#but I can't stop thinking about that clown hidden in there

[animeyanderelover]

I've just recently finally gathered the courage to buy a horror manga from Junji Ito and I've gone for Tomie and now that I've actually started reading it, I just can't stop thinking about having a female s/o based on a similar concept. Someone who has the uncanny ability to make people obsessed with her if they spend enough time with her and who always regenerates no matter how cruel her deaths are by the hands of very same people who fell victims to her strange powers and claimed to adore her.

After years of enduring death and obsession in an never-ending cycle again and again, I can only imagine how jaded and morbid reader would be with everything. She has fully embraced her cursed existence at this point because there is literally nothing she can do about it so at this point she has turned it all into a game. Every time someone else falls for her, she's basically playing the 'what Yandere type are you going to be?' in her head as she has seen it all. She has seen the possessive, the obsessive, the delusional, the overprotective, the clingy, the submissive and dominant, the worshippers and the sadists.

Reader can only sit back and watch with a mixture of pity and amusement in her heart as her newest victim is molded into another obsessive freak that she will live with and indulge their every whim for as long until they snap and she will die yet another death at the hands of her supposed lover.

There are a few worlds where I think such a reader would be especially interesting to let loose (by the way, there are spoilers for Chainsaw Man if you are an anime only):

In Hunter x Hunter I have two headcannons for a Tomie reader. Either she has a Nen ability. Considering that her mere presence would twist and change everyone's emotions as well as considering her regeneration abilities and other things she can do with her body, she'd either be in possession of two nen types which would be Transmutation and Manipulation or she would be a Specialist

The headcannon I consider to be far more intriguing though would be if reader would be a humanoid creature who originated from the Dark Continent but somehow found her way to the Known World. Imagine the Hunter Association or the Known World Government finding out about your existence and hiring skilled Hunters and assassins to track you down and murder you before your abilities could cause any panic.

Imagine Chrollo and the Phantom Troupe catching wind of the situation that is currently being hidden from public. Chrollo, who would be instantly intrigued to track you down and see for himself what a creature from the Dark Continent is capable of and who would keep you as his most priced treasure the moment the troupe has finally found you after searching for you for a long time. Who has to share with the rest of the Phantom Troupe as your mere presence eventually gets to them too, to some sooner than to others and who notices your mild surprise that they actually work together insted of slaughtering each other, something you must be used to seeing. Chrollo, who shares with you experiences in the Known World and adores listening to your stories about the Dark Continent where you were born.

To make it even more interesting, let's assume that you are caught and kept around the time Hisoka has infiltrated the Troupe. Hisoka, the only member Chrollo doesn't trust to leave you alone and neither do any of the other members. There are usually at least two other spiders with you when Hisoka is around but the clown takes it with slightly infuriated amusement as he gives brief glances in your direction, patiently waiting for the day where he can keep you for himself. He has to give it to Chrollo after all, the man knew just how special you'd be when he decided to go after you. He can't wait to steal you away right under the nose of the criminal~

Another possible scenario would be that the Zoldyck Family is hired to hunt you down and capture you as they were informed that you are akin to an immortal being. Imagine Illumi spending months tracking you down and successfully capturing you, though that is only because you do not resist when he finds you, only to never hand you over to the government. Instead he keeps you, black eyes staring fascinated at you whenever he sees you, his cold skin tingling whenever he touches yours, his chest clenching with a sensation he can't quite grasp. He only knows one thing though. That he needs more of whatever it is he feels when he sees you and touches you.

I've already explored this world with a Tomie reader before in this post but Jujutsu Kaisen would literally be perfect because reader could literally be the enbodiment of the curse of obsession which could be used to explain her immortality. No matter how many times she is killed or even exorcised, she will be reborn for as long as people obsess over someone else, no matter how superficial or deep their feelings really are.

Suguru would be an interesting choice that I didn't talk about in the Hc's I linked since he uses Cursed Spirit Manipulation to control curses. The question would be though whether or not Suguru would be able to exorcise and consume you to enable him to gain control over you and summon you at any given time he wishes. Ironically enough a relationship with you in a scenario where you would be a curse would probably be better for you than if you were human since Suguru doesn't look down on you nor would he judge you for your nature as it is the negative emotions of humans from which you were created. You have shared with him some stories of the past where you were murdered from non-sorcerers when they lost control due to your powers and it only fawns his hatred against the monkeys. There are always sweet promises whispered into your ears that he'll never hurt you like they did and you can only wait half-interested whether or not he will remain true to those words.

We could also go way back in time to the Heian Era and simply crown you as the Queen of Curses who stood by Sukuna's side as obsession over someone else is as ancient as the concept of love in all its twisted and radiant forms itself. For a curse to be so strong that it can even influence other curses would stir Sukuna's interest, though he never expected to fall under your spell himself. He is somewhat displeased that his resistance is that weak as he has had multiple women warming his bed before he consumed them and enjoyed their flesh yet he knows that you are a being that will be reborn even if he kills you. Now that you have done it and seduced him though, he'd much rather have you pay the price for it. From now on you shall be his queen. When he is sealed away, you go into hiding. You feel no deep grief in the centuries that follow, though Sukuna has certainly been more memorable than the thousands of other people that follow him, one as bland as pathetic as the next one. It isn't until the 21st century that Sukuna is finally reincarnated into Yuji's body, thrilled and excited about this chance to finally live again. Now he only needs to find his Queen again...

As someone who just recently finished Chainsaw Man, in this universe the reader could just be a devil who has the form of a young woman. You'd probably also assume the role of the Obsession Devil in that scenario and whilst you could just be a wild devil, I think it'd be much more interesting if you actually work sort of together with the Devil Hunters without being locked away like some other devils are. It's rather rare for you to make contracts yourself even if multiple Devil Hunters have willingly offered limbs, senses and much more to you to form a contract with you as you only accept a contract if you are actually interested in a Devil Hunter. Instead you find yourself often negotiating with other devils to convince them to form contracts with Devil Hunters as your influence to make people infatuated with you even affects other devils.

Extreme femme fatale vibes and interesting scenario would be if it is Makima aka the Control Devil herself who is no exception to your abilities. What would make this so unique would simply be that Makima is, just like her devil suggests, someone who represents the fear of conquest and is a woman who is always in control, no matter the situation. That would so very much contrasts with the fear you represent since an obsession is rarely something that can be controlled and both of you are aware of her feelings she harbors for you. You have little capacity to care about people around you as years of living through the same events again and again have made you jaded towards the very idea of attachment and love but perhaps it is the uniqueness of the situation that perks your interest as she can tell that you are testing the waters with her. Are you willing to play the game with her? You should be prepared for the possible consequences if your answer is yes.

Kishibe is one of the few people who you have ever approached and asked for a contract as he caught your eye when he first joined and decades later he takes pride in the fact that he is the one you have held a contract with for the longest time. Your condition for a contract have always remained the same. The moment the Devil Hunter you were contracted to would stop being interesting to you, you wanted his heart and until that point, you would assist them whenever they desired your help. Some sane people would consider those conditions as nothing short of lunatic yet a Devil Hunter rarely survives if they do not belong to the crazy kind and the first time you approached him, he could already tell why you were as desired as you were by many Devil Hunters. Kishibe has survived for as long as he did precisely because he is a madman and that is why your interest in him hasn't faded to this day. You fulfill his every wish in this contract yet he has held himself back in comparison to some of your previous Devil Hunters, though some things are always the same. Like the few other Devil Hunters who had a contract with you, he proposed to you and it isn't the first wedding you went through yet it is the first time you have let a contract last as long to the point where both of you already had a silver wedding to celebrate 25 years of marriage. You're going to miss this one the most when his time comes...

In One Piece a reader with such mysterious abilities could of course be suspected of having eaten a Devil Fruit but I personally would like you to instead be an ancient being that, according to rumors, originated from somewhere in the New World, though nothing about you has ever been revealed. Throughout history, you have only gotten yourself involved a few times yet whenever you did, you were the demise of entire nations yet the full extent of your powers remains as shrouded in darkness as the rest of you. Only the highest-ranked people in the Marine and are even aware of your existence and the World Government has been after you ever since they were established. Not only are your powers frightening but it is also the knowledge that you hold that has made you the most dangerous being in the Grand Line.

You have watched history unfold in front of your eyes, know about the Ancient Weapons and other events that occured throughout time that no one is supposed to know, know even about the darkest secrets of the Navy and know exactly where the proof for their hidden atrocities lies that would ruin their reputation. Whilst the citizens on every island do not know of your existence, in the Grand Line exist tales of you that parents commonly tell children as bedtime stories where you are usually portrayed as a monster. You know of that but you do not care as an existence as long as yours has taught you best that you are not even remotely a human, though your appearance may fool others into thinking otherwise.

I'm not quite sure yet about individual characters in One Piece yet but since I just recently finished the Marineford Arc, I can't help but imagine that after essentially centuries of laying dormant and only being a silent watcher, you finally decide to take an active role when news of Fire Fist Ace's public execution reaches you. Your eyes and ears are everywhere, you always know what is happening in all different oceans after all, no matter how much the Navy may try to hide it from the rest of the world. Though the news of the execution are not kept as a secret this time and reach ears on every island throughout all of the seas. There are no heroic motives though as you make your way. You're just simply bored and decide that messing with the Marine, the pirates and all the people who will watch it all unfold might be amusing and provide some thrill, even if only temporary. The world is certainly going to shake when they find out that the monster from the fairy tale has always been there yet those who will be exposed to your aura on that day will probably go out of their way to chase you down, pushed by their ever-growing obsession. You do not mind. It has been way too long since you've been entertained by them after all. You're just hoping that at least a few of them will prove to be more than yet another waste of your time...

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Bestie I NEED to hear your thoughts about Harley and Bruce possibly being secret twins 👀👀👀👀👀

Been thinking about this for WEEKS i fear!!!! This came right as 'rona dragged me down I'm sorry this took so long!!!

I don't know or care about how secret twins happens, what happens in the bedroom of Thomas and Martha and Alfred Pennywayne is NONE of my business unless they invite me which is fine btw

since they're fraternal twins they COULD TECHNICALLY have different dads. am I saying Alfred is Harley's bio dad perhaps and the clown is going to have empty space where his head used to be but I digress. This explains SO MUCH I feel but also we should in no way think that the parents know this. They don't know nor care because THAT IS THEIR BABIESSS. it would probably be Bruce and Harley finding out when they're forty or something because someone needs a kidney. They purposefully forget the information. They don't need it.

And as insufferable as Thomas is with Baby Brucie can you IMAGINE how AWFUL he would be as a Girl Dad tm. I am thinking of your "if you detain one you detain both I KNOW MY RIGHTS" post but with two children!!. Also Thomas would be THEEE cattiest mfer amongst the other dance moms. My god Alfred and Martha would never know peace. Also a million zillion pictures of each parent konked out while holding 2 sleeping toddlers, THINK on it I beseech thee it's so cute. (But then, Thomas accidentally saving/kidnapping Harley from the park and Bruce and Harley INSISTING they are identical twins. Everyone is like no you really aren't until Thomas gives them the most murderous look known to man over their tiny heads. VERY funny when Jason and Cass also do this)

Maybe Harley was very very sickly as a baby and they kept her a secret to keep the press away. I can see family not talking about Martha's pregnancy AT ALL particularly if it was high risk in any way like she would be visibly pregnant due any day and someone would ask her if she was excited about the baby and she would deadass say 'what baby'.

The ideal scenario the Pennywaynes have for their offspring is that they keep the bambini hidden. as far as the press knows one day 18 year olds pop up outside the Wayne Manor as fully formed scions to the empire. You've never heard of them before? GOOD. That was the point.

Also the DRAMA, the ANGST, I think this makes sense with Bruce's weird dynamic with the Joker (though this could work with just siblings ig)?

Bruce doesn't want to kill the person his twin loves because it would hurt his twin, who HE loves. And killing the Joker could result in Harley hating him! Bruce trying so hard to be supportive for Harley and just be there for her so when she finally decides to leave the Joker she knows Bruce has her back.

Bruce knowing all the stuff about what support systems do that helps and hurts victims of intimate partner violence so he's always playing this balancing act of what he feels like he can say/do about him before it affects Harley. And it being his self given job to stop the Joker from doing HIS self given job. If he helps Gotham he hurts Harley. If he tries to help Harley, he hurts Gotham (does very interesting things to the brainworms when thinking about Jason's murder! about why Bruce feels like he can't or shouldn't go after the Joker--because he's proven he will kill a child and use their mother to get them, that is not a man above using his partner to hurt his nemesis!!! and that would be a whole thing for Bruce, he doesn't act because he's genuinely terrified, worried that if he fails he'll lose harley too

idk if the Joker would know about Harley and Bruce being related or Bruce being Batman but I could see this being the turning point for how Harley views the Joker. Like, she'd been going over to the Manor to help Jason talk through his feelings every month for years. Would it have mattered if the Joker knew he was her nephew?)

Also makes the weird sexual tension Bats has with the Joker even weirder if he IS aware of their relationship. He'd be so gross about it. Yes the Joker wants the Wayne twins. He flirts with them in front of the other to piss them off, mostly Harley. Would highkey lie and say Bruce was flirting with him to drive a wedge between Bruce and Harley oh my god I went such a not fun direction with this

Identical twins could be very funny if they were separated at birth no i do not know why they would be separated just roll with me. the one that does not transition is like "why do you have a picture of me as a kid this is creepy what do you mean that's you' . Everyone at college is like ha ha you two look like you could be related! You do the same icky face when you eat pineapple. They dOn'T sEe iT

Maybe she was kidnapped (by like a very young deathstroke or something idk) and SOMEhow Oswald Cobblepot winds up with this feral toddler in his possession. A goon made a terrible life choice perhaps? And Ozzie is just an up and coming crime lord, still settling into the family business, how tf is he supposed to know the Waynes are missing THIS child? if he knew don't you think he'd be extorting people??? I think they could have some very fun and adorable Stacker Pentecost and Mako Mori vibes this man has NO idea how to raise a child but by god!! He will do it right!!! Literally nobody knows about her, he would have people killed for suspecting her existence.

But also take your daughter to work day??!? Harley yelling at incompetent goons in a sweet baby voice. Ozzie is SO PROUD of her, he wouldn't have minded her going into the family business but she's going to be a doctor!! He is just a proud papa!!! Fearsome crime lord The Penguin with sparkle pink nail polish and bows stuck to his head having a tea party with Lil Harley.

I think this is ALSO interesting with the Joker!! I would love if the only reason his dumb ass wasn't taken out the moment he stepped foot in Gotham was because he's Harley's Boyfriend. The only thing stopping the rogues from turning on him is that Harley likes him!! Is he the Gotham version of a crypto-finance bro?

What if it's an older Harley who is kidnapped? Like post Thomas and Martha shooting. It's part of what cements Bruce's notoriety as the Last Wayne. (Everyone asks if he can sense her through their Twin Bond and he gets sooooo mad that's not a real thing!!!! He feels so guilty because if that was a real thing, shouldn't he be able to find her? Shouldn't he know????)

Cut to Batman and Joker in a showdown and there is Harley and Bats CAN'T STOP STARING?!??? why does she seem so familiar? The Joker notices of course and starts saying some very crass things but the IMPORTANT part is that at some point Harley mentions not minding beating up on Batman because she once had a baby brother who was terrified of bats, so she's doing this for him!!! And Bruce is like wait I once had an older sister and I'M afraid of bats?!?!

Harley looks at him REALLY HARD and all of the sudden she's screaming "BABY B????" and roundhouse kicking the Joker into some metal oil drums. NOBODY beats up her baby brother!!!!

