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#everyone prefers jason like this

nerdpoe · 2 months

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Jason is a nice dude, really~

He's been cleaning up his act. He's been hanging out with the other Bats outside of patrol, reaching out and talking to Roy and Artemis, making amends with Tim, who keeps hiding from him for some reason.

He always cooks for more than one person, takes one of the Bats breaking into his apartment in stride, cursing less, being open and friendly more, and overall is trying to be better.

Meanwhile;

Inside his brain, Jason is fighting for control over his own body every day. He's been possessed, and because everyone likes the "nice" him better, no one's fucking doing anything about it.

Once he gets control again he is so kicking all of their asses.

#batman au #story prompt #nice jason but not really #jason got possessed but because the ghost is playing nice #everyone prefers jason like this #so they don't look into it #tim is freaked out tho #and he is looking into it but like #far away #jason todd #red hood #red hood au #idk someone mentioned mischaracterization as a bad thing and my brain went #but what if it was foreshadowing

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batfamfucker · 1 year

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There are four main types of Batfam fans in regard to how people interpret Bruce Wayne as a dad (/Joking. This is mostly satire and should not be taken seriously):

Fans that think Bruce is emotionally constipated and isn't the best at being a parent but still tries (Differs per person). Don't necessarily think he's absuive but thinks he can be toxic or have unhealthy expectations for the Robins. Can smell the Oldest Daughter Syndrome coming from Dick and have Family Line (By Conan Gray) as their top song on their Dick inspired playlist and Daddy Issues (By The Neighbourhood) for Jason.

Fans that choose to believe Bruce goes to therapy in their own canon. Love B:WFA. Thinks the comic can be cheesy at times and so find a balance between B:WFA Bruce and Please Go To Therapy BruceTM as their middle ground. He struggles. They advocate that Bruce is not a bad parent, he just has bad writers that seem to forget Bruce wouldn't hurt kids, especially not his own. Love the humane moments and scenes he has in BTAS and the early JL cartoons. He may not be perfect but he's not literally abusive. Whores for Bruce being able to admit when he is wrong and for Jason and Bruce reconciling. I recommend Grow As We Go by Ben Platt for this one.

A mix between the first two. Was fine-ish when Dick was younger. Didn't help him in the healthiest way but eh. Still emotionally constipated but that happened more so after Dick left and Jason died. Started getting better when Tim came back but was still closed off. Should probably go to therapy with the kids so they can drag his ass about all the things he's done that have actually affected them negatively. Understands his mistakes and is also able to admit when he's wrong, eventually. It's not easy but he starts to do better and learns to be more emotionally available. Still has to get chewed out by Alfred sometimes but definitely better than he used to be and it shows. Reconciliation is slow and gradual but progress is made for everyone involved.

The one's I personally avoid for my own sanity and wellbeing:

Think Bruce is a complete bastard and abuser. Want him to choke. Hate any and all interpretations of him. Some of which will refuse to understand how anyone could have a different interpretation. Will point out comics where, in all fairness, he is a dick but forget that characterisation can significantly differ from one series to the next, as comic characters are constantly passed around to different writers and have been for decades. Not to mention movies, shows, etc.

#Bruce Wayne #Batman #Batfam #Batdad #I'm not tagging everyone in the Batfam I can't be assed #Sorry there's like 500 #Bruce has a child for every mental disorder he has #Dick is his ADHD. Jason is his C-PTSD. Tim is his Anxiety. Cass is his OCD. Damian is his Autism.#Like bro the therapist is RIGHT there #You have the money just GO #I am a mix of 2 and 3 tbh but more so 2 because he is my comfort fictional father figure. I already have a shit dad irl #I'm not dealing with it in my favourite media too #Type 4 fans scare me I lowkey see so many people like that and I'm like. If the block button wasn't free. I'd be in debt by now #I get that you saw Tom Kings work. So did I. I hate that fuck. But I personally prefer the scene of him in JL with Ace on the swings #Or the one with him playing with shape block toys with a baby whilst Supes and WW handle the questioning #Or when he hugs literally any of his kids #Or the one of him and Jason watching a movie and eating popcorn when Jason's ill. And they have the picture of them posing #Or when he cried in Flashpoint over the letter his dad left him because the little boy in him needed that #Plus any time Bruce and Clark interact as Best Friends. The Golden Age comics where they were basically Dick's gay dads 💀#But yeah. I could make a poll from this tbh.#This is a generalisation on purpose genuinely do not take it seriously #If I see ANY disclosure. It's delete and block on sight #Bruh I'm still recovering from the notes of my Fallout 4 John Hancock in a Drag Race outfit crossover post #I know it sounds like I'm being paranoid but that's because I am. You have not seen the things I have seen in my notes #You do not know of the wars I have fought of over ghoul dicks and high heels #I have seen things I can never burn from my vision. Read things I will never have the mercy of forgetting #Over silly little shitposts. Lmao. Anyway. Here. Have some food.

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

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Jason absolutely hating whenever you use his actual name randomly out of the blue rather then the plethora of nicknames you’ve had for each other.

Absolutely hates it more than you think.

Naturally at first he tired not to think too deeply into it but after being together for as long as you have, something he didn’t think was possible but is eternally grateful that you were still with him, and suddenly hearing -in his own opinion- his boring, bland name come out of your mouth felt wrong to Jason on so many levels to hear.

‘I’ll see you soon yeah? Besides it’ll be like I’ve never left, I promise baby.’ - Jason

‘I believe you Jason, I’ll see you when you get back home. Preferably unscathed but I know when I’m asking for too much.’ - you.

He’d stop just before his hand touched through door handle. ‘That’s not my name.’

‘Yeah it is.’ You’d laugh.

‘To everyone maybe but to you? Nobody by the name Jason should exist when baby, babe, Jaybirdie, handsome, my one and only, or my love are right there to be used like they have been throughout the entirety of our relationship.’ Jason explains and you couldn’t fight back the smile he was causing.

You’d gladly call him any name he wishes but you did recently lost a bet to Dick a while ago and your punishment was to call Jason by his name for an entire day of his choosing. Today just so happened to be that day. And as much as Jason hated it, you hated it even more, but it was rather endearing to know just how much Jason lived for your nicknames as though they were his lifeline.

‘But what if you forget your own name one day?’ You asked coyly. ‘Someone has to remind you of it.’

‘That’s what everyone else is for,’ Jason began, ‘I’m meant to forget my name with you sweetheart, i not meant to remember it when I’m with you because why would I when your calling me by such sweeter names.’ He finished and you got up from your seat to hold his face in your hands.

Oh to hell with it, Dick will understand. you thought to yourself.

‘Always the hopeless romantic aren’t you Jaybirdie?’ You asked with a smile.

‘Only with you.’ He replied, holding you tightly in his warm, protective embrace.

#jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc imagines

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kimberly-spirits13 · 7 months

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Dating Jason Todd General Headcannons

warnings: nothing graphic but there are a few bed preferences in there without being descriptive

He's a very veryyyy touchy person

There is not a time in your entire relationship where he doesn't have his hands on you somehow

he wants you to sit in his lap and be cuddled up against his chest, wants his hand on your thigh, pinkies linked, holding your hand, touching shoulders while standing close together, literally anything

He's a total big spoon almost always

He likes to engulf you and it makes him feel like you're safe

Also likes it when you use his chest or stomach as a pillow

"Don't you have a pillow to sleep on Y/N/N?" "yea, I'm using it doofus."

He likes to sleep on top of you and have you scratch his scalp or run your fingers through his hair

has him out like a light

Jason is a heavy sleeper so if you move around a lot, it won't bother him

That being said, it's hard to wake him up from a nightmare

sometimes you can't wake him up and have to let him ride it out and wake up on his own

He HATES waking up alone and will tightly wrap his arms and legs around you when he sleeps

He likes being able to do things separately but in the same room

maybe you're working on a case and he's reading Jane Austin or something

He really prefers a vigilante S/O because he knows they can take care of themselves

it's one less thing for him to worry about if you can roundhouse someone three times your size

He really thinks that it's hot when you get aggressive on patrol or missions

gets hot and bothered very easily

he's not one to say anything degrading while you two are in the sheets

he's more like a really sweet and attentive type that can also get aggressive but never mean

he's not into choking, sorry but no- you two have been choked to near death enough and he doesn't find anything attractive about it

He also isn't the type to immediately want to get it on the moment you're in shorts or have your shirt off or something

Like he'll tell you that you're fine as hell but he's not immediately a dog towards you unless you want to do anything

He's the kind of person that you can be very very comfortable around

Likes to ride his motorcycle with you since it's another chance for you two to be close

is a hype man and is the kind of person that you take shopping with you

He'll always be bias towards red though

I don't know that I'd say that Jason is the type of person that is sleeping around with everyone

I think that he's had a few relationships before (maybe like 2 or 3, 4 at most) but he's not going around the neighborhood

Is extremely protective and loyal

Like would not even think about doing ANYTHING that could hinder your trust towards him

He is the type to open your car doors and open the door into a building and order for you if you want and walk closest to the road

if scary dog privileges were a human

Jason is the sweetest little thing but he looks like he can snap anyone like a twig with his pinky

He likes being held

Please wrap this man in your arms for a few hours

that's ultimately all he wants

He doesn't have a boobs or butt preference and generally just loves everything about you

There's no being insecure in this house y'all

"What'd you say about yourself?" "Jason it's really not a big deal, I just don't like this scar from that sword fight a few years back." "You know what Y/N, no, uh uh, sit down and let me tell you something you literal angel"

goes on and on and on and on about how perfect you are

Sticks his head under your shirt

It's a common occurrence

ultimately, Jason just wants love

that's it, that's all the puppy wants

He really likes to cook for you since it's very domestic

He likes anything domestic, even cleaning the house or doing something mundane like the dishes

it makes him feel at home with you

he's the one that buys the candles in the house since I think he would secretly have really good taste in things like that

takes care of himself really well after he was resurrected in the Lazarus Pit

uses nice shampoo, conditioner, washes his face and moisturizes, shaves often, he's down to do face and hair masks with you at any point

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #Jason todd x reader fluff #red hood x gender neutral reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood fluff

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pigfacedbitch · 8 months

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Let's Break Up (I)

summary : you try to do the break up prank on your boyfriend.

word count : 0.5k

type : headcanons

pairing/s : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Nico Di Angelo x Reader

warning/s : none

here is my masterlist! Part II is composed of Leo, Frank, and Will.

Jason Grace

"Let's break up."

Jason is formally trained to remain calm and level-headed in the most drastic of situations ever since he was young.

So if you're expecting him to look surprised or upset, he won't.

Don't be fooled though, he may look like he's listening as you explain but deep inside this electric boy is panicking! 😂

"Okay, Jason. What in Jupiter's name have you done to make (Y/N) upset? Think! THINK!"

