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whack-ed · 4 years

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“Just Friends” (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Synopsis: A halloween party was what it took for you to finally do what you wanted to do with Fred.

Warnings: make out; underage drinking and extremely flirtation.

Reader: Female

World Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I had some personal problems to solve, but here I am! this is a oneshot for the special A very Harry Potter Halloween by @masterofthedarkness and @eleven-times-lively. This one is for the 30th with the prompt Halloween Party! Hope you like it :)

tag list: @nebulablakemurphy @jamilelucato @inglourious-imagines @acciotwinz @clarissaxpearce

if you want to be tagged, send me a ask!

Finally October, the favorite time of year for Y/n. For various reasons, fantasies, sweets, the weather, absolutely everything Y/n loved most was present in October. But probably the thing the girl liked the better was the Weasley twins' Halloween party. And this year promised, it was the twins' last year at school and they promised the best Halloween party this school has ever seen.

Usually Y/n knew everything the twins were preparing, since they were a quartet. The twins, Y/n and Lee. These four names together gave chills to any teacher. But not this time. This year it was just Fred and George who were looking for trouble. The twins didn't let Y/n and Lee participate at all, the surprise was for everyone. And of course, Y/n's anxiety didn't leave the twins alone for a minute.

"Please Fred, tell me at least the color of the glasses!" Y/n insisted on Fred saying at least a little detail about the party. The secret was complete.

"I already said that I don't speak a word to you, Y/n" The redhead replied laughing.

They were in a history of magic class, automatically nobody was paying attention. The twins sat in the last row, Y/n and Lee just ahead.

"What are the drinks going to be, that's no big deal!" Lee asked as curious as Y/n.

"Not a word, Lee," George replied with a sly smile on his face, the same as the one on his brother's face.

"I hate you both" Y/n said irritably and turned forward.

Fred who was behind Y/n leaned forward and rested his head on the girl's shoulder, whispering her ear. Fred's proximity to Y/n's ear made the girl get goosebumps and close her eyes while the redhead spoke. "You don't miss out on waiting, baby"

George and Lee exchanged a look that they knew well what it meant. Y/n and Fred have always had this relationship ... doubtful. Nothing but indirect flirtations happened between the two, there was never anything else. George and Lee always questioned the two of them if something happened in the backstage that they didn't see, and of course, the answer was always the same "We are just friends". Only friends my ass, George thought. The boy knew his brother well to know when he was lying.

Fred then returned to his seat and Y/n kept her eyes closed digesting the sensation she had just had, wishing it had lasted a little longer. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times, returning to reality.

"My God, the sexual tension between you two can be cut with a knife," Lee said making the three friends laugh.

"We are just friends, you know that" Y/n replied and noticed that this time Fred's laugh was not genuine. Apparently George noticed it too. But of course it could only be Y/n's head.

The class passed slowly as usual, but amid laughter, scolding from the teacher and notes on the parchment, time finally passed. It was already lunchtime and Y/n couldn't be more thankful for that. Her thoughts could go from Fred to the mountain of mashed potatoes that awaited her.

Weeks passed and the twins had not yet given any information about the party. It wasn't just Lee and Y/n who were looking forward now, all seventh graders as well. The fact that Umbridge was taking care of the school, making so many rules, only made things more exciting. The twins couldn't be loud ... At least not in theory.

Now everyone was in the common room, some doing their homework and others just hanging out. Everything was calm until the most beloved twins in the world came in doing what they do best, drawing attention.

“My dear student friends" George was saying.

"Me and my dear brother, we finally have the invitations ready!" Fred completed.

"And what does that mean, bro?" George asked doing a theatrical pose.

"That not even the pink toad was able to stop the Weasley Twins!" Fred completed again by opening his arms also in a theatrical way.

“But it’s worth remembering that the party is only for people from the fifth year upwards” Some sad moans were heard from some students from the fourth year downwards “So my little grasshoppers, you who didn’t taste one of our Halloween parties, will have to look for that taste in our store! ” George announced and the sad moans automatically turned into happy faces.

“That's right! We believe that very soon, our store will have a physical point and will be 100% prepared to serve all of you little pests! ” Fred said laughing and started handing out the invitations.

The invitations were not common, as nothing the twins did was common, no one was surprised, just curious. They were orange sweets in the shape of mini pumpkins.

“But is this sweet? How should we know where and when to go with a sweet? ” Ron asked as soon as George handed him one of the pumpkins.

"I suggest taking a bite, little brother," Fred said mockingly, handing one to Y/n. "I made this one especially for you" And winked at the girl. Hers was Y/F/C , your favorite color. As soon as the girl saw the candy she smiled at Fred and got a little flushed.

As soon as Ron took a bite of the fearful candy, sparkles that resembled fireworks with a date, time and place emerged from the pumpkin.

"We just suggest that you don't eat it whole, eating the other piece makes you invisible for 15 minutes, so you can go to the party without drawing unnecessary attention" Fred said with a smile on his face, proud of what he had done.

It was amazing how these boys were the life of the party wherever they went. Y/n smile so proudly for the boys. After the euphoria of delivery of the pumpkins, the boys sat on the sofa with only a few students in the room, most of had already gone to sleep. Y/n was in an armchair by the fireplace, reading a book. Fred settled on the floor in front of the girl and rested his head on her knees. George sat next to Lee on the couch.

"Okay, now that we have everything set up, what will your fantasy be?" George asked to his friends.

"I was thinking of going as a werewolf" Lee replied playing with the hem of his shirt.

"What a cliché, Lee" Hermione who was finishing up her homework said from across the room. She, Harry and Ron were actually finishing up their homework. But everyone knew that the boys were just waiting for Hermione to finish copying hers.

"You're right, he should go as you Hermione, who knows, maybe someone will put limits on this party?" Ron replied laughing, immediately regretting because of Hermione's furious reaction.

"And what are you going to be dressed up for?" Y/n asked lowering the book, she had stopped paying attention long ago.

"Us? Secret too" Fred replied to the girl.

"You guys are getting unbearable with this, you know?" Y/n said looking at the twins.

"Just noticed now?" Lee said sarcastically.

Y/n snorted angrily and pulled her legs up so that Fred could no longer lean on them, causing the boy to turn his head to her laughing.

"You look so beautiful when you're mad" He said and stood up and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's past time for us to go to sleep, we need energy to organize what comes tomorrow, Georgie"

George got up too and agreed with his brother, so the two went up to the dorm wishing everybody a good night.

"I'll see if I can get anything out of them before bed, good night, Y/n" Lee said and went after the twins.

Harry was already drooling at the table, Ron was almost, only Hermione was still focused. Y/n got up and headed for the girls' dorm.

"Good night, Mione" Y/n said.

"When are you two going to assume you have more than a friendship, Y/n?" Hermione asked before she went up. The girl laughed and shook her head.

"We are just friends"

The following days passed with Y/n listening to discussions to see what would be the fantasy of her friends. Lee really was a werewolf, Hermione was from an important witch that nobody really understood who was just that had something to do with defending giants, Ron was going as a auror, Harry as a quidditch player, and of course the fantasy of Fred and George it was still a secret.

At breakfast on the day of the party, everyone was euphoric. The whispers came not only from the Gryffindor table, but from all of them, even some Slytherins were excited.

And because she kept her head elsewhere, Y/n ended up forgetting to think about her fantasy. Then, taking advantage of having a visit to Hogsmade that day, she asked Hermione for help in choosing a costume. The girls went to each clothing store until they found the perfect costume. That was it, they thought. It perfectly matched Y/n's personality.

The hours passed and now it was only an hour before the twins' Halloween party. The girls in Y/n's room were euphoric. They had pirates, healers, vampires, it looked like a children's book in one room. Y/n was finishing her makeup and would already be ready to leave. The outfit she had chosen was nothing less than court jester. Not a dull court jester, according to Hermione, and here I quote her words, she was a “sexually desirable jester”. A colorful short dress, socks to the thighs one of each color, hair tied with colored ribbons and a cute clown makeup. It was perfect.

"You look perfect, Y/n!" Angelina said to the girl with colored ribbons in her hair.

"You too, Angie, wonderful by the way!" Y/n said to her friend that was dressed as a fairy.

The two then descended together, meeting several people in costume in the main hall. And in the sea of mummies and mermaids, Y/n spotted the werewolf she was looking for.

“Lee! Lee! ” The girl called and Lee turned to see her.

"Y/n ... Bloody hell woman, now I understand what Fred talks about so much" Lee replied looking Y/n up and down.

"What does Fred say?" Y/n asked frankly eyebrows.

"He keeps saying you have phenomenal thighs," Lee replied, staring at her legs.

“Hey! Lee! Eyes up here! ” Y/n responded making the boy automatically look embarrassed, but then laughing.

"Let's go then?" Lee asked Y/n and she nodded.

The two then ate all the pumpkin and automatically the picture of the fat woman opening, looked like a passage of ghosts, no one was seen, all you could hear were footsteps and some muffled laughter through the corridors.

Finally, after walking a lot trying to make a minimum of noise, they reached the precise room. The door opened and the legion of students entered the place. When Fred and George said it was going to be the best Halloween party this school has ever seen, they weren't kidding.

There were already some students in the room, but the decor was clear. They had colorful and noiseless fireworks shining on the ceiling tirelessly, they seemed bewitched to last all night. The smoke on the ground made it look like a swamp, you could barely see people's feet. The tables set with various sweets with different shapes and a large bowl with punch, certainly alcoholic. The walls decorated with purple and orange ribbons all over the place. Of course, cobwebs, skeletons and pumpkins were placed in every corner. The music was loud, but it was not heard outside, they had also bewitched it. The only strange thing was that Fred and George were not yet in place.

More and more people were arriving and none of the twins. Y/n was having fun with Lee and other friends, but missed the redheaded duo. While some students were kissing in a corner and others were stuffing themselves with food, Y/n was dancing with a glass in her hand, like there's no tomorrow. She moved her hips from side to side without caring if she was drawing too much attention. Tonight was really for that.

The only part of the place that no one had understood was the stairway in the corner of the room that led to a balcony and a small door that nobody could open. After a while, Y/n ignored the stairs, and suddenly after the girl's third glass, the door made sense. It had opened up and the music had turned down the volume. There they were, Fred and George came out of the door in the costume of Kings. Y/n laughed with them and stopped dancing, looking at the boys.

"Feel free, my subjects, the party is yours today!" Fred said raising his hands.

"And remember, if you are not going to party like us, you can leave" George added.

"And let the party really start!" Fred shouted and everyone shouted in agreement.

The twins then descended the stairs, as if they were true kings. Strangely, their fantasy matched the boys perfectly. Y/n after seeing that the boys were already enjoying the party normally, she took another sip of her drink and started dancing again.

The music playing was sensual, and it is clear that the girl, with the courage that the drink gave her, took advantage of the moment. She had wanted to do this for years, and the opportunity never came, but now? Last year, she was going to do what she wanted without fear.

Y/n started to dance to the music, as sensual as the beat of each note. She knew they had several pairs of eyes on her, but only one interested her. Then the girl turned to where Fred was and she couldn't be more pleased to see that he was looking at her like a dog is looking at a piece of meat, with pure desire. She then danced looking directly at him.

Fred couldn't hold on any longer, he dodged the crowd and came very close to Y/n, grabbed her waist tightly and without thinking, he kissed the girl. It was as if everyone in the room had disappeared. They were just there, Y/n and Fred. The girl returned the kiss at the same time her lips met, placing her hands on the boy's neck.

The two separated only because they were forced to breathe. Keeping foreheads glued together. Smiling broadly. And you can hear George and Lee in the background shouting "Finally!" "Just friends, my ass!" And things like that. But Fred and Y/n couldn't care less.

"So.. hm, I think we're not just friends after all, huh?" Fred says laughing still being very close to you.

"I don't think we ever were just friends"

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley twins #fanfiction #Gryffindor #slytherin #x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #harry potter fanfiction #halloween #harry potter #a very harry potter halloween

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thrill-seeker-if · 3 years

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(two characters staring at each other's lips) for n🤲 my beloved🤲🙏🤲

Hello Anon!! Such a cute prompt!!

Under the cut! (Word count: 1134 words)

“Stay still, N, you're making this harder for me!” You can’t keep the exasperation out of your voice.

You’ve been trying (or, well, failing) at putting makeup on them. This little sleepover was supposed to relieve your stress, not make you feel like you were in a fashion show.

N had not done your makeup yet, but you knew how good they were already. You didn't want to look bad.

You didn't want to make them look bad, either, but they probably didn't get the memo because they were fidgeting too much!

They swiveled in their chair a little while you put the blush on, they played with their hands, they chewed the inside of their cheek-- they were just making it harder for you, and you had a sneaking suspicion they were doing it on purpose from the shit-eating grin they were wearing.

"N. Stop. Moving." You don't know how many times you've complained about it already, but you really are losing your patients.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I just can't help it," Oh, but they can, and they're choosing not to, and it's their smile that gives it away again.

The fact that they're doing it intentionally-- it's driving you more crazy than how fast your heart was beating from that little pet name. Even when they were annoying you, you found them attractive. And that-- that was more than a little frustrating.

You were laying the blush on too thick. They looked like a clown, but right now, you felt like the circus.

Fine. You wouldn't get anywhere with this. You put the blush stick down.

N had insisted on sitting in the chair in front of the vanity table, giving you the most awkward angle, since they decided they wanted to stare into the mirror the entire time. What they were trying to accomplish, you had no idea, but you knew you were playing right into their hands.

In your frustration, you picked up the closest thing to you on the table. Turning it over in your hands, you felt the familiar weight of lipstick.

It would be impossible to put it on from this angle. No matter how much you turned, it would smudge, and you couldn't take it anymore!

You didn't even realy register it happening, but now you've turned their seat so they're facing you, and not the mirror, you're leaning over onto the table, and your hand is holding their chin in place, and you're too close, you're way too close, what are you doing?

N doesn't say anything-- they're frozen in place, in that little 'ah, shit' look they have when they've put themselves in trouble. It's adorable, and you've forgotten why you were irritated in the first place.

"I-- I was trying to distract you," They say it meekly, and you notice how little they're moving. They don't look scared, however-- just nervous.

But the sentence itself is throwing you off. "Distract me? What?"

'I was annoying you because-- when you're annoyed-- you lose focus. And you've been in your head a lot lately." They moved their hand off the chair, over onto your hand, holding the lipstick. "I don't really care if you like me less. But if you're annoyed, at least you're not sad, and that's all I need."

You wanted to laugh. Stupid, stupid N. Sometimes they talked like they had no idea of the consequences... like they didn't know what kind of effect they would have on you.

"I'll be distracted enough if you're there. You don't need to annoy me." And it was true, but you would give anything to just have them there, annoying you.

They let out a non commital noise, but they didn't seem to be paying full attention. Indeed, when you looked at them, they weren't looking into your eyes, but lower.

You followed the trail of their gaze, and felt your lips go dry. You swiped your tongue quickly across them, and saw how N's eyes followed that movement.

Stupid, stupid N. They never thought of the consequences before they did something, did they?

Well, maybe that's why you got along so well with them.

You leaned away from them, removing your hands, and you noticed the brief flicker in their eyes. It could be disappointment, if you had to guess, but it was gone too fast.

Their eyes changed completely, however, when you take the lid off the lipstick, and bring it slowly across your lips. You make sure to put it on evenly, before leaning in again.

"Say, N," The words are slow, deliberate. "Does this shade look any good?"

They draw closer, not one to back off. "Wonderful, really."

Their voice makes you feel strange. Or maybe it's just them-- even if a small thing was changed, if it was N, you think you would still feel this way.

This all consuming feeling. The promise of a challenge. You know you shouldn't rise to these silly words, but you couldn't help it, and you think they knew it.

Of course they knew it.

"Is that so?" Your words come out in a drawled manner, and you can see how it makes them feel. You know you're enticing them as much as they're enticing you. "I think it would look good on you."

Your hand comes up to their chin again, but you tilt it up this time. Your eyes are glued on their lips-- they don't waver.

You're close enough now that your breath fans over their lips, and close enough that you can see how they shiver at the contact.

Should you? Should you cross that line?

Fuck it.

You press your lips onto theirs, slowly and deliberately. You don't give them time to dwell on it, but you made sure you thoroughly spread the colour across their lips.

When you pull back, you know your lipstick is smudged. You can only hope it's as good a look as the one you've given them.

"I was right. This color is perfect for you," Their cheeks are dark with that comment.

Another thought pops into your head. What was it they said earlier? They were trying to distract you?

You could think of another distraction, one that was more fun than a little teasing.

"I missed a spot," You whisper, taking the lipstick to their bottom lip again. As you touched it up, you revelled in the way they tensed at your touch.

Deliberately, however, you dragged the lipstick off the corner of their lip, down their jaw, down to their neck.

"Whoops. How silly of me," You could feel how devillish your smile was, but you knew there was no turning back now. "I'll just have to clean that up."

A sprout of a new, funny feeling-- a promise being delivered on.

#ro prompts #prompts #ro asks #ch: n #n adebayo #nneka adebayo #naasir adebayo #thrill seeker if #sorry it took so long udfsihiuhdsf #writers block. you know how it is :-(#at least I got to write about N... that can fix any bad thing iusdfihufdh

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quinn-tessence · 4 years

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Paint me like one of your French girls

Part 2

This goes out to all the artists in this heart warming Joker community, who still find so much inspiration in our beloved character. Thank you for sharing with us how you see Arthur/Joker through your eyes, your creative vision brings so much joy and comfort through these troubling times! 🙏🤡❤

Summary: you accept Joker's invitation against your better judgement, even after he'd broken into your home and caught you red handed. His rhetoric makes you fall into his degraded sense of civic duty. So does his sly but chivalrous demeanor, a different shade of the Arthur you used to know. You're in for a revelation that seals the deal.

Length: 7k ish, gradual build up

Warnings: a touch of Theodore Twombly, splashes of Arthur and heavy strokes of Joker, mentions of mental conditions, flirty fluff, oh smut, yes, yes, keep readin'

As his scent still lingered, the yellow street lights engulfed the room as you stood naked at the window, facing the portrait you'd painted. Maybe it had only been the light reflecting off its surface, but you could have sworn it was looking right through you.

Did this really happen? You thought to yourself as you stepped down from your high, hoping this had not just been one more of your self induced vivid fantasies. But the flammable cocktail he'd left lingering in your studio was a stark reminder.

Arthur had come at last, even if one year late, but it had been Joker breathing down your neck, intoxicating you with whispers of your most ardent desires. A butterfly in the path of a flame you were, the attraction to him primal, insatiable, frightening. Was this really Arthur? He was surely the Clown Prince of Crime, and that was not something sweet Arthur could have maneuvered while pumping himself full of antidepressants.

‘I'd put my mouth on you’ resounded against your temples, his purring whispers a delicious catalyst for a continuous pulsating sensation throughout the night. 'Cause that's how I imagine you every night' had been the least expected confession, had he lied to just get you hooked, he'd been successful. As you tried to drift away, you'd force yourself to resist the urge and keep yourself untouched for him. Agonizing as that was, how he'd stirred the embers in your mind had made any of your attempts futile. No substitute would do.

Tick, tock. You hadn't heard your bedside clock ticking for years, but today it was thumping, a metronome to steady your breath as you woke. The only sensible action was to take charge and keep yourself busy. He was going to get what he wanted, clearly he had made the alternative impossible with his mischievous schemes. But he had been thinking of you all night as well, and that was one aspect up to be exploited.

A few minutes to 9 PM, a pinup doll you'd never seen before was staring right back at you in the mirror. His spine tingling whispers had made you work on yourself on commission. He had one demand and it was up to you to fill up the rest of the canvas to impress.

The street was empty as you walked out on the dot. Swiftly, 3 SUVs pulled up in front of your alley, and your heart leapt to your throat.

Here comes the devil. Dashing. Elegant. Ravishing in that pristine makeup, green eyes piercing your whole body as he swaggered closer, his body ambling, almost floating on air. Your art made him no justice compared to the original. Any shades of color you might have painted before would pale in comparison to how they contoured him in the flesh, and the makeup uneven, yet always perfect. Smoke fuming from his mouth, his heels screeched the pavement as if to warn you danger is nearing, yet your knees grew weaker with each step he took.

He was… just as slim as you remembered, but somehow a bit taller. Instead of Arthur’s timorous gazes, a devilish smirk crowned his beautiful jawline enough to make you forget even your name. You couldn't help but wonder why the dress as his gaze systematically reduced any fabric covering your skin to irrelevance. The emerald green eyes had already made you whimper in silence, this wasn't going to get any easier.

‘Hi Y/N. Glad you decided to come tonight.’ An eyebrow twitch accompanied his words as a much needed release from hypnosis.