The rogues go fucking insane

(the age thing. Harley is technically a day older than Bruce. She was born at 11:50 PM and he was born at 12:05 AM. They make older sibling/younger sibling jokes all the time and think they are very funny. The Batkids would disagree)

[commsroom]

What is it you love so much about Eiffel? Asking as a fellow Eiffel Lover, I'm just interested in your response!

i've been holding onto this one for a while, in part because i know there's no complete answer to this and i could probably just talk forever, but it's almost his birthday, so... in the spirit of dougmas:

what i love about eiffel as a character is that he feels like a real person. he's full of these very human contradictions: he's a coward, he can be exceptionally brave, he's considerate and thoughtful, he's got his head up his ass, he's a mediator by nature, he's frustratingly stubborn and will dig his heels in about the pettiest things, he's very technically capable, he's a master of weaponized incompetence. he's stupid in ways only a very smart person can be, and has a certain kind of self-hating self-centeredness. he has very firmly held morals and wants to do right by people, and he struggles to reconcile those beliefs with the unforgivable things he's nonetheless done; he has very real and serious flaws that the narrative doesn't flinch away from, but neither exonerates nor condemns him for. he's so entangled with the heart of the show, its themes and relationships, that you couldn't have wolf 359 without doug eiffel, and - as a friend of mine once said - if you put eiffel in any other show, he'd turn it into something resembling wolf 359 as well. and as gabriel urbina said about pan-pan: "he's the communications officer; without him, they stop communicating." he's a compassionate portrayal of an addict, and a very real and nuanced example of a kind-hearted man who's still used to thinking of himself as the "default" kind of person, and is still learning how to deconstruct the biases that come with that.

what i love about eiffel as a person is that he's someone i'd want in my life. he's a very sincere and emotionally honest person; he doesn't have hidden agendas, and you know exactly where you stand with him. he hates authority, he hates work, and he won't suck up or pretend otherwise - in fact, he'll create more work for himself if it means he can avoid doing his job, on principle. if he has a grievance about something, oh, you'll know. at the same time, he has this infectious enthusiasm about the things he loves, and the things that excite him, and he's a geeky guy into primarily 80s/90s nostalgic media who doesn't feel the need to gatekeep. i love his voice, i love how expressive he is, i love how you can hear the same mannerisms you can see in the live show just in the very open-body-language way he emotes. he has a very distinct former class clown type of energy, and i think that goes hand in hand with an underlying loneliness. he can be pretty clueless, he speaks before he thinks and has chronic foot-in-mouth disease, but… doug eiffel is the kind of person who would notice if someone was standing alone in the corner at a party, and would go out of his way to make them feel included. he's good at getting people to open up, even if it's in spite of themselves, even if it's while they're rolling their eyes at him. he's a staunch pacifist who - even when things piss him off - doesn't react to conflict with violence or threats of violence, and he can't stand to have things stay bottled up: if there's one thing eiffel wants everyone to do, it's talk about it. whatever it is. he has a good balance of traits that make him feel genuine and warm without coming across preachy or suspiciously softened; he's also very much still a gross dirtbag with a lot of annoying flaws typical of some average guy, and that's a huge part of his appeal to me. he's good with his hands. he likes building stuff and taking things apart. he's rough around the edges in ways that reflect his life experience, and he's just… a guy who has lived a life, who has a lot of life experience, but hasn't made a lot of true friends in the process. he's gotten used to being lonely, and gotten used to telling himself he's fine with it, and something in me really aches for that.

his birthday is a good - and timely - example: he's a man in his 30s still holding onto childhood hurt, having his birthday forgotten and overshadowed by christmas. i'm also a christmas hater, so it's nice to have something else to celebrate and prioritize, and i like imagining his disgust at all of the unavoidable holiday trappings; it makes me feel less alone. i wouldn't say i relate to eiffel, more that i feel we have compatible issues, and it's not a secret that he's the type of guy i find attractive. he feels like a real person that i already know and love, and at the same time he's representative of the kind of person i'd like to know, like his life would fit comfortably into mine.

[seabirdtxt]

It's been a while since I made a request to a blog, but I really enjoy your writing, and your AUs got my brain going with ideas (especially the Glitch AU). It has me thinking about how our favorite little Puppet boys would react to some of the... interesting hobbies I have: two of those being things like Doll making/repainting, and cosplaying/ general fantastical costuming.

I feel like both of these hobbies have the potential to lead to both hilarious situations and moments of being a bit... perturbed at best (especially doll making: the random assortment of doll limbs being places, or having naked dolls that are precariously hung from the ceiling to finish drying from paint jobs).

I do know that at least Kabukimono and Wanderer (Scara might have forgotten since he hadn't used the skill in a long time, and Wanderer likely relearned it) know how to sew, so the sewing part could be cute bonding time.

Could be platonic or romantic in nature: both would be fine. And also, fully understand it will probably take you time to get to this, of you even get to it at all. I just appreciate you taking the time to read this request~! Can't wait for your next bits of work: hope you have a wonderful day~!!! 💕💕💕💕

hey!! thanks so much for your request!! this was a funny idea bc i can't imagine any of scara's iterations being any good at collaboration but for all separate reasons lmao

I'm not too knowledgeable about doll making but hopefully you like this anyway :D i wrote it as a bit of a glitch!AU spinoff in my mind, but feel free to imagine any other scenarios these three clowns might come together for hahaha WC. 1.3k

----- ⚘ -----

When the three puppets were told not to enter your room and disturb your hobby workstation, this isn’t what they had in mind. Wanderer thought maybe you did something embarrassing as a hobby, Scaramouche thought it might be something potentially dangerous especially if you intended to keep it a secret from them, while Kabukimono was certain that you did some sort of artistic craft that you preferred to keep hidden until the end product was finished.

All three of them were right, in some way or another. 

The three of them stand in your workshop, staring in horror at the dozens of separated doll components you’d strung up around the edges of the room. Scraps of tiny, doll-sized outfits were scattered around your desk, and a half-painted doll head was mounted on some sort of device in the middle of the chaos. The doll’s single painted eye watches their trespassing with silent judgment.

You’re glad you find them out so soon, and you have exactly three seconds to stop them from touching anything in the workshop.

“WhatareyouguysDOINGinhere?!” Nailed it. 

Kabukimono leaps a vertical foot into the air out of fright at your sudden and shrill outburst, while the other two react in more subdued manners before turning around to face you, standing in the doorway behind them. Your arms are outstretched, palms forward, and you’re braced as though you’re anticipating some sort of impact.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You warn. “Not all of these are dry, and if you smudge anything I’ll have to restart them.”

“Why do you have a bunch of dismembered doll corpses?” Scaramouche asks, jerking his thumb at the precariously hanging doll components.

“A seller in Inazuma asked me if I could help him finish a few dolls, since I told him I used to do it as a hobby back in my world.” You explain, not dropping your guarded position. “If any of you want to eat dinner this week, I suggest you step away from the dolls. Slowly.”

“Can you not call them that?” Kabukimono complains to Scara as the trio carefully shuffle out of your workshop. “They’re not corpses, they just haven’t been put together yet.”

“Well, they aren’t alive either, so what’s your point?” 

“If you need some help completing them, I can pitch in.” The three of you look wide-eyed at Wanderer, who seems to immediately regret making the offer. He shrugs and looks away quickly. “Or not. Whatever.”

“I’d love some help,” you start hesitantly. “But what did you want to help with?”

“I can sew the clothes, I guess.”

Scaramouche’s nose wrinkles at this statement. “You can sew?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Wanderer counters, reaching into the inner lining of his haori and showing off a small, familiar cloth doll. Instantly, Kabukimono is patting himself down with a frantic expression, before pointing at Wanderer accusingly.

“Where did you get that?! I lost it a long time ago!”

“Heh, of course you did.” Wanderer smirks. “I made mine. What, are you telling me you never thought of making yourself a new one?”

“I was never good at doing the small stitches…” Kabukimono pouts, crossing his arms and eyeing the doll jealously. 

“That aside,” Wanderer continues, turning to you. “I can help you finish the clothes for your project dolls. The faster you can finish them, the faster you can retrieve the commission for them, right?”

“That’s true, I guess,” you acquiesce, already running the math in your head. If you could get the commission for the dolls early, you might not have to budget as hard this week. 

“I wanna help too!” Kabukimono declares, raising his hand (a bit redundantly, given he’s standing right next to you).

“Whatever,” Scaramouche snorts and waves dismissively as he begins to walk away. “If that’s what you nerds want to waste your time on, be my guest. As long as you don’t make it my problem, I don’t care what you do in your free time.”

“Party pooper,” you say, sticking out your tongue at his retreating back. “Well, what do you say, guys? Let’s get this bread?”

“Sure,” Wanderer nods, heading back into the workshop.

“What does bread have to do with dollmaking?” Kabukimono asks, even as he’s herded into the room by you.

“I’ll explain later, let’s finish up these bad boys first,” you promise, and the workshop door closes behind you.

----- ⚘ -----

“I made another sword!” Kabukimono declares, hurrying over to your workbench and showing off the tiny doll-sized sword he’d made. The fifth one, so far.

“That’s great, buddy!” You give him a pat, to his delight. “I think we’re okay on swords for now, though, d’you wanna try making something else this time?”

“Okay!”

Wanderer looks up from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, a few pins sticking out of his mouth as he uses them to hold his patterns in place. 

“Did your toymaker guy say what kinds of dolls he wanted?” He asks, holding up another utilitarian-looking outfit. “I can’t imagine this is what he had in mind when he asked for your help.”

“I mean, these are kind of edging into action figure territory,” you shrug. “But that’s probably fine. There’s a market out there for everything, nowadays.”

“Make a kimono that looks like the Shogun,” Kabukimono suggests, handing Wanderer some purple fabric. “Everybody likes the Shogun, right? She should be pretty popular.”

You and Wanderer both wince (for different reasons) at Kabukimono’s well-meant statement. However, Wanderer does take the purple fabric and sets it gently aside, and you wonder if he’ll take the suggestion after all. 

“Are you losers done in here? I’m tired of doing the dishes for two days straight,” Scaramouche kicks the door in, uncaring of the delicate work you three are doing. Thankfully, the risky parts are all done, so nothing suffers any damage with his sudden entrance. Scara drops three bowls onto your workbench, each piled with fried rice and vegetables.

“Ha, you’d make a great housewife,” Wanderer snickers, earning himself a smack on the back of his head. “Ow.”

“Thank you!” Kabukimono takes his bowl and brings it to where he’s working on something, hopefully not another sword. 

“Thanks,” you say as well, giving Scara a genuine smile. The puppet scowls and leaves as quickly as he’d come in.

“Don’t bother! It doesn’t benefit anyone if you drop dead from starvation, you know?” he sneers over his shoulder as he slams the door shut. 

There’s silence as you three eat the lunch that was generously provided, stacking the bowls and putting them beside the door for when you guys go for your next break.

“I think I’m done after I finish this last outfit,” Wanderer sighs, holding up the unfinished garment. It looks hilarious in his hands, a cheerful pink and purple kimono in stark contrast to his deadpan expression.

“I’m almost done too!” Kabukimono adds, holding up his latest project: a doll-sized armor set. You smile gratefully at the both of them, even as you rub your temples with a sigh.

“Okay, great, I’ll put these together and bring them to the toymaker later this afternoon, then!” You say, hoping you sound enthusiastic about it. You think about the mismatched collection of outfits and sword accessories, wondering how you were going to sell this to your temporary employer. 

----- ⚘ -----

As it turns out, if there’s one thing Inazumans like, it’s swordsmen. The toymaker looks in awe at your half dozen tiny samurai, handing you a pouch of mora with a pleased word of thanks. 

As you’re headed back home, you get a telepathic message from Wanderer.

KABUKIMONO WANTS TO KNOW WHEN WE’RE GETTING MORE DOLLS.

‘He fired me, we’ll have to do something else,’ you think back, hoping you don’t sound too guilty in your head.

As much as you love these guys, you aren’t sure you could take another two days straight of having to collab with them. Hopefully buying some treats on the way home will placate them.

—– ⚘ —–

^ reader trying to juggle all three scara iterations without breaking any of the dolls LMAO

[stinkysam]

Buggy the Clown - Flashy flashy !

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : "Male Reader who has a big gash across the side of his face, disfiguring him. The reader feels very insecure about it and when Buggy sees his face Buggy will be like everyone else hebl knows. Disgusted. But instead Buggy calls him flashy and goes on with their conversation. Which makes the reader feel warm inside." - anon

Reader : male (he/you)

Buggy knows how it is to feel disfigured. You with your scar, him with his nose.

But because he cares more about himself than the others, he sees his disfigurement as more important as yours. Even though this isn't a competition at all.

Because of this, he doesn't really see your scar as something disfiguring you but as something easy to ignore. And even if he can't ignore it, he doesn't see it as something negative.

He thought you were confident in it until one day he heard you were hesitating to wear a mask to cover your face.

He didn't think much of it but got still curious and asked the others about it. He thought you just wanted something more to make yourself flashier than you already are, to attract attention.

So when they told him it was to hide your scar he just stared at them, blinking.

"What scar ?"

They stared back at him, looking at each other, unsure if he's joking or not.

"That big scar he has on his… face ?" One of them says with a grimace.

"Oh ! Right !" He laughs as he remembers it. "Very flashy ! Very flashy…" He smiles, scratching his chin and leaves before stopping in his tracks.

"Wait, he wants to hide his scar ? Why ?" He asks, turning back only to see you standing next to them.

"I, uh… I'm not really comfortable with it…" You said, a bit ashamed. You heard what he said before ; 'Very flashy !' and you couldn't help thinking about it. "You said it was…"

"Flashy, yeah. Why are you embarrassed by it ?" He frowned, still not understanding.

"It's… big and very visible, and… uh… ugly ?" You replied with a shrug, not really wanting to explain your insecurity in front of other crew members, turning your face a bit to show him. You expected him to grimace and be awkward about it, trying to downplay his disgust but instead he just stared at you in confusion.

"Still flashy." He said, tilting his head to the side, grabbing your face, his thumb gently caressing the edge of your scar, still not seeing what you're seeing before turning away once again and leaving. "And forget the mask, order from your captain !" He yelled, unaware he had stunned you with his soft touch and words.

Nope, whatever it is you saw in your scar, he didn't see it. He even found it cool. So you better not hide it.

The next days he watched you, making sure you were not wearing a mask or trying to hide it.

If you still choose to wear a mask despite his words, Buggy won't say much apart from "Who are you ?" because your whole face was hidden.

"It's me, [Name]."

"Oh." His smile drops, his disappointment is evident. He didn't think you'd go as far as ignoring his order to hide your scar. But he hopes it's not something you'll keep for too long.

