#your joker ate too

[froglover7789]

the joker movie pisses me the FUCK off bc how did you make a joker origin with no batman!!!! his whole thing is batman!!! batmans whole thing is the joker!!!! bro is literally symbolic of batman's inability to give up being batman and the consequences of him doing so. they like need each other in a narrative sense and in the gayass ways they interact BUT YOU MEAN TO TELL ME BATMAN AINT IN THE GODDAMN MOVIE im sick.

lady gaga i am sure youll be a great harley but ik theres not gonna be a batman in the sequel so i kinda dont give a fuck im sorry queen

[cobaltfluff]

so i started playing persona 4

where are the QoL features

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[jasmines-library]

Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin. 

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look. 

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes. 

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you. 

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that. 

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar. 

~

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece. 

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything  you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake. 

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[nouvellevqgue]

✦ WHO'S FRED?, M. VERSTAPPEN

other than being his cat lady, his girlfriend got her master in halloween dress-up too.

A SEQUEL TO: MISS CRAZY CAT LADY. . .

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

OCTOBER 29, 2022

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₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

OCTOBER 2023

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ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

ˑ⭒ʚ ִinstagram ݁.٭

maxverstappen1

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[medusapelagia]

30 I saw him

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:Vampire ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Joker: thriller) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: canon character death (Eddie), vampire Eddie, blood Words: 1272

“I’m telling you what I saw!” Steve yells in the phone, tugging harshly at the cord while he moves toward his apartment’s window, trying to catch a glimpse of the figure he’s so fucking sure he just saw.

“Steve. Listen to me. It has been four years. I know it was hard for you and that you still think it’s your fault, which obviously isn’t, but this is just your mind fucking with you, ok?”

No, it’s not.

Steve saw him.

Steve saw Edward Theodor Munson standing on the other side of the street, grinning.

“It was him.”

“Steve, that’s not possible. The Up- that place closed years ago. We checked everywhere, the military checked everywhere, and neither of us found anything.”

With a sigh, Steve bumps his head against the window, he knows perfectly well what Robin means: they didn't find a body, so probably the creatures from the Upside Down ate Eddie’s body like a fucking snack. And Steve could accept that. Or well, it took him years and numerous therapy sessions, but he came to terms with that. With Eddie’s death. But that was before today.

In the last week Steve has had the impression of being followed around and today, when he has looked down his window, he has seen Eddie standing on the other side of the street. It was just for a moment and then a bus crossed the road and the man disappeared. But Steve is sure that it was Eddie.

“Steve. Are you taking your meds?” Robin asks softly.

Turning toward the kitchen he looks at his counter where way too many bottles of medicines are standing. One pill in the morning, two after lunch, one in the afternoon, and a few drops to help him sleep every night and not be awake from nightmares.

Yes. He’s taking the stupid pills, but he’s still sure of what he saw, if his best friend doesn’t believe him, none else will, so there’s no point in arguing.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m taking the stupid meds and I was probably wrong. I’m looking out of the window but I can’t see him anymore.”

“Maybe he was someone who looked like him,” she suggests and Steve quickly agrees that it must have been so.

But there’s a thing he didn’t tell Robin.

The mysterious man who looked exactly like Eddie was holding a big dark umbrella, even if it wasn’t raining. That’s what attracted Steve’s attention. The huge umbrella covered the man’s body while nobody else was holding one.

It means nothing, Steve knows it, but he can’t stop thinking about it.

When he closes the call he promises Robin he will call his therapist and ask for an appointment soon, then he turns toward the kitchen where the tranquilizers are waiting for him.

Four drops under the tongue.

Steve grabs the bottle and slowly unscrews the cap, staring at the dark liquid, before closing the bottle and putting it back on the counter.

Not tonight.

Tonight he wants to be alert.

He goes into the bathroom, brushes his teeth, puts on worn-out pajamas, and goes to bed, waiting for whatever might come.

***

Steve’s dreaming. He knows he’s with the certainty typical of dreams. Still, he can’t wake up.

In the dream, he’s running toward the trailer park after they almost killed Vecna. He knows exactly what he will find, bike tracks and footsteps left by someone limping. He’ll follow them and he will find a crying Dustin holding a dead Eddie. Steve keeps reminding himself that it’s just a dream, that this is a mix of his memories and his fears, but nevertheless, when he sees the limp body on the ground he yells Eddie’s name. He runs toward him, trying to shake him awake even if he knows that there’s nothing he can do to bring him back.

“It’s too late, Stevie” Eddie whispers, opening his eyes and staring back at him, “Why did you leave me alone with Dustin? You knew it was dangerous, but you left me. And with no fucking weapons apart from a stupid trash lid and a makeshift spear. What did you expect? It was two of us against hundreds, thousands of those fucking monsters. Where were you when I was screaming in agony? Where were you when Dustin was holding me? Where were you when we needed you?”

Finally, Steve opens his eyes, springing up in his bed, fist clenching at the sheets and heart beating so loudly he fears it will jump out from his chest at any moment.

“Nightmares? I wish I could get those. I don’t dream. Like, at all. It’s so boring.”

Steve turns abruptly toward the window and sees a dark silhouette sitting on the edge of the window.

“Eddie?” He asks, while his right hand slowly reaches out for the bedside lamp, but instead of turning it on his hand bumps into it and it crashes on the ground, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces.

