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fleckficgirl · 2 months

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Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 12

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 2093

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Arthur's Note (see what I did there?): Thanks every so so much for the kind words and encouragement. I didn't realize the new trailer was coming out today but I started writing this fic again about a week ago and I think I'm on a roll! I <3 Arthur Fleck so much and hope you enjoy!

Arthur had insisted on walking you home, had kissed you again at the front door of your apartment building and promised to call you the next morning; you both had the next day off and planned to see each other.

When he pressed his body into you. You could feel he was hard, but restraining himself. Arthur was nothing if not a gentleman. It only made you love him more.

“I'll call you in the morning,” he hummed into your ear.

“First thing in the morning,” you corrected him with a sly grin.

Arthur smiled, blushing. “First thing in the morning.”

You hated to pull yourself away from him. It was crazy: You'd never cared that much about sex, but for the first time in your life, you understood what it felt like to want to ask someone upstairs, what it felt like to actually want someone to spend the night in your bed. But of course, you had your parents to think about and they'd never go for it in a million years.

Arthur watched you get into the elevator. When the doors closed, you felt like you might cry. Reminding yourself you were gonna see him again in twelve hours was the only thing that put your longing heart at ease.

***

It was almost midnight, and your parents usually went to bed around ten, so you were surprised to find them both sitting up on the sofa in the living room, watching what had to be the last half hour of The Murray Franklin Show. They never watched Murray. They never even stayed up this late.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you locked the front door and hung your coat up.

“We’ve been worried sick!” your mother cried as your dad muted the television.

Oh boy. This was already off to a great start.

“Why?” you asked, cocking your head to one side. “I mean, I know it’s almost midnight, but-”

“There’s been another killing on the subways,” she continued. “They think it’s related to what happened to those three Wayne boys a few days ago.”

“You’re kidding,” you sat down on the sofa to face them. “Who’d they kill?”

“A man,” your father answered. “But they don’t know anything else yet. You were out all night and didn’t hear anything about this?”

You shook your head. “No. But it’s getting crazier out there.”

“What exactly did you do tonight?” your father raised an eyebrow.

“Met up with friends,” you answered breezily. Technically you weren’t lying. Arthur was a friend. Sort of.

“That’s interesting,” he continued, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Because those so-called girlfriends of yours called here looking for you. Two different times in fact.”

“They did?”

You gulped, trying to scan your mother's face for some kind of hint to help you navigate the choppy waters of your father’s suspicions. But her “worried sick” face had morphed into her “I’m just gonna stay out of it and keep the peace” face.

Typically a bad sign.

“First Tina and then that other girl…” your father said. “The one with the silly name…”

He looked to your mother who shrugged in response.

“Chantelle,” he finally remembered. And Chantelle said she was calling to find out how your ‘hot date’ went tonight.”

Damn that Chantelle. You knew she had a champagne-and-dial addiction - it was why she was still hooking up with at least five of her ex-boyfriends - but you could still murder her ten times with a hatchet. She had no idea how crazy your dad was.

“I told your father it must have been some kind of practical joke,” your mother finally interjected. “You know, those telephone pranks kids these days like to play on one another?”

You could see she was trying to help you out. And for one crazy second, you considered telling them the truth:

Mom, Dad…I’m in love with a beautiful clown.

No, that wouldn’t go over well at all. They’d hit the roof. In fact, they'd go through the roof.

The less you said about Arthur the better. At least for the time being.

“I did go out with friends,” you explained in as even a tone as you could muster. “I don’t know what Chantelle’s talking about.”

“Which friends?” your mother asked.

“Just some friends…from…from…” you struggled to complete the sentence. You never went anywhere besides work these days, so where the hell would you meet any other friends?

“Some friends from GU?” your mother asked hopefully.

It was perfect. You could have kissed her right then and there. Saved by the mama.

“Yes!” you nodded. “Yes, some friends from college.”

