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acapelladitty · 24 days ago

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When The Lights Go Out: Riddler

Summary: Richard Madison is a crook but a strange encounter with a man calling himself Edward Nygma may prove to be his undoing.

Part 1: When The Lights Go Out: Scarecrow

AO3 Link ☆ Fic Masterlist

The miraculous release of Walter Johnstone from his asylum incarceration was not the only odd thing to have occurred in Gotham that day. Nor would it be the last.

It was certainly a day that Richard Madison was never likely to forget.

If you asked the average person to describe Richard Madison they would have a host of phrases ready to spring forth in his praise. As sweet as sugar, one might claim. Honest as they come, another would cry. A good man with a good heart. However, there were those who saw another side to the man and those individuals would quietly lament his misdeeds and misgivings.

Both opinions are entirely valid to their holders, as all opinions are, however those who believed in him were only witness to the facade which he presented to the world.

To put it simply, Richard Madison was a crook.

Oh, how people loved being around Richard. They whispered promises in his ears, slipped offerings into his pockets, and overall doted on him in exchange for the opportunity to engage. To have their needs met.

And he was never a man to deny the people their needs.

When it suited him.

Emerging from the elevator to his private office, his shoulder clicked as he stretched his arms before him to prepare for the next few hours of sitting at his computer and running his small empire from the comfort of his favourite chair.

However, an unexpected sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

Standing in his office as though he belonged there, lounged a suited man. His body was on the thinner side and even from this distance Richard could tell that the bottle green suit, expertly styled as it cinched his frame, was cut from expensive cloth. Boyish features shone from a face which could not have been a day over forty and his appearance was made all the more striking by the shock of flame red hair which sat atop his head, mostly covered by a lurid green bowler hat which perfectly matched the shade of his suit.

“Richard Madison!” The man exclaimed in a showman voice, his excitement radiating from him in waves. “In the flesh! The man of the hour!”

Reaching out as he approached Richard’s stunned position, he gripped his hand in a firm grasp before shaking with an almost comedic level of effort. His arm swinging up and down in the grasp of the madman, Richard politely let go before hiding his hand within his pocket to prevent any further touching.

“Who are you?” Richard asked. This was his private office and absolutely no one got in here without first jumping through a series of hoops designed to keep out any 'undesirables'. “And what the hell are you doing here?” He allowed his shock to manifest as anger as he roared at the red-haired man.

“Lovely office,” throwing an arm out with great flourish, the man ignored the open aggression to gesture wildly around the room, “you must tell me who your decorator is.”

The stark minimalism of his office stared back at him as Richard's eyes swept the room. His room was boring, intentionally designed as such, so was he joking?

“Look, buddy, I don't thin-” cutting himself off, Richard clenched and unclenched his fist as he repeated his earlier question. “Who are hell are you?!”

“My name is Edward Nygma.” Flashing a smile, Edward dropped his head in a dramatic nod and allowed the green bowler hat to topple from his scalp and into his waiting hands before tucking it below his arm. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Madison. May I call you Richard?”

Now exposed, his red hair was perfectly coiffed into an old-fashioned style which felt very out of place in the modern office.

“I suppose.”

“What about Dick?”

Pursing his lips as his eyes narrowed, Richard was unable to tell if this man was mocking him or his earnest manner was genuine.

“I usually insist on Richard.”

“Then feel free to call me Edward.” Edward answered. “And to answer your earlier question, I am here to make you an offer which I know you will be unable to resist. We are both men of knowledge and money, so I know that you will want to hear what I have to say.”

“I’m not a trader.” Richard spat back, the surreal nature of this meeting making his aggression feel more performative that anything. “If you want me to invest in some shit you’re cooking up then go to Wall Street and pitch to the sons of bitches there.”

“Oh, I met the fools at Wall Street. Quite a long time ago.” Smirking as lips curled into a smile, Edward flashed his white teeth. “I gave them all the clues and all the opportunities to be honest men and they chose to ignore me. And then? Can you believe it? BANG!”

At this, Richard jumped in place as Edward smacked his hand against his thigh with some force.

“It all came crashing down. The Wall Street Crash, they called it. More than a few brains came to decorate the nearby paving after that, but they can't say they hadn't been warned. I gave them every chance.”

He's definitely mad, Richard thought. Edward did not look a day over forty and yet he had the gall to claim that he was present for the Wall Street collapse in the 30's?

“Talking like that will get you locked up in Arkham.” Richard warned.

“Oh no,” Edward exclaimed, “oh no, no, no! That would never do! I am far too intelligent for that and besides,” leaning in close as though divulging some information that only he was privy to, the green of Edward’s eyes twinkled madly for a moment, “an old friend has already made himself comfortable in those harrowed halls. It would be rude for me intrude on his delicate work.”

“You have connections in Arkham?” Such things were not unheard of and Richard himself had at least one guard on his payroll to ensure that the odd piece of information here and there fell into his hands. “Staff or guests?” He added.

“Staff today could be guests tomorrow and vice-versa. Let's not judge people based on their current position, particularly when that position is fragile at best. Fantastic things are afoot in Gotham right beneath your nose,” Edward insisted, “and my associates and I are here to see what she has to offer. So much filth and rot and chaos all wrapped in a pretty package of gothic architecture and urban landscaping.”

“Associates?”

“Oh, don't you worry, Richard. You are very unlikely to ever meet them as we tend to stick to our roles somewhat rigidly.”

“I need to make a phone call.” Richard interjected quickly. “Excuse me.”

Quickly retreating back to the doors of the elevator, Richard snatched his mobile from his suit pocket and quickly hit one of the numbers on his speed dial. This man, Edward, seemed to have decent connections and money to his name but he wanted to be sure before moving any further.

To his luck, his secretary picked up after only two rings.

“Hello, Richard Madison’s office. How may I direct your call?” Came a feminine droll from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Sam.” Relieved to hear a familiar voice, Richard continued. “Need you to run a quick background check for me.”

“Sure, boss.”

“Claims his name is 'Edward Nygma'. Never heard of him before but he looks like he has some decent coin behind him.”

“Okay. And where is he currently?”

“Standing inside my office.”

An audible hitch of breath.

“Okay, boss.”

Immediately on to business, Richard could hear the frantic tapping of her keyboard as she sought out the information he needed.

“The name is coming up here, boss.” As though reading from a script, Sam listed off her findings. “Edward Nygma. Business owner and entrepreneur. Apparently considered rather handsome. Worth…”

A pause.

“What?” Richard asked.

“Billions. Christ, he could put Wayne outta business. He’s absolutely loaded.”

“Billions! How have we not heard his name before?”

“He's a noted recluse. Very little personal details available here. All I can see is that his net worth is mind-blowing but the only thing he has name officially to is a production line of different types of toys.”

“Child toys?”

“Puzzle toys. For all ages and ranges.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s not a lot to go on but it’s definitely there. Good source too. He's legit.”

Hanging up with a shaking finger, Richard could smell opportunity like a shark could blood. A noted recluse worth billions, right here in his office. He could take advantage of this in a way which he and all others had been unable to do so with Bruce Wayne; a man so wrapped up in his holier-than-thou attitude that he refused to engage in any business which would dirty his hands.

Richard hated him.

Taking a deep breath, he dropped his phone back into his pocket and started to move back towards Edward. He had not moved an inch since Richard had disappeared, but his attention was wholly focused on something which was clutched between his hands. As he approached, the flash of the brightly-coloured item in Edward's palm also drew Richard's attention and he squinted as though a sharp light had accosted him.

“What's in your hands?”

Rolling the offending object between his fingers with a practised ease, Edward brought it into the space between them.

“This?” He asked. “A curious little thing. I am very fond of puzzles and I haven't seen anything quite like this before.”

Recognising the piece, Richard squinted once again.

“A rubix's cube?” He asked, incredulous.

Who is their right mind had never seen a Rubix cube before?

“Rubix cube.” Edward repeated with a look of contemplation. “After the man who created it?”

“I guess.” Confused as to what exact relevance the puzzle held to the current discussion, Richard gestured vaguely with his hands. “I don't know what this has to do with-”

“Oh, of course! Of course!” Exclaiming loudly, Edward slapped a hand good-naturedly on his knee as he smiled. “Excuse my ramblings but you must forgive an old man his pleasures.”

“Would you like a drink?”

“Watered down whisky doesn’t agree with me, Dick,” Edward declined. “And I would think a man like yourself would want to watch his health. The liver can be a tricky old thing, especially six years down the line.”

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Nygma? I doubt this is a social call since we don’t, uh, know each other.”

“I have an opportunity which you would be a damned fool to pass up on. A new line of puzzle and magic toys, fabricated and distributed across Gotham and her sister cities.”

With Edward waving his hand around, Richard was able to catch a glimpse of his watch and found himself momentarily stunned by the beautiful timepiece and the various gemstones which were embedded within.

“Toys? Just toys? Surely we cou-”

“I have meetings today with others, including a meeting with a very interesting man named Wayne who seems to have taken a liking to my products,” Edward grinned.

Richard’s chest clenched with anger at the familiar name and he immediately backpeddled on his scepticism, “That won’t be necessary. I would love to enter into a business deal with you, Mr. Nygma. I hear you have quite the reputation.”