“I knew you wouldn't forget me.” Eddie chuckles.

“That’s not possible. You’re dead!” Steve complains, wondering if this is just another nightmare and cursing himself for not taking his fucking sleeping meds.

“Everything is possible, Steve, you should know it by now. Alternate dimensions, monsters, superpowers. There’s no limit, right?”

“How… How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy. First I got to your old place, but you weren’t there, obviously. I checked Robin’s home, and Dustin’s, but Hawkins is abandoned, you knew that, right? All that’s left are crumbling buildings and useless trash. So I started to move around, but it wasn't easy to find a ride and I had no idea where to go. And then I got here in Massachusetts, and for the first time, I felt your presence. So here I am.” Eddie says like it was perfectly normal that he was resting in Steve’s home, with one leg dangling and one to his chest.

“You’re dead.”

“Yes. And no.”

“What… what does it mean?”

“It means that those stupid bats took my life, but they gave me another one.” Eddie finally turns toward Steve and his eyes are shining in the dark.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“Come on, don’t be so naive. I know you feel it too. Not as strongly as me, obviously, but still. You got infected too.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“The bites. Do they still hurt? Do you have strange cravings, especially at night? Like a big raw steak? Not just raw, but bloody?”

Steve trembles, he did. Before the sleeping meds he did, but now he’s getting better.

“That’s the effect of the venom.” Eddie explains, “I think it took longer in your case because you were bitten just a few times, but hey, at least you’re going to have a mentor. I can teach you all I learned on my skin.”

“What? No, I’m not like that!” Steve protests, but Eddie gives him a sad smile.

“Steve… you just broke a lamp.”

“I hit it.”

“With your inhuman strength.”

“No that’s not true I…” but when he looks at his blanket they are shreds, and his fingers have long claws he’s sure he didn’t have before.

“Let’s go, babe. The world is big and beautiful, but we must flee before sunrise.”

“What about Robin? And the kids?”

“You know what, Steve? This is a very bad part of the town to live in.” Eddie grins.

***

The next day, when Steve doesn’t show up at work and doesn’t pick up his phone, Robin goes to his place, only to find the door ripped off and blood on Steve’s sheets.

[jimmy-johns-was-taken]

Hello!! Sorry if I'm late, but congratulations on graduating high school! Can I request Jeff the killer x fem reader. Where Jeff thought the reader was another weak victim but then ended up getting his butt kicked by her. Slow burn since the reader doesn't trust him. Tyy ❤️ hope you get into the colleges/university you want!!

awwwww thank you!! Everyone of y’all are really too sweet, I really appreciate you all 🥰

!Split between Headcanons and fic? I hope that’s ok? And I might do I part 2? Where he confesses ofc ofc ????

Jeff the Killer x Reader who beat his ass

Bro, he just wanted a kill

that was it

but no

jk jk, I support readers beating Jeff’s ass

he snuck in one night, hoping to get in a quick kill and steal some money

he was running a little low on money and he owed BEN some

and your apartment just happened to be there

sneaking in, Jeff could hear the tv running

there you were, sitting in the small living room with a bowl of cereal in hand

Quick and easy, slit your throat from behind and be done

but no

he approaches, you turn around and throw the bowl at him

”BITCH WHAG THE FUCK”

he’s angry, ofc

tries to kill you

Epic fail

You beat him up

Small little fic under the cut

Jeez, there was nothing good on TV. You scrolled through channels mindlessly, eventually ending up on some cheesy horror movie. You sat and ate a bowl of cereal, eyes glued to the TV. Completely unaware of the cheap Joker knock-off breaking through your front door.

Jeffrey was in desperate need of a little bit of cash. He owed BEN, who was getting impatient with Jeff about the money. So, what’s the plan? Break into a random apartment, kill a victim or two, steal the money, and pay BEN back. Simple, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong.

Breaking in was easy enough, picking the lock and making sure to stay quiet. Jeff had done this plenty of times, he was an expert. He glanced around the little walkway, noting the shoes thrown about and keys on the table by the door. The TV caught his attention however. You were awake, which could prove an obstacle for him. Oh well, no matter.

Stalking into the apartment, Jeff grabbed his favorite knife. Quickly going to slit your throat, he was not ready for what came next. Something wet hit is face, along with small pellets? Then, a large bowl smacked him square in the forehead.

“Oh what the hell?!” He swore out, not paying attention to you running off. He looked at the ground, seeing milk and cereal everywhere. You threw a fucking bowl of cereal at him?!? What the hell?!?!

You heard him come in the moment he began to mess with your locks. Preparing the milk assault, you were ready for him. You dashed off, sprinting to your room to grab a small army knife and slip out the window. A fire escape would be easy and maybe you wouldn’t have to fight this guy head on.

Spilling into your room, you grabbed the knife sitting in your nightstand before whipping around. The man, maybe 6 feet tall, stood in the doorway, knife held tightly.

“You do not know who you’re messing with,” he threatened. Getting a good look at his face, a small chuckle left you. That pissed him off even more.

“Why do serious?” You asked, laughing. This joker knock-off really wanted to threaten you? Bitch please, you were just going to make fun of him. Not another word was spoken as he charged at you, knife held high. You dodged and ran out of the room, heading toward the front door. He yanked your hair back just as you turned the corner.