“Honey, that's wonderful!” your mother smiled.

Your father nodded approvingly. “Those are the kinds of people you should be spending time with. People who are serious about their future…as opposed to a couple of strippers.”

“They’re not strippers, Dad!”

He smiled at his own dumb joke and you pursed your lips. Your father never approved of anyone if he didn’t deem them “serious about their future.” The problem was, most of the kids you’d met at Gotham University were entitled assholes from rich families who didn’t actually care about their futures: no matter how badly they fucked up, their privileged parents could afford to yank them out of hot water and they knew it. Your dad had it all wrong. But you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“How come you look so disheveled?” your father’s voice broke into your thoughts once more.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He pointed at your rumpled clothes.

“Your outfit’s wrinkled, your hair’s a mess. And your makeup…”

“Did something happen tonight, honey?” your mother asked. You could sense the growing concern in both their voices, and it brought you right back to when you’d started having problems at GU. Your poor parents had to watch as their star student daughter - who’d never given them a lick of trouble - suddenly turned into someone they didn’t recognize. Someone they were afraid of.

“Sweetheart,” your mother prodded gently. “You didn’t happen to get into a…a fight or an altercation with anyone tonight, did you?”

You shook your head and laughed, trying your best to put them at ease. “Not that I can remember.”

It was a true enough answer. More true than they needed to know, anyway.

“You can tell us if you’re…struggling,” your father added. “We want to know if something’s going on.”

You shook your head again. “What happened was, the subway was totally jam packed. Maybe it had to do with the killing tonight, I dunno. Anyway, we were stuffed like sardines. I got all pushed around on the train. You know how the people in this city can be.”

“Fucking animals,” he muttered under his breath. You glanced up at the TV where a still-muted Murray seemed to be delivering his closing words. “You’re alright though, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” you assured them both. “Nothing a shower and some shampoo can’t fix.”

You breathed a concealed sigh of relief as you watched your parents breathe one of their own.

You popped up from the sofa and stretched.

“Gonna get ready for bed,” you announced. “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, sweetie,” your mom called out. “We love you.”

“Love you, too.”

You turned to go to your room and heard your dad unmute the TV, Murray Franklin’s voice ringing out over the orchestra as an organ struck up the groovy chords from his signature closing song:

“Goodnight, and always remember: That’s life!”

You laughed softly to yourself. “That’s life!” you whispered as you dance-glided down the hall and into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Life really was something, wasn’t it? Especially life in Gotham, a life like yours: one that now had a beautiful man named Arthur Fleck in it.

After the crazy night you’d had, the shower felt like a balm to your soul. You crawled under the cool covers of your bed, still giddy from your date with Arthur and the promise of seeing him tomorrow. As you drifted off to dreamland, you thought about even though your parents drove you up the wall, you loved them and would do anything for them. You hated the toll your problems at GU had had on them - how scared and defenseless they’d been, not knowing how to help you when the shit hit the fan. They didn’t have the resources and privileges of your ex-classmates’ parents, but they’d stood behind you when no one else had. You’d never forget that.

After the nightmare at Gotham U - after everything it’d put you and the people you loved through - you’d vowed to yourself that you’d never be powerless again.

Although you felt powerless to stop the freight train of emotions you felt for Arthur, you decided he was a worthy exception. Arthur also knew what powerlessness felt like. He wasn't like the rest of them. He was the salt of the earth, just like your parents. Just like you.

And as long as you and Arthur had each other’s backs, you told yourself as sleep enveloped your being, nothing could ever take either of your power away again.

Together, you were unstoppable.

***

The phone rang first thing in the morning, just as Arthur promised. Thank GOD your bedroom had its own phone line.

“Hey you!” you answered playfully on the first ring.

“There you are. We’ve been calling you, bitch!”

“Chantelle?” you paused, your breath hitching.

“And Tina’s here,” Chantelle said. “We’re at Ha-Ha’s. You didn’t call either of us back last night so we decided to ambush you first thing in the morning.”

