#arthur fleck x egg

[daincrediblegg]

Hello! Are you still taking x reader headcanon requests? Love your writing btw :)

Hi Nonnie!

Yes! Though I haven't done a whole lot of writing in a few months I think I'm feeling like I'm in a good place to take headcanon requests again! At the moment, I'll happily take requests for:

Father Paul (Midnight Mass) Morpheus (The Sandman) Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars/ Kenobi Series) Arthur Fleck (Joker) Dan Torrance (Doctor Sleep) Max Brinly (The Quarry)

And for some of these (namely Father Paul and Arthur Fleck) I do have a few old requests that I might try to dig through my ask box to get to. So stay tuned!

[jokeringcutio]

Okay first off you deserve so many more reblogs/likes, your writing is incredible! About the black phone/joker crossover prompts, would you write about reader being a teacher at the school where the kids are going missing and she accidentally helps a kid escape but is face to face with Albert, and they kinda have a moment but she’s actually on her way on a date with Arthur? Or something like that 😅

YES, That IS going to happen.

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Rating: Teen? Fandoms: The Black Phone / Joker 2019 Crossover Pairings: Reader x Arthur Fleck (Established), Reader x Albert Shaw (attraction) Warnings: Older man/younger woman, Established relationship and crushing on another guy, talk about lust/desire. Summary: You’re on your way to a date when you meet him.

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“Josh! Your mother is waiting for you.”

The boy stood in front of a man dressed in black. The boy’s head was directed at the ground, looking at something down there, and you were by his side within an instant.

“What are you doing, Josh? You need to go home. Your mother’s waiting,” you repeated yourself while you hurried over to them.

The boy with blonde curly hair looked up at you with big watery blue eyes.

“Sorry, Miss,” he said, calling you by your surname. “I was just helping…” And wasn’t he a sweetheart with his angelic face and his good manners? He was one of the favorite kids you had in your class. Being a teacher was a joy when there were good kids like him around.

You flashed him a small smile and was about to tell him that it was fine, when the stranger suddenly spoke up, his voice smooth and low. “Oh, it’s my fault, I fear.”

You instantly looked over at him. Black gleaming shoes, a dark suit, and shaded glasses that hid his face. Groceries lay scattered on the pavement in front of him. Splattered eggs and a pile of flower that had been ripped from its packaging and was now softly blown away like it was dust.

“Josh here was helping me,” the man continued in the same pleasantly low vein. “I’m afraid I’ve been ever so clumsy.”

You looked at the fallen groceries once more and understood why Josh had wanted to help him. This was an unfortunate accident indeed. Then you looked back up at the man and studied him.

He was slender, average height. His shoulder-length chestnut hair had whisps of grey in it, but that could also be smears of the makeup, you thought, as the man’s face appeared to be painted white. Big sunglasses obscured his eyes, and he surprised you by raising his hand and elegantly taking them off in one swift motion.

He nearly bowed as he did so. The top hat he was wearing seemed to topple over, but by a miracle of balance remained on the top of his head as he straightened his back again.

Your eyes locked and time stopped.

Bright blue eyes met yours and you felt it, instantly. A strong feeling that struck you to your core, had you rooted on the spot. He must have felt it as well, for you recognized how he stood frozen in the same way. How his lips parted slightly at the sight of you. How the look within his eyes changed until his pupils dilated and there was a spark there of something dark and dangerous. Something like longing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss-“ here he said your surname, probably having remembered how Josh had addressed you only moments before. He then gestured for Josh to move along, much as you had implored he would.

The man’s fingers touched Josh’s back lightly in passing as if he wanted to help the boy move along. You noticed the gesture, but it was a fleeting one. Josh stopped in his tracks and turned around to smile at you and wish you a good day. You watched him go before your eyes focused on the handsome man in front of you again.

Your name spilled from your lips unbiddenly. “That’s my name,” you said, as if he needed telling.

The man repeated it as if he were tasting each and every vowel and consonant. Then he looked up at you with a smile. No longer lost in thought.

“Hi, I’m Albert,” he said and thrust his hand forward as an offer for you to shake it. You did so, though hesitatingly. The spark in Albert’s eyes had you distracted and made your knees go weak.

“Not the best way for an introduction, eh?” Albert said once you let go of his hand, and he laughed nervously. He brought a hand up in his hair, awkwardly, the top hat tipping to the side. You could only imagine how he must be feeling.

“No, not at all,” you said, already getting down to your knees. “Let me help you pick this all up.”

Albert surprised you by kneeling down as well. His hands reached for the scattered groceries in an attempt to help you. “Thank you but I can’t have you do this all on your own,” he said, voice sounding jocular. “After all, it was this old man who made the mess, eh?”

Old man, you thought, giving him a quick once over. He didn’t look that old. In fact, he looked pretty decent for a man. Just the right ripe age. You quickly had to hide your blush, looking away. But your eyes darted back to him on their own accord not long after.

You recognized that he was trying to lift the tension and saw how the corner of his smile trembled slightly. Was he nervous?

“Not that old,” you honestly said, as you reached for another fallen product. “Besides, the older the wine, the finer, right?”

A soft chuckle escaped him, as if your comment caught him by surprise. He had not expected it.

You suppressed a smile and reached for another item when Albert’s fingers accidentally brushed past yours. A sharp tingle of energy warmed the place your hands touched, skin to skin. Your heart rate picked up and your lips parted.

You looked up to find his blue eyes waiting to meet yours.

The tension was familiar to you, as was the tingle deep in your tummy and the awakening of lust. You fancied him, there was no denying it. And by the look of raw hunger in his eyes, you could tell he felt the same.

Lips suddenly dry, you rose to wobbly knees, your head spinning with emotions. “I’m sorry,” you said, words a whisper. “I need to go.”

His smile faltered and the light in his eyes seemed to die down when he heard your words. Albert got up, a torn bag carefully clutched against his chest. The groceries that the two of you had managed to save were semi-safe folded into the tattered bag. “I understand,” Albert said, his voice more nasal now. It reminded you so much of him. It was the some tone of judgment, the same pitiful tone that Arthur would use whenever he put himself into the role of a victim. Whenever you had hurt his feelings.

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Albert,” the words were hard to leave your lips, even though you meant them. It was just that he was reminding you of Arthur so much right now. Even their names started with an A.

Averting your eyes, you shook your head and took a step away from Albert. They were so similar in looks and sound. You could easily confuse them, imagine them both inside your bed. But you knew you shouldn’t. You were only allowed to love one man in this society.

Plus, Arthur would never forgive you if he found out you fancied another. If you so much as looked at another man he would turn livid. And so you dreaded to think of what he would do if he found out you had actually met a man you found attractive. More than innocent looks. Not that you should worry about any of it. You seemed to have disappointed the man in front of you with your move.

But Albert surprised you.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said, voice determined. And when you looked up you saw his jaw clenched. His fingers dug into the bag he carried with force, the knuckles turning white. He was being serious.

“That is, if you’ll let me,” he continued, sounding a little less certain now. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

And there it was. Such a bold request, it made your heart skip a beat. With your hand fluttering to your heart you turned back to him, eyes locking with his bright and hopeful ones.

“Oh,” you said, sounding surprised. “Oh,” again. You saw the hope glimmer in Albert’s eyes, saw how his muscles tensed for the inevitable rejection. “I’d love to,” but I am already spoken for, you should have said.

Instead, your voice died in your throat and the words never left your lips. Albert’s blue eyes shimmered with gratitude, a look of victory and something dark passing over them. “Good,” he said, sounding relieved and determined at the same time. “Good. Let me give you my number.”

He placed the tattered bag with groceries in the back of the black van and then pulled out a piece of paper. Leaning over the car, he scribbled a number on it before he handed the paper to you. It crumpled in your hand as he wrapped his around yours, giving it to you like a secret to keep safe.

The small smile Albert flashed you made you feel warm inside again. It was a sin that a man like him was alive. And then, after a slight squeeze, his hand was gone. You stared at the wad of paper in your hand for a moment. What were you going to do with it? If Arthur saw it…?

“Call me,” Albert asked, leaning forward to whisper the words close to your ear, an intimate gesture, ready to lean in even further and steal a kiss.

But he didn’t do that. Instead, he leaned away again, giving you your space. A gentleman, after all, you mused. You quickly hid the crumpled paper in one of your pockets and flashed him a comforting smile.

“I’ll see you around, Albert,” you promised.

“See you around, little miss teacher.”

You liked the nickname he gave you, smiling brightly upon hearing it.

Even when walking past him and away, you could still feel his gaze upon you, eyes boring into your back. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder to confirm he was watching you go. A small smile appeared on his lips when he saw you looking and you returned it.

And then you were round the corner and gone.

You tried desperately to get Albert off your mind after that because you knew you needed to focus on your date.

Arthur was waiting two streets away, hands in his pockets and a puppy smile on his face when he saw you arrive.

“There you are,” he said when you came within his reach. With a bright smile, he circled his arm around your waist, leading you away while whispering sweet words about how he’d missed you in your ear.

You let him guide you away, hand on your pocket to conceal the forbidden number of a man you should try to forget.

While Arthur led you to a small and cheap coffee shop, elegantly opening the door for you, a black van slowly passed by, slowing down even more when it came up behind you. You hardly noticed it, too busy as you were being focused on your date. Arthur was making you laugh, doing one of his silly clown moves. Even in his ordinary clothes, you could see the clown in him.

And even if you had looked over your shoulder to see the black van parked in the middle of the street, you still wouldn’t have been able to discern the grim expression hidden by a layer of white makeup and black sunglasses, or the way the man’s hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned as white as the makeup on his cheeks.

You were oblivious to what you had started.

The beast of desire was unleashed. And one day, you would feel the brunt.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Somewhere alone in my bitterness // Arthur x Reader // comfort.

Summary: With everything building up within you and making you ready to explode in a fiery wave of emotions you loathe to experience, there is one thing you need, just one, which will make you remember all of the reasons why you don’t give in. The one thing which keeps you calm, keeps you full of love, keeps you soft and yet simultaneously does it fill you with strength. Your Arthur Fleck.