[rebelcracker-s]

WELCOME HOME THEORY :D

i've been swinging back and forth between "this is genius" and "i am spitballing" in debating whether to publicize this theory. i have decided to put it out there. i hope i'm somewhat right! (long post ahead)

so user @thecolourfulkingdom pointed out the importance of this tic-tac-toe image from the guestbook page:

i know a one-person game of tic-tac-toe doesn't seem like much, but op then placed this image on top of the neighborhood map (credits to them for figuring that out!), this image becomes very interesting.

it's suspicious how nicely the two line up.

i know this could be a random detail, but in somewhere as detailed as welcome home, i think that every detail counts, especially one like this. if it is a coincidence, it's a very strange one.

the circles in the board call attention to four (or five, depending on how you look at it) characters: wally/home, sally, frank, and howdy. we already know wally and home are two very important characters in the lore, but what connection do the remaining three three have? and why is wally pointing them out specifically?

this trio made me think of a certain image from the conceptual days of welcome home: concept art of the telephone that was revealed in the july update. (i'm not going to repost it due to clown's wishes about spreading conceptual art, but you can find it on their portfolio!)

in this image, the phone has eight buttons for eight neighbors, like the current one on the website. however, this one has three buttons scribbled out. based on colors, the three characters missing are sally (orange), howdy (teal), and eddie (purple).

i know it's not exact, but the fact that two out of the three "scratched-out" characters match the ones circled on this map has me thinking that i'm onto something.

here's what i think is going on. something happened in the neighborhood that divided the neighbors in half. something happened to the four uncircled ones--julie, barnaby, eddie, and poppy. it's really not clear what's happened to them right now, but wally has mentioned that he cannot talk to his neighbors right now. i think they at the very least lack the awareness to the strange things happening in the neighborhood. at the worst, they are dead.

again, i'm not sure what happened to them, so all we can do right now is speculate.

our remaining four--frank, sally, howdy, and wally--are the ones who have retained awareness. they know what is happening in home. they know about the whrp. and they know about the audience welcome home is gaining.

we know wally and home know about us because they have both spoken to us through the "i will find a way soon" audios. but what about the remaining three?

the july website update not only included the drawings that led to wally's messages, but also bugs leading to videos of interactions between the members. while the whrp insisted that there was nothing important about the bugs, the audience could click on these bugs and find secret videos depicting a conversation between the neighbors.

the latest game theory video on welcome home points out that like how drawing is related to wally and the drawings lead to messages from him, bugs are connected to frank, from his character description to his hidden audio with eddie. i believe those messages could be from frank. the video goes into more depth about this, but for the sake of the length of this theory, i'll stop here.

in the october 13th halloween update, we got the "happy haunting to boo and yours" record. the website staff insist multiple times that there is a gap in the audio during sally's story where they can't make out what sally is saying, but we can. (if you need a transcript for the skipped-over part, i have one reblogged!)

sally's story is a very menacing one about a monster that she cannot see or hear that prowls the neighborhood at night, devouring anything it passes, confining the neighbors to their homes at night. this would seem like a normal scary story if not for how the audio changes. at every other part, the audio has a crackly, vinyl sound; however, sally's story is perfectly clear.

it seems to me like sally is directly talking to the website's audience here: she's trying to warn us about the strange things going on in home. i think frank's messages were trying to do the same thing too. these are glimpses into the sides of welcome home that the whrp, wally, and home have not shown us: the lives of the neighbors, and the unsettling danger lurking beneath it all. notice how subtle both of their warnings were, and how they were careful to make sure that whrp could not discover them while the audience could.

also, remember how the title of the video tabs in the july update--"answer"--led us to the staff only page? i think the title of the newest hidden video--"listen"--is telling us not only to listen to the audios for a true glimpse of what life in the neighborhood was like, but to listen to their warnings.

i don't think wally is aware that frank and sally have been contacting us in secret, but i do believe he knows that they stand apart from the other neighbors, hence the tic-tac-toe board and the map.

but there's still one loose end: howdy hasn't yet talked to the audience. i think that during the big holiday update, we will see the final member of the "survivor trio" (as i like to call them) contact us. and i'm hoping this update tells us more about what's happening in welcome home's world and what role we as the viewers play in it.

:)

[hostilemuppet]

Brozone (and friends (and enemies)) twitter drama au

Collaborative between me and @squirrelpatties. Truly our magnum opus

Jd: previously a frequent twitter e-clown infamous for name searching and starting beef with people who insulted him. His fanbase thought it was hilarious in a "grandpa escaped the hospital" way. Eventually was forced to relinquish control of @/brojohndoryofficial to his pr manager (clay) after he responded to 14 y/o @/j0ndryballzweat.

Floyd (part 1): his sex tape (with a fan he didnt know was a fan but thats hardly relevant) gets leaked. For the first three days everyone's timeline was full of "do NOT share it around, dont even look for it, if someone sends it to you IGNORE it, this is a disgusting breach of privacy" until Floyd addresses it by tweeting "decided to put on a different kind of show for you guys" and all hell breaks loose. Every tweets hidden replies are full of screencaps and reuploads for a month. People edit the video so just before anything explicit happens it's replaced by a video game cutscene or meme, which Floyd retweets a lot of. His brothers ask him to stop (both for publicity and bc it makes them uncomfortable) so he starts posting thirst traps on insta. Clay yells at him so Floyd tweets "clay just asked when I'm gonna get a girlfriend :/" which brings us to-

Clay: homophobia allegations. Admittedly the least serious and would have blown over quickly if it weren't for him panic tweeting "I'm not homophobic! My girlfriend is a bi lesbian!" People were NOT happy. It takes him three days of retweeting 'helpful educational threads and carrds' on lesbianism written by 14 y/os for people to get off his back. Viva understands.

Bruce: stays off social media bc its the mind killer so he lets clay take care of @/brobruceofficial. This goes well until clay gets drunk and thinks he's on his private account but is actually on Bruce's public. When he wakes up (hungover) in the morning hes got Bruce banging on his door asking why TMZ is reporting on him cheating on his wife. Bruce tells him to clear things up but clay JUST got the lesbians off his back and can't afford to be back in the hotseat...

Branch and poppy: branch was annoyed by all the branch/poppy rpf fanfic (poppy likes them bc she thinks they're cute and funny. When brozone go on tour she reads the smutty ones) so he suggested to poppy that they stage a fake breakup. Poppy is initially against the idea until branch brings up how much fun itd be to sneak around like a couple of teenagers. Poppy scrapbooks the tabloids about their breakup. Clay and Bruce blame clays drunken tweets on branch so clay seems like the victim. Poppy acknowledges this on twitter in a way that very heavily implies they broke up bc branch was cheating on her with her own sister. Viva does not understand. This one doesn't have a resolution yet bc we moved onto:

Barb: previous lesbian icon turned reactionary transphobe. Riff stopped associating with her once she started getting really public with it and now she keeps tweeting stuff like "you-know-who left me just to work with misogynists. Really makes you think 🤔 " which he ignores.

Riff: while still working with barb he was approached to collab with creek (damage control for the... unsavoury things he said about rock trolls). The second the song released he tweeted "wow that guy was an asshole LOL" bc he didn't realise he wasn't supposed to do that. Cut contact with barb once her transphobia went from "mild, I can fix her" to "jesus fucking christ". Briefly worked with Floyd until his second controversy at which point riff tweeted "cmon, man" and turned off his phone. Riff hasn't done anything wrong and he deserves a lot better

Velvet: crafted the perfect expose thread on Floyd when she was in prison, including "pro life" "publicly sharing inappropriate sexual content" and "uses the toothpaste flag". Posts it the second she gets let out of prison and instantly becomes #1 on trending (alongside "floyd" "pro life" and "#HUGS4CLAY).

Floyd (part 2): tweets "why does it even matter that I'm pro life if I'm gay and don't 'believe' in 'voting'" before doing another line off his boyfriends torso. People bring his leaked nudes back up and start insulting his dick size and its the first time hes ever let a controversy bother him. His next tweet is "I am not ashamed of my body" and the top reply (creek pfp) is "you should be ❤". Clay is biting the skin off his own tongue.

[hxney-lemcn]

Tea Errors — General! Jonathan Crane x gn! reader

summery: Harley tries to help reader to get with Jon. But when the reader mysteriously doesn't appear at work one day, Jon can't help but worry. What happens when he finds out they're in a hospital?

tw: Descriptions of injury and violence.

a/n: Idk why, but the rogues have been making me write damn novels compared to my other fics. My average has been like...3.7k words for them when normally its only 1k 😭 This fic is loosely inspired by these headcanons by @roguish-gallery

wc: 5.6k

Master List

(Read it on ao3 here)

“Wait…WHAT?!” Harley shouted, not caring how the other patrons glanced in our direction. Although once they realized it was Harley Quinn, they quickly went back to minding their own business. 

I dropped my head to the table, feeling my body heat up with embarrassment. I knew that telling Harley a secret was like telling a middle aged housewife the neighborhood gossip. Which meant it won’t be a secret for long, but I’ve been keeping this secret for a long time. It was getting draining to hold these feelings in to myself and Harley was surprisingly one of the closest people in my life at the moment. 

How? Well I was Jonathan Crane’s assistant. I helped him with anything he needed to take care of that he didn’t have time to oversee himself. It took me a long time to get into the position I have now, and over that time I found myself falling for him. Somehow. He was reclusive, quiet, and distant. Yet somehow that charmed me. His passion, albeit unique, spoke to me. Not many people were as passionate as he was about his research, and the fact that he never let any setbacks get to him was admirable. It’s one of the reasons why I wanted to help him so much. 

Even more surprising was how Harley Quinn, the clown queen of crime, seemed to have a strange attachment to Dr. Crane. It was like a frenemy situation. Dr. Crane would always seem to have an air of distaste towards Harley when she was around, yet he would never kick her out or yell at her. Not that he was the shouting type. His threats towards her were surface level at worst, and he never scolded me for her somehow getting into his office. 

Which led to us becoming friends. Whenever she deemed Dr. Crane to be worthy of her attention, she’d end up getting sidetracked when I actually would hold a conversation with her. I think Dr. Crane appreciated it as well, since he could actually focus on his toxins instead of making sure Harley didn’t accidentally gas herself…not like it would affect her. 

Which led to the current situation. I confessed my hidden feelings for my boss to Harley Quinn. It was wrong on so many levels. It was unprofessional the way I felt about him, and not to mention that he was a criminal mastermind. 

…well that second point never really mattered. I got over it the second I saw my first paycheck. 

“I know,” I groaned into my arms. “It’s weird.”

“This is amazing!” She squealed, kicking her feet. “Y’know he’s always been a loner. I’ve just been waitin’ for someone to come along and sweep him off of his feet.” 

Lifting my head, I stared blankly at her, “I don’t think I’ve swept anything but the floors.”

“Awe I don’t think that’s true,” She smirked, taking a sip of her obnoxiously bright drink. “Y’know he’s never had an assistant last as long as you have toots. Not to mention he seems ta really like ya. I mean he hasn’t made ya one of his test subjects yet.”

“Yet,” I pointed out, taking a sip of my drink. 

Harley’s cherry red lips were held in a pout, “Don’t be such a party pooper. Besides! If he tries anything he’ll have to get through me!”

I couldn’t stop the small smile that formed on my lips at that statement. There were some perks to having villain friends. Harley may be crazy, but she was loyal. I’m lucky that I’m in her good graces. 

“He’s got a soft spot for ya,” She said with a shrug, stirring her drink with her straw. “He’s just got his own way of showin’ it.”

Harley’s words continued to ring through my head the next day. I brewed some coffee while also checking the email for Dr. Crane. I hadn’t seen him come in yet, so he was either running late (unlikely), or he was already cooped up in his lab (very likely). In fact, it was likely that he hadn't even left it all night. 

Seeing as none of the other rogues contacted Dr. Crane, I decided to check out the lab and make sure everything was in order. I’ve only been into the lab a couple of times. Dr. Crane didn’t like anyone entering, and the times I had been in there were to escort Harley out into his office instead. The lab is where he kept his most vile of fear toxin samples. Building off of his old works to create more potent toxins to warp Batman's mind. 

I knocked on the door first, wanting to make sure I wasn’t intruding. When I didn’t hear anything, I cracked the door open, peering into the room. Tables are littered with burners, tubes, vials, flasks, pipettes, beakers and basically anything you could possibly need for creating toxins that drive people insane and possibly kill them. My eyes finally fell onto the brown haired scientist, slumped over the table with beakers surrounding him. Orange liquids filled some, others were a dark brown. 

Taking a tentative step back, I shut the door as quietly as I could. I made quick work of grabbing the jacket I wore today and quietly slipped into the lab. I scooched the beakers back (keeping them in the same order) to give Crane some more space. I then gently placed my jacket over his shoulders, which made him stir, causing me to tense, only for him to continue his slumber. Carefully, I slid his glasses off his face so he could sleep a bit more comfortably. Folding the legs of his glasses, I placed them near his head.

I should wake him up. It was my job to make sure everything was in working order. Keep an eye on the goons, make sure transactions were upheld, and report any problems to Dr. Crane. Yet seeing how he tended to overwork himself, neglecting his needs, I could only hope that he won’t be too irritated at my decision. Double checking that the space was as safe as it could be, I left the lab. I was just glad he didn’t leave any burners on overnight. 

A few hours later, Crane had entered what could only be described as the lobby. It wasn’t really a lobby, as no one came in and out of the hideout except for goons, but it held my desk. I was absorbed in my work, making sure that the next shipment of chemicals came in discreetly and without a hitch.

“I believe this is yours,” His low voice shocked me out of my trance. Looking away from the screen of my computer, I was met with his blue eyes staring back. With his lips barely uplifting into a smirk, Crane teased, “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t,” I teased back, taking my jacket back. “I hope you don’t mind that I let you sleep in.” 

It was silent for a few seconds. A few agonizing seconds. His blue eyes felt like they were piercing through me, and I could only hope Harley was right about how Crane felt about me.

“I suppose I wouldn’t be able to properly make batches of my toxins if I were drowsy,” He muttered, pushing his round glasses up his nose. “Speaking of, are those chemicals going to be here today?”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded proudly. I always felt proud when I had good news to give him, even if he didn’t give me a reason to. “They’ll be in within the hour.” 

With a nod, he excused himself and made his way into the makeshift breakroom.

…

“I wish I could help,” Harley pouted, holding her head up in her hand. 

“You have no business getting into other people’s personal lives,” Ivy scolded, green eyes half lidded in a disapproving stare. “Besides, I doubt Crane has any interest in them outside of scaring them.”

My smile fell at that. Ivy was the clear headed one of the two. She kept Harley grounded while Harley helped Ivy let loose every once in a while. Ivy wasn’t really fond of me, though I didn’t blame her. She was weary of all strangers, and we’ve only talked a few times. The only reason being that I was a friend of Harley’s. 

“You shoulda seen ‘im red!” Harley exclaimed, flapping her arms around wildly. “He was totes makin’ goo goo eyes' last time I visited.”

“I don’t even understand why you visit the old crow,” She grumbled, taking a sip of water. 

“You wouldn’t get it,” Harley waved off. “And don’t listen to red toots. She’s just jealous that I’ve been payin’ more attention to your little love story than her.” 

“You wish,” Ivy mumbled into her glass. 

“Anyways,” Harley emphasized. “You gotta show him you're interested! But not over the top. He’s mentioned how he had students flirt with him to get better grades so that type ‘a flirtin’ don’t work for him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You gotta do somethin’ else,” She explained, twirling her hair. “Y’know, I think he’d really enjoy acts of service. Take care of him a little. Ooo, maybe some quality time.” She winked.

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that?” I asked, slumping over slightly. “Ask him on a date?” Ivy looked as disinterested as ever as Harley tapped her chin in thought.

“Uhhhhmmm,” Harley hummed. “Maybe start with something smaller. Take a break together, get to know each other better.”

I hummed, thinking it over. Harley was actually giving good advice. It wasn’t over the top or brash like it usually is. She must be closer to Crane than I thought.

“I’ll try,” I nodded. It seemed easy enough.

…

Boy was I wrong. It felt nearly impossible to pull Crane away from his work, and I honestly didn’t want to. He seemed close to a breakthrough and I didn’t want to distract him…I’m not sure if it would end well for me if I did. So I decided to focus on what I do best. Acts of service. I dropped by the lab, the room feeling less daunting every time I entered without Crane shooing me out. When his coffee was low, I’d refill his cup, when he hadn't eaten anything since the morning, I’d ask if he wanted any food or snacks. 

It would be stupid to think that Crane hasn’t noticed my change in behavior. How I was providing him more aid than usual. How I started to focus on his needs more. I was just glad he didn’t bring it up, though he wasn’t the type to do that. It was a slow day today. No deals, no shipments, no rogues needing anything. So I was left to help Crane, whether it be cleaning his equipment or getting him another refill. 

“Did you need anything else Dr. Crane?” I asked, watching him drop some chemicals into a flask, the chemicals bubbling as a reaction. “Perhaps you could use a small break.”

He paused for a second, rubbing his eyes. It was hard to ignore the purple under his eyes as it continued to grow darker by the day. I could only imagine the soreness he felt as he hunched over his equipment for hours. I felt a glimmer of hope that I managed to get to him.

“I reckon a break wouldn’t hurt,” He mumbled, pushing himself to stand up. A bright grin splashed across my face, feeling giddy that he actually listened. Shrugging off his lab coat, Crane exited the lab and I trailed behind him. 

“Harley mentioned you tend to overwork yourself,” I spoke up. “But she didn’t need to tell me that since I witness it first hand almost everyday.”

“Yes,” Crane hummed, taking a seat in his office seat. It looked much more comfortable than the stool he used in the lab. “A bad habit. You’ve been talking to Harley?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, standing in front of his desk. I wasn’t fully sure if he wanted me there for his break, but the advice Harley gave rang through my head. “She’s been really nice to me. Inviting me to hang with her during her more laid-back outings…which never seem to stay that way. But I got to meet Ivy! But she doesn’t really like me, so I feel bad when I third wheel her and Harley.”

