#forgive me if this is sloppy. i'm not a writer (at all) n i wrote most of this at 3AM while being extremely feverish & sleep-deprived 😭

[ice-sculptures]

Why does the girl crying about her ugly boyfriend + the friend comforting her by saying she could dump her boyfriend tomorrow sound like El and Max? (Although the jury disagrees with the statement that Mike is ugly).

oh my god anon, you're a genius 😭

you inspired me, so here, i wrote 2k of elmax one-sided enemies-to-friends-to-something-more 👀 meet-cute with a hint of byler!!

and i just wanna include a disclaimer that the abundant mike slander in this is just for the bit!! i think mike is so very wonderful, and, of course, finn wolfhard is absolutely gorgeous :)

[smarchit]

Ghost Writer

You are a writer for the Gotham Gazette. It seems your work has caught the attention of the Riddler, and GCPD tasks you with sending a coded message to him. Too bad you don't know the first thing about ciphers. Maybe all you need is a ghost writer.... (part 1, no use of y/n as usual, Dano!riddler x reader)

????

You honestly hadn't expected to see two cops in your office waiting for you when you trudged into work on some disgustingly cold and rainy Thursday morning. You saw a lot of weirdos waiting to talk to reporters in Gotham. But cops? One cop was enough to make you nervous. Two smelled like trouble and you tried to keep your nose down and hidden in your notes before Trudy, the secretary, could spot you and point you out to the officers. Lovely lady, but she couldn't read the room to save her life. 

Only once you were seated at your desk, your notes put away, computer on, your coffee at least sipped on, did you turn your attention to the officers.

"What can I do for some of Gotham's finest this lovely morning?" you asked as you folded your hands in front of you. As if on cue, a peal of thunder rattled the photos on your walls.

"Good morning, miss," the older one began. "I'm Lieutenant Gordon, this is  officer Martinez. We're here today to ask you a few questions regarding that article you wrote last week about the Riddler."

"Ah," you hummed. Well, it was bound to happen eventually, you supposed. You didn't even know anything about the guy, but people were starting to panic, and your boss had ordered a piece on him to try and eliminate a lot of terrified "Letters to the Editor." Figured you would get the short end of it.

"Look, I just wrote the article," you said, putting your hands up. "I honestly just wrote it to shut my boss up. Too many scared old ladies that think they're next on his list. I'm sure you understand."

Gordon chuckled and nodded. "More than you probably know, miss." He glanced at his partner and his expression turned serious. "Forgive me, but you don't happen to know anything about his identity?"

You blinked and then barked out a laugh. Seriously? "You're asking me if I know the identity of some weirdo I wrote one article about? Jesus, I suppose next you'll want the Batman's identity? I've written dozens about him!"

Gordon sighed. "Miss, the only reason we ask is--" he glanced at Martinez again and then turned back to you. "Your article caught his attention."

"I'm sorry?" you balked. "It caught his attention? Does that mean I'm next or something?"

Gordon held up a hand and shook his head. "We have plenty of officers outside the building and your apartment. You should be fine."

You ran a hand over your face and let out a shaky breath. Journalism will get you killed. "So is that what you came here for? To warn me that some psycho killer reads my articles?"

Martinez shook his head. "You'd be surprised at how many of those there are in Gotham. Chances are one of them is gonna read your paper eventually."

Gordon nudged him hard with his elbow and flashed him a scowl.

Martinez chuckled nervously and continued. "Uh, no. We, uh, wanted to ask you a favor."

You raised an eyebrow and waved your hand for him to get on with it.

"We know two things about the Riddler. He loves puzzles, and he's obviously a fan of your articles. All we're asking, miss, is for you to write an article specifically for our guy. Just something short to grab his attention. Some of our detectives think he's an egomaniac; it might lure him out if you take notice of him. He might get sloppy."

You looked between both men, your mouth agape with disbelief. They honestly couldn't expect you to go along with this, could they?

"We understand if you say no," Gordon said softly. "It's a lot to ask, and it could be dangerous. We'd be there to step in if it posed any immediate danger to you."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his hollow promise. Protection under Gotham PD these days was about as useful as tits on a nun.

"We just need enough to draw him out a little," Martinez reasoned. "Please."

You sighed and threw your pen down onto your desk. "Look, I'd love to help your case, officers, but we're all swamped here with the election coming up and I really can't afford to lose out on my paycheck. It's shit enough as it is--"

"GCPD is willing to pay you a commission fee in addition to whatever your normal weekly pay is," Gordon said.

You bit your lips and sighed heavily. "Fine. Just tell me what you need."

????

Holy shit you hated ciphers. Fuck did you hate this shit.