‘Hi, Joker. Not sure if I had a choice in accepting your invitation.’ An unmistakable vibration in your voice immediately made his deep, long dimples contour his well defined face. The sexiest dimples you'd ever seen in a man, you were certain.

‘Of course you did. You had one week to consider, and here you are. I must admit, you are your finest work of art so far. Is all of this for me?’

‘I have a date later and I thought I’d dress to impress. The fella seemed to have some serious intentions.' The thump of your heartbeat could easily be heard by his armed men keeping watch. Thankfully, they minded their business.

‘What a lucky fella. He'd better, or else I know a few guys who can straighten him up'

An eyebrow twitch followed by a tongue in cheek chuckle, he tried to distract your noticing by running a hand through his slick green hair, but his shy gaze fell to his feet. Hi, Arthur…

‘In this case, we'd better be on our way before we get all of us in trouble. A couple precautions before we go. I'll need to wrap this around your eyes to protect the location we're headed to. It'll be a 30 minutes drive. Sadly, I’ll have to jump in another car, for both our protection. If anything happens on the road, I’ll be the main target and my guys are sworn to keep you safe. But we took care of a few things and Gotham should be teeming with crime tonight, enough for us to have a safe journey. Are you ready?’ his hand extended, your primary instincts shameless traitors. As you touched his fingertips, you went all in.

You both hopped into one SUV, his proximity to you nerve wrecking, the warmth of his slender body radiating against your prickled skin. The way he had been staring into your eyes for a few seconds was making you question reality. Shutting your eyes as he wrapped his tie around them didn't help clear the waters.

‘Tell me if it's too tight.’

‘Wouldn't that be the point? Don't untighten it.’

‘Miss Y/L/N... Here you are, blindfolded in the backseat of my SUV, about to drive off with Gotham's most wanted. Knowing your inner circle, I’d have wagered they'd advise you to keep better company. Good thing I’m not a betting man.’

‘Well, a certain gentleman had made a promise last night, if I remember correctly'

‘Indeed he had. I'm not going to hurt you'

‘That was not the promise...' you forced the corners of your mouth to not betray your titillating reaction.

‘Wasn't it?’

An endearing giggle helped cut the tension in your core, but you gently startled at the feel of his fingers caressing your cheek and rushing over your lower lip, the ever present smell of nicotine flooding your nostrils, the lack of eyesight heightening your other senses. Somehow he made this feel like a dream.

‘See you soon'

A 30 minute drive with only the voice of Frank. Thoughtful touch, making you feel close to home even while venturing into a world of batshit crazy. Blindfolding you might have been for protection, but it served another more tantalizing purpose. And processed you did, but not at all did it help with the anxiety. If anything, Joker had poured gasoline on the bonfire he had started the night before.

The cars stopped and the door opened, your hand touched softly, you were descending from the car and carefully directed forward by his arms. You’d been right about his scent, and it drove you mad as he helped you watch your step.

‘Open your eyes'

The venue, a vineyard outside Gotham, with a manor and view of the lake. Breathtakingly elegant and conveniently out of police jurisdiction. A coquette set up on the front terrace in an open space foyer, the breeze rustling the flowers that dangled from it. As beautiful a venue, in reality he was still the center piece of this canvas, the white streaks of makeup, his green hair, the contrasts of his suit, that never ending cigarette. Unethical, dangerous, beautiful. What was he doing to you?

‘Welcome to my summer retreat. Glad you decided to join me, miss Y/L/N.’ He pulled a chair for you, elegantly inviting you to sit.

‘If we’re so intimately acquainted, why are you calling me by my last name?’

‘I like the taste of it on my lips. I like kitten more, but you know, pleasantries and all.’

He'd called you that before. Arthur was there, but Joker was clearly behind that lewd smirk and tantalizing choice of words. Tingles started running up your thighs without warning, in sync with the rhythm of his cues.

‘Pleasantries are for strangers'

‘Oh! Well then. We already see eye to eye' the clicking of glass betrayed a slight tremor in his hands as he poured a little more wine than necessary.

‘Cheers, thank you for having me here. How could I decline the invitation?’

‘I didn't know if you'd accept the invite one year later.’

‘And yet you took the risk'

‘How could I not be intrigued by the artist who paints me as a primary subject? You can imagine my surprise when I found out you were the same Y/N from the pharmacy queue. Why did you move out?’ As gallant as he was, he sure knew how to cut straight to the point.

‘I... I wasn't in a good place, I needed to uproot myself. So I quit the force, moved out, became a full time artist and painted my view of the world. That gives me fulfillment, I had been searching for it in the wrong place, I guess.’

‘Can’t argue with that. Fascinating. Tell me more.’

‘How far back should I go that you don't already know?’ His eyes moved away for a second, then returned with an intensity to freeze one's bones to the core.

‘It would mean so much more if I heard it from your lips rather than my trusted informants’. ’

That sweet white wine was a dangerous catalyst to unleash to him your widest smile, comforted by the verified honesty of his stories and his sharing of turmoil at the world. He'd also been an artist, although his conditions had been a detriment to his success in a comedy career, and support for him nonexistent at best.

You were just as fluent in Arthur's tragic life as he was in your tumultuous one. You’d been reduced to tears in your late nights when processing his fall into madness and how helpless he had been. All alone. That utter feeling of pain and grief had fueled your inspiration through all those months. But now the makeup made him look younger, the furrows of life less visible on his skin, that deep sorrow hidden under a thick layer of overconfidence, and if that was what he wanted to show you tonight, the last thing you'd do was force him otherwise.

A couple hours flew within minutes, the food half nibbled, his elbows on the table, his eyes every shade of the sea amidst a storm, devouring your every twitch as you spoke. Each time you'd meet them, he'd watch you languidly, dissecting your every reaction, the corner of his mouth slowly arching his dimples into existence. You had already sunk deeply in the sight of him chuckling and occasionally strolling his delicate long fingers through his green locks. He was so real and close to the touch, his presence so electrifying, it gave you fever.

And yet he made you feel comfortable. It had been a long time since a man had done so well and so naturally, you had forgotten how sweet the shivers were. And here was Arthur, that once shy, flustering man, igniting fire after fire in your gut with each elegant note of his voice and moves of his slender body. You couldn’t tell if the spark in his eye was his, or a reflection of your flaming self.

‘My turn to share?’

‘Yeah maybe I should stop talking for a while now, sorry, I got a bit carried away.’

‘Nonsense. You're my guest, why would I have brought you here if I didn't want to hear your stories?’

‘Well if you insist, I could think up a few reasons… aaand here I go, I’m so sorry, that was a bad joke, I swear it's the wine speaking…', your hand went straight to your face in a desperate attempt to hide your tipsy embarrassment.

Typical of you to screw this up, atta girl, you thought to yourself, feeling how your cheeks had turned the color of your dress. You weren't lying, the wine had had a woozing effect, but you were drunk on him instead. As you shyly lifted your eyes, a hungry wolf was lurking beneath the painted blue diamonds, eyes as deep as an ocean, eyebrows creasing his forehead in long, deep wrinkles. It wasn't fair how the red razor sharp grin cut through his cheeks like furrows, his crooked teeth exposed enough to make you bite your lip in shame of your sassy comment.

‘That's… one description, but not the one I’d choose… When you come out from under there, I have a surprise for you. Come with me inside for a minute.’

That red dress suddenly shrunk tightly on your chest, the fabric a suffocating shroud for your skin. Guided through the gliding doors, an elegant galley of your work hung against a red brick wall. You felt a knot in your throat, your eyes watering.

‘This part of the house is my little sanctuary. Where I come to spend time with you, with how you see me through your eyes. I started collecting those the minute I felt alive through your art, immortal, legendary. You’re fueling my ego, you know?’

This was more of a shock than a surprise. A shock at your naivety than at his right to purchase your public art. He had kept all your thank you cards, even if you'd thought you'd written them for different clients. He called them your letters. They were to him, and about him, so he found it appropriate. Was this just incredibly romantic, or was it the schizoid paranoia from his official diagnosis?

Right then, the realization finally struck, and it struck with the sound of a thousand church bells between your temples. You’d shared such intimacy with him for months, and he’d been financing your bohemian lifestyle since you’d left the force. This was his big night, just as much as yours, it was clear as you looked into his eyes to see sweet Arthur from the pharmacy line. Yet his shy gaze betrayed anything but an expectation to cash in that cheque. You were ignoring all the red flags again, the rush of emotion rendering you incapable of clear thought.

And yet, your body was yearning to shed its covers and unravel your latest masterpiece to absorb his reaction through every pore, but you gave into your superficially cautious thoughts. As he stood next to you in admiration, he lit a cigarette and passed it over after puffing almost halfway. You’d never thought the sight of red marks on a cigarette would be the catalyst to set you ablaze in your choice of men, but you'd been ironically wrong. The very close presence of this clown felt nothing like fear and anxiety, even more so as he was fidgeting so sweetly. An adorable irrational fear of a possible rejection had kept a never ending cigarette between his lips, and your heart coiled at seeing a painted Arthur before you.

‘I hope you don't mind. If a fire broke out tomorrow I'd save these first. You saw me when I needed to be seen, and the way I needed to be seen. Your art is breathtaking. Nothing humbles me as admiring it.’

You felt as light as a feather as his hand extended once again, and carried you back to the foyer to pour the last glass of wine.

‘I gotta be honest with you, kitten. I’m not an easy guy to be around. My mind is a twisted place, and past treatments were … debilitating, to say the least. Fate took me off those by force, just to feel much better afterwards, ironically. I switched my treatment for a couple conditions in the meantime. You see, having difficulty distinguishing reality from imagination could be quite inconvenient in my line of business. Else, I'd be back in Arkham by now.’

For a deranged criminal, he was exquisitely refined. His posture, his attire, the cigarette between his fingers were radioactive. This deceitfully feeble man had once bashed in the brains of a man twice his size with a pair of scissors and a wall, the police records had been detailed enough to make your stomach churn. His slim, delicate body was a dangerous trap for those who questioned his ferocity and agility coupled with his multiple mental conditions. The 3 Wall Street guys had had no idea what a catalyst they were about to be. And yet, here he was. Delicate and gentle, maybe even vulnerable.

‘Back? Why back?’ you asked despite knowing every little detail.

‘Not an easily digestible subject, I’m sure you'd agree. That's a conversation for another time, but here I am, flesh and blood, thinking as clearly as daybreak. In most aspects.’

That wine must have had no effect on him, as he continued to control the conversation, steering it with refinement, clearly more cautious than yourself.

‘What aspects are not clear?’

‘Is this an interrogation, kitten?’ his wide gaze from under long eyelashes coupled with the pet name off his lips were utterly debilitating.

‘Not at all, I am intrigued. Please tell me more'

‘If the lady insists. What’s unclear? Well some minor details. Like my future, my life, the next target, evading the police, you.’ His emeralds confidently strolled along the lines of your face, particularly the curve of your lips. Not at all distracting.

‘I can understand the others, but me?’

‘You see me for who I want to be. I’m not always Joker, that's for my men, my criminal nightlife. You knew me before all this, and you paint that man wearing this Joker outfit. Sometimes I wish it were so, but most times I am convinced that it must be otherwise.’

He swallowed hard and emptied his glass.

‘So you see how your artistic depiction of me is what I want to see when I look in the mirror, not what they say on TV. It's kept me from going too far, it gives me a level of restraint that this Joker makeup laughs at, and I really prefer that to any straight jacket. I like this new man I’ve become, but I can't allow him to overwhelm the old me. Whomever that was.’

As he spoke, there was a sweet sadness to his voice that proceeded to melt you from the inside, furthering the utterly irresponsible, delicious plunge. He was forcing himself to smile even through the most painful truths, like a tic developed through years of practice, but his voice faltered here and there, trying to stifle his bouncing knee. All you wanted was to cup his cheek and caress him through the anxiety that had been crippling the body of both his whole life. He reached out for another cigarette before you could fulfill that thought.

‘I… am flattered, to say the least. I wasn't sure what to expect of tonight, but I will have another glass of wine, please. If there's any left in this beautiful vineyard.’

‘Coming right up!’

He danced nimbly into the kitchen, Sinatra serenading an audience of hanging grapes and the two of you.

Impressed was an understatement. Where was that psychopathic, vicious killer clown that all the headlines had been about for the past year, that your friends had tried to warn you of? Joker had been a gentleman so far, none of his known crimes had tainted that opinion of him, not even Murray to be quite frank. He wasn't half as ruthless as he had been demonized to be. How he spoke so caringly about his men, they were not just his goons, he trusted them, and they trusted him. This didn't make your coming here any wiser, not in the eyes of society. But your mind was already made up.

He soon returned with a new bottle, poured a glass and extended his hand.

‘Voulez vous danser avec moi, mademoiselle?’ That pristine makeup and red suit molded him into the most alluring devil coming to claim you. Speaking in French had sealed the deal.

‘Biensur, monsieur.’

Strolling you across the terrace on The Way You Look Tonight, leaning you onto his chest, his palm on the small of your back, gently intrusive. The warmth of his body engulfed yours, his cheek on your temple, he had you craving for a heavy dose. He was such a good dancer, you felt like a feather in his delicate arms as he turned you a few times then leaned you backwards to lift your thigh in a shy attempt to test your responsiveness. The innocence of his smile quickly altered into curiosity as his fingers brushed over your garter. A glimmering spark coated his devilish eyes and an eyebrow twitch marked the epitome of nonverbal cues.

‘Where did you learn French?’

‘From old movies on the telly. Unfortunately, my extensive knowledge of French will end here. I'd always fall asleep through the romantic dancing, so I don't know what comes next.’

‘What a terrible waste of a beautiful evening that would be…’

‘It would… But I've also prepared for tonight, kitten, in many ways.’ You whirled at his directive once again.

‘You did indeed. I appreciate the effort.’

‘Hah, I’m sure you do…' he chuckled to himself mischievously. 'I know I am putting you in an awfully strange position by being here and showing you all this. I'd like to know you're comfortable, all things considered. I wouldn't want to overwhelm you.’

‘Yes, how thoughtful indeed. Especially after how you left me last night.’

‘Ohhh yes, I did that, didn’t I?’

‘My dating rulebook had a few pages torn out, so I had to skip a couple chapters in my preparation. Perhaps you could fill me in on the content of those missing pages…’

He hadn't expected you to make the first move, the surprise in his eyes at seeing you instinctively biting your lip was palpable, but the tension in your core had overstepped any boundaries.

‘… I wouldn't want to drag you down. I'll catch up. What page are you on right now?’

As you spoke, you were dancing him inside the mansion, towards the main art room. Tantalizing him, your lips grazing over his, locking eye contact intensely, then shying away. His intrigue at your little game etched a smirk across his face, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your waist, very gently contouring the girdle holding your stockings.

‘I have an advanced edition. The page that cautions against wearing lace for a long time.’

‘Lace?… oh. Ohhh! I see! Yeah, I remember that. In the missing pages, they strongly advised removing all other clothes for easier access to the lace…'

Your back sensually turned to him, his fingers lowered your back zipper, the feel of burning wet lips on your neck snatched a deep moan from yours as a hum vibrated against your ear. In a swift second, you were in his arms being carried in front of his gallery, and as soon as the stilettos touched the ground, your dress was framing your ankles at his careful directive.

‘Oh... The advanced edition must have a copy of my journal in the writers' room’ his eyes gleaming, he took a step back to revel in the sight of his freshly lace garnished gallery.

‘Not really. Seeing how you wrapped me up in a tight bow, I found another way of adding a… touch… of myself.’

A wide grin across his face, he was visibly panting. His hands straight to the top of his teal shirt in a desperate attempt to get some fresh air. The light emanated from the frames of his portraits contoured your body as he approached with careful steps, as if a predator stalked its prey, strolling hungry eyes all over your curves.

‘And here I was, thinking I’d seen the best of you yesterday. Look at you… you're worth every damn risk in the book. Tell me, have you been a good girl last night?’

He slowly ascended the 3 steps leading to the art wall where you stood in your unholy red lace lingerie, stockings hanging from your girdle insolently. Your pedestal, that was. Colin was right, reality beats fiction every god damn time. If he only knew.

‘I clearly haven't. I should have called the cops on you. Yet you break in and rake me up with your mischievous whispers, you make me dress up for you and bring me here, to all this, and then claim you don't want to overwhelm me. You're acting like a gentleman but you're really a sneaky bastard, aren't you?’

Shamefully you put all the blame for your descent into his madness on him, as if you’d taken no part in this tantalizing game. In his ascent, he had gained the advantage right back, towering over you in all his colorful splendor. In that very moment, he knew you were his. The corners of his mouth arched so intensely that no amount of makeup could cover Arthur's arousing wrinkles any longer. He knew very well that he was the devil coming to claim what was his, and his gentle demeanor had shifted drastically to reflect that and scorch you. His inquisitive eyes onto the soft edges of the red brassiere, his tongue strolling over his lips lusciously, you were soon humming to yourself.

‘I… I am about to fuck you into next month. I hope you cancelled your plans, pussycat.’

His bluntness made it clear that Arthur had left you at the mercy of this clown, yet every atom of your body craved him.

‘How gallant… What about your criminal activities?’

‘I'm taking a small vacation. My men will shake things up enough to keep your buddies doing overtime. As for being a gentleman, I’m done with that for tonight.’

‘What if I say no?’

‘I made sure you wouldn't do that last night’

The moment you felt his ragged breath against your skin, you melted away in his arms, like gold in a fire pit. You gave in completely to his hungry lips trembling as he kissed you, his whole body as tense as a string, savoring you with heavy gulps. The intensity of his grip, the weight of his body, the shivers in his flesh betrayed the end of a painful anticipation that he'd yearned for. The bitterness of his makeup was the first shock, the second was his body weight heavy against you, the third the most unnerving, ohhh la la! If one lit a match you'd both combust in flames.

‘How about we skip the pleasantries, mm?’ he whispered in between heavy gulps of you, far from asking for permission.

The taste of his mouth, a mélange of cigarettes, wine, bitter makeup, each flavor made your limits become optional. Lace was suddenly no longer a threat for your breasts, as his fingers bared your chest for his delight, quickly followed by his painted thin lips. Something about him made you feel like a dangerous woman. Devouring you whole, shoulders, neck, breasts, his makeup brushed faded color tracing his steps, little moans escaping his throat at the taste of your skin. To your left, a full gallery of your ardent attempts to bring him back. You’d been afraid for so long to articulate your feelings for him even to yourself, always denying the possible realization of this moment. But his warm tongue strolling along your navel was a check mate to your insecurities, and now your body was his canvas, painting you in shades of Joker.

As he got on his knees, you felt yours would weaken in an instant, the heels of your stilettos working their way to penetrate yours.

‘I think we should take the advice in the rulebook and avoid exposure to lace for too long, don't you?’ his nimble fingers removed the lace panties and his tongue invaded your core before you could object. As if.

Fuck yesss… you exhaled a touch too loudly.

‘Oh dear, where are your manners, young lady?’ as if he wasn't speaking with a mouthful.

The sight of his green hair falling over the red jacket, his wide eyes pinned on yours, his mouth gobbling at you had been your usual suspects for the past year. But you'd imagined Arthur under the makeup, and these darkened eyes betrayed another beast altogether, a hungry, voracious beast. A surprisingly crafty one, within seconds he'd made you purr uncontrollably.

An outpour of sensation washed over you, body and mind together feeling so sensual and wanted, he was controlling your body with his tongue even as he knelt before you. You’d been intoxicated by the smell of cologne, cigarette and faint gasoline, your finger tips tracing the freshly applied white makeup and green dye on his temples. Soon enough, the slick bastard was maneuvering your clit, exposing and tasting it to his own pleasure. For a second, he moaned as he lost himself in your folds, the sounds of him enjoying what he was doing to you made you pulsate on his tongue. He'd rattled you down to your heels, you were panting so hard you were afraid you would tumble.

‘Joker… I’m gonna fall…’

‘Now now… let me finish this first, then you can fall for me, kitten.’

It hadn't even crossed your mind to make that connection, but you were once again red-handed. You couldn't help but let out a silly school girl giggle as he got up and lifted you in his arms, so much stronger than his slim complexion let see, carrying you to the large sofa, gently laying you in a corner.

‘Is this better?’

Your eyes the size of two full moons, you nodded.

‘Keep those devils on, will you?’ winking at the red soles of the Louboutins you'd chosen for the occasion. You nodded once more with beggar eyes.

‘The taste of you… mmm how I’ve yearned for it… I wasn't joking about your cancelled plans. Don't say you weren't warned' he whispered as he kissed you, his taste and yours mingled on his lips were an aphrodisiac. You nodded obediently one last time.