Crane quirked an eyebrow, but his reaction was as nonchalant as ever, “I wouldn’t feel too guilty, Ivy doesn’t really like anyone outside of Harley.”

“Yeah,” I shrugged, finally deciding to take a seat. “It’s nice to have friends. With my current career path and all, I didn't think I’d have any.”

A silence settled over us before Crane spoke up, “...I understand how the life of crime may be lonely.”

Even though I worked for a criminal, and I was surrounded by criminals, I always forget that I was now technically classified as a criminal. I had worked as a receptionist once when I was a teenager. A minimum wage job to give me some extra spending money. So working for Crane felt nostalgic almost. Even though I was in charge of stock, transactions, and the schedule for Crane…I never saw the aftermath. I could’ve been working for anyone with the tasks I kept, so it was easy for me to forget just how deep I was in if either Crane or I were caught. 

“Well,” I trailed off, trying to gain the courage for what I wanted to say. “I hope my presence makes it just a little less lonely around here.”

Crane was cold, distant, reclusive. That didn’t mean he wasn’t human (even if he didn’t want to admit that). Loneliness was like a disease, once the feeling’s there, it’s hard to make it dissipate. It would slowly creep through you until it would fully consume you. Some people had a higher tolerance to it, others didn’t. 

Crane seemed to be one of the few that was immune to the feeling. He, after all, never showed anything to prove contrary. Yet the hidden warmth that laid just behind his eyes screamed otherwise. Perhaps, his alias as Scarecrow was only one side of him. The side he wanted everyone to see, that he wanted everyone to cower to. But behind that mask, revealed an old man who was both tired and lonely. Perhaps a part of him craved that loneliness, I understood the need to be alone all too well, but it was clear he also craved a connection. For someone to see all of him, and to accept him for all his flaws and perfections. 

“You’ve definitely livened the space up,” He replied, his eyes trailing to the plants I’ve added to his office. “...I do appreciate what you do…thank you.”

I stared at him in awe. The master of fear, a man renowned for bringing your worst fears to life, had given me praise. He had caused my heart rate to accelerate, but it wasn’t from fear. 

…

“YES!” Harley cheered, pumping her fist in the air. “I better be the maid of honor.”

I let out a snort, “If it took this long for him to compliment me I think marriage is far, far in the future.”

“You don’t get it,” Harley grinned, bouncing in her seat. “He neva compliments anyone! He’s basically just confessed his undyin’ love for ya!”

Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t hide the amused grin that took over my lips. The idea of Doctor Jonathan Crane, the brooding workaholic scientist/terrorist professing his undying love was entertaining. A man who was a force to be reckoned with, being soft. The more I thought about it, the more I craved to witness such an event. To be someone he deems special.

The rest of the night went by smoothly. Or as smooth as it can get with Harley. She only busted one guy's ass after he tried to catcall her. So overall, a calm night. We parted ways eventually, and I seemed to have grown too comfortable in Gotham. I was surrounded by rogues! What did I have to fear when I worked with the most fearsome?

There’s nothing more fearsome than desperation. The terror that filled me at this moment was worse than my first day of working under Scarecrow! The man held a knife up to me, hands trembling as he ordered me to hand over my wallet and all other valuable items I may be carrying. I knew better than to fight. My wallet wasn’t worth more than my life. Though I was scared of what the man’s reaction will be when he realizes I don’t have anything of value. I may have been stupid enough to walk down the streets of Gotham without a buddy, but I was smart enough to keep valuables off of me.

I slowly took out my wallet, to make sure he knew I wasn’t a threat. But the man didn’t seem to be stable, whether he was coming down from a high, or was paranoid, I wasn’t sure, but he jerked the knife forward. I gasped, eyes wide as I watched the knife pierce my abdomen, my wallet dropping to the asphalt forgotten. The man also seemed surprised, as he took a step back. 

“W-wait,” I pleaded breathly, but it was too late. The man yanked the knife out and took off running. “Shit,” I whispered, pressing the wound. Moving to sit on the trash littered pavement, I tried to keep pressure on my wound as I dialed 911. 

“911 what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asked calmly.

“I-I just got stabbed,” I replied, taking a shuddering breath in. The pain started to spread along with the blood that seeped between my fingers. “I need an ambulance.” 

I kept trying to take deep breaths as I gave them my location. My vision started to get blurry as stars filled my peripheral vision. I hoped to whatever was listening that I was close enough to a hospital. That today wouldn’t be my last day. That all I lived up to was being an assistant. Not being able to say goodbye to Harley, to Jon. I tried to stay awake, yet my eyelids were growing heavier by the second. The drone of the dispatcher felt like a lullaby as they tried to question me, keep me awake, keep me alive. 

The sound of sirens rang through my head foggily. The pressure I kept on my side had loosened as my hands started to feel colder. The searing pain started to numb as everything soon turned dark. 

…

When Jonathan had walked into the hideout that following morning, the space was unusually quiet. As he passed your desk, he noted that it hadn’t changed since you left the night before. It was strange when the smell of coffee brewing no longer filled the air. That your cheery voice hadn’t greeted him. He felt his mood sour by the second. 

Though it was odd that you were late. He couldn’t remember a day that you weren’t there to greet him. You were only human, and people made mistakes. He’ll let you off with a warning this time, but don’t make it a habit. 

After making himself a pot of coffee, he went into his lab to drown himself in his work. Like usual. Yet that stupid nagging wouldn’t leave the back of his head. Where were you? If you needed to miss work you would’ve called in. Yes, typically he didn’t really allow sick days. His goons were paid to get the job done, not to lay around and be sick. 

But you weren’t just any goon. You were his charming assistant who made his day, even if he didn’t show it. He paused his movements, eyes fogging over as he started to theorize where you could possibly be. Were you sick? Were you hurt? Maybe you forgot to call? With that thought, Jon took out his phone and called you. Each ring made his heart thump faster. When he heard your voice, a sense of comfort washed over him, only for it to be your voicemail. His comfort vanished. Remembering the fact that you had mentioned going to see Harley, he decided to call her. (Texting wasn’t really his thing).

“Hiya Jon!” Harley greeted over the phone. “You finally called!” Not wanting to waste time, Jon got right to the point, asking if she knew where you were. “Whaddya mean they’re not at work?” Harley asked, voice giving away her concern.

Jon hung up, a scowl starting to form on his face. Where the hell were you? A feeling he hadn’t felt in a long, long time started to form. His gut twisted, heart pumping faster, he felt scared. A feeling he’d normally welcome. A state he was so used to it felt like home. Yet, with the context of you possibly missing, his fear wasn’t welcome. 

It wasn’t until an hour later when relief flooded through his system. Your caller I.D. flashed on his phone screen and he didn’t hesitate to answer.

…

The first thing I heard was the sound of beeping. I scrunched my face as pain seared through my abdomen. Blearily opening my eyes, the bright light overhead seared my brain. I let out a groan as everything started to hurt. My head pounded at the same time heels clicked against the ground. Looking over, a nurse rushed over to me.

“You’re awake!” She spoke loudly, her voice irritatingly cheery for my current condition. “The doctor’s on his way.”

“What happened?” I asked, throat raspy with misuse. 

“I’ll let the doctor go over your condition,” The nurse replied patronizingly. 

“What time is it?” I asked instead, wanting to get some information.

Pulling out her phone, she glanced at it before replying, “It’s currently 10:47 am.” A knock on the door sounded through the room before the doctor entered. 

“Good morning,” The doctor greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” I grumbled, trying to shift up on the hospital bed. The nurse quickly rushed over and helped me. 

“Well, it would be concerning if you didn’t feel anything,” The doctor jokes. “I’m Dr. Bell. You’re currently in Gotham General Hospital. You were stabbed, luckily, all major organs and arteries were missed. You’ll be discharged in a few days if your wound shows no signs of infection. Do you have any questions?”

“Uhm,” I muttered, trying to take in all this information at once. “Where…are my things?”

“Would you bring their personal belongings Lynn?” Dr. Bell turned to the nurse who nodded and hurriedly, the sound of her heels following her out of the room. “Not so good news, there’s no one named under your emergency contact list, so you may have to stay longer in the hospital if you have no one to take care of you. And since you were stabbed, the police are here to do a brief interview.” I let out a sigh, leaning my head back. Dr. Bell nodded to two police officers standing just outside of my room before taking her leave. 

“Hello,” One police officer greeted me. The other slightly tipping his hat. “I’m Detective Yates, that’s my partner Tanner. I’m sure you already know why we’re here.” I nodded, pulling the thin hospital blanket further up. 

“We know this may be hard to talk about,” Tanner spoke up. “It’s still fresh, but that’s why we try ta get as much info as we can right away.”

“It’s all really blurry,” I lied. “I might not be much help.” It wasn’t blurry. I remember every second vividly. The distress in the man's dark brown eyes. How his dark brown hair was tousled and greasy like he hasn’t had a shower in days. How his hands trembled with the silver of the knife glittering under the street lights. The look of utter horror, panic, and regret that flashed in his eyes as the knife plunged through my skin. 

He was a person who needed help, not enforcement.

“Any detail will be of help,” Yates gruffed. “Do you remember how they looked?”

“He…he was tall. Maybe 5’9?” I offered. If I said nothing they’d get suspicious of my intentions. “He was wearing a hood, so I couldn’t see much besides that.”

“What clothes was he wearin’?” Tanner asked next.

“Uhm, black hoodie,” I replied. “And blue jeans.”

“How’d he act?” 

“Scared,” I replied honestly. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me. He ran off right after. Don’t remember much after that.”

Another lie. I remember the fear that rushed through me when I believed I was a goner. The pain that felt like liquid fire burning through me. The glow of the street light that shined down on me as I bleed out. Though I doubt that’s what the police needed to know.

“Thank you for your time,” Detective Yates replied, standing up with his partner. “We’ll contact you if we find anything else.”

“Thanks,” I replied awkwardly, waving at them as they left. When I finally thought I’d be left to my own devices, Nurse Lynn entered carrying my belongings. 

“You didn’t have much on you,” She said mindlessly, setting my things down on the bed beside me. “Wallet, phone, and keys. If you need anything, just press this button.” She aimlessly pointed near the side of my bed. With that, she was gone. Finally, peace and quiet…not counting the loud beeping of the heart monitor. Checking my phone, my eyes widened. Over 100 notifications. Most of them being none other than Harley Quinn.

Scrolling through the spam of texts Harley sent, my heart warmed at how much she really cared for me. 

‘Jonny called me’

‘u ok toots?’

‘helloooooooooooooo’

‘ur scaring me here’

‘Jonny never called me before y’know’

‘ANSWER ME’

‘pls’

You get the jist. I quickly typed out a short ‘I’m ok, there was a small accident but it’s all good now’. Then I finally got to the first missed call. Dr. Crane. There was something common between Harley and I. Jon never called me before either, and my nerves started getting to me. I’d never missed a day of work before. Well…only if I were sick. I’d never missed a day of work without telling Jon before. Was he angry? Would he fire me? …would I become his next test subject? 

I never thought about him like that before. I always felt a strange security around him. It was funny, I found comfort in a man who took away people's comfort. Yet that security was stripped. At the end of the day, he was still my boss. A man who didn’t take insubordination lightly. Yes I was literally stabbed, but there was that fear that still lingered. I suppose that was Jon’s entire motif. 

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the call button quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. The heart monitor beeped more rapidly each time the phone rang. It rang three times before he finally answered, my name whispered out under his breath.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Sorry about everything. I, uh, had an accident last night. Doctor said I have to stay in the hospital for a few days, maybe longer since I don’t have anyone to take care of me if I were to go home.”

It was quiet for a few beats.

“Where are you being held?” He asked, his voice low. A shiver ran up my spine at his tone.

“Gotham General Hospital,” I replied back. 

“I’ll be right there,” He muttered before hanging up. I blinked, unsure how to feel. But I couldn’t dwell on it long because I was being spam called by Harley. 

“Hi Harley,” I answered.

“What do you mean you had an accident?” She shouted, making me pull the phone away from my ear. 

“Okay, I’ll tell you everything but you gotta promise not to freak out,” I sighed. “Jon’s already on his way to visit me.”

“OMG YOU JUST CALLED HIM JON,” Harley shrieked. “Wait, you’re distracting me, what’s going on?”

“...I got stabbed.”

“YOU WHAT?” 

I bit my lip, “It sounds worse than it is…?”

“You’re not makin’ much sense toots,” Harley replied, and I could hear the frown on her face. “How can a stabbing sound worse than it is? Are you at the hospital? Please tell me you’re gettin’ cared for.”

“I’m at Gotham Central Hospital,” I stated. “It’s all stitched up. Doc said nothing vital was hit and I just need time to heal. Like I said, it sounds worse than it is.”

Clearly pouting, Harley huffed, “I wish I could visit ya, but I think that’d cause a bit of a hassle.”

I laughed lightly before flinching at the pain it caused, “Yeah, I’d rather you not get arrested.”

“Tell me when you get out, okay?” Harley asked.

“Okay,” I agreed, a warm grin painting my lips.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Do ya know who did it?” Harley finally asked. “I’d just like ta pay ‘em a little visit.”

Looking down at my lap, my smile turned more somber, “You don’t gotta do that Harls’. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind.”

“...” Harley stayed silent before responding. “That don’t matta. You got hurt, end of story. End of theirs too.”

I sighed, “No.”

“You got a big heart toots,” Harley sighed. “A little too big if ya ask me.”

I chuckled once more, “Yeah yeah.”

“You get betta for me, alright suga’?” She asked somberly. 

“Of course,” I agreed. 

“And you better call me!”

“I will.”

“...you callin’ him Jon now?” She asked, and I could just imagine the cheeky grin she held. 

My heart stuttered at the implication, “I…it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Mhmmm,” She hummed. “No, of course not. You’ve just been callin’ him Crane for what? Two years now?”

“...”

Harley chuckled at my silence, “Alright, I’ll stop teasin’ ya. You get some rest, okay? I need my best friend back in tip top shape!”

“Aye, aye captain,” I saluted, even if she couldn’t see. 

“Bye bye toots.”

“Bye Harley.”

I felt myself relax, looking over to the small tv that rested in the corner of the room. I picked up the remote that laid on the side table and scrolled through the channels. I frowned as nothing good seemed to be on, and it was hard to see the screen anyways. Why did they put it in the farthest corner of the room?

The sound of knocking resounded through the room, and a nurse entered the room shortly, “You have a visitor.” None other than Jonathan Crane towered behind the nurse. He was as put together as always, the only sign of something being wrong was the intensity of his gaze as it fell onto my figure. The nurse exited just as quickly, closing the door behind her. 

The tension felt high as silence consumed the room. I picked at the linens, anxiety suddenly running through me. Talking to Harley helped me calm down about the situation, but Jon brought me back to reality. 

“Just an accident?” Jon asked, his face never leaving its calm expression.

I offered a sheepish grin, “Does someone get stabbed on purpose?”

His face remained stoic, not a hint of amusement as I tried to diffuse the tension. Jon took a seat in the cheap plastic chair that sat next to the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, the rage in his eyes dying down into a warm caring look. 

I shrugged, “It hurts. I’m tired, a bit hungry.”

“Have you eaten anything yet?”

“No,” I shook my head. The previous tension had dissipated into a warmth. Maybe I should get stabbed more often if Jon would take care of me. Nah, the pain wasn’t all that fun.

…

With Jon taking care of me, my feelings towards him only grew stronger. He’d try to help me through the trauma I gained from the interaction. Trauma I didn’t even realize I really had. I would wake up in a cold sweat some nights, the feeling of the knife penetrating my skin feeling as real as it did the night of the attack. I also couldn’t get over the hopelessness I felt that night. The need to see the people I cared about most just one last time. How I took our interactions for granted. 

I watched with gratitude as Jon pressed the back of his hand on my forehead, making sure I didn’t have a fever. Making sure I wasn’t catching an infection, even though my wound had nearly fully healed. The sudden urge to confess my feelings consumed me. This wasn’t how a boss normally treated their employee. This was how someone treated a loved one.