It might take a while for Jason to respond because he is torn between asking you what he can do to fix it, what he did wrong, or just be desperate and beg you to stay with him.

So he does what any Roman would do in his place. Accept his fate.

He fixes his composure and coughs a little to avoid his voice from cracking.

"If that's what you think is best, I understand-"

"It's just a prank, love."

"Thank the gods."

You never knew your boyfriend could sigh that hard.

Jason laughs in relief and hugs you tightly, like he wasn't thinking of crying his heart out and eating ice cream alone in the Zeus cabin later.

He'll never tell you that though.

Percy Jackson

"I want to break up."

"Nope."

Percy just can't see the two of you breaking up. No matter how much he tries, he knows it's literally imposible.

He already has a list of plans; when he will propose, where to get married, where you'll spend the rest of your lives together, how many children you two will have, and their names. Even the number of pets allowed in your future home.

But you don't give up easily.

"What do you mean, no? Isn't that my decision?"

"OUR decision, (Y/N). And I say no."

"But-"

"No buts, baby. If you're tired of this relationship then rest. We'll try again in the morning."

You just pout in defeat, taking a bite of the blue chocolate chips cookies his mother made for him before he left for Camp Half-Blood.

He smirks like the handsome devil he is, pulling you into his arms and lays his head on your shoulder.

"There's no getting rid of me, (Y/N). You're stuck with me forever."

He doesn't notice the small smile on your face, preferring not to have it any other way.

Nico Di Angelo

"I was thinking of breaking up."

He would shadow travel even before you could say another word.

Just YEETS HIMSELF OUT😌

Good luck trying to find him because he would be nowhere to be found. You already asked everyone yet nobody knows where he is.

Hours passed, no sign of him. You got truly worried that you can't even fall asleep.

You were just laying on your bed, staring into nothing when you hear a knock on your window.

It's Jules-Albert, holding a bag of McDonalds with your favorite foods and drink. It also has a note.

"Just think about what you said with a full stomach. You do stupid shit when you're hungry."

You don't know if you should be offended or laugh.

Still in your pajamas, you run to the Hades cabin and knock on his door. No one answers.

You do feel a pair of arms around your waist and cold nose nuzzling your neck.

You turn your head to kiss Nico's cheek as he leans more into you. He then whispers in your ear-

"I love you, tesoro mio. Don't scare me like that again."

Gods, you didn't have the heart to tell him it was a prank.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson headcanons #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus headcanons #heroes of olympus imagine #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace headcanons #nico di angelo #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo headcanons #break up prank #riordanverse

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missbluesunflowersstuff · 1 month

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Some batfamily headcanon

They all have auditory processing disorder at this point, except for Damian and Duke

Damian is the youngest and Bruce and the others protect him most and Duke uses armor plus his powers makes him a little difficult to get hurt

Dick is partially deaf in his left ear and Tim is partially deaf in his right ear

Bruce and Jason suffer from chronic pain

If Steph or Damian just stopped and went into some blank state for more than two minutes call the most responsible adult near immediately, they are having an anxiety attack (they just freeze and stare at nothing, this is their anxiety attack)

Tim has narcolepsy actually this is why he has the worst sleeping schedule of them all

(Tim's narcolepsy may be undiagnosed, diagnosed but his parents hid the result, Tim refuses to take his medication because he believes he can "handle" it, it's up to you)

Jason, Cass and Damian have PTSD

(all of them have it actually, but these three have the worst attacks)

Dick emergency contact is Donna Troy

and it doesn't matter what the batfamily do or say, Dick is always puts Donna as his emergency contact

Damian emergency contact is Maya Ducard

Damian had a lot of nightmares in him early years, the family takes turns to take care of it

Jason and Damian have intrusive thoughts (hurt the others and hurt themselves, Jason villain era was basically 'I let my intrusive thoughts win' ) - today Damian handled it better than Jason did in the past (Jason I love you, but I will never forgive you for what you did to Mia Dearden)

Bruce created a lot of personas for his work and because of it Dick created the "hamburger theory"

If he accepts the hamburger and eats it with both hands it's Batman; if he starts eating his hamburger with fork and knife it's Bruce Wayne; if he's holding the burger with a napkin and smile it's Brucie; but if he rejected the hamburger just run, it's not safe near him in that moment

Dick made this theory when he still was a Robin and this is some 'don't tell dad' information between all of the kids

They usually share information with Cass in audio to help her understand, Babs still helps her with how to read but she prefers to use emojis or audio messages

Cass may or may not respond to their audio, but she will view it

Bruce and the others have no clue about Dick real health status because the only person who has legal rights to it is Donna and she doesn't share with them

One time Tim tried to steal Damian medical records to put in their data, he found out that Maya already did that and now she is the only person in the world legally allowed to have that information

Both Dick and Damian don't regret their decision because they really trust in their sisters more than the bats

(and yes, Bruce feels breyated because of this)

14!Damian is still a little afraid of sleeping, because he doesn't know what kind of dream he might have (he doesn't have nightmares like he used to, but the anxiety is still there)

Duke and Damian usually hang out more than the others; one time Steph asks why in the common channel and Duke only answers "you know that me and him are basically immortals, right? When everyone leaves, we'll still be here" (Duke is immortal because of his powers and Damian... Do you really think his family would allow him die?)

No one knows exactly the kind of shit Damian was submitted in the league and as Tim falls in get his medical records they'll never knows

The same applicants for Cass trying, what exactly Cain did with her is something she'll never tell

Jason actually has amnesia from his league days or some kinda of weird and very selective amnesia, everything just looks like a blur to him

Jason believes that he was hypnotized to forget everything or some weird magic stuff. But on some nights, in the silence of his room, Jason still seems like a fat baby lying near him, he wonders who is the baby and who they are now...

Some days, because of his chronic pain, Bruce uses a cane to walk around the house, but only inside

#dc comics #batfamily #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batfam headcanons #batfam

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flamingpudding · 8 months

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Nice Cosplay, dude!

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Just get in, beat the criminals, dismantle the bomb and get out again, preferably with no injuries so they all would get to enjoy Alfred's cookies at the end of the night.

But no. Of course things couldn't be simple. Not when Constantine suddenly enters their coms, screaming something about a multidimensional rip and then Jason shouting something about seeing a whirlpool of green that feels very very bad and then Dick started cursing at B being stubborn and....

Tim buried his face in his hands. At least thanks to Jason seeing that Lazarus Pit like Portal everyone believed him this time that Bruce was still alive but this time not lost in time but apparently thrown into another dimension. Though that wasn't making the situation any better. Because Tim was sure Alfred was the only reason the Manor was still standing otherwise his siblings and himself included would have destroyed it by now.

Damian's enraged shout echoed through the Cave, followed by another death threat made by Jason and then Dick's attempt at being the voice of reason. Dear god, they needed to figure out where B was or someone might die.... or at least get maimed by his siblings be it a criminal or one of them.

Hopefully Constantin or anyone else of the JL Dark will have figured out in which dimension B had gotten thrown into.

Meanwhile...

Batman was staring down at the white-haired kid with Lazarus green glowing eyes wearing a jumpsuit and still had green splatter on his cheeks. The kid was grinning at him with big round eyes that reminded him of Dick when he was younger.

He would have believed the kid innocent if it weren't for 1. The glowing green eyes that reminded him of his second oldest phases of pit madness and 2. The fact that he had just watched the kid beat up a ghost like being he, Batman, had not been able to land a single hit on before imprisoning that being into a thermos.

The kid clearly was a vigilante in the working and for a split second Bruce wondered how his children would react to an interdimensional sibling if he mentored the kid. First of all... the boy needed more protection. That flimsy suit was not offering enough of that. Second the kid should wear a mask. Running around with his face openly in view would only spell trouble for the boy and thitd training the kid needed to learn-

"Wow dude, that's an awesome cosplay of Batman! It looks like it's right out of the comics!"

Batmans thoughts on mentoring the kid came to a screeching halt as he stared at the kid. And gruffly repeated. "Comics?"

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spidernuggets · 26 days

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Reader being Jason's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭

love your writing, btw<3

-🪩

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

"No, no, you're right, babe. Superman tops Batman for sure."

"Ah, Ms. Y/n, pleasure to see you," Alfred opens the door to see you patiently waiting with a smile.

"Hey, Alfie! Is Jay home? He asked me to hang out with him today."

"He's in the living room with the rest of the family. Come in, come in," he steos to the side, giving you to room to enter.

"Oh, yeah!" You exclaimed, reaching into your bag. "I did that cookie recipe you gave me! They're not as good as yours, but they're sure better than the cookies I've made before. D'you mind taste testing for me?" You ask, handing over a tupperware full of cookies.

"I thank you for the charming remark, Ms. Y/n. I'm sure your cookies are as excellent." He says, taking a bite from a cookie.

"Nah, now you're just being too modest, Alfie," you laugh as he does too.

"Well, this is a marvellous improvement, Ms. Y/n," Alfred says, happily taking another one. "Come on now, let's go join the others."

The two of you walk towards the living room and see everyone there.

"Y/n!!" Stephanie shouts, running over to you, embracing you in a tight hug. "Ugh, it felt like forever since I've seen you! How are you 'nd Jason? Is he being an asshole like always?" She snickers.

You laugh, and before you can reply, Jason is already pushing Stephanie out of the way.

"Don't answer that, N/n. Steph, go away," he grumbles, soon putting on a smile once he stands right in front of you. "Hey, mama," he muttered, pulling you in by the waist, placing a kiss on your forhead.

You giggled at the contact. "Hey, Jay," you kissed his chin. "Hi, Bruce!" You look over Jason's shoulder, wavung to Bruce, who was sat on the armchair, looking through the newspaper.

"Y/n, always a pleasure," he says before going back to reading.

Jason takes your hand and guides you to the couch, making you sit on his lap. "Sorry I couldn't go out for our date today, sugar. Someone wouldn't let me leave," he emphasised, glaring at Bruce.

"It's scarce that everyone is here at once, Master Jason. It's a good opportunity for bonding." Alfred says behind him.

You kiss his cheek, which makes his heart race. "It's okay, Jay. It's nice hangin' out with you and your family."

"Yeah, kick his ass!" Steph shouts at the TV.

Last night's news was playing, showing footage of Batman and Robin, and their alliances, taking out some of Gotham's frequent villains and criminals.

"Do you guys always watch the news?" You asked, curious that they aren't watching something more entertaining.

You didn't notice it, but the whole family seemed to hesitate by your question.

"The news is a suitable way of keeping us informed of Gotham's latest activities. Just in case there are needs of safety plans for us," Damian says, sitting on the chair beside you, petting Titus.

"Plus, it's good to see Batman and Robin in action. Just in case there's anything they need to improve on." Bruce mutters that last statement, sending a sharo glare towards Damian, who, last night, didn't follow direct orders and backfired a section of the mission.

Damian ignored this statement and kept focusing on Titus.