“Oh yeah,” you shook your head. “And by the way, thanks a lot for telling my dad about my ‘hot date’ last night. He was real happy to confront me about that when I got home.”

“So you did come home last night!” Chantelle gasped.

“I told you a million times!” Tina’s annoyed voice rang out in the background. “She wasn’t gonna have sex with him on the first date.”

“So how was it?” Chantelle asked. “Tell us everything!”

“It was…great,” you answered. “He’s…wonderful.”

Chantelle squealed. “Y/N’s going out with a college boy!” She sang.

“Let’s not blow this out of proportion,” Tina countered. “College boys are a dime a dozen. And most of ‘em wouldn’t know how to please a woman even if they majored in it. Gimme the phone, Chantelle.”

You heard the receiver scuffle on their end and Tina’s no-nonsense voice rang in your ear.

“How was the outfit, hair and makeup?” she demanded. “Any mishaps?”

You paused. It would take too long to explain the whole blacking out thing to them, you reasoned. And you didn’t want them to worry.

“Everything went fine,” you said. “You guys did a great job. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I have some very exciting ideas for the next date outfit,” Tina said. “When are you getting here? I’ll fill you in. We’ll try on some samples.”

“I’m off today!” you sang into the phone. “And I’m actually seeing him again this afternoon.”

“What? You slut!”

Chantelle grabbed the phone back. “You’re seeing him again? So soon? Oh my goodness, Y/N, I feel like you’re gonna marry this guy.”

You heard Tina groan in disgust behind Chantelle before snatching the phone back again.

“Then my outfit ideas will have to wait for your third date,” Tina said. “Assuming there is one. What were you planning on wearing today?”

“I dunno,” you glanced around your messy room helplessly. “I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Okay, listen to me, Y/N. You’re an autumn. That means warm skin tones. Understand?”

“Warm skin tones,” you repeated back, even though you had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

“I’m talking greens, I’m talking yellows…come to think of it: do you have anything in peach?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Black is fine. Accessorize with those gold hoop earrings. A full face of makeup just like we showed you. But go easy on the blusher, for the love of God.”

“Thanks, Tina.” You laughed.

“Shit. Hoyt’s coming,” Tina warned. “Call us immediately after today’s date ends. We need a detailed play by play so we can mastermind the plan for date number three.”

“I thought you said these college boys were a dime a dozen,” you countered.

“Mastermind your outfit for date number three,” Tina corrected herself. “If you’re gonna date a college douche, the least you can walk away with is a killer wardrobe.”

lmk if you want to be tagged!

✨ Tag list: @fallon779 @mamaferretart @cherryboss713 @lolwey

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marksbear · 2 years

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Hey Mark! I just finish watching Joker for the third time or so and was wondering if you could do Male reader x Arthur fleck. Just bit angst and large amount of fluff. Reader and Arthur are boyfriends but one day while having a visit with his therapist Arthur told his thearpist about reader, however his therapist convince Arthur that he is just hallucinating to the point where he really think that reder is not real. Arthur have a breakdown when he got back to his apartment. reader comforts arthur.😊

-B

Hey B! Hope you enjoy my friend.

Warnings! Fluff to angst back to fluff, Y/n is an uncle in a big family, Old lady manipulate Arthur/

ARTHUR FLECK X MALE READER

Y/n and Arthur truly did love each other. Y/n was always with him during his good and bad days. He always made sure Arthur felt good and happy for almost everything. Y/n supported Arthur during everything even when he tried to be a comedian he was still there for him. Y/n even fought for him but Arthur doesn't know that!

Right now the couple is bowling with Y/n family. Arthur was a bit nervous at first with Y/n family but was quickly accepted by the family. Y/n parents calling Arthur son and Y/n siblings and their kids calling him "the extra L/n" Which was cute to the couple.