Numbers swirled in front of you on the papers spread out on the sticky diner counter. Letters, symbols, they all blended together and you groaned softly as you pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes. It ruined your makeup, but who gave a shit? A quick glance at the TV showed the time - you only had a few more hours to finish this and you weren't anywhere close to being done.

"Is that an Atbash cipher?" you heard a soft, shy voice ask. 

You looked up and blinked the dryness from your eyes. When your vision unblurred itself, you saw who that timid voice belonged to.

A young man was seated next to you at the counter. You hadn't even noticed when he sat down beside you. He had an excited glint in his eye as he examined your scattered papers from behind his thick glasses. The fluorescent lights gave his shaggy brown hair a sickening green glow as he moved a fraction of an inch closer to look at your work.

"I--- yes?" you stammered. Honestly, you didn't even know the name of the random cipher you had selected from your library book. You had just turned to the middle of the "Advanced Ciphers and Codes" section of the book and went from there.

"You know about secret codes?" you asked.

He gave you an awkward, shy smile and nodded. "Atbash ciphers are actually pretty easy to solve. They're basic substitutions, more basic than say, a baconian cipher."

"You've already lost me," you replied. You hoped you didn't sound mean.

The man's tight smile grew a bit and he put his hand on the paper closest to him. He angled it slightly so he could read it better.

"What's this for?" he asked. "Are you making your own code or something?"

You shook your head and smiled. "Oh, no. I'm a writer for the Gotham Gazette. I'm working on a new article."

The man's eyes lit up at the mention of the Gazette. He turned towards you a little more and patiently rested his hands on the counter. "Have you written anything I might have read?"

You thought for a second and then smiled. "I wrote that piece a while back, "Who is the Batman?" I made the front page with that - I was pretty excited. It was my first time having a full front page to myself. Let's see... Oh! Last week I wrote that piece on the Riddler! "Friend or Foe: Bringing Justice to a Frightened City--"

"'Who exactly is the Riddler and what threat does he pose to the local citizens of Gotham?'" the young man spoke in unison with you as you recited the headline of your article. Really, your article was written to be a small comfort for the masses as the election drew nearer.  "I enjoyed that one quite a bit, actually. I'm Edward."

You took his hand as he extended it to you. It was cool and clammy against your own. His fingernails were bit down to the quick, and his cuticles were scabby from picking whatever hang nails he had acquired.

"I suppose I don't really need to introduce myself then," you said with a small chuckle. You gave him your name out of politeness anyway, and you found that you enjoyed the way your name sounded on his lips when he repeated it.

"So what are you working on now?" he asked. "I'm, uh, pretty good with codes, maybe I could help? I could be like your ghost writer."

"That would be great actually!" you said with a smile. The police wanted the article by morning so it could go out with the evening paper the next day. You had been working on it all afternoon and frankly, you were exhausted. A headache was creeping up between your eyes from staring at the codes all night.

Edward looked almost relieved when you accepted his offer to help. You got the feeling he was probably turned down more often than he wasn't. He leaned over closer to you on his stool and wrote out a basic code for you to use.

After almost an hour of Edward softly explaining various ciphers and the best way to set the game as he liked to call it, the few cups of coffee you had downed earlier finally got to you and you excused yourself to use the restroom.

When you returned to your seat, Edward had a piece of paper inches from his short nose, green eyes flitting across the page as he scanned your neat handwriting.

"You're writing a letter for your article?" he asked after a few moments as he scanned your notes.

"Yeah," you said softly. You leaned in closer to him and lowered your voice so the nosy waitress wouldn't be able to hear. "GCPD asked me to write an article for that Riddler guy. He's been all over the news lately. They said one of my articles was found at his last crime scene. I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified that he might have it out for me! Anyway, I was the one to suggest the coded message. I figured it might draw his attention, you know? Some For Your Eyes Only type of thing."

Edward nodded and pushed his hair from his forehead. "Well, if he likes codes like that, it'll definitely get his attention. It got mine."

He slid a few dollars across the counter to pay for his pie and coffee and nodded nervously when the waitress came to pick up his bill.

"Good luck," he said softly. He put his coat on and zipped it half way. "I can't wait to read it in the paper. I'll be waiting!"

You turned to call out to him before he could push the door open into the misty night. "Hey, if they want me to do this again, would you want to help me next time? You definitely made it go a lot faster. I learned a lot."

Edward beamed from ear to ear and his eyes crinkled behind his glasses. "Y-yeah, I'm here pretty much every night. Next time!"

"Great!" you said. "See you later, Edward!"

"Bye!" He gave you an awkward wave before he disappeared into the damp darkness.