“I’m certain I do,” Edward replied, “and I would like to bring you onboard before I return to my other duties. $10 million would suffice as a minor investment, one which would see major returns.”

Wincing at the amount but desperate to keep the vaguely gullible and eccentric billionaire within his grasp, greed already blinding his thoughts as he imagines various ways of involving the fool with his less pleasant ventures, Richard nodded at the proposed amount.

The conversation flowed smoothly after that, discussions of timescales and proposed returns forcing Richard into the belief that he was making a smart choice. His mind focused despite the whirling nature of Edward’s demeanour; Richard felt the thrill of his greed thrumming in his veins as he catered to his latest potential cash cow.

“So, do we have a deal, Dick?”

Extending his hand with a showman smile, Edward allowed it to hang in the air between them with a sense of finality.

Willing to ignore the nickname this one time, Richard nodded once more and accepted the handshake before dropping his hand to his inner pocket. Mobile phone in hand, it took Richard less than five minutes to have the investment money wired over to Edward’s accounts – ensuring that he retained a firm copy of all Edward’s account details should anything go awry with their deal.

“This account is one of my more selective accounts and I would appreciate its use being kept on the quieter side of things. I am sure you understand,” Richard muttered with a put-on smile.

“Of course, of course! My lips are sealed.” Edward winked, placing his bowler hat atop his head with a dramatic flourish. “A silent account for a silent partner.”

His smirk actually blossoming into a genuine smile, Richard took the initiative to end their meeting.

“A pleasure, Mr Nygma. I hope to work with you again.”

Tilting his head with a wicked smirk of his own, Edward answered in kind.

“I’m sure you’ll think of our partnership often.”

x-x-x-x-x

Stepping into the familiar office of Salvatore Maroni, Richard inclined his head to the goons who remained on guard as he joined both the owner of the office and their mutual friend, Daniel Mockingbird, by taking a seat on the only available chair.

“Evening, boys. Pour me a decent one, eh, Sal?” Richard asked, inclining his empty whisky glass to Maroni. A glass which was quickly filled with amber liquid as the man in question poured him a healthy slosh of scotch.

“You’re chipy as fuck today, Richard. Balls finally drop?” Mockingbird cut in, his thick Italian accent glossing over the words with ease.

“Funny,” Richard deadpanned as he sank a gulp of the scotch, “but anyway, how has your week been gentlemen?”

“Great, I got me a new business partner and I think he’s going to be one for the books, boys,” sipping from his own glass, Maroni appeared pleased with himself as he divulged his luck to the other two.

Surprised, given his own unmade announcement, Richard inclined his hand to Maroni as he indicated for him to continue.

“Yeah, some fucking freak. Came here to ask me to partner on an investment deal for some shitty kids toys and-”

“Bullshit!” Mockingbird called out, surprising both men at the outburst. “You met with Nygma too?”

Open shock playing on his face as he watched the two speak, Richard dropped his hands to his lap as his head darted between the two like a tennis match.

“Yeah. Showed up here asking for $10 million.” Maroni confirmed.

“Fuck! Same from me.”

“Same, huh? For the toy business?”

“Yeah, for the fucking toy business. He didn’t say nothing about having other partners.” Running a hand through his slickened hair, Mockingbird was clearly unimpressed with the fact that his great deal had not been as exclusive as he thought. “Jesus Christ man, $20 million from us both. Sneaky fuc-”

“$30 million,” Richard intercut with a frown. “I also received a visitor yesterday.”

Genuinely speechless, all three men grumbled their discontent into their glasses as they observed the others with open suspicion. Their friendship was tenuous, agreements always being settled under the table to ensure that the dirt they could hold over each other was limited, and an event like this would only breed discontent.

Unable to muse for too long as his phone started vibrating madly in his pocket, Richard pulled it free with a gruff greeting as he pressed it against his ear.

“Mr. Madison, we have a problem.”

Sam. Sounding thoroughly distraught as her voice stuttered across the words.

“What is it?” Richard asked, a sinking feeling dropping his chest into his stomach.

“It’s gone, Sir. Everything. All the money from the secret account.”

His heart stuttering at the information, Richard barely noticed when both Maroni and Mockingbird picked up their own ringing mobiles.

“What the fuck do you mean it’s gone?”

“The account is empty, Sir. The $10 million transferred through to the Nygma account but the rest has disappeared. It’s gone, Sir.”

“No, no-NO!” Richard snapped, snarling his words down the phone. “You find me that money, Sam. Find it and get it back. Hunt down that fuck Nygma if you need to because I think he has something to do with it.”

Slamming his phone shut, his heart pounding in his ears as his blood pressure reached new levels, Richard zoned back into his companions to find that all hell had broken loose across both men. Maroni’s face was a stunning shade of puce as he screamed insults into his mobile while Mockingbird was speaking in Italian at record speed, his expression equally as angry.

Allowing both men the time to finish their phone calls as they went through a similar disbelieving anger to himself, Richard understood without a doubt that they had all been swindled in a similar fashion.

“What the fuck is happening?” Mockingbird hissed, throwing his glass to the floor as the scotch splashed across the carpet. “One of my private accounts has been tanked! Gutted! Fucking robbed!”

Maroni pulled his lips back into a snarl, “Same here! Fuck! The account I used yesterday. That sneaky fuck Nygma is behind this and I’m going to find him, boys.”

“Pull our resources! I’m going to kill that red-haired fuck.” Richard added with a roar.

“Red hair?” Mockingbird face was confused despite the rage, “You mean black hair? Short little fucker too, only about 5ft? Weasley as fuck.”

“What?” Squinting, Richard shook his head. “No. He was wiry with red hair, probably about my height and thin as an addicts piss. Sal?”

His voice so low that both men struggled to pick up on his exact words, Maroni growled his own description.

“Brown hair. Slicked back. Slight build on him. Had a stupid cane with him. I even got the bastard on record.”

Snatching out a voice recorder from a nearby desk drawer, Maroni fiddled with it before clicking play on the recorder as all three men stared at it with narrowed eyes.

“-an excellent choice, Mr Maroni! I admire your taste in being able to pick up on a good deal when it comes your way. So, let’s get down to business and I can be on my way. Shall we say around $10 million as an investment? With that I cou-”

His heart racing at the familiar voice, Richard saw a similar look of rage on Mockingbirds’ face as he listened to the recording.

“That’s him!” Mockingbird grunted, his fists clenched against his lap. “That’s the smart-mouthed cunt.”

“How the fuck can that be the same man we all met?” Richard asked reasonably, rage giving way to confusion. “Sure, he could wear a wig or change his clothes, but his height? He wasn’t a fucking magician. This shouldn’t be a fucking riddle. How much did he take from you?”

Directing the question to both men, the grave looks he received in response no doubt mirrored his own. If their loss was as great as his own then they were looking at an easy collective loss of over a hundred million. A hundred million dollars, gone in a puff of smoke.

All dirty.

All untraceable.

As it was designed to be.

It was a perfect theft.

“Play the bastards voice again, Sal.” Mockingbird hissed. “I want it committed to memory so I can remember to have his tongue ripped out when we catch the prick.”

Thick fingers pressing the play button of the audio recorder, Maroni startled in place as the casual conversation which had previously been loaded on the device was replaced by a loud, cackling laughter – the rising cacophony of Edward’s mirth making all three men shiver in place as something dark curled around the joyful sound and rattled them to their cores.

Richard Madison was a crook, but he was no fool, and, as Mockingbird fixed himself with the sign of the cross, Richard could not shake the furious anxiety which seared in his chest as he realised that something evil had held counsel with him in his office yesterday and that his money was gone somewhere he did not dare to follow.

#i dont normally ask but please read this and lemme know what ye think! I know its not smutty or shippy but a lot of love has went into this #riddler #edward nygma #edward nashton #writing #dc comics #edward nigma #gotham rogues #the riddler #riddler fic

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to-the-stars8 · 3 months ago

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Reviving Love

Jason Todd x Reader Chapters AO3

Chapter 11

Dick watched as Jason stood before him awkwardly, tipping his weight from foot to foot and not making eye contact. It reminded him of when they first met. Jay was smaller then, much smaller, and had been so nervous to meet him that when they hugged he had been shaking a little. It was nice to see his little brother underneath that hard shell.

“Sit down, Jay,” Dick said, pushing him toward one of the love seats. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Don’t mean to.” Jason sat, running his hand through his hair.

Dick sat opposite him, waiting for his brother to say something despite knowing exactly why he was there. A thick silence fell between them, both of them waiting for the other to start talking.

“I’m sorry, Dickie,” Jason said, looking up at his brother finally.

Dick smiled. “If we held every asshole thing we did over each other's head, I don't think you would be here.”

Jason smiled a little and nodded. “That's for sure. Sometimes I forget you were an only child for a good couple of years. Must have done something to your psyche.”

“Don’t push it,” Dick said with a chuckle, getting up to change. “I’m about to head out to get lunch with Barbara, you want to come with? I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“No, thanks. I have plans. There’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about before I go,” Jason said as he followed his brother to his room. As Dick took off his shirt in exchange for a nicer one, he paused to study his brother, who was now leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. He told Jason to continue, wondering what other mistakes he made. “I need you to stop trying to push in on my life. If you continue, I don’t think I’d want to be around you as often.”