This is a piece inspired by a conversation I’ve been having with @daincrediblegg​, alluding to the duality of human emotions. Here’s to you, you brilliant Egg!🥰🥰🥰 I hope you like this, darling.

Word count: 1, 119.

“Arthur?”

Arthur makes a small noise to let you know that he’s listening to you, though he doesn’t look away from the small, old television which Penny won in a radio competition several long, cruel years ago. His face is illuminated with the harsh blue light given off by the large pixels on the screen and those sea green eyes, which hold all the sadness of the world within them, reflect the old war film he is watching. Interested is he by how the gentlemen in the film interact with the ladies and members of the upper classes and you know that he is simply itching to take notes in his government issued brown journal. Why he does not, you know not.

In any case, it works out well for you. You leave the kitchen, two cups of coffee in your hands, and you walk through the small, cramped space, concentrating only on not spilling your drinks until you reach the coffee table. Upon putting them down do you turn so that you can face Arthur. Oh, but you’re so irritated, not with him but with yourself. There were things which had happened and indeed, are still happening in your life and you had little to no control over the situations at hand or even your own emotions; so hurt had you been in the past and so scared are you currently for more bad blood, and the rising anger over all of this only bred more of the same. Sometimes your own capacity to feel anger and other such emotions scares you. You are a gentle and kind soul, one of the purest Arthur has ever known, and this is not the kind of person you want to be.

Despite your anger and your fear, your anxiety and your sadness, you are still so completely yourself and that is a strength which few people, most especially those who reside within Gotham, possess. All of your reasons why, all of the things you cling to, all of your love and all of your passion, desire, all of your pure emotions, heavy though they are in their intensity, are because of the man who is sat before you, his green eyes shifting now from the television screen to you, his one and only person.

“What is it, Y/N? Talk to me.”

You move so that your knees are touching Arthur’s and he leans forward, his arms coming up to encircle your waist as he nuzzles his face into your belly. Love blooms hotly in your heart and spreads strongly through your veins and you bend down, down, to nuzzle your nose into his dark curls, your nose taking him all in. He smells like home and you make a small noise of contentment, feeling Arthur purse his lips to feather a kiss to your t-shirt; any excuse to love on you will he rightly take, for you deserve nothing less. You feel your resentment and other negative emotions alleviate some of their crushing pressure on your chest and what feels like the first time all day do you take a deep breath and feel yourself relaxing.

This is what you have been wanting.

“I’m okay, Artie, I’m just... feeling like I’m stuck in a cage of my own making with all of these bad emotions.” 

Arthur leans back at your words and his arms, still around your waist, tighten and he pulls you forward and down. You come to sit with your thighs either side of his slender waist, your knees locked around him, your arms around his shoulders. You lean forward and rest your face into the crook of Arthur’s neck, your reverent lips leaving worship upon your temple, your daily religion is he. Arthur hums and presses kisses to your clothed shoulder, one of his hands moving to hook into the collar so that he can move the material aside and reach you with greater ease. For every affectionate gesture do you afford him does he grant you one of his own; equal in every way are you.

“I know what that’s like, Y/N. To want to werewolf and go wild,” Arthur giggles at his own articulation and you smile, not knowing that you would be hearing those words again soon, spoken in a more ominous, foreboding tone, and Arthur’s lips linger against your bare flesh, his blood already beginning to travel south as he wonders how else he can help you to vent your frustrations. “But you’re so strong, angel, to feel the way that you do and to still be so full of love. You’re better than those things making you feel angry, and it hurts, it does...” Arthur shrugs with one shoulder. You can’t see but he has a self-deprecating smile on his face. You would kiss it away if you saw it. “But you have me, something those people don’t have. You’re special. Y/N. You’re my one and only.”

“Thank you, darling,” You rise your face up from his neck, somewhat reluctantly for never can you have enough of your clown, nor he of you, and you claim his thin lips with your own. His flesh is cool but quickly does it match your temperature and Arthur pulls you tighter against him. His kiss is slow and the intensity within is matched only by the fire which burns within you. Your heart is the key for the cage which has so imprisoned your soul, and it resides firmly in Arthur’s hands. He had set you free long ago but you had yet to turn around to see things for yourself, and so with a gentle touch, a loving embrace and encouraging words as his weapon does Arthur this day once more save you from yourself, turning you around and showing you that, with him by your side and with you by his, you were the wealthiest couple in all of Gotham.

Thomas Wayne could eat his heart out.

You are still angry and you still hold resentment and sadness and you are not wholly free from the injustices you have suffered just yet, but you have your Arthur and he has you and you know that you are in the best hands. Arthur will never think of you any less, be any less proud of you or love you any less, and he understands what it’s like, more than anyone ever should. Remain do you in his embrace as you set foot from one cage and settle into another, but this is the safest one and you don’t ever want to leave it, for better or for worse, for you are not imprisoned in this one.

No, dearheart, in this one are you free.

AF/J @impulsiveclown   @astheworlddturns @fluffedstar @jokersqueenofchaos @germansarechill @tsukiakarinobara  @lynnesm @sagyunaro  @docsportello  @flowerglitterwoman @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokers-doll @jokerslilhyena @arthurjokersgirl @antonija89 @lilliryth @hotpacino @obsessedandthirsty  @call-me-harley-quinn  @anais-angel

[multiedits]

Don't swear at us if you don't like the result, it's not always easy, we can do something different for you if you want

Your limit of requests during the period before they are closed is three, but please put it all in one question

We make:

🌈 Moodboards / Aesthetics (You can also choose: Colored or Transparent background)

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✅ We make things with characters. We can also make a not characters things, for example, just some things by color or category. You can also suggest a style and color for things (for example: can I ask to make a moodboard (character) in orange, pink and black colors; can you make the character's aesthetic sad/fun?). We also do something based on your headcannons

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(Feel free to tell us about something problematic)

Characters:

Suguru Kamoshida (Persona)

Haiji Towa; Monaca Towa (Danganronpa)

Marty Armstrong (Lisa RPG)

Professor Pyg; Victor Zsasz; Arthur Fleck (DC)

Hisoka Morow; Illumi Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Jack (Underworld Office)

Jared (Doll Eye)

Belle; Beast; Gaston (Beauty and The Beast)

Nanami Kiryuu (Revolutionary Girl Utena)

William Afton; Michael Afton; Nightmare Freddy; Nightmare Chica; Nightmare Foxy; Nightmare Bonnie; Nightmare Fredbear; Plushtrap; Nightmare; Nightmare Balloon Boy; Nightmare Mangle (Five Night's at Freddy's)

Kakashi Hatake; Jiraya (Naruto)

All "Wonder Killers"; Shuichiro Sawaki; Frill; Dot; Hyphen; Kirara (Wonder Egg Priority)

Black Hanekawa (Monogatari)

Moonfish (Boku no Hero Academia)

Alessi; Funny Valentine; Sports Maxx (JoJo's Bizzare)

Kevin Thompson (Daria)

Prince Phillip; Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

Ariel; King Triton; Prince Eric (The Little Mermaid)

Prince Florian (Snow White and the Seven Dwarves)

Tate Langdon (American Horror Story)

Archie Andrews (Riverdale)

Marty McFly (Back to the Future)

Margaret Robinson; Hobo; Jealousy; Kenneth; Lucy Simian; Mr. Yoshida; Alison Sandra Gator (The Amazing World of Gumball)

Mr. Labrador (Peppa Pig)

Felix Kranken (The Walten Files)

Lynera Skalbi (Hiveswap)

Daki (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Selever; Garcello; Sky; Tabi (Non-canon! Friday Night Funkin)

Real People's / YouTuber's etc. (Characters from Movies/Series it's okay)

Sources:

Simpsons

Creepypasta

American Dad

Killing Stalking

South Park

The Office

Vivziepop Media's

Bojack Horseman

Porkchop and Flatscreen

Family Guy

Country Humans / Country Balls

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Attack on Titan

Wizard of Oz (1939 film, all others WOZ sources is ok!)

Something that contains Minecraft materials (like Aphmau, Dream SMP, Minecraft Story Mode, etc., Only canon Minecraft game and Minecraft Earth)

Saya no Uta

Films about Real Wars

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GTA

Future Dairy

Hetalia

"Yaoi/Yuri" mangas

Obey Me

Happy Tree Friends

Yarichin Club

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Boyfriend to Death

The Magnus Archives

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Senran Kagura

Magical Angel Creamy Mami

Persia the Magic Fairy

Elfen Lied

LapFox Trax

Crush Crush

Alien 9

Eddsworld

The Midnight Gospel

Love Letter

The Arcana

Nekopara

Citrus

Yandere Simulator

Crimson Gray

Ships:

(All here okay if it's platonic or other)

King Dedede x Anyone (Kirby)

Poison Ivy x Males; Harley Quinn x Joker or Batman; Streaky x Anyone; Someone from Red Lanterns corps x Anyone; B'Dg x Anyone (DC)

Junko Enoshima x Anyone; Tenko Chabashira x Males; Byakuya Togami x Toko Fukawa; Hifumi Yamada x Anyone; Teruteru Hanamura x Anyone; Ultimate Imposter x Anyone; Someone from "Warrior's of Hope" x Anyone; Toko Fukawa x Komaru Naegi; Hiyoko Saionji x Anyone (Danganronpa)

Jasper x Lapis Lazuli; Steven Universe x Spinel; Emerald x Someone from "Off Colors" team; Yellow Diamond x someone who's not Blue Diamond; Blue Diamond x someone who's not Yellow Diamond; Fluorite x Anyone; Fusions x Fusions with same characters (Steven Universe)

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Tails the Fox x Rouge the Bat or Wave the Swallow; Dr. Eggman x Anyone; Scourge the Hedgehog x Anyone; Metal Sonic x Anyone who's not Robot (Sonic the Hedgehog)

SpongeBob x Anyone Who's not Patrick (SpongeBob SquarePants)

Lemon Demon x Anyone; Ships with Skid and Pump; The Mom x Anyone who's not The Dad; The Dad x Anyone who's not The Mom; Boyfriend x Anyone who's not Pico or Girlfriend (Friday Night Funkin)

