#your poor planning and management is no longer my problem!!

[littlekingbergara]

my boss was like "yeah she thought she was doing us a favor by telling us she's moving six weeks in advance but we haven't found anyone to replace her 🫤" WELL i told you six weeks ago but you didnt post anywhere that you were hiring until last fucking week so do not try to put that on me.

[ramhaiba]

𝖢𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀

Pairing- Yandere Bokuto x Reader MasterList

"But to Bokuto. It’s not just a crush, it’s love."

A/N- this is one of my drafts, so this is shorter than most of my work (might make a longer ver. of this fic in the future!)

Everyone knows Boktuo probably has a crush on you. The topic of Bokuto’s childish crush on you is spoken like taboo. There is a nonverbal agreement between the entire MSBY to refrain from acknowledging it because of its harmless yearning.

While Boktuo’s a great guy, the idea of getting into another workplace relationship sounds displeasing to you since your last one ended in a disaster, causing you to quit your job due to the uncomfortable work environment. 

That’s why you pray he doesn’t ask you to dinner or anything romantic related because the sight of a heartbroken Bokuto would haunt your dreams. But that is your future problem-At present, Bokuto seems to be ignorant of his feelings because if he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to show up to practice, a bouquet in his hands, confessing his attraction towards you. 

Thankfully in the present, Bokuto just thinks of you as a good friend- a good friend who he can’t get enough of, a good friend who he wants to spend all his time with. Sure- sometimes he gets a little moody when he catches you hanging around other people but that’s just a normal thing for good friends to feel right? Right?

He’s doing it again, he’s completely ignoring every responsibility he has so he can talk to you. The second you step into the gymnasium, he’s at your side so fast that you think he teleported. Bokuto would start blathering about the more random things, details about his day, his plans for the weekend, and family events. But he always complimented your appearance, regardless of whether you thought you looked like a mess. The conversation was getting too long.

You could see in the background that Atsumu was getting impatient, hands on his hips as his foot repeatedly tapped the ground.

A setter needs to train with their team. But Atsumu can’t exactly do that if his teammate is busy chatting up their manager. “Bokuto, that sounds really great but shouldn’t you get back to pratice?” you told Bokuto, trying to solve the issue. 

Boktuo tilted his head, a naive smile on his lips as he said “It’s fine, we can talk for five more minutes. Atsumu can wait.”

That was Atsumu's last straw, his eyebrows furrowing as his fingers curled into a fist at his side.

“Bokuto, could ya please stop flirting with your little girlfriend? Get yer ass back to the court, we have a game coming to prepare for” Atsumu huffed. You glance at Bokuto, noticing his dazed expression, it seems like gears in his brain are finally turning.

“Girl-friend?”Bokuto uttered in disbelief, his arms slumped forward. When his yellow eyes looked back at you, you noticed a slight blush crawling on his face, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

“Bokuto-”

“I gotta pratice now, Y/n. Talk to you later” Bokuto interrupted, dashing back to the court. You looked at Atsumu, giving him the most pissed-off look because judging by Boktuo's sudden change in emotion- from happy-go-lucky to a bashful blushing ace, 

It looks like he finally realized why your friendship was so different from others.

But to Bokuto. It’s not just a crush, it’s love.

It’s all that stupid setter’s fault that Bokuto is acting all weird in front of you. The second pratice ends, you’re pulling Atsumu by his ear, dragging him to the locker room so you can curse at him.

“You just had to use the word ‘girlfriend.’ You ruined this whole thing, Miya” you shouted, cornering the blonde hair setter against a locker.

“Sorry- Sorry, c’mon it was in the heat of the moment” Atsumu huffed, averting his eyes in embarrassment. 

“God- I’m going to have to break that poor boy’s heart because of you” you sighed. “What’cha mean by that?” Atsumu asked.

“Well, knowing Bokuto- he’s probably going to ask me on a date. But I’ve kinda..sworn off of workplace romances permanently” you answered, the anger in your tone slowly fading.

Atsumu took a moment to think before opening his mouth,

“We can’t have him acting all heartbroken right now- a match is coming up and I seriously cannot set to a depressed Bokuto….So just make sure he can’t ask ya out then” Atsumu suggested.

“What do you mean by that” you questioned, unsure of what he was trying to get at. “Avoid him till this little crush burns out. If that doesn’t work, it won’t hurt to get a boyfriend, y’know?” Atsumu added.

You punched Atsumu’s arm for his last suggestion causing him to hiss.

 “You’re an asshole but avoiding him for a little while isn’t such a bad idea” you hummed. “Does that mean I’m forgiven” Atsumu huffed, rubbing his sore forearm. “For now” you replied.

—

Avoiding Bokuto was a lot harder than you expected it to be. When he attempted to greet you at practice, you’d straightforwardly tell him “ I have to go schedule the hotel reservations for the out-of-state game,” or you’d mention another responsibility you must fill. 

Either way, he would let out a noticeable pout every time you walked away, mumbling a weak “okay then.”

Then he’s trying to get your attention after practice, a nervous but excited expression on his face as he stands in front of you but you don’t let him utter a single word before reminding him that you have to go home quickly to do some laundry.

‘Laundry? Was laundry really more important than him?’

Bokuto wondered. He doesn’t understand why the love of his life is acting so strange. Maybe you’re not feeling well? Or you’re stressed.

Either way, Bokuto is showing up at your door, holding a gift basket, a big grin on his lips. 

“Bokuto? What's all of this” you asked, awkwardly as you opened the door for him.

“ Figured you’ve been stressed recently that’s why you’ve been acting so distant, so I made ya a little self-care basket.” Bokuto beamed, proudly holding the basket of assorted goods. Everything in that basket is expensive, you can tell by the popular brands of each bottle of lotion, candles, and sweets.

“ Thank you, Bokuto. But you didn’t have to do this” you responded, calmly as you carefully took the basket from his hand, trying your best not to come in contact with his fingertips.

“I don’t mind doing these things if it’s for you. I’m pretty sure I’d do anything for you” Bokuto laughed bashfully.

“ Well.. goodnight.” You mumbled, trying to close the door, but his foot interrupted its closing.

“ Actually, I was kinda meaning to ask you something”

Fuck- here it is, the moment you’ve been dreading.

“Y/n, after hearing what ‘Tsumu said on the court the other day, it kinda got me wondering about somethings” Bokuto commented, a bashful grin across his lips.

“W-what kind of things” you stuttered, trying to put up a fake smile as mentally you were dreading the worst.

“I think I wouldn’t mind- I wouldn’t at all mind being able to call you my girlfriend” Bokuto confessed.

Fuck- what do you do? He’ll be too upset to play for his match next week if you reject him. You’d be lying to him if you accepted his feelings and hurt him more when you admit the truth.

“Bokuto- I don’t think we should get into this conversation, it might distract you from your game that’s coming up” you suggested.

Bokuto leans his face closer to yours, only a centimeter apart causing your heart to race. “You look so nervous, Y/n” he pointed out, his fingers brushing over the apples of your cheeks.

 “And your cheeks… they feel so hot” he mumbled. “I-it’s nothing important, I’m fine You responded, swatting his hand away from your face, adverting your eyes from his unmoving glare. 

“At first I didn’t completely understand why you’ve been pushing me away, Y/n. But now I understand. It’s because you feel the same and you’re nervous about dating another co-worker. But I’m not like that guy, Y/n. I’d never treat you like trash. I’d never let you go” Bokuto confessed. He’s getting excited- too excited because he’s come up with a false reality where you’d reciprocated his feelings. 

“Bokuto, I’m sorry but I don’t- I don’t feel the same and I don’t think I ever will” you replied being forced to ruin his dream. His entire demeanor changes at your words. It was like a switch flipped in his brain. Once standing in front of you with a big grin now morphed into an emotionless expression, eyes dulling burning holes into you, fist clenched at his side.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” Bokuto asked, trying to find out if he heard you correctly.

“I’m saying I don’t have romantic feelings for you, Bokuto. B-but I really cherish our friendship and I don’t mind still being friends after this” you responded. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t want to be friends” Bokuto commented, his hand curling over your doorframe, pushing himself into your apartment, every step he took forward caused you to walk backward.

“Bokuto, stop it- you’re scaring me,” you remarked, heart skipping as your back pressed against the wall. “I like you so much, Y/n. I really do and I think you could too. I just need to show you how good I can be to you-

For you”

[kuroshika]

[ sorbet, 01×07 - long analysis below the cut. ] || [ tags: @lesbian-hannibal @shatteredlesbian @7x16pm ] || [ tumblr has refused to post this twice now and im giving up after this attempt. ]

—————

this episode, we're introduced to franklyn. he seems like a one-off side character who introduces us to the next villain, but his character seems to be a little bit more than that. he's eager to be hannibal's friend, and the rejection he feels when hannibal pushes those professional boundaries is a reflection of hannibal's actions towards will.

franklyn finds hannibal interesting. he thinks they'd be great friends, and is actively trying to form a relationship. this is a direct mirror of how hannibal feels about will — he finds will interesting, and thinks they'd be great friends, so he's actively trying to push will's professional boundaries. this rejection that franklyn feels is the same that hannibal feels.

hannibal's pause and redirection here is interesting. though he may not be getting paid for will's visits, it definitely might be sad to think that will is only seeing him as mandated - it makes hannibal upset that will sees him only because he has to (as shown when poor hannibal sits in his office and pouts when will is late for his session near the end of the episode).

he has intimate knowledge of will, and wants to be his friend because of it - an opposite (but reflection) of franklyn's attempts to be his friend. looking at franklyn, speaking to him, is sort of like speaking to himself. franklyn seems to be a less fine-tuned version of hannibal.

"tobias is my best friend, but i am not tobias's best friend". this sounds pretty similar to our weak relationship with will — hannibal sees will as his friend, will doesn't see hannibal as his friend, and will did take a higher interest in the ripper (and by extension, hannibal). i think here is where hannibal begins to realize the parallel between franklyn and tobias's relationship, and his and will's, as observed by the question he asks. "have you put him on a pedestal?"

in recognizing the reflection of the relationship he's chasing with will, hannibal is using his own therapy for himself - things make more sense when you tell someone else about them, out loud. he can help himself under the guise of helping franklyn if all goes to plan - and it does. franklyn agrees that he does, but also that he (and tobias) hold hannibal on a higher pedestal.

"i am a source of stability and clarity, franklyn, not your friend". this is the first time in the show hannibal adamantly refuses that he's someone's friend. he does the chasing, not the running. having such a reflection approach him to further their already precarious relationship is nothing but a problem.

franklyn assures him that he'd be a great friend, before swiftly changing the subject. the michael jackson tangent seems kinda kooky, and i skipped over it on my first watch-through, but i think i can make some deeper connections now. "you know what i think makes me the most sad about him dying? i will never get to meet him". ever since hannibal was introduced to will (or, rather, the exterior of his mental curtains), he's known there was something lurking beneath the surface. he's taken it as his mission to draw whatever will hides behind those curtains out, to see underneath his mask — to show him his becoming (as referenced in 1×05 "coquilles", when the angel maker tells will "i couldn't bring it out of you," to which will agrees "not all the way" (which feels like a callback to 1×02 "amuse-bouche", when hannibal only manages to draw will out half-way and have him admit that he enjoyed killing hobbs), and the angel maker offers "i can give you your becoming".). hannibal knows that the longer he waits to approach will, the closer the shadow behind the curtains comes to being repressed completely — the closer it comes to dying, in hannibal's mind, dying before he can meet him.

franklyn obviously has a savior complex, yet another reflection of hannibal — as shown in his prolific identity as a surgeon, and his tableaus as the ripper. his words are very familiar to hannibal, who feels that if will allows him to be his friend, he could stop him from killing part of himself. hannibal can see the correlation and prompts him on gently — how is franklyn's efforts returned? how will his own be returned?

franklyn's fantasy ends with him being the one to touch greatness, very much how hannibal's ends with him getting close to will — whom he already knows is great. he gets to be the one who draws will out into the light, he gets to be the one who sees will for who he truly is. he gets to touch greatness.

skipping over bedelia and hannibal's visit (mostly because i have a longer analysis for that scene and im already rambling), we cut to hannibal and will.

here we have hannibal, yet again, asking if they're friends. usually, will is unhesitant in assuring him they aren't, but here, it's a little different. he's gotten too familiar with whatever relationship he and hannibal have, and that part of him behind the curtains strains for more. if he says they are, there's a sense of intimacy that will isn't prepared for (especially not with someone he can't feel). if he says they aren't, however, he feels like he'll lose that sense of codependency they have. hannibal won't need him, won't want his company any longer (though it's reassured in 1×08 "fromage" that he appreciates his company). he'll be a professional curiosity— the same thing he is to alana (as, again, instated in 1×08).

so, instead he says yes to both. in agreeing that their relationship is not professional (and establishing their friendship), will is avoiding that sense of intimacy that comes with being someone's friend while still profiting off of their codependent relationship.

will reasserts control of the conversation by assuring that they're just having conversations. hannibal has been established as will's friend, and asserts himself as will's friend here — by repeating that he is a friend, and reminding will that the two share an intimate bond that has begun to blur the line between friendship and family.

whether will likes it or not, he's established that he's hannibal's friend. he's already intertwined with hannibal in a way that no one else is — he can feel the ripper strain under hannibal's person suit (or, as bedelia more aptly calls it this episode, his veil). he can sense what hannibal is, and part of him wants to get closer and wrap itself around whatever lays beyond the veil. i think this scene also offers the tipping point for hannibal's qualms about murdering franklyn — they are nothing alike anymore. will is his friend. the chase is over. he cannot help himself by helping franklyn - his death will be no loss.

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Cheeto, do you think Wild is chaotic enough to try getting a bokoblin into people clothes? If so, what do you think he would try putting them in?

Hi, taddy <3. this was not a writing prompt. My brain took it as one. By Hylia this WILL be a oneshot. I... ya'll can check it out on Ao3 if you want here. No warnings for this fic other than my own stupidity.

“Wild.”

“Twilight.”

“Wild.” Twilight pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you manage this? Why would you even...” He let out a frustrated sound, unable to put the situation in front of them into words. He said at last, defeated, “Why?”

“Be-cause, Twi-light,” Wild sang back happily. A huge grin split his face. “It wasn't hard. Bokoblins aren't that vicious, you just gotta be fast. And look, now it's harmless as a puppy.”

The unlucky bokoblin that had become Wild's latest victim stood, stiff and startled, in the center of the abandoned monster camp. Like a shivering dog wearing oversized shoes, it very, very carefully raised a knobby leg to inspect the colorful fabric that poofed out around its waist. When the stiff fabric flared up with the movement, fluttering at the edges, the bokoblin yelped and skittered away. The fabric, of course, followed, and the monster screamed out a horrible, frightened shriek that rang in Twilight's ears. Wild cackled. Behind them, the heroes chuckled and murmured at the sight. They’d planned to take out the straggler as they passed through the monster camp before they settled a little way away for the night. Wild, however, had motioned for them to stay back with his signature “I am up to trouble” expression plastered across his face, and he'd even managed to argue Time down with the assurance that this idea was “super tame, just a little fun, I promise no one gets hurt, and I'll deal with the bokoblin myself.” Twilight just wanted to know why his “tame” ideas somehow included a pink tutu shoved over an unsuspecting monster's head. He didn't even know where Wild could have gotten the article of clothing. “Wild...” Twilight began. “Wild, I don't think that no—”

At that moment, the bokoblin tripped over itself and sprawled into the grass. It paid the heroes and their renewed roaring laughter no mind as it crawled away frantically, beating at the puffed tutu around its waist with its fists. With every hit, the fabric sprung back up into its former shape, frightening the monster further. Finally, the bokoblin went limp on the ground, resigned to its fate. Twilight felt something in his heart twist at the sight of its big, wet pleading eyes turned his way. Even if those eyes belonged to a monster. “Wild,” Twilight said more firmly, over the rest of the heroes' laughter. “This’s cruel. Either kill the poor thing, or let it go. You know better than to torment your enemies. You're a hero—behave like one.”

Some of the heroes stifled their laughter or hid it behind their hands, but Wild didn't even try to act ashamed. He delightedly cackled in Twilight's face and flung his hands out in challenge. “You're welcome to try to take it off yourself, Mr. Hero.”

Twilight stared Wild down, willing him with all of his being to back off before they got into a fight in front of the whole Chain. Wild's smirk didn't waver, nor would it, not now that Wind was whispering excitedly to Warrior, and Legend was murmuring in displeasure to Four and Sky, and money was exchanging hands in the group. Even Twilight's glance to Time for aid was met with an amused shrug and a tip of the head that meant your kid, your problem. From the ground, the bokoblin let out a warbling, miserable little plea.

Twilight, gritting his teeth, was the first to blink. “We are going to talk about this later,” he promised Wild. That finally got a reaction out of Wild—his face paled, and his smile dropped just a little—but Twilight ignored it as he turned to the bokoblin on the ground. It was kicking lamely in an attempt to dislodge the tutu, which was muddy and torn now, no longer a bright fluffy pink, from its legs. At Twilight's approach, however, it turned its attention to him, baring its fanged teeth.

“Alla’ya’ll stand back,” Twilight ordered. He rolled up his sleeves. “Wild, we will be having that talk ‘bout your behavior later. I am very disappointed in you.”

The heroes shouted and the bokoblin squalled as Twilight pounced upon it. When he came away a few minutes later with the tutu clutched in his fist—torn directly in half, since the bokoblin wouldn't cooperate with his efforts to pull the offending piece of clothing over its head—the heroes all hooted and hollered triumphantly. The bokoblin, back in its customary loincloth, scrambled away without a backwards glance into the undergrowth.

Twilight was in no mood to celebrate. Wild, at least, now had the decency to wince at the sight of the sluggishly bleeding scratches on Twilight's arms, even as the rest of the heroes cheered. Twilight flung the ruined tutu into Wild's face, then grumpily stomped off towards the nearest river to clean up. 

[alexanderwales]

The first (and likely only) expansion for Factorio, Space Age, comes out tomorrow, and I'm essentially just counting down the hours until I can play it.

For a while I was planning to stream it, because I like the idea of sharing in the joy of playing a game that I like, but I do think it's a really poor game for streaming.

The thing that's interesting about Factorio is the process of problem solving, and what's interesting about that (and what I think a lot of people get wrong) is the decision-making rather than the end design. But a lot of the decision making comes from trying things and seeing how they fail, or looking at spreadsheets, or just sitting there staring at the screen while your brain churns. And so the best form factor for Factorio gameplay content, at least in my opinion, is a tightly edited video that takes all the design stuff and compacts it down into a streamlined narrative.

So I thought to myself "ah, then if I want to share in the process of play, I should make edited videos". This seems more time-consuming than difficult, and I at least have faith in my ability to write a script, if not to do interesting transitions, graphics, or effects.

But this would be a real labor of love, and there's always something that gets in the way of production if you have to interlace production with content creation. I have personally never created content myself (aside from fiction, which is very very different), but I often think "okay, how did they get that shot though" and the answer is always "filming yourself doing a thing makes it take much longer as you think about how you want to film it and move the camera around and get audio and make sure the lighting doesn't suck".

And you would think that for a 2D videogame like Factorio you could simply hit the record button on OBS and then play normally, editing it down later. But if you want to make something of quality, then no, that's not enough, you want to have video footage that will match later narrative beats, you want to record without music and only sound effects so you can add in music later, since the cuts you'd add in would ruin the music otherwise. You want specific "moments" like a good view of the first rocket launch, and the way it looks when you turn a whole section of brand new factory on, and you want clean B-roll for if you need it, explaining a problem you're fixing. Essentially, you need to keep in mind that this is going to some day be content.

There are, of course, plenty of people who do not make good content. They film what they're doing and talk while they're doing it, and I guess there's a market for it, because they call it a "longplay", and ... I have no respect for it, frankly.

