinted in the cabin light.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" the man started, "I must say, you make our cramped quarters seem rather pleasant."

Evelyn flashed a polite smile. "That's very kind."

Hotch sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the exchanged with an intensity that betrayed his calm exterior. His protective instincts were fully engaged, a subtle tension visible only in the slight clench in his jaw. He watched as Evelyn navigated half the flight with her usual poise, responding to the main's veiled advances with nothing more than polite nods and neutral smiles.

Oblivious to any underlying intentions, she carried on with an air of kindness, her attention occasionally drifting to the window. Hotch, ever watchful, noted the subtle cues--the way the main leaned in, the too-warm chuckles, the searching glances. Yet, Evelyn seemed unaware.

"Your choice of material is quite... enlightening," the man remarked, his knee brushing against Evelyn's for the umpteenth time.

"Oh this?" Evelyn remarked casually, holding up the romance book. "Just a little light reading for the flight."

The man chuckled, his tone dripping with innuendo. "Careful, those can set quite the mood. Might be more than you bargained for."

Confusion flickered across Evelyn's features, failing to grasp the full intent behind the man's comment. Hotch, however, was all too aware, his patience wearing thin with each 'accidental' contact between the man's knee and Evelyn's.

In a moment of quiet resolve, he leaned towards her, his voice a soft murmur meant only for her ears. "You said you prefer the window seat, correct?"

Evelyn's eyes widened, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile of genuine surprise. "Are you offering it to me?"

He confirmed with a simple nod, his eyes holding hers with a gentle firmness.

She lowered her voice, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "You're just full of surprises today, aren't you? I better start taking notes; the team's never going to believe this."

Evelyn stood up, her movements betraying a slight reluctance as she moved to switch seats. Meanwhile, Hotch stood from his seat, his stature filling up the limited space between them. As Evelyn edged by, the proximity caught her off guard, sending a surge of warmth through her, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

"Oh, sorry," she breathed out, barely audible, as a wave of crimson flooded her cheeks, her mind chastising her for the clumsy encounter.

Hotch offered a silent nod, his own heartbeat imperceptibly faster.

Time stretched on and as the drone of the engines filled the cabin, Evelyn rose yet again, her movements fluid yet mindful in the confined space. The narrow space forced Evelyn to turn her back as she edged by, her focus solely on the beckoning call of the restroom. Hotch, his composure momentarily slipping, masked his distraction with a cough that sounded almost strained against the quiet chatter.

Hotch was a man of control, yet as Evelyn moved past him, her presence was undeniable and quite literally right at eye level just like her ass. The fabric of her attire accentuating her every move, leaving an imprint on his watchful eyes that lingered longer than necessary. Hotch's gaze followed her every move, tracking her discreetly until she merged with the aisle.

The man beside Hotch, leaned in closer than necessary. "Quite the view, huh?" he commented in a hushed tone, a sleazy grin spreading across his features.

Hotch's expression hardened, his jaw setting a firm line. Facing the man, his eyes were steely, his voice a low rumble of warning, "I'd suggest you keep your observations to yourself. It's a long flight, and I'd hate for it to become any longer for you."

The remainder of the flight passed without incident, the earlier tension dissolving into the cabin's recycled air. Evelyn, none the wiser to the exchange between Hotch and the man, mused to herself about the sudden peace.

As they disembarked in Miami, Evelyn and Hotch were greeted by the warm air that wrapped around them like a welcoming shawl. The hotel loomed around them, a sprawling resort nestled amidst lush gardens and shimmering waters.

"Hotch, look at this place! I think the Bureau's expense department got their wires crossed," Evelyn gushed as they entered the lobby, where her attention was swiftly stolen by the sight of the pool through the floor-to-ceiling windows. "I half expect to see a celebrity or two lounging by that pool. Speaking of which, how strict do you think they are about conference attendees taking a 'research break' in the water? Asking for a friend, of course."

"Evelyn," he began, "what you do in your free time is at your discretion. However," he continued, his gaze locking onto hers, "we have a dinner engagement this evening with some key figures from the conference. It's an informal setting, but impressions matter. I trust you'll bring your usual insight and professionalism to the table."

"Professionalism? Oh, you've got it, boss man. I'll be the picture of professionalism--so much so, they might just mistake me for you," she teased, her grin suggesting she was only half-joking. "As long as you keep me on the guest list for these conferences."

Hotch's gaze lingered on Evelyn for a moment, a silent warning conveyed in the briefest of looks. "I need to meet with some representatives from the BSU," he said, "Here's your room key," he added, handing her a small envelope with a practiced hand. "Remember, 'be good' isn't just a suggestion, it's an expectation."

"Oh, Hotch, when have I ever been anything but good?" Evelyn asked, batting her lashes with an exaggerated innocence.

Hotch offered nothing but a deadpan look in response to Evelyn's words, the unamused mask firmly in place as he turned and walked away with measured steps.

Evelyn's delight was unmistakable as she made it to her room. The space was more than nice--it felt luxurious. From the plush bed to the breathtaking view that beckoned from the window. But the room couldn't contain her restless energy for long. She swiftly changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and tank top.

Evelyn's casual stroll through the hotel brought her to a halt outside a bustling conference room where Hotch stood, surrounded by a circle of professionals. One woman in particular caught her eye--a vibrant figure with a small tattoo adorning her exposed shoulder, her proximity to Hotch just shy of intimate. Her laughter rang out, a decibel too high, piercing the hum of conversation. The sound seemed to echo in Evelyn's ears, stirring an unfamiliar jealously as she watched, a sense of possessiveness she hadn't anticipated washing over her.

"What am I doing?" Evelyn questioned herself, a frown marring her usually carefree expression. She shook her head, trying to scatter the unexpected feeling that clouded her thoughts. She was already with one coworker. With one last look at Hotch and the woman, she turned, her footsteps echoing through the hall.

The evening had settled over the resort, casting a soft glow of the evening lights. In her room, Evelyn stood before the mirror, draped in a black dress that embraced her form with an almost immoral familiarity. The neckline offered a glimpse of the swell of her breasts that made her second-guess the appropriateness for dinner. She pondered if the dress crossed the line from chic to scandalous, especially since Hotch had left the dress code to her imagination.

As she reached for her lipstick, a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of Hotch. His dark suit was crisp, the lines clean and authoritative, setting off the steely look in his eyes. For a fleeting second, Evelyn found herself at a loss for words, her usual quick-witted banter deserting her. She marveled at the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his gaze.

She blinked, a rush of warmth flooding her cheeks as she took a moment to appreciate the man before her. Regaining her composure, she greeted him. "Well, if it isn't Agent Hotchner, looking sharp enough to cut through red tape."

His eyes softened as his gaze dragged up her figure. It was rare when words, typically his steadfast ally, seemed insufficient. Clearing his throat, he allowed a genuine smile to touch his lips. "Evelyn, you look beautiful."

The unexpected warmth in Hotch's voice sent a flutter through Evelyn's stomach. A blush crept up her cheeks as she stammered. "Oh--uh, thank you, hotch," she managed, her voice a notch higher than usual. She stepped aside, gesturing him in. "Just give me one sec, I need to... uh, apply my lipstick," she said, her hands fumbling for the cosmetic.

As Evelyn carefully twisted the tube of lipstick, she began to speak. "So, who exactly is going to be at this dinner...?" She trailed off, focusing on the precision of the crimson shade as it glided over her lips, forming an 'o' shape. "And the seating arrangements, I hope they're not too formal. It's always so awkward to make conversation when--"

Hotch found himself unexpectedly transfixed, leaning casually against the doorframe yet entirely absorbed by the scene before him. Evelyn's lips, parting and pressing as she spoke, were all he could see. She was speaking--something about the dinner, the guests--but the words seemed to drift away. All of it was drowned out by the delicate precision with which she painted her lips, the occasional catch of her teeth against the plush red, the way he could imagine those same lips wrapped around his cock. The mundane task, one he had never given much thought to before, suddenly seemed the most fascinating thing in the world.

Evelyn caught the distant look in Hotch's eyes and paused, her lipstick hovering mid-air. "Hotch?" she probed, a note of curiosity in her voice.

He snapped back to the present with a slight start. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sounds great," he mumbled, almost as if on autopilot.

Evelyn eyed him quizzically for a moment but then shrugged it off with a smile. "Well, I'm all set," she said, slipping her lipstick into her purse. "Shall we?"

The restaurant was a cocoon of warmth and subtle elegance, its walls adorned with tasteful art and tables set with crystal and fine china that caught the glimmers of the chandeliers overhead. As Evelyn and Hotch made their way through the hushed conversations and the soft clinking of cutlery, she felt a flutter of anticipation mixed with the slightest edge of nerves.

As Evelyn neared the table, a sharp pang of recognition coursed through her--the woman from before was there. The woman who had flirted with Hotch, her casual elegance now a sharp thorn in Evelyn's side. The closer they got to the table, the more Evelyn felt the bitter vine of jealously winding its way up, tightening around her voice. It made it all worse as she realized the same woman that was flirting with hotch was the infamous Lillian Lewis, best-selling author and behavioral analyst. She was a legend in their work.

Hotch, ever composed, acknowledged the table with a subtle nod. "Professor, gentlemen," he began, "this is Special Agent Evelyn Gideon."

The men at the table, both influential benefactors of the BAU, received her with a warmth that melted away some of her stiffness. "Agent Gideon, a pleasure," the man, Thomas Weller, remarked, his handshake warm and reassuring.

Dr. Reeves greeted her with a thoughtful nod and a smile. "Welcome, Evelyn. It's always good to see new faces in the field."

Evelyn mirrored their greetings, her smile unfurling effortlessly, softening the formality of the moment. Her voice turned to one of admiration as she tried to push aside the knot of discomfort in her stomach. Despite her confusing feelings to Hotch, game recognizes game. And Professor Lewis was one of the best.

"Professor Lewis, it's an honor. Your work on micro expressions has been a game-changer in high-stakes negotiations."

Professor Lewis gave a curt nod, her 'Thank you' slicing through the air, sharp and devoid of the earlier warmth. Her eyes, a steely grey, seemed to appraise Evelyn with a scholar's critical gaze, flickering over her with an air of polite disinterest.

As they took their places at the table, Hotch smoothly slid Evelyn's chair out for her. As she eased into it, she shot him a teasing smile. "Such attentiveness, Agent Hotchner. I wasn't kidding about taking notes, the team will need a full briefing when we get back."

Hotch leaned in, his breath a whisper against her ear. "Remember how I said being good wasn't a suggestion?"

The warmth of his breath left her momentarily dazed, a tingling sensation lingering where his words had landed. She shrugged softly at his words, shooting him a quick wink.

As the dinner conversation ebbed and flowed around them, Dr. Reeves leaned forward, drawn by the familiar ring of her last name. "So, your father is Jason Gideon?"

Evelyn affirmed with a modest tilt of her head. "The one and only."

With a scrutinizing look, Professor Lewis cut into the conversation, injecting dryly. "Must've been nice having that as your golden ticket."

The comment hung in the air, and Evelyn felt a momentary discomfort. She recovered quickly, though, with a light-hearted retort. "Well, it certainly wasn't a Wonka bar, but it did come with its own set challenges," she said, hoping to deflect the tension with humor.

Without missing a beat, Hotch offered a measured nod in Evelyn's direction. "Evelyn has earned her place on the team. Her record stands on its own."

Evelyn managed to navigate the rest of the dinner with grace, her laughter blending seamlessly into the restaurant's hum. It was easy for her to charm the benefactors just like Hotch assumed she would: the way she remembered personal details, the easy way she joked about the appetizers, or how she gracefully deflected any praise to her team, specifically her unit chief.