I wished to see his soft side, and now I saw it, and I never wanted to let go.

“Jon,” I whispered, my breath fanning over his face. His blue eyes met mine, urging me to continue with his expression alone. 

Fear drives people. That’s what Jon theorized. And with recent events, I’ve come to realize that he’s right. I was afraid of rejection, and so I kept how I felt to myself. Now, I was afraid he’ll never know how I feel. How much I care for him, how much I admire and appreciate him. 

“Thank you, for everything,” I thanked, taking in just how handsome he was. “Would you be okay with getting a coffee together?”

The faintest look of surprise crossed his features before that barely there grin pulled his lips up, “Sounds like a treat.”

“Then it's a date,” I grinned, closing the distance and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Wait…WHAT?!” Harley shouted, not caring how the other patrons glanced in our direction. Although once they realized it was Harley Quinn, they quickly went back to minding their own business. 

I dropped my head to the table, feeling my body heat up with embarrassment. I knew that telling Harley a secret was like telling a middle aged housewife the neighborhood gossip. Which meant it won’t be a secret for long, but I’ve been keeping this secret for a long time. It was getting draining to hold these feelings in to myself and Harley was surprisingly one of the closest people in my life at the moment. 

How? Well I was Jonathan Crane’s assistant. I helped him with anything he needed to take care of that he didn’t have time to oversee himself. It took me a long time to get into the position I have now, and over that time I found myself falling for him. Somehow. He was reclusive, quiet, and distant. Yet somehow that charmed me. His passion, albeit unique, spoke to me. Not many people were as passionate as he was about his research, and the fact that he never let any setbacks get to him was admirable. It’s one of the reasons why I wanted to help him so much. 

Even more surprising was how Harley Quinn, the clown queen of crime, seemed to have a strange attachment to Dr. Crane. It was like a frenemy situation. Dr. Crane would always seem to have an air of distaste towards Harley when she was around, yet he would never kick her out or yell at her. Not that he was the shouting type. His threats towards her were surface level at worst, and he never scolded me for her somehow getting into his office. 

Which led to us becoming friends. Whenever she deemed Dr. Crane to be worthy of her attention, she’d end up getting sidetracked when I actually would hold a conversation with her. I think Dr. Crane appreciated it as well, since he could actually focus on his toxins instead of making sure Harley didn’t accidentally gas herself…not like it would affect her. 

Which led to the current situation. I confessed my hidden feelings for my boss to Harley Quinn. It was wrong on so many levels. It was unprofessional the way I felt about him, and not to mention that he was a criminal mastermind. 

…well that second point never really mattered. I got over it the second I saw my first paycheck. 

“I know,” I groaned into my arms. “It’s weird.”

“This is amazing!” She squealed, kicking her feet. “Y’know he’s always been a loner. I’ve just been waitin’ for someone to come along and sweep him off of his feet.” 

Lifting my head, I stared blankly at her, “I don’t think I’ve swept anything but the floors.”

“Awe I don’t think that’s true,” She smirked, taking a sip of her obnoxiously bright drink. “Y’know he’s never had an assistant last as long as you have toots. Not to mention he seems ta really like ya. I mean he hasn’t made ya one of his test subjects yet.”

“Yet,” I pointed out, taking a sip of my drink. 

Harley’s cherry red lips were held in a pout, “Don’t be such a party pooper. Besides! If he tries anything he’ll have to get through me!”

I couldn’t stop the small smile that formed on my lips at that statement. There were some perks to having villain friends. Harley may be crazy, but she was loyal. I’m lucky that I’m in her good graces. 

“He’s got a soft spot for ya,” She said with a shrug, stirring her drink with her straw. “He’s just got his own way of showin’ it.”

Harley’s words continued to ring through my head the next day. I brewed some coffee while also checking the email for Dr. Crane. I hadn’t seen him come in yet, so he was either running late (unlikely), or he was already cooped up in his lab (very likely). In fact, it was likely that he hadn't even left it all night. 

Seeing as none of the other rogues contacted Dr. Crane, I decided to check out the lab and make sure everything was in order. I’ve only been into the lab a couple of times. Dr. Crane didn’t like anyone entering, and the times I had been in there were to escort Harley out into his office instead. The lab is where he kept his most vile of fear toxin samples. Building off of his old works to create more potent toxins to warp Batman's mind. 

I knocked on the door first, wanting to make sure I wasn’t intruding. When I didn’t hear anything, I cracked the door open, peering into the room. Tables are littered with burners, tubes, vials, flasks, pipettes, beakers and basically anything you could possibly need for creating toxins that drive people insane and possibly kill them. My eyes finally fell onto the brown haired scientist, slumped over the table with beakers surrounding him. Orange liquids filled some, others were a dark brown. 

Taking a tentative step back, I shut the door as quietly as I could. I made quick work of grabbing the jacket I wore today and quietly slipped into the lab. I scooched the beakers back (keeping them in the same order) to give Crane some more space. I then gently placed my jacket over his shoulders, which made him stir, causing me to tense, only for him to continue his slumber. Carefully, I slid his glasses off his face so he could sleep a bit more comfortably. Folding the legs of his glasses, I placed them near his head.

I should wake him up. It was my job to make sure everything was in working order. Keep an eye on the goons, make sure transactions were upheld, and report any problems to Dr. Crane. Yet seeing how he tended to overwork himself, neglecting his needs, I could only hope that he won’t be too irritated at my decision. Double checking that the space was as safe as it could be, I left the lab. I was just glad he didn’t leave any burners on overnight. 

A few hours later, Crane had entered what could only be described as the lobby. It wasn’t really a lobby, as no one came in and out of the hideout except for goons, but it held my desk. I was absorbed in my work, making sure that the next shipment of chemicals came in discreetly and without a hitch.

“I believe this is yours,” His low voice shocked me out of my trance. Looking away from the screen of my computer, I was met with his blue eyes staring back. With his lips barely uplifting into a smirk, Crane teased, “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t,” I teased back, taking my jacket back. “I hope you don’t mind that I let you sleep in.” 

It was silent for a few seconds. A few agonizing seconds. His blue eyes felt like they were piercing through me, and I could only hope Harley was right about how Crane felt about me.

“I suppose I wouldn’t be able to properly make batches of my toxins if I were drowsy,” He muttered, pushing his round glasses up his nose. “Speaking of, are those chemicals going to be here today?”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded proudly. I always felt proud when I had good news to give him, even if he didn’t give me a reason to. “They’ll be in within the hour.” 

With a nod, he excused himself and made his way into the makeshift breakroom.

…

“I wish I could help,” Harley pouted, holding her head up in her hand. 

“You have no business getting into other people’s personal lives,” Ivy scolded, green eyes half lidded in a disapproving stare. “Besides, I doubt Crane has any interest in them outside of scaring them.”

My smile fell at that. Ivy was the clear headed one of the two. She kept Harley grounded while Harley helped Ivy let loose every once in a while. Ivy wasn’t really fond of me, though I didn’t blame her. She was weary of all strangers, and we’ve only talked a few times. The only reason being that I was a friend of Harley’s. 

“You shoulda seen ‘im red!” Harley exclaimed, flapping her arms around wildly. “He was totes makin’ goo goo eyes' last time I visited.”

“I don’t even understand why you visit the old crow,” She grumbled, taking a sip of water. 

“You wouldn’t get it,” Harley waved off. “And don’t listen to red toots. She’s just jealous that I’ve been payin’ more attention to your little love story than her.” 

“You wish,” Ivy mumbled into her glass. 

“Anyways,” Harley emphasized. “You gotta show him you're interested! But not over the top. He’s mentioned how he had students flirt with him to get better grades so that type ‘a flirtin’ don’t work for him.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You gotta do somethin’ else,” She explained, twirling her hair. “Y’know, I think he’d really enjoy acts of service. Take care of him a little. Ooo, maybe some quality time.” She winked.

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that?” I asked, slumping over slightly. “Ask him on a date?” Ivy looked as disinterested as ever as Harley tapped her chin in thought.

“Uhhhhmmm,” Harley hummed. “Maybe start with something smaller. Take a break together, get to know each other better.”

I hummed, thinking it over. Harley was actually giving good advice. It wasn’t over the top or brash like it usually is. She must be closer to Crane than I thought.

“I’ll try,” I nodded. It seemed easy enough.

…

Boy was I wrong. It felt nearly impossible to pull Crane away from his work, and I honestly didn’t want to. He seemed close to a breakthrough and I didn’t want to distract him…I’m not sure if it would end well for me if I did. So I decided to focus on what I do best. Acts of service. I dropped by the lab, the room feeling less daunting every time I entered without Crane shooing me out. When his coffee was low, I’d refill his cup, when he hadn't eaten anything since the morning, I’d ask if he wanted any food or snacks. 

It would be stupid to think that Crane hasn’t noticed my change in behavior. How I was providing him more aid than usual. How I started to focus on his needs more. I was just glad he didn’t bring it up, though he wasn’t the type to do that. It was a slow day today. No deals, no shipments, no rogues needing anything. So I was left to help Crane, whether it be cleaning his equipment or getting him another refill. 

“Did you need anything else Dr. Crane?” I asked, watching him drop some chemicals into a flask, the chemicals bubbling as a reaction. “Perhaps you could use a small break.”

He paused for a second, rubbing his eyes. It was hard to ignore the purple under his eyes as it continued to grow darker by the day. I could only imagine the soreness he felt as he hunched over his equipment for hours. I felt a glimmer of hope that I managed to get to him.

“I reckon a break wouldn’t hurt,” He mumbled, pushing himself to stand up. A bright grin splashed across my face, feeling giddy that he actually listened. Shrugging off his lab coat, Crane exited the lab and I trailed behind him. 

“Harley mentioned you tend to overwork yourself,” I spoke up. “But she didn’t need to tell me that since I witness it first hand almost everyday.”

“Yes,” Crane hummed, taking a seat in his office seat. It looked much more comfortable than the stool he used in the lab. “A bad habit. You’ve been talking to Harley?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, standing in front of his desk. I wasn’t fully sure if he wanted me there for his break, but the advice Harley gave rang through my head. “She’s been really nice to me. Inviting me to hang with her during her more laid-back outings…which never seem to stay that way. But I got to meet Ivy! But she doesn’t really like me, so I feel bad when I third wheel her and Harley.”

Crane quirked an eyebrow, but his reaction was as nonchalant as ever, “I wouldn’t feel too guilty, Ivy doesn’t really like anyone outside of Harley.”

“Yeah,” I shrugged, finally deciding to take a seat. “It’s nice to have friends. With my current career path and all, I didn't think I’d have any.”

A silence settled over us before Crane spoke up, “...I understand how the life of crime may be lonely.”

Even though I worked for a criminal, and I was surrounded by criminals, I always forget that I was now technically classified as a criminal. I had worked as a receptionist once when I was a teenager. A minimum wage job to give me some extra spending money. So working for Crane felt nostalgic almost. Even though I was in charge of stock, transactions, and the schedule for Crane…I never saw the aftermath. I could’ve been working for anyone with the tasks I kept, so it was easy for me to forget just how deep I was in if either Crane or I were caught. 

“Well,” I trailed off, trying to gain the courage for what I wanted to say. “I hope my presence makes it just a little less lonely around here.”

Crane was cold, distant, reclusive. That didn’t mean he wasn’t human (even if he didn’t want to admit that). Loneliness was like a disease, once the feeling’s there, it’s hard to make it dissipate. It would slowly creep through you until it would fully consume you. Some people had a higher tolerance to it, others didn’t. 

Crane seemed to be one of the few that was immune to the feeling. He, after all, never showed anything to prove contrary. Yet the hidden warmth that laid just behind his eyes screamed otherwise. Perhaps, his alias as Scarecrow was only one side of him. The side he wanted everyone to see, that he wanted everyone to cower to. But behind that mask, revealed an old man who was both tired and lonely. Perhaps a part of him craved that loneliness, I understood the need to be alone all too well, but it was clear he also craved a connection. For someone to see all of him, and to accept him for all his flaws and perfections. 

“You’ve definitely livened the space up,” He replied, his eyes trailing to the plants I’ve added to his office. “...I do appreciate what you do…thank you.”

I stared at him in awe. The master of fear, a man renowned for bringing your worst fears to life, had given me praise. He had caused my heart rate to accelerate, but it wasn’t from fear. 

…

“YES!” Harley cheered, pumping her fist in the air. “I better be the maid of honor.”

I let out a snort, “If it took this long for him to compliment me I think marriage is far, far in the future.”

“You don’t get it,” Harley grinned, bouncing in her seat. “He neva compliments anyone! He’s basically just confessed his undyin’ love for ya!”

Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t hide the amused grin that took over my lips. The idea of Doctor Jonathan Crane, the brooding workaholic scientist/terrorist professing his undying love was entertaining. A man who was a force to be reckoned with, being soft. The more I thought about it, the more I craved to witness such an event. To be someone he deems special.

The rest of the night went by smoothly. Or as smooth as it can get with Harley. She only busted one guy's ass after he tried to catcall her. So overall, a calm night. We parted ways eventually, and I seemed to have grown too comfortable in Gotham. I was surrounded by rogues! What did I have to fear when I worked with the most fearsome?

There’s nothing more fearsome than desperation. The terror that filled me at this moment was worse than my first day of working under Scarecrow! The man held a knife up to me, hands trembling as he ordered me to hand over my wallet and all other valuable items I may be carrying. I knew better than to fight. My wallet wasn’t worth more than my life. Though I was scared of what the man’s reaction will be when he realizes I don’t have anything of value. I may have been stupid enough to walk down the streets of Gotham without a buddy, but I was smart enough to keep valuables off of me.

I slowly took out my wallet, to make sure he knew I wasn’t a threat. But the man didn’t seem to be stable, whether he was coming down from a high, or was paranoid, I wasn’t sure, but he jerked the knife forward. I gasped, eyes wide as I watched the knife pierce my abdomen, my wallet dropping to the asphalt forgotten. The man also seemed surprised, as he took a step back. 

“W-wait,” I pleaded breathly, but it was too late. The man yanked the knife out and took off running. “Shit,” I whispered, pressing the wound. Moving to sit on the trash littered pavement, I tried to keep pressure on my wound as I dialed 911. 

“911 what’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asked calmly.

“I-I just got stabbed,” I replied, taking a shuddering breath in. The pain started to spread along with the blood that seeped between my fingers. “I need an ambulance.” 

I kept trying to take deep breaths as I gave them my location. My vision started to get blurry as stars filled my peripheral vision. I hoped to whatever was listening that I was close enough to a hospital. That today wouldn’t be my last day. That all I lived up to was being an assistant. Not being able to say goodbye to Harley, to Jon. I tried to stay awake, yet my eyelids were growing heavier by the second. The drone of the dispatcher felt like a lullaby as they tried to question me, keep me awake, keep me alive. 

The sound of sirens rang through my head foggily. The pressure I kept on my side had loosened as my hands started to feel colder. The searing pain started to numb as everything soon turned dark. 

…

When Jonathan had walked into the hideout that following morning, the space was unusually quiet. As he passed your desk, he noted that it hadn’t changed since you left the night before. It was strange when the smell of coffee brewing no longer filled the air. That your cheery voice hadn’t greeted him. He felt his mood sour by the second. 

Though it was odd that you were late. He couldn’t remember a day that you weren’t there to greet him. You were only human, and people made mistakes. He’ll let you off with a warning this time, but don’t make it a habit. 

After making himself a pot of coffee, he went into his lab to drown himself in his work. Like usual. Yet that stupid nagging wouldn’t leave the back of his head. Where were you? If you needed to miss work you would’ve called in. Yes, typically he didn’t really allow sick days. His goons were paid to get the job done, not to lay around and be sick. 

But you weren’t just any goon. You were his charming assistant who made his day, even if he didn’t show it. He paused his movements, eyes fogging over as he started to theorize where you could possibly be. Were you sick? Were you hurt? Maybe you forgot to call? With that thought, Jon took out his phone and called you. Each ring made his heart thump faster. When he heard your voice, a sense of comfort washed over him, only for it to be your voicemail. His comfort vanished. Remembering the fact that you had mentioned going to see Harley, he decided to call her. (Texting wasn’t really his thing).