You rested your head on Jason's shoulder. "Mm. I was never really a fan of Batman and Robin."

The whole room freezes, leaving the news to continue playing, and all heads turn towards you. The sudden attention had you tensed up.

"What?" You quietly ask.

"Batman and Robin are always keeping the streets clear of crime. How can you not like them?" Damian asks with a scowl on his face.

"I don't don't like them. They just don't pique my interest." You shrugged.

"Well what about their alliances," Tim asked. "Red Robin? Spoiler? Orphan? Red Hood?"

The questioning about Red Hood had Jason's full attention on you now.

"I dunno, I guess I prefer Red Hood. He's pretty cool," your unsure opinion had Jason mentally punching the air in victory.

"But.. to be honest, I kinda like Superman over all the superheroes," you smiled.

It was the calm before the storm. You didn't think a little opinion could've caused such a ruckus.

Even Bruce looked away from the newspaper annoyed.

"Why Superman? He's only so great because he has superpowers. Batman has no superpowers and can still put so many behind bars!" Bruce exclaimed.

Subtle. Jason thought.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know that you guys like these superheroes so much!" You said, almost scared that you somehow offended the family.

Jason then kisses your temple. "No, no, you're right, babe. Superman tops Batman for sure," Jason says, narrowing his eyes and sending a snarky grin towards Bruce, which, in response, he rolls his eyes and backs away from the conversation, going back to his newspaper.

"Did I say something wrong?" You quietly ask Jason as the other begin yelling at each other about which Batman ally is better.

Jason smiles, caressing your soft face with his rougher, calloused thumb. "Nah, don't worry, sweet thing. They're just mega Batman fans."

"What about you? Who's your fave?" You ask.

"Red Hood, hands down." He immediately replies.

You nod, thinking for a moment. "Okay. I wanna see more of Red Hood then. He'll be my favourite too." You say.

Jason thinks his heart just exploded. He shifts his right arms under your legs, his other supporting your back as he lifts you up, followed by a yelp coming from you.

"Get ready, babe. You're about to absolutely love Red Hood," he says, carrying you to his room, ready to go on a 5 hour lecture about Red Hood and why he's Gotham's greatest hero.

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eldritch-nightmare · 8 months

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do the others know about you?

synopsis: you're just a human dating someone that's... well. you can certainly never introduce them to your friends or family. but do their friends/companions know about you?

a/n: is it a good idea to include every single creepypasta i can think of from the top of my head... no. will i do it anyway? yes, i will. anyways this right here is my pride and joy. i enjoyed writing it, and i'm proud of it, so i hope you guys enjoy it as well.

warnings: possessive behavior in a few, yandere behavior in a few, spoiler alert alex almost kills you but dw there's no character death here.

includes: jeff the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer [richardson + arkensaw], laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, the bloody painter, the puppeteer, clockwork, jason the toymaker, hobo heart, nurse ann, zalgo, x-virus, homicidal liu, ticci toby, tim wright, brian thomas, jay merrick, alex kralie, and jessica locke.

jeff the killer would more than likely tell the others about you, though mostly just so everyone knows that you're off limits for killing. he also just has this thing where he needs people to know what belongs to him so they know not to touch it, and in his mind, you belong to him so. none are allowed to touch you.

eyeless jack isn't that open about his personal life to others. mostly because he can't remember any of it, but also because he's just a guarded person in general. at most, the only people who know about you will probably be jeff, ben, and maybe sully.

jane richardson doesn't really hide your existence, mostly because she doesn't have contact with the others, so it doesn't matter. everyone of importance knows that you're together, and the government knows as well, so.

jane arkensaw would prefer certain people didn't find out about you, though she may tell some of her close friends about you if she's certain that they will keep your existence a secret as well. then again, it's not like you'll ever come into contact with any of the others so long as she has any say about it.

laughing jack more than likely lets everyone know about you because he literally can't shut up about you. he loves you! people need to know that he is so sickeningly devoted to you! even the kids he terrorizes know about you!

slenderman doesn't have any say on whether or not people learn about you because they're gonna find out anyways. besides, it's better if they did know about you because then they would know that you are off limits for killing. anyone who dares to even try to harm you will understand the pure wrath slender can bring down upon them.

nina the killer wants everyone to know about you. she needs everyone to know that you two are together and that she loves you so very much. she tells everyone all about the dates you two have and the gifts you get each other. it's cute, though it can be annoying at times.

the bloody painter doesn't interact much with the others, so not many of them know. helen doesn't really care if anyone finds out that he's dating you, it doesn't really matter to him. though... he will have some words if any of them try making a move on you or hurting you. you're his muse, after all.

the puppeteer doesn't want anyone to know about you, not even his proxies. you're his. no one else deserves to even know that you exist, so why the hell would he tell anyone about you? at most, the only person who knows about you would be emra because he knows that she won't tell anyone if he orders it.

clockwork doesn't let people close to her, so only a small handful of people would even know about you. she likes that none of the others really knows about you, though a part of her thinks about telling them so they know not to make you a victim. not that you'll ever become a victim, of course. she'll protect you from anything, don't worry.

jason the toymaker wouldn't want anyone to know about you. honestly, his whole thing is making sure that you belong to no one but him. you don't need anyone other than him, so why would he tell anyone about you? the others will know that he has someone in his life already, someone he'd burn the world down for, but they'll never know it's you unless they visit his toy shop.

hobo heart would be delighted if the others knew you were his. you have his heart, so it's only natural for everyone to know that you love each other, right? that's how relationships work. he doesn't really speak much with the others, but when he is around then he'll let everyone know who has his heart.

nurse ann is hardly ever around the others for them to even know about you. the only three to know of your existence is liu, sully, and helen because those are the only people she's close with. they don't need to know about you, it's not like they'll ever hurt you. trust me, she won't let them even if they were to try.

zalgo is just as surprised as everyone else that he's like... together. with you. shocks him every day, to be honest. but yes, he wants everyone to know you're his. he doesn't see you as a weakness, though he knows how fragile humans are so he makes sure you're safe from any that may cause you harm. it also sends a... delightful chill to the core of his existence knowing that everyone knows you belong to him.

x-virus basically needs everyone to know that you're together. not because he's possessive in any way, but because he needs to use this as a way to keep you with him. a tactic to keep you from leaving, if you will. with you dating cody, you're safe from harm. if you ever leave him, then you're no longer under his protection. so... stay with him.

homicidal liu is... hesitant, to put it simply. he doesn't particularly mind if the others find out, but he most certainly won't go out of his way to tell anyone. he doesn't want you involved in the darker parts of his life because he's worried about your safety. there are a few that he simply doesn't trust to know about you. sully, on the other hand, would love for everyone to know about you. he doesn't tell anyone because he respects liu's wishes to keep your existence a secret. though, he can't lie, it does make his heart race knowing that he and liu are the only ones who know about you.

ticci toby neither hid your relationship from people nor did he let anyone know about it. he's a naturally reserved person, so it wasn't like he was super open about himself with the others. in the beginning, the only one to know about you would probably be slender, but that's just because it's like... toby's boss, essentially. of course, those who were paying attention could see the signs.

tim wright would definitely keep your existence secret for as long as possible. the only person who knew about you in the beginning was brian, if we're being honest, and after all hell breaks loose, he'd do everything he could to keep you from getting involved. god forbid if jay or alex found out about you. jay would've used you to find him, and alex would've tried killing you.

brian thomas was open about his relationship with you, so everyone knew who you were. you even offered moral support to everyone filming marble hornets. of course, brian disappeared one day... and then you lost contact with alex... and tim was trying to move on with his life, so you didn't really keep in touch with him either. then jay came around, and... well. that led to a certain hooded figure watching you from afar.

jay merrick was neither open nor reserved about his relationship with you. he probably mentioned you early on in a few tapes, and he maybe even introduced you to alex when they were still friends. you'd probably be mentioned in casual conversation with tim, but ultimately it was a situation where if someone knew, they knew. and if they don't, then they just don't.

alex kralie was more reserved about his relationship with you. his closest friends knew, such as jay and brian, but that was about it. of course, once the operator entered the scene and alex started cleaning up loose ends, your life was endangered. alex... he wanted to kill you. he had to kill you. you suppose it's a good thing jay managed to find you before alex could.

jessica locke is obviously very open about her relationship with you. no need to keep it a secret, y'know? you two are like... the couple, y'know? everyone knows you're dating; you guys don't hide it. why would you two keep it a secret? there's no reason to.

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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months

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Simmer #2

CH.2 Ice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The first week at Jim’s went somewhat smoothly.

You figured out a bus that would take you out of town and to the diner when it was raining or too dark, a rusty old thing that rattled the entire journey but it meant you got there a few minutes before your shift started. The summer was still present, a growing thing that became hotter and bigger as June turned to July, the sidewalks baking, the skies an endless blue between storms that you didn’t really mind.

You got to meet the rest of the team that first morning, bumping into a girl as you made your way through the side door meant for staff. Robin was another waitress, a little blunt, really pretty and more than helpful. She took over immediately, waving away your explanation of having to report to Eddie, leading you into a back office that was crammed with a desk and a line of lockers. It took a while for her to find a key to one in a security box but eventually you had a locker, a name badge and a uniform that Robin promised was the cleanest one she could find.

It was a powder blue thing with red trim, a little on the short side for a dress and it had you pulling at the hem until it covered your thighs more. The collar was white, starchy, the apron that tied around your waist matching. Robin grinned when you reappeared with it on, straightening your name badge for you before handing you a new pad and pen.

“C’mon,” she tilted her head towards the kitchen, the smell of coffee and maple already pouring out of it. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

There was Nancy, another waitress who helped Jim manage the diner’s taxes when she wasn’t back at college in Indianapolis. She seemed sweet, a little quieter than Robin, more eager to keep her head down and garner the best tips.

Argyle was the boy you’d seen in the kitchen the day before, a smiling boy with the sleekest hair you’d ever seen. He offered a fist bump and a warm greeting, telling you to let him know of any medicinal preferences that he could help you out with. He was on prep duty in the kitchen and Robin claimed he could chop a full onion in ten seconds when he wasn’t busy eating the product.

Then there was Jonathan. A quiet guy who mostly worked the coffee bar and helped on dish duty when the kitchen was busy. He made a mean latte, you were told, and if he liked you, he’d use his special coffee beans that he kept hidden in the back.

Steve was front of house, mostly waiting tables, sometimes sitting at the rarely used host desk. Handsome and polite, he waved at you from atop a kitchen counter, already chewing on a slice of toast that he ended up sharing with Robin.

Going by the staff schedule that was pinned to a board in the office, there seemed to be more employees you’d yet to meet. A Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver and someone called William although it was scored out and had Billy written next to it. There was Dustin too, pencilled in at the bottom as a weekend busboy.