As the clinking of glasses subsided, Mr. Weller nudged Hotch with a knowing look. "The bureau's lucky to have someone like her," before shooting a wink to Evelyn, he added, "And hey, if you ever get tired of this guy, give me a ring, huh?"

As they prepared to leave, Hotch's hand found its way to the small of Evelyn's back, guiding her through the crowd. The warmth of touch sparked a cascade of tingles down her spine, and she couldn't help but press back against his palm, a subtle gesture not lost on the observant eyes of the professor.

"Did you hear that, Hotchner?" Evelyn teased as she pressed closer to him. "The bureau is lucky to have me."

Hotch's fingers gave a gentle squeeze on her back, his voice low and teasing. "I knew that would go to your head."

The hotel's quiet corridors echoed with the soft tread of their steps as Hotch accompanied Evelyn to her door. The distant hum of the air conditioning lent a subtle rhythm, while the floorboards yielded a soft protest against their weight.

Evelyn paused at her door, her palm grazing the cool metal of the doorknob. Her gaze flickered up to Hotch. "Guess I'm not high on Professor Blake's list, huh?"

A smile of quiet assurance played on Hotch's lips, his gaze steady. "I wouldn't quite put it that way," he murmured, his voice low. "That's just her way."

Evelyn exhaled a breath tinged with mock amusement, her gaze honing in with accusation. "Well, she sure seemed to have a different way with you earlier," she insinuated, her words just loud enough for him to catch.

"What was that?" Hotch asked, an eyebrow raised in silent invitation for her to elaborate.

"Nothing," Evelyn retorted with a swift dismissal.

Hotch shook his head, a silent chuckle in his throat.

He lingered, his eyes savoring her--the contours of her face, the curve of her beck, the line of her shoulders. Hotch found himself captivated, unable to divert his attention. As the hallway seemed to condense around them, Hotch found his gaze on the delicate bow of her lips, the color seeming to tempt him in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Evelyn," he finally managed.

"Goodnight, Hotch," she voiced evenly, her words smooth and controlled, a veil over the wild drumming of her heart.

With a final nod, Hotch turned and walked away. Evelyn retreated into her room, the door's click sealing her inside, its sound a faint punctuation in the quiet. She exhaled a deep, satisfied breath, a serene smile playing on her lips. She moved with a soft deliberateness, preparing for bed, her slow and purposeful movements discarding the dress.

She pulled out her pajamas, the fabric soft and familiar between her fingers. A shade of blush with tiny hearts, the material hugged her just right. Dimming the lights, she climbed into the plush bed, the sheets cool against her skin. 

next

taglist: @nonamevenus @aceofspades190

Batfam as catshifters pt 2

Part 1 (But you don't have to read if you don't want. Anyway I have more brainrot of this au so here ya go

Jason would be the type to hiss at people but also crave love and attention, especially from Bruce. He could argue all he wants but it’s clear as a day when he purposefully shifts and cuddles up to Bruce when he’s feeling neglected.

Every single one of the kids has napped on Bruce’s lap when he was in an important league meeting (once the secret was out ofc) and they made it into a game to see how many times they can get him to crack that stony expression. 

Cass is leading the scoreboard with a whooping 30 times while Tim is dead last with a mere 8. Tim insists that he doesn't care but they all see the droopy cat ears.

Stephanie is absolutely in love with that red light, she’ll spend hours trying to catch the red light on the wall. If the walls have any scratches, you didn’t see them and moved on.

Alfred had absolutely raised hell because of it so everyone that was in cat form was forced into the cat room. 

In the room that’s for their cat forms where there are many toys and obstacles for them at their leisure. Every 6 months Bruce takes it down and gets a new and harder one (bc they keep complaining about how “easy” it was and that they needed an “actual challenge”, the old ones he donates)

Everyone always uses Bruce’s bed for cat naps and cuddles because it has so much space and everything’s just soft. Plus, there is a warm human they can cuddle up next to, who wouldn’t want that?!

Damian loved being in cat form to hang out with Alfred, the cat. Animals were his best friends so it was great to understand them on a deeper level. He loves sitting on Batcow and just existing with her.

Dick loves to be spoiled by Bruce so that he could maintain his self-proclaimed position as Bruce’s favorite. Belly rubs, scratches behind the ears, the whole nine.

Tim often “runs away” from home when his family is being too much of a family. He doesn’t hate it but he isn’t used to attentive families. 

When that first happened during his Robin era, Bruce went on a whole manhunt for this kid, his mind kept wandering to broken bones and smoke. 

Once Tim was found, he was hiding on a rooftop (these bats and their rooftop, I swear) he was given a stern talking too and a heart-to-heart. Afterward, he was allowed to go on breaks, but give head-ups and check in every so often.

There are protocols if they happen to shift during patrol or a fight. First, a smoke bomb goes off and covers the entire area in a thick layer of smoke. Every team is notified and those who are closest come to get the person out of there and then they deal with whatever was going on prior.

The cat shifter then goes to one of the many designated rooftops to be collected or they just go home by themselves. Even with this detailed plan, there have been many, many close calls.

Like that one time Condiment King almost got Duke in his cat form if Cass hadn’t come in the literal nick of time or when Damian got transformed while fighting Killer Croc.

The kids like to follow Alfred around while in cat form so that he can “accidentally” drop whatever dinner their eating for that night, and “Oh now, it’s on the floor, we eat can’t this piece of fish for dinner but-” and it’s already being eaten by Dick. Jason was hot on his trail too but Dick’s agility had given him an edge. This leads to Alfred “dropping” another piece on the ground for Jason to eat.

Bruce comes in with a raised eyebrow but no one offers an explanation for his unanswered question and he doesn’t mention it.

Hi dad. I got an angsty one for ya.

How would the slashers (anyone you wanna write for, as many or few as you want) react to a reader who they've kinda fallen for and acts comfortable around them, but is really just putting up an act to stay alive? maybe the reader could fall for them, but they're scared out of their mind and Stockholm syndrome isn't happening. 😈😈😈

Trigger of love

Headcanons

☆STARRING☆

☆Brahms Heelshire☆

☆Michael Audrey Myers☆

☆ Jason Voorhees ☆

☆ Jesse Cromeans ☆

Tw: major character death, description of injuries and bones breaking, canon violence, mature language, toxic relationships, mentions of blood, description of mental illness

A/n: THIS IS THE JUICIEST TASTIEST ANGST REQUEST EVER BRO. so happy to finally have the opportunity to write it, even tho it has taken me ages but I'VE DONE FINALLY. That's my shit right here, really tragic stories with really tragic endings and never ending dramas ANYWAY ENJOY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE:

I genuinely think brahms would end up killing you

LET ME EXPLAIN OKAY? DON'T COME AT ME

he wouldn't do it on purpose, it would be something accidental. Your behaviour would bring out the worst tantrum ever in history 

Not your fault bro I know but it is what it is

The fact is that everytime brahms does something bad it has some sort "justification"

Like Idk if it makes sense but take greta for example

He did all those things at the beginning cause she was breaking the rules, and he killed Cole cause he was hurting her 

You're not doing anything wrong but at the same time he's hypersensitive to people's behaviour so he knows you're not really doing it because you love him but more because you fear him

It's like living with his parents and even tho there's some sort of comfort in it because it's all he knows, he still wants to feel truly loved 

You don't try to escape but don't let the Stockholm syndrome kick in either and you don't even give a chance to actually believe he's not going to hurt you

Which again, not your fault cause his tantrums are enough on their own to make someone shit themselves, and he knows it 

We love a self-aware king

So he finds himself in this shitty in between where he can't say he doesn't has what he wants but neither that he's happy

For once in his life, having his own selfish need of you staying ecc it's not enough and he wishes for you to be happy as well

You do everything and beyond to keep him happy 

Never once broke a rule, never once tried to get away, never said no to giving him affection or anything he asks for

You have even taken care of him when he was sad ecc

But he can still see it in your eyes how scare you are of him

You flinch away everytime he just as much as lifts his hand, you always tremble slightly around him, your eyes has never stopped being glossy 

The only time he sees any other emotion in you besides fear is when you're alone and he's not really sure how much better that is cause you look so defeated and sad and overall depressed 

Needless to say the guilt is eating him alive, to know he's the one who has ruined you like that will never leave him a moment of peace 

It's literally driving him crazy

At first he was like 'yeah whatever, fuck you. You'll stay anyway and I'm not going to say sorry' 

Oh boy if he did regretted it

Once again, he feels like he felt while living with his parents all over again and after a while he develops this fear of you killing yourself like they did

My man here is collecting trauma like pokemon cards 

He tries everything like everything for real

He becomes more patient, he tries to take care of you instead of making you take care of him, he treats you like you could break if he's not careful enough

At this point my boy doesn't even fuckin wants you to be in love or for you to get the Stockholm syndrome, he just wants to show you he's sorry and that he has learned his lesson 

It's like living in some sort of loop from hell where he can't fucking make it right even if he really wants to

He has even stopped spying you and invading your privacy without you having to ask for it

Has even considered to let you go but he has found out about this underlying fear of someone telling the police everything and making him end up in a much worse situation than being a prisoner in his own house 

Funnily enough his insecurities about his face ecc are subsided by how much of a monster he feels on the inside

Like you have made very clear you're simply scared of him as a person, not because of his face.

And that's something he will never be able to get over 

After countless months of trying and being in his best behaviour he just kind of snaps 

You haven't seen him all day and you didn't felt observed either which made a very appreciated break from your hypervigilanting and stressing routine 

Just when you thought everything was calm and you decided to head up to go to bed, there he was waiting for you at the top of the stairs 

He seemed calm but you could seem the slight trembling of his body, one you recognise from numerous fits of rage he had in the past

He didn't straight up started to yell but you sensed there were like wrong and right answers to each question he was making 

He kept asking you if you loved him truly, if you were happy or if you wanted to leave 

To everything you always answered what he wanted to hear even tho the feeling that you were saying the wrong thing was only growing more and more

'You're scared of me, aren't you? You'll never want to be here'

At this point he knows you're lying and for a second something seems to switch in you

He has stopped wearing the mask around you so now you can freely see how pained he actually looks

You have never noticed before how tired he looks too

You have spent so much time being scared of him that now that you see it and you like really look at him you can see how defeated and miserable he has been

There's no trace of pretending or lying or trying to manipulate you in any way 

Now you're still scared but not as much and for once you actually decide on your own to try and help him 

You can't stand to look at him crying like that, it looks like he's going to die from a heartbreak anytime soon 

You start to go towards him with your hands up forwards so he knows you mean no harm

It's really like trying to get a stray animal to trust you

He has his hands covering his face and you can see how violent are the sobs, you actually take a minute to let yourself be amazed by the fact that even with such a hard and brutal crying he's able to conceal the noise 

He's used to do it since he was a kid and it shouldn't surprise you that much but in some way it does 

When you finally reach for him that's when he pushes you away screaming

Which scares the shit out of you and makes you lose your balance

It's a cliché but he swears it all happened so fast but at the same time so slow

He saw how you made yourself trip backwards and your face contorted in panic as you felt the void behind you, realising you were about to fall down the stairs

He tried to grab you but you were trying to hold on the rail so you just completely missed his hand 

You basically flew down the really long staircase and all he could do was watch 

He had that paralysing feeling of guilt and fear clawing at his guts as he watched you fall 

But when he heard the disgusting sound of your neck basically snapping against the hardwood floor, that's when he really felt sick 

He almost wanted to run away and pretend nothing has happened cause in his mind, if he got near you now that would make you dead for real

For now as he watches from afar you could still be alive 

BTW baby bro here is not stupid and I'm not talking basic level of knowledge nono

I'm talking he has studied and read about a lot of stuff including books about medical things like injuries ecc 

Basically he's like really smart 

That being said, and I know you know where I'm going with this 

From the moment you fell he knew you wouldn't survive.