“Hiya Jon!” Harley greeted over the phone. “You finally called!” Not wanting to waste time, Jon got right to the point, asking if she knew where you were. “Whaddya mean they’re not at work?” Harley asked, voice giving away her concern.

Jon hung up, a scowl starting to form on his face. Where the hell were you? A feeling he hadn’t felt in a long, long time started to form. His gut twisted, heart pumping faster, he felt scared. A feeling he’d normally welcome. A state he was so used to it felt like home. Yet, with the context of you possibly missing, his fear wasn’t welcome. 

It wasn’t until an hour later when relief flooded through his system. Your caller I.D. flashed on his phone screen and he didn’t hesitate to answer.

…

The first thing I heard was the sound of beeping. I scrunched my face as pain seared through my abdomen. Blearily opening my eyes, the bright light overhead seared my brain. I let out a groan as everything started to hurt. My head pounded at the same time heels clicked against the ground. Looking over, a nurse rushed over to me.

“You’re awake!” She spoke loudly, her voice irritatingly cheery for my current condition. “The doctor’s on his way.”

“What happened?” I asked, throat raspy with misuse. 

“I’ll let the doctor go over your condition,” The nurse replied patronizingly. 

“What time is it?” I asked instead, wanting to get some information.

Pulling out her phone, she glanced at it before replying, “It’s currently 10:47 am.” A knock on the door sounded through the room before the doctor entered. 

“Good morning,” The doctor greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” I grumbled, trying to shift up on the hospital bed. The nurse quickly rushed over and helped me. 

“Well, it would be concerning if you didn’t feel anything,” The doctor jokes. “I’m Dr. Bell. You’re currently in Gotham General Hospital. You were stabbed, luckily, all major organs and arteries were missed. You’ll be discharged in a few days if your wound shows no signs of infection. Do you have any questions?”

“Uhm,” I muttered, trying to take in all this information at once. “Where…are my things?”

“Would you bring their personal belongings Lynn?” Dr. Bell turned to the nurse who nodded and hurriedly, the sound of her heels following her out of the room. “Not so good news, there’s no one named under your emergency contact list, so you may have to stay longer in the hospital if you have no one to take care of you. And since you were stabbed, the police are here to do a brief interview.” I let out a sigh, leaning my head back. Dr. Bell nodded to two police officers standing just outside of my room before taking her leave. 

“Hello,” One police officer greeted me. The other slightly tipping his hat. “I’m Detective Yates, that’s my partner Tanner. I’m sure you already know why we’re here.” I nodded, pulling the thin hospital blanket further up. 

“We know this may be hard to talk about,” Tanner spoke up. “It’s still fresh, but that’s why we try ta get as much info as we can right away.”

“It’s all really blurry,” I lied. “I might not be much help.” It wasn’t blurry. I remember every second vividly. The distress in the man's dark brown eyes. How his dark brown hair was tousled and greasy like he hasn’t had a shower in days. How his hands trembled with the silver of the knife glittering under the street lights. The look of utter horror, panic, and regret that flashed in his eyes as the knife plunged through my skin. 

He was a person who needed help, not enforcement.

“Any detail will be of help,” Yates gruffed. “Do you remember how they looked?”

“He…he was tall. Maybe 5’9?” I offered. If I said nothing they’d get suspicious of my intentions. “He was wearing a hood, so I couldn’t see much besides that.”

“What clothes was he wearin’?” Tanner asked next.

“Uhm, black hoodie,” I replied. “And blue jeans.”

“How’d he act?” 

“Scared,” I replied honestly. “I don’t think he meant to hurt me. He ran off right after. Don’t remember much after that.”

Another lie. I remember the fear that rushed through me when I believed I was a goner. The pain that felt like liquid fire burning through me. The glow of the street light that shined down on me as I bleed out. Though I doubt that’s what the police needed to know.

“Thank you for your time,” Detective Yates replied, standing up with his partner. “We’ll contact you if we find anything else.”

“Thanks,” I replied awkwardly, waving at them as they left. When I finally thought I’d be left to my own devices, Nurse Lynn entered carrying my belongings. 

“You didn’t have much on you,” She said mindlessly, setting my things down on the bed beside me. “Wallet, phone, and keys. If you need anything, just press this button.” She aimlessly pointed near the side of my bed. With that, she was gone. Finally, peace and quiet…not counting the loud beeping of the heart monitor. Checking my phone, my eyes widened. Over 100 notifications. Most of them being none other than Harley Quinn.

Scrolling through the spam of texts Harley sent, my heart warmed at how much she really cared for me. 

‘Jonny called me’

‘u ok toots?’

‘helloooooooooooooo’

‘ur scaring me here’

‘Jonny never called me before y’know’

‘ANSWER ME’

‘pls’

You get the jist. I quickly typed out a short ‘I’m ok, there was a small accident but it’s all good now’. Then I finally got to the first missed call. Dr. Crane. There was something common between Harley and I. Jon never called me before either, and my nerves started getting to me. I’d never missed a day of work before. Well…only if I were sick. I’d never missed a day of work without telling Jon before. Was he angry? Would he fire me? …would I become his next test subject? 

I never thought about him like that before. I always felt a strange security around him. It was funny, I found comfort in a man who took away people's comfort. Yet that security was stripped. At the end of the day, he was still my boss. A man who didn’t take insubordination lightly. Yes I was literally stabbed, but there was that fear that still lingered. I suppose that was Jon’s entire motif. 

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the call button quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. The heart monitor beeped more rapidly each time the phone rang. It rang three times before he finally answered, my name whispered out under his breath.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Sorry about everything. I, uh, had an accident last night. Doctor said I have to stay in the hospital for a few days, maybe longer since I don’t have anyone to take care of me if I were to go home.”

It was quiet for a few beats.

“Where are you being held?” He asked, his voice low. A shiver ran up my spine at his tone.

“Gotham General Hospital,” I replied back. 

“I’ll be right there,” He muttered before hanging up. I blinked, unsure how to feel. But I couldn’t dwell on it long because I was being spam called by Harley. 

“Hi Harley,” I answered.

“What do you mean you had an accident?” She shouted, making me pull the phone away from my ear. 

“Okay, I’ll tell you everything but you gotta promise not to freak out,” I sighed. “Jon’s already on his way to visit me.”

“OMG YOU JUST CALLED HIM JON,” Harley shrieked. “Wait, you’re distracting me, what’s going on?”

“...I got stabbed.”

“YOU WHAT?” 

I bit my lip, “It sounds worse than it is…?”

“You’re not makin’ much sense toots,” Harley replied, and I could hear the frown on her face. “How can a stabbing sound worse than it is? Are you at the hospital? Please tell me you’re gettin’ cared for.”

“I’m at Gotham Central Hospital,” I stated. “It’s all stitched up. Doc said nothing vital was hit and I just need time to heal. Like I said, it sounds worse than it is.”

Clearly pouting, Harley huffed, “I wish I could visit ya, but I think that’d cause a bit of a hassle.”

I laughed lightly before flinching at the pain it caused, “Yeah, I’d rather you not get arrested.”

“Tell me when you get out, okay?” Harley asked.

“Okay,” I agreed, a warm grin painting my lips.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Do ya know who did it?” Harley finally asked. “I’d just like ta pay ‘em a little visit.”

Looking down at my lap, my smile turned more somber, “You don’t gotta do that Harls’. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind.”

“...” Harley stayed silent before responding. “That don’t matta. You got hurt, end of story. End of theirs too.”

I sighed, “No.”

“You got a big heart toots,” Harley sighed. “A little too big if ya ask me.”

I chuckled once more, “Yeah yeah.”

“You get betta for me, alright suga’?” She asked somberly. 

“Of course,” I agreed. 

“And you better call me!”

“I will.”

“...you callin’ him Jon now?” She asked, and I could just imagine the cheeky grin she held. 

My heart stuttered at the implication, “I…it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Mhmmm,” She hummed. “No, of course not. You’ve just been callin’ him Crane for what? Two years now?”

“...”

Harley chuckled at my silence, “Alright, I’ll stop teasin’ ya. You get some rest, okay? I need my best friend back in tip top shape!”

“Aye, aye captain,” I saluted, even if she couldn’t see. 

“Bye bye toots.”

“Bye Harley.”

I felt myself relax, looking over to the small tv that rested in the corner of the room. I picked up the remote that laid on the side table and scrolled through the channels. I frowned as nothing good seemed to be on, and it was hard to see the screen anyways. Why did they put it in the farthest corner of the room?

The sound of knocking resounded through the room, and a nurse entered the room shortly, “You have a visitor.” None other than Jonathan Crane towered behind the nurse. He was as put together as always, the only sign of something being wrong was the intensity of his gaze as it fell onto my figure. The nurse exited just as quickly, closing the door behind her. 

The tension felt high as silence consumed the room. I picked at the linens, anxiety suddenly running through me. Talking to Harley helped me calm down about the situation, but Jon brought me back to reality. 

“Just an accident?” Jon asked, his face never leaving its calm expression.

I offered a sheepish grin, “Does someone get stabbed on purpose?”

His face remained stoic, not a hint of amusement as I tried to diffuse the tension. Jon took a seat in the cheap plastic chair that sat next to the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, the rage in his eyes dying down into a warm caring look. 

I shrugged, “It hurts. I’m tired, a bit hungry.”

“Have you eaten anything yet?”

“No,” I shook my head. The previous tension had dissipated into a warmth. Maybe I should get stabbed more often if Jon would take care of me. Nah, the pain wasn’t all that fun.

…

With Jon taking care of me, my feelings towards him only grew stronger. He’d try to help me through the trauma I gained from the interaction. Trauma I didn’t even realize I really had. I would wake up in a cold sweat some nights, the feeling of the knife penetrating my skin feeling as real as it did the night of the attack. I also couldn’t get over the hopelessness I felt that night. The need to see the people I cared about most just one last time. How I took our interactions for granted. 

I watched with gratitude as Jon pressed the back of his hand on my forehead, making sure I didn’t have a fever. Making sure I wasn’t catching an infection, even though my wound had nearly fully healed. The sudden urge to confess my feelings consumed me. This wasn’t how a boss normally treated their employee. This was how someone treated a loved one.

I wished to see his soft side, and now I saw it, and I never wanted to let go.

“Jon,” I whispered, my breath fanning over his face. His blue eyes met mine, urging me to continue with his expression alone. 

Fear drives people. That’s what Jon theorized. And with recent events, I’ve come to realize that he’s right. I was afraid of rejection, and so I kept how I felt to myself. Now, I was afraid he’ll never know how I feel. How much I care for him, how much I admire and appreciate him. 

“Thank you, for everything,” I thanked, taking in just how handsome he was. “Would you be okay with getting a coffee together?”

The faintest look of surprise crossed his features before that barely there grin pulled his lips up, “Sounds like a treat.”

“Then it's a date,” I grinned, closing the distance and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

[moon-buggg]

hi hi hi!

I just looked through the entirety of the haunted house au tag (again) and i don’t think i saw u answer this sorta ask yet sooooo….

does y/n ever bring stuff from the outside world into the haunt for the boys? ik you’ve written about movies, but i was thinking about toys, props, little gifts and souvenirs from the places they visit. Showing the boys photos and videos on their phone.

i know that i definitely would be thinking about my weird endearing robo clown coworkers all the time when i was away from the job and want to show them little bits of the world outside since they cant experience it for themselves. im curious also if the haunt management would actually discourage this sorta thing but y/n sneaks nicknacks in anyway 😝

also…

i have something coming ur way very very soon…🤫… i was gonna not say anything until i posted but im really excited and couldn’t help myself 🫨

also also wishing you a swift recovery!

oooh I hadn't considered this! It's very cute ^^

I could very much see yn showing the boys pictures and memes and shit on their phone or when they bring a laptop in for movie night. Physical gifts would be a bit harder, because the boys don't have any sort of space to like. actually keep stuff you know? The closest thing would be Sun's 'stage' for his scenes with yn, but thats part of the show and very much can't be decorated. Any gifts would have to be hidden away, most likely in the vents/crawl spaces Moon uses to sneak between rooms.

but now that you've suggested it I can't stop thinking about it it's so fun! Like imagine they have to do some repair work on the vents and they just find a shit ton of random stuff with no explanation for how it got there?? And yn and the boys both just have to be like 'thats sooo weird! wonder who's responsible?' and walk away while whistling.

I think if management caught wind they'd probably have a sit down talk with yn about not anthropomorphizing the animatronics. Because, yes, they move and talk like humans and can respond to what you're saying, but they don't have feelings. They don't need gifts. And it would be really awkward for everyone involved (and very embarrassing/frustrating for yn who Knows the boys are more sentient than everyone thinks) and would probably drive a further wedge between yn and the rest of their coworkers because like. that's Weird right?? That the scare actor seems to think the animatronics are Actually alive???

Anyways if I was yn I would bring them clown themed objects

Very very excited to see what you've got in the works I love your art!!! <3<3

Also thank you ^^ I seem to be on the upswing thankfully lol

[blacklegsanjiii]

i think truly the most absurd parenting scenario we could put sanji in is with Real Pirate King Buggy 🦅🦅🦅🦅

Sanji would really suit that like. commedia dell’arte venetian theatre. Sanji would make a fine Arlecchino or Tartaglia (both lover roles, but Arlecchino or ‘the Harlequin’ is often a trickster character too)

Buggy would unironically be an incredible father tho. like. i am fully confident that there is nothing Buggy doesn’t excell in despite his pathetic soppy wet cat existence. He’s a COMPETENT soppy wet cat.

Sanji growing up as an acrobat in Buggy’s circus and getting doted on by all the crew oh ya know he’d love the dramatic flamboyance of it all.

Listen.

Listen, you're cooking. And it smells GREAT! But I think we need to adjust the seasoning a bit. Buggy managed to successfully hide in the East Blue and be forgotten from Roger's crew and all his adversaries. Like Buggy has to be running a network of some sort. He probably has informants in the New World ya know? For sure in the Grand Line.

I don't really fuck with Shuggy ATM(crossguild brain rot) but like also Buggy probably knows about Usopp and Luffy and that's part of why he signed the(forged) adoption papers. Sanji is also probably skilled with all sorts of weapons? His kitchen knives are not weapons but like he has a set of knives that are always hidden on him. He probably shows Usopp a bunch of spices and stuff that are good for bombs and Nami and Robin are confused about exactly how much in universe Shakespeare, albeit Robin is impressed. Luffy just knows but imagine Zoro finds out when the cook, who doesn't fight with his hands just swallows a Marines sword to distract them right before Luffy Gum Gum Pistols them.

Rayleigh talks more about Shanks and Sanji is just looking at his nails and briefly brings up Buggy. And Sanji can't help himself when he says "at least he's not a dead beat, he didn't abandon me" which makes Robin laugh and Luffy and Usopp ask what means and Sanji is like "you both haven't seen the Redhair crew since you were in the single digits, Buggy saw me at Baratie three weeks before you lot wrecked it and he would stop by every couple of weeks normally" And the crew is shook.

Like then Sanji just proudly showing everyone his photo of the Buggy Pirates, him, and Buggy in the adoption office and then again with just Buggy and Sanji and the paper and the jolly Roger. Rayleigh is having heart palpitations as Nami, Luffy, and Zoro scream at how lame his dad is and Sanji is like "oh you guys are the reason he's in Impel Down this makes sense" and Rayleigh is losing it. Shakky is laughing so hard. Rayleigh asks if anyone is planning to get Buggy out of prison and Sanji shrugs and says the lion is in charge now.

And then after the time skip to the forming of the crossguild everyone keeps shitting on. Like imagine Mihawk and Croc walking into Buggy's tent and seeing Black Leg Sanji as a child in full clown get up sitting on his own head in a photo and next to it is the adoption photo. When they ask Buggy about it hes just like "oh yeah, I adopted him at ten. Saw him all the time after he started at Baratie. Unfortunate he's not out of his civilian phase yet." And Croc and Mihawk are reeling. "Then again I think having to relive his trauma in Germa and with Big Mom probably didn't help, oh well. I'll talk to him about it when I see him."