All in all, the staff at Jim’s diner were pretty cool. There was a man you hadn’t met yet, someone called Murray that was supposed to be the kitchen manager but apparently, he preferred a more work from home type of schedule. Then there was Eddie Munson.

Line cook, although in a diner this size, he was pretty much the only cook. Territorial over his kitchen, you’d been warned that the boy tended to keep to himself, liked to communicate in grunts and grumbles, and was usually perpetually moody. He had a lot of opinions over music, over food, over the right spice to use in apple pies. And he didn’t tend to take to new people, much to your dismay. The morning you arrived ready to work, Eddie greeted you with a grunt from behind a coffee cup, dumping your uniform into your arms with a name badge that had “Chicago” written in permanent marker, a sure sign that Jim had forgotten your name.

So the first week went without much talking to Eddie, you keeping to your space between the tables and him keeping to the kitchen. Music blasted through most of the shift, with the boy working with his head down, curls escaping his bun, his apron tied right around his waist. Every now and then, when you came to the hatch to collect plates and orders, you’d hear him hum along to the radio, an upbeat tune that never matched the frown on his face. And if he happened to catch you staring, well, the lines between his brows only deepened.

And despite the sour faced regulars who only grunted and held their cups out when you offered more coffee, working at the diner wasn’t the worst job you’d had. Tips were okay, Jonathan made you a latte every morning you shared a shift and the sizzle of the stoves became a comforting background noise as you pottered around the tables, smiling shyly and taking orders with the utmost concentration.

It was fine, good even. Up until your first run in with Mr Creel.

The older man frequented the diner regularly, coming in early mornings and late nights, leaving whatever job he did to spend hours at a time at the end of the diner bar. He sat under the television screen, a dead eye stare on whatever it was showing, only holding his mug out for coffee refills.

He was particular about being left alone and even more particular about his coffee being black. So when you accidentally topped the caffeine up with creamer, you finally heard the old man’s voice. He yelled something awful, his voice croaky from hardly being used, a raspy, horrible thing as he uttered ugly words.

“Stupid girl,” he hissed, knocking over the cup of coffee until the insides ran along the bar and dripped onto your white sneakers. “Are you dumb? Huh?” The man glared at you as you tried to form words, mouth tripping over an apology you weren’t sure he deserved anymore. “How difficult can this job be?”

Steve came to your aid, brow furrowed and tongue bitten as he held back the things he wanted to say to the customer. But he saw the tears in your eyes, your gaze a little unfocused and glassy, his hand on your elbow as he coaxed you into leaving the situation.

“I got this,” he muttered, a rag in hand, ready to mop up Mr. Creel’s mess as he pointedly ignored the old man’s whispered insults. “Take a breather, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t hesitate, scampering away with coffee sodden sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. You’d have to thank Steve later, the tears were close to falling and you were adamant they wouldn’t escape while you were still on the diner floor. So you barrelled into the kitchen without much thought, not bothering to yell ‘doors’ or ‘corner,’ just desperate to get out of sight. It was a slow morning, a few pancakes on the griddle, some leftover waffle batter in a bowl by the stove, another one full of eggs beside it. Apart from the sounds of food cooking, sizzles, pops, the sound of the radio, it was quiet.

Pushing your back to the tiled wall, you weren’t able to do much to escape the heat that always filled the kitchen. The back of your uniform scratched at your neck, an itchy warmth that stuck to your skin and made the tears come a little easier as Mr. Creel’s words echoed in your head. You knew it wasn’t worth overthinking - everyone had warned you that the man was a perpetual thunder cloud, always gloomy, always looking for an excuse to yell. But still, you blinked one too many times and your glassy eyes spilled over, lashes sticking together with tears as you stuttered over a heaving breath. Your face scrunched, falling with too much emotion and you made a noise akin to a whimper, a wet sounding thing that you could keep in.

You didn’t hear someone come back in from the fire exit, the brief smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the heat and the fiery barbecue scent of lunch hours brisket cooking. Eddie scowled at the sight of you by his station, back to the wall, hip pressed to the stainless steel table. Your head was bowed, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes and when he turned down the radio - just slightly - he could hear you sniff.

The boy frowned, somewhat uncomfortable, that crinkle that was always between his brows deepening. He used his wrist to sweep the hair out of his eyes and he gestured to the walk-in behind you, even though you couldn’t see. "Uh, normally we cry in the freezer."

You looked up, mortified. Your cheeks were red hot, a burn from the embarrassment of being caught and the frustration from the customer who was surely still at the bar, uncaring of the state he’d put you in.

You sniffed, swiping hastily at your cheeks. "What?"

The boy sighed, an impatient noise that Robin had already told you not to take offence to. He nodded at the freezer again, lowering the heat on whatever it was he was cooking in a comically large pot. "In there. That's where we have our breakdowns."

You stood, aimless, wondering what you were supposed to do with that information. The freezer? Wouldn't Hopper be looking for you?

The boy scrunched his face in annoyance and you thought he was going to return to his recipe, but he turned off the burner and rounded the station. He tilted his chin at you, signalling you to follow. "C'mon, come wi' me," he murmured.

It was the most he’d said to you since the day you’d turned up with your resumes and some hope in your chest. You blinked, watching Eddie stomp down the aisle between the stations, big combat boots a strange congrats to his chef whites. You ran a little to catch up, hip catching the corner of a cart filled with fresh fruit and a bowl of proofed dough, trying not to stumble into the back of the boy. You almost did when he stopped dead and pulled at the door of the giant walk-in, a wall of cold air hitting your both square in the face.

Stacks of frozen food sat on metal shelves, lines of cut meats, boxes of iced over vegetables, already cut and prepped. Eddie waved a hand inside, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath turned visible as the temperature dropped by twenty degrees, ice cold and raising goosebumps on your arms. You half expected Eddie to shut the door and leave you alone, but you were surprised when he walked in after you, the soft thump of the door closing after him.

Silence enveloped you both, the noise of the kitchen, the broken AC, the diner all disappearing. You breathed out a sigh of relief, breath crystallising between you and the boy who was eyeing you warily, wondering if you were going to keep crying. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned against a shelf and tugged a rag from his back pocket, wiping off his hands.

It was easier to breathe without the heat of the diner, the constant steam from the kitchen, the way the sun hit the windows and made the whole place too hot. The boy watched you, still cautious, waiting for your chest to stop heaving and you to stop sniffling. When you did, he peered at you through his bangs.

“Better?”

Still embarrassed, you swiped hastily at your cheeks and tried to pretend you weren’t crying, wiping the evidence of the apron that held your pad and pen- and now splashes from Mr. Creel’s coffee tantrum. “Yeah, m’fine. Thanks.”

The boy nodded, lips pressed together as if he didn’t know what else to say. Neither did you, still hot cheeked and mortified, staring wide eyed at the freezer door and for a brief second, you wondered if the rest of the diner would hear you from behind the thick freezer door if you just so happened to let out a yell. Maybe that’s why Eddie said this was the breakdown space. You guessed you’d find out sooner than you thought.

And just as you were getting ready to push the door back open, Eddie peered up at you from where he was busy inspecting a silver scar on his wrist. “Creel’s a real asshole, don’t let him get to you.”

Surprised, you stopped in your tracks and turned. The leftover tears on your cheeks weren’t quite ice, but they left cold trails across your face that felt too obvious. You pushed against the apple of your cheek once more, fingers digging in a little too meanly as you tried to get rid of the evidence that Eddie already saw. “I know,” you nodded. You sniffed again. “Just— took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Eddie nodded slowly, like he was thinking over your words. “You gotta toughen up, kid.” He swept by you, lemongrass and some cologne that was hidden behind the smell of basil and spice. His shoulder knocked yours. “Told you you wouldn’t last in the kitchen.”

—————

Some would call it stubbornness, others would call it spiteful, but you were more determined than ever to fit in and work hard at the diner. Eddie’s comment made a lasting effect on you and you tried every day to smile through the shit and be a little bolder, leaving the shyness behind with Chicago and every other failed opportunity. Plus, the tips came a little easier if you flashed a smile and some flirt.

You cleaned up the smashed burgers and soggy fries that were smeared into the floor after a family of tourists swept through the restaurant, you wiped down tables, refilled the salt shakers and when you collected orders from Eddie at the kitchen hatch, you made sure to use the towel to pick up the hot plates. The last time you’d suffered a burn, Eddie had rolled his eyes and scoffed. But when you came back for the next order a few minutes later, an ice pack was sitting waiting.

“You okay?” Robin’s side nudged up against yours in greeting at the cutlery station, familiar and friendly.

You smiled, nodding, wrapping napkins around knives and forks. Robin picked up a bundle to help and you could tell by her unsettled fidgeting, she wanted to ask something. “Are you okay?”

The girl made a face and squinted at you, all nervous charm and nervousness. “Yeah, yeah— I’m good. So good. It’s just, uh—”

You blinked, waiting, both of you moving out of the way when Jonathan appeared with a set of headphones over his ears, grinning at you both as he dumped more clean cutlery into the drawers.

“—you know how it was both of us on the late tonight?” Robin continued once Jonathan disappeared. You nodded, still sorting out the utensils, frowning when the freshly cleaned sets burned your fingertips. “Well, I kinda got asked on a date tonight and oh my god, okay, like, I know you’re new but I’ve been waiting on this girl literally forever and—”

It was easy to smile at Robin’s enthusiastic rambling, your shoulders losing the tension they usually held as you listened to her talk. “Who is it?” You asked curiously.

“It’s like, holy shit? She’s interested in me? I mean— oh.” Robin cut herself off after she realised you’d spoken. Her cheeks burned, pink covering her freckles and she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed at her own excitement. “Nancy.”

You beamed and nodded, already knowing about the flirting that went on during their shared shifts, the way Robin looked at the other girl, the way Steve rolled his eyes fondly behind his friend's back.

“That’s sweet,” you told the girl, happy for her. “You guys goin’ somewhere nice?”

“Uh, yeah,” Robin smiled, bashful, before she flicked her gaze to you again, nerves kicking back in. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask. Would you mind if I left early?” The girl gestured to the quiet diner, a little more peaceful now the dinner rush was over. “I know I was supposed to stay until close with you, but this show starts at like, nine? So I was just wondering if it’d be okay with you if I—”

You cut the girl off with a hand to her forearm, stopping her nervous gesturing. You smiled again. “Hey, it’s totally okay. I can handle it.”

She grinned, face lighting up with genuine happiness as she squealed and grabbed your arms, pulling you into a crushing hug despite the bundles of cutlery you held to your chest. But her excitement was contagious and you grinned too, happy to have made Robin happy, happier to feel like you had a real friend.

“I owe you!” She gasped, “thank you so much! You’re on with Eddie ‘til close, and maybe Jonathan? It’ll be fine! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She gushed as she pulled off her apron and rushed to the office.

