deck yourself out

Imagine: You're the Jokers daughter and he catches you at his club

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Your friend Ava looked at you, her eyes petrified.
You both stood fixing your makeup in the bathroom of your dads club.
“Listen, we’re fine, my parents said they’ll be on the other side of Gotham tonight.” You shrugged to your friend as you ran red gloss over your lips.
“Yeah but you know your parents are a little…. unpredictable..”
“Oh don’t be a pussy, we have a better chance of running into the Batman!” You looked at yourself all dressed, you had ‘borrowed’ your mothers favorite club dress and decked yourself out in jewelry the king of gotham had gifted his princess. You grabbed Ava’s hand and headed out to the dance floor. The music gave you goosebumps as you moved to the beat. Your father never let you out of his sight. He was over protective, or possessive you didn’t know which but tonight you snuck out and were free. They were out robbing, killing, fighting you didn’t care… well you were a little jealous. But your father insisted 15 was still too young for the family business.
“Hey, y/n” Ava came to your ear “that guy at the bar is checkin you out.”
You glanced over your shoulder. Jaw line, tall, brunette. You liked what you saw, but was it enough to risk it? Being the Harley and Jokers daughter didn’t exactly make dating easy… well it made it lethal.
“I shouldn’t… what if-”
“Oh now whose being the pussy huh?” Ava smirked"
She gave you a little push and you walked to the bar. You looked forward feeling his eyes on you. You leaned on the counter “Champagne please!” The bartender gave you a nod.
“Fancy girl huh?” You knew it was him talking, you turned to your left. he was even prettier up close. “Why don’t I get that one for you?”
“No need! On the house as usual hun!” The bartender cut in and handed you the glass.
“You famous or something?” He boy took a sip of his drink
“No… just… my family knows him well.” You blushed as your lips tasted the bubbles.
“Oh connections huh? Well you should be famous, it’s a crime the whole world doesn’t know a face like that. Whats your name?”
You had to giggle at how cheesy the line was “I’m y/n, nice to meetcha!”
The boy slammed back his drink, “Mike, and it’s a pleasure gorgeous. Dance with me?”
He reached out his hand and you set your glass down and took it. He led you to the dance floor past Ava who was laughing while talking to her own man. The night was going just as you saw in movies. You threw your head back and smiled while you danced, you felt like years had passed but at the same time only minutes. 

After a while Michael grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. You put your hand on his chest, jolted by it.
“Easy Mike I hardly know ya”
He scoffed at you and wrapped his arms tighter around you.
“Hey come on I mean it.” You pushed out of his grasp.
“Pfff come out gorgeous, you wore that dress for a reason right?” He reached down to you and extended his hand. His fingers ran half way down your hair when it happened.
BANG BANG
The gun shots echoed. Out of the crowd walked the pale, green haired figure. His gun pointed up as glass fell from above. His eyes met yours and you could tell he was angry, but when he turned to Mike they became downright terrifying. His fingers were still in your hair when your father stepped up to him. He grabbed Mikes wrist and in 3 movements the cracking dropped him screaming to the floor. The crowd had cleared. Ava waved at you from across the room before running for the exit. You put your hands on your head, relieved and annoyed at the dramatics your father was performing.
“Oh tsk tsk tsk don’t cry little boy. That’s just what happens when you touch my things.” He smiled that smile and you knew what it meant. “Frost! Give my new toy the VIP treatment!” Frost walked to Mike still seething and grabbed him by the arm. He gave you that gentle ‘sorry kiddo’ smile and you smiled back. Frost was always in theory on your side. He took Mike to the back room. Your father turned to you.
“Princess do you have any idea how worried Daddy was about you?” He pushed your hair behind your ear “and I find that slime touching your perfect locks?”
“D-daddy you said you’d be out. Like far away” You said nervously crossing your arms “how did you-”
“Sh sh sh sh, I heard my little loony tune was out all dolled up and it wasn’t for me.” He put his arm around you and led you with him as he walked. As you both passed the bar he winked at the bartender he who nodded back. So that’s how he heard.
“I just wanted to have fun on my own for once, you never let me do anything.” you scoffed at him, you knew only you could talk to him like that.
You stopped at the back door and he raised your chin with his hand to look at him.
“Sweetheart Daddy’s job is to protect you”
“I thought you said your job was killing rats with wings”
“That’s my side gig”
He put his hand over your mouth giving you the tattoo grin before he mover it up to stroke your cheek.
“Princess you are the only pure thing in my life left anymore. I don’t want the filth of this city getting anywhere near you.” His icy blue eyes connected to yours. You felt tears begin to form. It was always nice, the sweetness coming from a man like him. “Oh none of that. Prettyprettypretty please smile for daddy.”
You lifted your chin from his grasp and showed him your teeth. “I do appreciate you getting rid of that creep for me daddy.”
“Get rid? Oh I’m just getting started.” He kicked the door open and there was Mike tied down in a chair. Your father pranced in growling at the boy. You followed slowly behind. You almost felt sorry for him…. almost. The clown prince stared as he circled him like a lion to his prey.

“Now… you think it’s okay for a peasant to touch a princess?” He said as he reached into his pocket.
“Sir liste-” before Mike could finish Joker slashed his face with his razor. The tiny gold jester was now caked in blood.
“Now ya got a smile kid! No more crying eh?” He cackled as he slashed again and again. Mike howled as blood spewed. You moved to Frost as he signaled over to you, ready to take you to the car. Your dad never let you see him finishing the job. As you waited you twirled your fingers around the tassels on the dress.
“Frosty if hes gonna kill him he could at least let me watch!” You complained “You don’t need to be seeing any of that shit kiddo.”
You sighed at his typical response just as your dad opened the car door. He slid in and motioned to Frost to drive. You glared out the window, now that Mike was taken care of you went back to being annoyed at your strict life.
“Oh don’t tell me you’re still mad” your dad mocked you cleaning his blade. “I hate when you aren’t adoring me.”
You rolled your eyes “You’re going to have to let me live my life sometime, go out, date.”
“Well as far as living goes, your breathing currently so you are. And we’re still not home because Frost cant drive so you are out” He gave you a cheerfully condescending look “and for dating, if anyone touches you again what will happen to him will even make your mother sick and that’s saying somethin Princess.” He pulled you into his embrace and laughed to himself. “But you got 2 outta 3.”
You couldn’t help but lay your head on his chest. It wasn’t that bad being a Princess.

Three years ago at my graduation ceremony. The best day of my life because I finally got my diploma and because my Maa turned up in her Saree. She was deciding what to wear and when I told her to wear something elegant and impressive, she asked doubtfully, “Hmm.. Saree? Will that be okay? No one will laugh or think I’m old fashioned right?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or to get upset with her, but I hugged her all the same and told her yes please, deck yourself out in an elegant evening Saree and come traditional.

Even though I come from a multiracial nation, it’s not common to see brown women stepping out to functions in their traditional attire. Why not? It’s beautiful and elegant, and very classy. Why do we have to worry about the views of others when we were blessed with such gorgeous and colourful traditional dresses? Do they have to be confined only to weddings and rituals? I don’t think so. We should be proud to show off our beautiful culture and heritage, and also because, if we don’t, who else will? I was beyond proud when all eyes were on my Maa that night. I was even prouder when she told me that I was right in saying that we should be proud to work our traditional attire. I really don’t care if other people look at me weird because I seem too “old fashioned”. I’m proud of my culture and my roots and yes, we are both featuring our Bindis.

reclaimthebindi browngirlsgang