“I…Okay, Jay,” He said. Dick wanted to say he hadn’t realized that he was pushing but, in truth, he knew he had been. He wanted to know his brother—and to push Jason to be the best version of himself that Dick knew he could be. When Dick thought about it for more than a moment, he realized how similar it was to Bruce. Now, that bothered him more than anything else. “I’m sorry.”

Jason nodded and shrugged, looking nervous again. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, buddy. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what made you come over today?”

“Little bird gave me some good advice,” Jason said, smiling.

“Your girlfriend?” Dick raised his eyebrows.

Dickie watched as Jason stuttered out that you weren’t exactly his girlfriend yet. The two of you had been on a couple of dates, and he had been over at your apartment nearly every day a week after the play—Still, you weren’t his girlfriend officially.

“Just ask her,” Dick said as he moved into the foyer to grab his wallet and keys. “What’s the worst she can say?”

“No,” Jason said, grabbing his coat. “Or worse, ‘get lost I never want to see you again’.”

Dick snickered, throwing his coat over his shoulders. “Doubt that. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

Jason followed Dick out the door and asked, “Oh, and how exactly did she look?”

“Well, it was between ‘I’m so in love with you’ and ‘please take me now’.”

“Dear God, you are exactly like Bruce. Pig and all.” Jason laughed loudly as he watched Dick lock his door.

“Takes a Bruce to know a Bruce.”

When they parted ways, Jason felt lighter. He was glad he had taken the advice you so pounded into his brain. You had told him that the issue, that he had told you about in the most ambiguous way possible, didn’t need some soliloquy of self-pity. You told him, “Just say sorry, plain and simple.” He could find flaws in your logic if he picked hard enough, but he decided to try it anyway since his whole family was full of drama. It would be nice to try something simple for once.

It was sunny in Gotham, though cool. It was going to be an exciting day because you were coming over to his place for dinner tonight. It had been something he was slowly working toward, and, on the last visit to your apartment, he finally managed to ask you. The look of happiness on your face was burned into his memory, and he wanted to see it in person again. And again. And again. Seeing you so happy because of him was high that he wanted to chase.

Jason had planned dinner the night before, trying to pick apart memories to find foods you would like. Finally, he settled on something that the two of you used to eat a lot during school. When he woke up that morning, his heart was pounding in his chest from excitement. As he entered his apartment, his fingers became restless. They cooked, cleaned, washed—The whole lot. He fluffed the cushions a couple of times, made and remade his bed (just in case), and even went as far as to dust the top of the fridge. It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door did he even bothered to stop cleaning.

You were excited to see him, quickly hopping up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. He’d been warming up to the light affection you gave him and had even started to hope that tonight he would be able to kiss you.

“You have a nice place,” You said as you looked around.

Jason took the jacket off your shoulders, and said, “Thank you. I made it look extra nice for you.”

Bashfully, you told him that he didn’t need to go through all the trouble.

He wanted to go through the trouble because you were more than worth it. Yet, he didn’t say this to you. Once in his little kitchenette, he gestured for you to sit down so he could prepare dinner.

Surprisingly, you refused. “It’s no fun if I just sit here.”

“I want to take care of you tonight,” Jason said. He felt flush as he said it aloud.

You stumbled over your words before finally settling on a meek, “But, I want to help.”

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before Jason silently stepped to the side. He cut the chicken as you shuffled the sides onto the plates. It was quiet now, but uncomfortably so. It felt familiar in a way, like when the two of you would sit for hours not talking as you did homework during your pre-teen years. You took the plates and set them on the table as Jason grabbed the cutlery.

You went to sit, but Jason ordered you to stop. Quickly, he crossed the kitchen to you, pulling out your chair. “Oh, what a gentleman!”

“My grandpa didn’t raise me in a barn,” Jason said.

“He did a good job.” As he was putting down your drink, you leaned up to press another kiss to his cheek. “Now, you have to tell me what you did today.”

And Jason did. He told you every detail because, with all the boring stories there were to the day, you seemed to soak them in with earnestness. The longer he continued to stare at you, too, the more realized just how much he missed you. You were a great friend, always attentive, kind, and funny. When he mentioned that he finally took your advice and that everything had worked out, you beamed with pride.

“I had a feeling it would. I think it would be hard to be mad at you for too long. You seem like too good a person, Jason,” You said.

He opened his mouth and then closed it as the sweet thought of him being a good person was cut short. He’d done terrible things, so there was no way he could actually be good. In a way, he felt guilty for inadvertently making you think as much about him.

“You think I’m a good person?” Jason asked.

You looked taken aback by the question. “I do! You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met, in any case.”

Jason didn’t know whether to be comforted by that fact or not. Nonetheless, he took it as it was. “So, um, we’re talking way too much about me. How was your day?”

You smiled down at your plate, pushing some of the food around with a fork. “It was good. I, uh, was really excited to come over, so I think that made it better.”

“Yeah?” Jason couldn’t help but let his joy escape in a little giggle.

You looked up and nodded. With a happy laugh, you said, “Yeah!”

“I didn’t think I could have that effect on people.”

“Have more confidence, Jason,” you said, reaching out to stroke his arm. “It’ll be extremely sexy on you.”

And Jason was quick to act on that advice. Either on momentary self-assurance or maybe he just wanted to put his lips on yours, Jason reached over and pulled your chair closer to his. You gasped, clutching the sides of the chair, and looked up at him.

“I wanna kiss ya,” Jason said.

“Me too,” You said with a grin, already leaning up.

Jason took in a breath for confidence and leaned down to kiss you.

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batfamily #romance #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #dick grayson and jason todd #dick grayson #jason todd red hood #jason todd fic #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x you

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raeedioheadd · 3 months ago

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IN RAINBOWS - CHAPTER ONE

summary: mostly filler, introduction chapter to the reader and our beloved boys!

warnings: mentions of drugs earlier on, murder + death at the end

word count: 2.5k

a/n: the school system is based off my own so sorry if its a little confusing !! either way i hope u enjoy reading 🙂‍↕️ lowercase is also intended.

metropolis was horrible in the hotter months. it was only spring, so it wasn't at it worst, but once summer comes around i may have to consider an extended leave to gotham. peeling my eyes open, i ran a hand down my face as i felt around my bed for my phone. my fingers touched the cool screen of the device– at least something was somewhat cold. the screen lit up, the time reading 5:30. i sighed, looking towards my fan and wondering why i wasn't getting any air from it only to see my cat, kiwi, blocking the whole thing. not only was she blocking the fan, but she was picking at the laces of my shoes as well. i stood up and walked towards her, running my fingers through her fur and picking her up. "i need some air too, kitty." i murmured, feeling the rumbles of her purring.

i eventually put her down and went downstairs since i had to feed my dad's dog, buddy. technically i was living alone for the moment. dad was always on a business trip for something somewhere, but it's not like he was distant or anything. he was everything but distant. when he was home, he tried to hover, but he always gave up because i never did anything interesting or tried to hide anything from him. we were close, and that bond strengthened after my mother died. leading up to her death, they argued a lot. he was a person of interest for a bit, but the case was eventually closed since there were no leads. it was frustrating, but i didn't want to try to play hero. we have enough of those already.

buddy was still sleeping by the time i made my way downstairs to feed him. he was a doberman; usually my dad took him on his little business trips, but this time around he kept him home. setting his bowl down, i gently scratched behind his ears before going back upstairs to shower.

i usually took cold showers in the morning to combat the metropolis heat. they worked most of the time, but they got worse around the middle of the day. thank god it was friday. after about an hour in the shower i finally got out before quickly changing and starting my walk to school. since it was my senior year and i had already completed most of my core classes, i decided to take on an early class for the second year in a row and get out much earlier than everyone else. i start school at 7:00 while everyone else starts at 8 in exchange for only taking 4 classes and getting out at 11. since i only have four classes, i was finishing up my third year of science, doubling up on math and getting to eat lunch before leaving. i could just skip lunch if i really wanted to, but it's free food!

i wasn't necessarily the most sociable person unless someone talked to me or approached me first. that being said, i'm not a social recluse either. i have my good chunk of friends- one being closer than most, and that's laila; but that's because she's just stuck around longer. that, and she doesn't know how to do her homework on time. the second i stepped into the school, laila was next to me and matching my pace. sometimes i wondered if she could read minds, but that would mean she'd be a meta. and she was, as rude as it sounds, too gullible to be one. "hey! hey!!" she huffed, waving her hand infront of my face. she called out my name and i finally decided to look over at her, bumping my shoulder against hers. "what? if you ask me for homework help again i'm gonna have to say no. my afternoon is filled with watching twilight and sleeping." i said, giving her a cheeky smile. she grumbled to herself for a moment before letting out a guttural groan. "can't you just stick around for lunch or something and help me? you're smart! that's why you finished your classes earlier than everyone else!" and the exact reason i'm not taking electives. i sighed and shook my head, walking to my class with her.