Kneeling once again between your thighs, he proceeded to unbutton his vest, then his shirt, yet maintaining eye contact. Damn, that new treatment must have been making miracles. You had never been intimate with Arthur before, but you couldn't miss that it was Joker in between your thighs. You’d be shamelessly lying if you said you didn't want him to take you just like this, a painted, deranged clown that had been stalking you for months, the danger an essential part of the thrill.

As he bared his chest, a deep purple covered part of his left ribcage underneath the teal shirt, his nightlife trade in violence etched onto his body, causing you to frown with genuine concern. That must have been why he seemed to flinch and change course at the thought of baring his body to you. In his own time.

You trembled as his warm breath spread over your clit, sinking his tongue in whatever he'd made of you already. The intense eye contact would be enough stimulant to answer your burning curiosities, but he had his to satisfy. Savoring each slurp, he was masterfully tensing you up like a guitar string ready to pop at the next twirl, and those diamonds around his eyes only served to plunge you into the ferocity of his curious gazes. You were a ball of ache to feel his flesh slither inside you, tongue, fingers, cock. The thirst you’d felt for him for so long was strikingly visible in your quivering body and four octave moans, his palms strolling across the red lace all the way up to your breasts. How insatiable he was in his exploration, each touch a stronger confirmation that you were really, finally his.

A soft stroke of his tongue over his lips yanked you out of any distraction, an uncontrolled twitch of your knees betraying a futile instinct of self preservation. Your reflexes had been off by around a year, though. You whined and moaned and shivered under his velvet lips as he strolled them down your breasts, your ribs, your belly button, feeling the jolts in your body and reveling in them as he hummed. Each kiss he carefully peppered onto your prickled skin sent you into a maddening spiral, your core a backdraft aching for him to extinguish. How ironic. You had grown up petrified of those nightmares of a dreadful clown chasing you down to eat you whole. Who would have thought these terrors would develop into consuming yearnings 20 years later?

The high that came with his virtuosity made the fabric of reality feel hazy, your fingers tangled in his green hair an anchor to the real world, where it seemed as if your body had been designed for him to unlock. With each feathery stroke he'd have you yearning for more, contorting in lust as he tasted you for his own pleasure. Your fingers on his white temple, he seemed intrigued by the beggar look staring right at him, so he buried his tongue deeper.

‘This tastes exactly how I imagined it…’

This hungry wolf kept on controlling your whole body through his tongue, slurping each drop of pleasure he brought. The narcissist in him was feeding off each reaction he ignited, reveling in the fact that he was the cause of all this hot mess, and you were falling like rain on a scorching mid summer day.

‘You rascal... Is this your MO, you threaten your prey 24 hours before the inevitable?’

‘I usually take ‘em by surprise'

Fire and ice collided in your core into an outwash of sensation and your eyes drowned in the back of your head as he gentry filled you up with one finger ‘Ohh… right there…’. It was too much to bear as his tongue played with your flushed bud and his finger stroke at your deepest well of intense pleasure. Never would you have thought Arthur capable of pleasuring a woman so exquisitely, but here he was, proving you wrong in the most delicious way you'd never imagined.

He was an artist after all, a nimble dancer who was born with music in his veins. And what is dancing than making love set to music? How he constantly drained you of every drop of pleasure with his skillful tongue, as if he'd finally found his vocation. The tenderness of his touches betrayed a long lasting want for you in his arms, a haunting want that he'd finally captured and was now close enough to taste.

‘Oh God, this is too good, please keep going' your voice had turned into beseeching cries.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, please…’

‘Mmm… Right here?’

‘Y… yes… don't stop please', the words poured out as if coming from the sweetest place of ecstasy, the beggar look and pulsating muscles a dead giveaway.

‘Come for me, pussycat, and look at me as you do...’

His command to come for him tipped you off the edge instantly, he had released the hold on the leaning rollercoaster, his tongue twirling and stroking your flushed bud. His piercing eyes gleamed as your skin went aflame and you combusted in his mouth harder than you’d ever had before. Your mind was devoid of thought as you let yourself sink into his fervent caresses. He held you down as you bucked and convulsed in blissful agony pinned onto his finger, he sank his nose and tongue into your cunt, prideful for making you come so soon. You felt flushed, ravaged, trembling from all joints, your eyes in the back of your head unable to contain their fluttering any longer. His starved frenzy had eased into careful strokes with a soft tongue, comforting you through the dwindling climax.

‘Whoa, hello there, pussycat… how I love hearing you purr like this for me’

He climbed up to you gently, the widest, proudest grin imaginable etched on his face as he smacked his lips. The lower half was smudged enough for his mouth to be visible under a glistening coat of you, and there it was. The scar that you'd specifically left out of the composite sketch. It was very old, a part of him, his face branded uniquely. As much as the clown costume spewed fire down your spine, you so badly wanted to see Arthur without it once again.

‘Joker…’

‘Yeah?’

‘I'm gonna…’

‘Come again?’

His nimble fingers were skillfully riding you fast towards another orgasm, your core still highly sensitive after your first one.

‘That's it kitten, give this joker what he wants. You're so damn beautiful, I want all of you'

His savory whispers lifted you to your peak, then his lips kissed you through your implosive ecstasy as your whole body quivered under his. The taste of you on his lips should be his new cologne from then on. After he’d seeded those thoughts the night before, it wasn't at all surprising how your body overreacted to his touches. Murmuring softly in your ear, he slowly released the grip as you descended from the second high. Your palms caressed his jawline, the feel of paint covering his skin a contradiction you'd never felt before. But here he was, teaching you what you didn't know how.

‘There there, I’ll let go now'

‘No, don't, please. Give me more…' You begged, commanding respect as the highly virtuous, dignified lady you were in that moment.

His smile as wide as on Christmas morning, his eyebrows raised, a chuckle exulting his whole body, he clearly hadn't expected that reaction so soon. Cat's out of the bag now.

‘Well well well… Look at you beg!'

‘I didn't beg…!'

‘But you will'

You should have known better than falling into that again, but you were too distracted with unbuttoning his red pants and finding the real culprit for your sleepless nights. If you'd known Joker from so many accounts, this had not been in any police record. But boy, it should have been, you wouldn't have thinned your art exhibitions to avoid being found, what a ridiculous thing to do!

With a swift motion, he was already in between your thighs. Lowering his white briefs and positioning himself at your glistening entrance, he was massaging with the tip, testing your sensitivity. This surely wasn't the same gallant gentleman who'd wooed you so far, this was another animal who was toying with his food, and you had willingly stepped into his lair.

‘Is that a threat or a promise?’

His eyes squinted in the dim light, a smug smile to his ears and your whole body jolted at the feel of him entering you all the way down, groaning with eyes in the back of his head.

‘Knowing me, what’s the difference?’

You molded so well on him as he filled you up and some more, his arms locking you down for his pleasure. Careful and gentle at first, his knees deep in the couch the more he'd bury himself into you, his face immersed in your hair gulping your scent, his tongue nibbling your ear.

‘And now I’m inside you. All the way inside you', his hand caressing your jawline, shyly brushing over your gaping mouth before kissing you.

Releasing yourself to him had been the epitome of the most ardent desires clawing out of you progressively. You‘d craved each and every word he was whispering in your ear as he was having you. His size filled you all the way in, you must have been molded to him or else you could not fathom how you'd never felt so awash as you did with Joker. He was going there, working exquisitely to get his little prize again, and it was terrifying how familiar he had become with your sweet spot in under an hour. Perhaps you'd anticipated this moment for months on end that his slightest touch would just keep you hooked in a state of blissful tension. His slim body felt heavy over you, his sharp pelvis bones grinding against your inner thighs, his protruding ribs over yours.

And yet he was so beautiful, no other man had ever awakened such riveting feelings inside your gut so effortlessly. The amount of torment this man had felt throughout his life, and yet he was still capable of making you feel such heart warming bliss in his arms. As he'd wrapped you around him tight, his palm on your cheek, his forehead to yours, it was clear you weren't just tonight's fuck. He had longed for you, and you were finally his. And his you were.

‘I'd asked myself so many times why you kept painting me, and what would you think about when you did that… Am I on the right track?’

You were a broken record of enticing approvals, your mind and body in ecstatic agony. This was not the same man from Pogo's Comedy Club, or the same man on the police car for that matter. This man was phlegmatic, charismatic and gallant enough to be a dirty flirt, and so goddamn dashing in his suit and makeup. Everything about him was such a contradiction it was driving you rabid.

Getting plowed you screamed and panted heavily, your core soaking him whole. His strokes were taking you to the edge, had they been delicate so far, now they were progressively vicious as he heard you whimper. Your mind was a sweet void, a deep abyss of shivers and tingles shrouding you in free fall, your dry lips pleading him to keep going.

As he bit his lips, his facial features turned aggressive, his eyes dark with lust. You moaned as he laid you down and fucked you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot rhythmically, your cries fuel to his ego. The sneaky bastard was grinning at the sight of his kitten crumbling under his pleasure, so damn proud of himself.

‘You've been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?’

Your five senses were invaded by his forehead sweaty onto yours, his eyes a hypnotizing flood of green murky waters, the smell of ammonia and cigarettes filling your nostrils, his husky voice whispering softly as his cock rummaged your sweet spot.

‘You want to be my precious little slut doll, don't you? Come for me.’

Oh god… a new set of pleasure waves rushed through your flesh progressively. Something about the way he cursed sent you into a spiral, how it tipped you over into another outpour of muscle spasms. Under tight grips, he fucked you the way you needed to be fucked, fast and hard, without a pinch of mercy, his cock growing stronger under your spastic contractions, Arthur must have left the building completely. You slowly shed every ounce of ecstasy as he trailed his eyes down your body, his breath ragged, his voice purring little silent curses.

You're here, really here, you're mine, all mine, his voice whispered right before his sea green eyes disappeared in the back of his head and you felt a strong throb rushing through you as he spilled himself into you, shuddering, panting, gasping for air. His moans in pleasure were an aphrodisiac you’d never believed you'd get a taste of. But here it was, and all you wanted was to savor it at your discretion again and again.

As he descended from his high, his body felt heavy and his heart galloped against your chest, yet his lips still lingered on your skin, peppering it with red traces of himself. Joker had ousted the whole world from your senses, leaving only himself under your skin, his embrace the safest shelter for both.

‘If you only knew…’ he whispered as he lay his face to rest in the nuzzle of your neck ‘… just how many times I’ve played this in my head, kitten… If there's one good thing out of my condition, it's that my imagination can be blissfully vivid.’ His fingers deciphered your face gently, grabbling the warmth of the skin. ‘But every time I’d wake hopeful, you weren't there. And that's when it was most cruel and bitter…’The faltering of his voice played the piano tiles of an innocent, tormented concerto that filled the room despite the windy night.

‘But I am here now, Arthur'

‘You are… yes, you are…’

The sweetness of his soft lips deliciously covering your face until reaching your mouth, he'd been right when predicting your fall for him, and what a rhapsodic fall he'd triggered. The silence of his tight embrace said more than you'd ever dared hope for, but a playful hum lingered in his throat as the words murmured indelibly.

Someday when I’m awfully low, when the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight

His husky voice gave you shivery prickles, and a chuckle escaped you remembering the direction of Sinatra's lyrics, what a master of anticipation Arthur had become.

*Knock knock*

Arthur's voice froze in an instant, your heart almost bursting into his palm, he placed a finger over your lips to shush you.

A voice with a British accent apologized for the intrusion and set your mind at ease, but had clearly set Arthur on edge. By his puzzled reaction, he had meant his promise of a vacation and an interruption couldn't be a good omen.

‘Ahhhh shit, Gary! He wouldn't bother unless it was important. Stay here, kitten, I'll be right back. COMING!'

Untangling himself from you proved difficult for both as he kissed your lips one last time while tucking himself back into his pants. You'd covered half your face with the first pillow to stifle your giggles as he stumbled putting his shoes on, seemingly willing to greet Gary with his lower face smudged in a most decadent mixture of you both.

‘Arthur… that suit won't cover the lower half of your face, you know?’

An eyebrow twitch stopped him in his haste to ponder at your hint, the realization of it spreading a most endearing smile of the night onto his face. Your heart coiled at his complicit chuckle of needing to put Joker back on as he'd forgotten him for a second.

Two minutes later he bowed gracefully, his makeup shamefully half applied over the initial mess.

‘Gary's my best man, he's seen worse of me. But what’s a valiant knight to do if not protect his sweet damsel's virtue?’

A wink and a quick peck on the lips, so comfortingly as if you'd known each other for ages, and off he went.

As he will, undoubtedly…

#joker #joker x reader #arthur fleck #Joaquin Phoenix #joker fanfiction #joker fanfic #joker x y/n #joker x you #joker joaquin phoenix #arthur x you #arthur x reader

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harleenfleck · 4 years

Text

“Don’t forget me” (Part. 1)

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader fic

Summary: you’re one of the few female clowns who working in Ha-ha’s, over time, you made a nice friendship with Arthur, and at the same time, you began to be very attracted to him, but you never had the valor and courage to confess your feelings. The things get complicated when he gets fired of the job and you knew nothing about him until the death of his mother. Being convinced by Randall and Gary, you three plan going to visit Arthur.

Warnings: No one in this one, maybe sexist language from one of the characters, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Words: 4.6k

A/N: Well, lasts days I watched “Joker” for the nth time and this idea was like a seed flowering in my head when I see the Randall’s Death Scene. I change some details of the movie, but I really had too much creativity in this story that I had to get carried away with. The lyrics to the song "Night Mime" by Melanie Martinez inspired me very much, actually, the name "Night Mime" appears in the story ✨🌌

In fact, the story was going to be a One-Shot, but Tumblr said no 🙄 because it was on the limit of words, so I decided to do it in 2 parts, even though my heart is asking me to do a third part.

I’m sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my native language.

I hope you like it!

...

Running, you’re late, and you don’t want be late in the work. You ran upstairs and take a big breath when you punch in the time clock.

You came to your job at Ha-ha's, a clown agency in Gotham, you really loved your job, you loved dressing up, putting on wigs, put exaggerate and shining makeup in your face and making people laugh, especially kids, made some balloons for them, dances and giving littles jokes with your magic wand.

“I can’t feel my legs” You whispered to yourself, and coughing too. You really got tired.

“What did a lady like you last night who can’t feel her legs?”

You heard a masculine laugh, you frowned.

That motherfucker, Randall, he was one of the horrible things in that beloved place. Randall was a man who disgust you. Repulsive, misogynistic and unfriendly. It seemed that everything inside him was on his outside too.

You almost returned the insult but someone interrupted you.

“What is wrong with you Randall?! She’s a lady! Leave her alone!”

Oh, one of your friends in Ha-has, Gary, that great guy, he’s was so nice with everyone here, especially with the few women who working in Chuckle Town, that’s how Randall referred to work sometimes.

“Thank you, Gary, you’re really a real man in this place, so respectful, a real gentleman. Others should learn from you”

Randall breathed a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a joke Y/N! Tiffany, the redhead clown, you know her? Well, she laughs a lot with my jokes, why you don’t-”

“Because I’m not Tiffany! And I don’t like your fucking jokes! You always-”

“Hey, hey, calm down!” Oh no, Hoyt, your boss, appeared “Can you two please leave this stupid conversation? Always you two fight for bullshit”

“Boss, I’m sorry, it was Randall’s fault, he always says disgusting things to me and the others women!”

“Please Y/N! Why you don’t go to prepare for the show of today? I remember you Night Mime will go a Birthday Party Today”

Night Mime was your clown name in the job, Night Mine is the clown you played in every show you gave.

“Yeah, sorry, I forget that. I’m so sorry” Don’t want to disturbed the place, you decide to shut up your own mouth. Maybe Randall won this battle, but definitely not the war.

You go to your locker, looking for your make up and your wig, when Hoyt called you again. “Oh, by the way Y/N, Carnival will accompany Night Mime today”

You stayed mute to that words.

“Carnival will accompany Night Mime today?” You asked again, but more timidly.

“Yeah, when he comes, I’ll tell him”.

“O-Okay…”

Everyone (Except Gary) mocked about that. You turned around quickly, because you blushed instantly.

Carnival will accompany Night Mime, which meant Arthur Fleck would be with you. Your heart beat so quickly. And you don’t feel your legs again.

When Hoyt leaves, some began to mock the situation.

“You heard that shit? Arthur surely will think he'll have a date with Y/N” a laugh you can heard. You get so annoyed and you wanted to punch their faces of that idiots who made fun with him.

What’s the fucking problem with Arthur? He's not like one of the other idiots here, he's different, so different from everyone

You thought, cause that’s the true. You don’t understand why everyone were so mean with Arthur. He was just a man who have a strange condition, but that it’s not his fault. Maybe him don’t have a lot of money, but nobody in Ha-Ha’s were rich. He was just a boy with bad luck.

When you choosing what wig wanted to use for the show, you heard the time clock. Turned your head, you looked at him.

Arthur was there, with his bag, his dark yellow jacket and his green eyes. His beautiful eyes.

Blushed again, you moved your head again to the wigs. When you started to work in Ha-ha’s, you met every clown, one by one. When was the turn of present you to Arthur, you were so fascinated with him, you don’t meet nobody like him before. And you wanted to start a friendship with him.

But it was harder than you expected.

Arthur was so shy, reserved, barely talking to his male coworkers, especially Gary and Randall, never with women, maybe a "Good morning" or "Hello," but only that. You saw how he related to others, but from your position, you noticed that Arthur's friendship with Randall was unwholesome. He always made fun of him, so was the joke, you noticed that something inside Arthur it became uncomfortable.

You came to him slowly, sometimes you would come and say "Good morning, Arthur", which sometimes left him amazed, he didn't expect anyone else to remember his name. You remembered his name, why would you remember him? Arthur wanted to get excited, but he knew you weren't interested in him.

Or that’s what he thought.

One day, you said something nice to him about his hair, but that make he exploded in laughs. You thought he was mocked of you, but when he passed you a little card and you read that little card, your heart broke.

“I’m so sorry Arthur, I don’t want to be rude with-“

“It’s- It’s… O… Oka…”

He still laughs, and you, without experience in that cases, you hugged him and massaging his back. That was the first and last hug you shared. Arthur for a moment he felted safe, he felted confidence, and he return the hug. This could have made you two closers, made a pretty friendship.

If Randall hadn't opened his mouth:

“Hey Artie, Is she your new girlfriend? The lady Y/N have an expensive taste, I don’t think you can give her what she wants”

That was the first time Randall disrespected you. You were speechless because you didn’t expect it from him. And Arthur felt so insecure back, he doesn’t laugh again, but he apart to you, ashamed. He didn't want them to think you were his girlfriend, because he didn't want them to mess with you like they did with him.

And now, he tried to avoid you. That sometimes hurt your feelings. And felted some stupid, you started to feel attracted to him. You don’t want a friendship anymore; you want to be the girlfriend of Arthur Fleck.

But now, that’s was impossible.

Thank you, Randall, thank you for ruining everything".

“Hey Arthur” The voice of Gary sends you to the present again “Hoyt wants to see you in his office, he has a job for you today”

“Uh?” you heard a deep breath of Arthur and his steps to the office. You looked everyone, and they started try to mocked in silence.

You can’t hold it more.

“What’s so fucking funny?” You talked, almost screamed to them. They thought you were angry for share with Arthur your afternoon and job. You were really angry at them for making fun of him.

When Arthur backs, you were so nervous, you wanted to see him, but you were very shy for do it.

“H-Hello Y/N”

His voice, he called you.

Your heart beat like it had a life of it's own. “Hi Arthur! How are you today?”

“Eh… Fine, I think I’m fine, thank you…A-and you?”

You could notice he was very nervous. You didn't know if he still wanted to avoid you or he was just more shy than usual. Maybe he was ashamed to have to interact with you after he took you away from him himself.

It didn't matter, you'd forgive him. It didn't matter what he did.

“Fine too, thank you Arthur. So, Hoyt tell you about the job of today?”

“Y-yeah, a birthday party”

“C’mon Arthur, sit with me, don’t be shy” Arthur was discussed with himself whether he should do it or not. Then he scolded himself, you were being kind to him, he should reciprocate you. He sat with you, shyly. “So, Arthur, you worked with a partner before?”

“N-no…”

“Oh… Well, there’s always a first time, I’m so glad to work with you today, we gonna be a great team you and me”

The enthusiasm you radiated left Arthur delighted, why did he try to avoid you all this time? You were very kind to him, he had to be thankful.

“I hope so… I-I have a pair of ideas f-for the show”

“Really? Tell me Arthur”

You and him spent at least two hours preparing the show, perfecting it. The others at Ha-ha's, who waited a moment to mock him, just got tired of waiting. Even one who else realized you two made a good duo.