Either that or you would end up disabled 

He knows too that when you snap your neck you don't die on the spot but you feel a ridiculous amount of pain until the injure does its course of action

That's yet another thing he feels guilty about your death

He should've put you out of your pain at least but he didn't, he just stared at you while shaking and crying silently 

He didn't even dared to move in case some invisibile and unnoticed force of the universe would notice what he has done and decided to punish him for it

Which thinking about he felt like he was already being punished 

It's kind of sad cause he didn't actually meant it, it was truly an accident but he will always blame himself for it as if he was the one actively pushing you 

Now he knows that no matter what he does or how much he changes he's always destined to be the cause of the death of the people he loves. 

Which he should've seen coming since not even his parents could bear his existence 

MICHAEL MYERS:

Tbh he's not that shocked about it

I mean bro at least acknowledges the fact that he is the fucking boogeyman and everyone will always find him scary

He doesn't even tries to excuse himself because he knows he kills and he's a overall unhinged man and that's something a normal person will never get over 

What bothers him is the acting nice 

When you both met, you really didn't knew who he was

He happened to have been badly injured and was like bleeding the fuck out on your backyard 

yes, you basically just took him inside as if he was some sort of stinky and pitiful ugly cat

That and the fact that you're taking care of him stirred him away from the idea of killing you

No shame in being oblivious to the most juicy gossip in town but bro was really just waiting for you to recognise him

When you did, and you started to act all nice and scared ecc he has to admit he took advantage of it

He knew how to scare you into never running away and never snitching him to the police so he could use you for food ecc

At some point he was impressed by how well you're able to keep up with this 

No lashing out, no crying and you have never broke down 

He could tell tho that you have never been this stressed 

Your hands are always trembling, you don't sleep well at night so you're getting clumsier by the minute 

When you drop stuff, burn food ecc he doesn't mind much but as time goes by it's hard for him to not get attached to you

Which it frustrates him cause he it makes him even more aware of how you see him

He has come to know you by invading your privacy a little bit

He had to since you were not exactly open to let him get to know you

The more he finds the more he likes you

And the more he likes the more he realise he has basically killed you from the inside 

It's hard to think all of those things he has found out are about you cause now you look more like a shell of what you used to be

And he definitely feels the guilt of being responsible of you losing your spirit

You're the first person he really cares about and loves like really truly loves

But that goes against everything he is now cause he can't possibly choose between be with you or killing

He starts to dwell on the past too much and the more he thinks about it the more he gets mad about the situation 

Before you he has never really care too much about the injustices he has suffered 

As a matter of fact he has never really grasped the fact that so many people have failed him and that's why he will never have a normal life

There was a time where he kind of did but that was long ago when he was just a kid 

At some point he just accepted what everyone said he was, that he's only purpose and role in life was to be a monster to everyone

Whether he wanted to or not it wasn't really important 

No one would help him nor he could make people change their minds

Besides, his reasoning is that if so many people is saying it then it must be true

And in his own selfish way he thought that the only one who got the consequences of it was him and the idiots who happened to be killed by him

Now that he sees the result of what everyone and himself has done with him on you he just feels sick

He finds himself spending hours observing you and daydreaming about how a normal version of him would've lived a normal life with you

He tries really hard to show you he can be gentle 

Spends hours observing other couples and what normal people do with their loved ones to understand better how he should act in order to get closer to you

It's so frustrating for him cause he literally doesn't has a choice anymore and he sees in you everything that's wrong with him that he can't change

He feels for the first time as broken as he really is 

At some point he wishes you could just drop the act of being nice, treat him like trash so he can tell to himself you're like everyone else therefore he doesn't need you 

But even if you were to do that he knows he would never be able to kill you

Everytime you touch him even if it's by mistake he gets a bubbly feeling of hope inside that maybe you're starting to see him as something different than what he is 

But then he looks at your eyes and he sees the same glossy and sad scared stare looking right back at him

He knows there's like nothing else he can do and for the first time he just gives up 

He needs to like get used to not be able to see you so he starts with small steps

He starts to staying out for a couple of hours more than usual, then hours turn to days, days into weeks, weeks into months and months into a year 

Everytime he comes back and you see him he can immediately see the shift in your behaviour and how you lose all the already weak sparkle you have gathered from knowing he was far away from you

That's the worst part of it for him

He needs to see you, he wants to spend time with you and looks forward to see you for the last few times before going away fr 

But you on the other part seem to flourish when he's not around, to count the minutes and seconds until he's gone 

It kinda makes him feel like he felt when he was a kid and he wanted to see his parents 

The day he finally came back for the last time after a year you were asleep

He didn't even sit on the bed, nor did he woke you up or did anything that could steer you away from your sleep

He sat on the floor near your bed in complete silence 

He took off his mask knowing that you would never see him and he just stared at you

He wanted to look at you, take in every detail of your face to burn it in his brain so he would never forget you 

He just wanted to look at you not as the shape, but just as Michael. Even if just for one time he wanted to pretend he was just that and that you were being stared by a person and not a monster 

For once his difficulty in expressing his emotions was useful because if he were to let go of all the things he was experiencing he could swear he would just explode or melt away 

The only thing that came out of him was a tear, which he swiped away slowly before getting up and putting on the mask again

After that he never came back, obviously you were over the moon and he was just well going on with it 

He occasionally stalks you but after some time he stops cause it makes him feels sickeningly alone 

Here something to think about if you need to cry: sometimes he thinks back at when he was trying to get closer to you 

One of the things he wanted to do the most was holding hands but you always looked so scared when he tried to do that he just dropped it 

He understands how it might look to you that this tall ass bastard is trying to hold your hand 

That and the fact that he wasn't really good at being careful and gentle didn't help his cause 

So from time to time, when he thinks about it he stares at his hands 

You know when you like pretend to be holding someone's hand while holding yours? 

Well he does that and finds ironic the fact that he has learned to do it gently now that he will never be able to do it with you

JASON VOORHEES:

Listen, LISTEN

I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK, IM A JASON APOLOGIST FIRST AND A HUMAN SECOND

jason my beloved what are this foul gremlins making me do smh

He is one of the few slashers I genuinely think could change for you and try to make things better

Jason doesn't kills just for funsies 

He kills because his sense of duty and to protect himself and his home and all that jazz

I don't really think he genuinely wants anyone fearing him

If anything it's the opposite. He has been treated like a monster his whole life, no one has ever gave him the opportunity to be something else

Like why would he enjoy ending up being what everyone has always thought of him? Doesn't make any fucking sense mate

Like I said he has to, he genuinely thinks there's nothing else for him to do and there's no other place in the whole world for him

IM GONNA CRY BUT LIKE HE'S AT LEAST GRATEFUL OF HAVING A PURPOSE CAUSE HE GENUINELY THINKS HE'S SOME SORT OF SICK JOKE OR MISTAKE 

 So my Wild take of the day for which I'm ready to bet my own ass is that if he could he would very much appreciate to just be left alone and live a normal life, not bothering or harming anyone

The fact is that much more like so many other slashers he can't really communicate to tell you at least his reasons for being a murderer 

That's something that torments him daily, to know that in your eyes he's merciless and overall really evil

Assuming you survive being hunted down by him, he would do near to everything to show he's not a threat for you

You must have been someone who he didn't deem fair to kill 

Like you were respectful, you didn't seem to be a fucking moron messing around and ruining his home 

Once again, I'm gonna assume you just don't know about him and crystal lake ecc

cause otherwise for you to be there is pretty much a death wish from your part

That being said, if you don't know anything about him there's a good chance that the scariest part of Jason (sadly) it's his appearance and behaviour 

JASON BABE YOU'RE HUGE LIKE SCARY BIG, WHAT THE MCFUCK IS ONE SUPPOSED TO FEEL SEEING YOU CHARGING AT THEM LIKE A FUCKING GRIZZLY BEAR 

The whole being chased around like a fucking animal is not a vibe i guess 

LET ME BE DELUSIONAL ABOUT THE FACT THAT WITH ENOUGH TIME HE COULD BE QUITE NICE TO BE AROUND 

I won't let anyone ruin my mental image of him being a sweetheart once you know him

THAT MAN CAN'T BE THAT EVIL. YES, I CAN FIX HIM. IF YOU THINK YOU CAN'T THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM

Now, jason may be shy and a gentle giant but he's not stupid

He knows very well how you think of him and how does he looks like to anyone who sees him

He can see through your act, you can't fool him

He can see the same scared look in your eyes he used to see on other people's face when he was a kid

The only person who has always looked at him like he's just well a human being with feelings is his mother

And maybe it doesn't makes sense and It may be controversial but deep down jason appreciates the nice act 

Like he just can't bring himself to care anymore. At least someone is trying to be nice 

Keep in mind this man has known nothing from the world beside humiliation, pain and loneliness 

Idk if anyone ever thinks about it but it torments me a great deal the thought of Jason's miserable life

Being stripped away from your humanity, having to choose a path of violence to protect yourself, having to witness how they kill the only person in the whole universe that could ever love you 

That shit it's just not fair and even if he knows you're scared of him he sees it as the most caring and thoughtful anyone has ever been with him in a long time

Think about it, anyone who has ever seen him has either tried to kill him or has been incredibly cruel 

The fact that, even if out of fear and self-preservation, you try to still reach to his human side and treat him with respect at least it's already enough

I think he could be one of those slasher that could make you fall in love without falling for the Stockholm syndrome type of infatuation 

HE IS, OKAY? I WILL TAKE NO FUCKING CRITICISMS. YOU WILL GENUINELY FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM OR ELSE I'LL STEAL YOUR FUCKING PET

Jason would literally try everything to get you to feel less stressed around him

It breaks his heart to see your eyes glossy or your body shaking because of fear 

In the process he gets clumsier by the minute so at the in of the day you're both stressed 

He is because he's scaring you just by breathing and you bc obvious reasons

You can notice how different he acts tho and somehow, his efforts manage to go through your thick layer of fear 

You could swear he almost tries to make himself look as harmless and gentle as possible

You can see him trying to take as little space as he can or bringing you things that might cheer you up 

He cleans up from blood and gore before getting back home 

He even makes his cabin more homely for you so you feel more at home and less kidnapped 

And at some point it works 

That plus you somehow piecing together what has happened to him it's starting to make it easier for you to not relax but overall feel less terrified around him

He would spend so much time watching you from afar because he knows he will never get to know you or see you without fear 

The days where he can observe you without you noticing anything are his favourite. He gets to see a version of you more relaxed and natural

He would literally spend an eternity being far from you if it means you can feel better 

He would spend his free time improving the cabin and daydreaming about what it would be like to be liked by you

Not even like dating you because he feels it would be wrong for him to even think about it

Please for the love of God, try to be friendly with him

Having the opportunity to know him better is taking away some of the fear

You know very well it's not Stockholm syndrome cause it feels genuine

One day you take a good look at him while he's taking care of his flowers I'm the garden 

You observe every part of his rotting being and you can't exactly explain why but you feel your heart ache and your eyes glossy 

Not for you, but for him

It's almost like some sort of illumination comes to you and makes everything painfully clear

You have obviously noticed he's not alive cause we're stupid but not that much 

You take a really good look at his clothes and body, at his mask and everything you look at to get more details about him

Everything in his appearance screams hurt, wounded and mistreated. A whole life and a afterlife filled with getting hurt and abused by the world 

His bright blue eye has always a layer of sadness in it even when he's doing something that makes him happy

It hits you just now how little human he must feel. 