Bakugo Katsuki x Izuku Midoriya, Ochako, Camie; Eijirou Kirishima x Females (Boku no Hero Academia)

Boss x River or Eugene (Underworld Office)

Yoshi x Anyone; Bowser x Anyone; Donkey Kong x Anyone (Super Mario)

Bill Cipher x Anyone; Dipper x Wendy; Mabel x Pacifica or Wendy; Stan x Anyone; Ford x Anyone (Gravity Falls)

Zim x Dib or Tak or GiR; GiR x Anyone; Dib x Zim or Tak; Tak x Zim; MiMi x Anyone; 2k x Palindrome; Zib x Anyone (Invader Zim)

Inosuke x Zenitsu; Zenitsu x Nezuko (Kimetsu no Yaiba)

Gregg x Anyone who's not Angus; Angus x Anyone who's not Gregg (Night in the Woods)

Kaoru Kurita x Anyone who's not Momoe Sawaki (Wonder Egg Priority)

Kristoph Gavin x Anyone; Alita Tiala x Anyone; Miles Edgeworth x Females (Ace Attorney)

Oscar x Lola (Shark Tale)

White Choco Cookie x Males (Cookie Run)

Jamie Russo x Anyone (The Amazing World of Gumball)

Alberto x Giulia (Luca)

Any ships from FNaF

Any ships from Bunnicula

Canon Lesbians x Males; Canon Gays x Females

Ships with Childs

Crossover Ships

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Aesthetics:

Stonercore (And all others with Dr*gs, Alco, Cig**ettes, but if Character have Cig**ettes on all images it's okay and we will tag it like: "tw: cig**ettes")

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Flags of Real Countries, Islands, States etc.

Real Spiders and Scorpions

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Sexualities who's never will be valid (like TikToksexual; Petsexual; G*resexual; etc.)

Old/Pink Lesbian Flag; Sunset Lesbian Flag with 7 Stripes

DD/LG; Fetishism; 18+; S*x; etc.

Misgendering Characters

Erasing canon Characters Orientations

List of Shapes for Icons:

Circle

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Star

Octagon

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Racist/Believe what "blackwashing" and "reverse racism" is reality

LGBTQ+ phobic

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[darling-i-read-it]

DC Movies Masterlist

Laugh (any Joker x fem!reader x any Batman)

Muffled Laughter (any Joker x fem!reader x any Batman) (Laugh Part 2)

Her Laugh (any Joker x fem!reader x any Batman) (Laugh Final Part)

JOKER PLAYLIST

Arthur Fleck

ARTHUR FLECK PLAYLIST

Bus Ride

Ruin It

No Way

Move In

Late

Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne

Best Friends

Shooting Star*

First Names

Waiting Up

Valentine’s

Mexican Food

Kidnapping

Art Show

A-Z NSFW

Sleeping

Gala

Spending the holidays with Bruce

‘I love you’ ‘I know’

Affection

Robert Pattinson! Bruce Wayne

BRUCE WAYNE PLAYLIST

Pinky Promise

Eyes

Interview

Batmobile*

Bruises

Stay Home

Niece

Hold

Neck Kisses

Bruce with an affectionate reader

Drunk Bruce

Reader who’s not afraid to stand up for herself

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Harley Quinn

Eggs and Toast

Poly relationship with her and Rick Flag

Jonathan Crane

Stitches

Rick Flag

RICK FLAG PLAYLIST

Night Out

Waller

Warm Showers

Already Married

Colonel Flag*

My Girl

Don’t Bother*

Out of Prison

Poly relationship with him and Harley

Kissing hcs

NSFW hcs*

Adrian Chase

One Week

Hash Browns

Good Husbands

Mornings (with Matt Murdock)

Asking for a kiss on his lap

Dating him and Matt Murdock

NSFW hcs with him and Matt Murdock

[nephilimsarchive]

A little help | Arthur Fleck x reader imagine

Summary: Gotham seems a little less grey as someone finally cares for him. Or: A stranger helps Arthur after he gets beaten up. He loses his sign but gains what he hopes could blossom into more than friendship.

Note: basically just someone finally being nice to Arthur, a little fluff

Warnings: none??? Some swearing, unspecified age gap, crappy ending

Word count: 2301

Hearing the door shut behind you you made your way down Gothams main street, relieved that your shift was over. You worked at a local restaurant, and while serving meals wasn’t quite your passion, the occasional tips you got im your tight fitting shirt made for a rather alright pay. Nonetheless, you surely weren’t anywhere near wealthy, not that you cared much. The only thing that bothered you was that you rarely had the time - and sometimes the money - to paint anymore. With your job and small apartment, which’s properties really didn’t deserve the rent you had to pay for it, your childhood dream of earning money with art remained what it was - a dream.

Yet you couldn’t quite stop yourself from hoping sometimes, and so you found yourself wandering the busy streets. Looking for anything to inspire you, taking longer than necessary to get home. You longed to see greenery between the skyscrapers and taxis, individuality between the anonymous faces passing you by, kindness between the insensivity of this gloomy town. And that’s when something on the other side of the road caught your eye. The vibrant colours of his costume in contrast with the grey concrete surrounding him. Cheerful music was playing. Most people didn’t even glance at him as he they were passing him by. Hell, you found most clowns rather frightening. But there was something about him, his grin or his dancing, the way he swung the sign that made you stare. Maybe you just couldn’t phantom how somebody, no, anybody could seem so …happy, doing what he does. Then again it was his job, and people here have no choice than to work hard to get by.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted as the subject of your focus scrambled to his feet after a hoard of teenage boys had stolen his sign. Picking up a faster pace you kept an eye on the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes, the boys suddenly crossing the street, not even paying attention to the cars that honked. My god, getting past the mass of people in front of you was bad enough as it was, you couldn’t even imagine running in full costume. Poor guy. You stopped in your tracks and gasped as one of the cars almost hit him, but he ran on as if nothing happened. And just like that, he suddenly was out of your vision. You started running, excusing yourself as you pushed past people, yet he was nowhere to be seen. Slowing your pace you tried to catch your breath, when muffled sounds caught your attention. You turned the next corner, your mouth agape in shock. Five boys were kicking the man that already lay on the ground, his sign in pieces next to him. Not being able to stop your instincts from kicking in you screamed „Hey!“, they turned towards you, „Get off him you fucking bastards!“ you growled, at which the guys merely chuckled, but ran away anyway. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Your mind raced as you sprinted towards the man and tried to assess the situation. He was on his side, ragged breaths jolting through him, shuddering. You crouched down next to him, but he barely noticed you at first, his hand trying to reach for the bits and pieces of the sign he had been holding. „That should be the least of your worries.“, you then said, giving him a sympathetic smile. „Can you stand?“, you asked, but all the answer you got was a quizzical look. It was as if he’s aware that there’s nobody else you could possibly be talking to, but still he didn’t believe you meant him. Then again you weren’t even sure he fully heard or understood you. Gently, as to not make more damage you took one of his hands into yours. „You can’t stay like this, we’ve got to get your injuries checked. I’m going to try and help you up now, okay?“ His eyebrows scrunched together as he stared at your intertwining hands. He weakly nodded. Slowly he sat up, then got to his feet, clutching his ribs as you tried to support his walking as much as you could. You would’ve headed to the hospital immediately, but in this state he could barely stand upright, and you didn’t own a car. So you just walked to your apartment, which was only a few blocks away.

Usually you wouldn’t take a stranger to your flat, but he seemed so helpless and lonely - it felt right to keep an eye on him, at least for a bit. You tried to make conversation on the way, asking him about his name, but he never answered. His head swayed while walking, and you didn’t know if he listened, but you continued talking to him anyway. If you were in his shoes you would’ve liked someone to distract you from the pain. And that is precisely how he felt. Little did you know that of course Arthur listened to your every word. His eyes flickered to how you held him, then to your face every now and then. From the moment you crouched down next to him he could’ve sworn that you’re an actual angel. Your voice became his mantra as you told him you’re sorry for what happened to him, that he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t answer because he simply didn’t know what to say. After all this time, how could it be that someone as kind, selfless and absolutely beautiful offered him help?