"that's not how it works," i started, glancing at her for a mere moment, "i finished my classes earlier because i took all of my harder and more important classes freshman year. and if i remember correctly," i paused, giving her a knowing look, "somebody was too high half of the time to remember to actually come to school." i shrugged, causing her to kick me with a surprising amount of force. "shut up! can you just tutor me or not?" she begs, clasping her hands together and turning to face me as we reached my class. letting out my third sigh in the past hour, i caved and said yes. she thanked me at least fifty times before scurrying off to her class before the late bell rang.

my first class was astronomy, which wasn't as interesting as it sounded. if you didn't get it confused with astrology, you knew what you were expecting. i was expecting math, but not this much math. it was tedious, but i had to deal with it. it wasn't terrible, but i didn't necessarily like it either.

the teacher droned on for most of the class period, pacing around the classroom to make sure that nobody was on their phone or sleeping. he called on me a few times, unfortunately. the old geezer managed to catch me off guard a few times with some of the questions, but it was whatever. class had ended before i knew it.

my next two classes were both math classes, sadly. my whole school day seemed to be filled with math other than the singular english class i was taking right before lunch. it was a writing class, so it was bearable enough. i enjoyed writing, actually. though, that was only when i didn't have writers block. that, and the teacher was one of the few teachers who wasn't grumpy and mad at the students because his life was going horribly. he cared for each and every one of his students, though not overbearingly.

my astronomy teacher had a stick up his ass every other day for no reason at all– he cheated on his dying wife and often liked to make fun of her infront of the class. no one laughed. my math teachers, both female (and related) were lighthearted and funny. they made the classroom atmosphere calm and you wouldn't feel embarrassed to get an answer wrong. my english teacher, like i said before, was my favorite. maybe it was because i've had him all four years of highschool, but it seemed i was a mirror of himself when i was his age.

upon walking into the classroom, he greeted me with my name and a smile. "it's nice to see you've finally caught up on sleep. you finish supernatural yet?" he asks, taking a jab at my poor sleep schedule. "no, not yet. and hey, i get more than enough sleep." i huff, setting my bag down and sitting in the second chair by his desk. he'd never admit it, but he put the second chair here for me. he said it was for the students he'd have help grade papers. (aka me.)

"what are we doing today? another essay?" i ask, spinning around slowly. "no, actually," he says, stopping my spinning so he could sit in his own chair, "i've decided to be nice teacher for a bit and let you guys watch a movie. nothing special, just make sure to pay enough attention to write a theme analysis once it's over. it should take up the whole week." he explained, causing me to sigh. "okay, whatever man." i shrug, standing up and moving the chair out of the way. i go to sit in my own seat and play on my phone for the remainder of the class, having already seen the movie.

the bell finally rang, and i watched as the students in my class ran through the door to get to their next destination. some were going to lunch while some were going their next class. i waved goodbye to my teacher and made my way to the library where i saw laila waiting for me. she beamed at me and was quick to wave me over– a bit too happy. sitting down, i gave her a once over before looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. "are you fucking high dude?" i whisper, furrowing my brows at her. she fell into a fit of giggles, leaning her body into my own. her eyes were the slightest shade of red, but it was nothing too noticable.

"i'm not..maybe." she whispered as i pushed her off of me. "drink some water. you still have three more classes after this." i said, grabbing her waterbottle from her bag. she murmured something along the lines of 'okay, mom.' under her breath before begrudgingly downing her whole water. i spent the entirety of lunch babysitting my friend.

the moment the bell rang, i abandoned laila with her boyfriend and was off to my humble abode. since it was only about 11:15, i decided to get my homework out of the way before lounging around with kiwi and buddy. maybe i'd take him on a walk tomorrow, i don't know yet.

------

walking in the door, i was pleasantly surprised to be greeted by kiwi and buddy. kiwi purred as she rubbed herself against my legs, presumably waiting for me to take off my shoes so she could ruin them once more. buddy on the other hand sat patiently as he waited for me to come pet him and tell him he could act like an normal dog. "jeez, buddy. what does dad do to you?" i asked, petting his head gently as kiwi snuck off with one of my shoes. i set my bag down and went to go change before returning to the kitchen and doing my homework. it was only around noon, so i had some time to kill before school got out. i let out a short whistle as i sat on the couch and watched as buddy raced over to me with enough speed to make my school's track team jealous. he was more than happy to sit next to me while i watched whatever piqued my interest at the moment. i ended up finding a movie to watch; it was an older movie, but i didn't mind. it was worth watching.

by the time the movie ended, buddy was restless and ready to take a walk. he let out a mixture between a bark and a whimper, ushering me to get up. "okay, okay," i chuckled, standing up and grabbing his leash and hooking it onto his collar. i slipped on a pair of slides before letting him out and locking the door behind me. i usually wasn't the one to take buddy on walks– that was my dad's job, and i know the dog got plenty when he went on business trips. speaking of my dad, i decided to call him and see what he was doing.

he finally picked up after a few rings, and i could hear his voice call out my name. "what's up, sweetheart?" he asks, messing around with something in the background. "nothing, just wanted to call and see what you were up to." i said, stopping so buddy could use the bathroom. "oh, you know," he paused, grunting as he lifted something, "just work stuff. what'cha doin? i hear birds; you outside?" he questions. "walking buddy. he misses you." i say, nearing the park. "oh, good. well, i've gotta go. i'll be home soon sweetheart, i promise." he promises, bidding me goodbye. i sigh and tuck my phone in my pocket, going into the dog park portion of the, well, human park? unhooking buddy's collar, i watch as the black dog runs off to go roll around in the grass and use up all of his energy. after a bit of me sitting on a bench and scrolling on my phone, a black great dane sauntered in and immediately ran over to me. he began to sniff at me, giving me pleading eyes as if asking me to pet him.

"hey, bud.." i smiled, scratching behind his ears. someone walked up to me and cleared their throat, causing me to look up. it was a boy with olive skin and black hair, with green eyes that tied everything together. "is this your dog?" i ask, offering him a small smile. why does he look so familiar?

"yes." he says, keeping it short. okay, wow? "uh..well, what's his name?" i ask, feeling the dog rest his head on my lap. seemingly begrudgingly, he gives me his name. "titus." he grumbles, his gaze falling on the dogs head in my lap. "it fits." i say, continuing to smile at him. before the conversation can get any more awkward, yet another boy walks over. "hi! sorry about him." he says, shoving the first boy to the side a bit so he could stand infront of me instead. jesus, they were tall.

"i'm sorry about titus, too. he likes to meet new people." the boy says, adjusting his glasses. behind those glasses are vibrant blue eyes that sit against beige skin with a head of fluffy black hair. "oh, it's okay," i say, lifting titus' head as buddy trots over to me so i can stand up, "what's your name?" i ask, wishing to know the name of my savior. "my name is jon! and this," he pauses, pointing a thumb back at his friend. "is damian." he finishes with a smile. "very fitting names." i say, stealing a glance at the raven haired boy behind him. i gave jon my name before putting buddy's leash back on. "it was nice meeting you, but i have to go. he'll fall asleep on the sidewalk if i don't get him home soon." i laugh, rubbing buddy's side as i waved at them. "i hope to see you around! byee!" jon called after me, turning and saying something to damian after i was put of earshot.

as i walked home, i still couldnt help but feel like damian looked and sounded familiar. i brushed it off and let buddy inside first after unlocking the door and went upstairs to change into my pajamas. turning on the tv, i held kiwi in my lap as i brushed her while the news anchor went on and on about a kitchen fire when the breaking news came on. i looked up, feeling kiwi nibble at my hand as i listened to the woman speak.

"it seems after six grueling years, the serial killer known as the sundown slasher has struck again. known for skinning the faces of their victims, after sundown and earning their namesake, another body has popped up once again.."

i sighed and muted the TV, looking down at kiwi. i hated this. he was part of the reason my dad had cameras in and outside of the house. for a little bit of my childhood i was sure the sundown slasher had killed my mom. but once the case went cold, i pushed the thought to the back of my head. shutting off my lamp, the TV was the only thing illuminating my room as kiwi and i laid down. i quickly sent a text to my dad before turning on some random cartoon and slowly dozing off.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #dc robin #jonathan kent #jon kent #jon kent x reader #superboy #teen titans #batman #bruce wayne #clark kent #x reader

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your-local-simp-writers · 25 days ago

Text

Movie Night

Word Count: 1775

Warnings: None

Terry Mcginnis x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The evening air felt fresh and inviting as you walked up to Terry’s house, a feeling of excitement bubbling in your chest. After a long week filled with chaotic school projects and endless responsibilities, spending a quiet night with him felt like the perfect antidote. His house was a small but cozy place, nestled in a quiet neighborhood that was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Neo-Gotham. The porch was adorned with a couple of potted plants that Terry’s mother tended to meticulously. Their vibrant colors popped against the muted backdrop of the house, and as you stepped onto the porch, you noticed a few toys scattered about.

You knocked gently on the door, and within moments, it swung open to reveal Terry with his signature grin, his dark hair tousled, and a hint of mischief in his deep-set eyes. “Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let you in.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss a movie night with my favorite people,” you teased, nudging him playfully as you stepped inside. The familiar scent of popcorn filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of laundry detergent and Terry’s signature cologne. The living room was vibrant and cluttered, a mix of family life and boyhood chaos—colorful cushions were strewn across the oversized couch, and a few action figures littered the coffee table.

