The once-ker. Whether that's for Kermit or Joker is up to you

Green

Kermit x Joker

Kermit hadn't meant to fall in love.

It had started with the color green, as it always seemed to with him. Fozzy had been watching the show from backstage and pulled Kermit aside with an annoyed look on his face.

"Just so you know, there's a guy in the front row with this real annoying laugh-- Can't miss him, either, he's got bright green hair and some SUPER weird makeup. Break a leg, buddy," he had whispered harshly, "And do your best to ignore the freak."

Great, thought the frog, as if my day couldn't get any worse. He was annoyed at Fozzie, too, for being the bearer of bad news for the second time today, even though it wasn't really his fault that there was so much bad news to bear in the first place.

The first bad news was that their next act had canceled. Which was fine, it was fucking great. No big deal, Kermit would just go out and improvise, like he always had too. It's not like anyone else would step up and save the goddamn show. It was always him.

And now there was some green-haired clown annoying the rest of the audience. Kermit really wasn't in the mood to he heckled.

He stepped out onstage and tried to clear his throat. Tried, rather than did, because at that exact moment his painted, ping pong ball eyes locked onto two acidic, electric green orbs in the front row.

Green hair. Green eyes. Wild makeup, insane smile, and bright, colorful clothing that all but screamed "danger" to the frog. In the animal kingdom, bright colors meant trouble. They meant poison. But to the frog with the frog in his throat and poisonous monarch butterflies shuddering in his felt-lined stomach, those eyes meant something different entirely. Something Kermit didn't quite have time to name as time started up again and he had to address his expectant audience.

"Uh... uh, ladies and gentlemen," he stammered, "I don't know how to tell you this, but uh, frankly, the next act can't make it." He gulped. "Anyhow, I don't have anything to replace it--"

Kermit was cut off by the curtains opening behind him, revealing a blank set. A spotlight found him and thr lights dimmed.

"Oh, boy." He mentally cursed the stage crew for setting him up like this. At this point, it would be more awkward to announce an intermission like he'd planned than just perform something.

"You may have noticed that we're not terribly well organized around here, and..."

Hundreds of blank, dead eyes in the audience, pinning him like one of his kin to a dissection table in a high school classroom. "And, tonight I'm just barely making it, I don't know..." Kermit was a performer. He didn't get stage fright like this. God, he hated having to improvise.

"...sometimes it's very difficult."

He felt them. One hundred soulless eyes boring into a frog damn near his breaking point. He glanced into the front row, desperately wondering what the fuck he was going to sing, or dance, or what stupid jokes he could tell to get him off of this stage the fastest.

Green. Looking right back at him. Paying rapt attention, looking for more than just hollow entertainment. He cocked his head, curious but not mocking, despite his stretched-too-far grin.

The others in the front row had scooted as far away from this man as possible, like his freakishness might infect them if they got too close. His obnoxious laugh, his intensity, so clearly off-putting to those around him but clearly not giving a damn, with his hair proudly dyed a vibrant green that almost made Kermit feel proud of his own dull, dingy color.

Kermit knew what he would sing. He cleared his throat and tried his best to clear his mind as he croaked out the first warbling notes...