The rest of the time went quietly, as did most of the graveyard shifts. Families and couples left after eight and as the evening headed towards night, the clock approaching twelve, the diner was empty apart from one lone trucker in the corner nursing an extra black coffee and a cinnamon roll. So you headed into the kitchen with the last of the plates, proud of the way you balanced all five of them over your forearms, only wobbling a little. You even remembered to call out as you pushed the door open, even though there wasn’t much happening.

The hustle and bustle had slowed to a lazy stroll, the radio still on but much quieter, another sixties song crooning from the speakers. Eddie was washing down his station, knives sharpened and put away, the stovetop grills seeping in the sink full of bubbles.

“Floors have just been mopped,” he told you without looking up. “Careful.”

You nodded, always startled when he spoke, his voice much softer than he looked. It was honeyed whisky, syrupy smooth. You managed to slide the dishes into an empty sink without much fanfare - nothing spilled, nothing smashed - and you were planning on refilling the ketchup dispenser when your stomach growled, unreasonably loud.

You clamped a hand over it, an awful flush crawling up the back of your neck that you knew too well. Embarrassed, you tried to laugh it off, avoiding Eddie’s gaze when his head shot up. Wide eyed, he appraised you, watching as you gave him a wide berth as you shot for the door. Before you could make a break for it, the cook dropped his cleaning rag and sighed.

“Have you ate?”

You stopped, almost tipping over your own feet as you spun back round to face him. You wondered if you misheard him, if he was maybe talking to someone else in the kitchen you hadn’t noticed but Jonathan was whistling outside of the kitchen hatch, cleaning down the coffee machine and no one else was on shift.

Still, you asked, “what?”

Eddie frowned, like he was upset about repeating himself. But he was already pulling a chopping board out from the racks underneath the workbench. “I said, have you ate? You sound like a dying whale.”

If you weren’t so mortified, you think you would’ve been offended. You hadn’t eaten though, not since you’d managed to shovel a bag of chips into your mouth between a bus load of tourists stopping off for a milkshake and Jim’s famous wings. But you weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to know so you shrugged, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t showing on your face.

The boy just sighed, like he always did, and gestured to a stool that sat across from his station. “Sit,” he ordered gruffly before pulling out half of a baked loaf from earlier. “You like mustard?”

“What’re you doing?” You hadn’t moved, standing shell shocked by the door, your stomach still yelling at you.

Eddie turned to you with that same frown, forever looking annoyed at your presence. Now he was brandishing a butter knife, more curls than ever escaping his bun. He really should wear a hairnet.

“What’s it look like?” He grunted. He pointed at the stool once more. “C’mon. Mustard?”

You walked over slowly, like you were approaching something wild and unpredictable. Maybe you were. The stool squeaked as it scraped across the tiles, and you eyed the boy warily as you pushed yourself onto the chair across from him. “Sure,” you mumbled, watching as he slathered slices of sourdough with mustard and a little mayonnaise.

“You should eat properly.” Eddie scowled. “You don’t eat nothin’, gonna make yourself pass out in this heat.”

You seemed to forget your shyness as you frowned right back. “How would you know?” You demanded.

Eddie scoffed and suddenly you forgot altogether that you and this boy didn’t really talk. He was rolling his eyes at you as he layered on some cheddar cheese and salami, not asking you before he added some prosciutto and lettuce. “Because you scramble in and out of here all day chasin’ your own tail. I watched you inhale that bag of chips earlier like a goddamn raccoon.”

You squirmed not loving the comparison but knowing that he probably wasn’t far off in terms of likeness. But still, your frown matched his. “I don’t scramble,” you murmured.

Eddie scoffed, a breathy, disbelieving thing that made him raise his eyebrows. He was moving around his station with a grace you couldn’t fathom, speedy and gentle with each movement. He drizzled a little honey over the second slice of bread before stacking it on top, an impressive display of flavour in each layer before he sliced it down the middle.

“Oh, yes you do,” Eddie shot back. “Like a squirrel.” He placed the sandwich on a plate Jonathan had already cleaned and pushed it towards you before deciding to add another little pot of honey beside it.

“I thought I was a raccoon?” You asked him before you could help yourself. “Thank you,” you added quickly, looking down at the plate. Your stomach grumbled again, your mouth watered.

Eddie shrugged, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “Either rodent will do,” he told you. “And you’re welcome. Now eat.”

You didn’t argue anymore, tucking into your snack with a shy sort of wariness. You’d hardly spoken to the boy before now and yet here he was, preparing you food. Just a sandwich, but it took more effort than any snack you’d ever made yourself. You took a bite, eyes closing at the flavour and you hummed in appreciation. When you opened them again, Eddie was at the sink, his back to you but you could see from the tilt of his head that showed off how he watched you from the side of his eyes.

“Oh my god—” you cut yourself off, humming again, a delighted little noise that you couldn’t help let out. “This is amazing.”

You ate until Eddie was done cleaning, using your crusts to dip into the honey, mopping up everything off your plate until it was empty, your legs swinging happily from the stool. If you were alone, you would’ve danced. You were sure you saw him fight a smile as he returned to the bench, brows raised at your full cheeks, your happy eyes, the crumbs on his once clean station.

“Squirrel to chipmunk,” he noted, gaze trailing over your face. You swallowed quickly, cheeks heating up once again and you dropped your eye line to the table as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Good?” He asked.

“Delicious,” you told him with a nod. “Thank you. Again. You didn’t have to do that.”

Eddie swung a dish towel over his shoulder and ducked his head, curls falling loose around his face and you watched as he slid his clean equipment back into their rightful place. “Was just a sandwich, no big deal.”

It was just a sandwich. But you’d soon come to realise it was something so much bigger than you’d ever have thought.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

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iguessthisisanewobsession · 1 year

Text

Jason can clearly say that becoming a halfa was the best thing that ever happened to him.

If not for the lack of green in his head now a days than it’s because of all the new material he now has to fuck with his family.

He has successfully tricked B into thinking he can stick to things like Spider-Man instead of just turning off gravity.

Damian is now much more wary about threatening people with his sword now that Jason let him cut off a hand without telling him it would grow back.

Currently, he’s slowly gaslighting his brothers into thinking he’s pregnant.

Man, he has really been enjoying his new ability to turn invisible.

Dick, flicks on the closet light: okay now that everyone’s here-

Danny: why am I here again? I’m not even adopted.

Dick: you and I both know that it’s not because B hasn’t offered in his own emotionally constipated way. Anyways we are here to discuss the elephant in the room, Tim, the board.

*Tim, whipping Sheet off, revealing a cork board with strings*

Damian: Grayson. Drake. this is getting ridiculous.

Tim: but it makes sense. Last week Jason started looking up pregnancy symptoms! He claimed they were so that he could help his girls out but then why did he use his personal computer for this “research”?

Dick: now this wouldn’t be concerning in of itself but the last few days Jason’s fighting style has changed.

Tim: he’s still being out “hard hitter” but his style has suddenly became more defensive and focused on blocking his center and core.

Dick: he has also been complaining about aching back and weight gain! He hasn’t drank in two weeks and I swear I saw a bump last night while changing!

Tim: the nausea, the dizzy spells! He was searching up doctors last night!

Damian: Have you buffoons forgotten the fact that Todd is in fact a cis male?

Danny: Actually he’s a halfa, so gender isn’t quite as strict on him anymore.

Dick: .. what do you mean?

Danny: well, ghost are just made of emotions..? So besides a core everything is just subjective preference? Sure he’s not full dead but there’s only like four of us so we don’t really have a lot of knowledge on the inner workings so..

Batfam: …

Damian: Dear lord Todd is with child

Tim: how’re we telling Bruce?

Dick: forget Bruce, HOW ARE WE BREAKING THIS TO ALFRED??

Batboys: *frantic bickering*

Danny: *fazes into the room next door*

Danny: So why did you choose pregnancy of all things?

Jason, gleefully snickering as he brings his head out of the wall: Steph made a bet that I couldn’t and now she has to run around in the scaly pants again for a week!

#dp x dc #writing prompt #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #dc x dp #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #halfa jason #mother hood au #implied mpreg

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wolfish-chan · 3 months

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More of my batfam headcanons since you guys liked them

- After Dick moves out, Alfred finds Bruce in Dick’s old bedroom staring aimlessly

- Sometimes, especially in the beginning years as Batman, Bruce has days where he can’t stand to look in the mirror because those aren’t his eyes staring back at him — they’re Martha’s

- There’s a lullaby that all of the family knows because Alfred would sing it to them on their hardest nights, even when they were adults

- Alfred has made the habit of becoming fluent in all the languages his family speaks

- Bruce tries to do the same, but he’s not nearly as fluent. There’s still a lot of proper pronunciation he can’t get right and the kids make fun of him for it constantly

- Alfred speaks with them in their preferred language as often as possible, but usually sticks to English when they’re all together

- Everyone is a polyglot, except Cass, who currently only knows English and ASL

- Cass doesn’t speak often, as she’s still not used to having the ability to, but she wants to become a polyglot eventually, too. Her brothers help her practice

- It’s become a running joke amongst Bruce’s kids that whenever Father’s Day rolls around, they make cards for Alfred instead of Bruce

- Alfred keeps every single one

- No one has any idea what Alfred’s room looks like. Stephanie is convinced he doesn’t have one and that he sleeps in the cave (“I’m telling you guys! He sleeps upside down like a bat!”)

- Bruce is impossible to sneak up on, unless it’s Cass. She likes jumping out from behind corners and spooking him.

- He doesn’t react aside from throwing whatever is in his hands into the air. One time he threw an entire cup of hot coffee in his own face without so much as blinking

- Tim absolutely despises Country music, but Kon listens to it non stop and it’s drives Tim crazy because it’ll get stuck in his head for weeks on end

- Dick and Wally love going to haunted houses together, but only the intense ones where you have to sign a waiver

- They tried to take Starfire with them once, but she knocked out one of the employees when they jumped out at her so she now has a permanent ban

- Dick used to keep those alphabet fridge magnets at his apartment, but he kept finding them rearranged to spell swears and he still has no idea who was doing it

- Tim has a photographic memory which he uses to spout off random facts when someone annoys him

- Bruce: “try that again and I bench you” 13-year old Tim: “well did you know pigeons can be trained to tell the difference between Picasso and Monet paintings” Bruce: “okay”

- All of the younger bats think Jason was the problem child, but it’s actually Dick. Bruce tells them this constantly and they never believe him

- Jason doesn’t visit the manor often, but when he does, he always makes sure no one’s home. He’ll sit in his childhood bedroom that Alfred has kept immaculately clean with all the lights off for hours. He slips out as soon as he hears someone come home

- Jason chooses to ignore that his bedsheets are always newly washed because he knows Alfred is doing it in case he ever decides to come home

- He doesn’t know that Alfred used to do it when Jason was dead, too

- Alfred only ever lets Duke wash dishes because he’s the only one he can trust not to break them

- Dick is ridiculously good at juggling

693 notes · View notes

klemen-tine · 3 months

Text

Glass Bones and Paper Skin Part 2

Platonic! Bruce x Model! GN! Reader

First Part

Part 3

Trigger Warnings: Hint at suicide, Body Issues, Eating problems (not a disorder), Child Neglect, stalking

This is more of the family side than it is of Bruce. Next part will be everyone.