So I talked myself out of streaming, and talked myself out of making edited content, and that means that I'm just going to be playing the game like I would play any other game.

But there's a part of me that thinks ... man, I have stuff to say. I want to share with people, and make the experience a communal one, and hopefully manage to hit on something that makes someone say "I had never thought of it like that, but you're totally right".

I'm going to try not to clog up this blog with Factorio stuff over the next week or two as I make my way through the game. I'll probably write a review of the expansion, which will hopefully live up to my expectations, or not live up to them in interesting ways. But there's a part of me that wishes I could justify making high-effort gameplay videos for a rather niche game, or a love of the work of editing videos that would make it into not actually work.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

okay so normally when i make informative posts about current news, i try to always link a source for it (i tend to rely on the guardian) or at least explain the source of it.

but i dont know if the government are planning to publicise this or quietly implement it so im hesitant to give details on where i got this info. im just gonna say it was from someone/s who works in the department of work and pensions, and hope that my prior post history speaks well enough of me for you to trust that this isnt misinformation.

i dont like doing this but i think this information is too important for me not to share it and said info is fucking disgusting.

starting in march, in the uk, if you ask at the job centre for a voucher for a local foodbank, you are going to be turned away.

under the current system, if you go to a job centre that has a food bank referral service, the staff will fill in a slip (theyre advised not to call it a voucher but tomayto tomarto you know?) and refer you to a local charity which will allocate you food according to the slip.

that ends on march 1st. after that, they will just hopefully signpost you to other services that can help you get an emergency food parcel. that will likely involve you having to travel somewhere, potentially on a public transport, costing you more money that you dont have. and that does not guarantee that you will get the food you need either that day or at all.

our government does not care about its citizens, but especially not about us who are poor. they see the working class, the impoverished and the homeless as subhumans. they see us as what new right sociologist and white nationalist libertarian charles murray coined the underclass.

and you know this because of how the current system will be working from now until the end of february because if youre gonna stab someone while theyre bleeding to death, you might as well double tap it, ay?

from now until february 29th, you now must have an interview so that they can be "sure" that you need that food.

bear in mind that this does not cost the government anything. they are not losing money because of this service, if you want to call it that.

and that interview? that could take up to 3 days; its whenever they have a timeslot within 3 days of your asking. you could go in and say "i have no money and i have no food, i havent eaten for days, please help," and they could tell you to come back in three days, and then not even give you that slip of paper anyway.

this could kill someone. yes, it takes longer than three days to starve to death, but if someone is struggling that much to need help acquiring food, theyre gonna have more problems going on. people might choose food over heating and freeze to death; they might decide to eat food thats gone off and end up dying from it because they couldnt call 999 because they didnt have electricity; they might decide to try and injure themselves so bad that they have an extended stay in hospital as a way to get food and die in the process; they might not have eaten in weeks and starve to death.

but hey, if you do pass the interview process, youll get the referral you needed up to three days ago and a discussion about how better to manage your finances, because hey, youve already stabbed the stabbed person two more times, why not twist the fucking knife?

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 11,739

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, mention of cannibalism, manipulation, mention of violence,

Summary: Jonathan's been having more trouble with Batman than ever and Y/n wants to help out in a way.

A/N: Holy shit, did this take a very long time to write a part 5 for! My poor baby has been sidelined because of so many request coming through (I swear, everytime I post a fic or something, I get another 2 requests, I have 7 right now that I haven't started on 💀) and also Uni been keeping me from my baby :c (I have had so many assignments, I wanna die)

Sorry, this took so long to come out, but I hope you like this part 💚

-

Y/n's life seemed to be getting better with each day that passed. University days flowed smoothly, she found herself engaging with new friends, and evenings spent in the comfort of home with Jonathan felt like a haven from the world's chaos. She had made progress in managing her dependency on Jonathan. While she still felt a twinge of concern upon waking up without him, it no longer spiraled into full-blown panic.

But for Jonathan, life was a rough sea, each wave threatening to capsize him. Despite his alliance with the Riddler, his adventures as Scarecrow had become a problem. The ongoing vendetta with Two-Face and the Penguin haunted his every move. He protected Y/n from the grim details, keeping the nature of the conflict veiled in secrecy. And the relentless pursuit of Batman added further weight to his burden, his shadow looming over Jonathan's every scheme. Each thwarted plan, each narrow escape, chipped away at his will, leaving him weary and disheartened.

Jonathan's weariness seemed to seep into the very air as he sank onto the couch beside Y/n, the weight of his troubles evident in every crease of his blazer. 

Y/n's heart ached at the sight of him, her concern tender and palpable. "Rough night?" she murmured, her voice a soft in the dimly lit room.

"Isn't it always..." Jonathan's response carried the weight of struggles.

Sensing his need for solace, Y/n drew closer, her touch a soothing caress against his troubled brow. "Who was it this time?" she inquired, her voice laced with sympathy.

"Penguin and Two-Face," Jonathan's tone was tight, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"And was Eddie there?" Y/n probed gently.

"Yeah," Jonathan confirmed, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

Y/n sighed, concern etched across her features. "Did he manage to escape safely?"

"Yeah, though he left me high and dry halfway through," Jonathan's words dripped with bitterness.

Y/n furrowed her brows in thought. "Hmm... as much as I appreciate Eddie's…intelect, maybe it's time you consider aligning with someone more intimidating than the Riddler," she suggested.

"That's easier said than done," Jonathan replied, his tone heavy with the weight of his predicament.

"You literally work at Arkham, I’m sure you can find someone," Y/n scoffed, playfully.

Jonathan ignored her suggestion, his attention moving to the clock on the wall. "You should be heading to bed. You've got uni in the morning," he remarked.

Y/n chuckled, amused by his bullshit distraction. "So do you!"

"Yeah, well, I'm your professor. I don’t want you to doze off during one of my own lectures," Jonathan retorted.

Y/n rose from the couch, a plea in her voice. "At least come to bed with me... please," she pouted.

Jonathan didn’t move, his gaze lingering on her. Y/n sighed, frustration evident, and grabbed his arm. "Let's go!" she tugged, pulling him off the couch.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute. I'll be up in ten," Jonathan said, rising from his seat and making his way to his work desk.

"You better!" Y/n called after him, running the stairs to their bedroom.

As Y/n settled into bed, she couldn't shake off the worry that lingered from Jonathan's troubled demeanor. She knew his burdens weighed heavily on him, but she also understood the importance of his work and the dangers it entailed. One slip up and he’d be sent off to Arkham, and not as a doctor.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as she waited for Jonathan to join her. Eventually, the metallic creak of the stairs echoed through the warehouse, signaling Jonathan's arrival, his expression still etched with weariness.

"Finally," Y/n teased, patting the empty space beside her on the bed. “You said 10 minutes, that was like 3 hours!”

“It was only half and hour,” Jonathan chuckled as he slipped under the covers, his tired frame sinking into the mattress.

“Still!” Y/n wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

Y/n brushed her fingers through his hair soothingly. "There's nothing to apologize for. Just get some rest now," she reassured him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

With Y/n's warmth enveloping him, Jonathan finally allowed himself to succumb to the embrace of sleep, grateful for the solace she provided in his hectic world.

-

The lecture had finished and two of them found themselves in Jonathan’s office. As Y/n lounged on Jonathan's couch, she let her mind wander, thinking about potential alliances, hoping to help the relentless pressure weighing on Jonathan.

"How about... Catwoman? You know her?" Y/n proposed, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Jonathan, engrossed in his work, spared a moment to entertain her suggestion. "Catwoman? Just a cat burglar. No use. Besides, everyone knows Batman and her have a thing."

Y/n's brows furrowed in thought as she considered his response. "Hmm, true," she murmured, mentally crossing out Catwoman from her list.

Her eyes lit up with a new idea. "How about Mad Hatter?" she asked, her tone tinged with excitement.

Jonathan paused, briefly considering the possibility. "Jervis... You think Jervis will intimidate people?" he scoffed, a note of judgement coloring his voice.

"Well... maybe not, but can't he like... mind control and stuff?" Y/n persisted, her enthusiasm undeterred.

Jonathan nodded, acknowledging the potential usefulness of Mad Hatter's abilities. "Yeah, he can, but the likelihood of him teaming up with me is not high."

Undeterred by his negativity, Y/n continued to brainstorm. "Hmm, Bane's pretty scary. Wait, wait, wait! Killer Croc!" she exclaimed, a spark of excitement igniting in her eyes.

Jonathan's expression morphed into one of disbelief as he regarded her. "...Did you… did you use your brain before saying that?" he teased, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n's smile never faltered. "Think about it! He's huge! Scary! And probably indestructible."

"Yeah, you forget the part where he's not too fond of people, especially not us doctors," Jonathan pointed out, his tone laced with amusement at her enthusiasm.

"Well, maybe you just need to try being more likable," Y/n suggested with a casual shrug.

Jonathan stood up from his desk, his strides purposeful as he approached Y/n. "You don’t think I’m likable?" he asked, gently lifting her chin with his finger.

Y/n's eyes met his, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You're plenty likable to me, but everyone else thinks you're scary," she replied. "And it's not my opinion that matters, it's Croc's."

Jonathan took a seat beside her, Y/n instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. "And if you can’t get anyone to like you, well then you’re just stuck with Eddie," she concluded, a playful tone coloring her words.

Jonathan sighed, his expression tired. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Y/n flashed him a smile and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good boy,” she teased gently as she rose from the couch. “Well! You have fun. I have lectures and tutorials to attend.”

“I have somewhere to be this afternoon, so I’ll get Edward to pick you up,” Jonathan informed her.

“Okay, see you tonight then,” Y/n said, exiting his office with a wave.

-

As Y/n stepped out of the university building, the evening breeze carried with it a sense of relief, a welcome rest from the academic hustle and bustle. Her tired eyes scanned the dimly lit street, and she fumbled for her phone as it buzzed with an unknown caller. With a sigh, she answered, expecting Edward's familiar voice.

“Hiya, Eddie,” Y/n said.

“Good evening,” Edward's usual ominous tone greeted her, but the news he had was less than convenient. “I’m afraid it's a rain check tonight. Tell your lover boy I can’t come pick you up, I’m rather… preoccupied,” he explained, his voice tinged with apology.

Y/n couldn't suppress a soft chuckle at his choice of words. “No problem, but Jonathan won't be too pleased. You're becoming quite unreliable in his eyes,” she remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Edward sighed lightly. “Well, perhaps if he stuck to our original plan, I wouldn’t need to leave him hanging. My apologies, nonetheless,” he replied, his tone sincere.

“It’s alright. Goodbye,” Y/n bid farewell, ending the call with a click.

With a quick swipe, she dialed Jonathan's number, anticipating his immediate concern. “Y/n? Is everything alright?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

“I’m good, just a change of plans. Edward can’t make it,” Y/n reassured him, sensing his unease.

There was a muttered curse from Jonathan's end, a testament to his frustration. “I’ll try to make it as quickly as possible then,” he promised, his determination evident.

“I can manage. I’ll catch the bus and walk the rest of the way,” Y/n suggested, knowing she could handle the short journey.

“No, I don’t want you to do that,” Jonathan insisted, his protective instincts kicking in.

Y/n adjusted her bag on her shoulder, already making her way to the bus stop. "Well, I'll be waiting outside either way. Campus is closing up, so I can't stick around indoors," she informed Jonathan.

Jonathan let out a resigned sigh, his concern evident even through the phone. "Okay, just... keep me updated. Text me when you're on the bus, when you're off, and give me a call once you're home," he instructed, his tone protective.

Y/n couldn't help but inject a hint of humor into the situation. "Geez, even my parents weren't this paranoid," she teased lightly.

Jonathan's response was serious, his words weighed down by the reality of Gotham's dangers. "In this city, caution is necessary. Do you understand?" he reiterated, his concern radiating off the phone.

“Yes, yes, I understand. Bye bye,” Y/n reassured him before ending the call, feeling a sense of gratitude for his concern about her safety.

Tucking her phone into her pocket, Y/n stood at the bus stop, her gaze fixed on the approaching headlights. With a soft exhale, she boarded the bus without trouble, finding a seat towards the back.

Settling into her seat, she grabbed her phone and quickly typed a message to Jonathan, informing him that she got on the bus safely. The rhythmic hum of the bus's engine filled the air as she waited for a response, the unfamiliarity of the nighttime bus journey casting a subtle sense of unease over her. Yet, amidst the apprehension, there was a curious sense of peace in the solitude of the bus's dimly lit interior.

As the bus trundled along the familiar route, Y/n's mind wandered, thoughts drifting between the events of the day and the comforting presence of Jonathan awaiting her return. The soft glow of streetlights flickered through the windows, casting shifting patterns across the otherwise dim interior.

Soon, the bus came to a halt at Y/n's designated stop. Gathering her belongings, she rose from her seat and made her way towards the exit, offering a polite ‘thank you’ to the driver as she stepped off onto the sidewalk.

With a quick glance around, Y/n flicked Jonathan another text and beginning the short walk home. The city streets were quiet at this hour, a stark contrast to the bustling chaos of daytime.

As she walked, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, a subtle prickle of awareness tingling at the back of her neck. Hastening her pace, she focused on the familiar landmarks that guided her path, eager to reach the safety of the warehouse.

As Y/n hurried along the deserted sidewalk, she sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle tension that set her nerves on edge. Suddenly, a group of shadowy figures emerged from the darkness, blocking her path.

"Hey, sweetheart, fancy meeting you out here all alone," one of them leered.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she instinctively took a step back, her gaze darting between the menacing strangers. "Please, I don't want any trouble," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

But the men closed in, their intentions unmistakably hostile. "Sorry, doll, but we got orders," another one sneered, stepping forward menacingly. "Two-Face sends his regards."

Y/n's blood ran cold as she realized the gravity of the situation. These men weren't just petty criminals, they were carrying out the bidding of one of Gotham's villains because of some vendetta.

Panic surged through her veins as she searched for an escape route, but the alley behind her was blocked, and the men advanced with predatory intent. Desperation spurred her into action as she braced herself for whatever came next, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the tension reached its peak and the menacing men closed in on Y/n, a sudden rush of wind swept through the alley. Before anyone could react, a shadowy figure dropped from the rooftops, landing gracefully in front of the would-be assailants.

The men faltered, their arrogance crumbling in the face of the unexpected arrival. "What the-?" one of them stammered.

The figure stepped forward, emerging from the shadows cast by the flickering streetlights. As his silhouette materialized in the dimly lit alley, a hush fell over the group of men. The air seemed to thicken with tension, charged with the weight of his presence alone. Batman.

Batman's steely gaze swept over the would-be assailants, each piercing stare carrying an unspoken warning that resonated with the force of a thunderclap in the stillness of the night.

Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of Gotham's legendary protector, the men faltered, their confidence crumbling. Uncertainty flickered in their eyes, betraying their inner turmoil as they exchanged nervous glances, silently acknowledging the futility of their actions.

In the deafening silence that followed, no words were needed. The unspoken command of Batman's presence was enough to quell the impending threat, dispersing it like smoke in the wind. With hesitant steps, the men retreated into the darkness, their once-bold demeanor now replaced by a sense of defeat.

Y/n watched as Batman turned to her, his piercing gaze never softening. She sensed an air of interrogation surrounding their encounter, as if every word she’d speak would be questioned. Given her complicated situation with Jonathan, she couldn't shake the feeling she was in fact guilty.

"Thank you," Y/n offered hastily, her gaze dropping to the ground, unable to meet his eyes

As Y/n attempted to move past, the man blocked her path, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. Anxiety surged through her veins as she wondered how Jonathan would react to this situation.

"What are you doing in these parts?" His voice was gruff, heavy with suspicion.

"I live around here," Y/n replied, trying to maintain her composure despite the rising tension.

His scrutinizing gaze bore into her, making her feel exposed under the dim streetlights. "Not many houses around this area," he remarked, his tone sending a shiver down her spine.

"No, there isn't," Y/n agreed, her voice faltering slightly. "Goodbye now." She lowered her head, hoping to evade further confrontation as she essentially pushed past him.

As Y/n walked briskly through the dimly lit streets, her senses were on high alert. Every sound seemed amplified, every shadow appeared menacing. The encounter with Two-Face's henchmen had left her on edge, and the sudden appearance of Batman only heightened her unease.

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her as he spoke, his voice resonating with authority. The darkness seemed to bend around him, adding an air of mystery to his presence.

“Allow me to walk you home,” Batman offered, his tone firm yet reassuring.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as she debated how to respond. On one hand, having Batman by her side would undoubtedly deter any further threats. On the other hand, she couldn't let him know where she lived, considering it was a warehouse and Jonathan’s hideout.

“No! It's fine, thank you,” she replied hastily, her voice betraying her nerves.

Glancing over her shoulder, Y/n's heart skipped a beat when she found no trace of Batman. It was as if he had vanished into thin air, leaving behind only the memory of his presence. Surprised by his sudden disappearance, she couldn't shake the sense of awe that accompanied the realization of his silent departure. What they said about him was true.

As Batman vanished into the night, Y/n felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through her. Relief washed over her as she watched him fade into the darkness, yet a lingering sense of unease gnawed at her. With a quickening of her pace, she hurried along the deserted streets, each step fueled by a growing urgency to reach the safety of her home to call Jonathan.

Shaking her head, Y/n turned her focus back to the path ahead, determined to put the encounter behind her. With every stride, she made her way closer to the sanctuary of the warehouse, her thoughts consumed by the figure of the Dark Knight and the mysteries that surrounded him.

Upon reaching the safety of the warehouse, she wasted no time in dialing Jonathan's number. His voice was laced with concern as soon as he answered.

“Did you make it home safe?” he asked urgently, his worry radiating even through the phone.

Y/n hesitated, unsure of how to break the news. “Well, uh… about that…”

“I’m coming home now,” Y/n could hear Jonathan moving around quickly through the phone.

“No, it's fine. Just finish… whatever you're doing, I'm fine now,” Y/n reassured him, her voice faltering slightly.

“Tell me what happened,” Jonathan demanded, his tone firm yet worried.

Y/n took a deep breath before recounting the encounter with Two-Face's goons and the unexpected appearance of Batman. "So, I got off the bus, right? And then these guys came out of nowhere, talking about a 'message from Two-Face.' It was pretty scary, but they didn't lay a finger on me," she explained. “It was pretty fun actually,” Y/n chuckled.

As Y/n tried to inject a hint of humor to lighten the mood, Jonathan's worry remained steadfast, his voice edged with tension.

“Y/n, this is serious,” Jonathan's voice was stern.

Feeling the weight of the situation settle upon her, Y/n couldn't help but sigh. “Well… the Batman showed up…”

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line as Jonathan processed her words. “Y/n, am I safe to come home?” his question hung in the air, filled with uncertainty.

“Yes, I… I thanked him and told him to leave me alone,” Y/n replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“But he knows you now. He's going to be suspicious,” Jonathan's mind was already racing with potential consequences.

“Yeah, I know,” Y/n sighed, her thoughts consumed by the implications of their encounter with Gotham's infamous vigilante.

"I'm just finishing up here. I should be back in half an hour. Don't open the door for anyone, don't leave the warehouse, and if something's wrong, call me," Jonathan's voice crackled through the phone.

"I already know this, Jonathan," Y/n replied, her tone laced with a hint of frustration.

"I know," Jonathan acknowledged before hanging up.

Y/n let her hand holding the phone drop to her side, her fingers trembling slightly. She made her way to her bed, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on her. Crawling under the covers, Y/n sought solace in the cocoon of blankets, hoping it would offer some comfort while she waited on Jonathan.

-

Y/n was jolted awake by the echo of the warehouse door slamming shut, she hadn’t even noticed she had fallen asleep. Disoriented and groggy, she blinked several times before realizing where she was. 

"Y/n!" Jonathan's voice pierced through the silence, carrying a tone of urgency.