As you reached your flat and finally made it to your bed you sat him down. He looked around in confusion as you returned with your first aid kit, some cloths and frozen vegetables he could use to cool his side. Making a mental note to buy some new vegetables later you sat next to him. Carefully you rinsed the blood off his swollen lower lip, washing off the remains of his makeup, him being silent all along. He couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered over you, your (e/c) eyes, long wavy hair reaching just beneath your shoulders and then your lips. And how they were parted ever so slightly as you concentrated. Truly, he felt terrible for what he was thinking. He knew you were just being nice, but your proximity and the way your gentle hands touched his face didn’t help his case as he shifted his gaze just a little lower, getting a good look at your slender neck and even your cleavage. Your skin looked so soft. Fucking hell, you were simply breathtaking. His eyes fluttered close as he shifted a little. He was fully aware he barely knew you, you probably had a boyfriend, and you definitely definitely were what they call out of his league. You must’ve been at least five years younger than him, too. He felt rumbles of laughter bubbling in his throat He felt rumbles of laughter bubbling in his throat after you got up, fetching a glass of water and a pain med. you returned, and that’s when the laughter broke out, the irony of the situation painful. Now you must think he’s a total nutcase. Instead, you just sat next to him again, an amused but quizzical look on you face. He struggled to hand you a card that explained his condition, and you patiently waited for him to calm down again. His laughter broke out then. Great, now you must think he’s totally insane. Instead, you just sat down next to him again, an amused and quizzical expression on your face. He struggled to hand you the card that explained his condition. You were patiently waiting for him to calm down. „Well, I think your laugh’s lovely. Well, I think your laugh is quite lovely.”, you told him, trying to cheer him up, “Drink something.”, handing him the glass heis cheeks burned as did as you said, not so successfully hiding his burning cheeks as he sighed lightly when the cold glass touched the wound on his lip. Looking him over, you frowned slightly. Shuffling through your drawer you got out an oversized shirt and jogging pants. “If you’d like to change, the bathroom is right next door.” You placed the clothes next to him and turned to leave as a hoarse voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y.. Y/N..?” Ah! So he had listened. “Why are you helping me?”, he asked in a quiet tone, “You don’t even know my name.” Turning around you took a few steps closer to him again. “Then tell me.”, you returned, smiling. He looked as his feet then “Arthur, …my name is Arthur.” “Well then, Arthur, I’m helping you because because I want to. Nobody deserves what happened to you today. Nobody deserves what they did to you. Now, make yourself at home. Try to get some rest.”, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. He wouldn’t even have had a second thought about it, they were just kids. But you seriously meant what you said. As the rest of your words sank in he tried to protest, saying he couldn’t possibly sleep in your bed. Shaking your head lightly, you chose to make your way to the door. “If there’s anything else you need, feel free to ask.”

~~~

The next morning you were woken up by a noise you couldn’t recognise. It hadn’t taken you much time to fall asleep on your sofa the day before. It actually was a lot more comfortable than you had thought, or perhaps it was the exhaustion of you work shift followed by half-carrying Arthur here. Thinking of which, you turned to face the rest of the living room and got up. To your surprise, you saw movement through the glass of your kitchen door. The smell of scrambled eggs filled your nose as you entered, at once figuring out that the noises you heard must’ve been Arthur putting out dishes onto the small table. He had done his best trying to be quite, sneaking out of you bedroom past your sleeping form he had noted you looked wonderfully peaceful when asleep, then to the kitchen. Now there were toasts, some cut up apples and slightly burned scrambled eggs layed out on the kitchen table. It wasn’t a buffet per se, but more than enough to have your facial expression turn to one of surprise, happiness and then disbelief. As you shook your head lightly, brushing a hand through your disheveled hair Arthur suddenly seemed nervous „Oh, I‘m.. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to rummage through your belongings, I should’ve known that’s not what you do.“, you couldn’t help but look at him in shock then, how could he think your mad? He avoided your stare. „I‘ll clean everything up.“, he grabbed the handle of the pan as your hand over his stopped him. He looked up into your eyes, while his mirrored uncertainty and something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. „Arthur, my God.“, you breathed out, cradling his hand in both of yours, “The only reason I shook my head was that I cannot believe how you can stand here at 8 in the morning after the night you had, and all you worry about is making breakfast. You don’t have to apologise, and you certainly don’t have to clean up either. I can’t even remember the last time somebody went through such an effort for me. So thank you.“ You let go off his hand as he blushed profusely at your words. He stumbled over his words then, saying it’s the least he could do. Or that at least he tried, glancing at the pan in embarrassment.

The two of you ate in silence for a short while, Arthus studying your expression as you took bites. He paid attention to the rest of your apartment then, it was rather small but the way you had little pictures, plants and other adornments everywhere made it feel very cozy. It fit the impression you made, you seemed like such a positive and kindhearted person, always trying to make the best out of everything. You were sitting across him wearing a tank top, short pants and a robe over it and you looked absolutely adorable, Arthur thought. He could only wish this wasn’t the last time he got to spend time with you. You noticed the way he had been staring, hiding your reddened cheeks behind your hair. Your voice interrupted his train of thoughts “Are you going to get your injuries checked, Arthur?” Truth be told, he didn’t plan on going to any hospital. He hated burdening people with his issues, and he didn’t quite have the money to pay for any treatment -if needed- either. But you the way you looked at him made him question his attitude; your eyes were full of hope, begging him to go. As if you actually cared for his well-being. Apparently, his lack of response answered your question, as you continued: “You are aware that if you don’t get yourself checked, I’ll have to make you come back here weekly from now on to make sure you’re doing okay?” Your light tone made a weight fall if his shoulders as you let out a breathless laugh. For some reason you hoped that he’d actually accept your proposal, even though it came out more jokingly than anything. He seemed so pure and kind to you that you wondered what made him as insecure. Whatever it is, you wanted to show him that he doesn’t need to be. You wanted to be there for him, you realised. Arthur smiled at you then, a genuine smile for once “I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Nobody” Part 2

After not feeling well for months, The Joker finally found out why: the life threatening condition is so serious there’s only a 50/50 chance of survival.  Dealing with a brain tumor is not going to be easy, that’s why The King of Gotham asked his half-brother Arthur to help Y/N while he’ll undergo treatment.

Part 1

“Hey Pumpkin,” The Joker kisses you. “Are you awake?”

You smack your lips and stretch, opening your eyes since you have no other choice.

“I am now… Are you feeling sick? Need anything?” the nursing side takes over while he’s silent, too busy wrapping your right leg around his waist. “Mister Joker,” you immediately gasp. “No guns in bed!”

“It’s not my gun,” he smirks and you chuckle at the evident truth. “When’s the last time we had sex, huh? Two weeks ago?!”

“Mmmm…” you debate, caressing his face. “Something like that.”

“All the meds are messing me up,” J pouts. “Great news though: turns out I’m not dead yet,” he adds and you yank him in your arms before his speech ruins the mood.

“Maybe we should sleep outdoors more often; it seems to have a beneficial effect,” Y/N underlines the welcomed idea The Joker had last night about resting on the terrace.

“Or maybe it’s just from having my girl close,” he utters a nice sentence, instantly correcting himself. “This is clearly the tumor messing with my brain; makes me say weird stuff.”

“Perhaps we should keep it then,” you sigh as The King of Gotham pulls down on your PJ shorts. “I like to hear weird stuff like that.”

“Do ya’?!” he fakes his surprise because he tries to avoid the subject.

“U-hum.”

“Naaah, I vote for sex and dirty talk!” J hisses and slides on top of you, prompting laughter when he starts nibbling on your cleavage. “Let’s have some fun before my mojo’s gone!”

“Mojo!” you repeat since you can’t stop cracking up, the unexpected entertaining morning 100 percent welcomed after the stressful past months.

“Shut up and let’s sin,” The Joker gives in to your charms. “You can be laud: Arthur’s a heavy sleeper, not that he can hear us anyway.”

***********

His brother is actually downstairs; Arthur woke up at 7:15am, moped around for a bit, then decided to cook breakfast. That’s what he’s been doing for the past 20 minutes: it wasn’t difficult to locate the necessary ingredients and bestowing his talents upon the famished couple might help in the long run.

He figured Y/N and J will appreciate his culinary abilities succeeding napping on the inflatable mattress outside; fresh air is bound to make one hungrier than usual.

So here’s the result of his hard work: two plates filled with bacon, eggs, hash browns, waffles and freshly sliced oranges perfectly arranged in symmetrical patterns.

Arthur places the dishes on a tray, humming a little song while he pours hot tea in the cups; it smells delicious and he can’t wait to enjoy the praises: he needs extra credit after upsetting Y/N yesterday with the unnecessary fight she witnessed by accident.  

Mister Fleck lights up a cigarette, swiftly creeping out The Penthouse: he puffs the smoke like a chimney, mindful at the ashes flying in the breeze. A few extra steps and he’s almost in front of the canopy; Arthur prepares to announce his presence when moans reach his ear. He freezes and carefully listens, unsure on what to do.

“Oh my God, J!” you squeal as The Joker growls, purring up a storm.

“What are you doing to me, Kitten?”

Further panting and groaning suggests he should probably abandon his plan: Arthur holds in his breath, unwilling to interrupt the fun. The 42 year old begins to gracefully walk backwards, totally caught up in a tiny dance with the food tray.

“Sssttttt,” he admonishes his own action while sliding the glass door. “Let’s give the kids privacy,”Arthur mumbles and covers the plates to keep breakfast warm.

In about 20 minutes he notices J chasing you towards the entrance, your rosy cheeks turning red when you bump into the guest. 

“Good morning,” you smile and let The Joker catch you.

“Easy prey,” he gropes a bubbly Y/N although if his older brother is present.

“Morning,” the reply triggers your boyfriend’s out of context comment:

“You cooked?!”

“Yeah,” Arthur gestures at the covered plates. “It’s ready to go.”

“Let me take a fast shower and brush my teeth. Are you coming?” J slaps you butt instead of another encouragement and you steal a piece of bacon to munch on the way up to the master bathroom:

“Thank you Arthur!”

“No problem,” he blows a rebel curl off his forehead, intrigued to see his sibling in a good mood; it’s a well-known fact The Joker didn’t have an abundance of fine days lately. Today must be an exception.

He’s actually the first one to arrive and Arthur has to ask:

“Where’s my sister-in-law?”

“She’s not your sister-in-law!” the sour tone underlines.