After prepared the show, it was the time to convert you in Carnival and Night Mime. You put on a purple jumper with a yellow blouse, big black and golden clown shoes and white gloves. You decide to use a two colors wig, turquoise and black, with a purple beret. Arthur get prepared for convert in Carnival too. He put his clown make up and his very cute clown suit.

You don’t have idea how to use your makeup today. Arthur noticed that, and he confused it a little.

“You don’t have one only make-up?”

You refused, making noises with your throat “I always change my makeup, but I don’t have inspiration today…”

“C-can I help you with y-your makeup?”

He really does it for you? You felted you going to melt for his tenderness.

“…That’s sounds great Arthur! Please, just don’t make me ugly”

“That’s impossible…” He whispered, but you heard him anyway. Blushed again.

Arthur started to makeup your face, something like the Carnival’s makeup but in pastel colors, more feminine and putting a heart in your nose instead a circle.

“That’s so beautiful Arthur!” You said very happy as you looked at yourself with your little mirror.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it!”

“Thank you, Y/N ...”

“No, thank you Arthur… Well, let’s go, it’s show time!”

You two advised Hoyt of your parting and went to the birthday party. It was the party of a little boy who would be 8 years old. The party wouldn't have been the same without the clowns. They cheered the place, told jokes that made even the adults laugh, played with the kids, Night Mime gave to the children a mime show, Carnival inflated balloons and made animals of those balloons, and finally Night Mime danced a song from Carnival's Ukulele.

When the party was over and they got their paycheck, you thought you'd invite Arthur to dinner at a coffee shop.

“I told you Arthur! That was amazing!” You almost cried to Arthur; he only could smile. You thought how unique two clowns should look in a coffee shop eating desserts and drinking sodas.

“Yeah, you’re right Y/N… I, I really like to work with you”

“Me too! Carnival and Night Mime really like each other, I hope they work together again”

“I hope it too…” Arthur drink to his soda. You looked him again. How you thanked to Hoyt for giving you the "penalty" to work with Arthur, you enjoyed every second.

“Arthur”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“You think we just… Mmhh…”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to go to eat again with me?”

Arthur blinked to make sure it wasn't a joke you were telling him. Were you asking him to both come out again? Arthur could only feel that the butterflies in his stomach fluttered uncontrolled.

“Oh… Y/N, I, I love it, I love spend the time with you”

Arthur realized that maybe the following words he said would be misunderstood. Maybe you'd misunderstand him and get mad with him, maybe you'd be so angry that you'd leave him alone there.

But instead, you smiled at him.

“Arthur. Yeah, we must to go out again. Maybe the cinema next time?”

“Sure, I love movies”

Arthur smiled, were you asking him out on a date? Wait, you two were dating as a couple or friends? He chases the second option; it was the most probability.

And so, that’s was your plan, but at first only. You wanted things to be slowly given. You wanted him to succumb too to the same feelings you were trapped in.

But he was already trapped in those feelings too, but he was less brave.

…

The days went too fast, maybe it was already weeks, or months, but you and Arthur were best friends. Gradually you knew better that man in a yellow jacket who had the noblest soul in the world, knew his flaws, his qualities, every little detail of him in his life. And you also let him into your life, he would soon know what your favorite perfume was and that one of your favorite flowers was lilies.

Your feelings also increased too much; you felt your heart inflated as much as a balloon when you saw him, that one of those day you would fly out the window.

Arthur felt the same way about you. He loved the scent of your hair, the color of your eyes, your joy, your spontaneity. Even inside his mind he played that Carnival was in love with Night Mime too.

But again, his insecurities assured him that all those games were absurd, that you were his friend. You only saw him that way. He was said to himself you would find someone special soon, and that he should let you be happy with that someone.

But soon, things were going to change, and very badly.

One day, an animated Arthur told you he was going to a job at a music store, you wished him luck and enjoyed the show. When you were in your apartment, eating a couple of cookies, the phone was ringing. You ran to it and responded, it was Arthur, crying.

“Honey! What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I-I got jumped Y/N, I got jumped for a bunch of kids…” His broken voice make you cry too. But you did it in silence, just for not worry him “It’s so stupid…”

“No Artie, that’s not stupid. Are you in home? You don’t wanna I go to your apartment?”

“No Y/N, it’s late, I don’t want you get assault too. W-we can talk about it tomorrow in the work”

“Okay darling… Are you okay, Artie? They didn’t hurt you?”

“…No, don’t worry for me, I’m fine…”

“Artie, I’m so sorry to hear this… Don’t worry, you can tell me everything tomorrow, right?”

“Right… Hey Y/N… Thank you, thank you so much for be my friend…”

You wiped your tear from your cheek. You talked a little more on the phone until he said the dream was beating him. You knew how bad Arthur was financially, you counted your bucks, and fortunately you had extra money. You could help Arthur with that.

…

“Randall… I’m not supposed to have a gun”

Randall had given Arthur a gun, under the pretext that he could defend himself a little.

“Don’t sweat it, Art. No one has to know, and you can pay me back some other time. You know you’re my boy”

Arthur saw the gun inside the paper bag again. He started laughing nervously. Maybe Randall was right, maybe he needed something like that to defend himself against those who wanted to hurt him.

“Hey Arthur, another thing. Don’t tell about this to your friend, Y/N”

Arthur, who was smiling, stopped doing it when Randall asked him that. “Why not?”

“…Because she is a woman, women don’t understand about guns and these things, that’s secret was between you and me, right?”

“Okay..." Arthur kept the gun in his locker, just then, you showed up. And you looked at his back. And the contusion in his scapula.

“Arthur”

Arthur was shocked with your voice. He feared you'd find him with the gun in his hands, but unfortunately, you couldn't see the paper bag. You could only see that purple stain on his back.

Randall left there, he knew very well when you were present, he wasn't welcome. But you didn't even care about Randall's presence. You come up to Arthur and made him sit on the seat, you sat down too.

You couldn't find the words to express yourself.

“Arthur, why you lied to me?” You asked him in a brittle voice, you didn't cry just because you were at Ha-ha's.

“What? I don’t lie to you”

“You did it! You said you hadn't been hurt when you were assaulted, and the first thing I see is that huge blow on your back, Arthur."

Arthur was embarrassed. What you were saying was true. He had lied to you, that wasn't something you could easily forgive.

“I-I don’t want to worried you, Y/N, I-”

“Well, now I’m double worry for you, because you’re hurt Arthur, they hurt you…”

Arthur looked at the ground, ashamed so many things, was ashamed that you saw him shirtless, that you saw the blows to his body, he was ashamed to have lied to you, he was ashamed to had worried you.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I really don’t want to worried you. I’m sorry to lied you Y/N, I’m sorry” He hugged you, hiding his face on your shoulder, hoping that his condition would not betray him at that moment. You hugged him, you honestly were a little disappointed with him because he hid the truth from you, but Arthur did it so you wouldn't worry. He wouldn't do it with other intentions.

Randall only watched you from afar, disliked the scene, how come someone was able to hug Arthur?

“Arthur” Gary appears again “Hoyt wants to see you in his office”

You stopped hugging him so he could go with Hoyt, Arthur put on his white shirt and went to the office.

“Hey Gary” Randall opened his mouth “Do you people call it miniature golf or is just golf to you?”

Some clowns started to laugh; Gary feel embarrassed again.

You get mad, really mad, why the people love to mess with those who were not to blame for their circumstances?

“So fucking funny Randall, did you tell to your wife that joke?” You looked at him “Oh yeah, you don’t have nobody to love, and nobody loves you”

"Hey Y/N, when will you and Arthur's wedding be? Because I can’t wait, I must to rent a suit for that event"

They made fun of you again, but not Randall, you weren't going to win this time.

"Soon Randall, very soon, but don't worry, you're not going to be invited, and I don't think any suit of all Gotham fits on you"

The laughter was heard all over the room, even Gary tried not to laugh, but was impossible. Randall was clearly angry, you smiled maliciously.

But all the fun for you ended when you see Arthur leaving the office, and leaving the building. Something bad happened. In the middle of the laughs, you got up and went after him. You came down the stairs.

You left the building and got to see Arthur walk into an alley. You ran after him. And you saw the image of Arthur kicking a few garbage bags. You've never seen him like this before, so angry, mad and furious.

Arthur falls to grown, feeling some stupid, but he really felted so frustrated.

“A-Arthur?”

He gets dumbfounded and turned surprised at you when he was crying and hugging his legs on the floor.

“Y/N? What you’re doing here?”

“I see you leave the job, what happened?” Despite the bad smell, you sat next to him. And then, you heard him, you never heard his voice full of angry and sadness at the same time.

"Hoyt said he was going to take it from my check the sign that those who assaulted me destroyed, he thinks I kept it, why would I keep his sign, Y/N? He said he didn't think I was assaulted for the sign, and I need the money, I need the money for my mother… He also said that... That many at work are not comfortable with me, they think I’m a freak, a weird. Y/N, is that true? I’m a freak? You feel uncomfortable with me?"

Arthur's voice nearly broke when he asked you that.

And now, it’s was your turn to get mad too.

“Arthur, what the fuck? Why Hoyt say that bullshit?”

“M-maybe it’s true”

How they dare to hurt Arthur?

“Well he’s is fucking wrong! I don’t think you’re a freak, I think you’re just a human” You took a pair of tufts of his hair “You don’t make me uncomfortable, you’re my best friend darling, please Arthur, believe in that, right?”

“R-right…” You surrounded him with your arms one more time. But that injustice to him wasn't going to look like that.

A little while later, you went to Hoyt’s office

“Can I help you, Y/N?” He said without looking you.

A loud noise made he stops to read some letters. It was your hand with a bunch of dollars.

“For your fucking sign. By the way, he’s not a freak”

He looked at you, and he didn't know if it was the way you spoke him or he'd never seen anyone defend Arthur the way you did.

He only took the bunch and counts the money.

“It’s okay…You can go”

And you leave the place.

…

That morning you woke up, you felt something bad was going to happen. Your instinct was telling you.

In Ha-ha’s, Arthur mentioned to you he was going to a children's hospital.

"Night Mime could come with you" You suggested, you could make back that fantastic duo, in fact, when you both worked together, they even tipped them for yourselves, you kept a little and with the rest you were going to eat at some small restaurant.

"That's a great idea, let me ask to Hoyt" Arthur went to Hoyt's office excitedly. That day, you felt the need to stand by him, to protect him.

Arthur backs with a disappointed face.

“And? What Hoyt says?”

“He said no”

“Oh…”

You also got disappointed, you really wanted to be with him that day.

“It’s okay, I’ll be alright”

“Yeah, you’re going into a hospital, a children’s hospital, nothing bad gonna happen”

He smiled at you. He prepares himself to convert in Carnival Clown. Before he let the place, you wish him good luck. And you don’t know this was the last time you’ll see Arthur in a lot of time.

The next day, you went to Ha-ha's in the afternoon as you had a little event at a school. You didn't know everything that was going on in the city until you got here. Hoyt said the school had canceled the clown show.

“Why? Why they cancelled the show?”

“You didn’t know Y/N? for the fucking killer clown”

The words "Killer Clown" took you by surprise.

“KILLER CLOWN?! What the…? What happened?”

“Y/N! Right here!” One of the clowns pass you a newspaper, you read the notice. A killer clown kills three rich guys in the subway.

“Oh my… What horrible” You said with total honestly. And you notice to Randall was so very nervous. You slowly went to where Gary was sitting.

“Gary” You whispered to him “What happened to Randall? I very enjoy the show, but I want to know why he’s like this?

In that moment, Gary saw you with some concern and preoccupation.

“Oh Y/N, a lot of things happened in the morning”

“What?”

“This… Well, it’s about Arthur”

You worried instantly, because Gary's face said a lot of things and at the same time nothing.

“Arthur? Arthur It’s okay?”

“Y/N… Arthur bring a gun to the children’s hospital; they warned to Hoyt about it and he fired Arthur”

Your mind clouded at that instant, your eyes became small, trying to understand all the information exposed to you in that little sentence your co-worker told you.

Arthur with a gun? Take it to a children's hospital? Arthur getting fired from Ha-ha's?

“…And today, he said the gun was Randall’s in front everything, and Arthur owed money to Randall from that gun”

As if it wasn't too much information to process the one you received first.

“What… What the fucking hell?”

Your mind processed everything, absolutely everything. Why would Arthur carry a gun? He himself had told you before that he could not take one, would Randall have forced or insisted until he had accepted? That’s probability, and now again thank to Randall, Arthur was out of job.

Randall deserved the little hell in he was in that moment.

…

You waited to the night, use you telephone and called to Arthur. You hoping he response the call.

You called him for three times, in the third time, he answered.

“Who is this?”

“Art… It’s me, Y/N, are you okay Artie?”

“Hey Y/N, I’m fine, I’m really fine, thank you, and you?”

You noticed that voice wasn't Arthur's. You knew it was him, but not at the same time. He sounded so different, like he was someone else, a stranger, not the Artie you knew, the Arthur who was your best friend.

“…Worry Artie… Gary told me everything about the morning in the job, it’s true about the gun, Arthur? it’s true Randall gave it to you?"

He didn't answer for a few seconds. You even though the phone was failing.

“Why you want to know that?”

You got frozen when you heard that, why Arthur was talking to you like that?

"Because I care about you, why you didn't tell me Randall gave you a gun? You know Randall is an asshole. I can, I can tell Hoyt you explained to me that the gun was a toy, I can get one just like it, and we could get rid of the real gun, we can…"

You were looking for a plan A, a plan B, a plan C, possibly a plan for every letter of the alphabet, something you could help Arthur with it, because he didn't deserve to be fired, you could help him, you wanted to help him. Your love for him was so big that maybe you could let forgive him that he's hidden things from you, he should keep his own secrets, right? But you really wanted to help him.

“It’s okay Y/N, I don’t need that job anymore, everyone there was awful with me, don’t need to support they shit. Don’t fix my mistakes, please”

Frozen, again.

And what did he mean by that they were all awful to him? He was forgetting you and Gary?

“Arthur… A-Are you really okay?”

“You don’t listen me? I told you, I’m fine, really fine, thank you, I guess”

But what the fuck was going on with Arthur? Maybe he was irritated and upset about Ha-ha's and the incident, but it was no reason to treat you so indifferent. It was much worse than when he was trying to avoid you at Ha-ha's for the first time, only that time it was for shyness. Now it looked like you really bothered him.

“I’m sorry Arthur, I just… Can I see you soon Artie? In your apartment? I can bring some candies and chips, what you think?”

Maybe you could make better his days, maybe it was time to tell the truth, to tell how you really felt about him.

But what you never expected of him was a rejection. Or at least something like that.

“I'll call you. Bye"

He hung up the phone, you said his name twice to make sure it wasn't. But yes, he hung up on you, ending the call.

You tried to understand him for the first few seconds, but soon your blouse and hands would start to soak in your tears.

Continue

#Arthur Fleck fanfiction #joker fanfic #Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader #Joker x Reader #joker x you #Arthur Fleck x Reader #joker fandom #joker film #joker movie #joker joaquin phoenix #joker #arthur fleck #arthur x reader

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 4 years

Text

JKR 2: BRC 1

Joker x Reader

Word Count: 1921

Summary: You love him, that much is obvious, but now Wayne is being flirty suddenly.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Alas, the much awaited sequel to JKR. At some point I got an ask for a sequel, but I literally cannot find it, so … Here it is! There will be more posting randomly as I get it out. Unlike my other series, I’ve got nothing like an outline, so I have no idea how long this is gonna be or when I’m gonna be posting it.

One of your favorite parts of being a mercenary was the fact that it was extremely rare for you to have to be a functioning human on Monday mornings. It was a perk you hadn’t really expected, but you absolutely loved sleeping in while the rest of the world crawled out of bed to begin another shitty work week. That alone almost made it worth it to put up with all the nonsense you handled day to day. And since you’d gotten involved with the joker, you’d even gotten to enjoy the addition of a warm body next to yours seeing how he shared your philosophy on those mornings.

So when you woke up naturally one Monday morning several months since agreeing to work with Joker, you were more than a little annoyed. The irritation was only slightly alleviated when you started to really observe your surroundings and realized that Joker was currently playing big spoon with you and clinging to you like a child with a beloved toy. That, at least, was a sweet bonus to waking this early. A little smile formed on your face despite yourself. You could feel his breath on your bare shoulder, softly puffing every now and then in his sleep; the rhythm of it could almost put you to sleep.

And then your bladder made itself known.

The annoyance promptly came roaring back.

Getting out of bed was a whole little challenge in and of itself due to the way he was clinging to you, but you somehow managed to escape without waking him. When you glanced back at the bed and saw the fearsome Clown Prince of Crime cuddled up to your pillow and snuggled under your covers, your heart gave a hard thump. Try as you might, it was steadily becoming harder to deny that you’d somehow developed feelings–real, deep feelings–for the madman. Every day you tried not to think about it because of how unlikely it was for him to reciprocate, but seeing him so vulnerable–without makeup and with green hair so faded it was almost completely back to its normal dishwater blond–made some part of you swoon. He trusted you enough to be so unguarded, and that was enough for you … mostly. Part of you still craved someone to talk seriously with, but you were content enough even without it. Or so you told yourself.

Sighing, you shook off the emotions and picked up his grey, patterned shirt from the day before. Problems for another day, you supposed.

Once your bodily functions were taken care of, you quietly stalked your way into the kitchen. Clearly, you weren’t going back to sleep anytime soon, so you might as well make a coffee. Maybe that would somehow help you tame your unwelcome feelings.

Clearly the answer was a big, fat “No,” since, as you were returning to the bedroom, you got distracted with how cut he was while you were in the doorway, mug clasped between your hands. You allowed yourself a moment to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere and pretend that the two of you were just normal people.

Then, true to Gotham’s nature, it all came shattering down when you heard the telltale scratching of someone picking a lock. Specifically the lock on your front door. The switch in your mindset to Business Mode was instantaneous. Your world seemed to sharpen as you slowly eased the bedroom door closed; it would be quite bad if your suspicion about the intruder was true and he saw your houseguest. Your hand tightened around the mug, ready to throw the scalding liquid in an instant if threatened.

An angry scoff left your lips when you recognized the head of brown hair that peaked inside your apartment once the door was unlocked. “You’re really making me regret my decision against getting a guard dog, Mr. Wayne.”

You absolutely hated how dashing his ensuing smirk made him. “As busy as you are? Probably not the best idea.” Unlike the last time he broke in, he wasn’t dressed like he came from a trust fund soiree; instead, he was in a more casual ensemble of dark jeans, a dark shirt, and a leather jacket with red trim.

“Any particular reason you’re breaking into my home today or were you just hoping I was still asleep so you could peep?”

“I have to say no. That’s not exactly my style.” A thump from the bedroom halted whatever excuse he had for this breaking and entering episode.

Your heart gave its second hard thump for the morning, this one out of fear instead of love. Leveling Wayne with a harsh glare, you ordered, “Stay put.”

“Of course.”

Mug still clenched in your hand, you quickly retreated back to the bedroom. Based off the sight that greeted you, you could only assume that the noise was Joker grabbing his pants off the chair and inadvertently throwing the knife from his pocket into the floor. “You good?” you asked the obviously-groggy man.

“I heard voices. What’s going on?”

“Don’t you normally hear voices?” you teased in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“No. And you know that,” he deadpanned. His tongue started flicking as his irritation aggravated the tick.

“I’ve got an unwelcome guest again,” you stated, deciding that blunt was probably better than finesse.”

“Wayne?”

“Yes, so you’re going to stay here while I deal with him.”

“Should I be … jealous?”

“Fuck no. Can’t stand the bastard.” Well that was a bit of a lie. As much as the richboy infuriated you, he also acted as a constant source of amusement. “But I don’t want him knowing anything else about me if I can avoid it. Be a good boy and stay here, and I’ll let you have your wicked way with me later.”

“You’ll let me do that anyway.” He was right and he knew it. There was a long pause as you stared each other down. You could practically see his brain working over his options until he finally exhaled heavily. “Fine. I’m too tired for this, anyway.”

For once, his exhaustion worked to your advantage instead of making him intolerable. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a few.”

“I await with bated breath.”

The Joker handled, you slunk back out to deal with the unmasked Batman; part of you realized that Gotham City Police would love to be in your position. Both men, vulnerable with identities out in the open? They’d probably kill for it. You, however, were just tired of today already.

When you returned to the living room, Bruce had once again made himself at home on your couch. “Boyfriend?” he questioned, eyebrow raised.

“Something like that.”

“He’s got interesting taste,” he commented with a little gesture towards your body.

You raised an eyebrow. Sure, it wasn’t exactly your style, but, “You’re one to talk. Enough of the questions, Mr. Wayne. Why are you here?”

