#l!joker x y/n

[these-written-reveries]

Broken Pieces

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Summary: You’re burnt-out and overwhelmed and you’ve finally hit a wall. Now, all you can seem to do is fall apart. Good thing you have a special clown who knows just how to put you back together!

‣ Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, soft!J

‣ Warnings: burn-out, overwhelm, emotional breakdown, negative thoughts, feeling like a burden, lots of tears.

‣ Word Count: 3,050

‣A/N: This is dedicated to my lovely friend, @jslittlebirdie! I told ya I’d get around to writing you something eventually! I know you’re overdue for a proper break, and while I wish I could better help you carry the weight of life’s burdens and give you the true rest you deserve, I’m limited to just how much I can do. I hope this helps, even just a little. I love you, Sukie!💜

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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Heavy sobs and messy sniffles had long replaced the silence of your bedroom as you sat curled up on the bed with your face buried in J’s pillow. You were sure he wouldn’t appreciate his pillow being soaked with your tears, but it happened to be the first thing you reached for at the start of your breakdown, his scent always helping to calm you down whenever he wasn’t around. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine him there with you. As for the tear-soaked pillowcase, you’d be sure to wash it later before he got home, whenever that would be…

Jack had been gone for a week now, unleashing his newest schemes upon the city of Gotham. This meant you were home alone, which wasn’t really a problem for you. You had a lot of your own things to do during the time of his absence, so you planned on being busy and distracted anyway. The problem was, you were already overwhelmed and burnt out before you had dived into completing these tasks, and after multiple days of trying to push yourself through your to-do list, you finally hit a wall.

Cue you curled up in a ball on your unmade bed, your salty tears staining your beloved’s pillow as you simultaneously worried about all the things you should be doing while also remaining helplessly stuck in your place. You were utterly exhausted. Yet, the cruel voices in your head continued their endless loops of degrading words, telling you that you’re a failure, a disappointment, you should be doing better, you’re never going to get anywhere if you keep sitting on your ass, why can’t you just get up and do it already?

Your hands gripped the pillow harder as you cried, feeling like there was no escape from the overwhelming hell you were experiencing. All you wanted to do was curl up in J’s arms, knowing he was the only one who could quiet your mind and make everything better.

As if some divine force had heard your yearning desire and generously granted your wish, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening, followed by J calling out to you in a singsong voice.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Instead of the usual comfort you’d feel upon hearing his voice, you suddenly felt a wave of anxiety fill your being. You couldn’t let this be the first thing he came home to after working so hard all week. Before you could think of anything else, your legs began bolting it towards the bathroom across the room. You quickly locked the door and leaned against it, closing your eyes as you tried to gain control of your breathing.

Jack had happened to see a flash of you go by as you ran to the bathroom and raised a quizzical brow at the sight.

“Hm…So we’re playing games, are we? I see how it is…”

He dropped his large purple coat and suit jacket on the edge of the bed before walking over to the bathroom door. He tried the handle, only to let out a huff once he discovered it was locked. Swiping his tongue over the edge of his scars, he glared at the wooden door that stood between him and his love. Immediately, he could tell something was wrong. You always ran to him when he got home and practically smothered him in hugs and kisses —that which he always secretly looked forward to. Never had you run away from him upon him getting home. This was enough to set his nerves on edge.

“I don’t think I like this game, doll. Open up.”

Hesitating to speak for fear that you’d give yourself away, you took a shaky breath as you stared at yourself in the mirror, trying hard to suppress the tears that continued to flow from your red and puffy eyes. You had to find a way to pull yourself together, and fast. This is not how you wanted to be reunited with your love after he returned home from such a long trip. You could talk about your problems later. For now, you wanted to welcome him home and hear about all of his latest antics that you’d only briefly heard about from the news. You loved how excited he got whenever he told you about such things. Seeing that alone would surely make you feel loads better. You quickly tried to spit out an answer, hoping he wouldn’t be too suspicious.

“S-Sorry! I’m just…g-going pee! I’ll be out in a minute!”

Jack did not buy your lie, rolling his eyes as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest. He knew you were in there crying. He could hear your muffled sniffles and unsteady breathing. It made him practically vibrate with agitation; protective alarms going off in his head as he tried to ignore the part of himself that suddenly wanted to murder whoever could’ve hurt you and focused his attention instead on getting through the stupid slab of wood in front of him.

“Sweetheart…If you don’t open this door, I’m gonna have no choice but to blow it wide open.”

“You wouldn’t do that. I’m in here…” You mumbled, your voice managing to sound a bit more stable that time. But it wasn’t nearly enough to convince him that you were okay.

Jack snorted in amusement, though his tone remained overall serious. “Don’t tempt me, doll. I will take down this door one way or another.”

You took a deep breath, a final attempt to calm down and get a hold of yourself. While you’d barely managed to stop the tears, your red and puffy eyes, along with your runny nose, were a dead giveaway that you’d been sobbing for the last half hour. Realizing you wouldn’t be able to make this disappear, as well as the fact that Jack’s patience was wearing thin, you decided to try your best to appear like you were fine and opened the door to the bathroom.

Jack remained leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed as you quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek before scurrying across the room, his eyes following your every move with close observation

“Welcome home, baby. I’m sorry; I’m really busy. I have to get this work done before the end of the day. Just give me a minute to sort through some things.” While this was an excuse, it wasn’t technically a lie. You hoped J would believe you and leave you be for just a moment so you could better compose yourself. One wrong move, and you’d be a heaping pile of tears all over again.

As you stood there, pretending to sort through the papers and notes on your desk, you could feel Jack’s footsteps growing nearer. His silence was deafening. Oh, how you hated it when he got so quiet. It always meant he was onto you.

To avoid what was to come, you began rambling about anything that came to mind, trying your best to direct his focus to anything else but you.

“How was your day? Did things go well? I saw you on the news earlier.”

“Doll…”

J was growing increasingly frustrated with the way you were behaving. He knew that you knew just how well he could read you. He had practically become an expert at understanding all of your little emotions and how best to handle them. So why were you still trying to hide from him? Surely you didn’t think he was so stupid as to fall for whatever trick you were attempting to pull on him…

“Oh, I found the tie you were looking for last week! I put it in the-”

Before you could say another word, Jack let out a growl and grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest and holding you securely in place. Carefully brushing a strand of hair out of your face with one hand, he examined your features closely. You stood frozen in place as his firm eyes softened a little. He let out a ‘tsk’, followed by a heavy sigh.

"You know I'm not a patient man, doll."

This was true, except when it came to you. Jack had always shown a lot of patience with you —as much as he was capable of giving. It remained one of the many ways he showed you just how much he cared about you. But such patience did not extend to moments like these, where you actively tried to avoid him and hide yourself from him. He hated this. It made him angry, but more than that, it made his heart ache. And he didn't like that one bit.

“M'sorry,” you muttered quietly, looking away as you felt the tears begin to fill your eyes again.

“Uh, uh. Look at me,” J ordered. Your lip quivered as you looked back at him. His eyes were much softer now as he bent down a little to reach your eye-level.

“Don’t apologize. Just tell me what’s wrong. Can you do that for me, toots? Hm?”

“If I do, I’ll fall apart,” you said, your voice cracking as you desperately held back the lump in your throat.

“I’m here. I’ll put ya back together.”

You whimpered at the soft tone of his voice, paired with his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. So badly did you want to fall apart in his arms, and now he’d given you full permission to. You could no longer resist the one thing you’d been needing during your entire time apart.

The moment you melted into his embrace, the floodgates re-opened in full-force. Jack wrapped his arms around you tightly as you spoke through your sobs, telling him all about your week without him and how much you’d been struggling. When asked why you didn’t tell him sooner, you responded by saying you didn’t want to be a bother. A bother? Jack’s brain glitched as he tried to understand why you would ever feel this way. Despite this, he remained silent as you continued to talk, and felt a twinge of pain in his chest as he realized just how much you’d needed him this last week. He felt guilty for not being there and angry at himself for not recognizing sooner the severity of your burnout and overwhelm. If he had just paid more attention, he never would have left you alone in the first place.

You could argue that you were just good at covering things up, but that wasn’t an excuse for J. He held himself to quite a high standard with you, knowing that someone like you, someone willing to ignore his massive flaws as a person and love him anyway, deserves so much more than the minimum that he could give. Jack knew he wasn’t able to give you a lot of things that he wished he could, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to find every other way he could to please you and make sure you were well taken care of. And whenever he failed to keep you happy, as presented to him in moments like these, it tore him apart inside with anger and guilt. Although he’d never tell you this, you could see the swirling emotions behind his eyes which told you all you needed to know. That he truly did love and care about you more than anything else in the world, even if he didn’t always say it.

When you were done speaking, J let out a soft coo. “Sounds like my dove had a rough week. Good thing I know just what ya need.” He pulled away from the hug with a goofy smile, the same one he always put on whenever he was trying to make you feel better.

“What?” You pouted as you wiped your eyes, playing into whatever he was trying to get at.

“A break.”

His serious response quickly turned your pout into a frown. “What? No. I already spent all day doing basically nothing. I have to-”

“Noo, you don’t. You need a break. A real one.” He took your hand and began pulling you over to the bed.

“But-”

“No buts! Except for this cute little tush parking it right here,” he said as he pointed from your butt to the bed.

You stood silently and unmoving. Jack rolled his eyes with a huff and clapped his hands insistently.

“Ahem, get a move on! Or do I, uh…have to make you?”

Knowing there was no way you could possibly win against J’s demands, you slowly climbed onto the mattress. You sat awkwardly with your legs pulled up to your chest and looked up at him through your eyelashes. J kicked off his shoes and removed his vest, tossing them both to the side. He took a glance at you and shook his head, letting out a light-hearted scoff as he loosened the tie around his neck and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt.

“Ya know, if you weren’t so dang cute, you’d be annoying. Now scooch!”

You made room for him as he climbed into bed. Once he was positioned with his back and neck supported by pillows, he turned to look at you.

“Well? What are ya looking at? Get over here,” he said, arms opened wide towards you.

Jack felt the air leave his lungs as you immediately dove into his chest, a breathless chuckle passing through his lips as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“Alright, listen up, toots. Ya can’t keep chugging along without proper breaks-”

“You do that,” you muttered into his chest.

“Ah, very funny, sassy pants…Well, you should know better than to compare yourself to me. I’m not exactly what one would call a, uh, “good example”,” he said, smirking slightly at your pouty attitude.

“Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was gonna say that ya need to take better care of yourself, doll. That pretty noggin can only take so much at once, you know. Same goes for your body. And if everything is too much and ya can’t handle it, you need to tell me. I don’t like this whole “hiding how you’re doing” schtick ya got going on. So it better stop. Oh, and you’re not a burden. Not to me. So, get that out of your head. Got it?”

You nodded and sniffled into his neck. One of his hands ran up and down your back comfortingly while the other cradled the back of your head.

“Good.” There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, this time much softer and less stern. “Ya know…If you told me sooner, I would’ve come home right away…You know that, right?”

“But there’s nothing you can do. And I didn’t want to interfere with your plans,” you spoke, your voice wavering in a way that made J’s chest hurt.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, toots. See, I may not be able to take all your problems away, but I can help where I can. Even if it’s just to make sure you get proper breaks. Or to give ya a good squeeze.” He hugged you tighter in that moment, making you giggle. Jack smiled at this, having missed the sound of your laugh up until this point. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, leaving a small trace of red paint in its place.

“You’re more important than any of my plans. You come first, doll.” He pulled you away so he could look into your eyes once more and playfully wagged his finger in your face in a reprimanding manner. “So ya better call next time. Capiche?”

“Capiche…”

“Good…Now, uh, where’s my big smooch? I can’t wait forever, ya know.”

This elicited another giggle out of you as you eagerly leaned forward and pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, you were smiling. Jack grew even softer at the sight.

“I missed you. Thanks for always putting me back together. I love you so much, J.”

Instead of responding with words, Jack showed you exactly how he felt by cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a loving kiss, followed by a bunch of sloppy kisses all over the rest of your face. You laughed, which only egged him on more. He chuckled as he continued until he felt satisfied with his work. When he finished, you had little marks of red and white paint all over your face and a big smile. Jack held your face between his hands and looked at you like he was admiring a piece of art.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. You almost melted into a puddle with how tenderly he was treating you. Heat quickly rose to your cheeks as you suddenly found yourself shy under the ardent gaze of his eyes.

Burying your face into his neck, you snuggled into him as close as you possibly could. He smelled like a mix of gunpowder, smoke, sweat, and gasoline, but you didn’t care. In fact, by now, you found this smell to be comforting —something you always missed whenever he was gone. It was a unique smell that belonged only to your J.  

You relaxed into him, allowing yourself to let go of your worries and stresses for the time being. As long as J was around, you could trust that everything would be alright. Jack would always watch out for you; he’d always keep you safe and do what was best for you. Above all else, he’d be sure to pick up all the pieces of you and stick them right back where they belonged.

As J shushed you softly while gently running his fingers up and down your spine, you surrendered to his will and drifted off to sleep, knowing that he’d have you and your worries sorted out by the time you awoke. Whatever pieces that remained would be handled together. For now, all that mattered was Jack’s slow breaths and steady beating heart as he held you tight in his arms.

No matter how many times you fell apart, he remained the only true fix, for his love was the glue that the broken pieces of your soul so desperately required.

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[montimer]

hey hey hey!! (imitates Bokuto from "haikyuu!!"). another idea! how would all the same three (L, Ledger! the joker and Arthur) react to the fact that the reader has narrow cat pupils?

this idea came to me again randomly. I just looked into my cat's eyes.

Hi, hope this is what you mean

L,Ledger!Joker,Arthur Fleck x narrow cat eyed reader

L

At first he just stares at ur eyes,then he asks you ab them.

You say you were kinda just born w/ it.

He will try to make sense out of it.

Asks you jokingly if he should give you cat food from now on

Ledger!Joker

He will probably call you cat,kitten,kitty (no matter ur gender).

He will check them out. See how ur pupils react to things.

Pets ur head to tease you.

Arthur Fleck

Stares at ur eyes

1. He wants to ask you ab them 2. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable

So he points at a cat and says "You guys have matching eyes"

Tells you they are beautiful

[junipersberries]

Dearest Y/N,

So... I thought I'd let you know that I, uh... enjoyed our little get-together last night. I was pleasantly surprised with the way you... welcomed me, you little minx.