And that leads you to realise that he has not only changed so much just to please you but has distanced himself as if he's very own existence could be offensive to you

From that day you started with small steps like saying good morning or good night to him, keeping him company when he tended to his garden, trying to get closer to him even if that means just being in silence and standing next to him

That grows into "talking" with him, taking walks around the woods, spending evenings reading inside the cabin 

You insist in eating together, tending his wounds, mending his clothes and overall doing anything that could make him feel less like the shell of a human being 

At first he doesn't really get it but the more you do it the more he silently realises how much he craves those types of things. 

I personally think that with enough patience you both could build a good relationship and you could even talk him out of killing people and settle for just scaring them away

He's favourite thing to do is curling up next to you in bed, his head on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeats while you mindlessly caress his back while telling him about anything you want 

JESSE CROMEANS:

🎶DADDY LET ME KNOW THAT I'M YOUR ONLY GORL🎶

Some funzies before doing some emotional terrorism

Since you all want to be a menace with this requests I'm going to use post accident Jesse

To say this man is on the verge of tears every single day is an understatement

So long story short you were jesse s/o

He was like the love of your fucking life and you were his

His whole world goes around you, you're the only thing that makes him genuinely happy besides his work

You found out about the whole chromeskull thing in the worst way possible

He was scared of coming back after the accident with his face so he just kind of distanced himself

Everytime you would ask when he was coming home he always had an excuse

You both went a long time of just calling each other's, spending time on calls and sometimes even falling asleep with the phone still on

He missed you so much but he couldn't bear the thought of you looking at him like he was monster

It was killing him to know he was so close to you but couldn't reach you

You find out who he really was on accident

Cleaning around to distract yourself you ended up gathering many things that needed to be put in the attic so that you did

Once you were there you found some tapes. You checked them out of curiosity and oh boy you regretted it

You felt so sick you almost threw up

All those girls, there were some many of them in each tape and each one of them different from the other

It was horrifying to watch the love of your life mercilessly torture and kill helpless and innocent people

Now everything made so much more sense and It actually made you feel even worse to know that this whole time, while you were talking with him, Jesse was killing people

What hurts the most is feeling like you've been played, like you were something he has used to entertain himself until he finds a new victim

Needless to say you didn't stayed in your shared apartment a day longer, you didn't even take with half of the things you own

Most of them were gifts Jesse bought you so bringing them with you was only going to make it worse

You were scared out of your mind. So scared that in fact you couldn't even find the courage to go to the police, afraid that maybe that would end up with your being another one of Jesse victims

Obviously no one told Jesse what was going on. They all collectively agreed their boss was dealing with enough shit to keep adding more

They all needed Jesse to focus on work

That didn't worked well cause as soon as you stopped answering the phone he decided enough was enough

He needed to check what was going on so he found the courage to overcome his insecurities and go find you

He was heartbroken when he found you left

He immediately thought that you just got tired of waiting for him, that he has drawn you away

Long story short he went after you to find you and try at the best of his abilities to explain everything and win you back

He did not see the coming all that panic and terror in your face when he knocked at your door

He did think it was bc of his face so he tried to calm you down and explain

Needless to say you didn't calm down and he being the man he is, just kind of kidnapped you

Now onto business here

He knows you have every right to feel like this but it still upsets him deeply to know that he will never get the chance of being with you like before

He thought that you being scared and acting crazy every time you saw him was the worst but now he is kind of rethinking it

You started acting like this after he "snapped" at you

You were panicking and screaming while he tried to tell you something, that lead to you taking his mask off accidently which ended up in him pushing you off too hard

After that things went really fucking downhills

It wasn't like you were still out of your mind but the look in your eyes is unbearable

The first time you started the whole acting nice thing he almost thought you were starting to at least tolerate him but then he saw it

It's the same look some of his victims had while trying to gain his trust, seeing it on you was the worst thing he has ever experienced

He just couldn't stand it anymore, his face, you hating him, his favourite victim who was the one that has damaged him so badly killed by that cunt of Preston and now this? Mate is done

He has tried everything and anything but now he just kind of gives up

You notice the shift in his behaviour, how he comes by just to bring your meals or things you may need, he doesn't even goes near you or talks and his eyes are always anywhere but on you

I gotta be real with you guys, I don't think there's like a way to make this up

HE'S HURT OKAY? BRO'S EMOTIONAL DAMAGE IS BIG AF

He would even start sending his assistant to take care of you so he doesn't has to face you at all

It's just painful cause he already feels like his life is ruined and everything is falling apart with him not being able to fix it

You know what? I'm gonna fix it cause I can't take it anymore

You have probably grown used to be basically trapped at home, it's not like you're suffering with god knows what kind of abuse cause you basically have all you need to distract yourself aside from going out

Jesse comes home very rarely and as much as you hate to admit it you have been feeling less and less scared of him

You still think what he does is horrible but the thing that bothers you it's him lying to you

You do have to admit you miss being with him. Not like when you were scared but like when you didn't knew and he was just Jesse

You wonder from time to time if he's angry at you for how you have reacted since he hasn't shown himself for quite sometimes

As if on clue you hear something break in the bathroom and what seems like someone crying

That would be another of Jesse's mental breakdowns about his face. He thinks he looks so bad he can't even bear the sight of himself in the mirror

You slowly try to approach the bathroom and putting your ear against the door, you try to hear what's going on

You have never heard Jesse crying nor making any sort of noises come out of his mouth so it's actually quite shocking to hear him sob so hard

When you open the door the scene breaks your heart and in that moment you don't see chromeskull or the homicides, you just see your Jesse, the same one you have always loved and that has always helped you when you were down, on his knees bawling his eyes out and shaking

You just do what comes naturally aka you get closer and you just hold him as tight as possible

He tries to hide away, panicking bc he doesn't want you to see what he has become, but you just keep hugging him and saying that it doesn't matter

The moment you hold his face on your hands and look at him with the same understanding gaze you used to have it's the moment he feels his heart beating right again

It's not gonna be easy to accept everything but at least you're coming around it and he makes sure you know how grateful he is for it everyday

freeman's mind notes part two, e6-e10.5. under cut, long. formatting is different this time. will carry on in this way.

e6

"safety's off" sir. Sir you've just said it was a Glock. You fool. You absolute buffoon.

"clip" IT IS A MAGAZINE

I cannot respect a man who watches Die Hard this much. I just can't.

love how he reacts to the houndeye teleporting in. Flat "No."

mimics houndeye noise :>

heard Gman movin around on the catwalk above

electricity doesn't do a ton to him this first go around but does hurt and seems to paralyze him for a moment. Muscles seizing and all that

rescinds his disdain for everyone who died. Admits it's a bit difficult to live under the circumstances

"white men in armoured hazmat suits can't jump" SIR

[underwater mumbling] sounds pretty damn frantic. Genuine fear of dying by his own hand. I'd wager he thinks he's the only one that could do it.

bounces back quickly!

just goes and shoves some words together. For fun!

dislikes the ammo being covered in blood. Considers leaving it behind because if that

impacts still hurt. High impact reactive armour this is Not

e7

simian instincts strike again

has seen star trek

"maybe i should've been a bug" well I can study you like one. How's that sound

Kafka's Metamorphosis mention! It's Gregor Samsa that actually turns into a bug though, so. May not have read it.

knows who Shiva is! Not sure of her origin but she does show up in ff7, which is within his range to know about

bullsquid acid tastes like dead caterpillar

yog'sothoth :>

held his mouth open in the canal. Dude.

mouth cancer...

hates puns.

Black Mesa gets money from the dept. of defense

slur count one

is this hl source? Do the crates sway in the ported version?

correctly figures out the useless crate pit room

hates elevator music

e8

audio inconsistent :(

bug murder D: I love bugs.

shouting and breaking stuff in grad school did not help him

says grody. Like a loser.

threatens a man's life again. Doesn't seem to mean it.

calms down easily enough by breakin things

wants to blow up the building. He won't know it but it will be. Your will be honored, sir

came home to a guy impaled on his window's insulated glass. Explained that to the police.

"kind of like glass in a way" fragile and lacking a smell? got it

"GYAHH" high pitched scream!

has been hit by many tasers over dates.

pepper spray is worse.

first instance of sonic damage (gun in air vent)

some guy named Jessie would electrocute himself on his bed and end up paralyzed for an hour for fun. Sounds fun tbh

Steve Irwin... Rest in peace and let's kill all sting rays now

does ask a cowering scientist if he's okay

somehow doesn't see the shotgun in plain sight waiting for him

doesn't always know when he's thinking out loud

e9

peppered steak just like OFF

visibly contemplates shooting a regular bug

actively admits he was considering cannibalism. I can get behind that. Cannibalism win.

"pew!!"

roleplays as a teacher who hits kids with crowbars

wants to be a medieval knight so bad

no vent sharks for us! fan blades instead

afraid of muppets

has whistled Twice now

has seen Jurassic Park.

wishes he could shoot electricity through his hands

has probably seen James Bond

already theorizing about Xens makeup

more bothered by a barnacles death coating him in blood and potentially jamming his gun than being choked

shot in the ear :>

whistles in time with the turret. Echolalia real

doesn't want to look gay. Too late. Even if we assume base Freeman model he does have a ponytail.

slur count two.

HEADCRAB SLAUGHTER PARTY

sounds like he likes coffee and doughnuts

e10

starts off with silly noises and repeating the word "coffee" on loop

Chainsaw noise with his mouth

jason vorhees wannabe

would love to spread bloodborne diseases via hug

has a collection that a human skull would fit right in with. Bones in general? Skulls in general? Human skulls? Doesn't matter, Eddie mention! As of him getting more skulls in cheap.

wants his funeral to be full of explosives and planes

he is not a gerbil.

feels he's only sure of his actions when killing things

watches Jackie Chan movies

and the Addams Family!

gman sighting.

thinks the guy diving through the window is cool. compares him to his own grandfather? neat!

unlike stark can do a pull-up in his suit

cannot break the vending machine glass. has change on him, though. Dorito time.

jayroy for the meme

who hogs the duvet

Jason, 100%. Listen. One of these men wears a leather jacket over kevlar, and the other one doesn't own anything with sleeves. Who do you think is always cold?

who texts/rings to check how their day is going

Roy, because he is a chatterbox and also needs a lot of validation.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts

Jason, because his love languages are all non-verbal gift-giving and caretaking. (THE WATCH COMIC. ;_; )

who gets up first in the morning

Roy, to get Lian ready for school.

who suggests new things in bed

ROY LOL. I don't think anyone expected a different answer here! Jason is eager but inexperienced, Roy has plans and schemes.

who cries at movies

Mostly neither of them, but there is a specific genre of sad children's movie (The Land Before Time, Lilo and Stitch, Dumbo) that will instantly reduce Roy to a weepy puddle. Lian's fine with them but he has to leave the room during "Baby Mine."

who gives unprompted massages

Honestly probably both of them? Not even for sexy reasons, they both just constantly need PT.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick

Absolutely Jason. See above re: caretaking being his love language (and like...rationally he knows that as a small child he could not have saved his mom from being "sick," but that instinctive panic and Need To Fix is never going to go away entirely).

who gets jealous easiest

Jason. He has very little that is his and he doesn't like to share it.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music

So I have this thing where I tend to associate characters with music either from around their debuts, or crucial moments in their history. To me, Roy's musical tastes skew towards the 60s and 70s, his early Titans/Snowbirds/Great Frog years - so a lot of classic rock, folk, soul, etc. Pretty universally recognized as "cool" music. (With some nostalgic love for 40s swing and blues, which he canonically listened to growing up with Ollie.)