“Got anymore jokes?” His smile grew impossibly wider.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” a shadow covered your face, “I’m Batman.” You dropped your voice low, a smirk making its way to your face. You stomped on his foot, wiggling free. You took off once more, throwing open the front door. Running out the door, you jumped down the stairs and sprinted across the parking lot to your car. Finally turning around, the killer was no where in site. What the fuck?

A few hours later and the police had swept your small apartment. No trace of the killer was found, but a destroyed apartment that would take hours to clean up. The police got your statement and left, which left you alone to pick up the cereal and milk. You were angry, of course, and slightly afraid. Would he return? With a vengeance? You giggled at the word “vengeance”, remembering the Batman references you made.

A sick and twisted part of you hoped he returned.

[1000sunnygo]

One Piece Academy chapter 41: The Dark Bingo Tournament, part 2 (Quick translation)

source | part 1 | index

[8 p.m., A certain building in the Grand City]

[The great Bingo Tournament]

[introduction box: The Emperors of the Dark World]

"All set! Let's begin, shall we...."

"... Joker?"

Doffy: Fufufu... So you do have Bingo, too.

[Introduction box: Donquixote Family 3rd year, Trebol kun]

Trebol: Nnene~I wonder what's the prize is, Doffy...?

The Emperor (Lu Feld): You have only one executive? Where are the rest?

Doffy: Seeing my face isn't enough for you?

Cora: There's no doubt, these are the Dark World's Emperors.

Zoro: Emperors, huh...

Luffy: Crazy looking old men!

Law: Trebol is gonna be a pain in the ass.

Usoop (whispering): No but, for real, this meeting is a bad news!!

Sanji: That said, I was thinking how unsuitable this team is for infiltration. But Law and Corazon's abilities are a complete game changer!

[Flashback starts]

Cora: *flip* Silent!

Luffy: Mn? It has gotten quiet.

Corazon: A protective barrier. Can't hear anything from outside here, can you? No one outside can hear us, either.

I'm the man who ate the Nagi Nagi no Mi...the Silence Man.

There's more to it, so let's talk while walking!

Look at that, everyone!

All sound that comes from my influence just disappears with this ability!

CALM!

My guy casually breaking the glass

Law: ROOM

Shambles!

Security: Huh?

.....????

Notice: [Glasses broke, don't worry]

this is so low effort

[Flashback ends]

Luffy: Making no sound is such an interesting ability!

Sanji: Totally. It's perfect for infiltration.

Zoro: We did practically nothing to get here.

Usopp: You can say that again!

...........

Luffy+Zoro+Sanji : Doesn't it mean you two were enough for this?

Law: I've been TELLING YOU THAT!

Cora: Keep your guard up, Law.. I can't put up the soundproof barrier to hear the conversation below.

Law: And speaking of past, Cora san, only if you didn't lose that card game match so miserably.... Well, forget it...

Usopp: Right now they're just having a Bingo tournament. Maybe it'll just be a face-to-face meeting!

Sanji: Say, Corazon.

Cora: What is it, Sanji?

Sanji: Why did Doflamingo come here?

Getting himself involved with those folks of the darkness....

What does he plan to gain?

Doffy: Fufufufu... "Bingo."

Cora: Doffy wants to destroy the World. That's all there is.

Zoro: What do you mean by "the World?"

Cora: Literally that.

The town, the school, whatever there is.

Everything that gave him pain...

The World that to Doffy... is too mundane and deeply unforgivable.

Continues in Reblog ⬇️

[mixedupmelody]

tough guy.

notes: someone needs to seriously make an effort to bruise these guys' ego a little. the t-birds in GENERAL need to come with a warning sign saying "Will Not Show Affection in Public".

contains: danny zuko x gender neutral reader , kenickie murdoch x female reader

characters: danny zuko, kenickie murdoch, t-birds and pink ladies (briefly mentioned)

warnings: swearing, suggestive themes and dialouge

. ☁️ .

꒰ danny. ꒱

“ 'S cool with me, baby. ” Danny holds a hand around your waist, taking care not to look into your eyes. God, he could stare at them for hours. He'd live a happy life if all he ever saw was those eyes. But he can't look at you. Not now. The T-Birds stare at him, almost as if they were waiting on their leader to slip up and say something cheesy. “ I'll see you after school, beautiful. ”

You press a quick kiss to his lips, before walking off to your next class. You knew his status meant something to him, and weren't trying to put him in an annoying spot with his friends. Danny's shoulders relax as you walk off, eyes trailing after you as if he could keep you next to him with his mind.

Danny is the leader of the T-Birds, so he's held to a somewhat higher standard than the rest of the guys. Out of all of them, he's suppossed to be the most macho, the most hard-headed, and the most gutsy member all into one. In between all the turf wars and fights at school, he's the face of their gang that let's everyone know he means business.

And then you came along. You managed to break through his tough exterior and unlock a sweeter, more sensitive side of him. He couldn't help but feel like a total melvin each time he dressed up nice to bring you flowers, or when he put his best efforts into not getting fresh with you when you invited him to your place to study after school.

To him, it's all worth it. Just seeing that smile on your face is enough to keep him going through the exhaustion he feels trying to keep his pure, romantic advancements under wraps.