I know you were probably scared at first, but you seem to have grown quite... attached to me...

Last night was... quite an experience. Ha. I can't tell if I enjoyed your company more than your bed, or vice versa. I had just such fun, and it was made all the more enjoyable by your... participation. Can't wait to do it all again.

I know I would certainly love to see what else we can get up to in... private. I hope you, ah, enjoyed our... little... rendezvous last night as well.

You know, it's so... rare for me to meet someone who understands me.... So don't you worry, we'll be doing this again veeery soon.

I've gotta give you credit for not playing hard to get. That's... refreshing. Not to mention all the other... things you do. Heh-heh-heh.

- The Joker

Part 15

[solelifauna]

But You Belong to Me (You Belong to Me) - (Yandere Jason Todd x Reader) (Prologue Pt.1)

When (Y/n) (L/n), resident Gotham Prep scholarship student, meets the new son of Bruce Wayne, a friendship like no other is formed. However, maybe what she's feeling is more than just what friends feel for each other. It's too bad that she never gets the chance to tell him before he, Jason, her first real friend (and real love) meets his brutal demise at the hands of the Joker.

Three years later, she finds herself still acquainted with the Bat's nightlives, comfortable monitoring them from her seat in the Batcave. The scars of Jason's death still run deep, yet, just when life starts to become a little normal, a new crime lord pops up out of nowhere.

Insert The Red Hood and his duffle bag full of heads, and he's here to collect what he was promised long ago.

Heavy rain pelts down onto your frame, coveted in all black; what a bleak day it was, but you guessed the weather was befitting the occasion. There are three other people standing next to you also dressed in black. There was a hand on your shoulder (you don't know whose though, and you can't seem to care either), most likely in place to comfort you, or to try at least, but you couldn't focus on anything else but the too small coffin being lowered into the ground.

It was mahogany, a deep brown casket with gold details, something fancy. You knew if Jason were alive to see it, he'd hate it. He likes–liked red, he would have wanted a red one. But no, he was busy being lowered into the ground instead. Tears streamed down your face but you couldn't bring yourself to wipe them. What good would it do you? It was raining anyway.

The funeral comes to a close, although you're not sure when (how) time passed so quickly, leaving Jason, your best friend, the boy you loved, buried six feet under. You don't know what to do, you don't know what you can do. You just stand there, unable to move. He's dead. He’s dead. You’ll never see him again, he’s dead. You'll never sit on the couch with him arguing over his book of the week, he’s dead. You'll never get to stay up and watch the stars with him, he’s dead. You'll never get to tell him how you really feel, he's dead.  

It's only when Bruce, his father, gently tries to guide you to the car you came in, you break. You lash out, twisting away from his hand as you trip over yourself trying to get to Jason’s headstone. Bruce and Dick, Jason’s older brother, exclaim in surprise and then follow after you. You collapse on your knees near the freshly lain dirt, sobbing with your full chest.

You could hear Bruce and Dick stop a couple of feet away from you, unable to comfort you in their own grief. That was fine though, you're not sure what you'd say or do if they tried to. They let you have your time with him, knowing it was just as difficult for you as it was for them, but as time ticks by another hour has passed and you’re still kneeling by his grave, no longer crying, but still unmoving. 

You stared blankly at his headstone, still trying to realize that he wasn't coming back. When you feel someone grab your shoulder this time, you know it's Alfred. And you know what he's going to say to you, the words you’ve been dreading to hear.

“It’s time to go Miss (Y/n).” Alfred says gently, his own voice filled with grief at the loss of his grandson.

You don't say anything, your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Alfred only sighs, before taking his leave. Good. Nobody was taking you away from here. A couple more minutes pass when you hear another pair of footsteps headed towards you. Bruce.

“(Y/n),” Bruce calls softly, yet voice still rough and raw from his own sorrow, “It’s–It's time to go now sweetie.”

You don't even turn around from where you were sitting. “No.” You say firmly.

Bruce and Alfred exchange a look. 

“Miss (Y/n),” Alfred starts, “ you’ve been sitting out in the rain all day. Wouldn't you like a change of–”

“No!” You shout out this time. You flinch back from the sound of your own voice, and you could tell Alfred and Bruce were taken aback by your behavior as well. 

With a sigh, Bruce decides that he'd come get you himself, any longer out here and you'd be sick for a week. His hands come around to grab you, to pull you up and you scream, kicking and fighting your way out of his hold.

“No! No, I wont leave him! I'm not gonna leave him! Let me go!” You cry, banging your punny fists against Bruce’s chest. He doesn't even flinch, he just holds you and lets you cry, kick, and scream. 

“Please let me go! He–he doesn't like being alone, I promised him–I promised I'd never let him be alone.” You cry out again, your voice fizzling into another sob as your fussing stops. You just stand there, slumping into Bruce’s arms, sobbing once more.

He doesn't say another word, he just brushes your tears away and leads you towards the limo where Dick was already situated. Alfred sits you down into the limo, making his way to the driver's seat. Bruce slides in next, eyes aghast and tired, clearly haunted by the loss of his youngest. Dick is turned away from the rest of you in a similar state. The car starts, heading towards the manor.

It was a silent and short ride over, nobody daring or having the strength to say anything. The vehicle comes to a stop, everyone numbly piling out the door and into the Manor. Dinner would be forgotten tonight as everyone went to their own respective places to continue grieving. Bruce, to the Batcave; Alfred, to the Library; Dick, to patrolling the streets of Gotham (knowing that if he stayed in the manor, he’d end up breaking something); and you, to Jason's room.

You crumpled onto the maroon carpet, gazing around his room, hoping that you'd see him pop up and tell you it was all a joke. But he wouldn't. You saw his mangled body. You knew that he was never coming back. What's even worse, is that you could still see Jason’s unfinished math homework lying on his desk, the paper slightly crumpled from when he would undoubtedly grip and erase out of frustration. Mrs. Delaurier’s algebra II homework would forever remain unfinished.

You promptly break into tears once more.

~~~~~~

(3 years earlier)

Chilly air swept through the halls of Gotham Prep, but you, (Y/n) (L/n),  hardly noticed as you rushed to your next class. As a scholarship student among Gotham's elite, you had learned to keep your head down, focus on your studies, and ignore the gossip that buzzed in every corner of the prestigious school.

“Crap, crap, crap!” You huffed under your breath, picking up speed to reach your next class. 

You were late, incredibly so by at least seven minutes. Sure, it isn't that crazy of an offense if you really think about it, but at Gotham Prep? As a scholarship student, you'd be crucified. Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but still, the point was there. You’re forced to break out of your thoughts when the familiar door of Mrs. Banfield’s 7th grade English class comes into view.

Practically sliding into a halt, you nervously open the door, ready for the earful and cruel laughter  you were sure to receive. You walk in, ready for the heat of Mrs. Banfield’s rage, only to find her standing at the front of the class, a boy with black hair standing right next to her. It seems you’ve actually interrupted her speaking, whoops. Everyone turns to you as you give your teacher a sheepish smile.

“Miss (L/n), so glad of you to finally join us.” She scorns, “Now please take a seat, we don't have time for dilly-dallying today.”

You just let out a meek “Yes ma’am.” and “Sorry ma’am.” as you take your seat near the windows. The desk pushed up next to you on your right remains empty, nobody in their right mind wants to sit next to the “charity case”. Well whatever, it was their loss anyway, you were awesome.

“Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” Mrs. Banfield says giving you a pointed look. You just shrink back into your seat, “We have a new student joining us today, please welcome Jason Wayne-Todd.” She continues. 

The class breaks out into excited clamor as everyone says their own rendition of a “welcome”. Of course, just what you needed, another stuck-up brat to put up with, and a Wayne too at that–god knows how far there's a stick shoved up his ass. 

“Hello everyone, I'm glad to join y’all this school year.” Jason says, giving a nice wave to the class. 

Others smile back, however, you could see their true intentions, they were only after his money and name. Your teacher says some more thing which you drown out, only to be pulled out of your day dream when you hear a mention of your name. 

“Jason, your seat will be over there by (Y/n). (Y/n) please put your hand up!” She all but yells, glaring in your direction. 

You tiredly put your hand up as Jason makes his way to you. He puts his backpack on the bag hook attached to the desk before sitting right next to you. He gives you a one off glance before he pulls out his notebook and turns his attention to the front. You glare at him. 

‘How rude.’ You think to yourself, before you do the same show of pulling out your supplies. He didn't even bother talking to you, let alone acknowledge you. What a jerk.

You huffed quietly under your breath and focused on the lesson, but the boy sitting next to you lingered in your thoughts. So that was Jason Wayne-Todd—the son of Bruce Wayne. Another rich kid who’d probably never give you a second thought, just like everyone else at Gotham Prep. You convinced yourself that it didn’t matter. He was just another asshole.

But then, a few days later, everything changed.

It was lunch period, and as usual, you sat alone. Not that you minded, really. It was quieter that way, less drama to deal with. You had found a nice spot beneath a tree, away from the main courtyard, where you could enjoy your food in peace.

You were halfway through a sandwich when you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel. You glanced up and there he was again, Jason Todd. He stood there for a moment, looking at you like he was sizing you up. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something curious.

“You always sit alone?” he asked, his voice casual but direct.

You blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah. So?"

He shrugged and then, to your utter shock, sat down next to you without asking for permission. “Guess I’ll join you then.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what his angle was. Jason Todd didn’t seem like the type to care about someone like you—someone who wasn’t from the same world as the rest of these privileged kids. But there he was, sitting with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “I mean, don’t you have other people to sit with?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, popping open a juice box with a smirk. “Maybe. But they’re all boring and stuck up rich kids”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Aren't you a—how'd you put it? A boring, stuck-up rich kid too?” You say, quoting him.

He just looks into you with his blue eyes(Jesus, how were they so blue?), confusion swimming on his face.

“I'm adopted?” He says, all but a question. How did you not know that? It's like the only thing the news and everyone at school are talking about.

“Oh,” You blank, “but you look just like him?”

“Yeah, I get that a lot, it's kinda scary how similar we look.” Is all he says.

“So you’re not just some rich asshole with a stick up his ass?”

He stares at you, expression neutral before he erupts into laughter.

“No, no, god no! I'm from Crime Alley!” He exclaims through laughter.

Your jaw nearly drops at his words. Crime Alley? The notorious part of Gotham, where crime and poverty thrived like the weeds in the cracks of forgotten streets? Jason Todd, the new Wayne, adopted into Gotham’s wealthiest family, was from Crime Alley?

Jason noticed your reaction and grinned, amused at the disbelief on your face. “Yeah, don’t look so shocked. Not all of us were born into the lap of luxury,” he said, leaning back against the tree, his juice box still in hand.

You blinked, trying to process the unexpected revelation. “I didn’t realize,” you said, more quietly now. “I just assumed—”

“That I was like all the other rich kids?” he finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

You nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t be. I get it. It’s Gotham Prep—it’s all about money and status. But I’m not like them. Never will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel intrigued by him now. He wasn’t what you thought—far from it. There was depth to Jason, a complexity that set him apart from the rest of the students. Maybe that’s why he chose to sit with you, the ‘charity case.’ He didn’t fit in either.

“You’re not like them,” you murmured, meeting his gaze. “Neither of us are.”

Jason’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he studied you for a moment. Then, he shrugged and took a sip of his juice. “Guess that makes us both the odd ones out.”

You shared a small smile with him, a strange warmth blooming in your chest. For the first time since you’d arrived at Gotham Prep, you didn’t feel so alone. Jason might’ve been the new kid, but somehow, sitting next to him, you felt a connection. Like he understood what it was like to be on the outside looking in.

And from that day on, Jason Todd became your closest friend. The two of you spent nearly every lunch together after that, sharing sandwiches and laughing at the ridiculousness of the rich kids around you. He introduced you to his world, the one he came from, telling you stories about life in Crime Alley that were equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.

 He told you stories about Bruce Wayne, about how nice he was and about his brother Dick Grayson, who doesn't really like him that much. You frowned at that. How could anyone not like Jason? With his pretty blue eyes and warm smile, his rambunctious laughter and humor, his kindness and—What the hell was wrong with you?

Anyways, you in turn told him about your family. How you were an only child, how you used to have a pet dog named Pudgy, how both your parents worked all day and every day, leaving you with enormous amounts of free time. They weren't neglectful, or at least they weren't on purpose, but they needed to make money. Your family wasn't living in poverty, but you would be if your parents didn't take on the crazy hours they did.

So you understood. Sure it sucked, but what could you do? Besides, it wasn't all that terrible; when your parents did have free time you’d spend the day laughing in the kitchen with your mom or fixing something in the garage with your dad. You knew they loved you, and that was all that mattered. 

Over time, Jason slowly introduced the idea of you hanging out at his house. The first time he asked, you refused, saying how you didn't want to intrude or be a bother (much to Jason’s dismay and Alfred’s amusement when Jason would complain about your stubborn behavior). But of course, there were only so many times you could refuse Jason's begging and puppy-dog eyes, and before you knew it, you were being picked up by Alfred Pennyworth in an expensive limo that you didn't even know the name of.

That first ride in the limo was surreal. You had tried to focus on anything but the fact that Alfred Pennyworth was sitting just a few feet away from you, his calm, dignified presence making the luxurious car feel even more intimidating. Your heart pounded in your chest as the car wove through Gotham’s bustling streets, and you found yourself fidgeting nervously with your hands.

“Are you all right, Miss (L/n)?” Alfred asked, glancing at you in the rearview mirror.

You startled at the sound of his voice, managing a small, sheepish smile. “Y-Yeah, I’m just not used to all this. I’ve never been in a limo before.”

Alfred’s expression softened, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, I assure you, Master Jason and Master Bruce will be pleased to have you. No need to be nervous.”

But how could you not be nervous? You were about to step foot inside Wayne Manor. The home of Gotham’s most powerful, wealthy family.

What if you broke something?

What if Bruce didn't like you?

What if he doesn't like you so much that he tells Jason he can't be your friend anymore? Your thoughts continue to devolve into frantic “what ifs” as the drive continues.

When the car finally pulled up to the massive iron gates, your stomach twisted into knots. You stared out the window as the gates opened slowly, revealing a grand driveway that led up to the imposing structure of Wayne Manor itself. It was bigger than you’d imagined—an intimidating, sprawling mansion that looked more like a castle than a home.

You swallowed hard. Jason lived here?

Alfred parked the limo and got out to open your door. You stepped out slowly, feeling incredibly small as you gazed up at the manor. Before you could fully comprehend your surroundings, the front doors of the manor burst open, and there he was, Jason, running toward you with that infectious grin on his face.

“You finally made it!” Jason called out, his voice filled with excitement as he approached. He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the house, practically dragging you up the steps. “Come on, I’ve got so much to show you.”

“Jason, slow down!” you laughed, feeling your nerves start to ease a little in the face of his enthusiasm. He always had a way of making you feel comfortable, even in situations as intimidating as this.

As you crossed the threshold into Wayne Manor, you were struck by just how massive it was inside. The ceilings seemed to stretch endlessly above you, the halls adorned with intricate chandeliers and elegant artwork. It was the epitome of wealth and luxury, but it didn’t feel cold or lifeless. There was warmth here, in the way the soft light filtered through the grand windows, and in the way Jason moved through the space like it was his own.

“Whoa,” you breathed out as you took it all in. “This place is huge.”

Jason laughed. “Yeah, it’s a bit much, huh? I didn’t know what to do with myself when I first got here. But you get used to it. Come on, I’ll show you my room.”

You let him lead you through the grand corridors, trying to keep your awe in check. As you passed by one of the doors, you spotted a tall, dark-haired man walking by—Bruce Wayne himself. Your eyes widened, and you froze for a moment.

Bruce glanced your way and offered a small, warm smile. “You must be (Y/n) (L/n),” He says, reaching his hand out for a handshake. You nervously reach out and shake his hand. “ Jason’s talked a lot about you.”

You blinked, stunned. “H-He has?”

Bruce nodded, his expression becoming one of amusement as Jason blubbered behind you. “Oh yes, he never really stops actually. So it’s nice to finally meet the person who–���

“Okay! That's enough dad, we’ll see you later!” 

You could see a tint of red on Jason's cheeks, clearly embarrassed by his dad, as he dragged you towards his room.

Finally, you reached Jason’s room. It was more modest compared to the rest of the house, filled with a mix of personal items that spoke to his life before and after Wayne Manor. Posters of action movies and comic books adorned the walls, and his bed was piled high with mismatched pillows and blankets. It wasn’t neat, but it was cozy. It felt like him—chaotic, comfortable, and completely unpretentious.

“Welcome to my domain,” Jason announced with a grin, flopping onto his bed and patting the space beside him.

You sat down next to him, finally letting out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The day continues like it was normal, with you and Jason playing games of hide-and-seek, tag (much to Alfred’s displeasure), and some video games in the playroom. The day comes to a close as Jason drags you down for dinner, saying how “There's no better cooking than what Alfie makes.” 

You’re bound to disagree until you take your first bite of food. You turn to Jason, fork halfway in your mouth, with a look of pure bliss in your eyes. He meets your gaze with a smudge expression of “I told you so.” Bruce just watches fondly, glad that Jason is adjusting and glad that he has a friend he is comfortable with. You were a sweet girl, Bruce concurred, and with what Jason told him about your family’s situation, he was more than happy to have you around. 

Soon, you were parting ways with the Waynes for the night, Jason giving you a big hug whilst Bruce relayed to you that you were welcome over any time. On the drive back to your house, Alfred tells you how thankful he was that someone “as kind” and “lovely” as you had come into Jason's life. A blush blooms on your face as you squeak out an embarrassed “No problem Mr. Pennyworth.”

The months continue on as you and Jason head into 8th grade, finally having more classes together in your schedules. The days were seemingly normal as you continued to spend time at Wayne manor, now becoming more comfortable with Bruce and Alfred; you spend time in the ginormous library as Jason helps you with your English homework and you help him with math or simply chill in Jason's room or by the pool. 

Things take a weird turn one day when Jason comes to school more tired than usual. He looks like he's been run ragged, a couple of purple bruises on his arms. You worriedly fret over him as he laughs saying he just fell down the stairs. Your jaw drops as you turn on him for being so stupid.

However, the bruises never stop. But that's not the only new thing, Jason looks bigger. He's got new muscles and everything and he's also gained more inches over you. As much as his new physique makes you blush, it worries you that he continues to come to school for the next three months, tired and aching, continually avoiding all your questions and being secretive. You hate to admit that his secrecy hurts more than you wanted to realize. 

In the far back of your mind, your suspicions lead to Bruce. You liked Bruce, he was fun, he was nice, and you really couldn't imagine him doing something like this to Jason. He loved Jason. So, you let the thought fade. You knew Bruce would rather kill himself than ever lay a hand on Jason. But still, something was going on. Not long after, big news spread through Gotham. Headlines like “Return of Robin!” or “Batman’s New Sidekick!” are all the rage. You never cared much for the vigilante stuff, but even you had to admit Batman was cool, but his new Robin? Well–

Jason casually brings it up on day during one of your regular dinners. You’re busy shoveling noodles into your mouth when Jason asks you something.

“So (Y/n), I never really got to ask, but who's your favorite superhero?”

Unbeknownst to you, Bruce and Alfred share a knowing look before turning their attention to you. Yes, Bruce was curious too.

You think for a minute before coming up with your answer.

“Hmmm, if i had to pick, I’d say Batman.” 

Bruce grins in a silent victory whilst Jason scowls.

“What!? Why him?!” He all but yells.

“Well don't you think it's cool that he still fights even though he has no powers? Plus, he dresses up as a bat, I like bats, they’re cute.” You say.

Bruce just lets out a small, thoughtful “huh” as he continues eating.

“But seriously, Batman??” Jason questions incredulously.

“Well, if you want me to be completely honest, Batman isn't my actual favorite. My real favorite superhero, well, everyone says that he doesn't count ‘cause he's a sidekick, so.”

“Well pray tell, who is your real favorite Miss (Y/n)?” Alfred now asks as he picks up some empty dishes.

“It's Robin of course!” You say smiling. Jason proceeds to spit out his water and Bruce chuckles.

You glance worriedly at Jason.

“Are you alright Jay?”

“Y–yup! Now what was that about m–Robin?”

“Oh yeah, he's super cool bro! He fights side by side with Batman, and he took down Ivy all by himself, and he’s super cute too.” You gush, unable to help yourself.

Jason’s face bursts into red as he stammers about how he's suddenly full. Bruce continues to smile like a cat that just caught a canary.

After you head home, Bruce continues to tease Jason, resulting in a multitude of pillows being thrown at Bruce's face. 