Pushing herself up from the bed, Y/n's heart raced as she hurried down the stairs, her steps echoing in the space of the warehouse. Before she could even reach the ground floor, Jonathan was there, his presence reassuring and comforting. His hands were warm as they cradled her face, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow.

"Are you okay?" Jonathan's voice was urgent, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress.

Y/n managed a weak smile, her own concern momentarily forgotten in the face of Jonathan's worry. "Doing a lot better than you, apparently," she said, chuckling a little even in the tense moment.

But Jonathan's expression remained serious, his brow furrowing even deeper. "I should have known this was going to happen. I should have made sure you were prepared. This is my fault," he murmured, his tone heavy with self-blame.

"Slow down, Jonathan. It's fine, I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, her voice calm and steady despite the lingering remnants of sleep clouding her mind.

Sensing the need for a moment of respite, Jonathan guided Y/n to the nearby couch, his movements gentle yet purposeful. With a sigh, Y/n sank into the cushions, the events of the evening still swirling in her mind as she waited for Jonathan to speak.

"I'm going to make sure this never happens again, okay?" Jonathan's voice was confident. Y/n could only manage a nod in response, her mind still reeling from the recent events.

As Jonathan moved around the room, his purposeful strides echoed in the quiet space. He retrieved something from his workbench and approached Y/n, a small canister in his hand. 

"This is a small canister of my fear gas. You keep this with you always. If you encounter any problems, you spray it in their face. Do not breathe it in," he instructed, pressing the canister into her hand.

"But what about Batman? He'll find out," Y/n asked, putting the canister on the coffee table. He’d know her connection with Scarecrow if she sprayed him with fear gas.

"I'm still figuring that out," Jonathan admitted, a hint of frustration lacing his words as he ran a hand through his hair.

Y/n watched Jonathan's movements with a mix of concern and guilt. Each stride seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, his brows furrowed in deep concentration, the flickering light cast by the single bulb overhead danced across his features, accentuating the lines of worry etched into his face.

As he paced back and forth, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her insides. She replayed the events of the evening in her mind, each moment a stark reminder of her vulnerability. A knot formed in her stomach, a silent acknowledgment of the burden she unwittingly placed upon him.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n's gaze drifted downward, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. Picking at the skin around her nails, she couldn't bear to meet Jonathan's eyes, fearing the weight of his disappointment or worse, his blame. Instead, she sought solace in the safety of herself, hoping to find some semblance of clarity amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within her, although nothing could comfort her like Jonathan could.

Suddenly, Jonathan's movements ceased, his attention drawn to Y/n's shift in demeanor. He knelt before her, his hands cradling her face with a tenderness that contrasted his earlier agitation.

"This is not your fault, you know that. None of this is your fault," Jonathan's voice was gentle yet firm, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with hers.

"You are my girl, and it was my duty to protect you. I wasn't there, and for that, I'm sorry," Jonathan confessed, his words laced with sincerity.

Y/n managed a small smile, her heart swelling with warmth at his words. "I'm your girl," she repeated softly.

"That's right, and I'm going to make sure you are never in that situation ever again," Jonathan vowed, sealing his promise with a tender kiss upon her forehead.

Y/n's arms wrapped around Jonathan's neck, her touch a gentle plea for comfort and closeness. "Take me to bed," she murmured, her voice a soft melody in the dimly lit room.

Jonathan's lips curved into a tender smile at her request. "Of course, my dear," he replied, his tone carrying the warmth of affection.

With effortless grace, Jonathan scooped her up from the couch, cradling her in his arms like a doll. He moved with smoothly through the warehouse, navigating the familiar path to their shared bed. Gently lowering her onto the soft mattress, he lingered for a moment, savoring the intimacy of the moment before retreating to change into more comfortable attire.

Meanwhile, Y/n eagerly awaited his return, her heart warm. As Jonathan finished changing into more relaxed clothing, Y/n's eyes sparkled with warmth and adoration.

Climbing into bed beside her, Jonathan enveloped her in his embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against her own. Y/n nestled closer, seeking solace in his arms, her worries momentarily forgotten in the safety of their shared space.

"Can we just stay here tomorrow? I don’t want to go to uni," Y/n murmured softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Jonathan's chuckle rumbled through the room. "While you could easily skip out on lectures, I’m the one teaching them, so it won’t be that simple," he teased gently.

Y/n's pout softened into a playful grin as she persisted, her eyes pleading with him to indulge her whims. "My other lecturers and Professors cancel lectures all the time. You can do it too," she urged, her voice filled with mischief.

Jonathan's sighed, a testament to the power she held over him. "For you, I will. But just this once," he relented, his gaze softening with unspoken affection as he met her pleading eyes. Y/n cherished every moment they shared like this.

Y/n's heart swelled with gratitude, a radiant smile lighting up her features as she pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. She knew how Jonathan had a soft spot for her and she intended to use it to her advantage.

"Can you tell me what you were doing today?" Y/n asked, look up at Jonathan.

Jonathan hesitated briefly, his expression guarded as he weighed his response. "Just sorting out a mess Batman put me in. Nothing important," he finally replied, his words vague.

Y/n decided not to pry and leaned in closer, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Can I come with you to Arkham next time?" she asked eagerly.

"Why?" Jonathan asked, looking down at her.

"I want to look for potential allies for you," Y/n replied sweetly.

Jonathan's brow furrowed with concern. "It’s a dangerous place, Y/n, you know that. And after tonight, I don’t want you to put yourself at that risk," he cautioned.

"But I have you," Y/n countered softly, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes.

Jonathan's eyes softened as he looked down at Y/n. "Fine, but you don't leave my side," he said.

Y/n met his gaze with a nod. "Understood," she replied.

Jonathan leaned back against the pillows, pulling Y/n closer to him. “Now, go to sleep.” His arm wrapped protectively around her.

Y/n nestled into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. A small smile played on her lips as she closed her eyes.

-

Y/n practically bounced with excitement as they made their way to Arkham. Jonathan, though usually reserved, couldn't help but stress about her safety, especially after last night. The morning air was crisp as they drove in the car, Y/n chattering away about what ever came to her mind.

Jonathan had envisioned a lazy day at home with Y/n, perhaps catching up on some reading or simply enjoying each other's company, but Y/n's eagerness to visit Arkham Asylum to find possible allies for Jonathan sparked a new energy in her, one that Jonathan couldn't resist. Despite his initial reluctance, he found himself giving in.

As they pulled up to the imposing structure, Jonathan turned to her, his expression serious as he outlined the rules for their visit.

"You don't speak to anyone unless I allow it," he began, his voice carrying a weight of authority. "If we interact with a patient, you stay behind me. You don't leave my office unless I say you can, and only with me accompanying you. Understand?"

Y/n nodded eagerly, she had already forgotten the first rule. "Got it," she replied.

As they stepped through the doors of Arkham, Y/n couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine. The air seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere thick with an eerie quietness was sometimes broken with screams of patients through the walls of the facility. 

Following the security protocols, they passed by stern-faced guards who eyed, their presence a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked within the walls of Arkham. Y/n felt a sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it aside. It’s not like it was her first time at Arkham, but today, it just felt different. 

As they walked down the corridors, the air was heavy with the scent of antiseptic, mingling with the faint hint of decay that seemed to linger in the air. They passed by other doctors and staff members, each lost in their own world as they hurried about their duties. Y/n offered polite nods and smiles as they passed. Finally, they arrived at their destination, the door looming before them like a gateway to another world.

Entering Jonathan's office, Y/n took in the familiar sight with a playful smirk. Not a single thing had changed from when she was last there. "Wow, you sure changed things up in here, didn’t ya?" she teased, glancing around at the familiar decor.

Jonathan closed the door behind them with a soft click. "Well, you know me," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/n's eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned to face him. "So... can I take a look at some patient files?" she asked, sweetly.

"I have a few patient files in that cabinet," he said, pointing toward a nearby filing cabinet. "But those are just the ones I have access to, the rest you’d have to look up on the computer. God, why am I encouraging this," Jonathan sighed, shaking his head slightly.

Y/n grinned, moving toward the cabinet. "Because deep down, you know you could use another ally. Edward has been doing… admirably, but the two of you could use some extra assistance," she remarked, pulling open the cabinet door.

Rummaging through the files in the cabinet, Y/n couldn't find anything particularly intriguing at first. Nonetheless, she knew she had to comb through them thoroughly. Pulling out a stack of files, she placed them on the floor and settled in front of them.

As she sifted through the scattered documents, Y/n let out an exasperated sigh. "This is going to be..." Her words trailed off abruptly as her eyes landed on a familiar name. "Hey! It's Eddie's file!" she exclaimed, snatching up the folder labeled ‘Edward Nygma’.

Y/n eagerly flipped through the pages, scanning Jonathan's notes on Edward's behavior with keen interest. As Y/n delved into Edward's file, she couldn’t help the cheeky smile that sat on her face.

"Let's see what we've got there," Y/n said.

Y/n scanned through the pages until she reached Jonathan's comments. "Hmm, it says here that Edward's behavior has been erratic, with notable mood swings and a tendency towards belittling people," she summarized, glancing up at Jonathan.

Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. "And my point still stands, Edward can be quite the pain at times. He's a brilliant mind, but his ego can be a challenge to manage. He's proven himself to be a valuable ally, albeit a complicated one," he explained, his brow furrowing slightly.

Y/n set the file aside with a sigh. "True, we can't have two Edwards, as delightful as that might seem.”

Y/n immersed herself in the task, each file a window into the troubled minds housed within Arkham's walls. She carefully studied the details, from the patients' histories to their treatment plans, searching for any glimmer of hope among the darkness. Some files bore the scars of past trauma, while others hinted at the depths of madness that consumed the paitents.

Despite the grim surroundings, Y/n remained undeterred, her will unwavering as she searched through the records. She knew that finding the right ally for Jonathan was crucial, and she refused to let the daunting task daunt her.

-

As Y/n sifted through the final file, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling of disappointment. Deep down, she knew the individual she had in mind wouldn't be found among these records. Still, she looked through them hoping that another potential ally would catch her eye before she reached the inevitable conclusion. But that sadly did not happen.

Y/n's disappointment lingered like a heavy cloud as she leaned against the couch behind her. Jonathan, absorbed in his paperwork, looked over at her.

"Didn't find anyone?" Jonathan's voice broke the silence.

Y/n shook her head, her lips forming a small frown. "No," she murmured.

Rising from his desk with a sigh, Jonathan approached her, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of her frustration. He offered a hand as they began to gather the files strewn across the floor.

Together, they arranged the files back into the cabinet, the soft click of folders echoing in the quiet room. Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as she closed the cabinet door.

Jonathan's touch was gentle as he cupped her face in his hands, his eyes reflecting understanding and compassion. "Thank you for trying to help me," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to her disappointed thoughts.

"I just want you to be safe," Y/n confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose you."

Jonathan's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against her cheek. "I know, Dear. And I promise you, I will never leave you," he vowed, his words infused with sincerity.

A tender kiss sealed their unspoken promise, the warmth of Jonathan's lips against hers a reminder of the care that bound them together.

“I’m going to get you something to eat, you’ve worked really hard. Feel free to use my computer.” As he offered her the use of his computer, Y/n's mind raced with anticipation, her pulse quickening with renewed hope.

Alone in the quiet office, Y/n wasted no time in accessing Jonathan's work files, her fingers moving with purpose as she typed in the name she had been longing to find: 'Waylon Jones.' With each keystroke, her excitement grew, anticipation thrumming in her veins as she delved into the possibilities that lay ahead.

Only one file was shown on the screen. She hadn't anticipated much information, and true to her expectations, the file offered little beyond a photo, a name, and the location of the detainee. Still, it was a small victory to have confirmation that he was indeed housed at Arkham.

As she clicked through the sparse details, Y/n couldn't suppress a wry smile. The file painted a vivid picture of the individual in question: big, aggressive, and extremely resistant to any attempts at examination or treatment from doctors. It seemed he had garnered quite the reputation among the staff, earning him the privilege of a solitary confinement cell, though it sounded more like a shitty underground chamber than a conventional cell.

According to the file, Waylon Jones, also known as Killer Croc, had been transferred from Blackgate Penitentiary after a series of violent incounters with other inmates, that including cannibalism, this prompting his relocation to Arkham's more secure confines. With no mention of guards stationed outside his cell, it seemed they deemed the iron door barrier formidable enough to deter any escape attempts.

As Y/n absorbed the details, a surge of excitement coursed through her veins. The thought of finding a potential ally for Jonathan filled her with anticipation. However, her excitement quickly gave way to a sinking feeling of dread. She realized that Jonathan would never allow her to come into contact with someone as dangerous as Killer Croc. His aggressive reputation and cannibalistic tendencies made him too great a risk.

Glancing at her phone, she saw the message from Jonathan. He said that while getting her food, he was caught up by other doctors and forced along to an unexpected paitent emergency. With her heart racing and adrenaline coursing through her veins, Y/n made a split-second decision. She would take matters into her own hands, consequences be damned. With Jonathan occupied and unavailable for atleast an hour, she saw a narrow window of opportunity opening before her. 

Rummaging through Jonathan's desk drawers, Y/n's fingers fumbled in search of an additional access card of his. She knew her visitor pass would only grant her limited access, and if she were to proceed with her impromptu plan, she needed all the clearance she could get.

With an access card in hand and her resolve steeled, Y/n braced herself for what lay ahead. Was this very last minute and stupid? Absolutely! Could she possibly die? More than likely. Did she wish she could take a shot of vodka first? 100%. Yet, despite the looming dangers and uncertainties, she couldn't suppress a faint flicker of hope.

Stepping out of the office, Y/n's pulse quickened with every beat. She closed the door behind her with a soft click, casting a wary glance down the dimly lit hallway. The eerie silence that enveloped the corridor sent a shiver down her spine. The absence of security measures was glaringly evident, something that should have brought her little comfort instead made her feel at ease.

Despite her guilt for disregarding Jonathan's instructions, Y/n clung to the hope that her disobedience would prove to be useful. Perhaps she could return before he even realized she was gone, and if everything goes well, she might present Jonathan with a potential ally.

Y/n's gaze flitted nervously from side to side, taking in every detail of her surroundings. The walls were lined with faded posters and peeling paint, remnants of attempts to brighten the otherwise gloomy corridors. A shiver ran down her spine as she passed by the occasional door, worried someone was going to pop out at any minute.

As she reached the map mounted on the wall, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers trembling slightly as she aimed her phone to capture the image. The soft glow of her screen illuminated the map, revealing a maze of corridors and rooms, each labeled discreetly.

With the photo safely stored on her phone, Y/n continued her journey towards the elevator. The low hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed in her ears. Every step brought her closer to the elevator, which only brought the feeling of unease.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft hiss, Y/n stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the unknown as she scanned Jonathan’s access card and pressed the button for the basement floor. The elevator lurched into motion, descending into the depths of Arkham Asylum.

She sighed in relief as the card granted her access, though the ease with which she snuck around Arkham only served to boost her nerves. The dimly lit hallway stretched before her, its atmosphere adding to her sense of unease. 

Y/n found herself appalled by the lack of security measures as she descended to the bottom floor. Pulling out her phone to consult the map, she cursed as the map to photographed only covered floors 3 and 4, prompting a groan of frustration. Nevertheless, she pressed on, determined to navigate the unfamiliar territory.

Fortunately, another map awaited her, and she quickly snapped a photo before studying it intently. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered above as she traced the route to Killer Croc's cell, designated as WC286. She couldn't help but scoff at the irony of housing such a dangerous inmate in what appeared to be the dank confines of the sewers.

"How humane," Y/n muttered sarcastically as she set off toward her destination.

Each step echoed against the concrete walls, accompanied by the ominous sounds of dripping pipes that seemed to heighten her unease.

Arriving at what she assumed to be the designated food storage area for Croc, Y/n hesitated momentarily before opening the refrigerator. The sight that greeted her was disgusting. An array of raw, whole chickens arranged haphazardly on the shelves. The pungent odor of blood and decay wafted from within, assaulting her senses and causing her to gag.

Despite her disgust, Y/n selected a chicken, her fingers recoiling slightly from its slimy surface. With a steadying breath, she closed the fridge and turned her attention to the door leading to Croc's cell. The anticipation coiled in her stomach. This was it. 

As she approached the heavy door, Y/n's pulse quickened, her hand trembling slightly as she swiped Jonathan's access card. The electronic beep of the scanner reverberated in the corridor, amplifying her anxiety. With bated breath, she watched as the indicator light flashed green, signaling her entry.

With a hesitant motion, Y/n released the lock mechanism, the metallic click resonating in the silence. Gripping the door handle tightly, she pushed it open, the heavy metal creaking ominously against its hinges. As the threshold of Croc's cell loomed before her, Y/n readied herself for the encounter, bracing for whatever lay beyond.

As Y/n stepped across the threshold, a chill swept over her, sending shivers down her spine. The dim, flickering light cast eerie shadows that danced along the damp walls of the sewer. The air was thick with the musty scent of decay, mingling with the metallic tang of moisture and the faint hint of something primal and animalistic.

With cautious steps, Y/n descended into the depths of the sewer, her footsteps echoing against the cold, wet floor. The narrow path stretched out before her, twisting and turning into darkness. 

"Hello?" Y/n's voice bounced off the walls. "I, uh... I brought some chicken."

A sudden ripple broke the silence, disturbing the murky water nearby. Y/n's heart leaped into her throat as she spun around, her eyes widening in alarm. Emerging from the depths was a figure, its form obscured by the murky waters. As it drew closer, the dim light revealed its scaly, green skin, and its piercing yellow eyes glowed with an eerie intensity.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she instinctively raised the chicken in a feeble attempt at a peace offering. "I'm not a doctor!" she blurted out, her voice trembling with fear.

The echoes of Y/n's words lingered in the cavernous space as she stood, her senses heightened, acutely aware of the looming figure before her. Waylon's form, still submerged, seemed to meld with the darkness. Each movement sent ripples across the murky water below.

“You lost, girl?” Waylon's gravelly voice cut through the silence. Y/n felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She swallowed nervously, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the sewer.

"No," Y/n responded, her voice barely above a whisper, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

The faint glint of curiosity flickered in Waylon's yellow eyes as he regarded her with suspicion. His presence exuded an aura of primal strength, sending a shiver down Y/n's spine.

As she struggled to find her words, Y/n pressed herself against the cold, damp wall, seeking some semblance of security in the darkness that enveloped them. “Then what are you doing here?” She could feel the weight of Waylon's gaze, an unspoken challenge in his penetrating stare.

Summoning her courage, Y/n introduced herself, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “My name is Y/n.”

“So?” Waylon's response was a low, guttural growl, his demeanor unyielding as he judged her.

Y/n's heart raced as she struggled to find a reason for her presence in this desolate place. “I would like to be acquaintances, or something,” The fear of his impending judgment hung heavy in the air, suffocating her attempts at explanation.

“Why?” He asked, moving closer to her through the water.

With a shaky breath, Y/n said “I would like your help,” her words faltering in the face of Waylon's imposing figure. The tension between them was palpable, a silent exchange of power and vulnerability.

“And what’s stopping me from eating you?” Waylon's question echoed in the darkness, a stark reminder of the risk of her situation.

“Nothing… but if you’re hungry, you can have chicken,” Y/n's pulse quickened as she extended the offering of chicken.

His eyes shifted between her and the chicken. Suddenly, Waylon lunged up, out of the water. Y/n screamed, her senses overwhelmed by the rush of water and the frightening movement of the creature before her.

As the echoes of her startled scream faded into the darkness, Y/n found herself trembling, her pulse racing with adrenaline. The encounter had left her shaken, yet she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the fear. She was okay. 

Waylon tore into the chicken with primal ferocity, his sharp teeth gnashing at the bones with a savage hunger. Y/n watched in a mixture of fascination and disgust, her hand recoiling as she realized it had just held the now-devoured meal.