Meanwhile I associate Jason with the early 80s, so like...early Michael Jackson and Madonna, "Total Eclipse of the Heart," the Flashdance soundtrack. I firmly believe that to this day he thinks "Open Arms" by Journey is the most romantic song ever recorded. He's right, but yeah, the answer here is Jason.

who collects something unusual

What's more unusual, ancient weapons or vintage books?

who takes the longest to get ready

I think they're both pretty quick! The vigilante lifestyle trained them well.

who is the most tidy and organised

Jason. He is a Bat (and not one of the ones who was used to servants), he is orderly.

who gets most excited about the holidays

Roy. Jason doesn't like to get excited about anything in case it's a trap.

who is the big spoon/little spoon

They switch off, but mostly Jason is the big spoon, because he likes to cling and Roy likes to be clung to.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports

Both of them, they're awful. The only reason no one has broken a bone is because Roy also thinks Jason's hot when he gets competitive so the game usually gets derailed by sex.

who starts the most arguments

Stupid arguments over nothing: Roy. Actual fights: Jason.

who suggests that they buy a pet

Lian. Frequently.

what couple traditions they have

Cleaning their gear after a mission. I'm serious.

what tv shows they watch together

Honestly, I watch so little TV that I am going to be terrible at answering this question for every pairing. I think they're more likely to put on something mindless and zone out when they get back from patrol at 3 am and need to decompress than anything where they need to follow a narrative. Probably cooking show reruns.

what other couple they hang out with

Kyle and Connor, when Kyle's on Earth. Yes, Jason and Kyle still hate each other. It's very entertaining.

how they spend time together as a couple

Raising Lian, fighting crime, Roy being ridiculous and Jason trying to pretend he's not charmed by it.

who made the first move

Roy made a very long series of incrementally tiny moves that Jason didn't notice. Jason made the one big move that actually got them together.

who brings flowers home

Roy, but it doesn't count because Dinah owns a florist shop and he got them for free.

who is the best cook

I think fandom has a pretty definitive answer for this one. ;)

WTNV Quick Rundown - Live Show - The Debate

One day, I'll actually get to attend one of these things. Until then, you and I can go through it like this together~ This show featured the guest voices of Kevin R. Free, Mark Gagliardi, Mark Evan Jackson, Jackson Publick, Hal Lublin, Annie Savage, and Mara Wilson.

We found a little piece of heaven here. It is black, smooth, oblong. It hums a soft but discordant note, and we are afraid to touch it. Welcome to Night Vale.

The Debate mention is, of course, the mayoral debate between candidates Hiram McDaniels (a literal five-headed dragon, wanted by the law for tax evasion) and the Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In All Of Our Homes (FOW).

As a surprise, we are also told that Marcus Vanston will be running for mayor. He's pretty much just a jerk this entire episode (lol) saying things like how he basically used to own a dragon as a slave and other rich boy stuff. Anyway he gets turned into an angel.

We are told that Pamela is 'not' being soul-bonded with someone and forced to step down.

In Night Vale, mayors are chosen by counting and interpreting the loud pulses coming out of Hidden Gorge, but Cecil says they're allowing citizens to hear what the candidates have to say anyway.

NV's recorded history apparently only goes back seven years.

Hiram's wishes to 'break ground' for those who do not identify as human. He says that having multiple heads makes him a better candidate because they are all good at different things. Green Head is good at maths, for example. He also reveals he has debilitating claustrophobia. Hiram also says that he'll be less invasive of people's privacy and less inclined to try and run their lives, as he doesn't understand humans so doesn't care to do so.

The FOW's (who has a name but will not share it) says she will be a good mayor because she has always been and always will be by the side of every citizens (she's also set fire to countless homes) and knows them intimately. She is quite passionate about children and learning and wants to sell off people's unused possessions in order to raise money to fund school programmes.

Weather: “Promise to the Moon” by Jason Webley

The FOW mentions citizens by the name of Mike Numminen, Claire Franklin (who hasn't yet told someone called Eva she loves her) and Felicia Jackson. There is also somebody called Roberta who works as sales staff at the station.

Cecil owns a whole set of collectible jadeite bowls he doesn't use. Hiram has a hoard of rare jewels and gold in a mahogany chest in his cave. Marcus has a coffee table made of human bones.

Angels, all called Erika with a K, call both to worry about the tiny city under Lane 5 and to call upon Marcus. They're not legally allowed to be recognised as existing, so the conversations as brief. They are afraid. They also say that angels do not hear gender.

Diane Crayton calls with questions about helping NV's schools, concerned about centipedes crawling out of teachers faces, clocks which don't work, gun violence and declining graduation rates.

John Peters (you know, the farmer?), calls about how the Glow Cloud has been disrupting his farming by dropping dead animals everywhere. However, the Glow Cloud (all hail) has too much of a psychic grip on the town for anyone to do anything.

"Hi, this is Steve Carlsberg? And, um, my question is for Hiram. Hiram, –" "NO!!! NO!!! STEVE CARLSBERG!?! WE ARE OUT OF TIME FOR QUESTIONS GOODBYE!!!" I am begging you to look up this up on youtube it's so funny.

There has been an alarming humming, attributing to a mass of deer with time-travelling abilities which have appeared in great numbers (often displacing people in time and space), but is in fact coming from a vortex not dissimilar to the one which opened during the Sandstorm.

Hiram investigates and brings Kevin of Desert Bluffs through with him, much to Cecil's shock and horror.

Kevin is finally told Cecil's name and the name of the town. He mentions again how he and Cecil are so similar, especially in the eyes and the smile. He states that the FOW actually has a face, with deep hazel eyes, proud lips and an archaic jaw. This deeply disturbs her as she has never had a face.

He states again that NV has old-fashioned technology and how 'places like this' are usually covered in blood and other such things, but hey guess they do things different in NV! He's very enthusiastic about NV and wishes his intern, Vanessa, could see as he'd always talked to her about visiting NV. He says she's funny and enthuses about her greatly, only to reveal that she died many years ago during an...incident...

'Oh, dear, I’m sorry, no. Vanessa died many years ago. We’re all still very upset about it. Very upset about what we saw. Some of us never came back to work again. Some of us never left our houses again. Most of us never woke up again. I don’t like to talk about it much.'

He says that Stexcorp is recalling the deer and will be carrying them away by helicopter, having planned to introduce them slowly to do people's math problems and earn them extra work hours by shifting them back through time, but they got carried away.

Kevin also says that anyone affected can contact Strexcorp attorney Luisa Reyes as she is filing a class action lawsuit against Strexcorp. He then says he has to go and that he thinks the towns are connected by more than a two-lane highway.

"You are beautiful when you do beautiful things." Another nice little popular quote.

Cecil is quite terrified of Kevin, describing him as having blood-stained skin, with missing eyes and teeth like an abandoned cemetery.

Stay tuned next for a chasm of subjectivity and bravado between yourself and every other human being. Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

older!Jason Todd feelings

apparently I’m having thoughts about my guy today. Who can blame me? 🥰 here's a thing about him & my OC, Jayn, when they're a little bit older...

to start, his FC is Peter Gadiot. (yep, let that sink in.)

ANYWAY--

he's 50-something. when he really thinks about it, he's surprised that he's made it this far. Like all the other vigilantes & Gotham-centric people (including his own partner), he's got his own collection of scars (& foraged Batarangs), but that's to be expected. The usual suspects (Jayn, the old ladies in their* neighborhood, the Bats who were still kicking, and the nighttime escorts) always compliment him on his looks, even if he doesn't think he looks all that special. The Pit has slowed his aging; aside from some deepened smile crinkles at the corner of his eyes and slightly darker skin, he hasn't physically changed in decades. Ah well--there is the bone spur that future asshole!Tim had clued him into (long since removed), the scruff he occasionally lets grow in, and the blue that's slowly returning to his eyes in place of some of the Lazarus-tinted green. He still has the nightmares, and some things (prolonged laughter, horror movies, being surrounded by intense cold) still bother him, but Harley's really helped over the years.

he and Jayn said they'd never get married. They agreed when they were maybe 27 that having an actual wedding would just jinx things. If either of them died too early, the other would resurrect them, and yet...they both preferred to stay on top uninterrupted for a while. So, they had a date night (and day) spent mostly outside Gotham, one which ended with them getting tattoos inspired by Pride and Prejudice: “My heart is and always will be yours,” for her, and "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” for him. Well, that, and then they put their gelato to-go in the fridge before they had a nice round of sleepy sex. Now they've got matching ring tattoos--those were from their 25th not-anniversary last year.

she eventually sets aside her duties as CFO of WayneTech to run the Martha Wayne Foundation. It keeps her busy in a good way. She and Jason publicly live in the Wayne Foundation penthouse, which is close to all the venues used for charity galas and not far from all the places where Jason teaches. Because he wants to help as many as he can, he rotates between being an adjunct at Gotham U, an adjunct at Hudson, a teacher at a big high school (it'd been poor before "the Waynes" donated to it), and an online tutor...all for English and Drama. Jayn limited him to 2 jobs per semester and forbade him from working at Gotham and Hudson simultaneously. Still, she loves listening to his stories about the kids he works with. And they love their teacher, who wears graphic tees and ankle boots with button-ups, and who sometimes brings his pet to class.

the Red Hood isn't seen as often as the other Gotham heroes. Some of them are younger, newer vigilantes who find it comparably easy to fit nightly patrols into their schedules. Sometimes he envies them, missing the feeling of wind combing through his hair as he zips through the sky, or the combination of adrenaline, satisfaction, and relief that comes with saving someone from a creep. Well, he still experiences that stuff, just not as much. First off, the Red Hood is a reserve guy--he only comes out when Frostbite does, which is if shit has officially hit the fan (ex. planetary invasion, No Man's Land Part 2, the regular teams are out of commission, etc.). Then out come the pistols and gear, none of which he's ever thrown away (assuming it still works). Otherwise, he has to stick to riding his motorcycle, sparring with those who know about his past, and going on the occasional international vacation.

they stopped suiting up for patrol a few months before the twins were born. The kids were the result of a few steamy, excited, condom-less nights (some of which also involved getting high). When Jayn got the positive, she and Jason debated all the reasons why they should or shouldn't be parents, including having weird upbringings, living in a dangerous world, and noticing a little gap in their lives that seemed to want kids. Freddie Arwen and Lydia Wayne-Todd looked nothing like each other apart from their light brown skin, but Jason thought his daughters were perfect the moment he saw them. They still are, even though Freddie keeps bleaching the life out of her pretty, dark brown hair and Lydia's cooking typically tastes like stale refried beans. Both left Gotham years ago, but they make sure to visit once a month.

yes, the clown is dead. Yes, Jason was there when they dissolved the body using lye and water. Yes, he was slightly salty, seeing as how it'd taken the Bats forever to kill the creep. In the end, it'd been Ghost-Maker, Bruce's weird (yet impressive, from a crimefighting POV) ex, who'd been in Gotham tracking some illegal shipment. Apparently, Khan had been a good boy, following Bruce's rules until he completed his mission. About a half hour later, Joker was found dead. There was an informal, 2-day celebration all across the city, one where everyone was kind to each other, like a reverse Purge. It would become a holiday, much to Bruce's chagrin. Oh, well.

when Jason turned 30, Alfred finally admitted to the Bats that he'd been part of some experimental Brit super-soldier program, one that had slightly increased his intellect, reflexes, and lifespan. Not many of them were surprised.