~~~~~~

You only come to discover Jason's secret about five months later, completely by accident by the way. It was a school event, a student showcase. The halls of the venue were filled with kiosks and booths where parents could see and celebrate the accomplishments of their children. Yet again, you found yourself at your section alone, standing in front of a painting you had made.

It had won second place, a blue ribbon tapped to its side and you were so proud of yourself. You knew your parents were too, they had told you themselves, but unfortunately, they wouldn't be able to make it. That's okay though, you knew they were working their tails off so that they could provide for you. A missed school showcase was the last thing they needed to worry or feel guilty about. Besides, it wasn't like you’d be completely alone, Jason, Bruce, and Alfred would be here soon.

With that, you continued thanking the random people who congratulated you on your placement, waiting for Jason and his family to show up. Of course, that's when disaster struck. An explosion goes off in the cafeteria as you get thrown back from its force. Your ears ring as you hear muffled screaming and cries, smoke making your vision blurry with tears.

You cough, trying to pick yourself off of the ground, a burning pain shooting through your leg as you do so. You sluggishly look down (god your head hurts) only to be met with blood all over your right leg. Jesus, that was a lot of blood. So much in fact, you couldn't even really make out what your injury looked like.

Tears flow down your face at the pain. God, everything hurt, but you needed to get out of here. Wait–oh no, Jason! You didn't know where he was! You pray that he was still on the way over when the explosions went off. With a sharp cry, you begin limping towards an exit, trying to stay conscious and on your feet with all the chaos going on around you. People push and shove, trying to get out but you just grit your teeth and fight to stay standing because you knew that if you went down, you weren't too sure if you'd be able to get back up. 

Through the cacophony of screams and explosions, you realize that a fight is happening. You see the familiar figures of Batman and Robin battling with the ever terrifying Joker. Another explosion rocked the venue, shaking you out of your thoughts as debris fell around you. You barely managed to avoid a chunk of falling concrete, throwing yourself against the nearest wall, the pain in your leg intensifying as you cried out. You needed to get out of here. 

You try to move, you really do, but you can't get your leg to work. You collapse near a wall, clutching your leg in pain trying to get the bleeding to stop. Someone help me. Someone–anyone.

You’re crying now, your sobs being buried under the chaos of the battle. You sit there for god knows how long, praying that it ends, the screaming, the explosions, the carnage. You want it all to stop. And it does. The Joker is caught and shipped off to Arkham Asylum as Batman, Robin, the police, and paramedics start sweeping through the rubble. However, right now, there's only one thing running through Robin’s mind.

He has your location pulled up, thank god he gave you that bracelet with a tracker. He knew it’d lead him to you, you always wore it. He could hear Batman telling him to slow down but he couldn't bother to listen. He has to find you. 

When he does, his heart breaks. You were curled up against a crumbling wall, hands and legs covered in blood as tears marred your now grime and dust ridden face. His mind went blank, panic rising in his chest as he sprinted toward you, the world around him fading into background noise. Nothing else mattered right now—only you.

He fell to his knees beside you, his hands shaking as they hovered over your body, unsure where to touch, where to help without hurting you more. You blinked up at him, eyes unfocused and wet with tears.

“Robin…” Your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but the relief in your tone was unmistakable. You reached out, your hand trembling as it found his. 

“My friend…I have a friend, Jason–Jason Todd. Find him please–he's still out–” You’re unable to finish as you break out into a coughing fit.

Jason’s heart stopped at the sound of his own name leaving your lips. Here you were, injured and bleeding, worrying about someone else. His chest tightened as he watched you struggle, your blood-stained hand trembling in his grasp, pleading for help that he had already given. He wanted to tell you—needed to tell you—but now wasn’t the time.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice cracking despite the mask. “I’m right here.”

You blinked through the haze of pain, your brow furrowing in confusion. “No... I meant Jason, he—he’s still out there—”

Wait a minute, that voice–you knew that voice. You’ve heard it a thousand times, every day. Jason. That was Jason's voice. You don't care if you were probably concussed, you knew his voice.

“J–Jay?” You slurred out, trying to get closer to him. Robin freezes, Jason freezes. You recognized him.

[All right folks, that's it for part 1 of the prologue. I hope you guys enjoyed it, expect part 2 soon! I want to preface two things though: 1.) The reader is not adopted/going to be adopted by Bruce 2.) The 2nd part of the prologue will still be taking place as a flashback. You won't get into the actual main plot till chapter 1.]

[scealaiscoite]

poly fluff alphabet ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱

a = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? when it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what?

b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements - does anyone like to sleep alone?

c = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how do the rest look after them?

d = dates; what do dates look like? who usually plans them, or are is it a group affair?

e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?

f = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved?

g = getting together; how did it all come about? were there any pre-existing relationships between them?

h = hobbies; does anyone share any hobbies/passions? how do they include the rest of their partners in them?

i = in sickness and in health - when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after?

j = joker; who’s got the best sense of humour? do they like to tease and banter with everyone else?

k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partners?

l = lavish; is there anyone who really likes to treat their partners/show them off? how do the rest tend to react - who revels in it, and who’s made shy by it?

m = memories - is anyone more on the sentimental side?

n = nights; what’s the nighttime routine like when they’re all together?

o = open; how open is everyone with one another?

p = pda; what’s pda like with them? is there anyone who loves it, and anyone who’s less fond of it? what actions/words does it manifest as?

q = quiet; who prefers to spend their time with their partners out and about, and who likes to spend it at home?

r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partners?

s = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners?

t = terms of endearment; nicknames! who’s crazy on them, and who do they make cringe? what’re the go-to’s?

u = urge; who’s the most impulsive? who do they loop into their plans, and who entertains their antics?

v = vacations; how do holidays go? are they big exotic trips, or the occasional staycation?

w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?

x = xoxo; who checks up on their partners a lot when they’re apart? do they call, or are texts enough to make them feel close?

y = yearn; who misses their partners the easiest (ie, calls them to hear their voices when all they’ve done is run to the grocery store)?

z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? was anyone more reserved in their want for it?

[arjudy224]

Chemical Valley

(The Intern x Red Hood)

After the unsettling reminder of her past, Y/N has been avoiding vigilantes for the last few months. However, Dr. Harris has requested backup in the form of Gotham's newest crime lord. What could go wrong?

The Intern Collection:

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I'm getting real sick of risking my life for a minimum-wage job. Driving around with Dr. Harris is one thing, but since when did the job description list teaming up with crime lords? I mean it's the Red Hood for Christ's sake. Dr. Harris gives me a protective smile from the driver's seat.

"Don't worry about Red Hood. He knows what he's doing." He starts sensing my apprehension. "Besides, he owes me a favor."

I nod with a nervous smile. Red Hood is the only vigilante that I've never interacted with. He only recently appeared in Gotham. From what I've heard on the streets, he isn't exactly on great terms with Batman.

"All due respect... hasn't he killed people? " I question glancing around the lonely alleyway.

Growing silent, Harris contemplates his response.

"Not recently." He says with what is supposed to be a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Trying to ignore the anxiety creating knots across my gut, I reply with more enthusiasm than I feel.

"Oh well... that's progress."

Harris laughs.

"It's Gotham dear. It's hard to find someone who hasn't committed murder. I wouldn't worry too much about the Hood though. If you can befriend Waylon, a little boy in a helmet is the least of your worries. "

I raise an eyebrow.

"You wanna elaborate?"

He smiles sweetly. I narrow my eyes.

"Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

That shuts me up. We sit in silence for a few minutes while I contemplate what he just said. Dr. Harris isn't exactly wrong... Glancing at the time clock on the dashboard, I frown. I guess vigilantes aren't known for being punctual, but at least Nightwing was on time. Considering our history, maybe we were both eager to see each other again. I try to focus on the cool air dusting across my face.