As Waylon remained preoccupied with his feast, Y/n took the moment to attempt to clean her hand. With a grimace of disgust, she crouched down and swished her hand into the murky water, a futile attempt to cleanse away the filth.

Her efforts were met with Waylon's gruff observation, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “That water ain’t clean, girl.” Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she withdrew her hand.

Desperate to shift the focus away from her awkward blunder, Y/n attempted to strike up a conversation, her voice laced with forced casualness. “So uhh… you like it down here?” She glanced around the dimly lit surroundings, the oppressive atmosphere weighing heavily on her.

“Would you?” Waylon's response was blunt, his words carrying the weight of bitter resignation. Y/n couldn't help but empathize with the sense of isolation and despair that permeated the damp confines of the sewer.

“Uh.. no, no I would not..” The realization of the stark contrast between her privileged existence and Waylon's grim reality struck a chord within her, filling her with a profound sense of gratitude for the life she took for granted above ground.

Finishing the chicken, Waylon regarded her with skepticism, his imposing figure still partially submerged in the murky water. His demeanor had softened slightly, no longer radiating the same intimidating presence as before.

"Why you need my help?" His asked, curiously.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing her words. "Have you heard of Dr. Crane?" she asked, her tone lowered to a hushed whisper.

“What about him?” Waylon asked, sounding tense. 

“You know his… alter ego?” Y/n said, discreetly. 

"The Crow Boy," he muttered, his words filled with an air of familiarity.

Y/n nodded in acknowledgment. "He's facing some... problems with a certain… bird and… coin," she continued cryptically, her eyes darting around the surroundings for any signs of eavesdroppers.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Waylon's piercing gaze fixed on Y/n.

"I was wondering if you could help him… be an ally," Y/n replied.

Waylon remained silent for a moment, contemplating her proposal. "I ain't much help in here," he scoffed.

A flicker of determination sparked in Y/n's eyes as she leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can help you," she said, her words filled with hope.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she felt the vibration in her pocket. With a gasp, she grabbed her phone from her pocket, her stomach twisting with apprehension. It was Jonathan.

She answered with a shaky voice, "Hello?"

The stern tone of Jonathan's voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Where are you?" he demanded, his concern hidden behind his blank anger.

"Um, sorry, I'm on my way back," Y/n replied hastily, not giving Jonathan a chance to respond before hanging up.

Waylon observed her with a knowing expression, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I take it you didn't tell him of your little visit down here?" he remarked dryly.

"I have to go," Y/n said hurriedly, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

With a quick glance back at Waylon, Y/n offered a brief wave. "I'll see you later," she called out before darting off towards the security door.

Y/n's heart raced as she completed the security measures at the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she ensured everything appeared undisturbed. Y/n paused for a moment, with a cautious glance over her shoulder, she surveyed the corridor behind her, her senses on high alert. Satisfied that all seemed quiet and undisturbed, she turned back around to continue on her way.

But as she turned, her breath caught in her throat, and her heart skipped a beat. Standing right in front of her was Jonathan. The unexpected sight sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through her veins, and she froze in place, her pulse quickening with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"Uh… hey, Jonathan..." Y/n's voice faltered, a nervous edge creeping into her tone.

Jonathan's response was a stern silence, his features rigid with barely contained anger.

"Jonathan?" Y/n's voice wavered as she tried to meet his gaze, but he remained stoically silent, his jaw set in a tight line.

Without a word, he grabbed her wrist in a firm grip, his fingers closing around her skin with a vice-like grip. Y/n let out a small gasp of surprise, her pulse quickening at the thightness of his grip.

With a tug, Jonathan began to drag her towards the elevator, his grip unyielding as he pulled her into the elevator. Y/n stumbled slightly, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to keep pace with his stride. Each step feeling heavier than the last as the weight of Jonathan's anger bore down upon her.

As they reached the elevator, Jonathan scanned his ID. The soft hum of the elevator filled the tense silence between them as they waited, the air thick with unspoken tension.

When the doors slid open, Jonathan released her wrist, but his gaze remained fixed upon her with an intensity that made her skin prickle with unease. Without a word, he gestured for her to exit the elevator, his silent command clear.

With a trembling breath, Y/n stepped out, the weight of Jonathan's silent anger heavy upon her shoulders. 

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest with nervousness. With each step closer to Jonathan's office, her stomach twisted into tighter knots of anxiety, a sense of unease settling over her like a heavy fog.

Upon reaching the door, Y/n hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle as she braced herself for what would lay ahead. Jonathan's presence behind her felt suffocating, his towering figure casting a shadow over her as he stood just a breath away.

With a sharp click, Jonathan unlocked the door. Y/n entered the office as Jonathan followed close behind her. The door closed with a resounding thud, sealing them both in a confined space.

Turning to face Jonathan, Y/n felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her fingers trembling with nerves. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Jonathan's voice cut through the air like a whip, sharp and unforgiving.

"Jonathan, I—" Y/n began, but her words were drowned out by the force of his anger, his voice bouncing off the walls of the small office.

"What were you thinking?" Jonathan's voice was filled with anger, his eyes blazing with barely contained rage.

"You kn—" Y/n attempted to explain herself, but Jonathan's outburst was relentless.

"Do you know how dangerous that was, Y/n?!" Jonathan's words came out in a flood of frustration, his tone harsh.

"Yes, but I—" Y/n tried to protest, but Jonathan's tirade showed no signs of stopping, his anger boiling over.

"I told you to stay here, but you didn't listen to me! Not only that, but you took my access card, and now there's probably footage of you going into Croc's cell! I'm going to have to go through the files and delete whatever footage there is of you!" Jonathan walked back and forth, trying to get a hold of his frustration.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. I know I've probably caused so much trouble for you," Y/n began. She glanced down at the access card in her hand, a silent acknowledgment of her mistake.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed as he regarded her, his brow furrowed with frustration. "You could have died, Y/n. What were you thinking!" His voice boomed in the office, echoing off the walls with a force that made Y/n flinch.

Feeling the weight of Jonathan's disappointment, Y/n took a step forward, her heart racing. "I was thinking about you! I'm sorry, I should have told you, but look, I'm okay!" Her voice wavered slightly, her eyes pleading for him to understand.

Jonathan's laughter cut through the tension, but there was no humor in it, only a bitter edge that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. "You are never leaving the warehouse," he laughed, his eyes filled with darkness.

Y/n's shoulders sagged with the weight of his words, but she refused to back down. "Jonathan, please! Waylon is willing to help!" Her voice rose in urgency.

Jonathan's stomped around the room, his anger radiating off of him. Y/n stood rooted to the spot, her pulse racing as she watched him gather his belongings. The click of his briefcase snapping shut echoed like a final verdict.

With a sharp intake of breath, Jonathan's hand closed around Y/n's wrist, his grip tight and unyielding. She winced at the pressure, feeling the weight of his anger bearing down on her.

"Jonathan, please..." Y/n's voice wavered.

But Jonathan's response cut her off. "Stop talking," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. Y/n fell silent, her heart sinking with the weight of his disappointment.

The hallway seemed to stretch on endlessly as Jonathan marched forward with determined strides. Y/n hurried to keep up, her steps clumsy as she struggled to match his pace. Her heart hammered in her chest, the weight of regret and guilt bearing down on her with each passing moment. Jonathan's shoulders were squared and jaw set in a firm line.

Tears threatened to spill from Y/n's eyes as Jonathan's grip on her wrist tightened, a silent, but bruising reminder of his anger. She swallowed hard, wishing she could turn back time and undo her reckless actions.

As they reached the exit, the cool air outside offered little relief from the stifling tension between them. Y/n cast a glance back at the now-empty hallway, praying no one saw the two of them. He practically forced Y/n into the passenger seat of his car, the force of his actions leaving her shaken.

Behind the wheel, Jonathan's jaw was set, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he drove with single-minded focus. The tension in the car was tight, a silent testament to the breach of trust between them.

As they pulled up to the warehouse, Jonathan slammed the car door shut with a resounding thud. Y/n hesitated, her hands trembling as she reached for the door handle. She had no time before Jonathan pulled open her door and yanked her out.

Wordlessly, Jonathan unlocked the warehouse door and ushered Y/n inside. The atmosphere inside was heavy with tension, each step echoing with the weight of their strained relationship.

Y/n trailed behind Jonathan as he moved through the warehouse, each click of the lock sending a shiver down her spine. His movements were methodical, reminiscent of the way he had locked her in when he first brought her here. The sound of the locks sliding into place echoed in the silence, sealing off any chance of escape. Y/n's heart sank as she watched Jonathan lock the warehouse door. The sound echoed in the empty space, filling her with a sense of dread. She couldn't bear the thought of being trapped again. Jonathan's jaw was set in a rigid line, his eyes cold and distant as he shut her out, both physically and emotionally.

Tears welled in Y/n's eyes as she struggled to find the right words to explain herself. "Jonathan, please," she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to upset you. I was just trying to help."

But Jonathan remained silent, his back turned to her as he continued his task. The sound of locks clicking shut reverberated through the warehouse, each one sealing her fate a little more tightly.

Jonathan's expression softened slightly as he turned to face Y/n, his gaze piercing through her tear-filled eyes. "Y/n, I need you to understand the gravity of what you've done," he began, his voice heavy with disappointment. "You put yourself in danger, disregarding every warning I've given you. Do you realize how reckless that was?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, Jonathan," she managed to choke out between sobs.

Jonathan's features softened further as he knelt down in front of her, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. "I know you didn't, but that doesn't change the fact that your actions could have had serious consequences," he said softly. "I need you to promise me that you'll never do something like this again."

Y/n nodded, her tears continuing to flow unabated. "I promise, Jonathan. I'll never do anything like this again," she vowed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jonathan pulled her into a comforting embrace, holding her close as they both sought solace in each other's presence. Despite the turmoil of the moment, there was an unspoken understanding between them.

As Jonathan held her close, Y/n couldn't help but feel like a child, being told off by an adult. She buried her face in his chest, seeking comfort in his embrace while silently chastising herself for her impulsive actions. 

Y/n slowly collected herself, she realized Jonathan's actions were likely meant to be more of a warning to scare her than an actual punishment. As Jonathan pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Go clean yourself up," Jonathan said gently. "I need to call Edward."

With a nod, Y/n rose from her place on the floor. She headed off to the shower. Despite feeling shaken by Jonathan's reaction, she couldn't deny the underlying sense of relief that washed over her. Deep down, she knew that his protectiveness stemmed from a place of genuine concern and affection. While his actions had scared her, she understood that they were necessary, a stark reminder of the dangers she had exposed herself to.

As she processed it all, a wave of gratitude washed over her, mingling with a profound sense of dependence on Jonathan. Despite being the cause of her distress, he was also the only one who could soothe her troubled mind. In his arms, she found solace and security, a comforting refuge from the frightening world.

-

Y/n's shower was quick. Stepping out into the dimly lit expanse of the warehouse which she called home, she felt the weight of Jonathan's gaze before she even saw him. He was immersed in his work at the workbench, the soft glow of the computer screen casting shadows across his features.

Intrigued, Y/n approached him, her curiosity piqued by the images flickering across the monitor. As she peered over his shoulder, she caught sight of the video footage from Arkham playing on the screen, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

"Is this what you called Edward for?" Y/n asked.

Jonathan glanced up, his gaze meeting hers through the lenses of his glasses. “Yes,” he replied simply.

Without a word, he gestured for her to join him, his silent invitation drawing her closer. Tentatively, she settled onto his lap, nestling into his embrace. She felt a sense of familiarity and warmth wash over her, easing the tension that had knotted her muscles.

Together, they watched the footage unfold, the scenes playing out before them like a silent movie. She found herself leaning into him, seeking solace in his touch and the safety of his embrace. His touch was gentle against her skin, his presence a reassuring anchor in the storm of her thoughts.

"I apologize for how I treated you earlier," Jonathan's words were soft against her cheek, his breath warm against her skin.

Y/n offered a faint smile, a silent acknowledgment of his apology while her heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and relief. “It’s okay,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Jonathan leaned his head against her shoulder, his warmth enveloping her like a protective shield against the world. “I shouldn’t be encouraging this, but it looks like you did well… Waylon didn’t seem to mind you,” he observed.

Resting her head against Jonathan's shoulder, she allowed herself a moment of relief, her gaze fixed on the screen before them.  Y/n couldn't help but smile at his words, a sense of accomplishment swelling within her chest.

But her joy was short-lived as Jonathan's expression turned somber, his gaze fixed on the screen as he changed the video. “But I need you to understand the gravity of your actions.”

The images flickered and danced across the surface, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of Gotham. As the new footage played, revealing the unsettling scene of Waylon's sudden aggression towards a doctor, Y/n's breath caught in her throat. The brutality of the scene sent a shiver down her spine, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

“You understand why I was worried now?” Jonathan's voice was soft, yet held authority.

Y/n nodded slowly, her expression reflecting the shock and concern that still lingered within her. “How do we know he won’t do that to you?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly with uncertainty.

“We don’t,” Jonathan admitted. “But I’m going to have to find out how to deal with it, not you.”

A flicker of determination flashed across Y/n's features. “I could do it, you saw how he treated me,” she offered.

Jonathan sighed. “Even with my consent, Arkham would never allow it and I can’t be messing around with the cameras all the time, someone’s going to notice,” he explained with a sigh. “I'll just have to see if I can take him as a patient and work from there.”

In the quiet aftermath of their conversation, Y/n couldn't shake the sense of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. She just hoped Jonathan would be safe. 

-

Y/n's heart raced with excitement as she slipped out into the night, her footsteps echoing softly in the deserted streets. She knew she probably shouldn't have gone out alone, especially at this hour, but the thought of surprising Jonathan with freshly baked cookies was too enticing to resist. 

With the fear gas canister tucked securely in her pocket, Y/n felt a newfound sense of confidence coursing through her veins. She couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought of being out on her own, even if just for a short while. 

As she made her way towards the supermarket, the cool night air brushed against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Despite the darkness looming around her, Y/n couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. The walk was only 10 minutes at most and she felt safe with the fear gas given to her by Jonathan.

Sure, there was always the lingering concern of encountering Batman, but Y/n pushed that thought to the back of her mind. After all, she reasoned, the chances of an innocent girl like her crossing paths with the caped crusader twice in in a life time were practically zero.

Picking up groceries from the supermarket was easy enough, and with her bags in hand, Y/n began her journey back home. As she neared the warehouses, however, a sense of unease crept over her like a shadow.

"Stupid nerves," she muttered under her breath, cursing herself for feeling frightened.

Every rustle in the darkness made her heart skip a beat, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger. "Come on, Y/n. It's not like anyone's actually here," she reassured herself, though the words did little to quell her rising anxiety.

But then, just as she was about to dismiss her fears, a voice sliced through the silence from the shadows. “I wouldn’t count on that.” 

Y/n's scream echoed in the night as Batman emerged before her, his imposing figure casting a long shadow in the dim light.

"Are you kidding me?" Y/n spat out, frustrated. This wasn't her first encounter with the Dark Knight, and this time, she wasn't about to cower in fear as there was nothing to fear. 

"Did I startle you?" Batman's question rang hollow in the tense air, almost sarcastically.

"Nah, I just screamed at the fucking moon," Y/n retorted, clearly irritated. All she wanted was to return home and bake her cookies.

Ignoring Batman's presence, Y/n turned on her heel and began to walk away, only for him to step out in front of her. Her heart leaped into her throat, what does he want with her?

"Do you mind?" Y/n asked, attempting to maintain her composure.

"There was footage of you at Arkham," Batman stated bluntly.

Feeling like she was under interrogation, Y/n tried to keep her cool. "How do you know who I am?" she countered.

"You went missing a couple of months ago, hard not to know you," Batman replied evenly.

"I was never missing," Y/n refuted.

"Why were you at Arkham?" Batman pressed on.

"I'm a psychology student at Gotham University. My professor takes me there for learning purposes," Y/n explained, her voice steady despite the tension.

"You're rather close to this Professor," Batman observed.

"He's a friend. I'm the only student that ever attends the office hours, so he knows me well," Y/n replied, the words carrying a hint of defensiveness. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"Some of the footage at Arkham was altered, footage of you, I assume," Batman's words sent a chill down her spine. 

“Cool…and?” Y/n pretended not to care, trying to hide her nerves, but she was running out of excuses.

“I managed to uncover that footage. What were you doing in the basement?” Batman's tone was firm, demanding answers.

“I was curious,” Y/n replied vaguely, hoping to deflect his questions.

“Curious of Killer Croc?” Batman pressed, his voice laced with suspicion.

“Naturally,” Y/n answered, keeping her responses brief.

“Are you aware of how dangerous a man like Killer Croc is?” Batman's question was stern.

“Yeah, my professor drilled that message into me afterwards, but he attacks doctors, not visitors, so I thought I’d be safe, and clearly, I was.” Y/n explained, attempting to rationalize her actions to Batman.

“Why did you look for Killer Croc?” Batman's interrogation continued.

“I told you, curiosity,” Y/n repeated, her tone firm despite the rising tension.

"No one does something as dangerous as that out of curiosity," Batman's words hung heavy in the air.

Y/n's chest tightened with a mixture of frustration and anger. His statement struck a nerve. 

"Well, maybe that's the problem with you," she countered sharply, her voice laced with anger. "You only see these people as enemies and dangerous. No wonder Waylon attacks the doctors, it's people like you that drill the message that Waylon’s a monster into people's heads."

With determination flashing in her eyes, Y/n pushed past Batman, her steps purposeful as she continued walking. But even in her departure, a lingering sense of conviction halted her stride. She pivoted on her heel, facing Batman once more.

"He’s no monster," she said, her voice ringing out in the stillness of the night. "He’s just like any other patient at Arkham. Everyone has a bad day now and then."

With her chin held high and her words echoing in the alley, Y/n turned away from Batman, striding off into the shadows with an air of defiance and self-assurance.

As Y/n finally arrived home, the weight of the encounter with Batman settled heavily upon her shoulders. The realization of what had transpired washed over her like a cold wave, sending a shiver down her spine. 

"Great, now Batman's probably going to be keeping an eye on me," she muttered to herself, a knot of worry forming in her chest.

But she quickly pushed aside her worry, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. With a determined sigh, she managed to bury her concerns for the time being and instead try to distract herself.

"Let's just make those cookies for Jonathan," she said aloud, mustering a faint smile in an attempt to reassure herself.

Y/n wondered whether to disclose her encounter with Batman to Jonathan. The idea of revealing such a tense exchange left her feeling hesitant, unsure of how he would react. However, she knew one thing for certain. She couldn't afford to let her guard down. Not anymore.

-

A/N: Holy fuck, am I glad to post part five to this fic, sorry it took so long 💚

A bit boring, this part, but I wanted to post this part and I had a loT planed for this part, but decided it would not only take too long but it would be so long for one chapter, so I broke it up into two parts.

I hope you like where this fic is headed and are excited for the next part (Whenever that might be 💀)

I wrote Batman in here with the Animated Series!Batman in mind, so if he doesn't seem like Nolan!Batman, that's why (although, I don't even know if I did it that well). But yeah, I tend to write for different characters from different universes and just hope they play out well :p

I was watching "Love is a Croc" episode (one of my favorite) while writing this, so i kinda had him in mind while writing. Still mad how he betrayed Babydoll light that 😤 but Waylon my baby, so I forgive him.

I have a lot of other requests to get through first and assignments (not month I am on break, so I'll be able to write more often)

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed :)

[phereinnike]

OMINIS LORE DROPPED BY DIALOGUE AT THE END OF THE HISTORY OF MAGIC CLASS QUEST!

Pardon if the wording isn't exact, as you can see by the screenshot I'm playing in spanish, but here are some dialogue lines Ominis speaks to Natty and you if you stay to listen after finishing the History of Magic class map quest:

Quidditch:

"Next season the Chudley Cannons will be invincible, you'll see!