“I need a date for a gala I have to go to tonight.”

Your eyebrows now shot up almost to your scalp. “And you came to me? First off, I don’t like you, so what the fuck? Second, you don’t like me, so what the fuck? Third, do you honestly expect me to believe that you couldn’t get a date? And for that matter–”

“Relax, Y/N. I’m hiring you for a job. I need a distraction, and I hear you’re the best.”

“Awfully short notice. What if I don’t have anything to wear?”

“Already have that handled. Come by my penthouse at six.”

“And payment?”

“Half now, half after. Check your bank account; money’s already there.”

“You’re damn sure that I’m gonna do this, aren’t you.”

“You’re curious, you want to know what I’m up to, and you always get the job done if you’re being paid for it.” He was smirking again and heading for the door as he said that. “See you tonight.”

“Bastard,” you spat at the door the second it was closed. Already, you wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and stay there for the rest of the day and it was only … 8:13 according to the clock on the wall.

Resigned to your fate for the coming evening, you retreated back to the bedroom. This time, you didn’t even pause to admire your lover’s form splayed across the bed. You did notice that his eyes were staring at you as you approached, though, and gave him a small smile.

“Got a job tonight with the hunky rich boy, huh?” he teased while rolling onto his stomach and kicking his feet up like a girl in a movie about a slumber party. “Am I just not, uh, doin’ it for ya anymore, dollface?”

“Fucker didn’t exactly give me much of a choice, did he?” you sniped right back. “Scoot over; you’re in my spot.”

His response was to flop back over onto his back and pat his lap. “You’re mine now, remember? I was a proper gentleman and hid away while you talked to your suitor.”

“He is not–” You were cut off by him tugging you down to straddle him. “My suitor,” you finished, doing your best to sit on him with some modicum of dignity.

“Oh, you don’t have to lie to me, sweetheart. He’s quite, uh, dreamy.” He cackled. “Any chance you could convince him to join us in here sometime?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, J. I don’t think he’d go for it.” Especially considering the whole nemesis thing … “You’re just stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

“Ah well, have fun for the both of us, my dear,” he shrugged. His fingers suddenly halted their attempts to unbutton your (his?) shirt; alarmingly, you hadn’t even noticed him doing that. “Why did Brucy know what it is you do for a living anyway?”

Fortunately, you knew that question was likely to come up months ago, so you’d long ago thought of an excuse. “Did a job cleaning up one of those trust fund brigade’s messes after a particularly nasty party–”

“Ooh!”

“–and that apparently got me on his radar.”

“Never a dull day for a mercenary.”

“Or a madman,” you teased right back. “But be that as it may, I’m gonna enjoy having you all to myself until I have to go to that stupid party.”

“Never a dull day, indeed!” he cheered. “But for real, you gotta get a video or somethin’ if you fuck him tonight.”

You rolled your eyes even as you tugged at his boxers. It was an interesting thought. While you had first priority on the Joker when he was off the clock and a serious case of feelings for the clown, you were under no illusions that this was an exclusive thing. Physically, you sated each other easily. Emotionally, you were all the Joker needed (or wanted, for that matter), but he wasn’t crazy enough to think that he satisfied all of your needs. The whole comforting thing specifically was a weakness of his. You’d discussed all this (excluding the whole love issue) months ago at your insistence since you had no desire to earn the Joker’s wrath by having an affair.

Shoving all that aside, you just scoffed. “That man is infuriating.”

“And he has a crush on you. I can tell. We madmen have a … sixth sense for these things. Besides, the flirting was painfully obvious even from in here.”

“I’m not fucking Bruce Wayne.”

“Right. You’re fucking me!” Another hysterical cackle.

“Well …” you grinned, “I’m about to be, anyway.”

#joker x reader #the joker x reader #heath ledger joker x reader #batman x reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #sellyoursoulforarequest

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2ki8h1 · 5 years

Text

What if Ishimaru and Mondo had both survived the killing game?

So, at the beginning of this year (2019), I decided to embark in a different project: to write a full fanfiction surrounding a certain idea: “What if both of them had survived the killing game?”. The goal of this was to include Ishimaru, as well as Mondo, in the canon plot described by the games and anime (I still haven’t read the novels or the mangas) by creating an adventure surrounding them but also focused in points I wished I saw in Danganronpa. In other words, write about their character development, their relationship (yes, it was supposed to be mainly focused on Ishimondo as a couple, slowly blossoming their romance) but it was also an opportunity to write about tragedy and despair (I enjoy writing horror and angst). I won’t reveal any major spoilers (about my fanfiction) because I haven’t decided if I will continue to work on this. I have other tasks at hand that I need to prioritise. It was supposed to be a big project which I estimated to be longer than 100.000 words. [so far, I have only written over 13k with the 1st chapter still at the beggining, while the second one is already at the middle with over 10k words.]

The point of this post: since I don’t know if I continue this or not, I would love to share the best moments I have wrote so far (both humorous and romantic and I have decided to not share any gory/sad parts). I will give context for every part I share without giving too much details.

NOTE 1: The narrator tries to put themselves in the feet of the character they are focusing on. So, they also try to adopt their way of speech and attempt to convey their feelings facing the various occasions (for example: the narrator is more crude and sad when the character in focus is Mondo)

NOTE 2: English is not my first language. So I apologise for any mistakes found.

WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR DR1 AND SDR2.

1. “Hopes and Dreams”

Chapter: 1

Context: epilogue of DR1, looking at the metal gate that locked them inside the school, after defeating Junko.

The prospects of a new start were high amongst everyone. Makoto was experiencing a restraint holding his body, in other words, he felt tensed. Suddenly, the feel of warm leather touched his right palm. Kyoko had approached him and gently held his hand. She didn’t made eye contact however he appreciated her kind gesture. “You will not fight this battle alone.” Her speech motivated him and invoked a determined willpower from within which led him to furrow his eyebrows and squeeze her hand slightly harder. Amused by his mood changes, Kyoko tried but failed to conceal a shy, joyful smile.

Mondo walked closer to his brother and hurriedly hurled his long coat to fall over the other man’s shoulder and placed his right arm around Ishimaru’s neck to enfold him in a friendly embrace. That action startled Taka, who barely succeeded to sustain both feet on the ground after the abrupt (and clumsy) headlock. Along with an open, radiant grin, Mondo spoke: “Finally, we’re leaving this place!” Taka with his left hand reached and grabbed Mondo’s right wrist and looked back at him to return his kind words with a soft, resolved smile.

(...)

Byakuya continued to show suppression of his emotions to let his cruel image rule whatever perceptions he wishes others to have of him. Toko was next to him, fidgeting her fingers in embarrassment, peeking briefly at her “beloved” every two seconds with an odd, lustful desire on her face. Hiro, in the other hand, was screaming and crying in ecstasy, praying down in all fours, blessing the floor underneath and showing gratitude to whatever god (or alien) was looking after him.

2. “Lost happy memories”

Chapter: 1

Context: shortly after opening the door, the survivors stand inside the school grounds but outside the building, thinking what they should do next.

Even if any of the lost memories had still not returned, Mondo remembered fondly of the small time he spent with Chihiro during the game, it had been enough for him to develop feelings of admiration towards the geek. He reached out for a specific content that was sitting inside of his long coat’s left pocket (the same coat that continued to shelter Ishimaru’s shoulders) to purposely find the set of stolen photos that served as evidence in the former trial. He glanced upon one in particular. It starred him hugging fiercely both of the baseball star and the computer nerd – he was happy. No, he was extremely happy. Look at his wide, stupid grin; it was a smile that he didn’t recall to see a long time ago. He browsed through the rest and his suspicions were confirmed. He had good times at Hope Peak’s academy. However, the collection was limited. Did he get along with the rest of the class? Were he and Ishimaru as close as they currently are or were they fierce enemies fighting about dumb things? There were a few of him smiling towards Taka. More than anything, he wanted to believe in the happiest statements. He glanced through the same photographs once again but he ended up with the same doubts. He wished to rewind time and relive through those moments one last time where he could adopt the same idiotic, relaxed posture he seemed to use back then. At least, he wished the set included a photo of him with his kyoudai. Did they also resolve their differences with a competition in the sauna? He laughed at the thought.

Ishimaru sighed while pointing at one of them. “I will miss them as well.” At the end of his index finger was a photograph captured by Makoto: They were all posing for the picture, in their school uniforms, inside their classroom (well, almost everyone - of course, Leon insisted in wearing his version of a “uniform”). Mondo turned his head to encounter red eyes glazed, stained with tears that fought to break free. Wow, he really was kind. “We were lucky… I wonder if I truly deserve to be one of the s-”

Maybe too kind for his own good. “Shut it...” He caught Taka surprised with the response. “What would I do without my brother next to me?” Mondo added, wrapping an arm around the other’s neck in a friendly way.

“Maybe it’s true. I still have a lot to lecture you about the true value of effort!”

That was not what Mondo wanted to hear “Oi-“

“And, as selfish as this may sound, I am truly relieved you weren’t the one who passed away.”

Sadness and guilt. Mondo looked at Kiyotaka and remembered how those two words felt. Those were feelings Kiyotaka was over familiar with… hell, even he knew the despair hidden behind those terms.

Mondo had quickly learned to detect those moods. In fact, he was pretty good at it! And he was unnecessarily proud of that achievement... The diagnosis? Symptoms of a low self-esteem. He still hadn’t figure it out how to improve his condition however, he had to think about it later; right now, he wanted to focus in leaving this creepy-ass school.

“Movin’ on… What th’ hell is this creepy smile?” In a sloppy attempt to change the subject, he shoved the mentioned picture in Taka’s face.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Look at your face! You look like those creepy clowns but without the makeup. So stiff and robotic and why are you behaving like a soldier?”

“Ghk- Are you saying I am ugly?”

“Wha-! Ah- Shit! no!” just like mentioned before… embarassingly sloppy “That’s not what I meant! I just wanted to tell ya’ that ya’ need to smile naturally and not force yourself just ta’ try to look good in th’ pictures because it has the opposite result you intended!” Mondo pulled off a different photograph. In this one, they were with their gym clothes, enjoying a P.E. class and Ishi was smiling brightly while cheering for their class “For example, in this ya’ look natural ‘cause ya’ got caught off guard!”

“Oh- I see.” Disappointment was felt in his voice.

“Well- See? It doesn’t mean yar ugly or nothi’, actually I think ya’ are very good lookin’. Ya’ just look funny in photographs. Not everyone is photogenic! ... (especially you…)” he babbles.

“Thank you.” Taka released a soft smile. The type of smile someone would like to record it with a photograph “You are a very kind man, kyoudai!”

And Mondo gets easily flustered with sweet (and cheesy) praises “Oh! Stop it! Don’t worry that pretty head of yours thinking that yer’ ugly or some bullshit like that…”

“I don’t usually concern myself over those issues. But I can’t stop myself from wondering if the lack of a more relaxed posture or behavior is the result of my failures at adopting socials skills.”

Mondo couldn’t deny it. He had the same opinion. He gave it a shrug in an attempt to give the conversation a closure.

“And if I may say so myself. I think you are a very attractive man yourself, Mondo.”

Mondo blushed even harder at the sudden compliment. And again, that cute smile… if only he could make him smile like that in photos…

“I know!! What if I force you to smile spontaneously?”

A small silence broke between the two “Force me to smile spontaneously?” Mondo cringed at the obvious mistake “Did you think that through?”

“Eh- shit! Atleast I am tryin’. I don’t see ya’ spittin’ any ideas!”

Taka chuckled. Mondo never considered to see Ishimaru laugh as he did right now. It created an ambience of comfort. It’s a new side that Mondo wished to see his brother with it in more occasions. “I will try to think of something too, then.”

Observing those two talking was Kirigiri; detective mode activated: the right index finger intertwined and resting on her chin as she would normally do whenever she found herself immersed deep in her thoughts. “Those two seem to be in a good mood. It’s good to have someone to rely on.”

“Well, I consider myself lucky too. After all, I am the ultimate lucky student if I have you backing me up.”

That was… unexpected. Was he trying to be smooth, flirty or just kind? One look at his facial expression: huge smile, eyebrows tense, shoulders determined. He was definately not trying to be flirty but that comment was very effective. She turned around, flushed.

3. “Makoto, the servant”

Chapter: 2

Context: daily life of Makoto in the Future Foundation.

Makoto had woken up with a tedious mood. He checked his alarm clock and groaned… 4 a.m., “Great!” He said before slamming the snooze button and slumping back into the flat, old pillow. He blamed Togami for that. The man continued to impose him waking up at ridiculous hours to perform the most preposterous tasks. To be honest, he sometimes felt to be Togami’s pet or worse… a servant. He cringed at the idea and quickly dismissed such unwelcomed thoughts to not further the cranky mood he was in.

“Peasant, I will need my coffee at exactly 65ºC (150ºF) with just a sniff of cinnamon or I’ll have you thrown into the dungeon. Naegi, you tell them the answer!” He adjusted his imaginary glasses, pointing forcefully to a random nearby object while attempting to copy Togami’s presumptuous act with an over exaggerated high-pitched voice. “Makoto, that was not what I wanted y-you to t-tell… t-them.“ …but he merely ended in chuckles in the middle of the last one, ridiculing his own failed attempts.

He pushed the sheets to one side and hopped off out of bed. Imitating Togami would always lighten his mood. He grabbed his phone to see what horrifying tasks awaited him that day…

4. “Reunion”

Chapter: 2

Context: Mondo was part of the 2nd division (army) while Ishimaru belonged to the 14th division. Mondo was a soldier, facing wars in different points of the world; while Ishimaru worked in Future Foundation’s headquarters, safe from any danger. This was not their first reunion but it was the one where they spent the most time apart. The location of the reunion was in a cafeteria inside FF.

At the end of the corridor, he rested his hands over the knees to normalize his respiratory rate. One mental reminder to himself was to put his exercise in order! Those sleepless nights and postponing his exercise regime were clearly affecting his stamina. Though, he would have to worry about that later. Still panting, he recomposed to an upright stance to meet the single entrance of the beautiful building where Mondo awaited him. The smell of freshly baked buns was causing his stomach to start rumbling. He touched the glass door but didn’t push it to open. Instead he looked through the stained glass and tried to spot him. Shaky breaths were quickly turned into condensation whenever these brushed over the surface of the glass, defocusing the once clear image and forcing Kiyotaka to clean the droplets with his right sleeve. It had been wise to look for him behind the entrance door. It avoided a clumsy search inside the cafeteria for anyone to watch and whisper. He sensed something was beating fast inside of him. He confirmed that his heart was racing when he placed a hand close to his chest. Why did he feel so nervous?

The cafeteria was still pretty empty at this time of the day but a few people were starting to fill the empty chairs and placing their trays on top of the metallic round tables to start enjoying their meals. Loud laughter and loud chatter slowly scattered across the space, too much to his annoyance. He looked at his right, straight to his usual table. It was almost hidden by a load-bearing wall, away from the restless crowd and at the same time, closer to the landscape he so enjoyed. That blooming tree filled his morning with color and energy and made him believe that he could endure another harsh, boring day. Darn, someone was already occupying that… spot. Wait… sun-kissed muscles, different uniform (if not mistaken, he recognized it to be from the 2nd division), bleached long hair… That was Mondo right?

“Mondo.” he whispered only letting himself to hear before opening the door. The smile vanished in a brief second after he noticed bruises, scars and some bandages covering his best friend. Mondo turned his head around almost unconsciously to the scraping sound that the front door’s metallic base did over the tile floor, a common sound that repeated every time someone moved it to open.

Not five seconds passed when a very trembling Ishimaru had his arms around him. Mondo felt a stream of warm tears running loose in his cheeks, damping the collar of his t-shirt. Taka was crying, of course. Gently, Mondo folded his arms around the other’s midsection, pulling him to his lap to allow his forehead to drown in Taka’s neck, surrendering to the embrace.

The comments mocking the odd pair suddenly reverberated through the room, filling the air of not-so-sneaky murmurs. Without separating himself from the warmth radiated from Taka’s right shoulder, Mondo rotated his head, locking eyes with the few smug fuckers. A narrow purple iris shined in contempt out of a squinted corner of his left eye. Some deviated his looks, frighten by the former delinquent’s cold stare, while the boldest ones maintained the glare beside a derisive smile, maliciously enjoying the scene.

Yet, Taka was only focused in who held him; giving minimal concern to his surroundings. “Without hearing from you, I thought you were gone for good!” Hell, he didn’t even seem to notice the bastards around them! He only knew how his arms trembled and how his eyes hurt, overdriven with emotions.

Taka shifted to close the embrace even tighter, to reduce any amount of space that still remained between the two. The strong dedication put in those words chocked whatever sickening feeling Mondo was struggling with. Kiyotaka cherishing him was the remedy he needed to immediately light his mood and now, it was his turn to return the favor. Mondo moved one hand to ruffle Taka’s soft hair, while the left rubbed his back, working in tandem. Whatever it was, the affection was soothing the other’s tears. Mondo gave him time to compensate the time they had been away from each other so this position lasted for a few minutes.

Suddenly, Taka raised his head to look directly into the other’s eyes, who replaced kind eyes for a big smile. Mondo had a wide variety of smiles but this one, this stupid wide, teeth-clenched one meant ‘everything is alright’ where as Taka just continued to feel as hurt and tired. He inspected the scars meticulously, especially the ones across his face before unwrapping his arms around Mondo’s neck. Mondo didn’t budge but his palms slid to rest in other’s hips. Taka detected a tiny cut just under the left eye. He glared at it for a bit before rubbing it gently with his thumb to depreciate the change of texture that usually escorted injuries.

Red eyes were glazed deep in thought to which Mondo frowned and sighed. “Who are you?”

Taka was taken aback with the question. “What? Do you not recognize me?”

The exaggerated dismay on Ishimaru’s expression lines was what caused the loud, boisterous laugh that followed. It started off as a snort but it quickly developed to guffaws. That laugh only belonged to Mondo and to Mondo only. Taka simply gawked at him in absolute oblivion until the other stopped to explain. “I-I am just playin’ ya.” He managed to say between chortles “Ya’ almost fooled me with that long hair of yours, but your face continues the same. Oh gosh! How long has it been? 5 months? Hmph- it looks good on ya!”

This had not been the first time apart but it had been the longest they have been away from each other.

“This is hardly the time for games!”

“Sorry! Pout as much as you want. That cute angry face does not work on me! It was fuckin’ hilarious to see your reaction!”

Mondo conceded. He did look older, more mature, like a proper business man. He smirked turning Taka alert to his movements. He proceeded to remove his gloves and threw them carelessly on top of the table. He cupped Ishimaru’s pale but warm face against his cold hands. He flinched with the abrupt change of temperature but melted into it nevertheless. He pushed Taka’s bangs back revealing the angry wrinkled forehead and some kinky strands of hair that fought free from the grip. He noticed the obvious dark rims under the eyes, knowing full well he was the cause of that predicament. Regardless, he chose to leave the subject untouched. In any case he still had the same face and the same soft raven hair.

(…)

Although not evident, Kirigiri did worry about Ishimaru’s well being. He had a gorgeous smile when he truly felt happy and he was the only who could perform such a confidence boost in Taka.

“Hello, Mondo. It is nice to see you’re back safe.”

He looked at his right to see the former ultimate detective staring at him with a formal smile. “Hello Kirigiri. How are you?”

“Good. What about you?”

“Meh- could’a be worse!” he answered, looking fondly at Taka.

The conversation quickly died and Inadvertently, Kirigiri’s eyes fell over Mondo’s lap, where Taka was still sitting.

For once, Taka was able to read the surprise in Kirigiri’s face and immediately jumped out to his upright position leaving Mondo stunned.

“I didn’t realize I was still in y-your lap. I am so sorry kyoudai!”

He could have been quieter in saying that… Kyoko attempted to cover a snicker behind her usual thinking expression which became apparent that it would be a hard task when holding an apple in each hand.

5. “???”

Chapter: 2

Context: after the “reunion” moment. Taka went to grab breakfast for himself and Mondo, while the other waited for him in the lounge.

Taka rushed to the kitchen without running. Old habits die hard I guess. Mondo chuckled at that. A tall man with ridiculous hair was now approaching Mondo.

“Mondo! So nice to see you again, man!”

“Same, Hagakure. How are you doing?”

“Fine. (gasps) those are some ugly, nasty scars.” Hagakure pointed it out “Are you ok?”

“No, dude. Can’t you see I’m dead?”

“AHHHHHHH- a ghost!”

Mondo is now the one stunned by Hiro’s overreaction.

“Bro… Chill… I am just teasing you… Did you seriously think I was dead? How high are you?”