A swift knock causes me to jump. The infamous Red Hood almost cartoonishly waves at me from the outside the window. My nervous heart patters like a hummingbird. Eyeing his bike, I sigh. It was silent... Of course, it was silent. What kind of muffler does he have on that thing?

Harris rolls down the window.

"Good morning. Thank you for meeting us."

Leaning on the car door, Red Hood asks in a deep voice

"What do you have for me Dr.?"

"Routine inspection of Ace chemicals. Normally, I wouldn't worry about having a backup, but with an uptick in Joker sightings... I figured it would be better to be safe than sorry."

Hood nods, then glances in my direction.

"I'll keep an eye out."

"Y/N L/N," I say introducing myself, "But most people call me L/N."

"Weren't you the one who convinced the Riddler to let you go in exchange for inspecting his lair for asbestos?" Hood asks with a tone of pride.

I smile while shaking his hand. Word must get around quick.

"Yeah, that's me. He didn't even ask me any riddles. The poor man was terrified."

Dr. Harris whips his head around.

"Why haven't I heard about this?" He demands.

I flash him a shit-eating grin.

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to Dr. Maybe Metropolis hasn't made me so soft after all."

Before he can start lecturing me, I step out of the car to face my new bodyguard. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground. I sidestep the hulking mammoth of a man.

"Thank you for dropping me off Dr., but I'm sure "Little" Red and I can take it from here."

From the Driver's seat, Harris watches me with a hint of pride.

"This is not the last time we will be discussing this."

"I look forward to the debrief," I remark as he pulls away.

The ACE chemicals manufacturing plant towers over the surrounding buildings. The smoke stacks excrete a dark sticky aerosol that trickles down from above. Its gothic structure makes it look like something out of a Tim Burton film. Taking a step near the external shutter, I drag my index finger across. My glove smears a damp power off revealing the old white paint. An uncomfortable sensation settles in my chest.

There is no way this amount of air pollution is legal.

After my second round of coughing, Red Hood offers me a disposable face mask. I gratefully take it. The neon green sign serves as a haunting reminder that somehow this has passed inspection. My eyebrows narrow. We passed several kids on the way here. What does that do to someone? No wonder Dr. Harris mentioned childhood asthma. I'm more concerned about the long-term exposure to industrial solvents.

Glancing at Red Hood, I state

"There is no way this is legal."

Red Hood stays quiet for a moment. Adjusting his helmet, he replies

"The law can be anything you want as long as you kill the inspectors who challenge you."

My mouth falls open. A thousand questions flood my mind.

"Somebody must have tried."

Hood tilts his head while glancing between us and the doors.

"Somebody did try."

Tossing me a key card over his shoulder, he continues, "You can visit them in Arkham if you want."

I flounder to catch the key card. It takes a few moments to register his words. Them as in more than one? Or is he concealing their identity? By the time my brain focuses, I stand in the alley alone staring up at a sign for a trading card company.

Isn't that where the Joker.... Oh hell no...

Stumbling through the stained doors, a bubbly man contrasts the bleak external welcome. As he rambles, I analyze the faded posters nailed to the wall. Dr. Harris briefly mentioned the factory's history of producing bioweapons during the Second World War. Hazardous feels like an understatement. I nodd along with the pleasant man, yet something in my gut tells me to keep my eyes and ears open.

Walking past a dust cloud, my lungs contract. Unable to steady myself, I sneak down a back hall to take my inhaler. The rambling man continues down the other hallway completely oblivious to my absence. I tear the disposable mask off my face. Searching my pockets for the familiar medication, my heart drops. Of course, I left it in the car.

I sink into a seated position once the dizziness sets in. Do. Not. Panic. We cannot do that again. No more emergency room trips. A pair of boots emerges from the shadows.

"Are you alright?"

I nodd while focusing on each labored breath.

"Sometimes, I really hate this city." I wheeze clutching my chest.

Red Hood lets out a dry laugh before taking a seat next to me.

"I have something that might help, but you have to trust me."

A small inhaler makes its way into my left hand. Squinting, a small Bat engraving stares up at me. I give him an incredulous glance. There is no fucking way that Batman has a pharmacy.

"It works. I promise."

Reluctantly, I take two puffs. We sit in silence for a few minutes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I relish the first full breath of air in days. My lungs expand completely. It is glorious.

"How is your friendship with Killer Croc?"

The immense pain that weighs on my chest lessens slightly.

"I'm sure Waylon wouldn't use the word friend. "

I open my eyes to look at him. Spots litter my vision. The sticky residue has left grime all over his mask. I hesitate.

"Waylon has lost everything... Everyone really. All he really needed was a friend."

Hood stays silent weighing out my words.

"What factory did they make you in?" He questions.

I can almost hear a smile in his voice.

"The same one that kicked you out for defects." I retort staring at the white paint peeling on the far left wall.

Considering the age of this building, I really hope that's not lead paint.

"Touché, Ms. Friendship. Touché"

I give him a friendly shove.

"You know, you aren't as bad as your reputation suggests."

He laughs climbing to his feet.

"I wouldn't go that far. Usually, I'm a dick."

"Better a dick than a sociopath," I say dusting off the black power on my pants.

"Damn Metropolis. Who have you been talking to?"

I shrug.

"It's Gotham. "

After a few moments of friendly silence, he asks

"You ready to find Mr. Optimistic?"

I nodd allowing him to pull me to my feet. Enjoying the comfortable silence, I open the door for him once we make it down the hall. To my surprise, Red Hood slams me against a wall before covering my mouth. Paralyzed in shock, I don't fight him. The Red Bat insignia stares at me. The soft aroma of his cologne catches me off guard. It's nice. Very musky. There's something so... familiar about it. I suddenly feel my face go red. There is no way I am evaluating how good a CRIMINAL smells. Get a grip girl.

Ignoring my mental crisis, Red Hood leads the two of us out the back door. Stumbling out the door behind him, I bend over holding my knees for stability. This is a lot of cardio for a regular inspection.

"What the hell was that about dude?" I hiss in between breaths.

Red Hood doesn't say anything.

"I know you are trying for the strong and silent type, but I think this partnership would benefit from open communication."

Standing up tall, a gunman aims a pistol directly at my temple.

Oh.. That's why.

Tag list: @nosyrobin, @jjsmeowthie, @epicy0n,@gaychaosgremlin, @rory-cakes, @luna-zendra-star

[anyca786]

Press Conference

Platonic!Marvel cast (Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Benedict Cumberbatch, Anthony Mackie, Tom Hiddleston) x actress!reader

Summary: When a notorious press member became too personal,your marvel family stood up for you.

The flashbulbs exploded in synchronized bursts as you entered the Endgame press conference, the air thick with anticipation. You, the newest member of the MCU family, were the talk of the town, and tonight, all eyes were on you.

The lights dimmed, a hush fell over the packed auditorium. All eyes swivelled towards the entrance as the press conference host boomed, "Let's give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N, our newest addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe!"

Chris Evans, seated beside Benedict Cumberbatch, couldn't help but steal a glance, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Sebastian Stan, across from him, mirrored the sentiment, his gaze lingering a beat longer. Tom Hiddleston, ever the gentleman, offered a small, knowing nod, while Anthony Mackie, your on-screen partner, winked playfully, muttering, "Ready to steal the show, Y/N?"

After introductions and greetings, everyone settled into their assigned sofas, you positioned amongst the Avengers heartthrobs. The press conference began, questions flying thick and fast, your name met with excited murmurs and camera clicks.

You settled onto your designated sofa, a nervous flutter in your stomach. But as the press conference began, you found your rhythm, your wit and intelligence shining through your responses. Your laughter filled the room, captivating not just the audience, but also the men around you.

Their gazes, once discreet, became bolder. Chris leaned in, his smile widening with every insightful point you made. Benedict chuckled at your witty retort, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. Sebastian's lips twitched, and Tom offered a thumbs-up, his smile tinged with a hint of something deeper. Even Anthony, usually the joker, seemed captivated, his gaze lingering on you with newfound respect.

Then, the atmosphere shifted. A reporter, notorious for his inappropriate remarks, directed his attention solely at you, his motives seemingly more personal than professional, began peppering you with flirtatious questions, his gaze lingering a little too long on your figure. The room grew tense, and you could sense a change in your fellow MCU stars. Chris's normally relaxed posture stiffened, his jaw clenching imperceptibly. Sebastian's smile vanished, replaced by a steely glint in his eyes. Tom, even Tom, seemed to radiate a cool disapproval.

"Y/N," the reporter drawled, his voice dripping with insincerity, "you're absolutely captivating. Tell us, does playing alongside such handsome co-stars come with any perks?"

Benedict leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper, "You don't have to answer that, Y/N. He doesn't deserve your attention." His words, laced with a quiet intensity, sent a wave of gratitude through you.

You gave him a polite smile, your response witty and deflecting. But you saw Chris clench his jaw, and Sebastian crossed his arms, a scowl forming. You appreciated their silent show of support, focusing on the next question.

However, the reporter persisted. "Come on," he pressed, "surely there's some juicy behind-the-scenes romance brewing..."

Before you could even formulate a reply, a chorus of voices interrupted.

Suddenly, Chris interrupted, his jaw clenched, stood up, his voice low and dangerous. "Excuse me, but your line of questioning is overstepping boundaries."

Anthony, equally protective, rose, his voice booming, "Show some respect, man!"

Benedict, ever the diplomat, interjected, "Let's keep things professional, shall we?"

Sebastian, his eyes narrowed, added, "We won't tolerate any further disrespect towards Y/N."

Tom, ever eloquent, finished the thought, "Her talent speaks for itself, no need for cheap tactics."

The reporter, flustered and intimidated, stammered an apology, slinking back in his seat. You sat there, speechless, the warmth of their protectiveness washing over you.

The press conference continued, but the mood had changed. The air buzzed with a new energy, a silent understanding between you and the men around you. You were no longer just the newest star; you were their colleague, their friend, and they would fiercely protect your place in their universe.

Later, after the formalities were over, Chris approached you, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry about that," he muttered, "we don't take kindly to anyone disrespecting our team."

You smiled, touched by their protectiveness. "It means a lot," you admitted, "having you all have my back."

A comfortable silence settled between you, before Chris chuckled. "Besides," he winked, "who wouldn't stand up for someone as brilliant and beautiful as you?"

Your cheeks flushed, and you laughed, the warmth in Chris's eyes making your heart skip a beat. Maybe being an Avenger wasn't just about saving the world, but also finding a new kind of family, one that protected you not just from villains, but also from inappropriate reporters and perhaps, even budding feelings.

And as you looked around at the smiling faces of your co-stars, you knew you wouldn't trade this experience for anything, even if it meant facing a few intrusive questions along the way. After all, who wouldn't want to be protected by Earth's Mightiest Heroes, both on and off screen?

Please suggest anything related to marvel characters, cast or actors. I'm very new to this, I just started yesterday *cries*

[teewritessmth]

#Instagram Au (25)

(Kenny x f! reader)

Liked by nikoomilana, georgeiswise and 215,211 others

y/n.y/l/n Happy birthday to my boy kenjamin

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kingkennytv ur uglier 🥰😘

nikoomilana happy birthday brother 🙌

darkestman he's a quarter of hp's age now 💀

--- harrypinero you know you've completely ruined my life with this joke right? 😭

mariashabeel yo who the hell tied him up in the last slide

--- gxix I did 😈

Liked by gymshark, deji and 519,009 others

y/n.y/l/n been my sparring partner since day 1, I owe you big time @oingkennedy

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kingkennytv get my name right at least once u joker

teewritessmth NAAAAAH OING KENNEDY IS A FUCKING VIO

ajshabeel that's not your hoodie?

ohnosharky y/n that is kenny's hoodie

mayajama BABES YOU MIGHT HAVE A LITTLE WARDROBE PROBLEM

--- chunkz the whole mandem in these comments worked up about her wearing kenny's clothes where Kenny stole that hoodie from me

Liked by vikkstar123, kaicenat and 786,101 others

kingkennytv Fucking hell I fell in love with her 😭

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chunkz bro chat to me how did this happen

yungfilly I saw it coming 😛

ajshabeel their kids are gonna have the worst hairline

gxix I think I just heard my heart snap. Kenny.. You were supposed to be MINE

--- nia who let her out bru

--- teewritessmth ✋

y/n.y/l/n Kenny boy 😈

--- kingkennytv 😭🖐

.

.

.

I fucked up my exam today, but that won't stop me from posting.

[j0kers-light]

what if y/n was an airhead... not necessarily super dumb but a little slow or ditzy... and a little dumb. but also very positive and carefree. basically a golden retriever type of person 😂 i just wonder what j would think about that 😂

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

Oh this is gonna be fun. 🥰 I love doing reaction head canons! Let’s GO!!!!! Don’t ask why I’m still up at 2am. I hope you enjoy anon!

The first time that Joker met you, he wanted to slash your throat so bad. How are you so positive and carefree? There's no way you're like this 24/7.

You are. Gods you really are. Joker questions your mental state because you are too kind to others and your naivety is so pure, you are considered a national treasure. He wants to taint you. Point. Blank. Simple.

How are you so joyful? Do you do drugs? You're always smiling, offering up words of encouragement, and soooooooo many hugs to strangers. You are wayy too bubbly for J's tastes.

Too often you remind Joker of his ex Harley and he refuses to do that all over again. He considers breaking up with you because you're just so... ditzy.

Your attention span is that of a goldfish, and you literally stop to smell the roses while out and about. You even play peek-a-boo with children you see on the street. End his misery please. 😭

But despite the constant headaches you give Joker, he can’t seem to stay away. He’s addicted.

Frost and the boys stare at Joker in horror when you visit the hideout (unannounced) with a basket full of baked goods; blissfully unaware that a goon almost shot you for trespassing.

This is the girl their boss is dating?!!?!? HOW? It’s giving peak grumpy x sunshine energy because you and Joker do not compute.

BUT. IT WORKS. The laws of the universe bend to make it happen and Joker cannot thank them enough for placing you in his life. He wouldn’t be the same without you.

You know you can be an airhead at times but Joker reins in your overly bubbly persona. He's always looking out for you and not allowing anyone to make you into a pushover.