When they see each other is some meeting between the Hats, the Guild and Redhair Pirates Luffy and Usopp are really happy to see their dad's. Sanji is probably being passed around by Buggy's crew and petting Richie who has him pinned to the ground and Crocodile is groaning that the clown's kid did the whole Mr. Prince thing and Shanks is confused because "you didn't tell me you had a brat?"

"well I legally adopted him eleven years ago and when Garp found out he said I was a better dad than you and Roger and Rayleigh so."

[chatisthisfr]

You're sexy when you're angry-John Bender (PART TWO)

John bender x fem!reader

lime

(Part One)

summary: you were just a mere class clown but you never did something so bad to get you in Saturday detention. that was until your enemy in class blamed one of Benders actions on you, the action being spilling her coffee on all her electronics while the teacher was in the restroom, making them unusable. you now weren't too fond of bender. for now

Your pov

"How wild" Bender smirks at you. I blush, knowing what he's thinking. wait, why am i blushing. This is John Bender, A jerk, a weirdo, a perv. or atleast, that's what you heard. "Aw look at you. you got all flustered. was it me or what i said. or both" he smirks, making me blush more. I look away from him "It's just what you said. Don't say that crap, okay" "whatever, sweets." He smirks and looks away from me. damnit what was i feeling. i can't be attracted to him. hes a player. an idiot. "Come on babes, you don't have to deny the feelings towards me. I know I'm a charmer." "Never in a million years Bender." He smirks and takes the seat next to me. "Why so agitated. Just chill out a little, alright doll?" I glare at him. "Don't call me that." "You know you love me." He puts his arm around my shoulder and wraps his arm around my neck in a certain seductive way. He moves his rough gloved fingers along my neck to collar bone and back and forth. "Say you love me, Doll" He smirks and whispers in my ear. "Never in a million years." "Bender won't you stop harassing the girl. Leave her alone." Andy finally speaks up. "Awe if she wanted me to stop she'd ask." "This is me asking. Stop." "Well I didn't say I would listen, did I?" He smirks at me. "Bender this is your final warning. If you don't stop I will take that match and shove it up your ass. You better watch yourself man or your gonna get it." He just stares at me. Not threatened. Not scared. And not stopping. "You're sexy when your angry."

My anger boiled in me. Partly because it was John bender and he was walking over me but also because I was confused. Why was I feeling this way. Why did I think about that stare longing for it to come back. But I can't show that So I gotta show what I need to show.

I violently grab his hand and bring him a few feet from the chair and throw him against a wall. I pick him up from his neck and look at his eyes. Everyone's watching this unfold "Bender you are testing me and you better stop." He had a hint of anger in his eyes but still all what was on his mind was how sexy your where. He smirks again. "You know what I think is funny. I say you look sexy when you're angry and here you are still angry. It's almost like you know how it makes me feel and you want me to keep feeling it.

I can't take it anymore. I can't hide these feelings. I drop him to the ground and walk away. "Follow me bender." I lead him to a hidden corner in the library. Where no one can see us. He catches up and stands in front of me. "Well well well I guess I was rig-" I grab his neck again but this time I bring him to me. He immediately starts making out with me. Eager. He's been eager all day. He needs you and finally here you are. You spend the entire rest of the day with each other doing what ever you want.

The teacher gives both of you detention again but you don't mind. Just another time to be with each other able to do what ever you two want.

[randomnameless]

What do you think about the take that there's no freedom of religion in Fodlan because there's a woman who worships a foreign deity in the abyss?

More or less the same thing than the take about Colonel Sanders being jailed in Garreg Mach because Rhea wants all those chicken tenders for herself.

More seriously,

Bar Claude speaking with his ass, and apparently Leonie being worried that the Church might be crossed with Claude mentionning he's not religious - even if in Leicester it's pretty much known far and wide that the nobles adopt a pious font for PR - I prefer believing the words of, you know, the CoS officials aka Rhea and Seteth on that matter, the CoS's doctrine - at least for the Central Church - doesn't forbid practice of other religions or faiths.

The Western Church being xenophobic most likely would be pissed at, say, random duscurian person worshiping Duscurian gods, but as for the central church? They, just, dgaf.

Now, in the Abyss, there's a pagan statue - from a Dagda deity per Shamir in Nopes! - and a woman praying there, who was apparently harassed for not following the Seiros faith.

But... if freedom of religion was banned :

1/how the fuck this 20 meters tall statue managed to be placed in Fodlan's Vatican's basement without anyone noticing

2/why Seteth and Rhea, when asked, said they don't impose the Seiros faith on people

3/why Leicesterians are allowed to be "pious for show" if religion was so important?

As always with Fodlan, we have some things told by several characters who are playable/talkable in the base game (tfw Seteth mentions how they don't force people to worship first in FEH, and then in Nopes, but nothing in FE16 + Cyril's supports that no one bothers to read because fig him I guess and ultimately they don't matter because Claude can't look like a clown in VW) and they are contradicted by either, flavor text, screening through various lines of hidden dialogue or, flat out, lines said in the gacha or the musou spin off.

Now, about that Dagdan woman, why was she in the Abyss, aka, a CoS shelter ?

Because she worships a different god and that's frowned upon by, uh, the very same church that shelters her? And this church gives her a place to worship her deity?

Or, if we take clues and connect dots from two astral planes, could it make more sense that this person ended up in the Abyss because she was Dagdan, and from Shamir's backstory we know Dagdans aren't that beloved by Fodlan people, after their multiple attempted invasions of Adrestia? Dagdan Woman must have looked for some shelter and found one - as for where or who put that statue here, I can't guess, but given how the Abyss is a place for people who cannot live at the surface without being picked on/harassed/threatened, I suppose the purpose of that statue being there was more in the lines of "as long as you're here if you want to worship your god you can do so" and less in the lines of "I'm so not tolerant at all that I will create a space in my holiest place where you can worship your god, because i hate other religions than my own".

If there is a general point to be made about "freedom of religion" in Fodlan, it's more about the lack of reliable (so, no Claude and his "I'll smash open the land and get rid of its backwards values unless I go to school") info about how tolerant the various countries that compose Fodlan are, and how some people from the CoS aren't on the same wavelength as Rhea and Seteth are.

Do they have some sort of responsability in this matter? Maybe in their hands-off approach to let the regional branches preach what they want or not adopt a stricter control on what is being taught but the game - and most likely that take - isn't bothered by all intricacies of how to conduct a faith/religion, otherwise I'd call a double standard over the CoS being BaD because they don't tell Father McRandom from Leicester to stop making randoms believe they can't have faith in other religion than the Seiros faith, but not calling out Ionius on not acting against Hanneman's brother in law when he fucked his wife so much that she died, or Lambert for Matthias keeping a kid as a hostage, or Claude's Uncle not frowning at Gloucester killing Raph's parents (the nopes retcon notwithstanding).

[beaningeneraldenial]

Clown is angry.

He has every right to be; for about a week now, he's been trying to track down the guy who shot him in the head with little to no success. A few rumors here, a few rumors there. People around have been calling him 'Hot Guy', because apparently that's his only catchphrase.

Oh, yeah. The man is trying to play hero. In Lifesteal, there are no heroes. You're either a villain or a peasant trying to stay alive a day longer and now that stranger is trying to cause issues for everyone.

'Everyone' being the people in the heart trading business. That includes Clown as well but he only wants revenge -though a free target for hearts would be nice too.

"There is this avian who has been spotted with him", Branzy comments off-handedly from the bed, where he is tinkering with some cogs and wires and some other bits that Clown couldn't hope to name. "He's called 'Cute Guy', god knows why. They're a hero duo now"

Clown lets his forehead bang against the desk, right next to Branzy's elaborate redstone blueprints and his own neat row of knives.

Some shuffling comes from the bed, followed by footsteps and the badly hidden chuckles of his partner in crime. Leave it to Branzy to console someone through their sulking.

"There, there, Clown" -he pats his back- "You're the deadliest assassin in all of Lifesteal. Even if they're stab-proof, they aren't trap-proof"

---------

The following week is a whole lot of diggin'. Well, it's more like Clown watching Branzy run around the old funhouse design in the bottom of his casino, connecting and disconnecting wires and repairing the damages Vitalasy and Cube caused the last time they were down there. This lucrative endeavor of an establishment has been closed for that period of time, so that the new 'content' won't be leaked.

All he does is wriggle his fingers together as he sees the plan slowly but surely take shap and sharpen his scythe until the blade can slice the thinnest, most see-through slice of a tomato.

"How- It's that sharp?", Branzy is bewildered at the sight of the perfectly skinned tomato on the bar counter. Clown grins. "You know what, I won't even ask how you managed to do that"

"It was a lot of hard work, sweat and tears of the innocent"

"Tears of the innocent"

"I had to test the sharpness somehow"

Branzy stares for a second, then shakes his head, gives him a pointed look, silently communicating 'The less I know, the less I can confess in court' and walks back to the pit.

----------

Hot Guy and Cute Guy are a lot easier to lure than anticipated. Upon opening night, Clown spots the two bantering with some guests near the blackjack tables from the overhead, 'Staff Only' balcony. He gently nudges Branzy's side and watches as the man walks down the stairs to go collect them.

As he does that, Clown grabs his scythe and descends to the bottom of the funhouse pit.

The swirling red, purple and black colours are familiar and comforting. He stands right in the middle of the floor, listening intently on the laughter and joyful screaming coming from the funhouse rooms that are meters above.

Soon, the first target is falling through the ceiling. It's Hot Guy, the wingless of the duo and the sickening crunch that follows his fall is music to Clown's ears. He doesn't pounce yet, wanting to kill two birds with one stone.

Cute Guy is close to the other's timing. Though winged, the avian can't do much more than flap his parrot wings fruitlessly and collide with the wall and then slide to the ground in cartoon fashion.

"Welcome to the Funhouse!", Clown calls out, dashing to Hot Guy and swinging his scythe. The man yells and shouts apologies at him to stop but the blade has already been set into motion.

The other hero has managed to stand on shaky legs by the time he's done with the now-corpse that is already sizzling away, one heart down and Clown one heart up. Back to twenty.

"Hey, we can talk about this, fella!"

Clown doesn't think that they can talk about this. Silent as always, he stalks towards his pray. Branzy whistles above, probably looking at the bloody mess that is the pit he worked so hard on.

And Cute Guy pulls a gun out of nowhere. A pink gun with a heart on either side to match his equally pink outfit. The warning shot misses Clown's ear by a hair. It's a power play, he undesrtands that but now that he has an audience to appease, he has to play into the theatrics as well.

"Next time, I won't miss!", his voice dances. There is a light tremble to it; barely there but Clown's senses are enhanced and he picks up on it without issue.

Then he slices clean through the muzzle of the gun with his scythe. The hero is absolutely shell-shocked, shrieking and Clown laughs as he mocks him.

"Next time, I won't miss!", he follows through with his words. The guy's heart doesn't add to his count but it instead floats right above the hero's corpse. It's a deep purple with a swirling darkness inside it; Clown has never seen anything like it.

At the end of it, all that's left is the blood, the adrenaline and the slow, impressed clapping coming from Branzy.

Revenge had been served.

[iisuya-simps]

A/N: HI, ITS BEEN A WHILE haha... How've you been? AH. I HAVE MADE A HORRIBLE WONDERFUL DISCOVERY THAT IS BUGGY AI. We've gone too far ladies and gentlemen... and I don't care! I need to feed this hyper fixation. And why not share it with yall since we all seem down to clown with the clown.🤡 I cant believe this smh...☠️

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Summary: You've somehow taken the map from the Straw Hats and can now navigate to the Grand Line. But Buggy and his crew are hot on your trail. You can surrender the map, for a price of course... how far are you willing to go?

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Oh, I've got you now." Buggy snickered as he walked around you, his finger running up your neck and chin to tilt your head up. You were currently chained up in the middle of his big top while he looked down at you.

"I didn't take you for an BDSM clown but you're full of surprises, Buggy. Well, hang on... Now that I think about it, it actually makes a lot of sense."

“ENOUGH!" Buggy yells pointing the knife in his other hand towards you. He narrows his eyes then lowers it gaining some composure. "Tell me where it is. I know you have my map,” He purred pacing circles around you. “I don’t want to have to hurt a pretty little thing like you. So tell me, darling,”

"Aw, you think I'm pretty? I'm flattered. But why are you still going on about that old thing?" I turn my head to look at him and smirk. "What if I could give you something better?" Buggy stops in his tracks and peers over.

"Ah, now you've got my attention, lass." Buggy's eyes narrowed slightly as you got his hopes up that he was finally getting "his" map back. "What exactly did you have up your sleeve? Go on," he urged, his gaze locked unwaveringly on yours.

"Well, not exactly up my sleeve... you might have to pat me down and search me first." I wink. "Though I think you would have an easier time if you took these off." I try to give a little shimmy but the chains limit my movement. "The only thing this is doing is turning me on."

Buggy's eyes widened at your teasing suggestion as his curiosity grew. He dropped the knife in his hand then reached into the back pocket of this pants and produced a key, hesitating for a moment but then impatiently unlocking the pad locks by your hands then gently removing your arms from the chains letting them fall to the ground.

Buggy looked you up and down with a hunger in his eyes, running his hands across your body. This only made him more determined to know what you were hiding. "Now then, lass, where might it be?" he inquired, a sly smile taking the corners of his mouth.

You tap your chin. "Hmm, why don't you try under my shirt?" I smirk and bite my lip. 

Buggy followed your instruction and slowly, carefully lifted up the hem of your shirt up to your chin, his fingers grazing your soft skin along the way. You didn't mind the depraved clown searching you, as long as you could complete your task you would do whatever it takes. Besides, a little cop n feel wouldn't hurt anyone. Might as well enjoy it.

His gloved hand sliding up your stomach then over to your sides, he pats them down with slight disappointment on his face.

Then there's a lusty glint in his eye as he reaches up and cups your breasts giving each one a squeeze. "Mmh." You can't help but let out a little sigh.

"Hmm, nothing there." Buggy pulls down your shirt and places his hands on his hips. "Where else I wonder?" He taps his chin as if to mock you. You roll your eyes and scoff. "Fuckin' tease."

Buggy reaches around your hips down to your ass he felt a small flutter of excitement as he spotted something concealed beneath the waistband at the back your shorts. "Right, and what's this, then?" he asked with a smirk, pulling out the precious map rolled up tight and hidden away. "Just what I was looking for!" he exclaimed happily jumping around in a circle, then rolling it up and pocketing it. "Wait a minute." His eyes narrow. "That was far too easy."

"You got what you wanted yes?" I cross my arms over my chest. "I suppose..." He takes a step forward.

"Let's see if there's anything else you have hidden away, eh?" Buggy said suggestively, his gaze lingering on your face.

You flush and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Try checking down below. There might be something waiting for you." I wink pulling at the waistband of my shorts. My heart starts to beat out of my chest.

Buggy raised an eyebrow and moved closer towards you, a devious grin creeping across his face. "And just what am I about to find below? Another map, perhaps?" he asked, his breath coming in short, sharp intakes as he teased you. His curiosity piqued, he leaned in closer towards you, his eyes taking in every inch of your body, his lips just centimeters away from yours. "Perhaps I should have another feel and see," he whispered seductively as his hands moved down the front of your torso and down towards your lower body.

I try not to make a sound but a small gasp escapes me as Buggy inches his fingers lower. Buggy felt a jolt of excitement as you let out the gasp, his mind racing with thoughts of what he might have uncovered below your waistband. His eyes look crazed and locked onto yours, in a swift motion, he suddenly swept his hands forward, sliding his fingers between the fabric and pushing it down toward your knees. "What do we have here?" he whispered seductively as he looked down at what he uncovered.

You wore a simple pair of underwear but it didn't make you look any less sexy to Buggy. You can see him lick his lips in anticipation.

"See Buggy, you can have your map, and you can have me." I reach out to caress his cheek.

Buggy's heart was racing as he looked down at what you were offering him. His eyes widened and he took a step back in surprise, his face becoming flushed.