꒰ kenickie. ꒱

Kenickie's hand reaches dangerously close to your ass as you sit with him at The Frosty Palace. As the T-Birds and Pink Ladies chat at their shared booth, Kenickie made sure to show off that he was a certified ladies man. And what better way to show that than messing around with his girl while they ate?

“ If these jokers keep this shitty conversation up, i'll just have to take ya' home for some real fun. ” You could tell he was practically working overtime tonight. With all those notes you left in his lunch, you were more than sure he was trying to make up the jokes he was subjected to. It's not that he really cared what the guys would think, they knew he would knock them out before they had the chance to flap their gums for too long, but it was a matter of dignity!

Kenickie Murdouch would rather die than let the guys think he's gone soft. He's a rockin', smooth talkin' rebel who's all bark. At least, until he started going steady with you. He feels all mixed up, wanting to treat you nice while also having to be on the look out for the other T-Birds.

God forbid you ever give him a tender kiss in front of his friends at school, or make him quiet a quick "i love you too" when you part ways in the halls. The guys will rip on him for as long as Kenickie will take it, making obnoxious kissing noises and jokingly threaten to take his second-in-command spot.

If they push him too far, he'll switch right back into greaser mode, and threaten to knock the living daylights out of them. They shut up quickly after that.

There's been at least one instance where you and Kenickie were on a date at The Frosty Palace, sharing a milkshake. As you two are talking, he laughs, slamming his hand on the table, and the milkshake splashes on the tip of his nose. When you go to clean his face for him, the other T-Birds barge in through those glass doors. It almost feels unreal how accurate their timing is. You hear a chorus of "oooo!"s as you clean his face, trying your best to calm your boyfriend down before he loses his cool.

You don't see his walls go down often, even when you're by yourselves. Give him time.

[bestjeanistmonster]

So how many times has Sonic found organs, eyeballs, and maybe bones in the fridge? It seems like quiet a lot, and was he phased the first time it happened or did he just shrug like "that's pookies' business"

Tw// mentions of gore and cannibalism

Shadow keeps his fridge and his freezer well stocked! The organs in there are either snacks for Shadow, food for Shadow’s plants or for plant experiments

When sonic first looks into his fridge he didn’t question it much, he just gave him a jab about the lack of snacks

When primarily living with the Joker you get accustomed to seeing body parts on the floor, the casual corpse, witnessing/causing the odd gruesome death a couple times a week and with that big hammer you can imagine that the deaths it causes aren’t exactly the cleanest when it comes to people’s insides, so Sonic isn’t really phased by it

Sonic did however do a double when he found out that Shadow ate people dcufyfxutx

Sonic: what else is on that criminal record of yours? vandalism? Cannibalism? Pffft you have you eaten a guy before Shadow? (Laughs)

Shadow:…

Sonic: (laughter slowly dies) you haven’t eaten a guy before, right?

Shadow neither confirms nor denies this cuz he finds Sonic’s reactions to the hints of his cannibalistic nature to be funny. Like sometimes vaguely hinting that the fried chicken he ate for lunch wasn’t actually chicken and Sonic’s like:

But it doesn’t take too long for him to get used to it

[j0kers-light]

🥁anon here!

Do you think the Joker would ever let his light do his face paint on day? I can’t help but smile at the thought; Joker sitting still with his eyes closed like those kids who’re getting painted as a tiger at the fair, patiently waiting. Everything would be done with precision: sharp smile, blacked out eyes (don’t even think about one of the dark circles being slightly bigger/wonkier than the other- we gotta start from scratch!). I doubt he’d let his light use setting powder, eyeliner and/or lip liner before going out to wreak havoc, but oh boy- all it takes is one evening before Joker is strutting around with a glam look💃🕺

Get in here 🥁 anon!!

Ah yes my summer love let’s talk about this!! 🖤✨

Absolutely!! You already know the man behind the makeup so applying it is a piece of cake.

You break out your makeup brushes, create a playlist, and get to work beating Joker’s face. He needed this.

If J has time to spare, he’ll let you do a full face application but time is short so stick to foundation and eyeshadow to keep him moving. Boooooo

Ohhhhh but full coverage nights are your favorite. Joker lets you cleanse his face with masks and serums before pushing his hair back with a cute headband. You giggle as he sits there so patiently, almost like a kid.

“Uh… Bunny? You gonna doll me up or what?”

That gets you moving to prime his face with only the best products on the market and you talk about which products you’re using as you create your masterpiece.

His foundation ain’t budging you hear me? Those black circles are immaculate! Symmetrical and darker than the moon. You ate that 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

And his signature red smile? Never looked better. Yes, yes he makes you smear it along the edges of his scars for that ‘sinister look’ but you get a little too carried away while kissing him I mean smudging the lipstick.

Joker doesn’t mind your odd method of applying lipstick. He loves the shade better on you anyway and he loves your lips on his even more.

You pull away to hide your flustered cheeks and tell J to close his eyes.

You go a little heavy on the setting powder but it gives him that haunting look he’s going for. No more runny makeup after two hours on the town. (See below)

Like what is this???? No baby. Not with Y/n doing J’s makeup we ain’t. Don’t get me wrong, 🤤 it’s hot but heh… give me a minute. This pic always gets me in a chokehold… wow. Those lips tho..