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“Young Master Y/N, what a pleasant surprise.” Y/N smiled at Alfred, opening their arms and sagging in relief once they hugged the butler. The three hour car ride had been tense, with everyone asking questions and Y/N trying their hardest to be polite while not losing it. The fashion show still fresh in their mind, and the clothing Francesca had given them was gently folded and placed in the trunk of the car.

“It is good to see you, Alfred. It’s been too long.” The old man huffed, “Indeed. A year of only phone calls and cards does make it seem like it was a century ago since I last saw your face… in person.” Y/N smiled, giving Alfred a playful look before remembering where they are and how they got here.

The smile on their face became practiced, expression smoothening out as they turned to face the rest of the family who were all waiting patiently. Dick was smiling brightly, unraveling his scarf and walking forward, “Hey Alfie, you should have seen our Y/N walk. They really made the show.”

“I find it insulting they made you walk last,” Damian chimed and crossed his arms. Y/N gave him a small smile, “Being a closer is as much of a compliment as being the opener.” The young boy scrunched his nose, “I preferred the show in Paris.”

“Francesca Gabbana designed the piece, Alfred you’ll have to see it.” Tim was the one carrying the case that had the piece in it. The old man hummed, “I saw it on the television, but perhaps seeing it in person will be better.” Jason shrugged, walking in and gently nudging Y/N with his larger shoulders, “Although, did she have to make the Bat symbol just the front piece? It barely covered anything.” Y/N could see his jaw clench like the very thought of other people seeing Y/N’s stomach.

Bruce was the last to walk in, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over his arm, “Fashion designers do not care about function, only beauty.” Y/N smiled tensely, “It is a form of art.” The older man smiled at Y/N, and the model couldn’t get rid of the image of the Bruce they saw backstage.

“Of course it is. One of the most demanding forms of art as well.” Y/N couldn’t place the tone, but there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere. Alfred shuffled, “Well, dinner is almost ready. Young Master Y/N, if you want you can wash up in one of the guest bathrooms. Your room is currently being used as a trophy room.” Y/N chuckled, “Oh dear, you’re not hanging up my photos are you?”

“I did tell you I would be.” Y/N shook their head, “Thanks Alfred, but I don’t have any clothes here.” An arm swung around their shoulder, and Y/N stiffened under the sudden touch. Jason was smiling at them, “C’mon Y/N, we have some clothes for you.” Y/N felt the sudden spike again in their spine, alerting them that something was amiss and only bad things would happen if they asked questions. From how everyone was looking at them, Y/N specifically, it was like they were waiting for Y/N to ask. Impatiently waiting for that landmine to explode in front of them.

“How kind of you, I wasn’t expecting that.” Y/N jumped over it.

“Of course! How could we not have clothes ready for when our younger sibling comes home. Even though it’s been almost three years, I hope everything still fits right.” Just to land on another landmine. Y/N kept the smile on, years of being talked down to by photographers have helped them create the perfect mask of politeness.

“So, which bathroom in which guest room?” Tim stepped forward and gently guided Y/N out from under Jason’s arm and further into the manor. Y/N stayed half a step behind, taking in the gothic manor and the decorations littering the hallway.

Out of all the siblings, Y/N is closest with Tim. Not really siblings, and not really even friends, but if his relationship could be described as a length rope attached to each person, Tim’s would be the second shortest. Right after Alfred. They are close in age, and Tim was the first one to comment on Y/N’s photo when Y/N had first started modeling.

It was only once, and it may have been in passing, but Y/N had held that interaction close to their heart. The first and last comment from a sibling about their modeling. An acknowledgement of sorts, that made Y/N momentarily believe that they were noticeable, only for that to be squished that same day.

“You’re photo in the Cosmetology magazine, it looks really good. Red suits you.”

The way that color looked on Y/N was the same as how a red rose looked on a green stem; like it was always meant to be. Y/N has seen the comparisons between them and their mother. M/N L/N was a beautiful woman, with large eyes and pouty lips, the very definition of innocence. A puppy-dog look that fit so naturally on her face.

A white rose.

While Y/N had a more sultry tone, a more powerful presence, one that demanded attention.

A red rose. Not so innocent, or pure, but who can be when you see your own mother dead in the bathtub. Drug allegations and the loss of her popularity caused her downfall, and she loved her popularity more than she loved her child. Y/N finds it hard to blame her, because after they have gotten a taste of what beauty can get them, they can see why their mother got addicted to the camera flashes.

The assurance that yes, they are beautiful. They are beautiful and worthy of the cameras.

But with every camera flash, is a terrible comment. A terrible blog, highlighting their faults and insecurities. Someone dissecting every motion they made, every microexpression, ever comment.

“Here you are, Y/N.” Y/N’s attention snapped back and sure enough they were in front of the door. Tim waited patiently for Y/N to enter, “Thank you, Tim.” The young man shrugged, “Sure. Clothes can be found in the dresser and shoes in the closet.” Y/N nodded, waiting for the other to leave. Instead Tim turned around and faced Y/N, waiting for the other with a raised brow, “You’re not going to ask about the clothes?”

Y/N gulped, “I feel like if I ask, I won’t like the answer. I’d rather live in ignorance for now.” They walked past Tim, opening and closing the door, but before they saw Tim grin and a smile played out on his lips, “Smart.”

They locked the door, and when they turned around Y/N nearly collapsed. They pressed their back into the door as they stared at the room in mild terror. Their room from their condo, fully paid off condo, was present in front of Y/N. The same color palette, the same furniture, hell even the bookshelves are the same. Gulping, Y/N walked further in and when they opened the dresser, their jaw clenched and fingers shook.

The exact same clothes.

The bathroom was their saving grace, or so they thought. It didn’t look like their bathroom in the condo, save for the same colored towels. That was until they opened the shower and saw full bottles of the same brand soap, shampoo, conditioner, masks, everything.

“Just like home. It is just like home, Y/N. Only in the Manor.” They mumbled to themselves, stripping in front of the shower stall and jumping in and not even waiting for the water to get hot. They wanted in and out as quickly as possible. Washing their hair, their body, and not even bothering to do the usual masks and scrubs.

Jumping out, they quickly towel dried themselves and threw on the robe that was so familiar.

“Routine… keep to the routine…” Body lotion, while the skin is still damp so it can absorb into the skin better, followed by an oil. For the face it was a double cleanse, first an oil based then water-based, followed by toner, retinol, serums, hyaluronic acid, moisturizer, and face oil. Teeth will be after the meal, but hair…

“Moisturizer, blow dry, and then oil.” Y/N continued to mutter, trying desperately to not go crazy as the familiar brands flashed across their face and they had to use it like normal. They had too. Cause if they don’t, then Y/N knows that they will go crazy.

They don’t bother to look in the dresser again, already on the verge of having a nervous breakdown, and instead they opted to flop onto the bed. Y/N buried their face in the pillow, and tried to not think about anything. They tried to force their mind blank, just how they did on the runway.

“Y/N, are you ready?” Only it wasn’t working. Sitting up, Y/N stared at the door and contemplated answering. The carefully crafted facade was cracking and Y/N doesn’t know if they can keep the mask on any longer. From the multiple shows this week, to the shows earlier today, then this, the mask had outworn its use and now it is slowly begging to be taken off.

“One minute please.” Only they can’t. Not here. Definitely not here.

Peeling themselves off of the bed, Y/N stripped out of the robe and grabbed the first shirt they saw, underwear, and jeans. Their house slippers were right next to the dresser, and Y/N wanted to cry. All of it was getting too much and they're not sure how much longer they can be doing this.

Opening the door, Dick and Jason were the ones waiting for them. Dick grinned, “How insulting of you to look so great in only jeans and a crew neck, making the rest of us look like toads.” Y/N chuckled, closing the door behind them, “I am a model, its my job to look good in every style of clothing.”

Dick laughed, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulder he pulled the other close. Close enough that Y/N could smell the detergent used on Dick’s clothes, and body heat radiating off of the other. They started walking, Jason keeping silent while Dick chatted to Y/N, catching the other up on the past year.

“There are more to the family now, but they won’t be at dinner today. Cass is with Steph, Duke is studying, and Barbara has dinner with her own family to join.” Y/N nodded, ignoring the small sting that others can be welcomed in while they couldn’t be. Instead, they kept the conversation polite, “How nice! It must be worthwhile to have so many people here.” Dick grinned, and there was a type of sharpness to it that had Y/N squirming.

“Yeah, but it was never really a full house because not everyone was here.” A jab at Y/N, who muscled through it, “Well, modeling is a travel-heavy job. There was no time to come back.” The brothers stayed quiet, leading Y/N to the dining room table where everything and everyone was sitting and waiting patiently.

Bruce caught their eyes, and motioned for them to sit at the empty seat next to him, Tim on the other side. Y/N walked over, and took the seat graciously, trying to ignore the weight in their stomach that was making their throat close. Alfred emerged, and like the true butler he was, he began setting their plates in front of them. Perfectly made and being presented beautifully on the white ceramic plates with gold leaf designs.

Their favorite meal, one that always had Y/N running down the stairs when Alfred would announce his plans to make it, sat perfectly in the center of the plate. Its been so long since Y/N had it, no one quite makes it like Alfred does, and plus its just not really in Y/N’s diet.

But Alfred made it. Alfred put his time and effort into making it, and Y/N is not going to spit on that. Once everyone had their plate, the dinner table became loud with chatter. Just like hoow it used to be. Dick would carry the conversation for the entire table, Jason would make sarcastic remarks, Tim intelligent ones, Damian’s would be snide, and Bruce would look exhausted the entire time. However, he still partook in them, letting his kids have the family moment of conversing with their parental figure. Smiling and chuckling as he did so, Bruce tried to be that good father figure.

And Y/N just sits there. They eat quietly and think about their next photo shoot, the next trends that they need to hop on, the workout routine they need to adhere by. Questions do not get thrown their way–

“Now that fashion season is over, what are your plans Y/N?” E/C eyes blink owlishly, staring at Dick in wonder as all eyes focus on them.

“Oh, uh, um, well its normally rest season for us, but I have plans to schedule a few photoshoots, commercials, and I know Maya has been talking about me becoming a brand ambassador.” Y/N wants to keep the momentum. Y/N wants to be kept busy to get and stay away from here.

“You’re not going to rest?” Jason questioned, raising a brow and Y/N shrugged, “I plan to take a few weeks off, but modeling doesn’t really have a set time.” It isn’t a 9-5 job, or vigilante job. Y/N will have to make public appearances, showing up to Galas, grand openings, other fashion shows, fashion shoots, and a lot of traveling.