“Are you sure you didn’t come to haunt me??” Hiro continued, half-hunched, covering half of his face with his forearms, squinting towards an even more stupefied Mondo,

“You have serious problems. I was bein’ sarcastic, ya’ big idiot!”

“Oh- haha! I am glad to hear it!” Hagakure quickly to his usual chirp self and laughed it off “It would be bad news if I had been haunted by a ghost.”

“Whatever man…”

Thank you so much for reading!! And apologies for my terrible sense of humour!

#my writing #danganronpa #Future Foundation AU #ishimondo #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #Mondo Owada Oowada #naegiri #Makoto Naegi #Kyouko Kyoko Kirigiri #Touko Toko Fukawa #Byakuya Togami #Yasuhiro Hiro Hagakure #togafuka #naegami

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p-artsypants · 5 years

Text

Longest Night (18) Vowing

Marinette had thought Highschool had been hard. Right now, in this moment, she'd give anything to go back to those petty arguments and gossip fueled drama. But she couldn't. Instead, she and Adrien were trapped here, being punished, humiliated, tortured, for being heroes, all broadcasted for the world to see. At least she and her kitty were in this together. For now. Whump!Fic

Ao3 | FF.net

Before we get into this chapter, I just want to thank each and every one of you for sticking with this pain for so long. I know it hurts, but man, I really want the ending to be worth it for everyone. Just stick with me for a little longer!

This chapter may be the most dark. We are Adrien and Marinette, and some sad stuff is going to happen. But I have ended the chapter with some fluff to balance it out. And I think we are halfway through. We’ll see if the ending drags on longer.

I hope you all forgive me.

—

Marinette had officially lost track of the days. It was a feat that she had kept up with it as long as she had. But given there were no clocks and no sunlight, she was forced to conclude that time didn’t matter in this place.

Given the amount of times she ‘rested’ in her cage, she’d put their stay at either 5 days or a full week.

Could torture grow stagnant? Because that’s what it was starting to feel like.

In the mornings, there was some form of humiliation tactic being used. Degrading names, dehumanizing acts. Forced to eat food off the ground, forced to crawl and act like animals.

She was getting used to it.

And that was concerning.

In the afternoon, they’d hang from their chains, and in the evenings, they played the noose game.

Adrien at least coped better than he did at the beginning. He kept his eyes clenched shut and refused to cry out. When he began to hyperventilate, he would remember how to breathe, and calm down for a moment, before repeating the cycle.

Had Salo run out of ideas? Or was something worse coming?

It seemed the questioned would be answered after the fifth ‘rest’.

Marinette awoke to someone stomping on her hand, which was outside of the cage, holding Adrien’s.

She recoiled with a hiss, pulling her hand back in and holding it.

“Isn’t that just so disgustingly sweet?” Salo asked, as the chains on her door were unlocked. “You’re sure going to like what we do today!”

Marinette was grabbed by the wrist and pulled into another room. Obediently, she didn’t ask any questions, but she was keenly aware that Adrien wasn’t following her.

In the new room, Marinette was made to stand. It was a small room, one light on the ceiling, with a table off to the side. A paper bag sat on the table.

She was alone with Salo. But that gun was still on her hip.

“Are you ready for the most important day of your life?”

Marinette hunched her shoulders. What was that supposed to mean?

“I…I don’t know.”

“Of course you don’t, you stupid bitch.” Salo laughed. “Now strip.”

A precursory glance around the room showed that there where no cameras in the room.

It’s not like it mattered though. Paris had already seen her naked.

So she pulled at the ties and took off her robe, laying it on the table nearby.

Salo didn’t say anything, just took out some white fabric from the bag. A corset and tutu, to be exact.

Marinette stared at the outfit with some degree of confusion.

“What, you’ve never seen a wedding dress before?” Asked Salo, with a little grin.

“Not…one that looked like that.”

She laughed. “Oh I know it’s a little different. But you’ll look so stunning!” She opened up the corset and wrapped it around her waist, fastening it in the front. “Oh good, perfect fit. I worried we’d have to starve you for another week before you could fit into it.” She turned her around, and began to tighten the ribbons.

“Why...am I wearing a wedding dress?”

Salo giggled, “why do you think silly girl? You’re getting married!”

Marinette’s heart felt unbelievably heavy at that announcement. “To who?”

“Why, to Chat Noir, of course. No one else wants you like this.”

Well, that was a relief. And it wasn’t like they were actually getting married, right? This was another one of her sick games. Making a mockery of something beautiful, joyful. Desecrating the sacred, and ruining the perfect.

Salo pulled the ribbons tight, making it hard to breathe.

“Oh, but I know what you’re thinking. This is just some sort of joke, right? No no, my dear. I’ve got a mayor here to make it official. I’m not going to tell you where he’s from, but all the paperwork has already been submitted. In a few hours, you’ll be Mrs. Adrien Agreste. Isn’t that just exciting?”

No.

It wasn’t.

Not like this.

Of course, she loved Adrien. And she loved Chat Noir too, by extension. She always dreamed of marrying him and having three kids and a hamster.

But that was when she was a kid. She was older now, and recognized that she wasn’t ready for marriage. Her and Chat had good camaraderie, Adrien and her were good friends. But a good friendship and business partnership did not a marriage make.

“Aw, you’re so happy you’re crying!” Salo cooed.

Marinette covered her face with her hands.

Her mother was supposed to be here, helping her put on the dress. And Alya, she was supposed to be here too. And her father was going to walk her down the aisle!

Where was the dress that she designed herself? Her flowers? The lovely chateau for the reception?

No, all she had was cold, dirty cement, and a too-revealing dress. If you could even call it that.

“There, let’s do your makeup. No bride is complete without a makeover!”

Marinette shook her head and backed into a corner. “No, no please, I don’t want to do this!”

“What’s wrong? Do you not love him?”

“No, I do! But I—“

Shit.

A malevolent smile came over Salo’s face, snagging onto the information and tucking it away for future use.

“No!” Marinette protested. “I meant that I love him, I care for him, but he’s like my brother! I love him platonically!”

Salo obviously wasn’t buying it.

“You know I hear everything you two say in that room, right? And so does everyone else in Paris. We all know that you had a crush on Adrien, and that he’s in love with you. There’s no use lying to make it easier.”

Salo walked slowly over to her as she talked, and then grabbed Marinette by the hair and forced her to look her in the eye. “Because whether you ‘love’ him, or not, torturing him in front of you is still going to hurt like a bitch.”

Marinette just moaned in pain. There was no winning with this woman.

Salo grabbed her by the wrists and had her sit at the table. “There there, pumpkin. We can’t have you crying while I put on your makeup.” She wiped her face with a handkerchief. “Now, to make you all pretty.”

Clown makeup.

Specifically Pagliacci.

A white face, with thick red lips, black outlines around the eyes, and black lines that looked like tears.

She looked demented.

Crying would only make it look worse.

“Now come along,” Salo grabbed her wrist again. “Your groom awaits you.”

Marinette was dragged by the wrist into the room she was so familiar with. The air reeked of alcohol. Men sat in chairs in rows, forming an aisle. At the end, a man with a book stood at attention.

And Adrien. Who was completely naked except for a bowtie. The bruise from his arm was now a sickly green, while the bruise on his chest from the crowbar was dark purple.

At her entrance, his jaw dropped, his eyes sparkling with tears. Sure, she had wanted her future husband to cry when he saw her in her wedding dress.

But not like this.

Never like this.

The audience stood, wobbling. She recognized that most were some sort of drunk.

Salo looped an arm around hers and started to walk her down the aisle.

The assembled started to sing, in a slur of drunken gaiety.

Here comes the bride,

All dressed in white.

Marinette couldn’t help it. She started to cry. How desperately she wished to hide, to cover herself, to never leave the house again.

Sweetly, serenely in the soft glowing light.

A hand grabbed her butt, and she sobbed outright.

Lovely to see, marching to thee.

Sweet love united for eternity.

Then she was next to Adrien, his mouth still open, searching for words to say.

But he had nothing.

No comfort.

No affection.

Just hopeless silence.

She wasn’t much better.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked Salo, in a stint of bravery.

Salo smiled, in what looked like patience. “In my research of the Ladyblog, I found a recurring theme. A lot of people in the forums wanted you two to get together. Not only that, but they wanted you to have a public ceremony, so everyone could be a part of it. And you see…you both are going to die here. I figure, you probably both wanted to get married someday. Who am I to take that away from you?”

Who indeed?

Adrien reached out and took her hand, squeezing.

Now that she was in front, Marinette noticed something very off about the officiant.

He was shaking like a leaf, and very pale. He didn’t look the least bit jolly like the rest of them. He actually looked downright terrified.

Salo needed an officiant. So, it was likely that he was being held here against his will. Just like them.

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to join…Chat Noir and Ladybug together in holy matrimony.”

Holy. There wasn’t anything holy about this. God had his face turned away.

“Adrien, do you take Marinette to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poor, until death do you part?”

Adrien swallowed and answered with a whisper. “I do.”

“And Marinette, do you take Adrien to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poor, until death do you part?”

“Yes, I do.”

The officiant sighed heavily. “The brands?”

Now, Adrien may have had his entire wedding to Ladybug all planned, but no where in all his research, did he read anything about brands.

There was an echoing squeaking coming from the hall, before another one of Salo’s men wheeled in a cart. On it, there was a cast iron pot with hot coals in it, and two pieces of metal sticking out.

Marinette stood a little closer to Adrien, fear overwhelming her. Likewise, he held her hand a little tighter.

Salo, and two men stood from the crowd, and went to Adrien, and took his bad arm, laying it flat, palm up on the cart.

Salo took a pair of heavy gloves and gave them to Marinette. “Alright, you’re going to take this brand right here, and you’re going to press it to his palm for five seconds.”

“I’m not doing that.” Marinette protested.

“Fine, then I’ll do it for you, and make it hurt so much worse. I’ll burn right through his hand.”

“No, wait…” Marinette clenched her fist. “I’ll…I’ll do it.”

“That’s a good girl.”

Marinette slipped the gloves over her shaking hands, and picked up the designated brand. Trembling, she held it over his open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Repeat after me: with this brand, I thee wed.”

“With this brand…I thee wed.” She trembled, before plunging it down.

It sizzled on his skin as a scream ripped from his throat. His fingers twitched, and his other hand grabbed at the nearest body and fisted in their shirt.

It couldn’t have been five seconds. Surely she counted too fast. But she couldn’t stand the sound, the smell. She ripped the brand off of him and dropped it on the floor.

In an act of mercy, Salo dropped his hand in ice water, which made it better before numbing his hand completely.

Marinette tore the gloves off. Wanting to take him and hold him, begging for forgiveness.

But she didn’t. She just stood there sniveling.

Without anyone forcing her to, she laid her arm down, where Adrien’s had been, palm up.

“No, no Mari, don’t.” Adrien begged.

“Please…it’s only fair.”

Adrien took his arm out of the water, holding his palm open for her to see.

The skin was blood red and bubbling, but in center of all the gruesome gore, the word ‘Ladybug’ was written in a fancy cursive font.

A brand. He belonged to her.

And soon she’d belong to him too.

She nodded him on.

Salo put the glove on for him and pointed out the correct brand for him to use. Because he was using his non-dominant hand, he braced his elbow on the edge of the cart to keep steady. The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up and cause her unnecessary pain.

A rivulet of sweat broke through her face paint and tracked down her cheek.

The officiant, with his eyes shut tight, spoke, “repeat after me: with this brand, I thee wed.”

“With this…this brand, I…I thee wed.” He stuttered, not even processing what he was saying. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he pressed the brand into her skin.

Marinette seemed to take it better than him. She turned her face away so she didn’t have to see. Her freehand came up to bite her knuckle as a very slightly muted scream rose from her chest.

White hot searing pain, that burned and sizzled all the way up her arm.

And just when she stopped feeling it, he pulled away.

The brand clattered to the floor, and Adrien held her fingers as she panted. Finally, she dared to look at her hand.

‘Chat Noir’ was written in matching script to Adrien, and the surrounding skin was raw, blistering, and bleeding.

The officiant took a trembling breath. “Then, by the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

It felt too weird, and too inappropriate to kiss at a time like this. This bastardized wedding didn’t deserve romance. It was wrong and awful.

But Adrien came closer, and caressed her arm gently, full of affection and love.

“May I?” He whispered.

“Yes,” she returned, just as softly.

It was just a peck. Certainly not the type of firework-filled kisses in the movies.

Neither of them enjoyed it anyway.

“Oh that’s not a kiss! Give her a real smooch!” A man heckled in the crowd.

Adrien bent and kissed her again, lingering longer this time.

“Nah kid! Use the tongue!”

Adrien grimaced, and helplessly shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how to tongue kiss.”

“Me niether.”

“Then ya better get ta practicin’!”

There were days in school, where Marinette would gaze longingly at the back of Adrien’s head, imagining him pining her to the wall, running his hands up her thighs, and swirling his tongue with hers.

But this just felt lewd and wrong. Especially with everyone whooping and hollering in the background.

She kissed him back, her heart pounding in her chest.

Just for once, she wanted to enjoy and remember a kiss with Adrien. Was that too much to ask?

Adrien pulled away, looking incredibly sheepish.

“Presenting Mr. and Mrs. Adrien Agreste.” Said the officiant, with some relief. He rested a shaky hand on both of their shoulders as he presented them to the crowd. A tear rolled down his cheek. “Will you let me go now?”

Salo smirked, standing, as her hand went to her hip. “Yeah, you can join your wife and daughter.” Then she withdrew her gun and without warning, shot the man in the head.

Marinette shrieked as he hit the floor.

The drunken mass of an audience all started singing the wedding march, out of tune and too loud.

“Daaa! Daaa! Dadadada—!”

Marinette just started bawling, her tears making the black paint melt and run down her cheeks in thick lines.

This was the second murder she had to witness in a week. And it wasn’t getting any easier.

Was this supposed to be a farce? A mockery of everything pure and clean?

Marinette looked and Adrien, only to see him covering his eyes with his hand as he sobbed.

Everyday, she felt more and more helpless. But this took the cake.

The chairs in the room rearranged and tables were brought in. She and Adrien were sat alone together at a little table, while everyone else gathered around. Then, the smell of food wafted through the air, and Marinette’s stomach twisted.

The body of the dead officiant was right there, his soulless eyes looking up at her.

The food came. Dishes passed between the men, drinks being refilled and clanged together.

No one brought anything to the sordid couple.

Salo stood, raising a wine glass. “I’d like to make a toast.”

The laughter settled down.

“To Ladybug and Chat Noir. May their last hours together be pleasurable and full of love.”

The words settled on Marinette’s shoulders heavily, making the floor feel like it was opening up beneath her.

Their last hours together?

She looked to Adrien, seeing his face full of panic as well.

“What do you mean by that?” Marinette asked.

But Salo didn’t answer, and the party continued without them.

They sat alone at the sweet heart table, the difference in the attitude of the room being palpable. The door to freedom was just on the other side of the buffet table of burly, well armed men. A perfect wall.

Adrien lifted his dead arm onto the table, looking at the branding on his hand. He gave a little smile, and confessed, “If I had to be branded with anyone’s name, I’m glad it was yours.”

Marinette mimicked him, setting her hand next to his. “Me too.”

He reached up and swiped some of the paint off her cheek. “I miss your face. You were hiding behind a mask all this time, and now you’re hiding again.”

“I want to take it off. I look so ugly.”

He shook his head. “It’s impossible for you to look ugly. Even with bad makeup.”

She took hold of his hand that rested on her cheek, and brought it to her lips to kiss, leaving some red paint behind.

Salo stood again, her chair scraping on the cement.

Marinette clenched her eyes shut and held his hand tightly. She didn’t want to be separated from him. Not now, not ever.

“I think it’s time for our lovely couple to go on their honeymoon! What do you fellas think?”

Of course, there was a drunken cheer that hurt the ears.

Two people each grabbed them, and hauled them down the hall. This time, they were led past their normal room, and into a closet. It couldn’t have been more than three or four feet wide on each side, and with both of them in there at the same time, space was limited.

Salo was giggling like a schoolgirl. “Now, have fun you two! We’ve got plenty of cameras and mics in here, so make sure you put on a good show for everyone at home!”

With that, the door slammed shut, and the laughter on the other side faded.

“Adrien…I…I can’t.”

“No, don’t worry about that. I would never make you…” He felt along the walls. “Here, let’s sit.”

He sat down first, and then pulled her to sit on his lap, their skin pressed against each other.

“Are you comfortable?” She asked, shifting.

“As much as I can be. Don’t move like that, please.”

Her face tinged pink. She leaned back against the wall, and just tried to allow herself to breathe.

Adrien’s good hand wondered over her back and shoulders, absently. She was sure if she asked him to stop, he would have, but she didn’t want him to.

“We’re not going to do what Salo wants us to do in here,” he said with finality. “I’m not ready for that.”

Marinette breathed a sigh in relief.

“But…I would like to hold you.” He whispered.

Marinette turned to lean into him. “I want you to hold me.”

She arranged his bum arm to rest on her legs while his other arm wrapped around her waist and held her tighter.

“So…” he began, “I’m the ‘other boy’ right? The one you kept rejecting me for?”

She scoffed. “You just figured that out?”

“Yeah well, it just hit me. I asked you how long you’d been in love with me for, and you said since that day in the rain…”

She ran her hand up his arm. “We really are stupid, aren’t we? If…if I had just agreed to let us share our identities…”

“No.” He said, a bit forceful. “You were smart on having us keep them to ourselves. Look at us now. Everyone knows who we are, and…” He rested his head against hers, as a way of ending the thought. “I’m just happy I have you now. I love you so much, Mari.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back.

This was cruel and unusual. Adrien was finally in love with her.

And this was the last time she see him for a while. Maybe ever.

The closet they were in was much too dark. A scant bit of light leaked in through the bottom of the door, but that wasn’t enough to see him.

“Can…can I kiss you? Properly this time?”

She took his face in her hands. “Please.”

This kiss felt much better. Prompted on their own, in their own world, despite the threat of cameras. It was soft and sweet, and everything she wanted in a first kiss.

Though it didn’t come first, this is the one she counted.

When they broke apart, he leaned his forehead on hers.

Timidly, she pushed some hair behind her ear. “I…I dreamt about marrying you. You know? I had the whole ceremony planned out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Would you tell me about it?”

She blinked with a blush, not expecting such an intimate question. “Well...” she swallowed. “I was expecting my father to walk me down the aisle. And for my mother to help me put on my dress.”

“One that you designed?” He asked, his voice soft and eyes closed, like he was trying to imagine it.

“Yeah.”

“What would it look like?”

She smiled slightly, picturing the drawing she had in her sketchbook. “A soft rose pink. Made of silk, with lace sleeves. I want to honor my heritage by embroidering a rose gold phoenix on the skirts.”

“That’s a really nice touch,” he hummed. “You’d look beautiful in it.”

She blushed again, ducking her head to lay on his shoulder.

“What about the ceremony? Where would it take place?”

“A chateau in Giverny. Where we can get married out in the gardens, under a wisteria tree. I just want lots and lots of flowers.”

“I like that idea. Certainly better than mine.”

She giggled. “You had a wedding plan?”

“Every bit of it. Even down to the color of the napkins.”

“Then pray tell, what does our wedding look like to you?”

“Well, it was going to be in Notre Dame…and then I had to change it to Chartres Cathedral.”

“I could get behind a Cathedral.”

“It’s so beautiful in there, My Lady. The gothic architecture and the stain glass windows. It’s like a castle, fit for a princess.”

“Do they allow cats in cathedrals?” She joked.

“Rude.”

“What kind of cake?”

At the same time, they said, “Vanilla Raspberry delight from the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie!” They laughed together.

“And what about the honeymoon?” He asked, “We can go anywhere in the whole wide world. Where do you want to go?”

She was quiet for moment, thinking. “Have you ever seen ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?”

“Every Christmas.”

“I like the scene, where George and Mary loan out all of their money to the people in town, so Mary goes back to the abandoned mansion and makes a resort just for them. With posters of all the places they wanted to go, and a little dinner. And then they kiss to the sound of the rain, and Bert and Ernie singing ‘I love you truly, truly dear’.”

“That part always makes me cry.” He admitted.

“My point, is that it doesn’t matter where we go, as long as I can be with you.”

He kissed her forehead. “In that case, let’s get a sailboat. Sail the world. At night, we’ll be just a silhouette surrounded by a myriad of stars. Spend our nights on the glassy water, where you can't tell where the sky begins and ends. Just the two of us, free to go wherever we want.”

“That just sounds too good to pass on. You promise? We can do that?”