MOVING RIGHT ALONG! 👀 You love doing Joker’s makeup just as much as you love taking it off when he comes home.

[ohnonononononono567]

Fool - Jason Todd x gn!reader (fluff???? angst??? dont quote me)

(I have never written a thing in my life aside from mandatory essays in school, nor posted on tumblr)

You popped into the Red Hoods life suddenly. He was disgusted by it. How gentle you were, how you looked at him as if he could treat you right. It felt wrong.

Your little college student life. How you slept peacefully at night, only to wake up to see a cat at your window and to grab a cup of water. It was nauseating.

He considered kissing you his first mistake. Holding your waist to keep you steady, his mask left on your bedside table, as if it wasn't the last thing countless of people have seen before pain befell them. He did good leaving you for a month after that. Never bothering to show up at your window, nor a bouquet at your door. He should've never gotten you accustomed to that treatment.

Seeing you upset didn't hurt him. You need toughening up. This world needs toughening up. The rats he ate in Jokers hold didn't care if he cried, why should he? Yet he found himself falling into your clumsy, yet tearful embrace, wiping away your tears with a huff, lightly patting your cheek and telling you to get over it. When it didn't work, he did what he always knew to do. Adapt. He tried to make you laugh. He allowed the gentle pads of your fingers infect his skin. He let you see parts of him he locked away for a reason.

He felt disgusting for all of this. He doesn't need any of this. He's hurt too many to even acknowledge what one person may or may not care about.

He kept your apartment clean. He hated if it was anything but. Falling into the soft cushions of your sofa after a long night, just to wake up to your smell having left the dingy little apartment for your 9AM class. Must be nice.

On the worst nights of this infectious disease you've given him, he found himself at your bedside as you rest, hands clasped together as he prayed to whoever would listen you'd be safe. That you'd cure him and he'd leave you alone. That no harm would ever come towards you.

He wanted you to leave Gotham. Every goddamn day. He wanted you gone. 

And when you'd leave HIM alone, saying you "respect that he needs space right now", he'd call bullshit. You don't respect him. You will leave and hurt him.

He knew he was wrong, all the goddamn time. Whether it was ordering his men to raid a safe house belonging to the Black Mask knowing it would prove fruitless, whether it was to run away from connecting with Bruce in any meaningful way, or whether even through his fits of just what can only be described as a temper tantrum in his eyes, you still fell into his arms, connecting yourself to him only when he allowed it. The world never deserved you. Reality would hit someday, and one fateful day, you'll learn to be as bitter as him.

But he won't allow that to be today. Today he'll sit with the person plaguing every nerve in his body, on a scrappy leather couch only a college student would see as luxury, and the back of your head will rest on his shoulder. He'll inspect every finger of yours, partly to try and find evidence of the magic you might have contained to make him feel like this, before bringing those fingers to his chapped lips, just to remind himself you're here with him. It's not a mental break. He is not a teenager being electrocuted by a Dr. Harleen Quinzel to learn to hate Bruce Wayne, hallucinating an image of who he assumes to be God and mentally beg for his forgiveness. He is here. With you. And the scars have healed. 

Fools call it love. Jason wasn't a fool, but he'd allow himself to be. Just for the moment. He wanted to vomit, but he knew if he did, you'd hold his hair for him.

You're a fool.

[voidcat]

— a gallery

characters: Dazai Osamu, you, mentions of various bsd characters but mostly dazai focused

song: always forever by cults

notes: idek, another niche analysis type of dazai drabble. If u know u know… it’s 2am and I’m tired

The realization dawns upon Dazai Osamu on a mundane tuesday, as any other revelation regarding himself does.

Not a lightning struck down his back, no hairs jolting up from the shock, no tiny caricature icons popping up in his head with a loud ‘eureka!’.

No, it happens so ungracefully, so mundane and ordinary- like any other human would realize in a moment that they’re hungry.

A growl coming from the stomach, loud enough to ring in their ears: “huh, I must be hungry.” And they don’t even bother to recall when was the last time they ate anything of note.

Picture the most ordinary tuesday possible, at a metro station crowded as ever, nothing sticking out, just people in their daily rush and silence, ever following the unspoken ethics and moral codes, not even a strand of hair dangles out of order.

In a day like any, sitting on the benches, one foot swinging ever so slightly, Dazai Osamu thinks to himself: “I like collecting people, huh.”

And the punchline that should await at the end never arrives, followed by no moment of surprise.

Perhaps it’s because he has been aware of the notion for a long while now, deciding to word it out in his mind, into existence, finally accepting the existence of another child of secret.

All those interesting and challenging, those few that can be useful, those that provide a good run for his money- or for his mind—

His little galleria, natural museum of freaks and eccentrics, his little archive of situations-to-come and points-to-reach.

Maybe the truth is so far from startling because he has known for a while- back when he first noticed the signs; how his interest piques at times, toward certain people— thus he searches to chase that high, sink in his claws slowly but steadily, provide a feeling of vulnerability and trust, a picture perfect painting of an open book he becomes to the outer eye; known only by few who can connect the dots and see the bigger scenery that he is farthest away from that; an open book, people think, when its been locked tight, key smashed into pieces and throwing into the running stream.

Give him that rush of adrenaline once and he will chase and chase, make you feel the most important in the world for a while- or just overwhelmed, depending on his current status in your eyes; keep it up, toy and play until he grows bored and pulls away abruptly one day.

Another train passes by swiftly as his coat shivers by the current.

Leave as quick as he came into your life, your daily routine, the effect leaving a space difficult to fill in its absence.

Collect and keep each and every in his pocket, or in a locket if he fancies the situation. Create the illusion of something twisted and beautiful, spontaneous and so beautiful, only for the ugly truth to surface when it’s already too late and you’ve served the purpose he has intended for you since the very first meeting of the eyes.

To fill a void that’s been in with him since he can remember, a joker card, or just a meeting of the minds, an instant click— all kinds of purposes he collects, one by one he picks with the overcrowding fear and realization that it can be as quick that he loses, drives people away or himself. Close enough to touch but keep at an arms length- resort when he deems necessary, when the loneliness becomes unbearable, when the situation requires a third intervention from the sidelines.

Another train passes in a hurry as heels of someone echoes in the station, one last attempt to catch it, that next 10 minutes too precious for a wait.

Always a collector, back when in the mafia, even now still in the agency.

The wild card of red saved for delicate situations that require the brute, the sharp card of black with red lining tucked in the back but an eye always kept, beige card comes out more often than not.

Like a collector, he takes out the file and examines the cards one by one, simply because he can; watch how the tiger squirms and shies away, still doing as he asks; the waitresses huff and swing their notebooks his way, not accounting for his speed of dodge; some don’t respond, those cards remain without a sound and without a shine in their eyes; some give him that delicious attention he seeks, the devotion and focus he enjoys, how you look at him with big eyes, laugh, joke back or just sigh and roll your eyes away.

His ever growing personal collection, worse than the dragon’s perhaps; his purposes leaning more on the selfish, primal desires. All the while ignoring their one common purpose, how each and every is a back up, a just-in-case; why should he admit? When he always surrounds himself with just the right amount of people with the proper amount of interactions.

The air begins to chill as the sky changes its shades, trains never once stopping, stream of people never ending. Someone near him stands with ear phones plugged in, doing a poor job of filtering the sound of whatever it is they’re listening. The sound of drum rolls increase with each beat, each breath, his eyes remain cast on the moving shades.

And so Dazai Osamu continues to collect people, always ignoring the rapidly growing solitude within himself, the storm of melancholy that rages in himself, that void deep and dark— destructive enough like a black hole, always taking and taking, never taking a second for a pause, for a breath.

[writtenjewels]

I Chose You

Shepard sat at the desk in his quarters, staring at the wall. His fingers were threaded together, his chin propped on top of the joined hands. He wanted his thoughts to drift in the same way the Normandy was currently, floating through space with no clear destination. Joker had been puzzled when Shepard gave that order, but followed without argument.

In truth, they didn't have time for drifting, either by thought or by ship. The threat of the Reapers was looming and they all knew it was only a matter of time before Saren found that last missing piece to start the invasion. They all knew this and Shepard still ordered this down-time. No one questioned him or raised an objection.

Because Ashley deserved this moment of silence.

As commanding officer, Shepard faced a lot of hard choices. He knew when he applied for officer training that he was accepting this burden. He was witness to the consequences first-hand when his entire unit was wiped out by that thresher maw. But even that loss didn't make him feel half as bad as this.

Time had slowed down there on Virmire. Kaidan was with the bomb, ready to go down with it; Ashley was with the salarians fighting for her life. It was obvious only one of them could make it out.

And Shepard chose Kaidan. No, it wasn't Shepard, commander of the Normandy making that choice. It was Jack, and it was that distinction that ate him up inside.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Shepard invited. He finally turned his eyes away from the wall. The door slid open and Kaidan stepped inside. Shepard was going to be sick. The one person he wanted to see most but felt too damn guilty to go.

“Hey.” Kaidan had two mug in his hand. He held one out. “I thought you might need some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Shepard rose to take it, sipping the drink and sighing as the hot liquid slid down his throat. He hadn't realized how cold he was. Kaidan took a sip of his own coffee. “You made a pot just for us?” Shepard asked him.

“Like I said, I thought you might need it.” They both took another drink. Shepard could sense Kaidan waiting for him to speak.

“I have a feeling you didn't come here just to have coffee with me.”

“No,” Kaidan agreed. “I wanted to offer an ear, if you needed one. You've given yours to me more than enough times.”

“I don't know what I can say. I chose you.”

“You had to make a call,” Kaidan reasoned.

“You don't get it.” Shepard set the mug on his desk. He might regret it, but it was fair for Kaidan to know the truth. “I didn't choose Staff Lieutenant Alenko; I didn't choose the valuable human biotic. I chose you. I didn't think about anything else at the time except, 'I can't lose him'.”

Kaidan went stiff, his breath catching in his lungs. His cheeks turned a little pink. The mug shook in his hand. To his credit, Kaidan didn't drop the thing. He wrapped his other hand around it to keep it more steady, dropping his eyes down to stare into the mug.

“I... think I need time to process that,” he said at last.

“Sorry, I—I thought I should tell you.”

“Is that why you ordered this ship-wide moment of silence?”

“Yeah.” Shepard let out the word in a tired breath. Kaidan pressed his lips together in that way he had when he was thinking hard. He stepped forward to place his mug on the table.

“You know, I don't think I would have done it differently, if it was between you and someone else.” The words sent a tingling energy through Shepard's body. His heart beat a little faster. Kaidan cocked his head to the side and gave him a humorless smile. “I guess that's just something we'll both have to live with.”

Shepard stood there still trying to process what he heard. Now he was the one with air caught in his lungs. He wanted to make it more clear what they were both saying, but the words were caught in his throat. He reached for his coffee and took a drink to steady himself.

“I'm going to tell Joker to set a course,” he decided. His eyes met Kaidan's. “Maybe when this thing with Saren is over, we can talk more about this.”

“For that to happen, we both have to make it through,” Kaidan pointed out. “I think, in order to spare either of us from making a tough call, we should do this together.”

Shepard managed something close to a smile. “That I can live with.”

[beelsnack]

Imperfect - Obey Me! Boys and an MC With Scars

Continuing my trend of hyper-specific self-insert fics lol

This is me projecting a little bit, I have quite a few scars. I'm diabetic, so I don't heal very well. Also, the scenario described in Mammon's part actually happened to me, so...yeah, ya boi is projecting.

There is a part two in the works, I just don't want to make this post too long.

Content Warning: Mention of self-harm in Belphie's part.

-----

Lucifer: “Can I ask you something?”

The two of them were enjoying a rare moment of peace, sipping on hot drinks together in the early morning. Most of the occupants of the House of Lamentation were still asleep, or the ones that were awake were busy doing their own thing. For once, it felt like the world was allowing them to take a break.

Lucifer set his coffee cup down and regarded them with the soft, fond look that he seemed to reserve for them alone. “Of course, my dear.”

“If you could…” the human cleared their throat, shifting their weight around nervously. “If you could get rid of my scars, would you?”

Lucifer’s expression hardened, and for a moment they were worried they had made him angry. An apology was halfway out of their mouth when Lucifer stood, making his way over to their side and cradling their chin in his gloved hand.

“If you wished it, it would be so,” he rubbed a thumb over one of the pock-marks on their cheek. Not only had cystic acne left a constellation of marks across their face, they had always bruised easily so even the mildest of injuries left scars. 

“But you are exactly the way you need to be as you are,” Lucifer continued. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

Mammon: “Did it hurt?”

At first the human thought that Mammon was attempting to use a cheesy and potentially blasphemous pick up line on them. But when they looked up from the TV show the two of them were watching while curled up in their bed, they realized that he was looking at the faded red-purple marks adorning their legs.

“Well, it didn’t fucking tickle.”

Mammon flushed. “I didn’t - I mean - uh, shit, um - “

They shoved him good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Both of them sat in silence before they decided the awkward tension was too much. “You wanna know how I got these scars?” they asked, in a terrible Joker impression.

“Not if you’re gonna sound like Heath Ledger while telling me.” 

The human snorted. “It’s not even that cool, honestly. I was helping move some furniture, and the house had a pretty long set of concrete steps. I was going backwards down the steps, lost my footing and ate it from about six feet in the air.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Mammon hissed, wincing in sympathy.

“I have one on my arm, too, but that one’s a bit more faded,” they held up their forearm. The discolored patch of skin was barely visible in the dim light from the TV, but Mammon could still tell it couldn’t have been a pleasant experience. “Had a split second to chose between bashing my head in or fucking up my arm.”

“...I’m glad you chose your arm?” Mammon shrugged.

“Me too,” they laughed.

Leviathan: He was staring.

The human was starting to get a little uncomfortable with how intensely Levi was looking at their face. They knew the scar on the left side of their face was intense - it had been a constant reminder of the house fire they had survived when they were younger. But Levi didn’t have to stare at it like he was committing it to memory.

“I’m just thinking…”

“Thinking about what?” The human wished they had a hood to hide behind or something, they were starting to get angry. 

Levi must have realized his error, because he suddenly turned bright red and looked away, hand covering the lower half of his face in embarrassment.  The human felt a little bad, but at least Levi wasn’t gawking at them anymore.

“...y’look…lrpzuko…”

“...Come again?” 

“I said you look like Prince Zuko!” Levi blurted before pressing his hand harder against his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m just gonna - “

“Wait,” the human pulled up their phone camera. “...I kind of see it, holy shit.”

Satan: “So where did this come from, anyway?”

He knew it probably was committing some sort of social faux pas to ask, but Satan was a curious creature by nature, and he figured that he and the human were close enough. Figuratively and literally, considering they were laying with their head in his lap while the two of them were reading.

When they made an inquisitive noise, he idly drew a clawed finger down the long, jagged scar decorating their forearm. He felt them stiffen against his legs, and when he looked up he saw the apprehension on their face.

“I…God, it’s so stupid…”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Satan urged. They hesitated a bit before sighing.

“I was fighting with this kid in…it was either middle school or early high school. I went to walk away because I was kind of getting sick of arguing with the moron, but when I turned around they shoved me hard enough to knock me over. I kinda like…flung my arm up, to protect my face, y’know? And since it was outside it got all scraped up. Never healed fully, I guess, so now I have this.”

Satan hummed thoughtfully, tracing the outline of the scar. It was faint, barely visible in dim lighting, but it was obvious that the human wished it wasn’t there.

“You fought back, right?”

“Duh.”

Asmo: “You seem very focused there, darling. Don’t quite know your shade?”

The two of them had been standing in the foundation section of the local Dephora for a while now. Asmodeus knew the store like the back of his hand and had already scooped up all of his favorite products in addition to a couple new drops that had made their way onto Devilgram. The human, however, hadn’t moved for about 20 minutes.

“I mean…I know my shade, but…” they hesitated, hand idly drifting towards the side of their neck. “Coverage is more what I’m worried about.” 

Asmo’s brows furrowed. The human had a scar from when they got splashed with hot oil as a child, and they were notoriously self-conscious about it. Aesthetically, Asmo understood - it wasn’t pretty, it looked like it had hurt and if he could he would use every bit of his magical power to get rid of it completely. But it was part of the human, and Asmo loved it regardless.

He slipped a hand overtop of the humans, causing them to look up at him with worried eyes. Asmo’s own eyes softened, and he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to their forehead. “Darling, if you do want to cover it up to boost your confidence, I will gladly help you pick out foundation and concealer. But you know you don’t have to if you truly don’t want to, right? That I’ll love you no matter what?”

The human looked away, but Asmo still caught the shy smile they wore as they leaned into his hand. “I know.”

Beelzebub: “Can I help you?”

Admittedly, the human was a little paranoid about whether or not people were staring at them. But this time, it was very clear that Beelzebub was staring at them, and they weren’t sure how they felt about it. They were cooking dinner, after all, they might not even be the thing that Beel was staring at.

“That mark on your shoulder.” 

Immediately, the human tensed up. They had thought that the shirt they were wearing covered up the conspicuous birthmark on their right shoulder, but apparently not. “What about it?”

Beel paused for a moment. “It looks like a potato.”

They turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Does it? I can’t really see it all that often.”

“Mm,” Beel nodded before unfolding himself from the stool he was sitting on and coming up to hug the human from behind. He leaned down to nuzzle affectionately against the mark, and the human felt their apprehension begin to bleed away. “I like it. It makes you, you.”

They remained silent for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of their lips. “Thanks, Beel.”

Belphegor: “Did you do that to yourself?”

It took a minute for the human to realize what Belphie was talking about. They had just changed into their pajamas, and they honestly had thought Belphie was asleep. But apparently he had been awake enough to notice the evenly-spaced cut marks along the insides of their thighs.

“...Yeah,” they muttered, hiding their face in his chest. So much for a peaceful night’s sleep. “A while ago.”

“Why?”

They shrugged. Honestly, thinking about that particular time in their life wasn’t something they did often, at least not consciously. Every time they did, their heart rate increased, their breathing sped up, and it suddenly felt like they were in that dark room again with nothing but their spiraling thoughts - 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Belphe muttered against their hair. “Stay with me, now, okay?”

He ran a hand up and down their back soothingly, and it would never surprise them how gentle Belphegor could be for a demon.

“You want to know what I think?” Belphie allowed his fingers to trace the marks along their thighs, but the touch was distinctly platonic. 

“Mm?”

“I think,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of their head. “That you were going through a lot, and those scars are proof that you made it through.”

The human stilled, processing, before they snuggled deeper into Belphie’s embrace. “You think so?”

“Mm-hm,” he hummed sleepily, hand stilling against the small of their back. “Not that I’m glad you have them, mind you, but nobody goes through hell completely unscathed and you shouldn’t feel ashamed of them.”

[le-sluagh]

#12 Incorrect Batman: Vigilante (My AU)

Penguin: Mad Hatter learned how to fold origami penguins from me the other day. I told him as a joke, “I feel a little bad for the penguins, it’s hot here”, and the next day he put them in the fridge.

*****

Catwoman: It's locked. You got a lock pick?

Riddler: Yeah-

Two Face: *kicks in the door*

*****

Riddler: Hey, check out my Question Mark umbrella!

*Riddler opens his umbrella while indoors*

Mad Hatter: Riddler, that’s bad luck…

Riddler: Chill out, Mad Hatter!

Scarecrow, kicking down the door: WHO SUMMONED ME?!?!

Riddler and Mad Hatter: *screams*

*****

Joker: *walking around disappointed after visiting an aquarium*

Lex Luthor: Joker, what did you think a tiger shark was?

*****

Two Face: WHO ATE MY BREAD?!

Two Face: I'M GOING TO FUCKING K-

Grace Lamont: I did?

Harvey Dent: Kiss you and buy some more, you haven't been eating anything today, Grace.

*****

Riddler: I love being right. It’s one of my favorite personality traits.

*****

Lex Luthor: Some people say that I have a god complex. I’d like to think that I’m a complex god.

*****

Mad Hatter: I have a bad feeling about this...

Scarecrow: What do you mean?

Mad Hatter: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?

Scarecrow: No?

Riddler: That actually explains so much.

*****

Computer: Please enter a password.

Joker: *types in Batman*

Computer: Your password is too weak.

Joker: How DARE YOU-

*****

March Harriet: Do you feel any better?

Mad Hatter: I feel much better now that you here with me.

*Music Meister walks in*

Mad Hatter: I feel half better.

*****

Bane: Can I have your number?

Scarecrow, visible texting: I don't have a phone.