Random song lyrics (except not really because I’ve been listening to this song nonstop for three days):

I want the full effects, I wanna hit it hard

I wanna dance in the middle of a gay bar

Ooh oh oh, that's what I want

There's nothing wrong with what I want

Yeah, yeah

“What I want” by Muna

So, it was decided and necessary and important for Jason to understand: he owed Skull a thank you and one hell of an apology. The looks he'd been getting from Billy ever since he heard his friend out on why, exactly, he'd punched Skull when the boy had gotten him alone during a school event and told him to take his mother to get checked out; those looks were like the Grim Reaper pointing a finger at him.

* A simple introduction after the punk bumping into the Scott matriarch shouldn't have been cause for concern. Shouldn't have made Skull hesitate after shaking her hand, eyeing her from a distance for the rest of the night in the gymnasium while everyone else had punch and little side dishes, and made him give Mr. Scott a wide berth. It shouldn't have made him wait until Bulk was occupied snapping at Brady about his latest collected Ranger footage for Skull to ask Jason if he could talk to him in the hallway. "Look, I...I know this is gonna sound weird, what with your dad already being sick and everything, but, um," Skull fiddled with his fingers and the hem of his jacket, not meeting Jason's eye and already getting on his nerves--which were already heightened and frayed from dealing with his dad all evening, by the way, "When was the last time your mom saw a doctor, for, like, herself?" "I don't see how that's any of you business." "It's...it's not," Skull nodded, hair on the back of his neck raised at how Jason's fists were clenched at his sides and--though he wouldn't know--using his Red voice in warning, "But, I really think she should see one." "Are you a doctor?" "N-no, but--" "Are you aware that my dad has gone to see doctors at least once a week for five months? Don't you think that if anything were wrong with her, my mom would ask for herself?" Months and months of Jason's own stress and issues and frailty were building up from their inert place, showing in his eyes and voice, and the way he had backed Skull into a corner, out of sight of everyone--even the security cameras the schools had up for insurance reasons. "Not if she doesn't know anything is wrong." That little sentence, that stature, set of his shoulders: they all spoke the truth that Skull didn't mean harm, didn't want to upset Jason, was only trying to help. But Jason was angry, that little broken boy inside of him that his karate sensei had tried to sooth and put to bed rising from his slumber at the unfairness of even the idea of both of his parents being sick. Maybe Skull had expected it, and that's why he made sure they were alone when Jason lashed out--one hit, and then another, right into Skull's left side of the face, under the eye and above the teeth, where the bone made a sickening crack. Skull didn't make a sound, back against the wall and hand coming up to cover, or cup, the bloody mass and mess of his face as Jason seemed to pull back to lay one more hit. But, his Power Coin, Red in the back of his mind, reminded him about personal responsibility, and this was not who he was anymore. The tide of rage pulled back, just enough, but Jason still gave a warning as he turned and walked away, "Stay the hell away from me and my family, Skull. I won't have you making things worse over a sick joke." * There was blood in the exact corner next to the lockers Jason had left Skull present the next day. The blood that had dribbled off of his face having been left to stain the simple cement flooring that had an orange safety cone placed next to it for the cleaning crew to find. Bulk looked crabby and irritated all day, no Skull in sight, and Billy had actually wondered aloud where the other punk could have been when he'd managed to make it to a school event the night before, act responsibly without his mother or brother in attendance, and yet still didn't show up the next day. Then Kim had noticed Jason's knuckles. And Tommy noticed the way Jason wouldn't look anyone in the eye. * It was actually rather novel to see Billy angry, let alone angry enough at Jason to yell at the taller teen, but maybe it was the Blue in him that made it easy to snap at a Red going way over the line. "...Did you even bother to ask? Did you ask him why he thought that?" "I don't need to encourage his being an asshole--" "Eugene is not--" Billy almost snarled, pitching up on his tiptoes to meet Jason eye to eye in righteous indignation--before he took a deep breath, finger pointed still accusingly right in the Red Ranger's face as he balked back on the heels of his feet before continuing at a more controlled volume, but with no less frost, "Okay, let's look at this logically. Skull can be an insufferable prankster, he can be rude, abrasive, infuriating; but tell me when he's ever been needlessly cruel for the sake of being needlessly cruel?" Jason ground his teeth and crossed his arms, "Maybe Bulk put him up to it." "Which is why you were lead out into the hallway where nobody would see you punching him?" Kim spoke up, dry as a bone, understanding, but perhaps just as angry as Billy was. Zack and Trini hadn't looked this uncomfortable since Matt stopped hanging out with them in any meaningful capacity, but they both clearly agreed with the Pink Ranger. Tommy had elected to stay neutral, partly so Jason didn't feel like they were all ganging up on him, and partially because he didn't know enough about either of the punk duo to give commentary on whether it was plausible this was a joke or a misunderstanding. Jason's nostrils were flaring, arms still crossed and body tight in a kind of self hug as the words hit, but didn't seem to be sinking in. "Okay, okay, let's think about this without putting emotions and past behavior at the forefront," Trini reasoned, ever the voice of calm humanity, "Was this the first time Skull has ever met your mom?" Jason directed his eyes over their heads, looking into the middle distance, and scratched nape of his neck, "I mean, not technically." "Go on." Jason counted off on his fingers, "His brother brought him to a karate class once instead of his mother and my mom called him a really responsible young man," Billy looked utterly unimpressed at that image, face contorting much like any time Kim tried to fake a French accent, but allowed Jason to continue, "Skull was at least polite enough to give her a smile, but he never did show back up to the class." "Was he no good at it?" Zack asked, genuinely curious as he had also kinda seen Skull around when he was such a tiny, skinny little thing. "One of the other students leaned into a kick too hard and broke his arm," Billy answered, crossing his own arms with his head drooping to the side, completely ignoring Kim's curiosity at his knowing exactly when this all happened, "Never did say the kid's name, though." The Red Ranger curled his pointer finger, twitchy and telling, and both Trini and Zack caught the way his eyes twitched and looked decidedly anywhere except Billy's face. Both Black and Yellow Ranger spoke at the exact same time, "...Really?" with feeling, "Come on, man." Jason ducked his head as both Billy and Kim zeroed in with mirror expressions of 'are you fucking serious right now' just burning off of them. "I said I was sorry, and I didn't know I'd broken the arm," he tried to defend, a little ball of real guilt making its way home in his belly, as he lifted another finger, straightening out his pointer to be quick about this, "Anyway, he met my mom again at a parent/teacher conference when we were the only ones left waiting and his mom was..." How to describe the Skullovitch matriarch a year after her husband had bailed on the marriage... "A bitch." Tommy, Trini, Kim, Zack, and Jason all flinched bodily at the curse dropping easily out of Billy's mouth, the genius himself looking unperturbed at their stares as he crossed his arms and his nose wrinkled at a memory. ".....Yeah, that," Jason finished, his third finger twitchy as it rose up, "And then this last time when she shook his hand and then he pulled this crap about her seeing a doctor." "...She shook his hand?" "Yes, I just said that, Billy," Jason sighed, rolling his eyes and turning back, only to find Billy looking...curiously serious. Still angry at Jason, but he had that little head tilt and unfocused glaze as he looked into nothing. "Did he hold on and look at her nails for an awkwardly long time?" "I--...Yes?" "...She should see a doctor." * There it was, plain as day on the X-Ray and computer 3D visual once the three doctors that had seen to Christine Scott pointed it out with exhaustion and relief bundled up in their frames: a heart arrhythmia that without a diagnosis and treatment would have, doubtless and absolutely, lead to Jason's mom dying. Possibly before even Sam Scott, if they way the prescribed quite a few pills, relaxation techniques, and a surgery were anything to go by. His dad had sneered, the first time Jason brought up getting his mom a physical. He'd said Jason was being paranoid, acting like a child, but then Jason had sited Billy's concerns, how Billy was a genius that worked with some of the finest minds in the private sector, how if he said something should be done, he was usually right. Now that Sam had shut up so he could hold his wife's hand as she took this all in, at once grateful and scared and hopeful, Jason was left coming down from the shock and terror of the idea that he might have lost both of his parents in as short a time as the span of two years. (Less, one doctor had said, if she was as anxious as constantly as everyone else in Angel Grove; stress really was no joke on a heart like this, and that was without the added fact that she worried over her husband being sick every single day.) Once Jason came all the way down, he ended up looking from his mom to his dad, to his lap. Where he hands were perched on his knees, scabbed knuckles facing up. 'Shit motherfucker fuck shit,' echoed most insidiously through Jason's brain and, unknowingly, through his link with the Tyrannosaurus Power Coin, where Red sat in the Morphin Grid, completely unimpressed with its wielder. * Bulk wanting to tear his head off did not come as a surprise. The fact that he probably could have and would have was. Jason was pretty sure he lost about sixty seconds of time between telling Bulk that he was the reason Skull had missed school for three days (because he had to go to the hospital himself for the broken cheekbone that had to be set, and trapped blood under the skin that had to be drained; had to wear a huge patch of gaze over the sutures and sunglasses over his eyes because he looked like the walking dead with the burst blood vessels in his eye), and coming back to feeling like his head was going to fall off. Jason hanging by his throat as Bulk lifted him off the ground to slam him into a brick wall--again--took a fuzzy, dim backseat to the ringing in his ears from Bulk having punched him in the gut, clapped his hands over his ears to blow them out, and the taste of blood from Jason biting his tongue. Thankfully, Billy had insisted on coming along and provided the voice of reason that Jason was just protecting his mom, much like Bulk protected Skull. (And thank the Grid for that, because while Jason was stronger than a rhino in his Ranger form, he was just a human in his own flesh. He might not think of Bulk from day to day, a little part of his childhood holding on and reminding him that he was mostly all talk and a bit of a joke--but Bulk was just as strong as Jason with weights and stamina. It was really stupid to underestimate him.) But Billy had the Midas Touch, the silver tongue, and Bulk might not like his superiority very much, but he still respected him (in that nebulous way that everyone respected Billy and the rest of their group despite the chafing, salty grain of jealousy that sometimes clung to the respect; the envy for that closeness and shine that nobody else had) enough to clench the hand around Jason's throat once, before letting go and stepping back. Jason landed on his feet, but his head was still buzzing and the blood was still flowing from his tongue and made him nauseous; brought him to collapse down to his knees where he clutched at the bruising that would look like paint later. He coughed and coughed and spat blood for a good three minutes while Billy remained a steady buffer between the retched Red and the still very pissed off colossus who'd crossed his arms to wait. So, Jason didn't die, at least. He still had to go through the whole song and dance he'd prepped for Skull; how the punk was right, his mother wasn't quite as sick as his father, but she would have died if she went unchecked. Jason was out of line and would submit to whatever needed to be done to make up for the completely unnecessary violence inflicted on someone that had never been that cruel. Bulk had looked...very serious. Very contemplative. Had that look that Tommy or Billy sometimes got when they were faced with an obstacle in a monster or a dimension paradigm. So his willingness to give Jason a ride to Skull's work was such a different turn of events that Jason was half sure he was actually going to be taken into the woods to be buried in a shoebox after Bulk cut him into tiny pieces. He'd merely said, "Go home, Billy. Jason, get in the truck and I'll take you to talk to Skull," and hadn't bothered looking at either of them to follow his orders as he made way towards the vehicle he'd been heading for before being informed of the events as they were. And Jason did follow, stepping right into the cab as Bulk unlocked the door, and Billy did head for home after leaving a text for Jason to call if anything went wrong (so trust, but verify). Of course the catch was Bulk being there to supervise, five feet behind Jason as the shorter boy paused outside the establishment he had been completely unaware existed, let alone that Skull worked there. The building could have been mistaken as a night club probably dealing in the shadiest kind of shit, but the people that came in and out as Jason was buzzed in and Bulk followed after all looked reasonably well off, not high or drunk, and one in three were holding a big gulp's worth of coffee. The neon of 'The Alternative Cheesecake' twinkling was the last thing Jason reason saw on the outside before he passed through the doors into a very clean looking greeting point; the sounds of something like disco mixed with classical playing from the speakers overhead. "Hey, Bulk," Hailey from school, from Jason's art class, waved lazily from behind the desk, side-eyeing Jason's bruises and the blood clinging the corners of his mouth like bad lipstick, "You're not scheduled to work today." 'Bulk has a job?' Was a wildly inappropriate a thought, so Jason decidedly did not move his face as the lesbian femme punk handed Jason a visitor's pass, and also gave him a threatening, frost tipped glare when Bulk explained the situation. "Want me to kill him for you?" Oh, and that was unpleasant. "No, no," Bulk waved, poking Jason until he put the pass around his neck on the lanyard and starting walking towards a pair of doors at the end of the tiled hall, weird little clouds of cold air puffing out every few seconds, "I already almost knocked him out. He's here to apologize." * Scar tissue highlighted with phosphorescent paint; skin stretched over too many bones with hollows in them; too high heels carrying around too long legs as if it was a carnival piece in a Renaissance fair. Mohawks long and tall enough that they could have formed another head; more piercings than it seemed any living person should be able to have; tattoos everywhere except along fingers or lips. Swimsuits, pantsuits, pencil skirts, lingerie. So much jewelry that the sounds of metal on metal were almost like ocean waves. A vast expanse of dark corners that seemed to go on forever, platforms and photographers and music blasting different forms on different sets; Jason could easily imagine it was like a big party in a gay bar, but the dancers weren't allowed to move that much. Some of the people had bruises, bitemarks, more makeup than an entire coven of goths. Jason wasn't the least bit surprised he ended up following behind Bulk like...well, like he was a child again. So shy underneath the stern and responsibilities. The punk seemed a lot more understanding than he should have been, even paused here and there so Jason could reorient himself in the scenery of bright followed by dark, and some of the models trying to reach the length of themselves outside small windows, but smoke still coming in to swish and blend with the so cold air. "...What exactly do you do here?" "Model for personal request panels and calendars. Sometimes for nudes and character studies for art students," Bulk hummed, the both of them skittering around a much larger cluster of models--all in white, but with facial scars and too black hair. They almost bumped into a giant scarecrow of a man, dressed like a Harlequin, but bright yellow almost everywhere, with terrifying piercings in his face and ears. He smiled and waved them off as Jason queried, "I...you get paid well here?" "Four-fifty an hour, depending on the request." "Hundred?!" "You think that's inflated? When the pure nude sets pay a thousand for a single hour, and doubles after three?" The hand Jason grabbed, Bulk's big right hand that had choked him, didn't resist as Jason held on so he didn't get lost in a crowd on break drinking gallons of coffee, latte, tea with honey; or vaped while nibbling on health food. "You...do nudes here?" "No," the snort wasn't with disdain, but rather with real affection, "We're underage. We're limited to things that require covering our dicks." The karate blackbelt strained his hearing to take in Bulk's words as they moved into dim light again, the temperature dropping even more as the sounds of Glenn Gold crooned from the dark. "We're just special requests. I mostly do modeling for the art students so they can study forms other than idiot stick figures that starve themselves for perfection. Skull on the other hand--oh, here we are." Bulk slowed the both of them down as they came to the second cranny from the back, a set decorated like a bar that had been vacated in the wake of a natural disaster; overturned wooden crates, broken bottles, flyleaves, detritus, iris and roses either dried or hanging fresh. The centerpiece being Skull. Shaved legs, black pantyhose, black stilettos, perfect posture leaning against the bar. Garters, a corset, an orange flame ribbon trailing down his neck and along his neck to tie into that corset perfectly. He was sipping what looked like milk from a crystal glass, bruises on full display, but with makeup perfect mirroring on the other side so he gave off the look of having ironic tattoos for the camera. He was wearing lace panties and-- Bulk smacked the back of his head Jason kept running through his apology in his head as Skull finally noticed them, not even blinking at Bulk's half-amused look, but a little nervous as he asked for his break and made his way almost like a shy dog over to Jason. "Is everything okay?"