"My father was a great seeker and he always thought I'd be one too. Thank Merlin they cancelled quidditch."

"I miss attending the matches. Cheering everyone was very fun. And watching Isaac Cooper."

"My friends and I like to spend the evenings watching the sun set from the quidditch pitch. This year it isn't much good for anything else, unfortunately."

"I spent the entire summer practicing a full turn on a broom. What a waste!"

Family:

"This is the first year my sister is in Hogwarts. Whenever she pretends she doesn't see me in the corridors I make her trip with a jinx."

"This is the first year my siblings and I are together at Hogwarts. Our poor mother doesn't know what to do with so much time on her hands, so she knits. She sends us a new sweater each week."

"You try to work with a wand that has been through your three disastrous sisters."

"My father says he used to hide his homework under his bed."

"I used to write to my parents every week. Now I can't recall the last time I sent them an owl, do you think they know i'm still alive?"

"I hadn't met any of my cousins until i came to Hogwarts and saw that we were all in the same house."

"My brother has promised to give me his old broom when he saves up enough to buy himself a new one. I can't wait!"

Studies/teachers:

"If I manage to stop dissappearing my class notes while practicing evanesco I might even pass the Transfigurations O.W.L. this year."

"Professor Weasley is a trully incredible teacher. She never makes us write scrolls longer than necessary."

"Professor Weasley is already preparing me for the Transfigurations N.E.W.T."

"The other day Professor Black looked at me in the Great Hall and I spat my breakfast. I don't know if he might've taken it the wrong way."

"What a relieve that Black's children are too young to attend Hogwarts. I'd hate having my father as headmaster."

"Obviously, Hogwarts is the best magic school in the world. Everyone knows that. Of course, we'll be the best at magic in the world."

"Professor Howin is going to ask us about aquatic animals next week. I can't wait to tell her I saw a kelpie in Ireland this summer."

"I took my copy of 1000 Herbs and Magical Fungy to Herbology and left it in the greenhouse next to the mandrake seedbeds. Sharp was horrified by the fact that i didn't have it in class. He said I needed to sort out my priorities."

"Everyone is afraid of Professor Sharp, but not me. He's a brilliant man. And he has only yelled at me twice this week for setting my cloak on fire."

"I wonder how Sharp injured his leg. Surely, it must've been during his time as an auror."

"You should hear Shah talk about Divination. It's a miracle Onai's ears aren't burning. I'd say stars are more knowledgeable than cards."

"I'm still having a hard time brewing antidotes. I'm surprised to many of them ask for mandrakes. I'll make sure I set my career goals far away from that."

"That reminds me, did miss Scribner say we could take the book out at night or that she'd punish us if we did?"

"I've notices that if I pretend to pay attention in Potions, Sharp lets me be. It works well enough, unless he asks me a question. Then it's not a good plan at all. Actually, I wouldn't recommend it."

"Sharp caught me making faces behind his back. It was horrible... not to speak of all the house points I lost."

"if someone needs help with their studies or homework, I don't mind lending them a hand. Yesterday I wrote half a scroll for Binns during lunch break."

"I have no problem saying I have trouble understanding that Black is married. What kind of witch would give her hand to a man like that? On the other hand, that means there's hope for everyone."

"I need dragon-skin gloves for Herbology. I refuse to touch chinese chomping cabbages with my naked hands."

"Why aren't we allowed to use gillyweed? What's the point of learning Herbology if we can't mess around with gillyweed? If by the end of the trimester I haven't personally met a mermaid I'll be mad."

[unlike others] "I do like Transfigurations. The complex and precisse nature of transfigurations is admirable."

"I met some of my best friends in Flying class. Nothing strenghtes a bond like thinking you're going to die."

"Professor Weasley must be exhausted doing all her work and then Black's. We're lucky to have her."

Slytherin house:

"Someone got home-made chocolate cauldrons and shared them in the common room. But I think they might've confused the sugar with salt. There were half-eaten chocolate cauldrons in the common room for days."

"I don't know why each common room has a secret entrance. Who would want to go to another common room? We got sorted to our houses for a reason."

"Our dorm is atrocious. I wish people cleaned up after themselves once in a while. Last night a bundimun ate my homework. The potions one, too."

"I like to have a wiggenweld potion under my bed. Not to name any names but someone spent a lot of money on Zonko's."

"My side of the dorm is always impeccable, but I can't say the same about my dorm-mates. If I didn't know them I'd say they were raised by trolls."

Others:

"Has there been any news about the Pitt-upon-Ford Dragon? It makes me want to move, to be honest."

"My great-aunt was a Hufflepuf. She says they have the best common room because it's the calmest. Well, compared to the others."

"I wish I had brought a pet owl to school. I mean, I love my toad. More or less. You wouldn't be interested in getting a toad, would you?"

"Do all professors have their own owls? They must sent lots of letters. To the Ministry or something like that."

"So many letters arrive every day and none are for me."

"If i turn my toad into a cup again, I think it might insist I leave it like that."

"I'd like to retire in Hogsmead. Open a bar. Bore Hogwart's students with my childhood stories."

"I'd like to have a shop in Hogsmead one day. Gladrags Wizardwear could use some competition."

"I guess I'm curious about the beautification potion. What? It's not for me, idiot! It's for a friend. Don't say dumb things."

"Has there been any new about the Pitt-upon-Ford Dragon? It makes me want to move, to be honest."

"My great-aunt was a Hufflepuf. She says they have the best common room because it's the calmest. Well, compared to the others."

"Do all professors have their own owls? They must sent lots of letters. To the Ministry or something like that."

"So many letters arrive every day and none are for me."

"If i turn my toad into a cup again, I think it might insist I leave it like that."

"Have you been by the owlery lately? the house elves haven't been cleaning much this week."

"The other day Peeves distracted me and I bumped right into Adelaide Oakes. Both our books went up flying int he air. Peeves loved it."

"I don't like the size of my legs. Well, you were asking the other day, so I'm telling you."

"I had been collecting chizpurfle fangs all trimester when I thought, why not keep some chizpurfles."

"I really pity those who never get owl-post, poor guys. Have you seen their faces in the great hall?"

"I've heard girls talk about african snake skin near the bathroom. Do you think they're brewing pollyjuice? Oh, what if they've already brewed it and Sharp is actually that hufflepuff girl with the long arms?"

"Today I'm going to the green-houses to sow some knotgrass. Did you know it's used for pollyjuice potion? I think it's what creates the connection to the other person."

"There's an ex-auror living near Hogsmead. She wants to live a quiet life after fighting dark wizards."

"Do you know where I can get leaping toadstoll caps?"

"I just don't get it. Opalum. Who would think to put that in a potion?"

"The other day I got stuck in the Great Staircase for an hour waiting for it to change. Sharp wouldn't believe me when I told him that's why I was late."

"Parry Pippin sure did save me with his wiggenweld potion. In my opinion, his shop's better than any of the ones in London."

"Did you buy your bitterroot from Pippin or did you pick it up yourself? I need some desperately."

That's all I got after staying to listen for about an hour <3

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Problem Solved

Summary: Problems are stacking up in Y/N's life. Does Beau have the solution?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None. Just kissing. Fluff. Stressed!Reader. Beau being an angel.

Word Count: 3,594

A/N: So, I wrote this fluffy piece for my friend @deanswaywardgirl who's been having a rough time and just needed some fluffy Beau to get her through. I'm sorry my dear, this ended up quite a bit longer than I'd planned, and I'm sorry it took me more than a day to get it to you, but I hope it helps. And I hope everyone enjoys the fluffiness.

The beautiful divider below and at the bottom was created by @firefly-graphics

"Goddamn-son-of-a-bitch-piece-of-shi-"

"You know," Beau's deep drawl interrupted Y/N's strung together, angry cursing, "I don’t understand how someone so sweet and innocent looking, can manage to curse bluer than a sailor."

Y/N stopped trying to juggle her purse, her car keys, multiple grocery bags and an empty coffee cup long enough to turn to Beau and frown at his amusement.

"I've practiced a lot." She said succinctly. 

She waited a moment and then shook her head, eyebrows raised. "Oh don't worry, I'm good. Definitely don't need any help here, Sheriff." She said, dripping sarcasm.

Beau chuckled at her pouty, out-of-sorts face before reaching to grab what looked like the heaviest paper bag. As he took it from her, however, one of the bags she still held split open and sent a third of her groceries rolling across the parking lot. 

A scream of frustration erupted from her throat before the next round of cursing. 

"Piss-poor-goddam–shoddy-piece-" She rambled as she set her third bag on the ground and began chasing down her runaway canned goods as they rolled down the sloping parking lot. Beau set his bag next to hers and helped her wrangle the cans and a bag full of oranges back into their arms. 

"Looks like your day is going great so far, darlin." Beau teased as he piled the cans onto the back seat. 

A chunk of hair had worked its way loose from Y/N’s ponytail and she blew a puff of air upwards trying to get it out of her face, while Beau took the bags she held out to him, and put them in the back seat as well.

"Yeah, it's been a really peachy morning, beginning with my kitchen sink exploding on me when I tried to make coffee, drenching me in the process. I told my landlord and he said he'd 'try to fix it'." Y/N said with finger quotes.

Beau slammed the back door shut and Y/N slumped against the side of the car. He gave her a sympathetic look as he stood in front of her, the thumb of his right hand hooked over the waistband of his jeans and his left hand shoved in his pocket.

Y/N continued recounting her less than stellar morning. “So I’ve had no coffee yet today because I came with my cup,” she said, lifting the reusable, plastic coffee cup she still held, “planning on getting coffee from the diner before I went grocery shopping, but their stupid machine is broken. So now I’m just carrying around this useless cup cause it doesn’t fit in my purse.”

She let out another huff, and opened the driver’s side door to throw her purse and the cup inside, before slamming it shut a bit harder than necessary.

Beau frowned. “Why didn’t you just throw the cup back in your car before you went into the grocery store?”

Y/N looked puzzled for a moment before she frowned. “I don’t know!” She said, throwing her arms up. “Because I’m an idiot and I’m operating without coffee!”

Beau chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Anything perishable in your groceries? Something that won't keep for an hour or so?" 

Y/N shook her head, puzzled. "No, just pantry stuff and fruit."

"Then come with me." He said and pulled her along with him, still tucked into his side. He led them over to his big red truck and helped her climb up into the cab.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked, slightly exasperated. 

"To the place that serves the best coffee in town." He answered, as he closed the door.

***

Y/N took a long sip of coffee and sighed contentedly. It may not have actually been the best coffee in town, but it was dark, and rich, and creamy and she could practically feel the caffeine flowing through her veins. 

She called back through the door of Beau’s little silver trailer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help make lunch?” She asked because it was the polite thing to do, and she felt a bit guilty just sitting and relaxing while Beau did all the work. But she was incredibly relieved when he declined.

“No way, sweetheart. First of all, there’s no room for two people in this quote/unquote kitchen. And second, you’ve earned the right to relax. I’ll be done in a minute.”

Y/N sighed again and took another big gulp of coffee. This one burnt the roof of her mouth a bit, but she still didn’t care. After the morning she had, this was paradise. She’d only been to Beau’s one other time, and she just waited in the car while he ran in to grab something. She’d never seen the inside, or got to experience the beautiful view from his front porch.

She looked around now and took it all in. Montana sure was beautiful. It was world’s away from her old life in Manhattan, where you could barely see the sky, never mind mountains and forest. She’d left New York only three months ago, but every day she was here, her old life fell further and further into mere memory. 

She’d spent the last ten years of her life going non-stop. Columbia - four years for her undergrad then another four at medical school. Eight years excelling at something she didn’t want to do. 

So - two years into her residency she’d made the incredibly impulsive decision to leave it all behind. The move shocked and horrified her parents.

It was practically a family tradition to go to Columbia and become a doctor. Her grandfather, her father, her aunt, and a bevy of cousins had all attended Columbia to become doctors and then gone on to make a fortune in ritzy private practices. 

Only one cousin that she knew of had bucked the system a bit, deciding to practice in a free clinic in Queens rather than open another high priced office that catered to the rich people of New York, of which there were many.

That cousin didn’t get invited to many family functions.

But if she was ostracized for serving underprivileged people, she was still worlds above where Y/N found herself now. Living states away in Montana and training in veterinary medicine. 

She’d always been interested in animal care. But when, at fourteen years old, she told her mother and father that she wanted to be a veterinarian,  they had just stared at her like she’d grown a second head. She tried to explain to them how much she loved animals, and the idea of being able to work with them everyday, help them and heal them appealed to her immensely. She tried to explain that she’d still be using her aptitude for science, she’d just be applying it in a field that excited her.

But the answer had been a resounding no, and she’d been pushed further down the road towards Columbia. She’d reluctantly followed that path. She thought her parents probably knew best, and she didn’t bring it up to them again. 

Until three months ago when she’d informed them that she’d left her residency program and enrolled herself for the fall semester at the University of Montana, in the Veterinary Medicine program. 

Her parents had absolutely refused to listen to anything she said on the matter. They kept insisting that she was just feeling burnt out. They suggested that she take a few weeks off, and recuperate. She tried to explain that she wasn’t burnt out, she was fed up; fed up of working almost eighty hours a week doing something she didn’t want to do. 

When reasoning hadn’t worked with Y/N, her parents resorted to threats. They promised her that they were not about to pay for her to go to school in Helena, and that if she threw away all the years they’d put into her education then she needn’t bother coming home for the holidays. Y/N had agreed to those terms, moved out of her tiny studio apartment, loaded up her little Toyota hatchback, and driven for three days, staying in crappy little motels along the way, before she reached Helena. 

She’d used her savings to pay for her first semester of school, and six months worth of rent. She was on month three and she was starting to panic slightly about where money was going to come from. She needed a job, but it had to work around her school schedule, and she had no work history other than a hospital residency program that she’d dropped out of. 

Now she had a sink that didn’t work, and a landlord who didn’t seem to be a handyman. And when she’d started her car that morning, she heard a distinctive squeal that meant she’d probably have to take it in sooner than later. 

She sighed and took another gulp of coffee. At least one thing had improved in her day. As the thought entered her mind, Beau walked out of his trailer with a stack of chicken salad sandwiches and a big bowl of salad. 

Okay, two things had improved in her day. 

“Oh my god, Beau.” She exclaimed. “This is way too much! You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.” 

He scoffed dismissively. “N’ah, wasn’t any trouble. I had the chicken salad made up already, so all I did was throw vegetables in a bowl.”

Y/N shook her head. Beau had been a godsend since she moved to Helena. She met him on only her second day in town. She'd been given a speeding ticket and had gone into the sheriff’s department to pay it. She’d been in a particularly rotten mood that day as well, since she certainly didn’t have almost eighty dollars to throw away on a ticket. For going barely ten miles over the speed limit. 

She must have looked desperate or maybe at the end of her rope, because Beau had come over to the deputy taking her payment, and taken over the transaction. She’d been shocked out of her mood by the ridiculously beautiful man behind the counter. He was long and broad, with dazzling green eyes, and dark blonde hair she immediately wanted to run her fingers through. He spoke, and his deep, Texas honey voice sent a shiver up her spine, making her whole body tingle.

She was so completely and instantly enamored of him that, at first, she missed the fact that he was dismissing her fees. When it finally sank in through her moony brain that he was being kind and helping her out, her heart fluttered even faster. 

He’d smiled his killer smile at her. “It was only ten miles over the limit. And you’re obviously new in town.” He said handing back her New York state license. “Just watch your speed next time.”

Y/N nodded happily. “Yes, sir. I will be very careful in the future.”

“Beau.”

“Sorry?” She asked. 

He smiled again and practically knocked her off her feet. “It’s Beau, not sir.”

They’d become fast friends, even though Y/N’s heart raced like crazy when he was around, and as far as she could tell, he had no feelings for her like that whatsoever. But he was the only person she really knew in town besides her crappy landlord, so she relished her time with him.

He’d helped her adjust to Helena with stories of his own experiences of being new in town. They watched movies together at her place (her one bedroom apartment still being bigger than Beau's trailer) and they grabbed supper three or four evenings a week. Beau always insisted on paying for her because he knew she was a poor, struggling, soon-to-be student. He constantly refused to let her grab the check. So she’d taken to slipping twenty dollar bills into his jacket pocket, but somehow he always found them and slipped them back into hers.

He texted her pretty much every day to check in and see how she was. And even if she’d been having a morning similar to today’s, his name popping up on her phone always made her smile.

She knew that at some point the little (or large) crush she had on him was going to cause trouble because it wasn’t diminishing. Every day she knew him, he carved his way a little deeper into her heart. She couldn’t help it. He was so kind, so warm. He was such an amazing dad, and she envied the relationship he and Emily had, having never had anything like it with her own father. 

He was like sunshine, a burst of serotonin in cowboy packaging. She knew she was in trouble there.

Beau set down the plate of sandwiches on the table between their chairs and then went in to grab bowls and forks for their salad. When they were both served, they sat munching the yummy food without conversation, just laughing and enjoying the antics of a couple of squirrels arguing over winter hiding places. 

The food, the coffee, and most of all, the man beside her, had gone a long way to making up for her rotten morning. 

When they’d finished eating though, Beau reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Okay, darlin’, lay it on me. It’s not just coffee throwing you off your game this morning. What’s goin’ on?”

Y/N relished the warmth of his big hand covering hers, and her heart raced fast again as he ran his calloused thumb over her knuckles. 

She shrugged in answer. But he pushed on.

“Your sink exploded. And you don’t think your landlord will fix it?”

“Well, he hasn’t fixed my dripping shower, or my broken bedroom window…so I don’t hold out a lot of hope, no.” Y/N said defeatedly. 

Beau nodded. “What else?” 

She stayed quiet at first; she didn’t want to dump all of her problems on him. She didn’t want to be a burden to the only friend she had. But the soft, caring look in his mossy green eyes, told her it was safe to vent. 

Her voice started off quiet, but grew louder as she talked about all that was bothering her. 

“I have no job, my savings are rapidly running out, I start school in a week, and I’m incredibly nervous that I gave up a whole 'life plan' to come do this. What if I suck at it? What if all the animals hate me? What if my parents were right this whole time and I really have just thrown my life away?”

She was quiet for a moment more before ducking her head and finishing in a small voice. “Oh, and my car is squeaking.”

After a minute, Beau let go of her hand to lift her chin with his fingers so she was looking at him again. “Do you want me to try and problem solve, or are you just venting?”

Y/N let out a watery chuckle, tears threatening and making her eyes glassy. “Oh Beau, if you have any solutions, I’m all ears.”

He smiled wide and her belly flip flopped. “K, so I’ll be by tomorrow, it’s my day off. I’ll fix your sink and tub, no problem. I owned a fixer upper in Dallas, learned lots. And I’ll take a look at your bedroom window and see what I can do.”

Y/N was shaking her head. “Beau, that’s…you don’t have to do that. It’s your day off, you must have better things to do.”

But he just shook his head. “Shh, I’m problem solving.”

Y/N laughed lightly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know crap about cars, but I am friends with Sonny at Lincoln Motors, and he owes me a favor, so he’ll take care of it, and you can just pay for parts.”

Y/N was staring at him, her eyes wide. “Beau.” 

But he just kept going. “You should have told me before that you were looking for work. I thought you weren’t planning on working while you’re going to school, otherwise I would have mentioned it sooner. But we have a part time position available at the station that would be perfect for you. We need weekend care for the four dogs in the canine unit. You’d have to walk 'em, and feed 'em, exercise 'em a bit. Pays pretty decent, but we’re having a hard time filling the position cause it’s only weekends. You’d have to take a course about how to care for 'em, but it’s just one afternoon.” He smiled at her. “I promise to give you a good character reference.”