“I had you guys married,” the man insists.

“We didn’t agree to that!” The Joker hisses. “I barely tolerate her!” Arthur calmly lights up his second cigarette for the day, sharing wisdom with the feisty green haired menace:

“I wouldn’t take her for granted if I were you; one day you might wake up and realize she’s not even here. I talk from my own experience when I tell you it happened to me too: my relationship with the woman I loved was just an illusion, nothing more. Trust me when I tell you you’ll never feel such a deep disappointment again…”

“Ahhhh, I’m starving!” you pop up in the kitchen, completely unaware of the discussion they’re having. “Coffeeeeee,” you gush at the freshly brewed pot, excited to sip on the miracle drink.

“It’s impossible for us to hallucinate in the same time,” Arthur whispers. “Wanna check to make sure?”

J nods a yes and you’re suddenly trapped at the counter: Arthur grabs your right hand, his brother your left, both squeezing your fingers.

“I think you’re OK,” Mister Fleck concludes and you’re confused:

“What’s going on?”

“Confirming you’re real,” he admits on their strange experiment.

“Of course I’m real,” Y/N frowns, yet she has a vague idea regarding the mysterious behavior.

“Perfect; take your coffee and let’s eat,” J avoids expanding on the topic; that’s the best he can muster without revealing the slight panic at the thought you might be a product of his imagination.

*************

“I have a meeting at Savage Club this evening. Could end up profitable, depending on the terms. Would you care to accompany me?” Arthur offers to get The Joker out of the house for the heck of it.

“Nah…” the latest mutters, quite uncomfortable after his afternoon pills.

“Come on, baby; let’s go out!!! It’s been forever!” you implore because the proposal sounds super enticing. “I miss having fun,” you blur out and continue when his bitterness is obvious: “Not that it’s not fun staying home. Pleeeeaasseee, can we? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me; I’m not a child!” The Joker raises his voice and you are frustrated since no matter what you articulate it gets twisted.

“Why do you have to be like this?...” the rhetorical question is a clear statement of how much you hate conflict over trivial issues of no importance whatsoever.

Your other half believes otherwise.

“Like what, hm? Like what?! Explain so everybody can get an intelligible and logical breakdown!!” J yells for no reason but you are so done with his outbursts.

“Never mind,” you sniffle and stroll out on the terrace in order to avoid more bickering; today started so damned uplifting and you don’t know how to keep things together anymore.

When you give your all and you don’t receive too much in return, the good moments blur out in the background to the point of becoming insignificant.

“You’re a jerk,” Arthur affirms after he’s left alone with his sibling.

“Pfft,” The Joker rolls his eyes. “It’s the tumor,” he sarcastically emphasizes.

“Bullshit! It’s not the tumor, kid. And I’m taking her out, she earned it. Your crabby ass can stay here; Y/N is certainly due for refreshing fun!” the fierce answer provokes J’s resentment.

“Definitely not!!!”

“Watch me,” Arthur scoffs at his relative’s conduct, deciding to follow you outdoors.

You watch the busy city from the 30th floor and it’s safe to say you don’t really see it; the wrists loosely hanging over the railing cue him to approach with caution.

“I had this epiphany that you should escort me to Savage Club,” he tests the waters. “If you don’t fancy to attend the gathering you can always sit at the bar and have some drinks. Call me insane but I have this hunch you might want a distraction.”

“I can’t,” you regretfully inform. “I have to ensure J takes his medications and eats; what if he has an episode while I’m gone?... I simply can’t…”

���Plenty of people to supervise him; he’ll be ok.”

You don’t reply and Arthur lights up another cigarette, nonchalantly chatting with the quiet Y/N.

“Tell you how this will play: we’ll get ready and at 6pm we are leaving with or without the kid. If he joins it’s fine, if not… infinitely better,” he elbows a sulky Y/N. C’mon, put on a happy face! See?” he grabs the corners of his mouth and forces them into an eerie grin, eager to demonstrate his proclamation. “It’s not complicated, you just have to practice,” he moves his fingers to your face and elevates the corners of your lips, trying to mimic a smirk for a few seconds. “Tough crowd…” he grumbles when there’s no reaction. “Don’t make me take out the heavy artillery,” Arthur threatens. “I used to do stand-up comedy, you know?”

“… Did you?...”  you finally respond to his repeated attempts, pretending you are clueless of his skills.

“You should be aware I’m a tour de force nobody should reckon with,” Mister Fleck boasts, super confident he can make you laugh.

“Yeah, after you tell a joke there’s so much silence you can hear the crickets chirping all the way from New York!” J snarls because he tiptoed on the patio to spy on the conversation.

“Oh yeah?!” Arthur gets annoyed and without further delay he lays upon you one of the best masterpieces to ever emerge from his genius brain: “I hope my death makes more cents than my life.”

And now he waits… and waits…

“Told you before: it’s not funny,” The Joker reprises his march back to the Penthouse, thrilled at his brother’s failure when the unthinkable happens: Y/N bursts out laughing like crazy, not necessarily due to the pun being hilarious (she actually finds it kind of sad, that’s why she didn’t react sooner).

Arthur’s inflated ego makes him shout from the top of his lungs, ensuring the younger sibling can perceive his triumphant bragging:

“IT IS FUNNY!”

************* “Welcome to my humble kingdom,” Joker guides you towards the bar among the increasing ruckus his presence is creating among the audience.

Savage Club belongs to him and his “fans” meet here on a regular basis: a safe haven for the eccentrics, misfits and wackos, ready to do whatever necessary to please their role model.  

Arthur picks a microscopic crumb from the collar of his impeccable red suit while pulling a high chair for you:

“Take a sit,” he quickly glances at the huge mirror behind the counter to make sure his clown make-up is flawless: it took him an hour to get ready after you accepted his invitation. He’s usually faster yet the feminine company required auxiliary efforts; it’s not every day you steal a woman from her crib and take her out for invigorating entertainment.

The woman being your brother’s partner makes it even better.

“J is not answering my texts,” you sigh, already worried he might be sick.

“It’s his fault for acting up,” Arthur takes out a cigarette and seven hands holding lighters pop up around him. He chooses the one belonging to the pretty lady to his right, giving her a little wicked wink that visibly flusters the recipient of such undivided attention. “I’m going to my meeting, it should take too long,” he addresses Y/N and she nods, prepared to guzzle down much needed alcohol away from the grumpy boyfriend.

“Nothing happens to my sister-in-law,” Joker barks at one of the bouncers on his way to the VIP room; there’s no soul to argue the disclosure regarding your connection so he gets away with it.

“No worries, sir; she’s safe.”

“You misunderstand,” Arthur cuts him off. “This is for their safety,” he points at the mob. “In case you didn’t recognize her, that’s Y’N and she’s in a foul mood; we all heard rumors about her temper, hm?”

“Yes, Mister Joker.”

“Don’t be an idiot!” The Clown scolds. “My brother’s Mister Joker; I’m simply Joker. Or did you forget?!”

*************

1 hour and 13 minutes later

“How are we doing?” Arthur makes himself comfortable next to you, gesturing at the 8 empty shot glasses collected in a small pyramid.

“Amazing,” you slurp from your second Mai Tai cocktail and chew on the pink straw.  

“How many can shots can you handle?” he curiously interrogates the buzzed Y/N.

“About 5,” you snort and it makes him content to notice you’re carefree for once.

“Going overboard?” Arthur snickers and you lift your glass, lively concluding: “I’ll drink to that!”

He has no beverage so he snatches a beer bottle from a guy, inquiring:

“Did you touch this?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“It’s mine,” he clinks the container against yours and instructs: ”Here’s to going overboard; bottoms up!”

**************

“Look who’s home at 2 in the morning!” J criticizes when Y/N and Arthur show up in the living room at The Penthouse.

“I wasn’t aware we had a curfew!” your drinking buddy enunciates as you hide behind him, concealing your face in the soft fabric of his jacket.

You obviously thought your boyfriend would be in bed but nope, he waited for your victorious return.

“A-are you mad?” your slurred words dissipate in the air, closely followed by hiccups.

The Joker exhales, resigned: oddly enough he missed you, although you were absent for a whopping 5 hours and a half.

“No.”

“Oh my God!” you peek from beyond your human shield as if the opposite was stated. ”W-what are you gonna do?”

“You’ll see,” J finally takes his night meds: he postponed the remedy because he wanted to be awake for this magnificent after show.

“Oh my God!” you squeak, appalled. “W-what are you gonna d-do?” the repeated question prompts actual confessions:

“First, I’ll help you take a shower and brush your teeth…”

“Oh my God!” your eyes get big like this is the worst thing ever; the inebriated Y/N can’t connect the dots too well.

“Then we’ll have sex and I’ll be sweet; you won’t remember in the morning,” The Joker sneers.

“Oh my God!” you glare at Arthur completely dumbfounded, then at J, then at Arthur who’s sturdily holding your arm so you won’t fall.

“Stop teasing her!” he hisses.

“I’m literally replying to her quizzing.”

“W-what are you gonna do?” the plastered Y/N has to know again.

“This is your fault!” The Joker comes to grab you, exasperated. “I consider you responsible!”

“Cool,” Arthur proudly delivers his date to the rightful owner. “I’ll retreat to my room and leave you kids alone,” he waves and distances from the couple while blessing them: “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you Nobody and Joker!”

“Shut the hell up!” his brother snaps, irritated at the persistent charade.

“You may kiss the bride!” Arthur mocks, positively not giving a crap about the rant: he’s an individual with a mission and won’t admit defeat that easily.

“Can you believe this shit?!” The Joker complains and shoves Y/N in one of the bathrooms downstairs. “Ewww, you smell like a distillery,” he rants while tugging on your clothes.

“Oh my God!” you whimper, distressed at his words.

“Ugghhh, you sound like a broken record!” The King of Gotham urges you to step in the shower and it doesn’t fail:

“Oh my God!”

“Seriously??!!” your actions skyrocket his blood pressure to unknown heights. “Take a break!”

“A-are you mad?” you stutter, the hot water making you even drowsier.

“I’m starting to be!!” he reprimands and you fakely sob since you can’t recall how to cry properly:

“W-what are you gonna do?”

The great Clown Prince of Crime huffs, convinced the universe unleashed you upon him to test his patience as punishment for past transgressions:

“Why me?!”

You rub your eyes and J turns off the water, bundling the intoxicated Y/N in a huge towel.

“Stupid helpless burrito,” he grunts and sweeps you off your feet, entirely done for the night.

Ahh, it sure feels nice and you bury your cheeks in his neck, burping in the process.

“Jesus!” he protests as you clumsily apologize:

“S-sorry baby…”

“I should push you off the balcony and be done with this ordeal!” he stumbles on the hallway, vexed.

The Joker really should have kept his opinion to himself since Pandora’s Box is automatically reopened.

“Oh my God!”

“I’m cursed,” the genuine declaration is accompanied by a soft kiss; despite the circumstances, The Joker is not that angry.

Arthur closes the door to his bedroom, delighted to have observed the scene:

“He kissed the bride,” the man inhales from the last cigarette of the day, flicking the bud out the window afterwards.  

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[highfivedumbledore]