Christmas....Slasher Edition 🔪🩸🎄

I'm not really into holiday type fics or reading but I wanted to give something to you all. From me to you. Happy Holidays!

Michael Audrey Myers is and always has been utterly obsessed with you. It's only logical that he would pay attention to your interests and what you like. He does appreciate it if you tell him what you'd want up front. He prefers things that way

If you ask for anything specific, he will either:

A) Steal from someone's house (might kill them too) or

B) Steal it from the store

Either way, you're gonna get your gift. He's very determined about it.

Michael is not a Christmas person- very loyal to his main love Halloween. He'll help you decorate but won't put his energy into it.

You had a brilliant idea to remix his favorite holiday in by doing Xmas pumpkin carving! Now there are a few pumpkins (expertly carved by yours truly) with some Santa hats and lights on the front porch. Michael is very pleased

So what'd you get him this year? A hand picked, hand crafted special made kill kit with unique killing devices.

Also a flame retardant, bulletproof mechanic jumpsuit too. Michael thinks you're wonderful and smart to think this up

Jason loves Christmas but never gets to celebrate anymore. Last time he did, it was when his mom was alive...

However, now that you're here, he has a reason to celebrate again!

The cabin still needs a good fix up, but that doesn't stop you two from dressing it up real nice. Multicolored lights were scattered across the house and roof, and plenty of dressed up snowmen and snow reindeer 🦌 were made too.

Jason chopped down a very pretty tree a few days ago to decorate. You use some ornaments you brought with you. Jason uses some that his mom kept hidden away.

He even bakes some cookies for Santa to eat. How cute

Jason hand makes whatever presents he wants to give. Or he can just give you all the debit and credit cards he's collected recently.

And you get him......a bunch of toys~. That way he can play and feel free whenever he likes.

Brahms loves Christmas cause he gets to be selfish and get away with it.

He'll give you a list of everything he wants. Including a few nice cardigans, blankets, fidget toys, a pocket pu-...my goodness gracious 🙄

Let's just ignore that last one

You make a great Christmas dinner with his help. And he actually helps this time. You'll have to watch over him since he messes things up pretty quick

What does he get you? Well him of course!

He's the greatest present of all. Really- he will let you tell him what to do without question and is pleasant all day.

Bubba is excited for the holidays since it's the only time his family gets along!

.....kinda but it's better than normal.

Their Xmas "tree" is a tree made up of an assortment of bones with ornaments hanging on them. It's low-key impressive. The only way you all get a white (with some yellow and black) Christmas in Texas.

Unless you're cool with cannibalism, I suggest making your own Christmas dinner off to the side.

Bubba can't really afford to give you gifts- so he makes something nice for you. He's very sweet.

You get him some very sharp and durable tools that make it easier to cut up corpses. The handles are different colors too.

You also get him the greatest apron ever.

Watching all the Christmas movie classes- a whole marathon. Grandma got run over by a reindeer, how the Grinch stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, etc etc.

Also, you're all wearing ugly Christmas sweaters

Spiked eggnog going on for sure. Heavy on the spiked part

Part of the day entails dancing around with Stu singing some songs and playing random Xmas games with Billy

Also, someone's chasing everyone with a mistletoe...you all know who

They both are very good bfs and get you everything you wanted (it might be stolen but that's okay)

What you get them: Stu gets some joke/prank gifts, a couple of beanies, and a piercing gun (hey so he wants a couple of piercings...don't judge); Billy gets a nice watch and some of the newest clothes from his face brand

Dick Grayson: Fine Cuisine

Summary: Fluff

• Dick is unprepared for a family meal but your offer your fine expertise and have the whole family asking questions about you.

Warnings: Mature language

A/N: Hello lovlies! I’ve missed you all so much, I hope this helps a bit and there’s so much more I could add onto this so please enjoy and lemme know how you all are~

>>>>—————————>

It started with a family dinner.

As many curious situations do in retrospect, but with a family of vigilantes whose relationship ties have frayed, intermingled and been resewn makes for more interesting get-togethers compared to most.

One thing they could all agree on though? Dick Grayson cannot cook.

"I can't believe that, they just assume it's going to end in a takeout?" Came your amused voice as you placed a coffee on your kitchen island that Dick was currently seated - or rather slumped at.

"It's because the last two times I've hosted something like this, takeout has saved my ass." The ravenette embarrassingly clarifies, voice trailing off toward the end and did his best to avoid looking at you.

Dick Grayson was technically a neighbour, albeit living a few floors below your more lavish (and expensive) apartment suite. After moving into the complex on the same day, you quickly excavated the common ground to build a solid foundation for friendship - as such, meet-ups like these became a regular thing, switching apartments each time.

"Then, I'll help you out." You proudly confirmed, gesturing to your grand kitchen which was the sole reason you’d brought the place - one of the many things Dick envied about your luxurious living area compared to the standardised version of his own, though on an Officers salary he couldn’t afford something like this.

"Ah (Y/n) no, I can't let you do that!” Came his instant reply, hands waving defensively as he adamantaly brainstormed another excuse. “Plus you'll be working that night."

"True, but that doesn't mean I can't set you up beforehand. We'll start tomorrow, I'll teach you a recipe."

———

As previously planned, Dick turned up at your door rather nervously even though he’d been around you many times - not once had he demonstrated a serious negative flaw to his character in order to impress you, but cooking was one of them and you were about to witness chaos that’d likely dispel any romantic inclination he hoped you held for him.

“Ready?”

“No.”

With a playful laugh, you rolled your eyes and pulled the male into your kitchen noting how he was likely tired from his shift at Blüdhavens Police Department earlier that afternoon so a good meal should do wonders. Maybe it’d give him a better nights sleep too? The acrobat never seemed to obtain many of those for some unknown reason, apparently it’s ‘too noisy’ in the city.

“Oh and you can host in my apartment, it’s bigger and I’ll have all the equipment you need. You already have a spare key anyway.”

“You’re really amazing, I don’t deserve you - y’know that?” There were deeper feelings involved in that seemily offhanded thank you, ones relating to his role as Nightwing and his past mistakes which all remained a hated secret from you.

It started well, Dick following along with ease and you concluded that he picked things up fast with how observant he was which sped up the process. The main course he’d nailed with your guidance and so, you decided to move onto dessert.

“Now we add cocoa powder to th-“ You’d froze, mouth open out of surprise with the substances dusting your lips, cheek and part of your left collar bone - the offender in question mirroring your expression, albeit holding back his laughter due to his colossal misjudgement.

“I - I didn’t think it’d go everywhere when I ripped the packet open...”

“You don’t ever rip the packet, you tear it gently!” Came your dangerously mischievous correction, licking the sweet substance from your lips before flicking the currently non-chocolate brownie covered spoon at him with flecks landing on the side of his face.

“Oh, it’s on!”

This ensued an all out war, the two of you ducking and dodging oncoming attacks as you danced around the kitchen island with varying results of accuracy until Dick decided to slide over the marble surface and capture you in his arms.