Y/N just shook her head in amazement. “What…what are you my fairy godfather? You just solved all my problems.” She was stunned. These were issues she’d been worried about and struggling with for quite a while, certainly the issues with her broken apartment and no job. She opened her mouth to him one time, and he just swooped in and saved her.

The thought made her shake her head again, refuting her earlier question. “No, you’re not my fairy godfather.” She beamed at him, but lowered her gaze shyly. “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

Beau got up from his seat and kneeled in front of her, taking hold of her hand again. “No, not a knight, a friend. And Y/N as your friend, I can tell you without hesitation, that you’re gonna do great in school. You’re incredibly smart, and you have a beautiful soul. Animals will love you. You're gonna succeed, I promise you that."

Y/N eyes shone brightly with unshed tears and she impulsively threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. His strong arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close, tight against him. 

She felt the hard wall of his chest pressed warm and solid against her and tried not to moan. She didn't mean to, but without thinking, she buried her fingers in his hair, letting the silky strands slide through her fingers. His beard felt surprisingly soft as their cheeks pressed together. His big hands started caressing her back softly, massaging slightly and Y/N began to notice the way his heart beat fast under his ribs and his breathing  was a bit unsteady. 

Finally, he pulled back from her to catch her eye, and Y/N could see the desire spark in his gaze just seconds before he settled his lips lightly on hers.

The kiss was not demanding. It was soft and curious, tasting. He trailed his mouth over hers, lips gliding smoothly, exerting the slightest pressure. They were hot against hers though, and the silky feel of them made her fingers tighten in his hair. He let out a small hum of satisfaction and then pressed his tongue to her lips.

She sighed her mouth open and was quickly drunk on the taste of him. He was all spice and warmth; he tasted like comfort. Her stomach was full of butterflies that danced low in her belly, and she delighted in the way he moved  his hand to grip the back of her neck and pressed her closer to him, groaning into her mouth and causing her core muscles to clench tightly. 

Beyond her physical response to the way he kissed her though and beyond her pounding excitement for more, her heart was telling her this was where she belonged; in this man’s arms, with no air between them.

When Beau finally pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers, and chuckled softly. “God, I’ve been dreaming of doing that for months - since I first saw you on the other side of that counter." He grinned. "All frazzled and annoyed, cursing under your breath.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she pulled away to look at him. “What do you mean? I’ve been wanting you to kiss me since you smiled at me across that same counter.” She shook her head. “You weren’t interested.”

Beau snorted. “Are you kidding me? You haven’t noticed how I’ve been following you around like a puppy dog? You haven’t seen the way I’ve had to stop myself so many times from pushing you up against something hard and kissing you senseless? I thought you knew and simply weren't interested."

Pleasant images of being manhandled by Beau popped into Y/N's mind and she had to take a moment before she could shake her head at their stupidity, a grin wreathing her face. “And I thought you knew I was drooling over you constantly. I thought I was pretty obvious.”

Beau shook his head, clearly just as amazed. “I had no idea.”

His million dollar smile shone brightly and he sipped at her lips again. He spoke softly against them.

"So, has your day gotten any better?"

Y/N breathed out a laugh and ran her palms over his cheeks, loving the satiny feel of his beard beneath her fingers.

"A little bit." She answered with a teasing smile. "I have just one or two more problems you could help me with though."

"Really? Like what, darlin'?" Beau asked, his voice deep and delicious.

She bit her lip, and let her forefinger slide across his mouth. 

"I'll tell you all about them tomorrow, when you come to my bedroom…to, you know, fix my window."

Beau chuckled a little dirty. "Well, I do love to be helpful."

"Then help a girl out would ya?" Y/N said, pulling his soft yielding lips back to hers with a smile.

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

[charlastorfrenchlove]

Extrait chapitre 1 M'as-tu piégés Princesse? " Badum"

“BADUUUM BADUUUUUUUM “ It has been some time since Alastor noticed the abnormal movements occurring in his chest and this phenomenon only occurs when he is in the presence of a certain princess of Hell. Without him being able to understand how the young blonde went about provoking such a physical reaction. He would have noticed if Lucifer's daughter had used any spell on him, after all he knew enough about magic and demonic power to see if anyone was trying to harm him. But he never detected anything in the blonde and he didn't want to go see a doctor because the supreme lord knew very well that he was not suffering so what was the point. The strange symptoms have finally stopped to the happiness of the latter, he will be able to concentrate on something else. So he walks with both hands behind his back while humming a little tune, very happy that his strange symptoms have calmed down in the corridor, he meets the princess's companion walking with an angry step. The red demon wonders what could have provoked the anger of the former exorcist. -So dear, I was able to hear you from the other end of the hotel, what is putting you in such a state? *he asks in a mocking tone*

The person concerned gives a look full of disdain for the red, wondering what is wrong with her for it to come to meddle in her life. Then the last news he didn't really care about her well-being so why would he do it suddenly, Vaggie clicks her tongue against her roof of the mouth and throws her long hair back. -Anything that concerns you, shouldn't you do your job as a manager instead of hanging around like an acorn? *she asks aggressively* -What I was about to do but your aggressive steps distracted me from my main objective *replies the demon just as dryly* A slight growl escaped Vaggie's lips, greatly annoyed that this demon of misfortune had the answer to everything and with ease too. Although he was right, that doesn't mean she was going to confide in him, that's all that was missing. Therefore, it was better for her to put an end to this discussion which will lead to nothing anyway. She walks in front of him to make it clear to him that she didn't want to continue cutting the piece of fat with him. For her, this man, finally this demon, was like a threat to the well-being of her princess's hotel and to the princess herself. -Maybe but it's not my problem if you let yourself be distracted so easily, it's not my problem * declares the former exorcist *

Then she continues on her way as if nothing had happened, Alastor does not try to keep her any longer because he knew perfectly well that it would be useless. He just sighs while thinking that the princess's companion later could prove to be a real problem for his plans. Quite simply because she is far too suspicious and refuses to open up to him as her charming companion did so well. His shadow therefore materializes on the wall with a mocking smile, for the moment Alastor seems willing to ignore it. Until the latter spoke, because the latter does not seem to appreciate being ignored like this by her master. Yes, these things have a certain ego “-I could make it disappear quickly and without any problem, all I need is a word from you” *Throws the infernal creature* -And thus place suspicion on my person? Great god no thank you, everything in its time my friend you may have been able to read my mind but you should have understood that it was still too early to try anything on this poor, highly unpleasant creature * replies the big deer * The shadow seems a little skeptical but decides not to contradict its master too much and then disappears. Alastor seems relieved that the creature is quite docile. He didn't want the conversation to be heard by a few clumsy ears. It would still be unfortunate to silence these sources of distraction

because he lacked vigilance it would be a real shame. And yet he didn't even take into account the presence of the king of hell in the hotel, even if he doesn't scare him he knows very well that he will never be a match for him. He arrives at the door of his radio tower, however he discovers the princess standing with her back to him in front of the door. Charlie made funny gestures with his arms at his face, he said nothing then the last one turned around to face him, her eyes bathed in tears. At this vision the big deer suddenly stops  “BADUUUM BADUUUUUUUM “

[in1-nutshell]

Bot Buddy the Maximal and meeting Drift

SFW, platonic, familial, slight angst, Cybertronian/ Bot Reader

This writing will be using the Buddy Template of Otter Buddy, aka Bot Buddy that’s Cheetor’s twin.

Refer to Bot Buddy who's Cheetor's twin if you don't know already.

Story time.

Buddy is out on their first solo patrol in a while. It had been calm these past few days and the Maximals wanted to cover more space during patrols. There was no telling if the Predacons were planning something.

Cheetor was already out the doors when Primal said the word. Buddy just sighs and gets to their assigned place near the riverbeds. They are just watching some of the vegetation and occasionally talking with Rhinox through the comms. Every now and then they would try and get in contact with Cheetor.

“Cheetor. What’s your statis?”--Buddy

“Sheesh! You don’t need to do that with me you know. Save the formalities with Optimus or Dinobot.”--Cheetor

“So then what are you doing?”--Buddy

“Doing my job--oh a bird!”--Cheetor

“Remind me again how are we related again?”—Buddy

Budy now entered the water, figuring that they could cover more through the river and cool off a bit from the afternoon heat. The current of the river suddenly got stronger and started slowly pulling them under. Buddy is trying to get out of this newfound current the best they can and trying to see if something caused it. They knew these rivers and never had the current been this strong.

Buddy quickly comms Rhinox about the situation. Rhinox is trying to coach them the best he can telling them to stay calm and to find something to grab. Then he hears Buddy struggling and bobbing in the water.

“Buddy stay on the comms. I’m sending the others to your location.”—Rhinox

“Hurry Rhinox! Things aren’t looking too good over here!”—Buddy

Rhinox began calling in anyone in the area to go check out Buddy as quickly as they could. Cheetor says that he can get there fast but the closest one to Buddy’s location was Rattrap.

“Don’t worry kid! I’m sure it’s not that bad.”—Rattrap

It turns out it was indeed bad.

He manages to get to the river and sees the problem. Some glowing thing at the river’s bed was creating a whirlpool dragging anything that wasn’t pinned down. Poor Buddy was holding on to dear life on some nearby rocks near the whirlpool. He quickly ruled out going into the water by himself, he was going to need back up. Rattrap quickly comms in for anymore back up and he was engaging the problem.

“Rattrap to anyone near our location! It’s some sort of portal thing and it’s trying to drag Buddy in it!”--Rattrap

“What?!”—Rhinox/ Cheetor

“Dinobot to Rattrap, I am closing in on your location.”--Dinobot

“This is Cheetor, I’m coming in as fast as I can!”—Cheetor

Dinobot arrives not a minute later. Rattrap transformed into his biped mode and grabbed the end of Dinobots’ tail as he dug his feet into the ground.

Buddy now was exhausted from trying to keep afloat, but they try their best to stay on the rocks and reach out for Rattraps servo. Rattrap notices Buddy getting tired and tries talking to Buddy.

“C’mon Buddy I’m right here. Talk to me Buddy. Just reach your servo out a little bit more.”--Rattrap

“I’m trying Rattrap. I don’t exactly want to get suck in by whatever that thing is.”—Buddy

Cheetor arrives and wants to jump in, but thanks to Dinobot he doesn���t. He trades places with Dinobot as he quickly transforms into his biped mode to try and further get Rattrap and Buddy out of the water. Cheetor has an iron grip on Dinobot’s arm, laser focused on trying to ground everyone. He starts shouting to Buddy to grab Rattrap.

“Buddy grab Rattrap!”--Cheetor

“I’m tired Cheetor.”--Buddy

“Don’t give up now! We are almost there just hold on a little bit longer!”—Cheetor

Rattrap was inches away from Buddy’s tired servo when the portal starts moving upwards from the riverbed. The current above moved faster and had goten stronger. Dinobot nearly lost his grip on Rattrap, struggling to keep his servo in his and not let the current break the chain. The current, sadly, was so strong it sucked in Buddy without another tug. Cheetor screamed as the portal closed leaving the river calm as it was before. He manages to yank Dinobot and Rattrap to shore and jumps in himself trying to swim around the area where Buddy was.

“BUDDY! Buddy! Buddy where are you?!?!”—Cheetor

Which was trippy for him since he couldn’t swim too well. Rattrap did end up saving Cheetor’s behind. Both him and Dinobot try scolding him about jumping in so quickly, but it fell to deaf ears. Primal descended from the sky and asked what happened seeing Cheetor’s devastated face.

“They’re gone Bossbot… they’re gone…”—Cheetor

Meanwhile on the Lost Light.

Brainstorm had been in the middle of demonstrating his latest dimension hoping device to Team Rodimus. Drift was internally facepalming himself as the monologue went on. Ratchet had no problem doing it publicly. Drift normally wouldn’t mind the science droning so much, but it had been a couple of boring days. Not that he wasn’t grateful for the leisure days, he was grateful for the lack of fights around. If only Ratchet would finally decide to take a break with him... but that didn’t matter right now. Brainstorm started up the machine the room filling with soft hums of the engine… right before it started spewing water.

“Is this normal?!”--Drift

“Nope!”—Brainstorm

 Everyone tried stopping the water, meanwhile Brainstorm, Perceptor and Nautica were trying to stop the machine. Drift was trying to move some important looking tools out of the way before the machine started sputtering. Before anyone could comment on it something brown spewed out and landed straight into Drift’s chassis knocking him down onto the wet floor.

“GAH! What’s on me?!”—Drift

“Calm down it isn’t moving or biting you. Look at it its probably dead.”—Ratchet

“You don’t know that!”--Drift

Thank goodness Drift let Ratchet convince him to leave some of his swords for the presentation if not the poor thing most likely would have been spliced. Drift gently picked it up. It looked a lot like some animal he once saw on Earth, it was limp in his servos. Everyone started crowding around. Ratchet managed to stop the crowding a bit before he and Brainstorm started inspecting the thing. Buddy’s optics weakly came online and saw a room full of unfamiliar Cybertronians. Bigger and stronger looking Cybertronians.

“GAH!”--Buddy

“GAH!”--Drift

“GAH!! What in the Allspark!”—Buddy

 Buddy is a little smaller than the minibots. Everyone was in shock and baffled. The thing was Cybertronian with an organic altmode. Now while it wasn’t unheard of, it was still surprising to the few members of the crew that didn’t have much time with organics.

“Oh Primus I’m dead aren’t I? Is this the Allspark? Never thought it’d be so… ship like?”—Buddy

“You ain’t dead kid.”—Ratchet

“Are you sure?”--Buddy

“I can change that if you want.”--Ratchet

“… You know what I’ll take your word for it.”--Buddy

“Welcome other dimensional being! Welcome to the Lost Light!”--Brainstorm

“…What?”—Buddy

Buddy’s optics go wide remembering what had happened. They try to get up but start falling. They try steading themselves on Drift pede.

“I… the others…my—"—Buddy

They pass out of exhaustion and stress before any coherent sentence is made. Drift scooped them out as Ratchet moved some bots out of the way so they could bring the newcomer to the medbay.

After Buddy wakes up after a fistful nap, Drift is by their side and gently explains what’s going on.

“So, what you’re saying is that the bot who was welcoming me on board is the same guy who brought me here? And that this is another dimension right after the Great Autobot and Decepticon War and this ship is just flying through space trying to find some mythical Knights?”--Buddy

“Yeah, that about sums everything up.”--Drift

“This is so weird.”—Buddy

“But its weird to me that you and a bunch of bots are from the future trying to stop events from happening in the past, so that time doesn’t collapse in on itself. And on top of that, you have an Optimus and a Megatron named after our Optimus and Megatron.”—Drift

“… Okay so both of our dimensions are weird.”--Buddy

“That seems about right. Oh, I almost forgot, Megatron is at Swerve’s right now with Rodimus and Magnus. They want to meet you.”--Drift

“…You want to run by me that last sentence one more time.”--Buddy

“Oh yes Megatron is an Autobot now.”--Drift

“!!!???”--Buddy

Buddy stays by Drift side for the entire walk. He does his best to answer Buddy’s questions.

“Was the medic that was looking over me really The Ratchet?”--Buddy

“Yes, that was Ratchet.”--Drift

“Have you ever been to Earth?”--Buddy

“Yes, yes I have on a few times in the past.”--Drift

“Does your Megatron have an obsession on saying ‘Yes’?”--Buddy

“No… not that I know of?”--Drift

“That’s good for you then. You haven’t suffered that.”--Buddy

Personal headcanon Cheetor’s ancestor was Rodimus/Hot Rod.

Imagine Buddy’s absolute surprise and delight seeing Rodimus hanging out at the bar. Rodimus spots the newcomer with Drift and goes to introduce himself. He was not entirely prepared for the newcomer to lowkey geek out.

“Hello there Captain, are you really Rodimus Prime?”--Buddy

“Yeah, I am and you must be Buddy from another dimension.”--Rodimus

“Sorry--but sweet Primus-- I would have never thought I’d meet you. Not in the living at least.”--Buddy

“What?”--Rodimus

“In my dimension you are my ancestor. Its truly an honor to meet you and to be just here with you--oh that probably sounded weird-- Are you okay?”--Buddy

“I’m fine.”—Rodimus, was currently trying to hold back happy tears and hugging Buddy because finally he has someone who apprentices him and his work!

Congratulations Buddy, Rodimus’s ego and pride have increased by a 10-fold. Rodimus is taking them under his metaphoric wing.

“As my descendant you must be great at Meteor Surfing.”--Rodimus

“I was for a bit but, it was outlawed in the sectors we lived in. so we couldn’t really surf much back home.”--Buddy

“… Magnus! Clear my schedule! Buddy and I are going out!”—Rodimus

Buddy had a good time with Rodimus Meteor Surfing, but they honestly wanted to go back and talk to Drift again. Drift had made it clear to Buddy that he was there to help and be Buddy’s friend for the time they were going to be in this dimension.

“Drift we’re back!”--Buddy

“Oh how was it with you and Rodimus?”--Drift

“Fun and all how have you been?”--Buddy

“I’ve been cleaning some of my blades.”--Drift

“Can you show me more about your blades?”—Buddy

Soon after a week the machine is ready. Buddy said goodbye to everyone.

“Good-Bye Drift! Good-Bye Rodimus! Goodbye everyone! Thank you for everything!”—Buddy

 Once Buddy has left Drift goes back to his habsuite. He finds a present on the recharge slab, it was a picture of Buddy and Drift at Swerve’s having a mirroring smile on each other’s faces.

Drift smiled softly and placed the photo in one of his subspaces, near and close to his spark, right where it belonged.

Meanwhile with the Maximals

They had stormed the Predacon base earlier in Buddy’s disappearance thinking it was them who had taken Buddy hostage. They, however, soon enough that it wasn’t the Predacon’s doings for once. After some research on the portal’s residue, it turned out it was an outside force that made the portal. But they didn’t have any way of finding it or knowing if Buddy was even online. Enough time had passed, Buddy was confirmed to have been killed in action.

The mood in the ship was heavy.

Primal was doing his best to navigate his team through the tough time. It was never easy to lose someone close to you. Was discussing with the team to finally put Buddy to rest after the time had passed.

Rhinox was sad and upset that Buddy was gone. He feels like he could have gone to the river himself. He was helping Optimus with the preparations for Buddy’s funeral.

Tigatron and Airazor got the news a bit later as they were far away on their patrol routes. Both clinging on to each other for comfort.

Silverbolt and Blackarachnia found out when they got back to the base that day. Both of their comms being broken after an incident with a rocky ledge. Silverbolt was more openly sad about Buddy than Blackarachnia, but she was sometimes seen looking for Buddy in the places they would usually be.

Rattrap and Dinobot are both blaming themselves for not trying harder. Dinobot and Rattrap both find consolation in each other in a way, mainly remembering good times they had with Buddy. Dinobot secretly is making a spark warming speech for Buddy’s funeral. Rattrap tries to keep an eye out for his fellow crewmates, especially Cheetor.

Cheetor was in denial for the first day that Buddy was gone. He was so sure they weren’t gone. Near inconsolable after reality hit him. He was often seen in Buddy’s habsuite crying and talking to them.

The day of the funeral comes around and it’s just them going back to the river and saying their goodbyes.

But fast forward three hours earlier.

Buddy was spat back into the river and crawled back to the shoreline. They are happy that they are home again.

Buddy sees a lovely hidden area and decides a little nap wouldn’t hurt. Who knew dimension travel would be so tiring?

Fast forward to the present time.

Now they are awake and hear the voices of their team. At first Buddy thinks they are imagining the voices. Cautious of it possibly being a Predacon trick. They get up from their hiding place and sneak behind the rocks to see what was going on.

All the team was by the river… for their funeral?!

They weren’t dead!

Quietly they walk over to hear more.

The funeral was wrapping up with Cheetor telling them about his favorite times with them and that he would miss them so much.

“Guess what I’m trying to say is… I’ll miss you Buddy and I love you.”—Cheetor

Buddy was in tears, and accidentally broke the precious moment.