REALLY long CHARACTER SURVEY.

RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !

TAGGED BY. TAGGING. all

BASICS.

FULL NAME :  ALIAS :  AGE :  BIRTHDAY :  ETHNIC GROUP :  NATIONALITY :  LANGUAGE / S :  SEXUAL ORIENTATION : yes ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : also yes RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Single-ish (depends on verse) CLASS : Upper? HOME TOWN / AREA : Thame, Oxfordshire CURRENT HOME : Los Santos PROFESSION : Golden Boy

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : Ash/Dirty Blonde. EYES : Green, goldish brownish flecks around the pupil, wobbly iris. NOSE : medium bridge, rounded tip, flared nostrils, big. (( ??? im bad at bod descriptions these are probably totally inaccurate. just look at a picture of gav’s nose.)) FACE : Squareish jaw, medium cheekbones. caterpillar eyebrows, but tamed ones. LIPS : thin. not too wide but not too small. COMPLEXION : pale. very pale. tans super easy tho. BLEMISHES : like 6 freckles. 1 in the middle of his arm, about three inches below the wrist, on the outer side of the arm. three on the right shoulder, 2 on the other. mole on the knee. florida shaped birthmark on the back of his left thigh. golden tooth in the back of his mouth count? SCARS : one five inch scar right above his right thigh, where his abdomen meets his legs. the groin? yeah. was stabbed there. various cuts on his arms from fighting, his knees are #rekt from being on them so much and just fighting and sliding and car accidents. there’s a scar on the back of his head that’s covered with hair, from where he fell and cracked his head open as a kid. various gunshot wounds from the shoulder to the legs. TATTOOS : fahc logo, abt 1x1 inches, a tramp stamp. few inches above his butt crack tbh. HEIGHT : 5′7’. WEIGHT : 125 lbs BUILD : lanky, barely there muscle. mostly leg. FEATURES : bright eyes and a cocky smile ALLERGIES : N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE : everywhere. USUAL FACE LOOK : cocky bitch USUAL CLOTHING : button downs with jeans and dress shoes, or converse.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : death, abandonment, failure, being hated ASPIRATION / S : to be loved. POSITIVE TRAITS : smart, charismatic, loyal NEGATIVE TRAITS : impatient, cocky, selfish MBTI : ESFP - The Performer ZODIAC : gemini TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic SOUL TYPE / S : creator/performer (both were tied oops) ANIMALS : cat, hawk? VICE HABIT / S : biting nails, sex? FAITH : ha?? (raised christian) GHOSTS? : lots AFTERLIFE? : if he knew he wouldn’t b afraid of death REINCARNATION? : ???? ALIENS? : probably. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : democratic. but wil and has fucked every political parties bank account. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : Upper class SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : Affluent Socialite // Anonymous benefactor EDUCATION LEVEL : grade school

FAMILY.

FATHER : Arthur Rockland Free MOTHER : Lynette Renee Free (formerly Dillard) SIBLINGS : Markis Arthur Free EXTENDED FAMILY : David Free (Grandfather), Georgia Free, (Grandmother), Francis Dillard (Grandmother), Harry Dillard (Grandfather), Daniel Dillard (Uncle), Valerie Dillard (Aunt-in-law). NAME MEANING / S : Free?? i mean. free. not under the control of another. HISTORICAL CONNECTION? : N/A

FAVOURITES.

BOOK : n/a (hasn’t read in awhile, so nothing comes to mind) MOVIE : Fantastic Beasts 5 SONGS : addict with a pen, twenty one pilots – alone together , fall out boy – house of gold , twenty one pilots – miss jackson, panic! at the disco – crazy=genius , panic! at the disco DEITY : ? none. HOLIDAY : christmas. thanksgiving. MONTH : december bc aesthetic SEASON : fall or spring bc he can wear jackets if he wants to PLACE : the shared penthouse, his own apartment bc egg is there. WEATHER : not too hot for a long sleep but not too cold to have to wear a jacket. could wear short sleeves too if you wanted. maybe not raining. SOUND : his jewelry clanking, heavy bass, SCENT / S :  literal money, anything fruity TASTE / S : fruity, anything geoff or jack makes. FEEL / S : velvet, soft things, silk, cats ANIMAL / S : cats. maybe small animals like hamsters or guinea pigs. NUMBER : 6 bc that’s how many of them are in the crew. COLOUR : greens, pastel or neon, no inbetween. lilac purple.

EXTRA.

TALENTS : excellent marksmen, fast fast typer, great with science stuff, hacking, computer things, BAD AT : hand to hand combat, handling emotions, being a good person TURN ONS : bdsm. being submissive. choking, wall pinning, things on his throat, touching the back of his neck, scratch his scalp TURN OFFS : being super gross like. nasty gross. being unloyal. HOBBIES : hacking. smokin with ray. (sometimes cocaine). video games. TROPES : Butt Monkey, The Charmer, AESTHETIC TAGS : gold, pastels, weapons, drugs GPOY QUOTES : “ Are you worth your weight in gold? ”

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S : Gavin Free ALT FC / S : Arthur Darville OLDER FC / S : ? lookin. YOUNGER FC / S : looking hardcore !!! but using gav still VOICE CLAIM / S : gav tbh. GENDERBENT FC / S : nope.

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE , WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED , WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN , AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT ?

a1 : it’d probably be called golden boy. but he’d want to either film it as a documentary and show how literally one ‘little’ event can fuck you up so bad that you become a mass murderer with very little feelings about your crimes but intense feelings abt your crew members. either that, or a law and order type thing. only he doesn’t get caught in the end.

Q2 : WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK / SCORE SOUND LIKE ?

a2 : probably lots of panic at the disco and shit. anything on a piano also.

Q3 : WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER ?

a3 : i started playing vav from x-ray and vav and i was like. okay but gta. and then i was like. okay but what if i made a blog just for gta. and then i did and i have no regrets.

Q4 : WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER ?

a4: tragedy and murder.

Q5 : DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

a5 : he’s a fucking piss baby?? like holy shit. calm the fuck down and lose some of your emotions. they’re inconvenient as hell and it makes people hate you, which you hate already, and you need to calm the fuck down.

Q6 : WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE ?

a6 : ?? gold aesthetic. want lots of money.

Q7 : HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU ?

a7 : tbh i dont even know. i have friends that turned out as fucked up as gav but without the murder and they think im ok. so probably ok.

Q8 : WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH ?

a8 : ? all.

Q9 : WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE ?

a9 : murder.

Q10 : HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE ?

a10 : UHM. FOUR HOURS ????? BC I GET DISTRACTED.

[daincrediblegg]

Can you please feed us some GORGEOUS Gen x Arthur hc's ????? Because we love you and we love Arthur and we stan our OTP. Please and thanks xp [I got'chu, boo

Genevieve x Arthur Fleck Headcanons

lmao LMAO LMAO ok so... idk what this is??? this is just how we are irl. ain’t no real scenario around it, but it still serves as a basic breakdown of our relationship as it’s unfolded the last 7 months or so. Thank you for giving me a platform to share this lmao. Sorry if it’s cringey and personal as hell, but hey, that’s life, and y’all know I don’t give a fuck by now.

We met in October. I’d snuck into a showing of Joker with my dad after the premier of Zombieland 2, and watched his story unfold. I couldn’t get him out of my head the whole night. I saw him again a little less than a week later, and I’d realized I’d wanted more. We’d agreed to meet for coffee the next day.

The next couple of weeks was just pure fascination with each other. I poured my heart into learning everything about him, and he seemed so genuinely interested in learning all he could about me too. 

Even though I was going through what’s easily been one of the most harrowing mental health crises that I’ve ever experienced… he fell quick for me, and hard. And I did too. He… he made me feel like I wasn’t alone. We were leading very similar lives (minus, y’know, murder- on my end), and knowing that he felt my pain when it seemed like not a whole lot of people really did… it made me feel seen. And it didn’t take long for things to get really heated. We’ve been together ever since.

He’s the one that got me to start taking my medication. I’d never been on antidepressants, and I was a little scared of the side-affects since the only other ones I’d tried made me dizzy and out of breath (and I’m a massive hypochondriac on top of all the other shit I’ve got going on in my head). But he convinced me that I was worth living for, and that was the little push I needed. I knew I wanted to get better, but he’d convinced me that I could. 

I drew him a lot those first few months we were together. His physicality still entrances me to this day. His elegance, yet this almost distinctly cartoonish poise and his innocence… he inspired me a lot. More than I had been in months. He’s shy about being the subject of a lot of my drawings… but he lets me anyway because he’s amazed at how it shows how I see him (which is fucking beautiful, like a disney prince thank you very much). 

We spent a lot of those first few months just lying in bed after a long day of writing and drawing, holding each other close and talking. About everything. It all felt so freeing to me that I could say just about anything to him and have him actually listen without judgement. And sure, he has his opinions, but he doesn’t dismiss mine.  

We did so much together too. We used to go to movies (not just his lmao), we got hot chocolates together and walked around town during christmas time.

For Christmas he gave me a beautiful necklace- a pretty blue/green pendant on a gold chain (that y’all might’ve seen in some of my selfies- and I wear it DAILY) and a silver bracelet with little red roses and garnets on it. They’re some of the best presents I’ve ever gotten. 

I gave him a scarf (that I’d worn out to work for weeks so that it’d smell like me at his request) and some chocolate.

I was also dealing with quite a few health problems those first few months, so he’s well versed in all my medical bullshit lmao.

I’ve got a weird bladder that just constantly feels infected (even though it’s actually not most of the time), which means that we can’t have penetrative sex sometimes (but we’re just as happy to touch each other in different ways even when I can’t stand to go all the way).

I was still having some panic attacks when I was on a higher dosage of my medication, and he’s very good at bringing me down from them. He holds me close and tells me to breathe slowly and deeply with him until I calm down and start to feel okay- even when I get super fidget-y from it. I can’t begin to thank him enough for helping me through it all as he has.

We don’t argue much. We see eye-to-eye where it counts, so we hardly ever get into moral disputes. But when we do it’s usually when I’m in a depressive rut and I’ve gone distant. He’s never raised his voice at me when it happens, but some heated conversations have spawned from it. And I’ll admit I’m not the most eloquent with these things sometimes. And I’ve said things that I didn’t mean to hurt him but just to say with honesty. He knows I have doubts sometimes. He does too, but we’ve been able to work through them well enough-better than most I imagine.

We uh… we have a lot of sex. No surprise.

We’re virgins (well, technically. At least with the opposite sex). We’re horny. We’ve got high sex drives and we’re not afraid to take it out on each other.

I’ve had a lot of body anxiety in the past, but with Arthur it feels even more non-existent than it’s ever been. He really loves my body. Not in a fetish-y way like a lot of guys have hinted at in the past. When I’m with him I really feel like his desire for me comes from love, that my body isn’t just a thing to get him off, but rather that he desires me for who and what I am, and I haven’t really ever felt that even with any of the other FICTIONAL guys I’ve been with before.