Bruce hummed, “Sounds like you’re running yourself thin.” Y/N gulped, “It sounds like a lot, but most of it is traveling and getting ready. Besides, I like being busy.” In high school, Y/N would go from school the the modeling agency where they would schedule photo shoots and commercials. Then it would be meeting with dieticians, personal trainers, estheticians, and then more meeting for future goals. The next steps.

Y/N was always busy, but so was their mother and she managed. She was a single mother and a high end fashion model. If she can do it, then there is no reason Y/N can’t.

“But there are other stuff right? Like you need to get facials to make sure your skin looks nice, and working out,” Damian chimed in, and Y/N blinked in surprise at the youngest contributing to the conversation. They smiled, “That’s not really tiring, it’s just time consuming.”

Alfred walked back into the dining room, a dessert platter in his hands, “Then it is good you will be resting here. Take a few days to enjoy being free.” A cheesecake was set down in front of Y/N, and Alfred pointedly stared at the half eaten meal. He gave Y/N a raised brow, and while the model would normally smile and reassure the man that they would eat later, their face was full of shock, “What do you mean a ‘few days?’”

Bruce wiped the corner of his lips with a napkin, “A few days. Rest here for a few days, it’ll be good for you and for everyone else.” Y/N gulped, “Why is it good for everyone else if I stay?”

“Of course it’s good for us. Family sticks together obviously, and with you running off, it really sent things haywire.” There it was again. The phrase ‘running off’ as if it was something Y/N actually did. They smiled, “You’re sounding like Tim. I did not run off, I moved out.” Bruce’s brow furrowed, “ ‘Moved out,’ huh. I didn’t realize moving out meant leaving without so much as a goodbye.”

“The things you left behind, you scheduled people to grab them and throw them out. Alfred was the one to stop them from touching your room,” Dick stated. Those blue eyes keep Y/N locked in their seat. The smile on the oldest sibling’s face was anything but kind, “It’s like you wanted to erase yourself from this manor. You left behind almost nothing that would trace you to us.”

“Not a number to call. We had to get it from Alfred,” Jason chimed, taking a bite of the chocolate mousse cake.

“Or a letter explaining where you went.” Damian took a sip of the tea.

“Or an address.” Tim gulped his cup of coffee, all of them watching Y/N. They way their sibling’s shoulders tensed and that fake smile became more and more downturned. Bruce spoke once more, “It seems like you don’t even want to be a Wayne. Taking your mother’s last name despite the controversies.”

Y/N’s smile turned bitter, “I took her last name because Wayne is more influential and I wanted to start with as little influence as possible. Plus, legally my last name is still L/N.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze, “And look how many speculations you got for drug use.”

“...Since when did you read gossip?”

“The moment my kid’s photo is attached to that piece of gossip.” Y/N is still aware of all the blogs accusing them of drug-use, the same blogs that accused M/N. People using her photos to compare their features and just cause more drama.

Y/N took a bite of the cheesecake, and the tension at the table was thick. Usually it was between Dick and Bruce, or Jason and Bruce. Never between Y/N though. Although, Y/N never spoke at the table so maybe that is why they were arguing? Can this even be considered an argument?

Alfred cleared his throat, “While talking is appreciated, arguments stay away from the dinner table.” So it was an argument. Y/N apologized to the man and took another bite of the cheesecake. Their mind filled with the workout they are going to have to do to burn this off.

++++

Alfred watched the child he considered a grandchild drink their tea, brewed in the darkness of the kitchen and now sitting at the dinner table again. While a year may not seem long, for Alfred it was. Y/N, who had been there for half a decade, had been glued to Alfred’s side. The man always taking the teen to and from school, and then sometimes to their gigs.

It was Alfred that took Y/N to their first audition to be a model, and it seems like it was only a few days before he received a call from a woman claiming to be M/N L/N’s manager, and while she may not be Y/N’s manager, her daughter will be. Alfred liked Maya. The young woman always let him know of Y/N’s gigs, she would pick the young teen up and drop him off, and she tried to be as helpful as she could. Maya was a woman born to manage models and their busy and demanding schedules.

What Alfred didn’t like, was that Maya still had the old school model critiques. Alfred gaped at the woman when she handed him a list of diets for Y/N to ‘lose weight.’ A 15 year old Y/N, who was already slender, now being told they had to be skinny but toned. A child being told that ice cream was no longer an option, and their favorite burgers were banned.

He furrowed at the training regime, wondering how agencies can expect a teenager to be toned like their already full adult models. Nonstop cardio, ab workouts, and toning exercises. Then strut practice, because if Y/N was M/N’s child, then they were made for the runway. Born to walk in front of cameras and audiences.

“If Y/N wants to be a model, then sacrifices have to be made,” Was Maya’s response to Alfred's inquiries. She assured him that Y/N would still be eating, and she encouraged Y/N to eat, but now those meals were restricted to certain foods.

Alfred watched as Y/N struggled at first, their own plate different from the others, and how the blisters on their toes and heels bled through their socks and bandaids. The old man watched as the training and strut practice became an everyday routine. Y/N walked on the wobbling plyboard, barely wide enough for one foot, and the amount of times they fell off of it. The books stacked on their head for good posture and balance, followed by walking on an incline in those uncomfortable shoes, then training the muscles to the point of exhaustion.

He had watched the child-like baby fat on Y/N’s cheeks melt off and expose cheekbones that looked tight against the skin. Y/N still looked beautiful, not more or less, but Alfred could see the exhaustion in those young eyes and how Y/N juggles modeling and being a student.

Y/N didn’t even go to their high school graduation, choosing instead to head to Paris for their first ever abroad photoshoot. That kickstarted the traveling and runway model career. Once Y/N got their highschool diploma, they were out the door and becoming busier and busier.

“I see you still drink onion skin tea so late at night.” Y/N smiled up at Alfred, “Of course. I was shocked to see that you still keep the skins.” The older man sat across from Y/N, nursing his own cup of tea “Of course. In case you ever visited, I thought it would be great to have some in stock.” Y/N gave Alfred a ‘really?’ look, continuing to sip on the still hot tea.

“I saw the piece you wore today,” Alfred started the conversation.

“It truly is a beautiful piece of work.” Y/N’s jaw clenched, “Did you know about-” Y/N waved a hand in the air, “- about Bruce calling to commission a piece?” The old man took a sip of the earl gray. Y/N shook their head, unable to be upset, “Alfred, a call about that would have been appreciated.”

“An address would also be appreciated but seeing as you have withheld that information, I saw no harm in sharing Master Bruce’s commission.” Y/N deflated, rubbing their forehead with their fingers, “Alfie-”

“You only use that name when you know you’re about to be in trouble, so you might as well just say it, Young Master Y/N.” Y/N’s cheeks blushed and their lips pouted, “Alfie, I told you that the reason I didn’t tell you my address is because I am always traveling. I’d feel awful if you showed up and I wasn’t there.”

“There’s a wonderful contraption called a cellphone, Young Master Y/N. I would call before making that trek over.” Y/N groaned, setting his cup down and trying not to crumble in front of the grandfather figure. Answering to Alfred was always harder than answering to Bruce.

“Alfie–”

“Young Master Y/N, I understand your hesitancy is sharing in your life with others. Life was lonely here, and I understand wanting to forget that. However, having only a number to call you is terrifying. What if something happens and I cannot help you?” Y/N gazed sadly at Alfred, “Life wasn’t lonely, Alfie. I had you, right?”

Alfred Pennyworth, Y/N’s saving grace and lifeline. The person who is proof that Y/N was not alone in the Wayne Manor. The butler always willing to lend an ear when Y/N vented their frustrations, and when tears escaped their E/C eyes. He is Y/N’s biggest supporter. Always buying a magazine that had Y/N in it, and he would listen to Y/N critique the pose and the facial expression. Then he would give Y/N a slice of cheesecake and compliment Y/N, in both the photo and in person.

Always reassuring the other that a cheat day will not set him back, and rest is what the body needs the most. Reassuring Y/N that their mother would be proud, that Bruce notices them, and that Y/N’s siblings do in fact love them.

“Besides, why would you even want to visit? My place wouldn’t be as grand as this–”

“It would be to make sure your fridge is stocked and that you are eating. You have always been the worst when it comes to eating, and I worry that your fridge and pantry are empty.” Alfred doesn’t have to guess that Y/N’s fridge is empty, because he knows it is.

He knows that Y/N’s fridge is empty besides some drinks, and that the pantry is only snacks. While Y/N may have the excuse of being gone for so long, traveling and whatnot, Alfred knows that Y/N does not spend a lot of money on food. Y/N spends more money on clothes, jewlery, facial and hair care products, than they do on groceries.

Y/N doesn’t even look ashamed. Nervous, yeah, but not ashamed. They sip their tea without making eye contact. Time to change the subject.

“Why is Bruce, and all the boys, all of a sudden interested in what I do?” Alfred didn’t Y/N out on the obvious change in conversation, but he let it slide. The old man sighed, “Why would a parent not be interested in what their child is doing?”

“Alfred.”

“Young Master Y/N, you have worked tirelessly to get to the position you are now. With no help from the family, you had spent your late mother’s money to audition, then to pay your managers, and now you are making it big within the industry. Is it wrong for a parent to congratulate their child?” Y/N bit their lip, “So its because I’m finally someone now? Was I not worth attention because I chose not to be Robin?”

“Young Master Y/N–”

“I don’t care about that. Like I told Bruce, it wasn’t abuse or anything, he just simply didn’t have time for me and that’s fine. I’m not mad about that.” Alfred watched Y/N get worked up, and E/C begin to shift in nervousness, “What I am talking about is why did Bruce pay off my Condo, and why does he have access to my bank account?”

Silence fell across the table. Y/N staring at Alfred expectantly, while the butler finished his tea. Once done, he grabbed his and Y/N’s tea cup and headed towards the kitchen.

“Perhaps, that is a Master Bruce question.” Y/N made a sound of annoyance, throwing themselves back into the chair and scrunching their nose. Standing up from the table, Y/N said goodnight to Alfred, and proceeded up that stairs and into dark hallways. Y/N wasn’t ready to go back to the guest room, feeling their heart rate spike whenever they thought of the replicated room.

Instead, they walked down familiar halls towards a room-now-turned-trophy room. They reached for the doorknob, but found themselves unable to open it. Y/N didn’t want to see all the photos Alfred had kept throughout the years. Rather, what caught Y/N’s attention was the lacking of doors in the hallway. There used to be two more doors on their left, but instead there was now one. The area where the second door was, was perfectly sealed and now blended into the wall.

Y/N took a deep breath, and opened the door. They used to be guest rooms as well. The two rooms had queen-sized beds and armoires for the unexpected guests that popped up. Y/N’s room used to be a guest-room, but they ended up liking the privacy because no one else’s room was around their’s. In fact, it was the guest room across from Y/N’s room that they had turned into the practice room, seeing that no one came down this hallway.