In return, you encourage and offer Joker the love and support he secretly needs while quelling his more violent tendencies.

You calm his anger. He keeps you focused. 🔥✨

You're still his Light although it stands for Sunlight in this scenario and you get a sun tattoo behind your ear in honor of it.

Joker is grateful that you are nothing like Harley. Yes you can be annoying at times but you mean well in the long run.

Its not just obsessive loyalty and toxic love; you genuinely care about Joker and you push him to become a better man every day.

And the feeling is mutual. Joker does not tolerate anyone making fun of his sunlight. He kills anyone who insults your intelligence and anyone that makes you cry, mysteriously disappears.

Joker is the only one who can call you silly or dumb because it’s not an insult when J says it. 🥹

You giggle anytime he calls you silly girl or his dumb little slut. AND l OOP! SORRY ! I forgot this was sfw!! 👀👀 MOVING ON 👩🏽‍💻

Speaking of you barging into the hideout with baked goodies. That actually happened.

Everyone was shocked when you knocked on the door with a loud, "HELLLLLOOOOOOOO! J are you in there? I brought snackies!"

No one knows how you navigated this deep into Joker’s territory without being murdered. No one knows how you bypassed the building’s security.

You just waltz in like you own the place, bringing an aura of joy and happiness in your wake.

Joker was in an important meeting, discussing how to eliminate a rival popup gang when he heard your heels clicking down the hall. He knows that sound from anywhere and his face turns white.

A goon is right behind you threatening you to leave or else, when you just causally walk into the meeting room, blissfully unaware of the danger you are now in.

Do you even notice all the guns trained on you? Nope, you only have eyes for Joker. You stop yourself from tackling him with a hug.

"There you are J! Oh. Are you busy? Well not anymore!! I baked muffins, and cookies, and oh!” You finally acknowledge the room full of men.

You blink twice before smiling wide. “Hi everyone!! Does anyone have a peanut allergy? I made treats with and without nuts just in case!”

An entire room full of dangerous criminals stare in disbelief as you unload your wicker basket right onto the table, all while humming a song.

They all turn to stare at Joker who is ready to crawl into a hole from embarrassment. He doesn't even know where to begin there's so much to unpack here.

How did you get here all by yourself? Who let you in?! Why did you bake so much?! Is that a pain au chocolat?

Surely you sense the threat around you but no. You are so oblivious, it’s almost sad to watch.

Some brave soul does announce their allergy and you quickly deliver them a nut free brownie on a pink napkin.

Your naïve personality triggers an understanding in the room and people start to lower their weapons in exchange for treats.

By the end of your impromtu visit, Joker's gang is obsessed with you and your baking. And so the questions start pouring in.

"Y/n you’re so nice! How is someone like you with the boss?"

You look up from handing a goon a cookie, "You mean J? Oh!" You look away bashful as they all wait for a response. Even Joker is intrigued with what you’ll say.

“I’m not the smartest girl in Gotham but Joker doesn’t care! He’s the most patient person I’ve ever met and he never belittles me! How could I not love him? He’s so protective too! He always murders the mean people who make fun of me. Isn’t he so romantic?”

The room goes silent after that last bit. And so it all starts to make sense.

“Great. She’s crazy too." One guy whispers.

[kimingyuslover]

WONWOO FIC RECS

scandal by @fantasyescapes17 (regency!au, fluff, angst, kinda enemies to lovers!au) pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) was beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

the peephole by @rubyreduji (smut)

➥ wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

neurosurgery department by @taeyegu (fluff, angst, some humor, friends to lovers!au)

“if there is a nice person, please introduce him to me. sometimes like water, sometimes like fire. someone who can love me sincerely. i hope he is someone who is mature and faithful…” (introduce me a good person, joy)

getting closer (angst, smut, crime!au, Joker!Jeon Wonwoo x Chief Inspector!fem!reader) by @multi-kpop-fanfic

Summary: Four months. It has taken inspector Y/N L/N four months to get her hands on Jeon Wonwoo, the maniac, Joker-like criminal, who has thrown the city into total fear. The same criminal who has an obsession with the inspector, because she's the only one who can grant him his greatest wish. They need each other to fulfill their goals and there's only one way - by getting closer to each other, one last time.  

bloodily safe by @starlightxsvt (psychological thriller? camgirl au, college au, smut)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

game on by @starlightxsvt (pt. 2 of bloodily safe, smut)

synopsis ► ❝ there has not been a single uninteresting moment since you have started living with wonwoo. as halloween rolls around, things only get more riveting. ❞

twisted fate by @smileysuh (smut, some fluff, vampire!wonwoo, vampire hunter!reader, soulmate!au, enemies to lovers!au)

💙 preview. “He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.

anteric by @smileysuh (smut, friends to lovers!au, frat!au, fake dating!au, ft. mingyu)

💙 preview. when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night... and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”

work husband by @rubyreduji (fluff, ft. mingyu, office!au)

summary: your two coworkers get a bit too involved in becoming your “work husband”

to my youth by @viastro (slice of life!au, smau, fluff, humor, angst)

ミ☆ synopsis: in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

[these-written-reveries]

ok but like, the post you reblogged with the pics of ledger putting the makeup on,, imagine you and J getting ready for the day and sharing the bathroom together while he's putting his makeup on. idk just sounds cute and domestic uwu 💖

Omg nonnie, I was literally thinking these thoughts the moment I saw those pics! I knew I had to write them down, so here ya go! 💖

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

Getting Ready With J (Headcanons)

*Inspired by this post

‣ Pairing: Ledger!Joker/Jack Napier x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: fluff, domestic bliss w/cute deadly clown man

‣ Warnings: None!

‣ Notes: Besides the rare occasion of J spreading some daytime chaos across the city of Gotham, most of his work would be done at night. Because of that, I don't think he would always feel the need to put on his makeup early in the day if he's just gonna be at home—especially after he's reached a point of being able to drop his mask around you (literally & figuratively). That said, I can see this situation playing out in 2 different ways...

L!Joker/Jack Napier Masterlist

Main Masterlist

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

« Scenario 1: » ♡ He and you get ready together in the morning/afternoon.

‣ Maybe you have work or some errands to run, or you're simply getting ready to spend the day lounging comfortably at home.

‣ As for J, he has some important "business" to attend to.

‣ The two of you start by brushing your teeth together, J trying to make you laugh the whole time just to watch you struggle not to spit toothpaste everywhere. He gets a good kick out of this, a shit eating grin on his face as he continues to brush his teeth.

‣ You both share the counter space, your self-care items scattered around as you carry on with your routines. There are very little words spoken during this time, but you still communicate through your own secret language; sometimes being able to read each other's minds just by sharing a simple glance.

‣ You both know each other's routine so well that you hand each other the items you need next before either of you ask for it.

‣ On days where J is particularly clingy, he's glued to your side, having such a strong need to be touching you at all times—even if this means just barely touching arms while you get ready in the mirror.

‣ If your daily routine includes brushing your hair, he totally enjoys doing this for you. So much so that he's now in the habit of grabbing your brush and gently running it through your hair while you do something else. He often takes a little longer than necessary, but that's only because he loves to feel the beautiful texture of your hair.

‣ You sneakily give each other occasional kisses on the cheek or anywhere your lips can reach as you continue getting ready. You always love to see the small blush that creeps over J's bare face in the mirror after you've given him a smooch and maybe a gentle caress on his back that just happened to drift a bit lower 😉

‣ Sometimes you play music together while you get ready. A playlist of songs both you and him like. He loves it when you sing or dance to your favorite songs, or even to some of his favorite songs that have started to grow on you too. If you're quick about it, you might be able to catch him looking at you fondly through the mirror just before he looks away and pretends to be focused on something else. Depending on his mood that day, you might get to hear him hum along to some songs as well.

‣ If you wear makeup, you also do this part together. If not, you sit on the counter or hug him from behind while he does his own (he much prefers the latter).

‣ If you ask, he'll definitely let you do his makeup for him. He loves to just sit back, relax, and soak up your touch during this time. He particularly enjoys the part where you draw the smile over his lips and scars with red lipstick and the concentrated look on your face while you do it.

‣ Beware to makeup wearers, Jack will steal your red lipstick if he's suddenly run out or lost his! And he's definitely not gentle with his application. But it's alright, he'll steal buy you a new one!

‣ If you choose to sit back and watch, you'll witness him create his personal masterpiece with nothing but some lipstick, greasepaint, and his fingers. He only uses one brush and that is to dab on a little bit of setting powder at the end (a trick he learned, thanks to you), though if he's in a rush, he'll sometimes skip this part. After doing it for so long, it takes him less than 5 minutes. But he'll often go slower just so he can spend some extra time with his love.

‣ When he's all done, he chases you out of the bathroom, threatening to cover your face with sloppy red kisses. In the end, he settles for a small peck on the lips before the two of you part ways for the day.

« Scenario 2: » ♡ Darkness has settled over Gotham city, which means it's time for J to clock in.

‣ You're already settling down for the evening when J gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. You're right on his tail, following in his footsteps. He smirks when he realizes and playfully comes to a halt, just to get you to bump into him. When you whine/pout over this, he coos teasingly at you and gives you a kiss on the forehead before taking your hand and leading you the rest of the way there.

‣ You perch yourself on the counter or the toilet while he sits in a chair in front of the mirror. You watch him work, admiring the focused look in his eyes and the way he contorts his face to apply the paint to his skin.

‣ He occasionally glances over at you and scoffs at the heart-eyes you're giving him.

‣ Don't you dare give him a flirty compliment unless you want to see him roll his eyes and brush it off all while trying to hide his flustered smile (do it, do it, do it).

‣ The two of you talk about whatever is on your minds and J finds himself lingering on the black around his eyes for far longer than usual just to keep listening to your sweet voice.

‣ Once again, if you ask, he'll let you finish his makeup for him. This time he'll have you sit in his lap while you do it, giving your thighs a light squeeze and running his thumbs over your soft skin.

‣ Upon finishing, you press a little kiss to the tip of his nose and fix his hair a bit. He watches you with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, reaching up to cup your face in his hands. You stop what you're doing as he pulls you in for a kiss that speaks on behalf of words left unspoken.

♡ J loves you. And he cherishes these little moments with you more than you know.

◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆──◇──◆

‣ Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for L!Joker/Jack Napier, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

‣ Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

[montimer]

oh, again, an unexpected idea came to my mind... and soon I would have forgotten it, so here it is: I was thinking about learning to parkour or beatbox. and has already started. so why don't you write the reaction of L, Ledger!joker and Arthur (sorry, just the most favorite of the list of characters you suggested) when they found out that the reader was doing all this.

K i'll go w/ the parkour one (sorry its just easyer to write ab that)

L, Ledger!Joker, Arthur Fleck x reader who does parkour

Arthur Fleck

He would catch you doing it. At first his frightened, watching you jumping on/around buildings.

"Y-Y/n what are you doing ?"

When you explain it that ur fine and was doing it for a while he would just stare at you. But he'll accept it, he is just scared for you.

He'll get used to it. And he will just smile at you. He totaly isn't stalking you while doing it.

Ledger!Joker

He would watch you doing it, when you realise his watching,you come down to him.

He'll raise an eybrow at you "What are ya doing y/n?".

He doesn't show but is worried that you would have fallen down.

You explain it that you've been doing it lately so its fine

He finds it entertaining, watching ur every move.

L

He will give you a wide stare.

"You could have fallen.."

He will observe it to make sure you wouldn't slip. And stays when you do it.

He will get spooked if you jump down next to him.

When you do parkour he doesn't wanna lose sight of you.

[junipersberries]

Dearest Y/N,

Heehee! Oh, I'm so glad to be out of that cell! It's too hard to think when you've got those stupid bars in your face all day... Not to mention, I'm just itching to see you again!

After all, you know how much I enjoy your company...

Of course... I'm not so surprised we've managed to become...close in that time. And now, that we're both working together, we have the potential to be so much more. Don't you agree?

So now that I'm free, I can finally come visit you. And trust me... I've been thinking about it... I'm dying to see you again! It's been far too long. There's no one who can compare to your understanding and... ah, appreciation of my art.

And I hope you like a little bit of suspense, cause when I do show up... you're gonna be thrilled. Aha-ha-ha! I'll be waiting at your apartment.

.....That's right, my dear, I know your home address. I've been... watching you for the last couple of days, and it's about time we had a little uh, heart to heart.

Oh, and by the way, you might want to consider investing in better locks...

- Your friend, the Joker

Part 14 Part 16

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 3)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fight With A Parent, Swearing, and Fear of Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.0K

Summary: Rafe has accomplished his goals and is now able to meet his daughter for the first time.

Masterlist

Over the past month, Rafe has gotten a chance to learn more about Stella from his weekly meetings with Y/N. Stella was born on May 17th, 2020 at 10:59 A.M. Her first word was Joshy, said at eleven months old when she was calling for help from her uncle Josh when her uncle Benedict would mercilessly tickle her. At two years old, she became obsessed with witches after her mother read her a book about them and it has been her favourite topic of conversation since. Her favourite colour is dark purple and her favourite food is any soup in general because she likes to pretend she is drinking a witch's potion when she eats it. The most important fact of all to Rafe: Stella Rachel Y/L/N is his little girl’s full name. Y/N had tried her best to come up with a name close to Rafe, but all the names closer she found on the internet didn’t go with Stella. Nonetheless, the action still touched him when Y/N told him that was the reason.

And now, he’ll finally get to meet his little star. His hand fidgets with the small nob on his watch, making the hands go clockwise and counterclockwise. He watches as Y/N reads over his toxicology report. She didn’t require him to do a weekly toxicology report to prove that he was staying sober, but he wanted to show her she could trust him. The logical part of him knows she won’t say that he can’t meet Stella, yet a small part of him fears she might. 

The small smile she gives him relieves him of his anxiety, “This is great, Button. I’m so proud of the work you put into staying sober.” Forming a friendship with Y/N was another amazing thing that happened this month. When she started using the nickname she gave him the night Stella was conceived, he felt the air leave his lungs just like it does now. “Thanks. I was really scared that I might relapse this week after I got into an argument with my dad, but I called Diana, did some breathing exercises and looked at my picture of Stella. It all helped me get through it,” he replies truthfully. He had truly felt fear that week when he found himself on the road towards Barry’s trailer. Luckily, he was able to fight through his desire and pull over the car before he got there. Y/N nods and reaches out to place a reassuring hand on his, “Well, I’m glad you were able to recognize your craving and reach out for help with managing it. So do you want to come over after we finish our coffee?” 