And he knows that I love him just the same. Body and soul. It’s a total two-way street. And we never feel the need to change for each other one bit. For that I’m so grateful god I could fucking cry.

And it’s made me do a lot of things that I kinda didn’t want or thought were inaccessible to me before I met him. I fucking wear lacy bras and matching panties (for the first time in my life!!!) on the reg because Arthur said that I deserved to have them if I wanted them (not to mention that I look beautiful in them to him), and now I’m coming around to the idea of putting on a little makeup ‘cause it makes me feel really pretty and Arthur agrees???? Like this MAN has really made me flourish for the better tbh I love him so fucking much. 

Before the pandemic he used to meet me at my regular haunt to watch me work after his gig for the day. He’d sit across from me and watch me fumble around with all my outlines and notes, sometimes taking out his own journal himself while he steals some of my coffee, taking my hand and running a thumb over it idly.

He really enjoys my screenwriting. My writing is very exciting, he says. He’s really supportive of my career choice, even though it’s still a long ways off from being anything tangible or serious. And he’s very supportive of the things I’ve written about him too. He doesn’t mind as long as some things get to stay just between us (and by and large he says I’ve done a pretty good job of that lmao). 

I sing for him a lot. We dance together too. I’ve always been a singer for as long as I can remember but being so depressed so long I didn’t really as much as I’d have liked. But for him I sing just about every day. Lotta swing-jazz numbers like from Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby and Caro Emerald. Some classic rock like Elton John and Billy Joel and Jethro Tull. He says he likes the way I sing their songs the best. Idk if I agree with him, but I believe him. 

He says we’re a dynamic duo in a way. Like since he dances and I sing, we’re a complete show. It’s the cutest fucking shit he’s ever said to me 

We kind of agreed to get married once the lockdown’s over. Neither of us really proposed to the other, exactly. We had been thinking about it for months (we’ve been talking about it since Christmas lmao- he’s said he wants to marry me so many times), but the first few weeks of this lockdown thing were really hard on me. It all felt very harrowing with everything changing all at once. 

And it was really touch-and-go for us. It was harder for me to feel him. And sure it had been hard before but it was… not quite as bad as this was. I almost thought we were done. 

But he stuck around, and helped me through it as much as he could despite how numb I was feeling. And he was still there when the dust settled, even stronger than before. So I told him one morning that I wanted to get married when all of this was over, and he agreed. 

So once the shelter in place order is lifted, we’re gonna go to the same jewlery shop he got me my favorite necklace, and pick out some rings. I for one am very excited.

And until then we’re perfectly content to enjoy this break from our normal everyday lives with each other. Even though it’s been harder for me to write we’re pulling through this whole thing just fine. 

[daincrediblegg]

A fluffy gift for Egg, do with this what you will~

Your ringing ears were met with the telltale click of the door unlocking. The screeching whine produced by the rickety old doors hinges was familiar to you, it always signaled the arrival of your loving returning home to you after an arduous day apart. Yet today it’s significance was vastly overwhelmed by the grating effect its squeaking, neglected hardware provided. You were gripped with a pounding, incessant migraine. The sort that radiated from behind both eyes as it webbed wicked, malicious tendrils around the entirety of your skull, the surrounding muscles tightening in protest of the affliction. It spidered down your neck, biting into your traps where the base of your collar met shoulders. Everything was hazy; you were plagued with a maddening throbbing from your temples to your upper back, the mass of muscles irritated as a result. All you found you were capable of doing was laying as still as you could stand on the couch, desperation fueling you to rub circles over your forehead, pressing fingers down along the ridge of your brows, applying much needed pressure to your wailing temples. Everything otherwise innocuous and mundane now taunted you with its newfound ability to inflict pain and suffering. The television was too loud and blinding, no matter how low you set the volume. Not even the preferred, soft glow of candle light was tolerable, rendering you weakened in the pitch black of the apartment.

The moment he entered the apartment, it was instantly evident something was wrong. Arthur gingerly shut the door behind him with a muted click, shrugging his worn jacket from his narrow shoulders. Anytime he returned home, especially after a day as long as this, the atmosphere was always vibrant thanks to you. Typically at the stove spoiling him with another home-cooked specialty from scratch, or eager footsteps from another room in his quaint apartment as you hurriedly abandoned whatever it was you had been up to just to greet him. He was alarmed to the shift simply from the absence of music, muffled beyond the door as he fished his keys from his pocket. He could almost guarantee that any given evening he returned home to you, he was alerted to your presence by the crooning sounds of Fleetwood Mac or Clapton before he even ventured inside your shared space. Further startling, the apartment was dark. No fragrant candles burning, the cozy light emitting from an end table lamp, not even the luminescence from the television.

“Gen?”, he set the keys down on the counter adjacent to the door, leaning against the wall to steady himself as he set to prying off his shoes, “how was your day?”

He was simply met with a groan, sounding very much like it was breathed into a pillow or thick, knit blanket. Upon further inspection he found your form curled tightly in a ball, face buried in a pillow, an overall tense set to your luscious form.

“That good, huh?” his thin lips twisted in a sympathetic smile as he sank down slowly next to you, the cushions dipped beneath his weight, signaling his closeness. He brought a sinewy hand to rest delicately on your shoulder, thumb rubbing gently against your clothed deltoid.

“I want to die.” your mumble almost a whimper, refusing to uncurl yourself to acknowledge him properly. You hadn’t spoken all day, and now the act of speech felt labored, your words thick around your cotton tongue, mouth nearly devoid of all moisture. He chuckled a little, raking calloused finger tips down your back soothingly, up and down. His tone was a quiet murmur, the gentle rasp music to your tinnitus beset ears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were that close to your period,” long, dexterous fingers dragged up your back to thread in your hair, combing his fingers through your silken, dark locks.

“Oh, no it’s not that, I almost wish it was,” you craned your neck as much as the discomfort would allow, and you opened one heavily-lidded eye in his direction, “I woke up with the worst headache and nothing is helping.”

Olive iris immediately softened as you spoke, as he continued to affectionately stroke your hair, corralling the disheveled strands to hook behind your ear. You were everything to him, you injected so much warmth and color into his life that was so uniquely you. Your personal brand had stamped itself onto every facet of his life, and he couldn’t feel more fortunate or grateful. However seeing you laying there, your color drained, your sparkling eyes decidedly dulled and your ebullience replaced lethargy did his heart break. Of all the ways in which you had imbued an unstoppable feeling in him, the feeling intoxicating as he had never felt anything of the sort before you, he knew he was utterly powerless to help. He couldn’t take your headache from you and experience it in your stead as much as he ached to, and he couldn’t dispel the pain with a snap of his fingers, like he so desperately wished he could. He’d be damned, however, if that would stop him from doing everything in his power to nurse you back to health as much as he was able.

“Did you have coffee today?”

“Of course.”

“Water?”

Your silence caused him to arch an eyebrow, his countenance playfully scolding you.

“I…I had coffee, which technically counts it has water in it.”

He carefully stood, knees creaking as he did so, “you should know better than to use my own lines on me, missy.”

Eye popping open just to a narrow slit, you stole a peek to see he was grinning despite his teasing.

“Just lay there, I’ll be right back.”

Coiling into an even tighter ball on yourself, migraine rearing with vengeance, you shut both eyes once more, offering a weak, “Uh-huh.”

Arthur returned after just a few moments of running water at the sink, bringing with him two compresses. He urged you to sit up right, before placing the neatly folded towels; a cold compress over your forehead, and a warm one to drape over the back of your neck and shoulders.

“I’m going to go start the shower for you,” his lips brushed against your hairline in a peck as he stood once more, “just keep those on for the time being.”

-

After running the water for a few moments, and checking numerous times that the temperature was just right, he guided you to the bathroom with him, helping you out of your clothing while you rested your head against the crook of his neck.

He peppered kisses to the top of your head, ceasing his disrobing of you just to quickly bury his fingers in your shoulder length hair once more, massaging gentle circles into the base of your skull as you purred.

“How are we doing?”

“Better,” you hummed against his prominent collar bone, your warm breath ghosting across his skin and raising goosebumps as you did so, “the lights a little harsh on my eyes though.”

“I’ll take care of that, just get in,” he peeled the pale shower curtain back, watching your bare form retreat into the tiled enclosure with an appreciative glint in his eyes, “I’ll join you in a moment.”

The droplets of hot water pelted against your skin, enveloping you in a welcome embrace of delicious heat and clouds of steam. Your skin tingled from the sensation, melting the tension from your knotted muscles near instantly as you stood beneath the steady stream, eyes still shut.

You were alerted to Arthur’s return with the heavy padding of his bare footsteps, and the click of his lighter piercing the drone from the shower head. Cautiously allowing one eye open to glance your surroundings, you were pleasantly met with the bathroom bathed in total darkness, save for the flicker of a candle just behind the curtain on the bathroom sink, silhouetting Arthur as he shed his slacks and undershirt.

A quick rush of cool air swirled in as he peeled the curtain back to entertain, the goosebumps prickling against your skin soon soothed with his warm flesh as he embraced you in a hug from behind. He sighed against your ear, placing a kiss there, as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, nuzzling against your wet hair, beginning to leave a trail of kisses along your neck, dipping his head to reach your shoulder.

You melted in his touch, your fingers lazily brushing through the dusting of hair on his forearms, the muscles tensed as he all but held you up. His smell was clean, yet with an underlying hint of musk, akin to staleness from multiple cigarettes. You breathed it in almost greedily as the water dripped down your joined bodies. His gaunt body was quite firm, and he always ran incredibly hot. The bridge of his nose brushed against your jaw as he peppered the front of your throat with kisses.

“You know, I’ve heard orgasms can help with migraines.”

“Oh? Is that so?” his lips curled into a smirk against your damp skin, the scar puckering above his upper lip crinkling in the process.