“When we’re out of here, we’ll have our perfect wedding. And then we’ll go, and never look back.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #ladybug #Marinette #adrien #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #fanfic #longest night

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manesguerin · 5 years

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i’m actually feeling pretty good about our boys after tonight. thoughts under the cut for spoilers!

i’m not feeling negative about how adrian left. i still think we have hope for our boys. i mean look at what they came back from in season one. the last interaction we had of them back then was adrian telling him point blank you can’t make me feel something i don’t which we know wasn’t true. he felt it even then. after all, we had canon confirmation tonight that he’d loved deran since they were kids.

it also showed us that adrian has a history of distancing with these emotional lines. tonight, we got the same thing (you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me).

but sarah, he left without deran! deran chose his family over adrian! its exactly what pearce said at the beginning of the season (do you really think deran would choose you over all of this? or whatever the line was - too lazy to pull the videos right now).

yes, i can see how that looks kind of bad, but my dudes, we have at least a full season after this. we have a season for them to grow back together, which is what they are good at doing. was i screaming at the tv for deran to go after him? yes. but do i think they wrote themselves into a narrative hole that they can’t get out of? no way. i can see like five other paths out of this particular hole and if i can see it, i have faith that the professionals who have thus far written this b e a u t i f u l love story can do the same thing.

deran and adrian are the heart of this show. they are the emotional center. yes, we have craig and renn, but they’ve never been stable and i hold my breath every single time craig goes home expecting nick and renn to be gone and face it, its probably gonna happen. historically speaking, its what renn does. there will be a note saying she’s gone to tasnim’s. but that’s for another time. deran and adrian are the emotional core. there’s no denying it. in terms of relationship arc, we’ve had a beautiful one and this wasn’t an ending.

this was them standing outside of the bar, deran begging that he just wanted them to be alright. this was deran sacrificing his happiness for adrian’s safety but not able to sacrifice his family after finding out pope knew about adrian talking to the cops and didn’t do anything, after craig stood there and looked him in the eyes and said he needed him. while deran and adrian are the emotional core, the relationships between the brothers are the pillars of this show. he couldn’t leave his pillars, even for his heart.

adrian left, but he’ll be back. nothing was said that they can’t come back from. you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me is literally on par with you can’t make me feel something i don’t and i just - i refuse to be a negative nancy over something that will come back.

and y’know if this time next year i’m wrong? catch me putting on my clown makeup. got enough of it.

but i also have a lot of hope and faith in the story they’ve been telling with these boys as they’ve moved from toxic to healthy to scared men trying to find their way out of a desperate situation.

this isn’t the end, my dudes.

deran and adrian, our beloved marshmallows, are engame. mark my words.

(i am however very bitter that i didn’t get my forehead touch. sue me. i’m over here putting the bi in bitter.)

#deran cody #adrian cody #animal kingdom #dedrian #marshmallows #ak meta #ak thoughts #ak discourse #sarah rambles #don't mind me over here #i'm just gonna sit in the moment #and think of all the beautiful ways they'll be back #because this isn't over #this is so far from over

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randomlynormalgirl · 5 years

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Joker Movie Thoughts

this is a bunch of jumbled, unstructured thoughts about the joker movie because I can’t stop thinking about it and I needed to write at least some of my thoughts down. might add to it every now and then. hope you enjoy it anyway if you end up reading it :)

MASSIVE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!!!!

watching the ‘joker’ movie felt like a very visceral experience for me. the movie manages to hold and intertwine many complicated themes alongside the plot so eloquently that I am not surprised it received an 8 minute standing ovation. I will be personally outraged if Joaquin phoenix does not receive an Oscar for his portrayal of the joker character because he manages to perfectly display the descent into madness as well as the tragedy of the movie. This movie manages to make you want to sympathise with Joker because the course of events leading up to him becoming the joker is very tragic and given the right circumstances would turn any sane man mad, yet you know you shouldn’t empathise with him because you understand he is mentally ill and that he sees violence as the only way to exact his revenge. Every scene in the movie is a trailer moment yet I didn’t feel like the movie was spoiled for me in any way.

Another aspect of the movie I liked is that Joaquin Phoenix manages to use his acting skill so well that he can subtly show how the joker’s descent into madness builds to a crescendo so spectacularly. How the first dance he does after his first kills is slow and controlled compared to that when he is fully embracing his madness and dancing on the steps so freely, because in his madness he is set free. It reminds me of Midsommar in that way slightly. Also, Joaquin’s body during the movie was also a strange sight and the dedication he put into the role to make himself look that skinny and ill simply astounded me. also, knowing that Joaquin improvised the dancing in the bathroom after Arthur's first three murders makes the scene all the more eerie to me. i hope he looked after himself after he finished filming for the movie because i dread another heath ledger situation, i don't think my heart could take it

I also appreciated that despite the amount of violence in the movie, a lot of the deaths are actually not shown. I think it’s a sign of good acting and good directing when the audience can guess what’s happened behind the scenes just from a few context clues (such as the end of the movie when he leaves the therapists office trailing bloody footprints)

I saw someone on twitter say that the joker movie is just Marxism in practise and honestly I can't fault their logic. The working class leading a violent revolution against the top 1% because they want better than the shitty lower hand they have been dealt, the fact that the newspapers in the film literally call it the 'kill the rich' revolution, the fact that Thomas Wayne literally calls them all clowns and it only ends up spurring on the revolt further. i mean, i can definitely see it.

The story is heartbreaking because it is believable. Watching as a mentally ill man is pushed to the extreme due to funding cuts for his therapy which ultimately stopped him getting the medication he needed to stay sane, poverty, an abusive childhood, a mentally ill mother whilst also living in a classist society where the working class are oppressed by people like Thomas Wayne. A good example of this to me is his first trio of murders; he only killed them because the three Wall Street type guys were going to beat him to death had he not pulled out the gun to kill them, yet it is certain that if Arthur had been killed by those men no one would care because he was not someone worth reporting on in the eyes on the media. In short, anyone below middle class in Gotham were considered nobody and they had enough. Arthur merely sparked the rebellion.

I enjoyed how the joker didn’t plan to become a political figure in the movie. He unintentionally becomes a martyr to the people of Gotham and how that tied in with the origins of batman was a very cool moment for me as part of the audience.

To add to this, the ending of the movie being dubious was an interested touch. Throughout the movie we learn that we cannot always trust Arthur’s perspective. From his fantasy of being on his idol’s TV show, down to his delusion of the romance between him and Sophie. So, the idea that the end of the movie suggesting it was all in his imagination was interesting to me. I, however, don’t subscribe to such a theory because I think the final flash of Bruce with his dead parents was the director giving us that subtle hint that this time the joker wasn’t just dreaming of being successful and loved by many, it was real this time. A slightly less important note but the aesthetic of the whole movie was just very grainy and gritty and fit the film? like the old school format, the cinematography and the fucking SOUNDTRACK. 'that's life' by Frank Sinatra is one if my favourite songs and the fact is features so heavily in this movie was a really cool moment for me? i also really liked the whole riot scene; it just felt really raw and gritty and like a true climax to the joker's story as he finally becomes the persona fully and finds his new identity as the figurehead for this revolution in Gotham

Of course, I cannot talk about this film without mentioning my beloved heath ledger and his depiction of the joker, and the references and similarities between the two. Let me make one thing clear; phoenix’s and ledger’s joker are nowhere near the same. I remember reading that Joaquin and heath were very good friends, and that Joaquin did not in anyway want to impose on heath’s legacy. He understands how legendary that role was and said while he loves that portrayal he didn’t want to be a cheap imitation. I believe he has fully achieved such a feat but I cannot help but compare. Some ‘Easter eggs’ or possible homages to heath that I recognised were:

-the scene where Arthur is in the back of the police car reminded me very much of that scene in the dark knight where joker steals the cop car (ledger / phoenix). I realise that is is also supposed to parallel the scene earlier where he is sat all sad on the bus compared to how happy he looks in the police car but i didn't quite get it straight away.

-Arthur using his own blood to paint the smile on his face (x) after the car crash reminded me of the ledger makeup look

-Arthur saying to Sophie that he ‘had a bad day’ reminded me instantly of when heath ledger’s joker said something along the lines of ‘everyone is just one bad day away from being like me’

none-Ledger related Easter eggs I noticed too were:

-the protesters laying Arthur across the hood of the crashed cop car Jesus-style to signify that he's saintly to them was a nice touch -Bruce coming down the fireman’s pole was reminiscent of the Adam west batman series where they had to come down the fireman’s pole

-the joker being attached to the death of Bruce Wayne’s parents (although less directly in this depiction)

-the font of the late night talk show is the same as batman the animated series

-I’ve seen some people say that the backdrop of the talk show is the same during the titles of the animated series too

-joker killing the host was reminiscent of the dark knight returns where joker kills the audience of a TV talk show

-apparently the look of this joker is similar to that of one of his video game iterations but I can’t find that -the sort of reference to the inspiration behind the entire joker character by having Arthur have a condition where he can't help but laugh in certain situations, when the joker was based on the film 'the man who laughs' where a man is cursed to never stop smiling no matter how much he tries -major inspiration from taxi driver, which also features Robert De Niro so its a cool touch -some kind of reference to the movie 'the king of comedy', a movie centring around a person obsessed with a tv show host which has similar plot points and also features robert de niro again which is pretty cool

#joker #joker movie #joaquin phoenix #dc #dc comics #batman #joker spoilers #joker review

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clown-bait · 5 years

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Monster Family (Monster Roommate AU) Ch4

Pennywise agrees to hang out with his mate and gets LIT in an Applebees. Believe it or not this chapter is semi based on personal experience. I'll let everyone decide what part that might be.

CH4 LIT

“Oh great she brought the ball and chain.” Freddy groaned as his friend walked through the doors of the only with a bar in town the three of them weren't banned from. Trailing behind her a very uncomfortable Robert Gray groaned in annoyance when he realized they were in a family restaurant.

“Peachy there are children here!” he hissed in annoyance as the scent of delicious screaming baby assaulted his nose from the dining area.

“If I can control my self in an arcade full of street fighter virgins you can handle being in an Applebees for a couple hours. Besides we can't go to any regular bars since we have to pass Chucky off as Freddy’s kid.”

Pennywise huffed in annoyance at the mention of his tenant. “Then we could do this at our own home. You cant even partake in this anyway.” he grumbled

“Pen the point of going out is that it prevents me from getting stir crazy and doing something to piss you off again out of boredom. You better get used to atmospheres like this anyway with kids on the way.”

“I won't be bringing them to cesspits of noise and grease such as this.”

“Then you're sure in for a surprise Jingles havin’ kids is just traveling from one cesspit to another!” Chucky laughed in his booster seat while pouring another colorful mixed drink into his sippy cup.

“The fact that you've gone this far for entertainment is pathetic.” the eldritch spat as his tennant flipped him off. “Does your wife know you've started stooping so low as to play baby just to enjoy a night out?”

“Does your’s know you've been sniffin’ her panties while she’s at work like a creep?”

Leech deadpanned as she sat down “Hi Chuck I’m literally right here, also Pen that's gross.”

“Says the woman who fucked a spider.” Pennywise grunted as he tested one of the colorful drinks on the table.

Freddy groaned and took a deep drink “Aaaaand this is why we don't let you bring him.”

“Yeah Fred you're one to talk, pretty sure this whole Chris rebound thing you're going through has led to some weird rendezvous. The Bye-Bye Man comes to mind-” the vampire sneered and a clawed hand was shoved across her face.

“SHH don’t fucking say his name! Fuck now he’s gonna find me and ask why I haven’t called.”

Leech continued to tease the dream demon as her disguised clown began his second "hurricane". At least the drinks were sweet and he was able to quell some of the hunger within him with the sugary alcoholic beverages. Leech glanced over at her mate noticing the nearly empty glass.

"Woah slow down there tiger I know you’re large but that's gonna hit you fast"

"Peachy Pie I’m not human do not worry for me. Instead continue insulting Krueger I was enjoying that."

"You're my ride home you better be able to teleport while drunk."

"I’m fiiinneee"

"That response alone is suddenly filling me with so many regrets." she groaned.

"Lighten up Fangs they water the drinks down anyway." Freddy rolled his eyes and flagged down their waitress for another round of drinks. Robert let out a loud hiccup and giggled as Chucky silently observed with interest. Several moments later the eldritch began to sway slightly, barely hearing the conversation anymore and instead letting a literal wandering eye drift around the room hungrily resting on potential targets.

"Jingles is drunk" Freddy nonchalantly grunted.

"Are you shitting me?" Leech growled and glanced over to her mate who seemed normal until he turned to her his cheek split open at the side revealing a fang filled maw underneath.

"Yeess?" the eldritch attempted a suave look on his out of control face and tapped too many fingers over his chin as his hooded eyes drifted apart.

"Jesus fuck Pen control yourself."

"Im aaaaallways in control darling." He purred getting all the way into her personal space as drool fell from from his lips and onto her shirt.

"Oh my god its like owning a fucking mastiff with you sometimes." Leech groaned and playfully shoved him away despite his persistent growls and chitters against her skin. “Put the teeth away honey you're in public”

“Get a damn room.” Chucky yelled and the eldritch's head snapped in his direction roaring horribly in annoyance.

“Fangs uh he's really becoming a problem someone is gonna notice this.”

“Its weird that he got fucked up so fast, he only had two watered down drinks.” Chucky said as he studied the disguised clown.

“You're right give me your water” Leech hastily grabbed the clear liquid in front of the dream demon and tipped it against her mate’s lips. Freddy moved to stop her but stopped when Robert Gray’s face opened unnaturally wide to dump the liquid down in one gulp.

“FANGS! That was pure vodka.” Freddy yelled.

“Why the FUCK do you have a cup full of vodka?”

“Why the fuck not?” he growled and popped a small chocolate into his mouth. The eldritch stopped his swaying and stitched his face back together the room becoming much more clear as his eyes aligned once more.

“Who tried to poison me?” Robert groaned rubbing his temples completely sober. Freddy and Leech both stared at him dumbfounded. “HOW?!” they both shouted. Robert cocked an eyebrow.

“Belief.” he said simply and plucked a chocolate from Freddy's hand plopping it into his mouth. “I function on belief and imagination. I am serious about the poisoning which of you was it?”

“So what you're telling me is if I believe that apple juice could make you shitfaced it’ll happen.” Chucky smirked.

Robert sighed in annoyance knowing his three companions well enough now that his question will never be answered. “In a way yes.”

“Don't even try it Chuck.” Leech snarled but stopped when she felt her mate’s hand on her shoulder.

“Tricks will not work he has to absolutely believe it will happen.”

Freddy finally spoke up waving a gloved hand to get their attention “Uh guys….What happens if I believed that there were some pretty interesting party drugs in that candy.”

The vampire and the eldritch both froze.

“Please tell me you didn't.” Leech grabbed her friends stripped sweater

“I did.”

Chucky sighed and took a long sip of his drink “We’re gonna get banned from fucking Applebees.”

--------------

Pennywise had blinked and suddenly he was no longer at the restaurant. There was music that was loud and pulsing and sweaty bodies bumped into him from all sides. How did he get here? His limbs felt like jelly and he was holding some type of weird blue beverage. He took a large gulp of it to sooth the dryness in his throat and made his way back to the red lights that must be the bar. Despite being disoriented he did feel good, giggly even. He hadn't even realized his human disguise was part-way to “clown mode”, his face baring his trademark makeup, but he did notice that the other people around him were dancing he should probably as well. He needed to blend in after all. So he began to sway and move to the music leaping through the air dramatically like an acrobat. It felt like a full 27 years had passed as he performed but if he stopped the illusion would be ruined. Thus he had to keep dancing. As he swayed and stumbled in euphoria he bumped into the first face he had recognized in this new location who nearly fell from the weight of the cross faded eldritch colliding with his spindly frame. “Holy shit Jingles there you are!”

“Krueger!” the clown nearly shouted and pirouetted with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“Have you been drinking more?”

“I found a pretty blue drink on a tray! Pretty and sweet!”

“You're a riot Jingles.” the dream demon laughed “Who'd have thought you'd have it in you to steal drinks.”

More of the clown's human disguise melted and he giggled uncontrollably grabbing the dream demon into a back breaking hug.

“Pennywise is glad to see you my friend yes he iss! I was so lost in this strange new place!”

“This is the cenobites nightclub idiot also put me down jesus!”

“Mmmm but you are warm and small!”

“Save it for your girlfriend bozo.” Freddy shoved his tall drugged companion back and straightened himself.

“Peachy!? She's here?"

"Man you really are messed up. She's the one who dragged your ass here after you nearly mauled someone at Applebees. Said it was my fault and put me on babysitting duty."

The clown dramatically tapped his wet chin then grinned wide with an idea

"Krueger I wish to dance with my mate fetch her for me!" He growled puffing out his chest in a display of cockiness.

"What do I look like your servant?"

"........are you not?"

"Fetch your own woman.” Freddy grunted and left deciding the nosferatu could deal with her beloved man child herself.

-------

Leech sat in a private room her housemate in a stolen booster seat beside her chains hung from the ceiling as a high stakes poker game took place below. The vampire ripped off her sunglasses in annoyance.

"Seriously Pinhead turn some fucking lights on in here."

"You are the one insisting on wearing eye protection indoors."

"Its a bluffing tactic!"

"Fangs no one actually wears sun glasses outside league games except for assholes like you and Krueger."

The nosferatu snarled and ripped her glasses off. "If I lose I'm blaming all of you."

"Learn to lie better trashpire. I fold." Chucky sat back in his booster seat taking a drag off a joint much to Leech's annoyance.

"You've been folding a lot. Also Chuck, pregnant stop smoking."

"Fangs we're playing against a goat and a guy with no eyebrows. I don't think either of them has ever made an expression other than neutral in their immortal lives." The doll grumbled snuffing the joint out and putting it back in his front pocket. He turned to the growing bump under his friends shirt "Take note kids uncle Chucky is doing this for you now so you wont eat me later."

Leech rolled her eyes at him "I raise."

"You have nothing left to bet idiot." The doll shouted and Pinhead smiled at his cloven hooved companion.

"Nothing physical."

The vampire cocked her eyebrow with interest a low purr formed in her throat "Are we raising the stakes?"

"Fangs, Jingles will kill me if-" the doll was cut off quickly by a cold pale hand to his mouth.

"Quiet Chatty Cathy. Continue."

"I have a very lovely crock pot, stainless steel 4 different settings, no stick. All you have to wager is a simple IOU." The dark furred goat hissed into the air like a whisper.

"Why the hell would a vampire need a crock-"

"DEAL!" Leech slammed her fist on the table fangs gleaming in her wide smile. Chucky gasped like a fish in protest. The large black goat let out a horrible guttural hiss.

"Shake her hand hell priest and the game will continue."

"Sire I believe that crock-pot was the one you borrowed from me-"

"SHAKE HER HAND"

Leech grabbed Pinhead's hand before anything else could be said. "You have no idea how much blood pudding I'm going to make with that thing."

"Well this definitely won't come bite all of us in the ass later." Chucky sighed and slumped back in his booster seat.

-------------

Pennywise felt amazing. Lights flashed all around him as people brushed against him from all sides. Normally this would repulse him but tonight touch felt good and the loud noise vibrated his form's bones making his muscles tingle. A woman touched his arm and his skin melted from the feeling. Why was he here again? Someone he was looking for, someone he actually liked. Then there she was, in her messy platinum wig bobbing in the ebb and flow of the dance floor. He felt his body tingle with excitement and he pushed other monstrous creatures out of his way to get to his precious queen. "Hiya gorgeous~" he purred his usual greeting to her and pulled her to him kissing her deeply. He felt like the most romantic suave person in the room and Leech felt amazing against him. Her lips were warm and soft she smelled of fresh flowers sending tingles up his spine. Then the moment was broken when a voice that definitely was not his mate's came out of her mouth and the intoxicated Pennywise realized the person he just passionately kissed was not the mother of his children. He realized it a second time when an icy cold claw pulled him back and broke his cherry red nose.

I think he might be in trouble.

#pennywise #pennywise x oc #pennywise fanfiction #horror fanfiction #freddy krueger #chucky #Charles Lee Ray #pinhead #slasher fanfiction #it fanfiction #monster roommate au

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theramblingonesie · 5 years

Text

Facing Our Making, Part 3: Makeup and Gender

Welcome to Part 3 of my makeup blog series! This week we’re going to poke at gender and makeup. But before I begin, let’s review parts 1 & 2, and check in about where we’re at:

1. Beauty standards are impossibly harsh and cause a lot of unnecessary pain.

2. Let womxn decide what they want to do with their own damn bodies and stay out of it. Unless they hire you for a consultation.