His lips stretch so far apart that people would think he is the Joker. He pulls out his phone to check his schedule, “No, I won’t have enough time to go home and change if I come tonight. I also need to get her a few things before I meet her. How about tomorrow afternoon? Is that okay?” “You know you don’t have to make a big deal about this with the changing and the gifts. As long as you love her and show her that love, she is going to reciprocate those feelings,” Y/N argues. 

“I know, I just… Meeting her is all I have been dreaming about for the last month and I want it to be perfect. Plus, it really couldn’t hurt to get her a few bribery toys.”

“I understand how you feel. When Benny came home the week before Stella was born with the wrong colour paint for her room, I almost threw a chair at him. I wanted Finch yellow, but he got funky yellow. It didn’t matter that they were virtually the same colour. I just need her room to be exactly how I planned it. So you can come over tomorrow. Just don’t buy her too many toys.” 

“I can’t be held to a gift-buying limit. I have to make up for five years.”

——

Y/N watches as Stella tries to get ready by herself, thinking about what is going to happen in just ten minutes. “Mommy, help, please,” Stella cries out for help. Y/N’s focus returns to her daughter and she has to stop herself from laughing. Stella has gotten her shirt stuck on her head because she has been trying to get her head through the armhole. Y/N approaches the young girl and helps put her head through the right hole. “You were almost there, Stells. I’m proud of you,” she praises, giving the little girl a kiss on the head. Stella shouts a thank you as she runs into her mom’s room. 

Y/N follows her daughter to her room and carries Stella over to the bed. Once Stella is safely on the bed, Y/N turns toward her dresser to get her perfume. “One tiny spray for this wrist,” Y/N pushes the top of the perfume so the scent falls on her daughter’s wrist. “And one tiny spray for the other. Now, you are ready to go. Why don’t you wait in the living room for Mommy’s special guest to arrive.” The little girl runs off as her mother suggested and Y/N is left alone in her room. She looks at herself in her mirror, wondering how her life is going to change once Stella meets her dad. It’s not that Y/N doesn’t trust Rafe, he has shown her that he really is trying. It’s that Stella isn’t going to be solely Y/N’s anymore. She will have to share some parenting duties with Rafe and it feels strange for her to do that. She is the one who stayed up with Stella when she was puking all night last year. She is the one who would read the little girl a bedtime story every day. She is the one Stella goes to when she is scared. Now, Y/N is going to have to learn to let Rafe do those things too. 

Rafe nervously wipes the sweat off of his palm and adjusts the hat on his head. The time on the clock shows he is five minutes early, but he can’t wait any longer. He knocks on the door and rocks on the balls of his feet. The door creaks open, yet Rafe is met with an empty doorway. It is only when he looks down that he sees the perfect little star staring up at him with her brilliant blue eyes. “Stella Rachel Y/L/N, what have I told you about answering the door to strangers?” Y/N scolds, walking into the room with an adorable motherly look. Stella looks back at her mother with a pouty look, “I’m sorry, Mommy. But I knows we were going to have a special guest.”

Rafe is in awe at how adorable she is, but he takes this as his chance to do the first fatherly act he will ever do. “Your mother is right, Stella. What if I was a stranger?” he poses, kneeling down to her level. She gives him wide eyes, “But you weren’t. You are the man who Mommy yelled at.” Her words cause pain to shoot through his heart. The first memory his little girl has of him is his argument with her mother. Y/N can see the hurt that crosses Rafe’s face and beckons the pair away from the doorway. “Yes, he is, Baby. But he apologized to Mommy and we are friends again. Did you see his hat?” Y/N points out. The small blue eyes move from his face up to his head and her eyes turn to delight. “You’re wearing a witch’s hat!” she exclaims, reaching up to her father’s head to try it on. “Can I try it on, please?” Glad that his conversation start is working, he takes the hat off and places it on her tiny head. Everyone giggles as the big hat falls over her eyes. 

Now, that the ice has been sufficiently broken, Y/N decides it is time to make the introduction Rafe has been waiting for. “Stella, do you know why I asked my special friend to come visit?” Y/N sits on the couch, bringing Stella on her lap. The little girl shakes her head and rests it on her mother’s chest. “He’s your Daddy, Baby.” The excitement in his daughter’s eyes as she turns toward him sends him over the moon. The tiny girl flings herself into her arms and screams his new name. He never thought someone would call him those words, but now it’s the only one he wants to hear. “Does that mean you can play witch with me? I have a hat you can borrow.” With her now in his arms, he can smell the familiar vanilla fragrance of Y/N’s perfume. It makes him smile that she wants to be just like her mommy. Before he can answer, she runs off to her room to get her toys. She returns dragging a big plastic cauldron behind her. Rafe feels his father's instinct kick in. He jumps off of the couch and runs over to pick her and the cauldron up in his arms. Stella looks at him in awe, “Wow, my Daddy is super strong.” This absolutely kills him and he kisses her on the cheek. 

——

Y/N, Stella and Rafe have spent the afternoon playing various games their daughter wanted to play. When it got closer to dinner time, the three of them worked together to make something to eat. “Button, can you please pour me some more water?” Y/N asks, holding up her glass for him to do it. He picks up the water pitcher and pours it for her, “Of course, Buttercup.” Stella may be three and eleven months old, but she is very observant. Throughout the afternoon, she noticed the tiny glances Rafe would send Y/N’s way. She noticed how his hand would reach to find her skin, yet it never seemed to land. She noticed how he would always ask for Y/N’s approval. And just now, she saw how his lips formed a massive smile because of her mother’s attention. 

The small girl starts to form a plan in her head; she can see how much her father is pining for her mother. He clearly needs her help. “Mommy, I like Daddy’s hair. Do you?” she questions, looking back and forward between her parents. Y/N looks up from her food to look at Rafe, “I do like his hair. It looks nice when the front of his hair falls down like a little curtain.” He stops mid-stab of the pasta to look up at her through his lashes. “I’ll take note of that then, Buttercup,” he brings his hand up to hide the blush on his cheeks. Stella is very satisfied with the results of the beginning of her plan. She feels like a genius. Y/N doesn’t know that she is going to regret letting Stella watch Hallmark movies with her. 

——

After dinner, Rafe is preparing for the roughly hour-and-a-half drive back to the Outer Banks. Stella is holding on to Rafe for dear life because she isn’t ready for him to go. “Mommy, why can’t Daddy stay?” she begs, looking at her mother sadly. Y/N frowns at her daughter, “I’m sorry, Baby. Not yet, there is nowhere for him to sleep. Plus, Daddy has work tomorrow and you have daycare.” Rafe can see the struggle Y/N is having with saying no to Stella and he helps her out. “How about I go over to the diner on Friday? I’ll be there when you get back from daycare. Maybe I’ll even have a surprise,” he offers, whispering the last part in her ear. 

The darling’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree and loosens her arms from his neck. “Okay! I can’t wait to see you. Bye, Daddy. I love you,” she bids adieu. She hops down from his arms and runs to get ready for bed. The quicker she goes to bed, the faster Friday comes. Rafe calls back I love you. The two adults laugh at the child as they watch her run off. The laughter dies down and Y/N turns her body toward Rafe. “It’s okay that I come by on Friday, right?” Rafe confirms with a hopeful smile. 

“Of course, as long as you are sober, I won’t stop you from seeing her. The extra business is good too.” 

“Haha, I’ll make sure to deposit my paycheck before I go in then. Also, please let me know if you need anything. Money for food, rent, toys, clothes, tuition. Anything, okay. I want to pull my weight. She’s my daughter too.”

“I will, I promise. Thank you for coming over tonight. You made her day.”

They both look at each other for a second and then notice the time. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late,” Rafe concludes, taking a step closer to the door. Y/N tries to hide her slight disappointment, “Uh, yeah. Drive safe. See you on Friday.” Rafe nods his head and opens the door. “See you on Friday.” Y/N stays by the door as she watches Rafe walk down her driveway. She waves goodbye to him as he gets into his car and drives away. Once he is out of sight, she closes the door and reflects on the day. It was strange to have Rafe there, but she doesn’t regret the decision. She saw how much he cared for Stella and it solidified the idea in her mind that he is meant to be a father. This is a new kind of normal that she can get used to. 

——

Since Sarah and Rafe moved out of Tannyhill, Ward insisted on having family dinner every week. Everyone knows Sarah’s departure is the main reason why Ward wanted to do so, especially since Ward tried to have just Sarah come to dinner. However, thanks to Sarah, Ward gave in to inviting Rafe. Most dinners start with Ward getting small talk with Rafe about work out of the way before he moves on with asking Sarah about a full second-by-second breakdown of her week. And this Wednesday is not any different, but Rafe has something else other than work to talk to his dad about. 

“Actually, Dad, there is something I want to talk to you about,” Rafe brings to the table, looking Ward dead in his eyes. Ward stops chewing, not really expecting Rafe to have anything else to say. Ward tilts the end of his fork toward Rafe, “Okay, what is it?” “I have a daughter. Her name is Stella. She is three years old, almost four. And she looks exactly like me,” Rafe gets everything out in one go. He may have known about Stella for a month now, but he didn’t want to tell his family until he knew he could step up and be the person his daughter needed. This causes everyone at the table to freeze and look at Rafe in surprise. Ward’s eyes narrow; his brows become one. “What do you mean?” he gets out in a rough tone. 

“I mean that five years ago, I had sex with Y/N and she had a baby nine months after that. I didn’t know about Stella until last month. I didn’t want to tell you guys until I was a month sober and certain that I could be there for her.”

“You better tell me that this is a joke because I can’t believe that you could be that much of a screw-up. How do you even know she is your daughter?”

“I told you, she looks exactly like me.”

“How do you know that’s not because you want to believe she does? How do you know that bitch isn’t lying to you? You were so useless that you didn’t even get a paternity.” 

Rafe stands up at what Ward calls Y/N and points a finger at his father. “You have no right to call her that. I know she isn’t lying because I trust her. I won’t make her get a paternity test,” he yells. Ward lets out a low chuckle, “Okay, fine. Do whatever you want. But I’m going to need you to get a lawyer and write up a contract for child support if that’s what the bitch is after. There is no way you are actually going to raise that kid.” “You need to stop calling the mother of your granddaughter a bitch. And why can’t I raise my daughter? You are always telling me I need to take responsibility and I am. Why can’t you just be proud of me?” he argues, his anger getting to a whole other level. The other members of the dinner see that this fight is not about to end any time soon, so Sarah steps in. “Dad, stop. This isn’t going anywhere. And you should be proud of Rafe. He overcame his addiction just so that he could be a better father. That’s amazing and I’m proud of him for that. I, for one, am excited to meet my niece,” Sarah reasons. Wheezie butts in too, “I want to meet Stella too.” Rafe gives them a thankful smile but gets up angrily.  

“Thank you guys for your support. I’ll talk to Y/N to find out when you can meet Stells. Dad, I wish I could say that I am surprised but I’m not,” he begins. “No matter what I do, I will never compare to Sarah and I won’t force you to meet your granddaughter. I think I’m going to go. Goodbye.” Rafe storms out of the house and slams the door. He gets to his truck and is about to drive away, yet he knows he shouldn’t. If he goes now, he is scared it will lead him to Barry’s. Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials a number that recently entered his contacts. “Hey, Button. Is everything okay?” Her voice is like a light guiding him back to home base. He vehemently shakes his head, “No, I’m not. Do you have time to talk?” Y/N immediately stops what she is doing and gives him her full attention for the whole night. 

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer

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Out of Our Minds (Part Four)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: swearing, mentions of blood

Words: 5.9k

Chapter Summary: More sessions pass and while you learn more about the Joker, the pull you feel towards him grows stronger. Yet this time, it feels like everything is starting to change...

Previous part: Part 3

Notes: We back, and things are really picking up this time. Hope this distracts everyone who might be going through a tough time right now. <3 Things really pick up in this one, and I'm already excited to drop the next part lol. Have fun with this one!

With every session your infatuation for the Joker only grows.

At first, you tell yourself it comes from your want (well, need) for him to progress, both for the sake of actually seeing him healed and for the sake of your survival. Then eventually, you think it comes from the fact that his mind truly is incomprehensible, and you want to know what’s going on inside of it, want to crack open his skull and see every gear. But now, you’re not even sure what it is exactly that keeps you feeling empty anytime you’re not in a session with the Joker. You don’t know what you’re chasing anymore. Everything is just one big mind fuck.

Slowly, the Joker becomes more and more human to you. Where others still see some kind of raving, homicidal madman, you see a person. 

As your sessions carry on, you tell him more things about you, and you learn more things about him. He likes junk food. He is skilled with almost every gun known to man. He owns over thirty blades. His sleep schedule is so all over the place that he doesn’t even know what day it is ever. He prefers nights over mornings. He drinks his coffee with lots of creamer. Every fact you’ve tucked away in your mind and you’re not sure for what.

You like it when he tells you something personal about himself, but he likes when you do it even more. “I was a gymnast for a long time,” you told him once, much to his surprise. Even you hadn’t expected to get into that part of your life. “I had to stop once I started going to school, just got too busy, but I was real good at it.”

“Gymnastics, huh?” He said, grinning, and you figured he must be imagining you, usually so rigid, flying through the air. It sounded like a joke. You were surprised he wasn’t laughing. “So, you’re pretty, ah, light on your feet?”

You smiled to yourself, thinking of all the memories. It had felt so nice to throw yourself into all that hard work. When you were flipping in the air, you felt free. “Guess you could say that. Certainly hasn’t come in handy though, in my line of work.”

“It may come in handy with mine. You’d probably make a good fighter, Doctor l/n.”

The thought of you fighting anyone made you laugh out loud. Have you thought about fighting people before? Of course. All your life people have hurt you and you wanted to hurt them back. But in the end, you had decided that wouldn’t do any good. Now, however, as you kept imagining it, the Joker appeared at your side, and you were winning this fight, him laughing maniacally beside you. It sent a sort of thrill through you. You didn’t like it. “Luckily, I’m not in your line of work.”