They squeak.

Everyone turns around, some drawing out their weapons. They freeze seeing a very much alive Buddy.

Dinobot sneers at Buddy, telling the others it a Predacon trick for sure. Rattrap demands Buddy tell them something only Buddy would know.

“If you’re really Buddy… then where did Cheetor go patrolling a four weeks ago.”--Rattrap

“You mean where I was patrolling, Cheetor skipped to go race with the other cheetahs and begged me to cover his shift--oops.”--Buddy

Cheetor dropped his blaster and floors Buddy to the ground and starts crying happy tears and holding them tight. Buddy gladly hugs him back just as hard.

Buddy wants to tell everyone of their wild journey across dimensions, but they decide to tell after they are done being beaten to death with hugs and playful scolds.

“Don’t you ever do something like that again!”--Cheetor

“Not planning on it. Oh! I met Rodimus Prime!”--Buddy

“You met who!”--Cheetor

[shxtodxroki]

𝟸00 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝙴𝚖𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚊𝚠𝚔𝚜

Summary: A look into some of the most embarrassing moments throughout your relationship with your boyfriend Keigo. 

Warnings: Swearing, there’s mentions of Hawks basically carrying the reader/giving them a piggyback ride of sorts?

Pairing: Hawks (Keigo Takami) x Gender Neutral! Reader

Word Count: 1k

These headcanons are part of my 200 Followers “Ice Cream Parlor” event which is still open for requests, so please feel free to read the event rules here and send in your own event headcanon request! :)

- Literally from the moment your relationship started Keigo was a mess, he’s been the cause of most of these embarrassing moments lol (though you definitely have your moments as well)

- Yours always seem to be worse when you do embarrass yourself/the two of you in your relationship, though, but more on that later hehe :>

- Once he had managed to ask you out, Keigo insisted on doing all of the planning for your first date. He wanted it to be a surprise so he didn’t want to tell you anything in advance, he just told you he’d text you on the day of letting you know when and where to meet him, and to trust him to plan the most amazing date you had ever been on

- Except he forgot to message you when the day of the date arrived, and then he also failed to realize that he hadn’t messaged you with any of the details like when or where to meet

- So when he showed up to the date he had planned and you weren’t there, he waited about 20 minutes before you received a flurry of texts asking where you were and if you no longer wanted to go on a date with him anymore 

- The poor man was worried, he was so confused on why you’d just bail on him without even having the courtesy to tell him that you were no longer interested :(

- You were, of course, also incredibly confused at first, since he had never told you about any date plans (and to be honest, you had started to get nervous that he no longer wanted to go out with you)

- But eventually you were able to figure out what had gone wrong, and explained to him that he had never shared his plans with you in the first place lol

- You’re so lucky this man feels very little shame, because had he been anyone else he might just have been too embarrassed to reschedule your date. Luckily, Keigo only felt a little embarrassed, and was able to move on swiftly when you two re-did your first date

- (He picked you up in his car this time, just to be sure he didn’t make the same mistake again, and you still tease him occasionally for forgetting to tell you about your own first date)

- He also occasionally finds himself running slightly late to dinner reservations when you guys make plans because of his hero work, but that’s not the embarrassing part. He always communicates with you that he’s going to be a few minutes late and that he didn’t forget and is on his way, so you have no problem waiting a few minutes for him

- The problem is that he’s usually in a rush when he gets home to quickly change out of his hero costume and into his dinner attire in order to not keep you waiting, and that leads him to sometimes enter the restaurant with some… interesting attire choices

- He frequently runs in with his tie on backwards or his fly down or his shoes untied, which also sometimes leads to him tripping over his own feet as the poor hostess leads him to your table and you watch your disaster of a boyfriend from said table in both mortification and endearment

- You definitely get a lot of stares from your fellow restaurant patrons in these moments, civilians beyond surprised to see their #2 hero so unkempt and wild. But Keigo pays their stares no mind so with time and experience, you've learned to just ignore them and try to focus on and enjoy your date instead of the heat you feel creeping up your neck from the slight embarrassment you feel at his antics lol

- But Keigo’s not always the embarrassing one in your relationship, you’ve definitely had your moments of shame too (as mentioned earlier)

- Like the time the two of you decided to play a silly little game at his agency :) He and his work study student Tokoyami had been bored out of their minds as work was slow that day, and they had asked you to join them to participate in a blindfolded race, one of your boyfriend’s stupidest ideas yet

- He and Tokoyami would be flying blindfolded through an abandoned old neighborhood, with you on Keigo’s back to direct him and Tokoyami’s friend Shoji on his as his guide, and the two teams would race to a specific bright yellow house at the end of the abandoned block. Whoever could make it there first and avoid any obstacles while blindfolded would treat the other team to dinner, an offer that sounded too good to pass up

- Despite the original idea being your boyfriend’s, though, (and it was pretty dumb from the get-go, which you reminded him of whenever he brought up this incident), you were the one to fuck up and cost your team the win in the end

- Both of you were doing pretty well at first, threatening to guide your defenseless blindfolded boyfriend into walls though you navigated perfectly around the obstacles in your way

- But then you got just a little bit too carried away with your teasing, taking your eyes off of the path in front of you without even thinking about it a

- You just meant to glance down at his dramatic, frightened face as you teased him about how you could run him straight into a street lamp, only a moment of distraction in your otherwise flawless navigation through the neighborhood

- But your body shifted to one side as you leaned over to get a good look at him, causing him to shift directions as he angled his body to match yours, and this coupled with your lack of attention on the obstacles in front of you meant that soon you were both actually running face-first into a telephone pole

- To make matters worse, Shoji and Tokoyami had been right beside the two of you when that incident had happened, so your bodies and egos were left bruised as two high-school kids laughed so hard at your antics that they fell out of the air themselves ._. 

- They still won the race though, as Keigo was incredibly dramatic after the loss and insistent that he would never trust you to be his guide again after your “terrible failure” that evening

- He also used that incident to argue that he was just in so much pain from the fall once you two made it back home that evening, repeatedly asking for kisses to “make him feel better”. 

- Needless to say, Tokoyami never let you live that moment down, and between your boyfriend’s constant teasing and reminders of that moment and your fellow heroes and the UA students somehow all finding out and teasing you as well, your rare embarrassing moment in your relationship becomes a core memory for the both of you and a staple moment in your relationship

Request - @snowwieprincess said: your ice cream parlor event sounds so fun! may i request a cookie and cream ice cream with gummy bears topping? thank you so much! oh and congrats for the near 200 followers! I hope you hit 200 followers very soon!!

A/N: I know I just posted another Keigo piece earlier today lol, I swear that wasn’t on purpose! I just happened to finish up both requests at around the same time, and funny enough I have 2 more pieces of writing involving him that should be releasing sometime soon as well so the Keigo simps who follow me are being WELL fed lol. I’m having a lot of fun with these headcanons, though, they’re really cute and I’ve wanted to write these silly tropes for a while now so I’m happy to finally have the opportunity to do so! My requests are open right now, so feel free to send one in if you have any!! :D

Taglist: @applepie-macaroon

If you’d like to be added to any of my taglists, you can fill out this form here! Thank you for your support <3

[mayiwritesomething]

Love Is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 4)

Wordcount: 3,4k

A/N: What do you do when the line begins to blur? A bit longer chapter that got quite a cheesy 80s vibe (sorry haha), as the reader finally stops holding her back 🥹

Warnings: a very brief teasing moment but no big deal.

PART THREE

————

…That is Jupiter

After five months of nonstop work, the sound department finally received a much-needed week-long break. Considering your team has been working even during periods without shooting, everything was running smoothly. With the change in location, your strategic planning, and most of all: teamwork, you were all able to take a well-deserved rest. Timmy had joined the set this month to provide assistance, adding to the familiar faces of Jenny and your as you call; new best friend, Pedro. You were pleased to see that Tim and Pedro got along.

Excitement bubbled within you for the upcoming weekend. With Timmy staying over, Amy planned to visit while her mother looked after the kids. Maria couldn't make it, as she was in Paris, living her second love story over the past five months. Despite her absence, you were not mad at her, as this time, you genuinely believed things would work out, especially since her new girlfriend seemed like a good person.

There was one person more excited than you—Jenny, the queen of event organization. In addition to assisting you, she had managed to arrange a Saturday night out, discovering a small pub in a neighboring city hosting an '80s/New Wave night. Jenny ensured that the entire group would attend, including Pedro, who then persuaded May and Lauren to join. What started as a casual night out for four people quickly escalated into an event that overwhelmed you, causing you to abandon checking the group chat upon seeing over ten people confirming their attendance at Jenny's Mad Night.

"Jenny, what the fuck?" You exclaimed, slightly irritated. "I thought we were going for a low-key night out, not this big event shit. Come on, I'm too old for this; I just want... you know... Sit down, sing, drink a little bit, and relax." You sank back into the sofa.

"Come oooon, the 30s are the new 20s," Jenny retorted, still typing away. You noticed she had mentioned you in the group chat and posted a picture of you lounging on the sofa like melted ice cream, with the caption, "Night at the retirement house."

"Stop being so grumpy! Even Pedro, who always finds an excuse to skip our outings, confirmed he is going," she paused, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. "Quite coincidentally, right after I mentioned that you were going too."

Rolling your eyes, you heard the group chat notification sound. Jenny giggled in anticipation. "There she goes," you muttered. Another message popped up, this time from Pedro: “Sounds great, may I join in?”. You blushed and responded with the sleepy emoji.

"Poor guy," Jenny mused to herself before turning back to you. "Why did you do that? Sending a sleepy emoji? You just left the poor guy hanging in a group chat with like ten people."

Another message from Pedro appeared—a broken heart emoji. Panicking, you attempted to explain to Jenny, "No! I meant the sleepy emoji, like I was actually sleeping. You said it was a retirement house, so I thought... 

Another notification chimed, this time from Jenny: "Pedro, there's always space for you. We can kick her out, you're much nicer."

 

One more notification, a private message from Timmy: "Are you kidding me?"

Amy's message then appeared: "What's your problem?”

Suddenly, a message popped up in your girls' group chat. Jenny had sent a screenshot of your response to Pedro, captioned "no mercy for the wicked." Maria's reaction was a simple "OMG," while Amy expressed confusion with an "I wish I could understand."

Feeling foolish, you decided to send him a private message. "Hey, you don't have to ask to join, as my friend, you can always drop by," you wrote. His response was a simple, "Ok, buddy, got it." 

Part of you struggled with the realization that the line of your friendship was starting to blur, and you were hesitant to accept it, fearing it could ruin the amazing relationship you shared. Yet, another part of you felt that shit already went down, and you actually wanted him to be by your side on the same sofa where you now lay. After checking your phone repeatedly, there were no notifications. Five minutes passed with still no word.

"Shit!" you cursed as Jenny retreated to her room, leaving you alone.

 

-

As Saturday night approached, you hadn't seen Pedro yet, but Lauren informed you that he and the girls would meet you at the pub, as you all needed to arrive early to secure the reservations. "He won't go," you thought to yourself. "He's too stubborn not to," you added. Either way, what are you going to do about it? 

Sending a blurry road picture to the group chat with the message "On our way," you actually intended it for Pedro alone, as you both shared a habit of exchanging random daily situation pictures.

“Still waiting for Princess May.” Lauren said.

“We’ll be leaving in 30 minutes.“ Jeff, one of your crew members, sent.

However, there was still no sign of Pedro.

 

You were feeling yourself this night, wearing a black long-sleeve short dress paired with fancy combat boots and a windbreaker. Your hair was left loose, you wanted to feel comfortable singing along to all the Tears for Fears and Depeche Mode songs that would be played. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the fucking sleepy emoji.

Upon arriving at the pub, you, Jenny, and Amy raised your glasses in a toast to your friendship, Maria’s new lover and Amy's rare day off from the chaos of motherhood. Jenny, the beer nerd, was deep in her hops, while Amy preferred the smoothness of gin. Despite not being a regular drinker, you opted for an old-fashioned that you knew wouldn't last long in your hand. Minutes later, the rest of your crew arrived, but Pedro and the girls were still nowhere to be seen, fueling the anxiety coursing through your veins. However, the mood shifted as the cover band kicked off their set with Alice Cooper.

 

Jenny had chosen the perfect spot, where you could blend in without drawing attention. On the other hand, Timmy was stopped twice by fans, but he handled it with ease. The music ignited something within you—a primal urge to scream along with the chorus, the whiskey fueling your veins as you felt Alice was talking to you through the lyrics. Amy joined in, screaming with you:

 

“I wanna love you but I better not touch (don't touch)

I wanna to hold you, but my senses tell me to stop

I wanna to kiss you but I want it too much (too much)

I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison “

 

You were headbanging to the music, caught up in the moment, and instinctively hugged Jenny as she joined in.

"I should hug you more often, Jen," you felt the need to say.

"Are you okay?" She asked with a laugh. "You've had like two drinks and turned into a lovey-dovey girl... What's going on?" sensing your disappointment.

"Physically, I'm feeling great. Emotionally... well... it hurts, Jen," you admitted, drawing closer as she struggled to suppress her laugh, knowing you were being sincere. The alcohol had a way of making you more vulnerable. "I can feel he won't show up."

"If he doesn't come, that's his loss. Tonight is about us," she reassured you, pulling you into a comforting hug. "May said they were coming," she observed, studying your expression. "You know, you don't always have to keep up this icy facade. It's okay to show your true feelings. It's better than self-sabotaging. If he does show up, talk to him."

"He ignored me, Jen," you confessed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"Let's not forget who dumped him in a group chat," she reminded you.

"I didn't mean it that way. I texted him, and he just brushed everything off with an 'huh okay, got it buddy,'" you imitated him. 

"Then talk to him. It's not like you'll lose a limb or something. It could be good for both of you," Jenny suggested.

"You don't know how it feels, Jen," you said, now looking at your hands and gesturing. "One part of me wants to express my feelings, even if I can't understand them, and see where it leads. The other part doesn't want to risk losing what little I have now as being his friend" Tears welled up in your eyes. "It hurts too much, you know, the thought of losing it," you concluded as you took a sip of the remaining whiskey, now watered down with melted ice. "Gosh, I'm so stupid," you chuckled, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

"You're just scared. We do silly things when we're terrified," Jenny reassured you, pulling you into another hug, her only desire to see you at peace.

Pedro and the girls arrived a few minutes after your heart-to-heart with Jenny. May seemed to need this night out as much as you did, and she wasted no time joining your group. Pedro, on the other hand, greeted everyone, including you, before heading over to the table with your crewmates.

As the night progressed, you and your friends belted out the lyrics to new wave classics, losing yourselves in the music. Determined to be responsible for your actions, you decided to go without any more drinks and opted for regular Coke to boost the sugar in your blood. Jenny's words about it being ”Girls night" echoed in your mind. 

However, you couldn't resist peeking over at the table from time to time. It seemed like Pedro was having a great time without you, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment. Deciding to take one last look, you noticed "Blue Monday" playing in the background. The universe has a twisted sense of humor.

 

“How does it feel, to treat me like you do?”

 

To your surprise, he was also glancing in your direction. You raised your glass, offering a smile, but his response was a cold raise of his own glass. So fucking stupid.

“Are you happy now?” Amy teased, breaking the tension.

“Well, kind of,” you replied, chuckling as you turned back to your friends.

“Hey! Look, now's your chance,�� Jenny urged you on as if she were coaching you for a competition.

“What for?” You were puzzled.

“He just went outside, stupid! Probably for a smoke. Go after him!” Jenny insisted. “I just saw it! Go.” She was more observant than you.

“I don’t want to smoke, didn't even bring anything.” You hesitated, feeling nervous.

“That's not a problem,” Jenny assured you, effortlessly securing a cigarette from a nearby guy. "Now, go!" She handed you the cigarette, taking on the role of a matchmaker. You felt like a teenager.

Despite your initial hesitance, you summoned a false sense of confidence and left the circle of girls to follow him outside. In that moment, you momentarily forgot about his public persona as you sought him out in a quiet corner, where he stood gazing up at the sky. Approaching him slowly, you finally stood by his side and nervously asked, "Got fire?" 

At first, he appeared annoyed, but as he recognized you, a wide smile lit up his face. "Here you go," he offered you the lighter.

"Oh, I don't need it," you declined, gesturing with your hand. "I just wanted an excuse to talk to you, silly," you admitted, mustering up the most confident expression you could manage.

"As my friend, you can always come by," he replied with a chuckle, returning his gaze to the sky. You felt the ironic tone. "The sky here is out of this world,” he said. “You can see every single star."

"And some planets too," you added. "I can see Mars," you said, focused on the night sky. "Jupiter... and Venus, I believe."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "Can you show me?" One thing you admired about him was his curiosity for learning from others, a trait you initially misjudged as mere flattery. But over time, you came to realize his genuine interest in people.

"Yes!" Your excitement was visible, as the night sky was your passion. “Excuse me,” you said, moving quite closer and extending your arm by his side. "Look,” you pointed. “Just follow my finger. Do you see that one of those stars seems to be red? That’s Mars, near Sagittarius. And that bright light is Venus," you explained, his attention fixed on you. "Jupiter is a bit trickier, but see that spot right after the moon?" Turning to face him, you noticed his mesmerized expression at you. "Well… uhm… That... that is Jupiter," you concluded, your eyes turning back to the sky.

"Wow," he said, genuinely impressed. "You're like a fucking walking encyclopedia. Is there anything you don't know?"

"Aparently, to make you understand me," you whispered, looking down. "I know I can be messy and mix things up. I understand if you want to... or if you don't..." Your words seemed to falter, as if you had forgotten how to speak coherently.

"No, I'm sorry if I... I mean... that..." he struggled to find the right words, mirroring your own confusion. In your mind, you feared he was trying to gently dump you.

Taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts, you finally spoke. "I like... you know… being your friend. I don't want to ruin it,". Finally, a confession.

"I guess we already have," he replied, looking deeply into your eyes. With a shy smile and a lingering gaze, he added, "I mean... ruin it… It's been a while already." What the hell?

So at this very moment, your heart raced so rapidly that you could feel your face flush. Little did you know, he was experiencing the same feeling, as both of you remained locked in a silent, intense gaze. The desire between you was palpable, yet mingled with apprehension—were you risking it all?

Your body rebelled against your mind's caution, yielding to impulsive impulses. Taking a step forward, you found him still fixed on you, his gaze flickering to your lips briefly, yet he made no move. "Fuck it," you cursed internally as your hand gently landed on his shoulder, met once again with no response.

"Forget it," you murmured, getting closer and closing your eyes as your lips brushed his tenderly. Upon opening your eyes, you saw his were still shut. Sensing his gentle hand on your back, bringing you closer, you felt a smile grace his face. "Forget it," he echoed, cupping your neck and leaning in to reciprocate the kiss. This time, his embrace tightened, and you instinctively wound your arms around his neck, surrendering to the sensations—the touches, the gazes, the escalating intensity of the kiss. Starting leisurely, it soon ignited into a fervent exchange, each moment feeling both like the first and the last, punctuated by shared gasps for air and tender interludes between fervid kisses.

In that transcendent moment, you both lost yourselves in each other, oblivious to your surroundings and the passage of time. What ensued felt far more enduring and profound than a mere shared smoke break.

“Is this a dream?” He said, giggling between kisses, “You have no idea how long I’m expecting this,” his hands playing around your back.

"Pedro, you don’t have to play this ‘I always had a crush on you’ role,” you said, trying to maintain sanity. “I don’t believe a word.” You pretended to be mad, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

"Oh, I forgot you're the cold one,” he said as his hands went a little further down your back, giving you goosebumps. “You almost got me gaving up you know. Lucky for me, I didn’t…” You could feel his heat on your core.

“And I forgot you are aaalways the charmer.” You moved your hips into him, teasing back as he kissed you again.