His embrace faltered slightly as your back hit the island during your feeble attempt to get away, finding yourself trapped between him and the cool surface too enthralled in the carefree antics to notice the proximity. A beat of silence passed once the atmosphere had settled, Dick releasing a breathy chuckle with his grip around your waist loosening slightly as you looked up with a victorious smirk - he took the opportunity to lean forward slightly as if testing the waters and careful to note any kind of reaction you replied with.

However, there was a lack of trust as all is fair in love and war, hence your devious reasoning to close the gap some more and with the softness of his warm breath dancing on your lips you swiftly leaned past his whilst dragging your tongue across his cheek. Dick pulled back instantly, a mix of disgust and offence in his eyes as you spoke.

“Needs more sugar.”

“I’m sweet enough as it is thank you, you’d know that if you’d have just kissed me instead of betraying me like that!” Dick wittily snapped back, admiring the melodious laughter that escaped you at his response.

“I’m sure you do, speaking of - these brownies should last until the dinner so you won’t have to make them again on the day alright? I’ll get everything ready so you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I guess you’d taste pretty sweet too.” Though referencing your kind nature, you couldn’t help but lightly punch him in the shoulder.

———

Regardless of Dicks wistful prayers, the deadline had finally arrived and his family would be sporadically arriving in a matter of hours - so help him.

"All the ingredients are on the counter - do not use anything else - and I've detailed the instructions on the whiteboard in case you forget anything." You pointed to each item as you spoke, donning a jacket before barely making it past the kitchen doorframe due to your neighbours dramatically desperate pleas.

"Can't you just stay? And do it with me?"

"I have to go to work." You laughed at his antics, the man looking like a lost puppy amidst your vast collection of kitchen utensils.

"Work will survive without you, c'mon you wouldn't lose out on much - I'll even pay for the trouble."

That, truly caused you to hesitate with a look of sheer bemusement, a mischievous glint dancing in your irises that mocked his claim almost as much as your sardonic tone.

"If you truly knew my job and paycheck then you'd take that back.” With that, you were quick to flip to a more cheerful voice as you waved goodbye to a pouting Grayson. “Anyway, you'll be fine and tell me how it went once I get back~"

"Wait (Y/n) h-"

The slam of the front door echoed your departure leaving a Dick feeling more lost than ever, the kitchen seemingly quadrupling in size now.

Bruce arrived first along with Damian, Cass, Duke and Alfred. Then there was Tim who’d apparently travelled from Titans tower and finally Jason who’d sauntered in fashionably late as predicted but only by 5 minutes. Each baffled by the sudden change of location which only intensified when the host brought out plates of home cooked dinner.

"..."

"This... this isn't take out..."

"No, it's actual food.” Dick confirmed almost offended and words laced with a hint of underlying sarcasm. “That I made myself."

"Okay, so uh - is it edible then?" Jason quipped back, smirking at his elder brother in a smug manner that only he could achieve.

"Would you just eat it? I went through a lot of stress and effort for this."

Dick encouraging everyone as he sat down, the action only bemusing the members of his family more as they complied to his wishes with varying degrees of hesitance from each of them. Damian trusted Dick the most, but he patiently waited for his father to finish his mouthful before even touching his own dish.

"Wow, this is incredible, the flavour and everything - Dick what happened to you?!" Duke enthusiastically mocked and continued to devour the meal with a sense of radiance which contrasted to Cassandras pure silence as she savoured every tasteful mouthful.

"Grayson, there is no way you are solely responsible for this cuisine." Damian suspiciously raised a brow at the older hero, tentatively laying his cutlery elegantly on the now clear plate.

"Thank you, and maybe I had some assistance from my neighbour."

“Thank you for dinner Dick, it was surprisingly delicious and please give our thanks to your mysterious friend too.” Bruce knowingly added, proud of his protégés accomplishments - though minor in comparison to Alfreds glowing exterior.

“I told you there was hope Master Bruce.”

"Bro, they left a whole list of instructions so you wouldn't mess up and hey, call if you need anything. Sounds like a plan -" Jason, who had waited until everyone was finished explored your kitchen in hopes of finding some evidence as to who their saviour was.

"Jason no! They're working!"

"It‘s an emergency, you’ve been replaced by a clone with adequate cooking skills!” Tim wittily added once leaning against the kitchen doorframe to observe the scene with Damian inspecting the whiteboard before questioning it’s purpose.

“Why leave this if they couldn't answer then?"

"That's the point, she will answer and I don't want to disturb her right now. They've done enough for me already." Dick painfully sighed, strategically slapping Jason’s phone into the air and catching it with his other hand in one swift motion much to the irritation of the latter.

"Hold up - she?" Duke cut in now, holding his hands out for emphasis and subtlety fishing for elaboration.

"Are you dating...?” Jason hummed, taking a moment to analyse Dicks reaction prior to cementing his assumption. “No, but you want to, right?"

“We are not -“

“You want to date someone?” Cass innocently inquired now walking in with a pile of plates, Bruce and Alfred following in afterwards with clean up of their own.

“I mean I -“

“I’ve seen enough of your crushes to know you have one, you’re already flustered by thinking about them romantically.” Bruce effortlessly deducted, Alfred nodding in agreement whilst commencing the washing up.

“You can’t just call me out like that Bats, after everything with been through too.” Dick feigned betrayal, a hand on his heart whilst Bruce shook his head.

“Oh yeah, how long did he wait for Starfire and Barbara though?” Tim jokingly nudged Jason who chuckled at the small dig, though charismatic and charming - when real feelings were involved, Dick Grayson wasn’t one to straightforwardly act on them.

“Real mature guys.”

“I think you should tell her.” Was the sincere voice of reason, Cassandras kind smile enough to silence the devilish remarks of his brothers who now shrugged in defeat.

“We could help...”

———

Miraculously, you'd attained reservations at the most eloquent restaurant in Gotham, located in the more luxurious district of the wealthy. As a result, it served only the finest gourmet cuisine and had waiting lists longer than any other, so much so that even Bruce Wayne had yet to successfully book a place at the establishment.

You had given him the news when he’d recounted the events of his family dinner (skipping over certain discussions) and how they were grateful for your generosity.

Now, you'd asked Dick for how many he'd like seated at the table so you could finalise the arrangements - he knew you worked there, meaning staff privileges were likely applied in this situation but he was still left speechless.

Gawking at the skyrocketing prices, Dick now understood how much missing one day of work would seriously cost you - he definitely couldn't have afforded your time that night after all.

"So, you say you're paying for this?"

With a painstaking hum of agreement, the eldest nodded with a hint of concern detected on his features, fortunately Bruce had come prepared with his own credit card (just in case). Although his family could be provoking and frivolous toward one another, they were also respectful in situations like these and wouldn't run the bill up too high like certain members would if Bruce had been footing the bill. Dick had a charismatic bond with all of them in that sense.

Meanwhile, you handled everything in your kitchen of organised chaos as the orders came pouring in, including that of Dicks table who you had yet to formerly greet.

"This is cereal..." The head waiter meant it more of a question than a statement, looking to you with upmost uncertainty due to the simplicity of the dish compared to those on your signature menu.

Did they even stock Lucky Charms with the ingredients? The answer was no, you’d intentionally bought them purely for this very day and scenario.

"I know, I know - please serve it to my neighbour on Table 12, he'll get it." You humourously assured the man who seemed to have more to say but didn’t wish to argue with higher authority.

"Ah, Chef..." Your sous chef called moments later, overlooking the scene with mild skeptism before realising the nature of your scheme.

"Hm?"

"You do realise he is currently seated with Mr Bruce Wayne, don't you?" Upon processing that unprecedented information you immediately bolted - hot on the trail of the waiter with a weak promise in your wake.

"What?! I thought he'd bring his friends along not his- oh god, I just sent them cereal- shit, I'll be right back!"

With strategy and precision, you carefully intercepted the tray only seconds before it’d be placed in front of the empty seat of Dick Grayson - the man in question probably taking a bathroom break.

"Aha, pardon me, this was an incorrect order on my part, please forgive the interruption." You bowed with an apology, disappearing in hopes the remainder of the party hadn’t the time to fully decipher the mistake.

Of course, unbeknownst to you, this was a table full of detectives who constantly observed even the most trivial of details.

"Was that... cereal?"

The night followed on as planned, yourself wrapped up in cooking and supervising throughout the night with the only interruption coming from the waiting staff informing you that Table 12 would like to meet the Chef. Such a gesture was commonplace for you, customers regarded as strangers being much less intimidating than your neighbours family - you couldn’t comprehend why, it’s not like you were dating him or anything but their auras just radiated strength.

"Good evening, I'm glad to hear you -" Arriving at the table, you weren’t given the chance to finish before Dick had stood to greet you with a warm smile gently brushing your upper arm once deciding against hugging you out of habit.

"Hey, (Y/n). You didn’t come over this morning, everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine Dick I just had to readjust a menu." You waved his worries off with a grateful nod, hands on your hips in accomplishment as you expected to resume natural conversation with him.

"Okay okay, compliments to you, the food was immaculate - but how do you know our brother?" A youthful male bearing a white streak through his hair cut in, genuine sincerity in his tone when offering his praise before incredulously gesturing to Dick.

"He's my neighbour."

"I - he's a what now?" Duke shook his head in disbelief, looking between you both rather unconvinced.

"Are you kidding me Grayson?!" Tim was next, the most exasperated out of the whole table as he pinched the bridge of his nose whilst Dick quizzically scanned each of his company for insight.

"What...?"

"You got cooking lessons from one of the top Chefs in the whole damn country, you're friends with her, and you didn't even know who she was?!" The slimly built youth exclaimed, apparently knowledgeable in regards to the culinary world and had read of your famous reputation.

“(Y/n) (L/n) owns this restaurant Dick. Also, thank for the other week, the recipe was lovely.” Bruce politely added, nodding to you with a smile.

“You didn’t say that, you only said you worked here.” Dick turned to you now, in a feeble attempt to justify his lack of acknowledgment to your renowned status.

“Well, I do. In my defence you never asked, I mean my apartment and kitchen are rather fancy - that didn’t come on minimum wage.” You replied a matter-of-factly with an air of confidence to your voice.

"Are we forgetting that this is also the chef who was going to serve Richard cereal?" At the remark from Duke, a heated flush adorned your skin due to the embarrassment of being caught - the whole table breaking into collective chuckles.

"You were? - Wow that's such a dick move!" Dick was openly laughing at your failed attempt at humour, lightly nudging your side as you pushed him away in playful defence.

"Shut up! I didn't realise you were with your family, or else I wouldn't have done it."

Jason immediately waved that claim off, cheekily smirking at you as he spoke. “Oh no, I'm so glad you did, honestly it's the main reason I like you right now."

“That and you spared us the horror of Graysons cooking.” Damian conviently inputted, conniving grin sent to his favourite brother.

“You’re welcome, ah I apologise but I should get back to work so please excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you all.” Taking a calculating glance over the expanse of exquisite tables and order exchanges you thought it best to return to your duties with a gracious smile and started toward the kitchen.

“Can I drop by tonight, I won’t be able to afford any thank you gifts after this but I’ll bring you a coffee?” Dick cheerily inquired, causing you to spin on your heel with a shy laugh and confirmation of his proposal.

“Don’t worry, this is my treat. You guys don’t have to pay for anything so enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that you were once again swept up into the busy atmosphere beyond the kitchen doors.

The table remained quiet for a few moments, Dick sitting down and looking to them almost as if searching for their impressions of you only to be met with bemused, impressed and mischievous gazes.

Not for you, oh no - these were shamelessly directed at a now enamoured Dick Grayson.

“Please marry her.”