He had winked. “You can always change your mind.”

Alongside learning bits of things about him, he also taught you a few new skills, probably antsy to test them out considering he’s strapped to a bed most of the time. He (as best as he could still cuffed to a table) tried to teach you to pick a lock, how to get a perfect shot with a gun, how to rig up TNT. It was nothing you needed to know, nor anything you thought he should be thinking about, but you went along anyway because it was best he knew you were there to support his interests. As dark as they were…. You’d work on that. 

After your last session, you decided to bring something up to Mr. Dale.

“Doctor y/n, your progress has been very minimal,” he had commented as you walked up to him, before you could even open your mouth.

You frowned. “It’s the Joker, sir. It’s not going to move very fast-“

“Well, I am tired of waiting. The longer he sits in that cell I fear the worse he’ll get, and then what? He snaps and tries to kill us all?” He cleared his throat, adjusting his collar. You wanted to smack him. “Is there any way you could hurry up the process?”

Don’t rush me, was what you wanted to scream, but that wasn’t going to get you anywhere but kicked to the curb. “I do think I have an idea,” you said, trying to direct him to why you came up to him in the first place. “You need to let me bring in his makeup.”

Mr. Dale’s eyebrows shot up. And, of course, he began to laugh. If it weren’t for growing used to the Joker doing it so often, it would really piss you off. “You want to turn him back into a clown? Miss l/n, I fear that would only encourage him.”

“First off, it’s Doctor l/n,” you point out sternly. You’ve had enough of him treating you like less. If there’s another thing the Joker has taught you, it’s to not take shit from others. “And second, I want him to embrace himself. If he can be this clown persona he sees him as, we can take this persona and shape it so that it’s less… violent. Then, the makeup will no longer be something he associates with villainy. Please, Mr. Dale, I know what I’m talking about.”

You smiled wide as Mr. Dale’s face fell, absolutely shattered by your words. He wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “Alright, Doctor l/n, I will allow it however if it ends badly-“

“It wont.” 

“You’re getting too comfortable. It’s his fault, I’m sure. I was right, he breaks people.”

You wish you could grab him by the collar and pull him close, but instead you settle on a deadly glare, looking him right in the eye. “I’m not broken. J isn’t broken.”

“Well, you’ve changed.”

You scoffed and turned away. “See you later, Mr. Dale.”

You have changed. You’re not sure if it’s for the better or not.

—————————

For your session, you walk in with a gentle smile, the tubes of makeup in your bag clinking together. You’re going to keep it a surprise, for later in the season. You’re not really sure why you feel giddy, but you do. It sort of outweighs your exhaustion, you’d run to the store late that night to pick up the same paints the Joker was said to have used. And when the guards finally let you in through the door, your smile grows even wider at the sight of the Joker, who is already smiling back at you. Not just because of the scars, it’s an actual smile. At first, his smiles had been menacing, but now you feel they’re actually kind of… nice. “Well, hello, doll face. So lovely to see you again.”

“Hiya, Mr. J,” you respond, taking your seat. “How are you doing today?”

“You know me, Doctor l/n, your presence puts me in a much better mood.” He props his chin up on his fist. “You look beautiful today.”

The past few sessions, Joker has certainly grown more flirty. It’s not something you’re a stranger to, the other patients have tried their hand at it, usually to try and get on your good side, but it’s different coming from Joker. You know he likes to rile you up, but you can’t help but feel the words are mostly genuine. “I look like this everyday,” you point out, not wanting to show him how his words affect you. 

“And you are, ah, beautiful everyday, doll.”

“Mr. J, refrain from flattery, please.”

He bows his head, pretending to be upset like a kicked puppy. “Oh, you’re no fun sometimes, Dr. l/n. You know I like to tease ya.”

“Some of the guards told me you’re allowed to roam around your cell now,” you say, trying to switch the subject before he can completely throw you off course. He’s good at that. “How are you liking that?”

“Hmmmm, well, I, ah, went from being stuck permanently standing in a small cell and now I can walk around the cell. Once you’ve walked it once you’ve, ah, seen it all.” He looks to one side of the room. “A wall there.” His head swerves to the other. “Oh, and one there too! What a surprise!” He chuckles to himself. Nothing makes Joker laugh more than his own nonsense. 

“So, not much better?”

Joker shakes his head. “Nah ah ah, not one bit. Can barely even make a ruckus too, the doors conceal all my banging and kicking and laughing. The guards can’t even get annoyed with me.”

You bite your cheek. “You really like being a nuisance, huh?”

“I do like to make people tick.” He wets his lips. “Especially pretty psychiatrists with sharp minds.”

Already, you can feel your cheeks warming. Embarrassment, that’s all it is. You, once again, try and take the conversation back to what you actually need to be in there for. “How about we get started, huh?”

Joker nods, smacking his lips together. Despite how much he licks them, they’re always chapped, the skin cracking. “What am I in for today? I feel we’ve talked about everything we possibly can.”

“And yet you’re no closer to getting out of here, are you?” You smirk at him as you bring out your clipboard. “I feel like I’ve been keeping it too light these past few sessions. I’ve learned a lot about you but you still won’t let me reach past the barrier.”

“What barrier?”

“The barrier between you and whoever you were before you became the Joker.”

His lips twist into a frown. Again, his past touches a nerve. “Dolly,” he warns, “I’ve told you, whatever came before doesn’t matter. I’ve always been the Joker. You won’t find anything past that.”

Once again, Joker is being a stubborn ass. As much as you enjoy talking with him, he also drives you nuts. “You’re saying your life started once Batman came to the scene?”

“He gave me purpose. What’s a joke without the punchline? Batman is the punchline.” 

“You were a child once, Joker.”

“Like most people, yes.”

“And how was your childhood?”

He ignores your question, grumbling as he stares at his cuffed wrists, rotating them as you sit there expectantly. You realize he’s not going to answer you and groan. So, he doesn’t want to dive into the past. You’re not going to force him. Prying was never the best way to go about things. You’d leave it alone again… for now. “Okay, sorry, Mr. J, we can move on. Is there anything that you’d like to talk about?”

Joker raises an eyebrow, not confused but suspicious. “You’re just gonna turn it into some kind of analysis moment, aren’t you?”

He knows me too well. “Well, that is my job. But no. Just, talk to me.” You hold your hands together, resting your chin on them. “About anything.”

“Hmmmm.” He looks like he’s having trouble thinking of something. “I’ve been thinking about Batman.”

“B-Man.” Of course. “What have you been thinking about him?”

“Those last moments I saw him, his expression. He looked so shattered.” You’re not really sure what he’s talking about, and you’re sure your face betrays this but he goes on anyway. “Oh, I’d live for a moment like that again. Seeing Batman react to my schemes, it’s so pleasing.”

“Do you consider your vendetta against Batman more for yourself or on behalf of the people of Gotham?”

He points at you. “There’s the analysis question. You can calm down there, Doc.” Joker coughs. “Behalf makes me sound like mister tall, dark, and dorky,” he snorts. “I’m trying to pull back everyone’s mask, but especially the Bat’s. I mean I, ah, already broke down Harvey Dent.”

That makes you go still. You hadn’t thought much on Harvey Dent, or how what Joker did may have affected him. You’re not sure if broken is the right word. Maybe scarred. Figures.  “The explosion. Right.”

“Poor, poor Harvey Dent. Gotham’s White Knight broke right in half. All because of me!”

You frown. “Harvey Dent died a noble man, Joker. Batman killed him all because Harvey was trying to do good.”

Joker’s eyebrows shoot up. “Harvey Dent is dead? And Batsy killed him?”

Oh, fuck. You clap a hand over your mouth, shaking your head. You weren’t supposed to say anything. It was an accident, you hadn’t meant to let it slip. “I… no, I mean, yes but-“ you stumble to try and cover it up but there’s no going back. Joker knows. And, honestly, who cares? He was going to figure it all out eventually. You take a deep breath. “Yes. Harvey Dent is dead. Batman killed him and five other people. And then Batman… he disappeared.”

Joker shoots up from his chair, and it takes you aback, causing you to squeal. You instinctively push your back into the chair while Joker looms over you. You’re not sure what he’s feeling, his mouth a thin line, his nostrils fuming. “Doll, why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” he hisses.

“I… my bosses didn’t want me to. They were scared of what you’d do. That this would inspire you…”

You wait for him to yell, to react violently, but instead he laughs. This time though, it isn’t a creepy giggle or a small chuckle, it’s a full body laugh, the kind that contorts his body. It sounds like it hurts. “Batsy killing people?” he chokes out. “I don’t believe it. No, I don’t believe it-tah one bit.” He clutches his stomach. “Batman is a very hard person to break, believe me.”

“You… you don’t think he killed all those people?”

“Ha! Absolutely not. He would’ve killed me too, he had me in the perfect place to do it, multiple times. No no no, something’s wrong about this…”

Slowly, you loosen your posture, moving back closer to the table. You’ve never even thought that any of that mess could have been something made up. “I’m confused,” you admit. 

“Doll, do you know how hard I tried to get Batman to kill me? He won’t do it! He just won’t. He’s got his, ah, one rule, his precious little moral code. He had me in the perfect position to kill me so many times yet he didn’t take any of those chances. Yet now he says he’s killed off five people including Gotham’s little savior? Puh-lease. There’s more to this story than they’re letting up.”

You hadn’t thought about it that way at all. Well, probably because you had no reason to. Joker knew more about Batman than any Gothamite did. You didn’t know much about him other than his attempts at stopping crime. Who were you to know Batman supposedly didn’t kill? You admit, it was strange that he had a streak of getting rid of criminals in ways that didn’t involve killing, then suddenly turned and killed a few people? “Are you sure you didn’t… break him?”

“No, if I did I’d know it. I’d feel it. The Bat is about as stubborn as me, doll. And now he’s in hiding?” He sniggers, a hand gently touching his lips. “Sounds like some kind of, ah, twisted joke. The Bat is hiding something.”

“I’m sure he’s hiding lots of things.”

“Whatever this is though I’m curious about it.”

Of course. You just ignited a flame in him. Idiot. “Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

“Good thing they got nine lives.” 

The more you think about it, the more intrigued you are. Batman has always been shrouded in mystery for you. Was he good? Was he bad? And now it turns out his story is all over the place, that it doesn’t make sense? You kind of wanted to know now too. “Do you think it has to do with Harvey?”

“Only one way to, ah, find out.”

“Which is?”

He looks at you like the answer is obvious. “Drive the Bat out of hiding, of course.”

There it is. Mr. Dale was right. You shouldn’t have told him. He was going to find out eventually but now was not the time. Shit. “J, you can’t-“

He cuts you off. “You don’t like the Bat, do you?”

“Well, no, but-“

“Then don’t you wanna know what his little secret is? It must be somethin’ real special if he’s, ah, abandoned Gotham. Doesn’t sound very heroic to me. Sounds rather dull.” 

You know Joker’s dead set on getting back Batman for his own amusement, but what of you? What reason would you want to go find him for other than to expose him? He locked up Joker and left him here to rot. He killed five people plus Harvey Dent. He gets to hide away while people still root for him, safe from consequences. Everyone else suffers. Maybe Joker has a point. “I’m just a psychiatrist working Arkham asylum, Mr. J, trying to seek out the Batman is far above my pay grade,” you finally say, snorting, trying to get the idea out of your head. “B-Man can’t hide forever.”

“You’re right. Because we’ll drive him out.”

“We?”

“Well, you like to do good, don’t you? Little miss Mother Teresa, over here. You’ve already offered me friendship. So come on, help me, help Gotham, help us all!” He shows you his yellowing teeth. “Or, are you not as good as you think you are?” He reaches out with his hands suddenly, moving towards you. They only reach about halfway across the table, stopped by his cuffs, but you still jump. “What’s behind that mask, dear? Tell me what you really want. Let. It. Slip. Every dirty detail.” 

You’re trembling now. Like a rabbit caught in a trap. “I… I’m not sure I’m following.”

“You’re not as good as you think you are, dolly. I can see it! I, ah, can sense the darkness looking beneath your white coat.”

What the hell was Joker going on about? That you were as rotten as he was? You weren’t. You had dark thoughts sometimes, yes, but you weren’t crazy. You weren’t crazy. You weren’t. You weren’t bad you- “I don’t know what you want from me,” you whisper.

As your voice gets quieter, Joker gets louder. “Is that it? You feel all fine and dandy in this shitty life of yours, locked up with me in this madhouse? The people out there don’t care about you, they don’t care about any of us. But you’re fine with it, huh? Like a little pet pooch nipping at their heels. You’re just being optimistic!”

“Joker-“

“Tell me,” he demands, “what you really want! I want to break Batman! I want to strip all of Gotham down to its rotting core! And you want to keep yourself beneath their boots? Dolly, please, you’re much much more than that.”

Heart thumping, you can’t take his words anymore. You stand up abruptly, slamming your hands on the table. “Fine! You wanna know what I want? I want to hurt every single person around here who has done me wrong! Every single person who ignored me or disregarded me, everyday I wish I could just rip them apart. I- I hate everyone. I hate this stupid fucking place because everyone treats me like shit and at first I was only trying so hard at this because I can harldy survive and they told me that if your sanity improved then I’d get a raise!” What is with you today? You clap your hands over your mouth, hands shaking. Fuck, Joker was going to be pissed. Oh, goddammit. “J… I- I didn’t…” You struggle to find the words, trying to keep looking him in the eyes. They give nothing away. He is silent. “Mr. J-“

Then, out of nowhere, he cackles. He throws his head back, neck exposed, and laughs into the air, the howls of his laughter echoing throughout the room. Immediately, you’re caught off guard. You can’t tell if he’s laughing because it amuses him or because he’s angry. Even when he calms down enough to look at you and smile, you still can’t tell, and you continue to shake. “Doll,” he begins through his laughs, “that’s exactly what I’m looking for.” He doubles over with howling laughter again and you’re not sure if you should be scared or confused. “This whole time you just wanted a raise! So you took on little old me?”

There’s a lump in your throat. You swallow it down. “I didn’t have much of a choice but yes… it was that or be fired. But I did really want to help you, Mr. J. Are- are you mad?”

“Mad? No! I am, ah, lovin’ this side of you. It’s so cruel.”