However, clearly people were not because of the renovation done.

When the door opened, Y/N sought out the light switch. The room was pitch black, and the last thing Y/N wanted to do was trip over something. Feeling around the wall, Y/N rejoiced when they felt the familiar switch and flicked it on. Once the bright light filled the room, Y/N took a deep breath. They were expecting a game room, or an indoor swimming people because that seems like something a rich person would do. Turning two guest rooms into a pool despite it being on the second floor.

Something not exactly normal, but expected.

Y/N didn’t expect this. Gone was the wall that separated the two bedrooms, making it one long room, and all the furniture was absent. No more beds, armoires, and it looks like even the bathrooms were gutted and turned into part of the room. All the tables, rugs, sofas, everything that was once in those rooms, were now gone besides the chandeliers that hung on the ceiling. Filling the room with a bright light, that didn’t fit the manor aesthetic at all, and illuminating everything that was in the room.

While the furniture was gone, the room was not empty. Mannequins lined the walls, on their own podiums and glass cases. While seeing them bare would have been scary, seeing them dressed in the clothes that Y/N had worn on the runways was more terrifying. Y/N, in the runway season alone, walked 86 shows. That is the runways season alone, not including the other smaller shows they have done since graduating high school almost a year ago.

These weren’t all of the clothes they have worn, there was still a large amount and they were the most iconic pieces. Pieces that a designer would never want to give someone.

Y/N walked further in, taking in the first mannequin on the right, and they noted that the mannequin looked eerily similar to Y/N. Only missing the facial features and hair, but it looked like the proportions were almost spot on.

The plastic doll had on the outfit from a runway show earlier in the year, when Y/N walked for Versace. A simple long blazer with deep V cut, stopping mid-thighs where only an inch of skin was shown before thigh boots bedazzled in gold, diamonds, emeralds, and other precious jewels took over the rest of the legs. The earrings they wore were poked into the mannequin's own ears and the bracelets hung off the dainty wrists. In the glass case, next to the mannequin, was the photo taken of Y/N when they were walking.

The next case was a piece they wore when walking for a newer fashion-designer, one that Y/N did for free just to get to their name out there, and the piece was a gorgeous suit, dyed a beautiful vermillion red that had the slighted shimmer of gold in it. Y/N’s runway photo was once again next to the mannequin.

The entire room was full of these iconic runway looks, with Y/N’s photo right next to them, and they surrounded all sides of the room and some of them in the middle. Almost like an art gallery of sorts, and Y/N looked at every single one of them. Not in amazement or judgment, but more of horror.

Y/N knows some of these fashion designers. They have known some of them since they were a child and watching their mom get fitted by these exact same designers. No matter how much she begged, they would never let her take one of their creations home. These clothes were meant to be either safe-guarded in a museum, in their own collection, or in some cases bought by a celebrity and worn to an award ceremony as advertisement.

In other words, Y/N knows that some of these designers would rather gnaw off an arm then give away their precious creations. Yet, here some of those precious creations were, hanging on the mannequin shaped like the model.

In the center of the room, like it was the main show, was the Batman-inspired piece. All that was missing was the photo, which wouldn’t be published for another few weeks.

Taking a deep breath, they stared at the reflection in the gold-plated bat. They were trying to process all of this. It’s one thing to have photos, because Y/N is a model and photos are expected, but to have the actual clothes they wore. Clothes that Y/N knows the designers would kill for, dressed on mannequins that looked almost exactly like Y/N was another thing.

Y/N backed out of the room, turning the lights off and shutting the door silently. They stared at their own door, sweat beginning to break out on their forehead, and they went against their instincts and opened that door.

A trophy room, Alfred had said. The walls are decorated in their photos, and the bed is still as immaculate as the day they left. Turning the lights on, Y/N couldn’t help but to smile as the time capsule in front of them. From their very first photoshoot, when Y/N was a gangly 15-year-old with still chubby cheeks, to the most recent photoshoot of a now 18 almost 19-year-old Y/N. Their confidence can be seen in their pose and gaze, something their younger self lacked.

Y/N walked closer to the walls and looked at all the different photos. Some candid, some posed, some in the water, and there’s one where they are in Greece. Some had Y/N fully clothed with barely and inch of skin, and some were of Y/N with barely an inch of clothes. From makeup, to shoes, to perfume, to clothes, Y/N’s photo was pinned on the wall or framed.

A photo caught their attention though. It wasn’t one from a website, or a magazine, but an actual photo. Y/N looked closer, and they recognized the set from when they were 16-years-old posing for an editorial magazine.

However, the angle in which this photo was taken from, Y/N knows there were no cameras there. All the cameras were in front or on the side, not behind. Another photo caught their eyes, and it was the same thing. A photo from behind.

Once they started looking for them, Y/N could begin to spot them all. Photos that they know no photographer took. There was one that had their blood chilling and fear rising in their chest. It was a photo, taken at night and through one of the windows in Y/N’s condo. Y/N had one wall in the living room that was basically all windows, letting in the morning sun and led out onto the gated terrace. It was high enough that they had no neighbors that could look through those windows.

In the photo, Y/N was wearing their pajamas and their hair still looked wet. They were sitting on the counter of the island in their kitchen, eating raspberries and watching Youtube on their TV. It was such a close photo, close enough that the reflection can be seen in the glass.

Y/N recognizes the blue and black, and when Y/N’s eyes drifted to another photo of them in their home, bile rose into their throats. The morning sun illuminated the warm neutral color palette in the living room, and Y/N was out on the terrace sitting at the patio table they had set up out there drinking a cup of coffee and reading a book. They had their shirt off, exposing ribs pulled tightly against skin and abs that remained toned even when Y/N wasn’t flexing. The shorts they had on exposing soft skin and pedicured feet, their slipped laid forgotten under the chair they were sitting in.

They recognize that book. It was a book they read in the height of summer, meaning that this photo was taken half a year ago, when it was okay to sit outside in the warm summer mornings and let the skin begin to circulate.

What chilled Y/N even more was that whoever took this photo was on their terrace with them. They were on Y/N’s terrace, and Y/N didn’t even know. The Wayne family has known Y/N’s address the entire time. They knew where Y/N was staying, they knew Y/N’s photoshoot schedules, and they knew Y/N better than Y/N thought they did.

“I didn’t think you’d come in here.” Y/N’s head whipped around and there was Dick, or Nightwing, still in costume and smiling at them.

“The hell is this?” Y/N held up the photo of them on the terrace, and Dick shrugged, “I’ll admit, those photos we took. But we didn’t take the other ones.”

“What other ones?” “The ones of you at the photoshoots. I know you saw them, but we didn’t take those.” Y/N glared at Dick, and pushed themselves close to the wall as Dick walked in. Damian was right behind him. The oldest brother walked to the photo that originally caught Y/N’s attention, “You had a stalker, can you believe that? He took hundreds of photos of you, and all we did was make him stop.”

Y/N’s lips pursed, “How do I know you’re not lying?” Dick unpinned the photo, and with Damian’s help, trapped Y/N against the wall next to the photo of them outside. He held up the photo, “Because, Y/N, as you can see we prefer more… candid photos then staged.”

Y/N snapped, “There is nothing candid about that photo! That is an invasion of privacy! Trespassing! So is that one!” They pointed to one of them sitting on the counter. Damian grabbed their arm, and Y/N wanted nothing more than to shove the kid off.

“And so is that one.” Dick pointed to one of Y/N wearing only a large shirt, a towel around their shoulders as they walked into their kitchen.

“And that one.”

“That one there.”

“There’s that one too.” Y/N looked at all the photos, hidden next to the magazine photos, and they were all of them in their home. Horror morphed on Y/N’s face when there was one photo of Y/N in the bedroom, in the midst of taking their shirt off.

Dick continued to smile, and Y/N could see Jason and Tim peeking in from the doorway.

“You did a lot on your own, Y/N. You built a name for yourself, became a highly sought after model, it really is amazing.” Dick walked closer, “But you know what all of those photos have in common?” Y/N stared into blue eyes, terror swimming in those E/C eyes of theirs.

“You aren’t even aware of your photo being taken.” The truth unsettled Y/N enough to try and squirm out of Damian’s grip and to get away from Dick. They didn’t need to be pointed out. Y/N is aware that in every photo taken without their permission, they were not once aware of it. Even when they looked like they would be only a few feet away, Y/N not once looked bothered. Y/N doesn’t even remember that feeling of being watched.

Tim and Jason stepped in the room, making it seem crowded and even if Y/N got out of Damian’s grip, there was no way they were getting past all of them.

Large hands gripped Y/N’s forearms, feeling like they would bruise the skin if Y/N struggled.

“So tell your big brother Y/N, how do you expect us to trust you on your own when you can’t even notice someone on your terrace?”

________________________________________________________

Part 3 is coming soon....

#batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #batfam #batman x reader #bruce wayne #platonic batman #platonic batfam #yandere imagines #gender neautral reader #batman x gn reader #Yandere batman #batfam x male reader #Batfamily x female reader #Batfamily x gender neutral reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 24 days

Note

Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭

I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.

Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.

He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.

It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.

Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.

Alfred excused himself from the room.

Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.

Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)

That’s literally the title of his presentation.

‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.

‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.

Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.

Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’

Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.

‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.

Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’

‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.

‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.

‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.

Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’

‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.

Dick: pouty baby.

What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!

For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.

He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.

Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.

Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.

Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.

Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.

And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.

The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.

(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)

After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’

Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’

Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’

You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.

‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’

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ryoalouette · 9 months

Text

So. A fren in Discord have an idea...

But she doesn't have a Tumblr account. And she wants this idea to be out there so I volunteered ig lol. This idea belongs to Machi.

Idea: Danny creates a passport for ghosts which allow them to go to earth for a limited time. Walker accepts that it would be within the law to travel with a passport and besides, most people usually need a day or two to see their loved ones one last time before moving on (which is beneficial for everyone bc less chances of them becoming ghosts). Ofc there are exceptions like Ember who got a special permission for a summer tour or team Phantom that goes in and out as they please. Queue to the next time a hero dies they are welcomed by an administrator who greets them with a "reason of your visit?" and "How long do you plan to stay in our dimension?"

---

Me:

Tho like. If that happens before Justice League be like.

Jason's Pit Madness is directly tied to this passport rule: his ghost recognises that he's breaking an interdimensional law and he'd be dead dead if Walker catches him. But his body doesn't know that.

Basically sending SOS signal during Pit Madness that no, this ghost Robin doesn't intentionally break the rule Walker, I don't want to be a freaking fugitive and be barred from Ghost Writer's lair for centuries but my body doesn't recognise that I want to fix this issue (preferably without dying again, thanks) pronto

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #idea #prompt #Tumblr do your thing

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