“Matt is just finishing up some cereal,” Terry said, motioning toward the kitchen. You could hear the faint sound of a cartoon playing in the background, the cheerful voices of animated characters providing a lively backdrop to the evening.

“Spaghetti Monsters!” came a cheerful shout from the kitchen. You chuckled, shaking your head at the title. “I can’t believe he’s still into that show.”

“Hey, it’s a classic,” Terry defended with a grin as he led you through the small hallway into the kitchen. Matt was perched at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, his little hands clutching a spoon, and wearing a superhero cape that flapped as he bounced in his chair.

“Y/N! You came!” Matt exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. You knelt beside him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss hanging out with you guys. Did you save the world again today?” you asked, a smile spreading across your face as you took in his excitement.

Matt nodded vigorously, puffing out his chest proudly. “I fought off the Spaghetti Monster and saved the city!”

“Impressive!” you said, your eyes sparkling with laughter. “What’s the plan for tonight, then? More monster-fighting, or are we switching to movies?”

“Movies!” he declared, before shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Terry crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with an amused expression. “And what makes you think you’re allowed to stay up for a scary movie, young man?”

“Because I’m brave!” Matt replied with all the conviction of a five-year-old superhero.

“You’re brave, huh? I don’t know about that,” Terry said, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What do you think, Y/N? Should we let this brave little guy watch a slasher film?”

You exchanged a mischievous glance with Terry. “Only if he promises to keep the lights on and sleep with his cape. We can’t have any nightmares ruining our movie night.”

Matt nodded eagerly, his mouth full of cereal again. “I promise!”

As you settled into the living room with Terry and Matt, the atmosphere felt warm and inviting. The walls were adorned with family photos, capturing moments of laughter and love. Matt's little drawings were pinned up next to a chalkboard covered in doodles, and there was a sense of joy that radiated from every corner of the room. Terry’s mom moved gracefully through the space, tidying up as she glanced over at you with a welcoming smile.

After a few minutes, Terry scooped Matt up effortlessly and carried him to his room as he began to yawn, clearly fighting against sleep. “Alright, buddy. Time for bed,” Terry said softly, tucking Matt in with a gentle hand.

“I don’t want to sleep!” Matt protested, his eyes still wide with energy, but it was clear that he was losing the battle.

“You don’t have to sleep. Just rest, and I’ll come back in a little while,” Terry reassured him, planting a kiss on his forehead. As Terry left the room, you felt a swell of warmth in your chest. Watching him with his brother was one of your favorite things about him; he was so patient and loving, and it was a side of him that revealed a depth you adored.

When he returned, the couch felt emptier without Matt's bubbly energy, but it also felt like a blanket of calm had settled over the room. “Now, where were we?” Terry asked, flopping down onto the couch beside you, the cushions sinking under his weight.

“We were about to watch a horror classic!” you replied, reaching for the remote and clicking on the movie. The screen flickered to life, and the opening credits rolled, casting an eerie glow across the room.

“Just so you know, I’m totally prepared for this,” Terry said, leaning back confidently. “I’ve watched like three of these this week. I’m practically a pro.”

You shot him a playful look. “Oh, really? Just remember, if you scream, I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Please, as if I would scream,” he scoffed, though you could see the hint of challenge in his eyes.

As the movie unfolded, you both became engrossed in the plot, the tension building on screen. You could feel Terry's body tense beside you during particularly scary moments, and you found yourself leaning into him, seeking comfort. “Why do they always split up?” you exclaimed during a ridiculous scene where the characters made a dangerous decision. “That’s just asking for trouble!”

“Right?” Terry replied, laughing. “It’s like they want to get picked off one by one. I mean, who thought that was a good idea?”

The banter continued, punctuated by gasps and laughter as you both made fun of the characters’ choices. You leaned in closer as the movie reached a particularly tense moment, feeling a thrill run through you. Terry’s arm found its way around your shoulders, and you could sense the warmth radiating from him.

When the film hit a climactic moment, you gasped, instinctively clutching onto his arm. “Oh my gosh, did you see that?”

Terry laughed, his laughter warm and infectious. “You were right! That was definitely unexpected. I thought for surethat the killer was going to come from the left, not the right!” he finished, his voice filled with excitement.

You both laughed, and as the tension of the movie ebbed, you felt the comfort of the moment settle in. The glow of the screen flickered across Terry’s face, highlighting the playful spark in his eyes. He turned to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You know, I think you’re more invested in this than I am.”

“Can you blame me?” you replied, trying to sound indignant, though the grin on your face betrayed your amusement. “You might be the one who screams first.”

“Not a chance!” he declared confidently, but there was a flicker of mischief in his gaze.

As the film progressed, the mood shifted; the story grew darker and the stakes higher. You felt your heart race, and in a particularly suspenseful scene, you leaned a little closer to Terry, your shoulder brushing against his. He didn’t pull away; instead, his arm tightened around you, pulling you in just a fraction more. The warmth of his body felt like a shield against the chill creeping in through the night.

“Okay, I might scream if something jumps out right now,” he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. You could see the tension building in his shoulders as the suspense hung thick in the air.

“Let’s make a deal: if you scream, I’ll throw popcorn at you,” you offered, trying to lighten the mood.

“Deal!” he laughed, his eyes dancing with playful challenge.

The movie reached a climax, and as the action intensified, you both gasped together at a sudden scare, your fingers instinctively intertwining. You hadn’t meant to hold his hand, but the moment felt so right, as if it was the natural conclusion to the playful banter and the building tension.

Terry turned to look at you, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away—the movie, the room, the world outside. Just you and him, caught in this shared moment. “I think we both just screamed,” he said, his voice a little breathless, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe just a little.”

With a small shift, he faced you more fully, his expression softening. “Thanks for being here. I know it’s been a crazy week for both of us, but it feels nice to just… be.”

You nodded, your heart swelling. “Yeah, it really does. I’ve missed this.”

He took a moment, studying your face as if trying to read your thoughts. The warmth of his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you felt a mix of comfort and excitement course through you. “You know,” he began, his tone serious yet gentle, “you make everything feel a little less chaotic.”

“Is that so?” you teased, though his words hit home.

“Definitely. Just being around you makes me forget about the craziness, even if it’s just for a little while,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that made your heart race.

You squeezed his hand lightly, the touch electric yet soothing. “I feel the same way. You’ve got this way of making everything better, even when things are rough.”

As you both fell quiet, the movie played on in the background, the sounds of suspense intermingling with your shared silence. Terry’s thumb brushed against your hand, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, steady and reassuring.

“Can we do this more often?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence but keeping his gaze steady on yours.

“Absolutely,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d love that.”

The film’s tension faded into a gentle rhythm as you both became lost in each other’s eyes, the world outside fading away once more. As the closing credits began to roll, you realized this night was about more than just a movie; it was a moment of connection, a night to remember.

And just like that, the screen faded to black, but the warmth of the evening lingered, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, promising more nights like this to come.

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exhuastedpigeon · 7 months ago

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Not gonna lie, I've been really struggling to write since I wrote my last fic. It kind of feels like all of my writing beans left me when I posted it, but this lil game makes me really want to write.

How many works do you have on ao3? 155 (holy shit????)

What's your total ao3 word count? 682,114

What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Mostly 9-1-1, but occasionally Teen Wolf stuff

Top five fics by kudos: 1. Queer Robins Club 5246 kudos DC | Mature | 4.9k words

2. Dustin's Dad(s) 3783 kudos Steddie | Teen | 5.2k words

3. give me a sign, I want you next to me 2528 kudos Buddie | Teen | 7k words

4. let me see them tan lines 2399 kudos Buddie | Teen | 2.8k words

5. On the Ropes 2349 kudos Sterek | Teen | 5.4k words

Do you respond to comments? Yes! I try to respond to every comment!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? With a Whimper probably. It's also the only first person POV fic I've ever written lol.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Basically all of my fics have happy/hopeful endings? Maybe there ain't no turning back?

Do you get hate on fics? I have before but not recently!

Do you write smut? I do :)

Craziest crossover: Back Alley Deals is a crossover between Batman and Teen Wolf where Stiles goes to Gotham and ends up hooking up with Jason Todd.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yeah a couple times in the Sterek fandom! I don't found out because some friends found them.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A few of them have been. I'm always open to translations.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! There was a Jaytim WIP exchange last year that I took part in.

All time favourite ship? I can't pick one? Either Sterek or Buddie probably.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Right now it feels like all of them, but probably my fic affectionately titled The Repression Symphony where I go through the movements of a symphony and dive into Eddie's religious trauma.

What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue and descriptions probably.

What are your writing weaknesses? Endings are hard!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I don't really do it because I only speak English I don't want to use google translate to write it.

First fandom you wrote in? Harry Potter

Favourite fic you've written? I can't pick one!!!

give your heart and soul to charity Teen | 12.5k | Buddie Eddie finally address his Catholic trauma and guilt.

lay your cards down, down, down Mature | 6.3k | Buddie Buck and Eddie wake up married in Vegas

there ain't no turning back Explicit | 28.3k | Buddie Buddie healing road trip, my beloved

every road and every highway led me right back to your door Teen | 2.5k | Sterek A woman gives Derek a baby and then turns to mist, he calls Stiles.

it hurts to hope for more Mature | 15.6k | Buddie Buck experiences a major non-romantic heartbreak and is forced to look at his life in a new way.

Tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @wikiangela

@jesuiscenseedormir @cal-daisies-and-briars @bi-buckrights @neverevan

No pressure tagging @rosieposiepuddingnpie @inell @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns

@elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @shitouttabuck @thekristen999 @thewolvesof1998

@acountrygirlsfun @actualalligator @tizniz @rainbow-nerdss @eddiebabygirldiaz

@generatorcat @glaciya @withmyteeth @loserdiaz @monsterrae1

@spotsandsocks @underwaterninja13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @jesuisici33 @wildlife4life

and anyone else who wants to share!

#fic writer game #tagged #my fic #buddie fic #sterek fic

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faeriekit · 11 months ago

Text

“Fenton!” Mr. Graves hollered from his office upstairs. Danny, who’d been halfway through a peanut butter and banana sandwich, chewed and swallowed.

“What?”

“The police are here!” the Funeral Home director yelled back, apparently done for the day. It wasn’t as if they could scream across the building when there were grieving families in the building.

“So?”

“So they want to talk to you!”

Danny sighed, and set his sandwich aside for later. He sure hoped whoever was the last one on the slab he was borrowing had been wiped up after, or else his sandwich was about to taste nasty. “Tell them to get down here, then!” Danny called back, and hopped off the stretcher to roll his sandwich straight into cold storage.

His lunch would be fine. Probably.

And you know what? Danny was perfectly prepared for the red-headed cop to come down with a notepad and a badge and a big brown overcoat, but he fully hadn’t considered the implications of the guy following after him in a big black cape and body armor.

“Uh,” said Danny, weirded out beyond belief. “There’s a…there’s a…guy behind you.”

The cop jerked backwards to look. And then, for some reason, the guy relaxed at the sight of the most tactical cosplay Danny’s ever seen, ever. “Nah. He’s with me. You never heard of Batman before?”

Danny squinted What the hell was a Batman?

“You’re new to Gotham, aren’cha’.”

“I got this job four months ago…?”

The police detective clicked his pen. “Close enough. Listen. We need to see the John Doe you got in a few hours ago; we have to confirm the case number on the tag for an ongoing investigation. You mind letting us see the body?”

Uh oh. That was one of Danny’s…regulars. “Uh, yeah… One sec.”

Danny wiped his hands down on his apron. He walked down the line of freezers, reaching out for the handle—

“Wait,” said the big, spooky, armored furry in the corner, and wow, was his voice dark. “The body was assigned a different freezer number.”

“Yeah,” Danny admitted, and kept his hand on the freezer he had been reaching for. “I had to move it earlier.”

“Why?”

There wasn’t really a polite way to say your named corpse has preferred freezer it likes to hang out in without sounding like an absolute idiot, so Danny just shrugs. “‘Cause.”

“And you didn’t make a note of it?”

Danny frowned. “I was going to correct the paperwork after lunch. You guys interrupted me in the middle. It’s in here.”

…The cop and his giant black bat of a— friend? Coworker? …More than friends?— exchanged glances, but eventually the cop motioned for him to continue opening the storage door and wheel out their dead guy.

Fine. Finally. Danny wheeled the stretcher out, double-checked his toe tag just for redundancy purposes, and hissed as quietly as he could in the body’s ear: “Behave.”

The body, obligingly, didn’t move. Good. Maybe this would go smoothly, and everything would be totally normal and nothing would happen. “Alright, here it is. Tell me when you’re done so I can put it back.”

The cop and his pal ignored him. Whatever. Danny wheeled his sandwich back out of cold storage, grabbed it off the table, and started eating it again, because what else was he supposed to do?

And, sure, it was kind of weird to see the cop and his friend poke and prod a body Danny knew was aware and sentient, if perhaps not as visibly sapient as Danny himself was. Dead things were weird sometimes. The bodies that swarmed to him always set off his ghost sense, but never enough to actually form the freezing fog in his mouth; it was a cold mouthful of air and quiet awareness, and little else.

But they came. In their quiet moments, they stayed. And in this mortuary room perfectly kept to Danny’s most comfortable fifty degree climate, Danny watched the police guy and his buddy analyze Danny’s most recent stitch job with blue surgical gloves and stainless steel tools.

Everything went perfectly well until Danny sneezed. The cop and the armored guy both kept their attention to their task (although the police guy at least muttered something polite), but the body looked over with its big gold eyes to the source of the sudden sound.

The two men froze. Danny wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“Sorry,” he muttered , embarrassed and a little hoarse. “Allergen season. I’m fine; go back to resting up.”

The corpses, whatever they were, were endlessly obedient. The body turned its head back to its sleeping position and closed its eyes and didn't breathe, which was very convincing, but probably not convincing enough for people who’d just seen it move on its own around zero seconds ago.

“...What,” said the armored furry, voice flat as a rock.

“They’re—” Danny shrugged. “I keep trying to tell them not to freak people out like that, sorry. Last week the little one almost gave the gravedigging crew a heart attack when it popped up out of the coffin a little too early. Harris wouldn’t stop yelling at me over the phone for something like twenty minutes.” You’d think a guy would have something better to do than scream at a random mortician over the line for something that was explicitly their problem once it left Danny's tender mercies.

The cop looked at the cloaked guy. The cloaked guy looked at the cop. “And they are…?” the police investigator asked, almost politely.

Danny shrugged loudly. “What do I know, dude? I just work here. Sometimes the bodies I work on start wiggling as soon as I let go. That’s not my problem.”

The way that the two stared at him implied that they thought that yes, it was Danny’s problem, but that wasn’t his problem either!

Danny took a bit ol’ bite out of his peanut butter sandwich, crossed his legs on the cold stretcher beneath him, chewed, and swallowed.

On the open stretcher, the body clicked its tongue.

“I’m not feeding you, dude,” Danny declared. “You can’t even digest it. It’s just going to sit around until you throw it up, and then guess who’ll have to clean it up?”

The cop made a weird strangled noise, but the correct answer was Danny, that’s who.

"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."

The body didn't move.

"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."

And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.

Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.

The dead body sat up.

Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"

Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.

Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.

"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."

The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.

"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."

The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.

It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.

#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons #people have definitely done it before but this scene came to me in a vision #a horrible caffeinated vision #could absolutely be an excuse for #talon!dick #talons #dp x dc #faer fic #dpxdc

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thenerdiestmanalive · 7 years ago

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Nygmobblepot before 3x07

@gothambuddyexchange gift for the wonderful @irisbleufic!

Thanks for being such an amazing person and writer :) Happy hallowen :D

#gotham buddy exchange #gotham #nygmobblepot #Oswald Cobblepot #edward nygma #made with love <3 #mine

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britisharks · 7 years ago

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for @fictionalgrieving <3

#gotham buddy exchange #gotham #Oswald Cobblepot #edward nygma #The Riddler #The Penguin #fanart #britisharks #thebritshark #nygmobblepot

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shirl85 · 7 years ago

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Here I am with my fanart for the @gothambuddyexchange yay! :-D My buddy was @alias-afta that asked for a scene with Ivy and Oswald, chillin in an aviary-greenhouse mix with tea and hummingbirds around them! It was soo funny to wrote you during this months and organize this fanart for you, I hope you like it!

#gotham buddy exchange #alias-afta #gotham #shirl85laura #fanart #ivy pepper #poison ivy #oswald cobblepot #penguin #aviary #greenhouse #teatime #hummingbird #parrots #butterflies

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necarion · 2 years ago

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Plot points from the Ankh-Moorpork / Gotham merger:

Lady Sybil starts a charity for Gotham's sewer alligators. Vimes is quite pleased that his home now has moat alligators because it keeps the assassins away. He wishes Killer Croc would change his name. But he makes an amazing nanny for the swamp dragons and that makes Sybil happy, which makes Vimes happy.

Somehow Nobby is the most bribed officer in the watch. Nobody knows what happens to the money. But Nobby has never arrested any of the criminal masterminds so obviously it's working.

Nobby persuades Bane to join his Morris dancing group. Bane does indeed wear the bells.

Three-way antagonistic relationship between Batman/Vetinari/Vimes. Vimes knows who Batman is immediately of course. He can see through the Bruce Wayne facade toward the guy who really cares. And still hates his guts.

Wayne Manor ends up stuck right next to Vimes' mansion. This means Vimes has to get invited to all the Wayne parties. This is Alfred fucking with Vimes; Bruce can't get Vimes uninvited because Alfred goes mysteriously deaf. And Vimes can't avoid the parties because Alfred is smart enough to sent the invitations to Sybil.

Somehow Carrot ends up as Robin. Absolutely nobody is confused about his secret identity and nobody wants to do anything. He wears the traditional Robin, boy wonder, outfit. It looks exactly as you expect. There is also an unsubstantiated rumor that he's somehow the heir to like 3 different major crime families. He might also be Superman pretending to be Robin as a really bad disguise.