"T-That's hardly necessary, my dear," he said softly, his hand coming up to cover your own delicate touch. "All I want is my map." He looked at you, searching your eyes to see if there were any ulterior motives to your offer. "You don't have to give yourself to me." He swallows looking you up and down. "But It's not like I'd be so bold as to refuse you, though," he chuckled. "Do you really have nothing better to do than to fuck a clown?"

You giggle and shake your head. "Oh don't back out on me now. Not after we've gotten this far." One hand holds the back of his neck while the other snakes down his abdomen then groin feel the bulge in his pants. Buggy's eyes widened as he looked down and spotted what you were doing, your hand moving further down his body. He froze, his heart racing. "Don't refuse me Buggy. I'm yours to take as you please." I say almost breathless and lean closer to him.

"B-But we barely know each other." "Has that ever stopped you before?" "You just happened to catch me in a good mood and besides, I'm a pirate. I've never..." he said, his voice trailing off as his eyes searched yours, trying to gauge your intentions. "What do you hope to gain here?" he asked, his gaze locked on yours as he struggled to make sense of your advances.

You snatched your hand back and sat down besides Buggy and sighed in frustration. He joined you looking a bit puzzled.

"Let me join your crew, be your second in command. I'll help you on any missions or schemes. I'll hold my own and promise not to get in your way. Besides" I take his hand in mine and squeeze. "Dont you get lonely out here on the sea?"

Buggy's eyes widen at your proposition and he looks down at your hand caressing his. "Loneliness doesn't bother a pirate like myself," he said calmly, though his heart was racing in his chest. "To take a strange woman on board? It certainly would be a unique experience."

I laugh. "I'm not that strange, am I? You're the clown after all."

"I suppose I am, aren't I?" Buggy joked, his tone light and playful. "Very well, you've proven yourself worthy. You shall be my second in command," he said solemnly. "By the way, I'm always game for some fun, just don't fall in love with me, or try to usurp my position and we shall get along just fine."

That exchange went better than you expected, perhaps to easily. It's obvious you two are playing the same game with different strategies. But you're not going to give up the facade like that. You can't afford to. Not until you finish what needs to be done.

"So, what's your name, my second in command?" he asked, a faint smirk on his face as he looked at you.

The names Y/N. I wink reaching out my hand which Buggy gently shook it, his eyes lingering on yours. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Y/N," he said with a slight bow. "Well, I suppose you know what comes next," he said with a slight grin.

You chuckle. "Oh, I think I do." Buggy flashes a toothy grin and shoots upwards.

"We must celebrate with a night of... wine and merriment! What say you, my dear?" Buggy extends his hand to you, a bright smile beaming across his face.

You nod. "Dont have to threaten me with a good time." I take his hand and he hoists me up. We take a moment to study each other, looking for something more in the others eyes.

Buggy laughed lightly, giving your hand a squeeze. "Shall we then?" he asked, gesturing away from the circus are and towards the Big Top ship docked in the port.

Inside, wine and food were already being prepared in anticipation of the evening's celebrations. Buggy looked down at you and smiled, his hand still in yours, your fingers laced together.

You enter the ship and Buggy pulls you up with him to the front of the bow. "Attention!" The crew pays no mind at first and continues to hustle around prepping the boat. Buggy clears his throat.

"QUUIIIEEEET!" Buggy screams making everyone come to a halt. "My crew." Buggy shuffles in his back pocket and pulls out the map lifting it high. "The map is mine!" Everyone erupts in cheers.

"We also have a new member of the crew." Buggy lifts up our hand that are still intertwined. "This is Y/N, my second mate!" Murmuring and whispers are exchanged amongst the people when one questions. "Uh, Captain Buggy? I thought I was next in line to become your second mate?" One of the crew mates ask. "Yeah well, you didn't find my map, she did. So you will treat her with respect as you would me. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Captain Buggy!" The crew responds. "Very well, I did it! It's time to celebrate!!" They cheer once more and continue the prep. Buggy hops down the stairs and turns back to you. "The food should be almost ready and I'm starved, you coming?" "Yes, just give me a moment to freshen up." "Okey dokey, but say." He hops back up the stairs and leans forward.

"How on earth were you able to get your hands on the map when my men couldn't?" He raised a brow, genuinely curious. "I have my ways." You winked. "That you do. Well, you'll have to tell me all about it later." I nod.

"In any matter, I believe a reward is in order, don't you think?" There's a gleam in his eyes that was present earlier putting butterflies in your stomach. "I agree. Now if you'll excuse me a moment." You bow. "I'll be back for the toast!"

You make your way to the bottom of the boat looking for a quiet place. Making sure you weren't followed you turn a corner and reach into your hair bun. There was a small box that when opened revealed a small transponder snail. You dial in a number and wait for the call to connect.

"Hey, I'm in. Buggy has the map." "Excellent." The man on the other end sounds pleased. "I'm expecting a report tomorrow evening. Do not deviate from the plan." "No worries, I got this in the bag." I smirk. "That fool has no idea what's waiting for him."

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A/N: You guys, I can't get this clown outta my mind fr fr. Fantasize about him 9-5 5-9😩

Do you want more? We've barely begun to scratch the surface, I have some ideas and want to ride out this Buggy train to the end of the line. Whereever that is!

[talesfromsiteredacted]

SCP: Special Craft Projects

A list of weird requests I've had for various things on site. Some from staff, some from our residents. And one from a kitten, via his human spokesperson.

035 once asked me to do some calligraphy for him. He wanted a quote in copperplate, bright red ink. The quote? "Have you considered the possibility that it is, in fact, your fault?" To be sent to 079. Request denied on order of O5.

682 once asked me for a hat. Granted, he looked really cute with his yellow bobble hat last winter. Next winter... he gets a matching hat and scarf.

Dr. Gears asked me to do some diagrams for him... for an Indian motorcycle engine. Not my best, but they still hang in the lobby to his office.

Dr. Clef keeps asking me for a lei. Not sure if he's teasing me.

053 has a standing order for cookies once a week, for her tea parties with 682 and 999. Did not know jellybean cookies were a thing, but they are now!

Agent Strelnikof asked me to make some toys for Niko. Wound up making a few, ranging from little hacky sack things filled with cellophane to a catnip banana. The cheese pillow was a hit though, it was a block of swiss with hidden little treat pockets where the holes were. Niko sleeps on it.

Abel asked me for a crochet sheep. With a sword. Wound up creating a weirdly cute Link/sheep mix plushie.

Origami shoes. Just... how? Why? And how much of the wacky lettuce led to this one?

Hand Drawn Cassie once asked me to draw her ice skating. That was fun.

Cain asked me to crochet him a cactus. A six foot tall cactus, with flowers. Still debating on that one.

A Mario chain chomp, with chain.

Another 035 calligraphy request: "Already disturbed, just go away already!" This one I gave into. It's on the outside of his door on days he can't be bothered.

049 requested a couple of signs himself. First, a dual sided plaque with the classic Doctor is in/out, and then... Autopsy in progress, please do not disturb.

Several people have asked me to crochet scarves, hats, toys... but only Leonard "Lenny the Letch" O'Hare would ask me to make him a hooker. Denied. In fact... Clef and I laughed him right out of the boss' office on that one.

A sailboat. Full sized. How?

Two goldfish, real size. Granted, used embroidery floss.

Got asked to draw a few NSFW things of certain anomalies. Denied. First... 076-2 and 073 are my brothers. Iris is my sister. Not biologically, but that is a line I do not cross. Second... not my style. Third... Abel doesn't like you, Karin. At all.

Dr. Iceberg asked me to bake him a pecan pie once. Not all that weird, but Iceberg doesn't really ask for a lot, or often. He said it was almost as good as his mom's. I call that high praise indeed.

Since Clef found out I can cook, I get weekly requests for cheesecake. I'm running out of recipes! Another unexpected hit: lemon cake.

343 asked me to make him a door sign. Nothing fancy, just "Please wipe your feet". Granted.

Geoff, one of our elevator guys, asked me to crochet him a mini Chris Redfield. Gave him a matched set of Redfields, after all can't break up siblings, right?

A Tetris themed afghan, for Agent Markovich. Iris wanted a surprise for his birthday. That was a fun challenge.

Used to muck about making my own dice for RPGs. I had to stop due to getting headaches. That... and the last dice I made, an eyebleeding neon tie dye nightmare set for Dr. Bright. Never. Again.

Dr. Glass asked me for some ink blots, like the psych test ones. He also asked me to do some garden landscapes for him. Both are framed, landscapes in the lobby. The ink blots are at his apartment.

Clown shoes. Nope, I do not think so.

Golf clubs. Not kidding. Had to say no on that one.

A life size version of 999. I'm thinking about it. Maybe as Evie's Yule gift this year.

Origami grenades. How are those even supposed to work, Clef?

A cape. Hey, anything you need, Cactus Man.

A ball gag. Yes, for Dr. Bright. Denied. Just order from Adam & Eve, Dr. Rights! Or... 100 mph tape.

Shotgun cozies. Didn't even know such things existed.

Wizard's hat, blue velvet, with hidden pockets. Eobard, my man... those things never stay on, plus I am not a hatmaker! What's wrong with a hood?

106 asked me for a skeleton once. It's almost done, just gotta assemble Mr. Squishybones. Once I figure out how.

A mini version of 682. Yes, it was for 053, Evie. She sleeps with it.

A voodoo doll of Dr. Gears. Not for pins, though... 166 wanted to hug it, so maybe he'd cheer up a little. Clef thought it was cute, granted. No signs it's working yet though.

Voodoo doll of Dr. Clef. I did make one, but since it was intended for bad purposes... that went to 166 too. Clef has been less edgy since, so maybe it works?

Mikell Bright once asked me to make a few pieces of jewelry for him. Nothing fancy, just a chainmaille bracelet for Claire and a necklace for one of his lady companions. Took me a few weeks, but in the end it was good enough. The damn bracelet was worse, that was supposed to be almost like a bracer. I no longer do chainmaille.

035 asked for a bubblegum pink crochet bikini. Managed to talk him out of it. Dr. Gears thanked me for that. Weird Thursday, but that's the Foundation for you.

A cup of coffee. With googly eyes. Dr. Glass has him on his bookcase in his office, calls him Dr. Java. Cute, but also good for getting younger patients to open up.

And finally... yet another rejected Karin Moritana request: photorealistic nude blanket of Abel. Nope. Nope. Nope. That is a giant nope, and yes... I did make her go see Dr. Glass about her obsession with my brother. Clearly, homegirl needs help.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Some of My WTNV/DC AU no one asked for:

Janet Lubelle: Then he goes "Janet we can't keep going like that, there's an ethics code for a reason."

Jonathan Crane: What a coward!

Lubelle: Right?! I tried to make him see reason, I went: "Carlos, the pursue of answers should meet no bounds. That what we call ethics are just arbitrary rules created because people are just too emotional over the truth and it's methods" and the absolute asshole just packed his things and left the university! He got transfered to Gotham because his lil baby fewings got hurt. People die all the time. They should be honored they died for science.

Jonathan: Exactally!

Lubelle: Well I couldn't let he have all the fun while not being totaly driven to understand Gotham. So I'm here.

Jonathan: And you want for us to exchange research pappers and text subjects?

Lubelle: Only some of those. Make it peer reviewed.

Jonathan: It'll be a pleasure.

---

Kevin: And the family would never ever stop smiling again, not only because of the scars they carved in adoration but because the Smilling God entered their minds and broke them until they were happy even as their house burn with their grandma inside. The end.

Joker: *amazed and a bit spooked* Say what?

Kevin: Oh! You only heard the end part! This is my favorite childhood fairy tale. Is soo heartwarming!

Joker: I like you!

Kevin: *smilling even wilder* Thank you, newcommer. *points to the bloodied spot in Jokers suit* You have a great taste in clothing!

Joker: Why, thank you. I also like yours. I'm Joker!

Kevin: I heard about you! Your smilex killed some of my followers.

Joker: *ready to fight* Oh bummer.

Kevin: No, no, it was great. I never saw them so happy their smilles were so wide. I had to try it for myself. Didn't work unfortunally. *almost drops smille* But not to fret! The Smilling God knows what He does, they were unable to smile by themselfs. I have no such a problem and need no solution.

Joker: And people say I am crazy.

Kevin: *threatning* This is a mean thing to say, don't you think?

Joker: Oh no, my new friend, I consider madness to be a compliment.

Kevin: Friend? Are we friends? I always wanted a friend. The last one gave me a letter and leaved!

Joker: *a bit too much in manipulative mode but also genuinally impressed with this random new crazy rogue* I would love to be your friend. Nay, your best friend. I'm a clown and it's a pleasure to meet other people focused in making everyone smile. What do you think?

Kevin: YES! *jumps excitedly* Best friends, please!

---

Charles: All I am saying is...

Tim: Look I am impressed you figured out mt secret identy and you're a really nice guy but I don't think Batman needs your help.

Charles: Carlos helps!

Tim: Carlos is a scientist!

Charles: I could help you with cult leaders and mystical stuff.

Tim: How many cult leaders Gotham even has?

Red Hood: Hey, theologist guy, I just found a third evil cult and I might be needing some- Tim?

Tim: Hood?

Charles: Hi. Jason.

Tim: Wait you know Jason's identity as well?

Charles: Yeah. And Robin's.

Tim: And you don't know who Batman is?

Charles: No clue.

Tim: How???

Jason: Can we talk about it after we deal with the new cult leader? We have two of those minor ones with dangerous cults every day in this hellhole and Huntress and I are the only ones dealing with it.

Charles: Is Helena okay? She and Sage were having some relationship problems.

Tim: I give up.

--

Batman: This is an emergency! There is a weird person following me around. They think they are hidden but they are not, they send minions sometimes, others they are there, they aren't tall nor short and dress with things like furry pants and a bow tie, no shirt; a rocking dress with a poncho and other odd combinations and always always has recording equipament . I still don't know the identity of this individual. But it seems to be a new criminal force studying their target and we should be cautious.

Dick: Furry pants and a bow tie? Recording equipament... Oh you're talking about the radio host.

Bruce: Who?

Dick: Me and Babs always listen to his show.

Barbara: I think I recorded today's show just in case we were unable to watch it on time. I'm sending it to you, B.

*recordings*

Cecil: The man who calls himself Batman striked again. Everyday he walks in the night, beats up people and buys a slice of Big Rico's Pizza. No one does a slice like Big Rico's. No one. As of late he again took out a normal family operation on the nightvalean area because apparently the taming and possession of too many antics is "iligal" and "dangerous". Now at first I was a defender of this new guy, yes it is weird he calls himself Batman and isn't visibly part bat but isn't it worse to define he isn't and has no claim on his heritage just because it isn't obvious? And he has a bunch of armed kids! Has Tamika Flyn not showed us we should trust armed heavilly trained kids? But that was then. Now he is attacking our comunity! Arresting and beating up members of our comunity and friends of our comunity. Shame on this Batman and shame on his heavilly trained kids and a bit less shame on his super cute and sexy scientist guy cause he is new and obviously is being tricked because someone as perfect as Carlos would never.

Cecil: On other news Waylon Jones also known as Killer Croc wants to talk with you. He wants to just talk something as friends and to apologize to your neighboor for potentially eating his grandma but also wants to discuss some more important details of your plans, he is going to do it at... my house? *reading* "nanana uh-hu Cecil please keep this friendly get along private" oh listerners, I'm sorry, it appears I was reading my personal text mensages instead of my notes. I'm so sorry. Silly me. The one who is going to visit you is Victor Zsass, he already has a scar with your name and his knife is ready, you know what you did.

Cecil: Finally the neigboorhood concil wants to inform that there is a Scarecrow attack planned for this friday. They recomend you cancel all your apointments and lock yourselfs at home with the aproved gas masks. This is of course the Gotham tradicional protocol. They do add to the protocol however that if you want to be hitted by Scarecrow's fear toxin do not scream degrading things like "Scarecrow hottie hit me hard with your fumes" nor be disrespectfull of his power by being overly friendly, simply go to public spaces and screem "I'm not afraid of you" or idealy scream "please no have mercy". If you are imnune to the toxin decorum also recomends you should pretend to be scared, you don't wanna hurt his feelings, do you?