3. Wearing makeup is awesome

4. Not wearing makeup is awesome

5. Your gender presentation and basically any presentation of your body and behavior do not determine who you are and aren’t attracted to sexually. And no one is the (*^*^%^$#%$#&*&^&%% authority to determine that for you. If they try, remember that they’re judging and labeling you in relation to their own internal gender/sexuality struggles. More on this in today’s blog below.

6. How toxic masculinity ruins the day in relationship to makeup or not makeup needs to die, and YES womxn also support and host this behavior (internalized misogyny). Just because a person has a vagina or presents as femme does not mean they are exempt.

7. Womxn who wear makeup are not whores unless they are, in fact, professional whores. Professional whores keep the world turning, and bless em for it. The problem isn’t sex work. It’s violence against sex workers. Consider your complicity.

8. Womxn are reclaiming the hell out of the word “Slut”, so don’t get caught being a dumb idiot who uses the outdated, violent, misogynist definition. 1000 years vagina dentata upon your entire household.

9. If you want sexual attention because you enjoy sex, then FUCK YEAH GIT IT!!!

10. “Pretty girls are dumb” is a myth that our society desperately seeks to nurture and maintain. This is rooted in dominance, power, control, and whorephobia. Stop it.

11. “Ugly girls are smart” makes no damn sense. Okay, yes I can see the backwards logic, but also if you listen to flat-earthers long enough you could even be like, “ok, I see where you’re coming from with that”.

It is not lost on me that certain beauty trends and habits can trigger and enable body image problems, ranging in severity. After attending a panel discussion that featured a speaker from Media Girls Boston, I learned that girls as young as 9 are learning that they essentially need to brand themselves through social media so that they can merely exist. Saying this is a problem is an understatement.

I support makeup and rituals of adornment. I support a lot of things that, if used improperly with dangerous motivations, can result in severe consequences.

Understand that there’s a lot of nuance in subjects like this, and utilize your critical thinking brain when exploring such topics. Continue your personal research if you’re curious about any subcategory in this series that I have not addressed.

If issues of beauty standards and pressure are uncomfortable or triggering for you, or if you or a loved one believe they may be suffering from a body-image related disorder, please know you are not alone, and there are people out there who are ready and available to support you through this. Links and hotline numbers are available in the resource section at the end of this blog. -------------------------------------------------------------

“If we are all members of one body, then in that one body there is neither male nor female; or rather there is both: it is an androgynous or hermaphroditic body, containing both sexes [...] The division of the one man into two sexes is part of [our] fall.” --Norman O. Brown, in Love’s Body, 1966

Okay! Let’s talk about this super important element of the art and ritual of beauty:

Gender!

To Marie Kondo this: This subject does not bring me joy, and I do not want to write about it, but I feel that I have a responsibility to not play floor-is-lava about it. It does not even bring me the type of righteous rage that fuels me to furiously complete a post. It fills me with doubt, insecurity, self loathing, trust issues, and a desire to disappear.

I need to say this because I know I am not alone in my feelings and experience. But I will keep it very brief because I’d like to move on.

I have experienced a lifetime of pain from the bullshit pressure the heteropatriarchy puts on female bodies. I never anticipated the heartache I would experience as a result of being judged and denied by fellow queers.

I am too butch, too unfeminine to be accepted as the right kind of woman in heteropatriarchal society. I make men question their sexuality, and I am the one made to suffer for it. I am too feminine for queers to believe and accept me when I tell them I’m genderfluid (which I have been, quietly and privately, my entire life). I am not feminine enough to be femme.

Too much woman. Not enough woman. Not woman. Not human. Once again, my body and my soul are everyone else’s to judge, determine, and own. Not mine.

And no one wants to listen when we say the world hates women.

I highly suggest looking up the toxic concept of femme invisibility in queer communities. You can start by reading this great article by Bust:

https://www.bustle.com/articles/166081-what-does-femme-mean-the-difference-between-being-femme-being-feminine.

For the record, I still use she/her pronouns. I stand by my allegiance to the fullness and diversity of womxnhood in a deeply ferocious way. My reasoning for that is both very simple and very complicated. So I guess that just makes it very complicated. Ask me how.

Mood.

Anyway, makeup.

About a month ago, I had wrapped a film shoot with some friends who flew up from Mexico. It was an incredible weekend that filled me up with so much bliss. On the drive back to Boston, I was chatting with my beloved friends and fellow Scarlet Tongue artists, Creature and Cass, about how much I enjoy the company of Mexican men. A large part of that is because it is refreshing to be around men who so easily embrace and express feminine qualities of articulating their emotions, accessing their emotions, gentleness and nurturing. Creature presented the important argument that such qualities don’t need to be classified as feminine or masculine; they’re simply personality and behavioral traits that anybody can have.

Such a point is absolutely crucial in untangling the oppressive nature of the gender binary.

Exercise:

The following traits have been classically designated as “masculine” or “feminine” behavior, but I’ve jumbled them together in the list below. Which traits do you believe belong to whom?

Reserved Warm Sensitive Utilitarian Deferential Apprehensive Reactive Emotionally Stable Serious Lively Socially bold Shy Rule-conscious Expedient Private Perfectionism Anxiety Group-oriented Self-reliant Tolerates disorder Vigilance Extraversion Traditional Grounded Agreeableness Neuroticism Excitement-seeking Attraction to aesthetics

Answer:

Hahahahah, I’m not going to give you the answer. It doesn’t matter.

Yes, hormones do impact some behavior. And YES, how we’re socially conditioned impacts which traits are more dominant. But the point is, there is an imaginary line between the two categories. The saddest reality is that, even though any human is capable of any of these traits on the list, society has determined that consequence and punishment must befall anyone who strays from their category. An enforced gender binary is dangerous.

Enter makeup.

Makeup has served infinite purposes throughout the course of history. It’s an incredible vehicle for expression, as well as radical social and political rebellion. Makeup has shaped entire movements of art, social justice, philosophy, and construction/deconstruction of body politics.

Your lipstick is more than patriarchal pigment in a tube. It is a tool for revolution.

Most people assume that makeup is only for clowns and cisgender women, and anyone else who uses it is simply a deviant who has “stolen” it.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Nononononononono

This probably won’t come as a shock to most of you, but yes-- Christianity also temporarily ruined makeup. Once upon a time, it was quite normal for men to wear makeup. Then the Jesus toe-suckers made up a whole bunch of arbitrary rules about what we currently observe masculinity and femininity to be, and here we are in this stinky pile of crap rules.

I highly recommend reading this article to learn a tiny bit more of the history of men and makeup:

https://www.byrdie.com/history-makeup-gender

Who wears makeup and how people wear makeup has shifted so much throughout history, and the struggles we experience around this today have only been relevant for a hundred years or so. One of the most common forms of rebellion we hear of is when women reject traditional femininity. Whether “burning our bras”, shaving our heads, or growing out our armpit hair, this is not an uncommon experience for a lot of women. The scandal!! The pet has escaped her cage!! So many women I know have experienced an anti-femininity phase at least once in their lives. Sometimes this “phase” transitions into a permanent rejection of gender norms, but it really varies from person to person. Often it’s set off by an overwhelming awareness of how much women are defined by superficial characteristics, traditionally determined and enforced by men. So we attempt to take ourselves out of the system by wearing neutral and aggressive clothing, switching up which parts of our bodies are hairy and which aren’t, and avoiding anything “girlie”. Revisiting my conversation with Aepril, my high-glam friend who inspired this blog and was mentioned in Part 1, she made a good point about honoring such an experience: “I went through a miserable phase in my feminist youth where I thought I was being uber feminist by not shaving or wearing makeup or wearing heels, etc, because to do so was giving into the patriarchy. I was miserable of course. It took my drag queen friends to wake me up to that, as I realized that they were willing to give up family, social status...their safety and even their lives for the privilege of expressing themselves in a glamorous, feminine way. While I had that privilege because I was born in a female body. I might be criticised by both men and women, but I wouldn’t be beaten in the street for transgressing gender roles. I realized how much it meant to me through seeing how much it meant to them. Why should I give that up either? Why should anyone have to?” In Aepril’s situation, she found that her place of authenticity was through femininity. In a world that is so divided between the shoulds and should-nots of who we’re supposed to be, I find it important to squeeze ourselves through and experience all sides so we can settle on what’s true for us. Then it’s no longer conformity; it’s an outlet.

In the 20th and 21st centuries, the use of makeup norms has been subverted to amplify voices that demand human rights and fair treatment. Its application has been largely linked to LGBTQ+ visibility and gay rights movements. The anti-Vietnam movement in the late 60s and 70s utilized makeup to display over-feminization and homosexuality as a way to avoid being drafted. The glam rock movement gave us icons like David Bowie, exposing and exploding restrictive gender norms through outrageous clothing and makeup, utilizing pop culture to spread ideas and acceptance of androgyny. “Female impersonation” has origins dating back to the 19th century in Europe, and the art of Drag Queens & Kings is alive and well today, celebrating, mocking, questioning, and expanding gender in clubs and theaters, in film, and right in our homes through TV favorites like Ru Paul’s Drag Race.

For our trans-sisters, the decision to wear makeup could have life or death consequences. As a transwoman friend of mine disclosed a few months back, when she’s walking down the street and hears a man call after her, her immediate thoughts turn to, “will I experience violence because I’m a woman? Or will I experience violence because he thinks I’m a faggot?” There is a lot of discussion in the trans community about the privilege of “passing”, and I believe these conversations have further supported the struggles womxn generally face-- does wearing makeup make you more or less of a woman? As writer Lux Alptraum points out, “the idea that external appearance is what makes someone a “real” woman is the very thing that many trans women have committed themselves to fighting. To the extent that makeup is an essential part of any trans woman’s gender identity or notion of her womanhood, it’s largely because that’s the message the rest of the world aggressively forces upon her.” Read the rest of this article at https://www.racked.com/2017/3/23/14937266/trans-women-makeup

Makeup is incredibly powerful. It can be used for protest, and it can be used for comfort. It’s daily wear, and it’s political. It’s an expression of freedom, and a bold face confronting restriction. It’s transformative, giving people the opportunity to live in the bodies and images that feel right and true for them. Makeup is art, an embracing of life and physicality, a way to show up, be counted, and be present. It’s an act of defiance, and an act of love.

I recently read that Facebook now has 56 gender identities one can choose from. Facebook blows, but wow that’s actually really awesome! Within that list, some of the more frequently used terms include:

Agender/Neutrois Androgyne/Androgynous Bigender Cis/Cisgender Female to Male/FTM Gender Fluid Gender Nonconforming/Variant Gender Questioning Genderqueer Intersex Male to Female/MTF Neither Non-binary Other Pangender Trans/Transgender Transsexual Two-spirit (Important: this is Native American. Don’t pull a Jason Mraz. Don’t appropriate)

Out of this list, the following folks are allowed to wear makeup:

All of them Everyone Anyone Everybody The General Public The Whole World Human Beings Aliens Animals but only if they’re actually humans in animal costumes

If you’re interested in following makeup artists on IG who are trans or gender non-conforming, here is a great starter list (partially sourced from wearyourvoicemag.com):

@ brownbeautystandards @ vlad_theunicorn @ jade_poncee @ makeupby_bran @ rosalynnemontoya @ miles_jai @ completedestruction

Again, there are infinite reasons why people of any gender do and don’t wear makeup, and I’m not going to be an authority on the matter. But I hope some of this information helps you on your journey to understand yourself better, and hold space of greater allyship and tolerance for others.

Below are some links and phone numbers if you feel you need greater support for the topics being discussed in this blog series. Being beautiful is cool, and so is being safe. You deserve to be here, and you matter.

Enjoy your week, and we’ll see you back here next week for Part 4: Performance Artists and Makeup!

National Eating Disorders 24 hr Hotline: 1-800-931-2237

https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/body-image-0

TransLifeline Hotline: 877-565-8860

https://www.translifeline.org/

LGBT National Hotline: 1-888-843-4564

https://www.glbthotline.org/

National Suicide Prevention 24hr Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

http://sexworkersproject.org/resources/

#makeup #nomakeup #gender #intersectional feminism #revolution #queer #drag #androgony #expressyourself

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candy-corps · 7 years

Text

Sweet Nemesis

Joker belongs to @one-bad-day-one-bad-clown !

Black clothes. Poncho, on. Candy, hidden beneath. Contacts in case he landed somewhere too bright, applied. Bruce was all set.

Today was the day. The teleporter should bring him to any place he wanted to be. Just that the last time he used it like that, it lead him to Charlotte instead of to Zagam. Bruce didn’t have high hopes to meet his friend Alixon again this way after this event happened, but the least he could do for her was to give it a try.

Closing his white eyes, he thought of her hideout, the last place he’s seen her. The traveller was set on time, space, and dimension, so wherever the shift lead the villain, he should be able to get there. Finally, Bruce pushed the button on the metallic, blinking device attached to his wrist. Gravity decreased as it did always when he travelled like that; but soon enough his bare feet lowered on the ground again. There was no carpet like back at his home now, but cold cement stretching under his feet.

Bruce looked up. This … did look like a villain hideout. Was he close? The batman took a cautious step forward and kept looking around, scanning the place.

J was working in his office trying to make some plans… But barely anything came to mind.

He let out a loud growl of annoyance from this

A sigh. Bruce’ head turned to the direction, his big ears perking up at the noise. Its source wasn’t far. But it was still … way too quiet. He wished there was an explosion. Alixon wasn’t the type to be in silence. Without making a sound himself though, Bruce sneaked up to the room in question. There was someone inside. He could hear them breathe and their heart beating. He was just too nervous to go take a look. What when she remembered him more intimidating than he was and would look at him all disappointed? So he stayed outside, next to the door but still hidden. “ … … … Al?” he asked eventually.

J got up now. “Wha? Who’s there!!! I know I heard something so who’s here !!” he shouts now running out of the office and into the hallway.

"…..Hello???“

Ah! It wasn’t Al. It was someone angry. Which was like Al, yes, but … it wasn’t her. Like the giant mouse he was, Bruce darted along the wall and hunched into the next best dark corner. With bright white eyes that stood out against the dark he stared at the … … clown? WHAT?

He did eventually notice him.. What…??

”…May I ask who YOU are?“ he asks cautiously.

"Who are you??” he asked again moving to walk up to the other

Oh-oh. Bruce whimpered and tried to move impossibly further to the back with the other one approaching. “I’m a … fan of personal space” he would say, first of all.

He glared at him.

“Heh. Well I’m a fan of not breaking into people’s bases!!” he shouts narrowing his eyes at him.

"Now I won’t hurt ya. I just wanna know who ya are?“

Bruce swallowed and gave that a thought. "Okay” he figured eventually. Humans scared the batman. But this one was dressing like a clown so he won’t appear as scary. That was nice. “I didn’t mean to break into your base but … a friends. And my name is Bruce. I’m just a batman. Little lost. Nothing to be scared of” he added, his voice getting quieter and quieter as he kept talking.

Looking at the other he blinked.

“You’re…a different Batman?? But…you’re so much different.. Like a real bat ..” he said sounding shocked.

"….Hello.. I’m Joker. “ he said now holding out a hand and smiling

A different … batman? Bruce put his head askance, unsure about that. He looked at the offered hand and back at the man’s face. He wondered what he looked like without the make-up.

"That’s … a nice name” he found. Joker, like someone who made people laugh. The batman felt a little more at ease with that. Smiling slightly and grateful for the welcome, he reached for the others hand to shake it.

He smiled as the other shook his hand.

"So uh…what brings you here? Do you need something? Food? Shelter?“ he asked curiously

"You are so generous” Bruce found, truly touched by the hospitality he was receiving. “But no. I was just trying to find a friend. They’re a villain - But they’re good at heart” he added, not meaning to give the Joker a scare. “The teleport should have brought me to them, but it lead me to you for some reason. I’m sorry … ” he assured, truly not meaning to disturb.

He sighed. “Well that’s ok… I never get any visitors or company so…maybe you can stay here with me for a bit hm?” he asked curiously

“Where are you from?” he asked

Well, he wouldn’t mind to make more friends. He was here already and Joker? - seemed real nice.

“Metro City.” Bruce answered short. He moved now that he felt more at ease, his eyes wandering across the place that he had no time yet to explore. Did Joker live here or did he just go here now and then? “Technically, Gotham. But … when you’re asking about my appearance, another planet is the answer.” He didn’t feel shy admitting that.

He nods. “..you can stay here right? I get so bored and lonely I seriously could use someone to talk to and get my mind off things” he admits with a shrug.

“I’d like that.” With his big ears, it was easy for Bruce to hear what was said, but so also couldn’t help but notice that Joker didn’t share much about himself. Maybe he would open up? “I mean, I must have been drawn here … for a reason.” Yeah. Once figured out, he could concentrate better to reach Al, eventually.

“I suppose so yeah.” he shrugged.

"So uh..whatcha wanna talk about? “ he asked. It was getting late.. J stood up now to try and find somewhere for the other to sleep

"Ummm … ” There was a bunch of things, so it was hard to pick. “You mentioned another batman?”

“..yeah. He’s a crime fighter thing. Looks a lot different than you. I’m his enemy though” he explained

“Oh you’re like nemesis?” Bruce asked, face beaming with joy. His wings opened as he followed Joker around, curious where he was going.

He shrugged. “Yeah. But… I mean.. I don’t hate him. He hates me. I well… Heh, frankly I adore him” he admits face going a light red for a bit.

“I’m uh..trying to find you somewhere to sleep. I only have the one bed… But I could let you take it if you want”

Wasn’t this the most heartbreaking story that he ever heard.

“I’m technically nocturnal. Don’t worry” he assured. He could already picture guarding the place while Joker was resting, really. “And oh, that sounds like me and Al. Before we got friends. She was the one to not like me, though.” Ah, old times!

He nods.

“…well I don’t blame him for hating me. I’m crazy. I hurt him and fight him and all of his little family” he shrugged

Bruce waved that off. “Al tossed me on a dump once. I nearly drowned that night, too” he remembered. “It’s what villains do” he tried to soothe Joker.

He shrugged. “Yeah But that doesn’t make the heroes like you.” He frowned.

"78 years I’ve been trying at this shit. In multiple different universes all over “

"I’d not … ” - Wait, what? Oh! He was joking. It was in the name. It was a weird joke though, that left Bruce only frowning. “I’d not go so far as to call me a hero” he finished the thought, scratching his neck. “Is this some kind of factory?” he asked just as a side note.

“Yes. It’s an old toy factory” he admits with a smile.

“I’ve only ever lived in places like this. ”

“Abandoned ones? I like the silence.” Who had guessed? They had some things in common. “Do you ever get some kids sneaking in on Halloween?” Bruce asked, smiling wide.

J sighed. “All the time. But then.they seem me and freak. Haha that’s why I wear some make up lately. I’m tired of trying to talk to people only to hear screams”

“Yeah! Imagine trying to be a hero when you are a giant bat! They scream and run and I just try to help” he complained. “I think that makeup’s working really good on you though. Did you try candy, too? Everybody loves candy.” As if to prove his point, he pulled a small see-through bag with star-shaped gummies out of his coat.

He blinked as he spoke. “Well heh… You haven’t seen me without it.”

He seemed to tilt his head as he spoke of candy. “Candy? Heheh I like candy.. ” he grinned

“See?” Phew! Truth be told, there were plenty people who didn’t like sweet treats. But for humans it was quite foolproof. “You want it? I yet have to give a hospitality gift.” Or so he found.

“….a hospitality gift? You don’t owe me nothin’ but I’ll.take the candy if you’re willing to give it” he smiled now.

“Giving away is what I make it for” Bruce insisted, handing it over happily.

He nods slowly, taking the candy. “You make it? He asked as he began to take some pieces and eat them

"Mhm” Bruce affirmed with a hum. “My parents made candy. So … I figured I at least have to give it a try and before you know it, there is no going back” he chuckled.

He nods slowly. “Well it’s very good” he complimented with a smile.

He was too happy than to be able to reply right away. Instead, Bruce played with his hands until he’d eventually manage to say: “Thank you.”

He smiled. “No problem.” he said simply as he walked into his room.

Bruce followed straight away. Who knew, maybe Joker would say more of such nice things after a while? “What did I disturb you on earlier, by the way? You seemed unhappy.” He’d kind of like to help.

“…oh..just trying to think of a new plan to destroy my beloved hero.” he giggled.

"No such luck yet"

“You say beloved and then that you want to destroy him.” Bruce only repeated what he heard, and what he haerd was quite paradoxic.

J nods. “Yes. I’m very confusing. See I know I will ACTUALLY get rid of him”

“You’ll defeat the hero?” Sounded like a story he heard about. Listening curiously, Bruce still went to explore this new part Joker showed him.

#Bruce RP #Bruce and Joker RP #I read this again and I still love this so much #Sweet Nemesis #idk about the title

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