Lost in the moment, a sparkle of apprehension appeared. “Pedro!” you stopped.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

“Let’s keep this between us, right?” You asked aprehensively, “At least for now.”

“As you wish,” he was in ecstasy by the situation, so you were sure he didn’t understand a word.

"Pedro,” you said, stepping back. “I’m real! Just imagine if people find this out while we're still filming; I’ll be the one they'll talk about—It took me a while to be taken seriously, and I don’t wanna mess this up.” 

"Babe,” he said, dragging you back to him. “Why do you rationalize everything?” He kissed your neck as you were melting in his arms. “Could you just enjoy the moment?” You could feel his smile as he whispered to your ear, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

You turned to face him again. “I don’t rationalize. I just…” You couldn't resist the puppy eyes waiting for your answer, so you kissed him back again, but this time you heard your name. Amy. Fuck.

"Oh my fucking god, Timmy!" she exclaimed, as she and Timmy were frozen in place.

"I told you, baby! I knew it!" Tim seemed as if he had just won the lottery.

"Guys, look..." you began, trying to explain as you adjusted your hair. "This is not what you're thinking. We were just… talking, that's all."

"Babe, they are not blind," Pedro said, looking a bit dazed as his hands rested on your waist. Sensing his touch, you took a step back, away from him. He chuckled.

"Did he just call you babe? No way." Amy was still processing the situation. Tim laughed at your sudden movement.

"We definitely are not blind, and no one takes a 40-minute cigar break kiddo... and I see no cigarettes here," Timmy remarked, taking a sip of his beer.

"40 minutes?" You were taken aback. You glanced at Pedro, who simply shrugged and tried to draw you back into his arms. "Wait," you told him firmly, and although he seemed a bit out of it, he respected your request.

"40 damn minutes since you left, then Timmy suggested that maybe you both were here making out, so we came to check," Amy said with a giggle.

"But relax, guys. This was just between us. We didn't say anything to the others," Tim reassured, his tone serious.

"Damn," you muttered quietly. Pedro's gaze lingered on your body as if he could see right through your clothes. "Hey, look at me!" you demanded, now feeling annoyed.

"Sorry," he turned to face you, smiling, his head spinning.

"Well, guys, if you want to continue your make-out session, you should finish at the hotel," Amy suggested. "It will seem weird if both of you just disappear."

"Yeah, Pedro here waited six months; he won't die waiting a few more hours," Timmy added, patting Pedro's shoulder. They both laughed, and you felt yourself blushing. Wait! How did he knew that?

"You see how mean she can be, man? The day didn’t even got to an end and I already got dropped in a group chat, and now I'll be left here," Pedro teased, looking at you. 

"Here he comes," you said, rolling your eyes. "He needs to provoke me, or his day isn't complete."

"Because I love to see you getting angry," Pedro said, hugging you. "It's soooo easy to get under your skin," he whispered in your ear.

"Get a room, you two," Amy joked, glancing at the door to see if anyone was coming outside. Spotting Jenny and Jeff leaving together, you and Amy received a message in the girls' group chat. "Leaving with Jeff, loved the night, see you tomorrow ;)"

 

Feeling the need to leave, you decided to go back inside as if nothing had happened. The pub was buzzing with excitement as Depeche Mode blared through the speakers. You and Amy rejoined the girls, while Pedro followed Timmy and sat back at the table. You both chose to keep your distance as the night progressed.

As the evening continued, all of you enjoyed the rest of the night at the small pub. The staff eventually approached you, kindly asking you to leave as they needed to close up.

You left with Amy and Timmy as everyone made their way home, including Pedro, May, and Lauren. In the car, you felt your phone vibrating. It was a message from Pedro: "My room or your room? We have unfinished business." Considering the location of your rooms, his seemed like the better option in case there was any noise, as he was on a way better side of the hotel. "Yours. I'll drop by when I arrive. Friend," you replied, holding back the urge to express how much you already missed his touch, choosing to convey it in person instead.

“You don't have to dream it all, just live a day

Don't say a prayer for me now

Save it 'til the morning after”

[slashing-thunnder]

Can u do slashers x a extremely misophonic fem reader. Like the slightest hum , foot tapping , ect can make them stressed out, considering I’ve been diagnosed with the most srs case with this and school has been a huge problem for me! (Suggested slashers,: brahms, jason, bubba)

I'll give it a shot! I hope these came out okay 😅 also, am I writing Jesse heavily from my own headcanons? yes, yes i am

Headcanons for: Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Bubba Sawyer, Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms first started noticed your sensitivity when he saw you getting tense at him eating, every clink of his silverware made you antsy and huffy. He stopped eating and watched as you calmed back down, a small sigh of relief telling him everything he needed. He was very careful from there on out, watching you with every sound in the house to learn your triggers. One day, a rat got into the house and all you could focus on was the sound of its scratching. It drove you up the wall, so to speak, so Brahms sat you down and turned his music on, just loud enough to drown out the scratching. He shuffled back into the walls of the house until he could find the rat himself, taking care of the scratching once and for all. He couldn't let you suffer like that.

Jason Voorhees

Small sounds are nearly impossible to avoid in the woods. From crickets, owls, raccoons and coyotes, you were suffering as you curled up in the tiny cabin, pillow over your head as you sobbed. Jason sat beside you, rubbing your back through it all, trying his best to soothe you. It was like this a lot, especially at night. He got fed up with the sounds himself after a while, getting angry at how they hurt you. He took it upon himself to go hunting for something to help. A campsite a short distance away had rowdy teens, one of which had a pair of big noise canceling headphones on hand. He took care of them, making sure they couldn't give you any trouble and took the headphones. He put them on you the second he got home, watching as you relaxed for the first time in a long time. He petted your hair and held you close as you finally got some sleep.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba may be one of the biggest noise makers in the family. He didn't talk, but just the sound of his chewing and slurping were enough to drive you mad, causing you to storm out one family dinner. Poor Bubba didn't know what to do and scurried after you. You sat on the bed, now away from the noises of dinner, and explained. He was upset at first, not at you, but how he made you feel. You assured him he wasn't bad, helping him relax enough for him to make a plan. During the day while you were in another room, he practiced eating as quietly as he could. Nubbins gave him shit about it, causing him to huff and puff at him in anger. He couldn't make the others in the family quiet down, but he could make himself do it. After a few days, he managed to get it as quiet as he could. He pulled you into the kitchen for dinner, away from the family that time. The others weren't going to understand, but if it was just one little thing he could do to help, he was going to do it.

Jesse Cromeans

Jesse was a sensitive man himself in his daily life. He couldn't handle analog clocks or anything like that. He nearly cut Preston's legs off when he was tapping his foot one day during a meeting. So when he noticed you having a similar issue, he made sure to accommodate you. Preston was no longer allowed around you, something in the way he breathed made you antsy. Jesse made sure to make your bedroom as quiet as possible, he had you sleep in different rooms for his own sake, but it helped you as well. He gave you music and headphones to drown out anything he couldn't stop. He took care of you, he'd do anything for his favorite piggy.

Asa Emory

Normally he wouldn't give a shit if a sound bothered someone, he'd take pleasure in torturing someone with just a noise. But when it came to you, he tired of seeing you upset. The hotel was filled with noises from the heater rattling to the dogs barking. He moved you room to room, trying to find one that would be the quietest. When that didn't work, he got every sort of headphone and ear plug he could find to help, but some of the noises just cut right through. He had one option, though he despised it. He made you promise to be a good pet, to behave. Not to scream or run. You loved the man so much you were amused to why he'd even ask that of you. You realized why when he took you to his house, putting you in his bedroom. It was much quieter now, the house didn't have an ancient heating system that killed your eardrums. You were touched, he finally trusted you enough to let you be more than just a favorite prisoner. Now you were his lover, one hundred percent.

[moonspirit]

Give us your best headcanons for Annie trying (and failing? If it's even possible??) to seduce Armin!!

Anon, my best (and funniest) headcanon for this has gravitated to the glue tree that is my longfic xD So I'm forced to keep that one a secret for now. However I've done my best to dig into my brain and pull out some long forgotten filth.

Disclaimer: I've been in a Silly Annie mood for a long-ass time, so of course she tries to seduce Armin, of course she fails, but what she doesn't know is that her failures are tremendous successes as far as Armin's POV is concerned, and like... that makes sense right?

Alright, get ready for...

[N/SFW] Silly Annie Seducing (and sometimes failing) Armin - ft. Pieck's Outrageous Ideas.

Sexy Lingerie:

Lingerie and Annie don't get along well at first. The underwires bite into her skin, the straps dig into her shoulders and in places they shouldn't reach, and the shockingly flimsy layer of fabric (or the lack of it, really) where she really should be feeling less cold, puts her on edge.

Then again, her curiosity to see Armin's reaction to said sexy lingerie is a little stronger than her initial dislike for it, so under her skirt suit it goes (thanks, Pieck), on her trip with Armin that's primarily for diplomatic purposes, but also doubles as a vacation for the two of them.

But it all goes wrong the moment the official dinner meeting finishes, because Annie's racing to their hotel room to pull everything off and relieve herself of the discomfort. Sure, she feels bad Armin won't get to see it (as was originally planned, where she was supposed to shove him on the bed and straddle him and let him take off her clothes one by one), but if she feels that scrap of lace chafe her thigh once more, she's going to scream.

Off it all comes, in the hotel bathroom, and listening to the sounds of Armin unpacking his bag outside, she takes a warm bath.

First mistake - She hasn't brought a change of clothes into the bath. So she pokes her head out and asks him to hand over his old blue shirt which is in her bag.

Second mistake - her bag is full of sexy lingerie (thanks, Pieck, again) and the second Armin unzips it, his mouth drops open as he pulls out silky camisole, lacy bra, flimsy underwear, one after the other. By the time he manages to fish out the required shirt, his face is bright red (but also fantastically intrigued, come on), and Annie's crumbling behind the door with overwhelming embarrassment.

Third mistake (but not really!) - Annie finally emerges from the bathroom in only his shirt and nothing more, and poor Armin (already tortured with crazy good images) can't tear his eyes off the way her nipples poke through said shirt, and the way her thighs look so good framed by the much longer hems.

Goes without saying, they didn't do much sightseeing anywhere throughout the trip. The lingerie was put to efficient (and comfortable) use, with Annie wearing them, and Armin taking them off soon after.

Talking Dirty:

Listen, getting Armin to talk dirty to her takes very little effort: all Annie has to do is some mild misbehaving (sometimes it doesn't even take that!) and his honey smooth voice is talking nasty in her ears, drawing out whimpers and moans with so much of ease.

But apart from the incoherent pleas and begging he elicits from her during the act itself, Annie finds herself dying with embarrassment at the thought of talking dirty to him.

But god, does she want to see it: his face after she's just told him to fuck her brains out.

Saying it out loud is the problem though.

The next time she finds herself shivering and shaking under his ministrations, she draws the courage to say something decently dirty enough (Pieck's line had been: Fuck me with your huge dick, but no way in hell Pieck's line will fall out of her mouth).

So when she weakly calls his name with an equally weak tap on his shoulder, she's got Armin's full attention. His eyes are roving enquiringly over her face, and he's stopped his movements. Now would be the perfect time, really, to drive him insane.

"F-Fuck-" She manages to say before the words get stuck in her throat.

"What?" He hasn't the slightest clue.

"F-" now it's even worse and she blinks like a fish. Fuck me like never before, why is that so hard to say?

"Annie?"

"F-Fu-" And it all goes to shit.

What she doesn't know, and luckily for her, Armin reallllyyyyy loves it when she curses. It's those breathy intonations, the slip of a sliver of voice between the quiet sighs, the rough gasp here, the edge of a moan there, in the way she says filthy words, that absolutely gets him going mad.

The Banana:

Touch starved, affection deprived, and horny - that describes Annie's current state after the last two weeks. Armin's been too busy with meetings and paperwork, and none of it interests her. It also bothers her that he's beginning to look frazzled again, the way he always does when work takes front seat. Long story short - He needs to relax.

The stupid banana was her idea thanks to Pieck pointing out casually (with no other motive whatsoever, she'd sworn innocently) that it looked the perfect size of a dick.

So here she is, in Armin's room, waiting for him to come out from his bath, with the banana peeled and ready in her hands, ripe enough to be eaten. Innocently, of course.

But the longer she stares at it, the more doubtful she becomes that sucking off a banana is going to be anything remotely sexy. So, listening to the running water, she takes a gentle lick, then another, and then another, telling herself it's all just to practice what she'll do when he comes out.

Maybe it's the sweetness, maybe it's the growing confidence, but she enjoys it a little too much, and by the time Armin finally does come out, the banana is... soggy and quivering.

Still, she does her best, making his eyes go wide and his greeting die in his throat when she holds his reddening gaze and takes a long lick of the banana from the bottom up. It works. He swallows. He whispers her name as he comes closer. His eyes grow hazy when she sucks the tip of the banana.

And then all fails, when the soggy wet banana keels over in half and falls on her chest.

There's a horrible moment of silence when Annie wonders if she's just demonstrated to him the decapitation of his dick - but she doesn't have to worry too much.

Because there's banana on her mouth and banana on her chin. Banana on her jaw, and a lot of it on her chest. All Armin can now see is remnants of... other things, in all these places.

Needless to say, things get REALLY messy that night.

Listen, this could get a lot longer but I have to stop here xD For my own sanity xD

[acemmetry]

A Poor Man's Dilemma / Prologue p.1

Right, so, I'm going to be cross posting my fanfics on AO3 to here.

Without further ado, here's 'A Poor Man's Dilemma', my Deltarune fic. Coincidentally, also my first fic ever.

(Read it here if you so desire!)

----

It had been 2 weeks since Spamton's last break in to the mansion, and the Swatchlings were still finding pipis lying about.

The things were similar to that of a burr, latching onto fabric unfortunate enough to touch them and refusing to let go unless given a firm tug. The only difference was that pulling too hard would cause it to explode in your face. They were really quite the nuisance to remove, and often left Swatch wondering how Spamton even got hold of such things. Then again, when you're surrounded by garbage everyday, it shouldn't be too hard to find any oddities that people throw away.

They weren't all that concerned about it, however. After all, the salesman's trespassing had become less of a thing as of late, meaning the explosives were becoming less of a problem. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally giving up on reaching the basement.

Swatch immediately recoiled and shook their head at such a foolish thought. It was nothing more than wishful thinking. Everyone within the mansion knew that Spamton was hellbent on reaching NEO. Though the man had once been a valued customer within their establishment, his obsession with the thing had led him to getting kicked out. For good.

Suffice to say, he was no longer welcome there.

A buzzing from their left pocket pulled them from their thoughts, reminding them that it was time to wrap up for the night. Tucking the rag they had been wringing their hands with into their back pocket, Swatch turned and ducked underneath the curtains behind them, pulling them shut as they went. In doing so, they had entered the dining hall, which they had to cross to get to the front door. Making their way to the exit, they eyed their surroundings to ensure nothing was out of place. However, upon reaching the door, they looked over their shoulder to do a proper scan of the room before leaving. They had no doubt that their underlings did a great job cleaning up; they were just checking to make sure a certain someone wasn't hiding in their café. With everything proven to be as it should, they flicked off the light and stepped out onto the main street, closing the door and locking it behind them.

They had someone to meet up with tonight. It was preferable they get a move on.

The main street was always busy, day or night, with the neon signs of the surrounding shops serving as street lamps. To Tasque Manager, it was reminiscent of a mall, though the lack of roof overhead served as a reminder that it wasn't. Passerby who recognized the Queen's Maid would give her a wave before going about their business. She, ever the professional, only acknowledged them with a nod of her head. There was no time for pleasantries; even with Queen in sleep mode, there were still things to do. And it was her job to see them done before the Mansion shut down for the night.

For a good while, the Mansion had been dealing with a pest problem, worse than any maus infestation they'd had in the past. The thing left the halls in disarray, the pottery in shambles, and the staff stuck cleaning up after it. All other methods of removal so far had failed, and some of her coworkers had begun to doubt that the problem would ever be fixed.

His name was Spamton G. Spamton, Cyber World's former big shot and current lunatic. During the later part of his stay at the Mansion, he had found out about Swatch's old art project and had since become obsessed with it. To this day, even after his eviction, he had been crafting up schemes to get his hands on it. What he intended to do with the robot was unclear, but one thing was for certain.

He would never reach NEO. Fight it all he may, it would never become his.

However, he had been getting very close lately. His plans were becoming more elaborate, more unpredictable. It was usually every other night he broke into the Mansion, but now, he went weeks on end without so much as coming near Queen's establishment. Perhaps his plan was to catch them with their guard lowered? It would certainly make sense; the average person would start to relax if the danger had seemingly passed.

But Queen's staff were no average people. They were professionals, trained against such tactics. Though they were made to appear as harmless servants, they were, in reality, seasoned bodyguards, keeping to their duty of maintaining order within the Mansion. They knew better than to lower their guards, not while someone like Spamton still roamed the streets.

Alas, he was a chore, but not one on her list of errands for tonight.

A voice calling out her name brought her back to her senses. Rather than respond to it, she instead checked her surroundings and herself, sighing at what she found.

No wonder Spamton believed he could catch them off guard! While lost in thought, Tasque Manager had carried out a majority of the errands required of her that night. In one hand was a bag of new cleaning supplies, while the other held a box of assorted items up against her hip. She wasn't even on the main street anymore. How utterly shameful it was, to allow her thoughts to disorganize as they just did! She should always be at full attention when performing her duties. If she wasn't, everything could fall to chaos! Speaking of full attention... whoever was calling her name required hers.

She turned in time to catch Swatch falling into step beside her.

"Good evening", came their greeting. "Pardon my asking, but is something troubling you? I was calling your name, but you didn't hear me."

Tasque Manager's lips thinned as she averted her gaze to the space in front of her. So it had been Swatch calling her name. And she had ignored them! How rude of her! Perhaps she had been too lax in her self-discipline. She was so unorganized lately!

There would be time for mentally berating herself later. Right now, she was in the middle of a conversation.

"Apologies. I thought you had been some cat-caller, so I ignored you," she lied. She loosened her lips and curled them into a small smile, hoping Swatch would take it as a sign that she was at ease. "As you can see, I have been quite busy with her Majesty's errands." She shifted the box at her hip for emphasis. "Though I must say, today's list was quite small. There's usually much more to do than this." With a flick of her wrist, the bag of cleaning supplies she had been holding were stored away into her inventory. She'd need at least one free hand if she was to carry out her next errand.

Swatch hummed in affirmation before folding their hands behind their back, a telltale sign they were listening. Noticing this, Tasque Manager's smile softened into something more genuine. They were so polite and well-mannered, on or off the clock, and she couldn't help but admire them for that. Maybe someday, she'd feel the same way about Swatch that they felt about her.

The idle chatter between the two temporarily shifted into a topic on the Mansion's resident pest. Together, they theorized a few methods on how to permanently remove him from the premises before dropping the whole subject altogether. Though neither liked the man, what had happened to him...

...

...it wasn't any fault of their own. There was no use dwelling on it.

°°°

Tasque Manager, having found the last of the tasques sent out on patrol that day, relieved it of its duty, thus finishing all her errands. Swatch had long since made their way back to the mansion, meaning she was all alone as she made her way to the Trash Zone. The place was filthy, unsanitary, and unorganized, but also the quickest way home thanks to its portal door. Recently, it had been given a lock that only mansion staff had the key to. It was inconvenient for the average citizen, but if it prevented a certain salesman from using it, then there was no need to change it.

Upon reaching the door, she wasted no time in unlocking it. As is the norm when using a portal door, any memory of turning the handle and opening the door was forgotten, and suddenly, she found herself in the mansion. As quiet as possible, she closed the door behind her, making care to relock the way to the Trash Zone. With a sigh, she turned to the quiet halls of the mansion and made her way to her room, where hopefully, she could catch up on some sleep.

(Originally written 7/22/22)