Instead of on Batman, the Riddler fixates on Fred Colon. Cheery Littlebottom is doing all (not very hard) riddle solving for him. Everyone involved (including Vimes, Batman, and the Riddler are satisfied with this dynamic).

Granny Weatherwax ends up visiting some week when the Joker is back on his bullshit. Things go as badly for him as you'd expect. And then Nanny somehow persuades him to move to Lancre where he is pitting himself against the Witch population and not really doing any harm to anyone anymore.

Poison Ivy gets adopted as one of the witches, who are impressed by "headology for plants". Zetanna is also a no-brainer addition to the club.

Two Face ends up retiring after attempting to bring the wizards to justice for crimes against reality. His coin keeps landing on edge. Except for the time he tries it on the Librarian. Except the Librarian picked his pocket at the start of the exchange, and starts flipping the coin in a way that (a) looks in theory like he's just admiring the shiny thing and (b) is deeply threatening coming from a 200 lb sack of muscles.

Mr. Freeze and Ponder Stibbons end up as pretty amicable colleagues.

Clayface spends a lot of time with the Golems. Nobody is sure what they get up to, but it keeps him out of trouble.

Angua has this inexplicable urge to charge straight for Selina Kyle every time they're in a room together, and is constantly growling at her under her breath. Angua doesn't notice the growling. Selina thinks it's a come-on from Angua and kinda hot. Angua is super straight and does not understand what the heck is going on, other than that she generally dislikes Selina (for her slightly shifty attitude, and that she always smells like cats). The only person who has this dynamic fully figured out is Bruce who thinks it's hilarious.

Sacharissa Cripslock and Lois Lane become correspondence buddies. William de Worde becomes self-proclamed rival to Perry White. Both of them are friends with Clark, and neither suspect anything.

Moist von Lipwig, on the other hand, meets Clark at a random party and IDs him immediately. One of these days he's going to blackmail Superman. Yup, definitely eventually. Because he's that type of scoundrel. He also has Bruce figured out, and he's not stupid enough to even *think* about trying that.

The Nac Mac Feegle end up in the Penguin's gang. This is the most serious increase in petty larceny Gotham has seen in decades.

I bet Vetinari could fix Gotham. Mostly because he would create a Supervillains Guild, then sit back and watch them destroy each other with petty in-house politics.

#Batman #Discworld

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gobblepotstew · 7 years ago

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Jimjam and Ozzy

For @gothamsgayestbird For the Gotham Buddy Exchange

Prompt: Fall Leaves for Gobblepot Halloween 2017 (felt appropriate). I hope you like it! @gothambuddyexchange

#gotham buddy exchange #gobblepothalloween2017 #gobblepot

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wittygaypuns · 7 years ago

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For @tennantxbarrowman for the @gothambuddyexchange! I'm sorry it's a little late, but I hope you enjoy. I'm gonna leave this here for ya; a little fluffy Zsaszlepot.

Title; Warmth

Word Count; 1996

Warnings; None really

Summary: Oswald is having a bad day. Zsasz is surprisingly pushy with his shows of affection.

With a gentle moan, Oswald slumped into the soft couch, arm over his face. He was so frustrated that it was actually overwhelming; he couldn't figure out of he wanted to cry or scream. That entire week had been one thing after another piling on his already burdened shoulders. Edward escaping his icy prison. Ivy disappearing without a word. Sofia Falcone suddenly appearing and taking some strange interest in him. The spiral of depression and self-loathing had not been set off by any of that, though. Perhaps it was a combination that lent to his swirling emotions, but the catalyst for his sorrow had been something which he couldn't fix, couldn't control, couldn't scheme his way out of.

His leg.

The pain had been intense and distracting that entire day, but the final straw had happened when his ankle had given out on him after his closing words on stage that night. He had stumbled, making him look drunk and weak. It was beyond humiliating, and once the patrons had been dismissed for the night, Oswald had retreated to the apartment above his club to let out his frustrations on the expensive décor of the dining room. Anything not bolted down or exceptionally heavy was torn from its spot and dashed to the ground. His fury had given way to an overbearing numbness, an internal resignation that he could never be fixed in more ways than one.

It was difficult to feel like a king when one's own body was in constant rebellion.

Dual tears slipped from the corner of his eyes only to soak into the sleeve of his jacket. A soft sob broke free from his throat. His own emotions frustrated him further; why was he allowing himself to get so worked up? He had gone through worse trials than this, and the pain in his leg had been there since he first got the injury years ago. It was a biting reminder of Fish Mooney, the mother figure whom he had rekindled a friendship with and who was subsequently killed shortly after. It was his curse.

“Penny for your thoughts, boss?” A soft voice, one that always seemed to hold a hint of amusement regardless of the setting.

“Leave me alone.” Oswald spat, arm still draped over his eyes.

“Okay.” Victor Zsasz said, but Oswald heard no steps leading away. Instead, the click of his heeled dress shoes moved closer, stopping next to the couch.

“I said leave me alone, Victor.” Oswald pulled his arm away, looking up at the bald man who towered over him, looking down without the slightest hint of judgment in his eyes.

“Leave you alone as in go away, or leave you alone as in you're too busy moping to talk?” Victor asked.

“Leave me alone as in leave me ALONE.” Oswald spat bitterly, arm moving from his face to flick a throw pillow at the man standing over him. The pillow smacked him in the chest and fell harmlessly to the floor.

“Need a hug?” Victor offered, shifting to sit down on the coffee table in front of Oswald, who balked at the question.

“A hug? Of course I don't need a hug.” Oswald was always thrown off by Victor's mannerisms. The man was bizarre, and it was strangely endearing.

“I think you do. I'm gonna hug ya, alright? C'mere.” Victor said softly.

With strong, capable hands, Victor gathered the smaller man into his arms. Before Oswald could so much as blink he had switched their positions, shifting to sit himself on the couch. Oswald ended up practically in his lap with one of Victor's arms around the middle of his back and the other holding his thighs. After a split second, he was in Victor's lap, head held to the taller man's chest. Oswald's protests seized in his throat at Victor's touch. He had removed his gloves at some point, too quick for him to have even registered the motion.

“See? Not so bad, right boss?” Victor said, voice taking on a gentle tone. One hand stroked his back in slow, tender circles as he spoke. Oswald's eyes slid shut, as soothed by the hand on his back as he was by the one that cupped his cheek in hand.

“You don't have to call be boss. Please call me Oswald. Why... why are you?” Oswald looked up, trying not to fixate on how unbelievably soft Victor's skin was.

“I'll call you Oswald when we're alone, if you want. Why am I what? Holding you?” Victor glanced down, a little smile quirking the corner of his lips.

“Yes, please. And yes to the latter as well. This is... confusing. Maybe a little embarrassing.” Oswald mumbled, though he had no intention of removing himself from the safe comfort of Victor's embrace.

“I'm holding you 'cause you seemed like you needed to be held. Everyone needs to be held sometimes. Even the King of Gotham.” Victor remarked.

“I'm not a child!” Oswald snapped, pulling away and sitting up on his lap. His natural instinct to assume an insult was meant, and anger flared up in him instantly.

“I know you aren't. But you're super stressed out, and I know you're in pain, so I thought maybe a bit of human contact might help...” Victor was almost pouting at Oswald's shift in mood, head tilted to the side. He looked a bit like a puppy, and Oswald could feel his resolve crumbling.

“What does it matter if I'm stressed out? I'm always stressed out. The pain is... negligible.” He lied; even in a private setting, in the arms of someone he had known for years, Oswald had a hard time admitting anything he saw as a weakness. Victor watched his face, hand moving towards his the focal point of his pain. Oswald recoiled from the touch, shifting uncomfortably to avoid it.

“Oswald, stop. Shh – it's okay. I'm not gonna pinch you or anything. Can I see?” Victor asked. Oswald's brain buzzed with confusion and paranoia. Why would he want to see his leg? Everyone knew it was ruined. The entire world had given him a moniker because of his walk, everyone knew he was crippled! Why would Victor need to see? Was he trying to humiliate him further?

“No!” Oswald snapped, making a move to get off his lap.

“Okay, okay. Relax, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you. I don't have any honor to swear on so I'll swear on my guns. It's just you and me, okay? If I hurt you by mistake you can punch me in the face. And that means a lot coming from me. I'm too pretty for black eyes.” Victor told him with a teasing smile.

One of his arms slid back around Oswald's lower back, resting lightly on his hip as the other hand moved carefully. Victor's gaze, usually intense, had softened as he broke eye contact and looked to his leg. Oswald wondered if he had fallen into some strange fever dream world where Victor had suddenly become something more than the unflappable assassin that Oswald could call on at a moment's notice. Maybe he was dreaming up some alternate reality where Victor was suddenly made up of some odd amalgamation of things that Oswald was attracted to. The efficiency and conviction of James Gordon, the eager nature and surprising tenderness of Edward Nygma, and the strength and simplicity of Victor Fries.

Oswald's breath caught in his throat as it occurred to him that this was no strange dream.

That was exactly what Zsasz was.

He was everything that Oswald had ever sought out in a man.