That certainly took a weight off your shoulders, and you finally took a long breath in. Fucking hell, Joker was confusing. Guilt still gnawed at you. “You’re right, I’m just as selfish as you say people are,” you mumble.

“Exactly,” he hisses. “But it takes guts to admit it, especially to someone who, ah, doesn’t exactly handle things very nicely.”

“I’m so sorry, J.”

“Don’t apologize. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Then I don’t know what to do now. You’re set on getting Batman out of hiding, I’m going fucking crazy right now, everything feels so weird.”

Joker seems to find the utmost pleasure in your unraveling. “Doll, what’s in the bag?”

The question takes you off guard. “What?”

“When you came in, you were all giddy, and I could hear something moving in your bag I haven’t heard before. What is it?”

Ever so perceptive. “Oh… uh,” you fumble through your bag, bringing out the three tins of paint. “Your paint. They… they let me bring it for you.”

Joker’s smile falters a bit, yet he doesn’t look upset, just surprised. “My paint… You really brought it for me?”

You nod. “Y-yes.”

His voice dips low. “Put it on me then.”

Now that takes you by surprise. More than anything else that’s happened to you today.

The Joker is so guarded off, yet he’s inviting you in, allowing you to not just touch his face but apply his makeup. It feels sacred. This is a part of him that makes him not just recognizable, but feared. And here you are, being asked to put it on him. It’s so wrong it feels… right? It scares you.

“Are you sure you-?”

“Put it on me, y/n.”

If this is a test, you’re not exactly sure how to pass. But his look is unnerving and so you stand up, pulling yourself onto the table between you, a lump in your throat. You feel frazzled as you move close to him, bending your legs to the side of you as you settle on your thighs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him. You can see every line of his scars, every wrinkle and crease on his face. “Okay,” you say, more to yourself than to him. You grab the white paint to the side of you, screwing off the lid and taking a large glob of the substance.

You loom close to him, your fingers wet with white paint, waiting for a sign that he’s okay with this. You don’t dare breathe, scared that any movement, any sound, will shut him down. But to your surprise, he doesn’t back away, he nods. Keep going. Your fingers finally land on his cheek, right beneath his eye, and you gasp at how warm his skin is. Joker shows nothing on his face to reveal how he feels except for the way his eye twitches slightly at your touch, his cheek twitching along with it. As you start to paint around his face, everywhere but his scars and lips, you wonder if his reaction stems from a disdain of being touched or from not having been touched so gently in so long. 

“Mr. J,” you whisper, and you can feel your hands start to shake again but you quickly steady them. Once his face is fully white, you dig into the black paint. He notices this and closes his eyes, letting you rub the dark paint in circles until each of his eyes look like they’ve settled into two, painted voids. When he opens his eyes again, they’re still trained right on you. “What am I doing?” you ask to no one in particular.

Joker doesn’t answer your question. He doesn’t have one for you anyways other than the obvious. “The red now, doll.”

“Y-yes, of course.” Quickly, you grab the red paint and stick your fingers in, moving them towards Joker’s lips but stopping. Putting the makeup on his face had been intimate enough but… his scars? That was a whole different kind of territory. “J…”

“Do it,” he murmurs, and it’s so quick you still wait, your hand just in front of his mouth shaking. This had to be a test. Some kind of sick joke. “Doll, can you, ah, hear me? I said ‘do it’.” 

You want to protest, but for what? He made it clear what he wants. So, you begin to smear the red across his lips, moving first to the scar on his right, your entire body shuddering as your fingers touch the sunken in skin where the carvings were made, the mangled flesh around it, every bump and curve. You don’t understand why anyone would ever find these scars ugly. To you, the way they healed, the way they are a part of him, there’s something hauntingly beautiful about it.

Godammit, J is beautiful.

As you continue to smear the red paint, he looms closer. “Do you wanna know,” he whispers, “how I got these scars?”

“I…” Of course you do. Everyday since you’ve met him, you go home and you can’t help but see his smile. See those scars. And you can’t help but wonder how they got there. You imagine a blade ripping across his mouth, drawing so much blood it drips down his chin. You’ve imagined him screaming in pain. You’ve imagined him uttering not a peep as the blade pierces his skin. So many possibilities. This was the barrier you’d been hoping to jump. “Yes,” you finally rasp.

“I can, ah, never get the story straight. It’s like a black hole, doll. A black hole in my mind. There’s so many ways I could’ve gottem, so many ways I think I gottem. What’s real? What’s not? Who the fuck cares?” Even with a furious growl in his voice, he laughs. “I can’t remember what it really was that did it. There was a horrible father. A wife who I tried so hard for. There was war, and violence, the mob, and so much pain. I’ve seen a lot. Maybe they’re all real memories, maybe they’re not, doesn’t matter! I hated the scars at first, I really did, but now? I embrace them because there is just so much to smile for. I’ve got so much left to do in this city. So much fun left to have. But there’s something I’ve been missing.”

You rub your thumb over his right scar, drawing in a shaky breath. “What is that?”

“I have all these plans, all these ideas and feelings over what I do and yet I’ve never thought anyone good enough to share them with. People, ah, will only be good to you for a while before runnin’ off with your secrets, it’s just human nature. I didn’t feel a kinship to anyone until you came along, Doctor l/n.” When he smiles, you feel the movement beneath your finger. “Look at you. So lonely. Letting everyone spit on you. Yet here you are, being so kind to me. I’m sure you imagined I could’ve killed you for keeping me along for a stupid paycheck, but you admitted it to me anyways. You are pulling back your own mask, right in front of me. You know you couldn’t fix me, right?”

You can feel tears welling in your eyes at his words, guilt gnawing at you. “I wanted to try at first. But now… I- I don’t want to fix you. I like what you are.”

“That,” he growls, “is exactly why I’m so drawn to you. I know, doll, that you crave something more than what you have now, this world kicking you down over and over and over again. I know the feeling. You’ve got nothing and everything to lose. Yet you manage to smile amidst the darkness. You smile in the face of pure chaos.”

“I don’t understand,” you mumble. 

“I want what’s best for both of us, doll face. You were right. I do need someone by my side. As I was saying, what I’ve been missing this whole time, was you.”

Your eyes grow wide. “Me?”

He nods. “You stuck with me this long. Even for a paycheck, that’s somethin’ no one else would do. And yet the big Arkham bosses are out there now, laughing at the both of us. Ain’t that unfair?”

“Yes.”

“Doll, stick by my side, and we’ll let them all know just how corrupt they truly are.”

Your arms break out in goosebumps. Every word the Joker utters is dripping with venom, an edge to each syllable. You’ve tried to ignore him, the way he crawls into your rib cage, into your mind, finding your weaknesses, your dark desires and whims you push away. Yet here he is, getting you to reveal them, and trying to get you to go along with him. It’s working. “Let’s show them, then.”

You look down at your fingers, covered in red, and it almost looks like blood. 

He grins. “That’s the spirit.” With a curl of his finger, he gestures for you to move closer. You do, and he cranes his neck towards your ear. “If you really wanna help me,” he whispers, his breath hot in your ear, “then tomorrow is the day you get me out of this place.” Every t is pronounced as sharp as a blade. “You’re smart, doll, I know you can think of something.”

Breaking Joker. Out of Arkham. A few weeks ago, you might have grabbed your remote and hit the red button but now? You think you might just take him up on that. You move back to look him in the eye. “You won’t help me think of something?”

“I’m sure you’ve got something in that, ah, pretty mind of yours.”

You huff. “J, I’m serious. This is Arkham. It’s constantly guarded and protected. And I’m just me.”

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“You’re you, sweets. No one’s gonna suspect you.”

Oh fuck. He’s right. No one gave a shit about you. You’d fly right under the radar. That part was easy. But everything else? This wasn’t exactly your forte. You didn’t know what to do. “I’ll try my best,” was all you could offer.

He reaches his hand out, and at first you think he’s trying to grab you, but instead he goes after one of the paint tins. The red paint. Agonizingly slow, he removes the cap, getting his fingers wet with paint. “Doll, you and I are gonna make something special. I always knew you had it in ya. C’mere.” You tilt your face towards him, and Joker smears the red across your lips, a mirror of his own striking smile. “Don’t forget to smile,” he says.

“Never.”

_______________

Later in the night, Joker stares at himself in the reflection of the small, grimy window of his cell door. His face is painted exactly the way he likes it, maybe just a bit different, but he could care less. This, this person he’s looking at, is the person he is, the person you have given back to him. He touches his face and he can still feel your phantom touch, the way you had run your finger over his face, his eyelids, his scars. You hadn’t backed off, or avoided them, you had touched them so softly. Soft. You were soft. 

You made Joker feel soft and he hated it.

Yet, he couldn’t fathom getting rid of you. It would be easy, definitely. If things actually went well tomorrow and you managed to get him out of Arkham, he could easily kill you off. No one would look for you. And even if they did, helping him break out of Arkham would mark you a criminal, and Gotham would curse your name forever. But Joker doesn’t want to do that. Even the thought of your death makes him angry. He is used to wanting to hurt people, yet when he comes across you now, he feels… protective. He knows how the world hates him, yet somehow you showed him sympathy. No, even better, you were showing him loyalty by offering to help break him out. And if you really went and did it? God, he almost breaks into chills.

When he looks at you, he notices his body reacting strangely. His heart speeds up, his hands feel sweatier, his mind feels like it’s going to split right in half. This isn’t the kind of insanity Joker usually basks in, this is something worse. He doesn’t want to put a name to it. You were so good, and yet when you let your mask slip, Joker couldn’t help but feel pulled in even more. What lies beneath you is dark and spiteful, and Joker wants to see all of it.

You won’t let him down tomorrow, Joker is sure of it. 

A voice on the intercom comes through the crack under the door, crackling through the speakers placed along the hall outside. “Shutting lights off. Everybody get to bed.”

Joker grunts, moving to plant himself down on his metal “bed”. He’s not going to sleep though, how could he? Chaos was coming, and you were bringing it straight towards him.

________________________________________________

When you get home, you stumble into the bathroom, quickly turning on the sink faucet and drenching your face in water. You let the ice cold water drip down your face, crying out as you try and get a grip on things. Your fingers are still covered in Joker’s face paint, the water hardly washing any of it off. It’s like he’s on you forever.

Why, for fucks sake, do you almost want it to never wash off?

You look at yourself in the mirror now, the makeup that Joker spread smeared down your chin. This is you now. Mr. Dale was right, you have changed. But fuck it, it was for the best. This change, this thing radiating beneath your skin, it’s something dangerous yet powerful. It moves you. You’re not crazy, you’re insane. 

You can’t tell what this feeling is towards Joker. It almost feels like… love.

Love for the Joker.

The Joker. The Joker. The Joker-

He was right. He was always right. People were going to walk over you all your life. You were tired of it. Nothing was going to change if you didn’t change it first. You couldn’t stand around and watch these people, with their pockets fat and their reputations swell, walk around with such pride when you knew they were all phonies. This city, your city, you’re going to unveil it. No longer will it crush you. You’re going to crush it. 

You were going to be Joker’s partner in crime. And you loved it.

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[natailiatulls07]

The golden trio Pt 3

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warning - a little amount of hate and talks of sex (a quick comment)

A/n - I will most likely post of either Wednesdays or weekends, it’s just those are the days where my schedule is more freed up 🤍

The golden trio

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f1gossip

Spotted: Y/n L/n last night, she was with Lando Norris and they looked like they were doing some food shopping. How is everyone feeling after seeing Charles and Max’s posts earlier today?

Liked username and 3,281 others

username Personally I feel bad, I mean Charles and Max wouldn’t post and say those things if it was lie

username I mean maybe we were wrong. Tbh I’m annoyed at myself for assuming those things 😔

username Come on guys, she obviously manipulating them!

= username I highly doubt that, they’re very smart men and wouldn’t let that happen

= username Plus she hasn’t been back to their apartment since the other night sooo 🤨

yourusername posted to her close friend’s story

Gossip Groupchat (White: Reader) (Red: Charles) (Blue: Max)

Hey

Hey Bee, how are you??

I’m good, Lando showed me your posts on instagram. You know you didn’t have to

But we had to Bee and we wanted to. They were horrible to you, you’re our best friend, our sunshine. You obviously do not deserve it

Yeah ofc, we’d be the worst people ever if we let them carry on

You know I’m not angry at you guys, never was, I think just after what happened I needed to give us a little of space

We know Bee, we’d be same. I’m just glad you bumped into Lando and he let you stay at his place for a few day

About that…don’t get annoyed please

Why would we get annoyed?? 🤨

Um well

Me and Lando slept together

Ok…right well I know that I’m not annoyed about that, was it meaningless or what??

Yeah, I agree with Charlie. I just don’t want to see you getting hurt by him…

We were both drunk and um we woke up the next morning. I remember doing it but he said that doesn’t remember so I think it was more or less meaningless

That’s alright, it’s okay that it ended up that way, don’t worry

Okay…I’m probably gonna to head back to the apartment later today once I finish some work so I’ll see you guys later 🤍

See you later Bee 💙

Bye Bee ❤️

f1gossip

Spotted: Outside her apartment building, Y/n L/n and Lando Norris was caught sharing an intimate moment together. Is there something going on?? Or is it just friends being friends??

Liked username and 5,194 others

username Wait, why can I actually see this being a thing??

username Ngl I ship it 😋

username I wanna know how Max and Charles feels about this duo 😯

username So is she moving back into the apartment??

= username Where was she staying over the past few days??

= username A lot of people were saying that she was staying with Lando because he was non stop posting her and seen with her

= username That makes sense ngl

yourusername posted to her story

Twitter

username Wait, why do I love the fact that Y/n outs Charles and Max on her story?!? 🥹

username Ikr, she proper calls them out on everything!! It’s amazing 😍

username I was stalking her instagram earlier and some of the older posts are just amazing 🥰

lizziemackintosh

New going purple episode!! We have the gorgeous Y/n L/n in, we talk online hate, friends, relationships and anything in between. Thank you so much babes, I loved just hanging out with you!!

Tagged: yourusername

Liked by lilymhe and 46,825 others

username She looks stunning 😍

username I’m excited to see these two together

yourusername Loved hanging out with you, need to do it again soon 🤭

= lizziemackintosh OFC

username This is my joker.

username One queen hanging out with another queen, I love it 🥹

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Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav