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Musings of a Riddler
Love at first sight.
I'm still not sure I believe in that.
At least not the whole deal.
You don't just look at someone and say, "Yep! Gonna marry them." with absolute certainty unless it's one of those sugary sweet love stories that are told by people of a very different generation.
So I don't believe in full on, never-going-to-let-you-go love at first sight.
But I know that when I met Jonathan Crane, I fell.
And I fell hard.
Oh, Jonathan Crane.
What a guy.
What a name, really, all hard edges.
Looking back on it, I suppose you could say that I never really bonded with anyone before him.
Sure, I knew other people and had my share of alliances and, dare I say it, friendships.
But no one was ever quite like Jonathan.
Oh, let's face it.
No one was ever anywhere near like Jonathan.
He was sharp and moody and snippy and angry and tall and dark and hands-
But I'm getting carried away.
My point is- Jonathan Crane wasn't a "nice man".
But he was never boring.
He was sharp, but he was a
Let the Games Begin
He was on a game show.
He was on a game show!
Edward Nygma grinned. Practically every gameshow on the air could recognize him and turn him away as an unfair contestant, but now he was finally on one!
Actually it was a bit strange. He didn't remember coming here
"Hello, and welcome to Brain Trust, the hottest new game show in town! I'm your host: Jack Jokem!"
Eddie smirked. The name sounded fake. Still, the man did look sort of familiar
The host turned, black hair glistening almost dark green under the stage lights and grinned.
Eddie almost took a step back. He knew that smile. Everyone knew that smile.
"Well, now." Jack said, still grinning. "Today's contestant is the brilliant Edward Nygma!"
The Riddler smiled, forgetting his qualms as his ego was stroked. "The one and only."
"Of course." Jack purred. "Now, let me tell you how this works. First, you'll answer a question and, if you answer correctly, you can choose among several fabulous prizes! Are you ready?"
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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