Closing his eyes, he laid his head against Victor's chest as his hand slid up the cuffs of his pant leg. Carefully he rolled down Oswald's sock, wrapping his fingers around the bared flesh of his ankle. Oswald winced instinctively, reflexively expecting him to squeeze. The tightness never came; Victor's touch was as gentle as could be, massaging his skin carefully. There was pain, but that came with the territory; the heat of his touch was actually soothing.

“Why are you doing this?” Oswald asked. He felt Victor's shoulder shrug.

“I don't like seeing you all stressed and upset.” Victor replied.

“I'm always stressed and upset.” Oswald remarked bitterly.

“No you aren't. Maybe you're always a bit stressed, but you usually handle it really well. I really like it when you're happy, running things the way you want.” Victor told him. As he spoke, he laid his cheek against Oswald's head.

“You do?” Oswald stammered, the intimacy of Victor's touch becoming all the more apparent at his words.

“Yeah. I always admired you, once you came up in the world. Hell, even after you got knocked down a bunch of times. You always bounce back, I respect the hell out of that. You're great at what you do, and...” Victor trailed off a little in a way that was wholly uncharacteristic of the usually forthright man.

“And...” Oswald urged, simultaneously hungry for praise and curious for the next thought.

“You have a really pretty smile.” Victor said.

Oswald felt as if his heart was ready to collapse under the weight of such a simple, sweet admission. He opened his mouth but found himself unable to speak.

“... Is it weird to call a guy's smile pretty? Saying you have a handsome smile doesn't sound right. I'm not great with words.” Victor muttered. Oswald could almost feel his brows furrow.

“No, it isn't weird. I- it's... incredibly flattering, actually. I don't think anyone's ever said that to me. You're doing just fine with your words.” Oswald stammered, daring to slide a hand up to rest on Victor's shoulder. He meant it; with Victor, there was no double meaning, no second guessing.

“Oh, good. Then it wouldn't be weird if I said you had beautiful eyes, right?” Victor said, chuckling softly.

“Oh, no, not at all. T-that's... that's very kind of you.” Oswald said, trying to keep his voice even as the blush rose to his cheeks.

“How ya feeling now? Any better?” Victor asked as he continued to massage Oswald's leg.

“Much... Thank you, Victor. I never knew you were such a charmer.” Oswald gave a soft sigh, hand sliding from his shoulder to rest against his chest.

“I'm not charming. I'm just honest with people I like. Sometimes it just takes a little longer for me to say things when the person I'm into seems to like every guy around but me.” Victor admitted. Oswald's eyes shot open, and he shifted to look up at him. Zsasz raised his head to accommodate the movement.

“Are you saying that you like me in... a more than friendly way, Victor?” Oswald sputtered in disbelief. Even after the affection Victor had shown, it still came as a shock to hear it outright.

“Yup. You don't have to say you're into me or anything if you aren't, I'd understand. I know you tend to go for straight cops or sexually repressed eggheads.” Victor smirked at him a little, causing Oswald's blush to deepen.

“Shut up. You aren't allowed to mock my taste in men. As for your... feelings, I... can you just hold me for now, and we can talk about it another time?” Oswald asked softly, resting his head back on his chest.

“Sure thing, Oswald. I'm not going anywhere.” Victor said.

“I know, Victor.” Oswald replied.

Oswald relaxed into his touch, allowing the warmth and security of Victor's embrace soothe him in a way he hadn't realized he needed.

#wittyfic #gotham buddy exchange #Gotham #Zsaszlepot #Oswald Cobblepot/Victor Zsasz

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oriley42 · 7 years ago

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✨ Lee, Tabitha, & Barbara ✨ >>> art for Into the Woods

[for @deletingpoint, for the Gotham Buddy Exchange!]

#gotham buddy exchange #babitha #barbara kean #tabitha galavan #lee thompkins #gotham #my art

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 years ago

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just remembered that gotham once did an extra long season finale and was almost reduced to tears but worry not! this one is the standard 45 minutes. let's get this shitshow on the road so I can know a little peace before I embark on the final season!

gotham 4x22

despite it all I remain emo about baby batcat. they love each other so much and so strangely. more than anything they just want to protect each other. Selina especially is always acting like Bruce's little knight in leather armor. she's everything to me.

as much as I hate Jeremiah I do think Cameron Monaghan's frankly upsettingly still face is very impressive there's some really spectacular muscle control happening here

as you all know I believe in the compliment sandwich method here so I'm going to say something nice: this show is actually right that the funniest possible context for Bruce and Ra's' relationship is that Bruce managed to kill Ra's one (1) time when he was a teenager and Ra's has been begging him to do it again ever since

the entire city's about to get blown up by a fucking clown and the Riddler is still trying to win a pissing contest with his situationship's ex boyfriend I hate him I hate him I hate him

you know what. fuck it. I'm throwing in the towel. Jim and Lee are meant to be together specifically and solely because they both have something in their pussy that makes the people they have sex with INSANE. but they cancel each other out and are able to be halfway stable together so that's probably best for the entire city.

do you think Lee and Riddleboy ever talk about the way he murdered her work friend and indirectly caused her miscarriage or

I'm so bored. I'm just bored of these people and their problems I am tired

never mind Barbara's past crimes are forgiven using a child to indirectly commit murder is so funny. an icon.

LEE THOMPKINS ALSO FORGIVEN FOR ALL CRIMES IN EXCHANGE FOR ATTEMPTING TO MURDER THE RIDDLER

genuinely one of my favorite pieces of Gotham canon is that the Riddler will inevitably kill all of his girlfriends sooner or later, a thing that at least two people who are romantically interested and/or sexually involved with him also treat as unquestioned fact

I think if this show was braver they would not have stopped at kissing after they stabbed each other. and quite frankly. that would have been the right call. show me something nasty I am tired.

Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot you duplicitous slut !!!!!!! I love you I'm so proud of you you scheming little bastard

LMAOOOOOOOOOOO when everyone else disappoints me Oswald NEVER disappoints me

I'm fucking crying throwing up shaking etc over Bruce leaving her side after he promised he wouldn't because he has an entire city to look after instead and he will!!! always!!! pick this wretched festering fucking city over everything!!! over his only friend who he is in love with even though he promised her!!! because he can't help it he has a burden the size of Gotham on his back and a heart so big that everything slips through the cracks. he's like sixteen this isn't fair :(

and she'll hate him for leaving and he'll hate himself but he wouldn't change his mind given the chance and she wouldn't change him. someone euthanize me. why are there seven minutes left of this episode when we've already had the perfect ending.

oh hey Scarecrow nice hat! you look good, buddy!

oh my GOD Barbara at it again with the white feminism. I'm exhausted. Barbara is unabsolved again. Barbara baby every problem in Gotham can not be traced back to "men" I hate this and you. "all the pain and greed comes from MEN" you kill people Barbara!!! you personally!!!

JEREMIAH'S GENERATOR BOMB THING POWERING THE FUTURE BAT SIGNAL WEE WOO WEE WOO I LOVE WHEN I'M RIGHT

OH MY GOD MAN-BAT???? YOU LOOK AWFUL HOMIE

alright kids I guess we're doing this. season 5 no man's land here we come.

after an intermission that wasn't nearly long enough, I bring you the final liveblog of season 4.

4x20

lmao blaze it

what in the off-brand Harley

god Cameron Monaghan's Mark Hamill is so good. rip king.

something actually extremely charming about Riddleboy still working the same team of hooligan kids and apparently just. completely and utterly trusting in their ability to pull off a prison break? and he's right, Gotham kids are built different. let the Riddler have a gang of ragamuffins they're the only people on earth who could possibly think he's cool.

I'm gonna say there's like. a 60% chance that Jeremiah's generator thing ends up being the Bat Signal or something. powering the Batcave maybe. it's gotta be SOMETHING come on.

I'm just going to be really real with you: whoever on the props team decided to put an ice cream cone and stickers on Jerome's notebook to make it look like a middle school girl's diary was right

Lee @ Jim:

today they forgot to put the Grundy makeup on Drew Powell's fingers

rip to Butch I guess but I really don't understand what he's mad about at this point. he's got all his memories back, he's fully articulate, he gets the added bonus of super strength. literally all that's different about him is that he's pale like boohoo dude life could be worse

straight up I have absolutely zero idea how old the Valeska twins are supposed to be. I thought Jerome was like ??? 19 but Jeremiah had a successful career as an structural engineer or something. Cameron Monaghan played them between the ages of like 21-26. genuinely 0 idea what the energy is here.

oh my god Jeremiah CHOKE you are so boring I hate your clown pussy. die die die die die die die. bitch you'll never be Jerome.

Jeremiah's fixation on being best friends with Bruce, who's like 17 at MOST, is not shedding any light on how old he's meant to be

I have spent. minutes. long ones. agonizing over the most comical way to present this information and the psychic distress that it has caused me. and there's genuinely nothing I can say that will gussy this up in a way that will adequately convey the pain I feel right now, so I'm just going to say it: Riddler's got a clown kink. canonically. I'm not extrapolating or exaggerating for comedic effect that was just. tossed out very casually. like a bowl of free chips at a Mexican restaurant. why. for whom. what godforsaken monkey on a typewriter pounded that one out.

Harvey Bullock and Nancy Pelosi have one (1) thing in common

hey so like. what the fuck is Echo's deal. what's going on there.

#gotham time

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