Arthur didn't realize what was the time until Y/n dad asked his wife what was the time. "Uhh its 3:45 hun." She says to her husband. Arthur quickly freaks out and walks to Y/n who's talking to his niece that's on his lap. "Y/n.. I gotta go to y'know..." Y/n looks at his boyfriend and nods "Okay kid go to your other uncles." His niece hops off his lap running to her other uncles to bother them. Y/n takes Arthur's hand gently tells his family. "Okay everyone I know yall are gonna miss Uncle Arthur and I but we gotta go." They all say bye to the couple and the couple leaves the building going into Y/n car. Arthur gets into the passenger seat while Y/n starts the car and drives to his boyfriend's appointment. As they drive Y/n places his hand on his boyfriend's small thigh turning to him a little with a smile before kept focusing on the road.

Once the couple gets there Y/n stops the car and turns it off and gently wakes up his sleeping boyfriend. "Hey Art we made it." You whisper into his ear before tickling him awake. Arthur quickly wakes up giggling and gasping Y/n to stop. Y/n finally stops when he sees Arthur's eyes begin to water. "Good morning handsome." Y/n says teasing his boyfriend leaning to him kissing him.

Y/n leaves gentle and soft kisses all over Arthur's face as encouragement for him during his session. Arthur gladly takes his boyfriend kisses. "Okayy! Y/n I have to go!" Arthur makes sure he has all of his things with him and gives Y/n one passionate kiss on the lips before getting out of the car. "Wait Art!" Arthur turns around facing his boyfriend about to shut the door. "I love you!~" Y/n sings to him with a loving smile. "I love you too!" Arthur says back closing the door.

Y/n watches Arthur enter the building before starting the car again driving back to the shared apartment.

Arthur walks to his therapist room apologizing for being late. The session starts as regular questions and all that. Like "How are you Arthur have you been taking your medication?" and "What have you been doing this whole week." And Arthur answers with his usual short answers. But the woman notices some of the stories are missing some things and asks "Who were you with during this past week. Some of your stories are missing something or well really someone." Arthur stares at her for a while before a small smile appears.

A real smile escapes from his lips and mumbles under his breath. "Y/n and his family." The woman almost didn't hear it but she caught it. "And who is this Y/n?" Arthur face beams with a smile of the mention of Y/n. "Hes my boyfriend." Arthur says all giddy about his boyfriend. "When did you two meet?" She asked. "About six or seven months ago...but we just got together about like three months ago." He answers fidgeting with his hand and smiling down.

The woman opens her flies about Y/n and scans through them. "Arthur are you sure hes real. I mean you'd never mentioned him once and all of a sudden hes here now." Arthur gets taken back by the question but quickly answers with "Yeah hes real! i'm not that crazy... Hes my Y/n I even met his family!" "Arthur. For the past months you've been saying that you felt alone in this world. Maybe now your mind is making you imagine this "Y/n" guy as a defensive reaction so you won't go fully mad." Arthur stares at her before quickly standing up pacing around the room mumbling "Liar" and "No,no,no" The woman tries to get Arthur to sit back down but fails once Arthur runs out of the room.

Arthur goes to the bus stop still repeating "No,no" under his breath shaking and almost crying at the point that he actually is mad. Once the bus comes he goes to the back crying to himself on the window that Y/n his perfect Y/n isn't with him. Once it's his stop he rushes off the bus going to his apartment. He looks around for Y/n car but doesn't see it anywhere. He quickly gets in the apartment rushing to the elevator and basically smashing the buttons to go to his floor. Once they arrive at the floor he runs to his room unlocking the door and closing it and locks it behind him. "Y/n! no no noo! Y/n where are you!" He walks around the apartment looking for anything that proves that you're actually real.

But he sadly doesn't find anything and falls to the ground crying and beating the floor. He lays there for hours crying onto the floor not noticing the door being unlocked and a "Art you here?" Y/n walks around the place looking for his boyfriend but once he finds him almost half passed out gasping for air and crying. You quickly wrap him in your arms and your hands running up and down his back. "Shh. Sh. Baby don't cry what's the matter?"