Your eyes still shut, you tilted your head back to rest against his shoulder as his lips continued their affectionate, gentle assault. “Mhm.”

His voice a deep, hoarse rumble, “you know now that you mention it I seem to recall hearing something similar.”

You giggled as he pulled you closer, playfully nipping at your collar bone.

-

The two of you found yourself curled up in bed, Arthur deftly combing your damp locks with his fingers and gently twirling it as to be able to clip it up to keep it off your neck and out of your face. You laid against his side, legs twisted with his as you nursed the peppermint tea he had fixed for you.

“What would you like to watch?” you snuggled further into him, fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest.

Satisfied with his handy-work on your hair, he pawed at the end table, seeking the TV guide and set to thumbing through the pages.

“Well, we can watch the re-run of last nights WKRP in Cincinnati, or catch tonights episode of Taxi. Your call.”

“Hmm, WKRP.”

“You got it.”

It were the nights like these that kept Arthur going. You had always given your all so selflessly to him, you cared for him in ways he had never experienced, and did so so deeply, and without stipulation. Nights like these he could give back, prove to you in unspoken terms that he appreciated all you were and all you did for him.

Before long, he could feel your body go lax against his, deeper breaths escaping through your full lips as a much needed sleep over took you. He smiled to himself, running his hand up and down your back once more as he watched Howard Hesseman and Tim Reid ping off one another on the television unit at the foot of the bed.

All was right with the world.

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hey uh fam???? 3 read-throughs and I’m still like consistently on the verge of tears???? this turned a weird fuckin emotional day into a really good one and oh my god I don’t know if I could ever pay you back for this but I hope me screaming in your dms about how beautiful and detailed this thing is for the last 3 hours has been a good fucking start. Seriously. My fucking HERO. 

[ajokeformur-ray]

omg could you write something where reader gets jealous of arthur? love your written btw

anonymous asked: can you please do an imagine with arthur fleck/joker x reader where they’ve been together for awhile but once the reader starts noticing his descend into becoming joker she also notices his new infatuation with sophie? 🖤🦋

IMPLIED NSFW AT END. Swearing. Lighthearted fluff.

Word count: 1, 782 (I am incapable of writing short things omg)

Stop primping honey you’re perfect omgggg

“Hey, Arthur!” 

Arthur stopped mid sentence in telling you about his day to turn and look at Sophie. She was stood at the end of the hall, a friendly smile on her face. The answering smile that lit Arthur’s face was usually the one that he reserved for you; the one that deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and made the dimples in his cheeks a little more pronounced.

“Hey!” His eyes dipped as he looked near Sophie’s knee height and the smile on his face widened even further. You felt a stab of jealousy twist in your gut. You did your best to brush it off, to push it down. Arthur was trying to communicate with Sophie. He was shy and awkward and he was doing his best to extend an olive branch in friendship to her. His daily efforts were admirable and his face took on a look of childlike innocence as he gazed at Gigi. “Hi, Gigi!”

Gigi had a nervous look on her round face as she shyly waved at Arthur before her bravado left her and she hid behind Sophie, shuffling backwards.

Sophie laughed, put her hand on Gigi’s head. “Okay, come on, baby. We gotta get you to bed.” Sophie gave you a friendly smile and nodded her goodbye to Arthur before she made her way further down the hall, her heels clicking harshly in the empty corridor; they sounded much louder with no other noise to block them.

You eye rolled as Arthur stood there with the smile frozen on his face. He waited until the door to Sophie’s apartment clicked shut and then he turned, slender fingers tucking some errant strands of hair behind his ears. You let yourself into the apartment, holding the door open for Arthur. You didn’t smile when he brushed his body deliberately against yours as a way of reminding himself that you were still real, still there. You just set about shedding your damp coat, toeing off your shoes, and sorting yourself out.

You barely looked at Arthur. 

At first, he thought nothing of it. Sometimes you liked to be quiet and the peaceful stillness of your bodies and minds that occurred in moments like those were so priceless to Arthur. It reminded him that he didn’t had to try to be or do anything, that he was allowed to simply exist and be and that you were safe together in this cramped but cosy apartment.

It was only when he tried to kiss you on the cheek and you ducked out of the way, still irrationally annoyed, did he realise that something was wrong.

“Y-Y/N?” A crease between his brow. Arthur tilted his head so that he could look you fully in the face, but you refused to meet his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”

You paused. Took a deep breath. In, out, let it go… Shook your head. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Despite the way you meant to sound comforting, your words came out flat and consequently went unheard by Arthur. He pressed you for information and you knew you had to tell him. There was no getting out of this one.

“Then why can’t I kiss you?” Arthur’s voice was quiet, gentle. The crease in his brow was becoming deeper the more confused he became, and you could tell that he wasn’t allowing himself to feel hurt or rejected until you answered his question. Sometimes miscommunications arose easily between you and both of you made concerted efforts to keep emotions out of the equation until the situation was fully understood. Your relationship had more challenges in it than most, but fuck did you fight hard for what you had painstakingly built together.

You were tempted to kiss Arthur in that moment to show that he could kiss you, you weren’t really mad, just… jealous. But you also knew that kisses to Arthur were happy, full of joy and love and you kissing him right now wouldn’t be well received because he would think that you had done it out of obligation; that you didn’t really want to kiss him but you were doing it to keep him quiet. You knew Arthur well enough to know that if you kissed him now, you would do irreparable damage to your relationship. Even when you were feeling less than positive did you have to be so very mindful of Arthur and the way that his damaged brain worked. 

He was never more than one wrong moment away from distancing himself from you, though by no means were you ever walking on egg shells; no, you loved him so much that you always did what you could to look after him, even when you were the one who wanted to be looked after. 

Arthur was the same, though - even if he had had a shitty day, even if his day had been so bad it had been all he could do to just get home, if he saw that you were having a bad day too did he put everything aside to look after you. 

You had a relationship of give and take, of care and love, and sometimes you both had to put your own feelings aside in the same moment to care for the other. You didn’t mind though, you never could, because in looking after each other even when you didn’t want to were you able to care after your own selves; your relationship was so involved, so emotionally intimate and physically close, that even when you hadn’t spoken for hours were you able to stretch your fingers or your thoughts out and find the other already waiting with open arms and listening ears.

You sighed quietly, your annoyance slipping away already. You could never feel any negativity towards Arthur for any long stretch of time; you loved him too much. Part of you wondered if you had a healthy relationship together, but the larger side of you didn’t care. All you had was each other in the grand scheme of things, so why not throw yourself right in there? You were equally obsessed with each other and you both loved it. “You can’t kiss me because you smiled my smile at Sophie.” The words were out before you could stop them and you slapped a hand over your mouth, your eyes wide as you stepped away from Arthur, at the same time stepping away from the situation so you could just think and breathe and figure out why you were suddenly jealous over a simple greeting being exchanged in a corridor.

A pause in which neither of you breathed and you just stared at each other.

Then, a single hiccup turned into several hiccups. Hiccups turned to soft giggles and then… oh, and then, Arthur’s chuckles became long, raspy breaths as he laughed. It wasn’t a laughter filled with pain, discomfort or sorrow, anger or any of the usual reasons which caused him to laugh uncontrollably. No. No, Arthur was laughing because he was amused by your jealousy. Over him. Really, did wonders never cease? You smiled despite yourself at the way you had made him laugh. With happiness, amusement and disbelief.

You had made Arthur genuinely laugh and it almost made your jealousy, spiking hot through your body, worth it.

Almost.

“Oh, I’m so glad I amuse you!” You couldn’t have helped the smile tugging at your lips if you had tried. You didn’t. You could never stay mad at him for anything. He was just too cute. He was soft and kind and good and everything you had ever wanted in a life partner and he knew it. He knew how loved and cherished he was and moments like this proved any acidic thoughts wrong; his negative thoughts had been less prominent in the time that you had been together but he still had them. Still did they reign with an ice cold grip over his battered heart but you were always there with heated kisses and warm, gentle hands to chase them away.

Arthur tried to stop his laughter, mirth making his green eyes glitter, but he couldn’t help himself. He laughed out loud, not bothering to clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle the beautiful sounds he was making. This wasn’t the kind of feeling he had been taught to hide, to be ashamed of. No, this was… this was sheer joy and he wanted to let himself feel it for as long as it was there.

You stood there and watched him, taking the time to just look. He was fucking beautiful. Even that word didn’t seem to quite cut it. He was exquisite, a delicacy to be truly savoured, a book to be opened and read carefully, your eyes taking in each word with the intent of taking your time. A mystery to be never fully explained. You remained convinced that he was not of this world; the citizens of Gotham were cruel, underhanded and arguably more demonic than demons. They were cold and brash and cared nothing for the people they had to step on - usually literally - in order to get to where they wanted to go but Arthur… Arthur was so innocent. He had a childlike wonder about the world and no matter what it did to him did he seem to bounce back. He was so strong.

Arthur bit on his lip as laughter turned to hiccups and finally he hummed to himself, love all over his face. He stood there, chest heaving slightly with the force of his expression, and there must have been something on your face because he stepped forward, grabbed your face in both hands and pressed his lips to yours. There was none of his usual endearing shyness, with his eyes wandering over your face as he wondered if he dared to kiss you. There was only certainty as he kissed you, his lips hot and hard against yours as he took what he wanted, what you both wanted: the knowledge that you were in love and together and nothing would ever change that.

“How about we show Sophie who I belong to, hm?” There was a quiet undertone of something in Arthur’s voice that made your stomach clench in anticipation and you wound your fingers in his hair, pulling lightly at the strands as you nodded your consent against his lips.

You didn’t know where this confidence had come from, but as a dark shiver tingled down your spine and you pressed yourself into Arthur, eager for everything he would give you tonight, you couldn’t deny that you liked it.

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