Once Arthur hears your voice he immediately brings Y/n into a tight hug whimpering and crying onto him. "Y-you are real..." Y/n hears him cry into his shoulder. "Yes baby... I am real and I don't plan on going anytime soon.

THE END

#joker x male reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x male reader #x male reader #dc x male reader #the bear club

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whokows-anymore · 8 months

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Sideshow Bob headcanons!!

- has a very basic skincare routine, basically just the essentials and nothing else. (Either it's that or it's everything under the sun and I can't decide)

- Favorite color is red velvet

- was bullied a lot as a kid

- now he holds the most ridiculous grudges over the most little things!!

- he has several house plants

- Really hates the people who get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of a live show ("sit the hell back down you imbecile, there's a live production going on and I'm not going to miss it because you have the bladder of a toddler!")

- has a very minor cigarette addiction (somewhere between Sodapop Curtis and Arthur Fleck)

- He tries not to show it but he's almost always somewhere between tired and stressed - it's why he's always got eye bags even though he's in his 30's

- bi. fight me.

- He was the most theatre kid you will ever meet. Also he never grew out of it :/

- his hair is actually so soft and nice and barely tangled at all somehow.

- He's mixed (his mom is black and his dad is white obv) but a lot of people made fun of him and Cecil for it :,(

- he's 38

- he has bipolar and tries to keep it a secret to the extent where only his immediate family knows about it (Lisa figured it out on her own time though)

- Is mostly confident in his appearance (Cecil still bullies him for having a belly tho)

- He puts an obscene amount of honey in his tea

- salted caramel bitch. Will do almost anything to get his hands on it

- has a really shitty immune system and gets sick so often it's pathetic

#the simpsons #sideshow bob #robert terwilliger #headcanons #sideshow bob headcanons #it's a Sunday and I'm sad #I don't wanna go be a person tomorrow

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koolkat9 · 5 months

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Birthday Fic

Rating: T

Relationship: England + Wales + Canada + America

Word Count: 968

Read on AO3

Five to Twenty-Five

“What are you doing, Uncle Dylan?”

A voice as soft and sweet as the buttercream he was currently mixing called. Two blue eyes with flecks of purple peeked out of the left side of the doorframe.

“Oh, Matthew!“ Just in time,” Dylan beamed. “I’m making your father's favourite cake for his birthday, and I could use a taste tester.”

The eyes lit up. "Really?"

Dylan giggled. “Of course! Now come, come.”

He scooped some of the frosting on the spoon and brought it down to Matthew. The boy took a cautious lick. He let out an excited ‘mmm’ before cleaning the spoon of the white, fluffy goodness.

“I take it I did a good job?”

Matthew nodded eagerly.

Dylan put the bowl to the side and checked on the cake in the oven. Matthew crept closer, trying to catch a peek.

“Can I help?” Matthew asked.

“ Well…Unfortunately, the cake is almost done.”

Matthew’s face fell, head hanging low.

“But, you can help me with the icing,” Dylan quickly added, crouching down to be at the boy’s level.

“Okay!”

Dylan picked Matthew up to wash his hands before setting up a stepping stool, so he could reach the counter. Matthew eyed the bowl of buttercream next to him, little fingers crawling over to it.

“Ah ah ah,” Dylan tisked, though there was a playful smile on his lips. “You’ll get a belly ache, and we may not have enough to finish Dad’s cake.”

Matthew curled back.

“But perhaps you can lick the spatulas when we’re done,” Dylan suggested, booping Matthew’s nose.

He turned back to the oven and checked on the cake. Deeming it cooked, he pulled it out and brought it over to the counter. “Now we have to get going if we want to finish before your father gets back.”

Matthew grabbed a nearby spatula and straightened up like some soldier baker. Dylan couldn’t help but laugh, grabbing his own spatula and taking a similar stance.

— — —

When Arthur returned home with Alfred from a morning of grocery shopping he heard giggling and shushing in the kitchen. Alfred had already scurried upstairs to collect his favourite stuffed animal he had forgotten to grab for their trip, leaving Arthur to investigate alone.

Dylan and Matthew were hunched over the counter, Dylan with a finger to his lips, smiling at a grinning, giggling Matthew.

Arthur leaned on the door frame, smirking to himself. “And what are you two up to?”

“Nothing,” they quickly said in unison.

They turned to Arthur, straightening up but still concealing the counter. Arthur squinted.

“Where’s Alfred?” Dylan asked.

“Upstairs. He forgot Barnaby.”

“Ah.”

“But really,” Arthur went on, “What are you planning? Corrupting my innocent, gentle Matthew?”

Dylan gave a dramatic scoff. “I would never. But you’ll see when Alfred comes down.”

“Fine…”

Moments later, Alfred came bouncing in, his bunny stuffed animal squeezed under his armpit. He only froze mid-way into the kitchen to sniff.

“Something smells good,” he exclaimed, looking around to find the source.

Matthew looked over to Dylan who nodded. The two pulled away to reveal the cake, now covered in pale green icing with frosted white roses along the edge. In the center, sat one of those candle signs reading: We stopped counting. Surely Dylan’s choice despite being the eldest brother.

“Happy birthday!” Matthew cheered, running to Arthur. Arthur scooped the boy up, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured.

“You made a cake without me?” Alfred whined, approaching Dylan.

“You wanted to go grocery shopping with your dad,” Dylan tutted, ruffling Alfred’s hair. “But you can still help us eat it. First though…”

He looked over to Arthur, who was trying to hide a growing grin. Dylan rummaged through the drawer for a lighter and lit the three wicks of the candle. Stepping away, he pulled Alfred with him to give room for Arthur.

With Matthew still in his arms, Arthur leaned down and blew out the candles. When he was done, Matthew hugged him tightly. Dylan and Alfred joined him in shouting ‘Happy birthday’ once more.

“Now, time for cake!” Alfred demanded, running back to the counter. He tried to swipe a bit of icing, but Dylan quickly grabbed the cake first.

“Alfred,” Arthur barked, “You were so good this morning. Don’t start acting up now. Patience.”

Alfred pouted, wandering to the corner with crossed arms. But it wasn’t long before he was rushing back over to get a piece when the cake was finally cut.

“That boy and his moods,” Arthur huffed, taking a bite of his cake.

“Just like his daddy,” Dylan teased, pinching his baby brother’s cheek.

“Quit it!” Arthur waved the hand away.

They watched the two boys eat their cake and Alfred telling Matthew all about the harrowing tale of his trip to the grocery store.

“I still remember when you were five,” Dylan mused. “Always following me around, wanting to play wizards or fairies. And now you’re twenty-five.”

“Please don’t get sentimental on me,” Arthur groaned.

Dylan only laughed, ruffling Arthur’s hair like he did when they were kids. Arthur growled in annoyance, fluffing up his hair into its proper mess.

“Thank you, for all of this,” Arthur whispered.

“It’s what brothers do.” A wide smile spread across Dylan’s face, wrapping an arm around Arthur. “But I can’t take all the credit. Matthew did help me get the icing done in time.”

“Well, remind me to thank him later.”

The two turned back to the boys. Alfred was now a mess of green and white icing, and Matthew was trying not to laugh at him. Arthur sighed.

“I got it,” Dylan intervened, already grabbing some paper towels. “You go get some more cake.”

Arthur gave a thankful smile before cutting himself some more cake.

#hetalia #hws #hws canada #hws wales #hws england #hws america #ace family #na bros #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #my writing #birthday fic

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fleckcmscott · 9 months

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Haunted Heart

Summary: Mabel invites the Flecks to visit for the holidays. On Halloween, more than trick or treats await them.

Words: 5,606

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: In this oneshot (twoshot? 🤫), I wanted to revisit Y/N's family in Missouri, catch up on how Mabel and Ed are doing, and give Arthur a new way to celebrate the holidays. This Halloween story is a tad late, but I hope you all still enjoy it. 😊 Much gratitude to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing and @sweet-nothings04 for her kind support and encouragement. 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

The notion had sprung from Mabel's gut, not her head. Flown out of her mouth like one of Jason's fastballs flying past home plate.

"Why don't you and Arthur come down for the holidays?"

The plea disguised as a question hung, waited. Tick-tocked in the air and her heart. A sitcom's muffled dialogue came from the other end of the phone line, canned laughter directed squarely at her. The tap of Y/N's fingernails on Bakelite. Once. Twice.

Silence pushed Mabel to continue the sales pitch of the year. "Two weeks would be enough time to do Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. We'd be happy to have you stay here, if you're ready to try that again. Not that before was your fault, I mean- That's not what I mean." Shut up, shut up, shut up!

The airy idea had taken on the sudden heaviness of urgency, paired with an awareness of how much she craved this, how much she had to make up for. Yeah, Y/N had forgiven her. But the wheels of self-forgiveness spun at two miles at hour. And though her sister wasn't one for drawn out heart to hearts, Mabel felt an acute need for amends.

It manifested at the oddest times. When Ashley had taken her first steps, and Mabel realized Y/N had witnessed their dad's last. Or when Jason had gone to the prom, and his date's baby blue dress had reminded Mabel that she'd missed Y/N's wedding. The Widow Brown shuffling through the produce section with her walker; catching Murray Franklin with Ed; card games on family nights, new since Ed's demotion. They induced the pang of not being there. Of not having been there.

The last two years they'd made real process. Weekly calls and surprise cards and quite a few I love yous. They continued to work their way back to each other.

Last summer, Mabel had downed a mint mojito in the airport bar, clung to Ed and the kids, and boarded a plane to the Great Wilds of Gotham, where Y/N and Arthur let them further into their lives. Shown them Dube & Ellis's office building, the city's zoo and botanical gardens, and Amusement Mile. They'd even made reservations at a fancy Italian joint called Bamonte's and caught a show at Pogo's.

At Gotham Beach, Y/N had taught Brian how to skip stones, and Ruthie had returned her magic coin to Arthur. Running down the shore, Ed held Ashley above him like an airplane, zoom zooming all the way. For the first time, Mabel had seen the ocean. Standing on the rocky beach, toes digging into broken shells and jagged pebbles, the water was endless. So vast it could have swallowed her up.

Starting, she'd stumbled back, feeling foolish for never being the type of girl to leave home.

She folded deeper into the den's easy chair, squished herself into the worn leather. "We just love you and would love to see you again."

A click of the tongue across the miles. "I don't see why not. It's one of Arthur's busier seasons, but he doesn't take enough time off, anyway. I'll talk with him. We'd love to see you, too."

Mabel rushed out a breath she definitely knew she was holding. "Really?"

"Yes!" Bright laughter that dimmed to an ahem. "I...can't make any promises about our parents or going to Sunset Hills. Please don't ask me to visit. If I can, I'll tell you. All right?"

Mabel's chest tightened. At least getting this out of the way would result in fewer eggshells. The curly phone cord wound between her knuckles. "All right. I hope to make the bed for you soon."

~~~~~

Arthur couldn't have agreed faster than if Y/N had asked him to marry her (which he would do again and again and again.) Spending the holidays in the countryside? With his nephews and nieces and in-laws? Even without snow, the celebration would be worthy of an Irving Berlin song, a postcard to paste in his journal.

And, after the tidal wave of their last visit, he'd get to see how Y/N would do.

When she'd mentioned the trip, there'd been none of the pursed lips, the fleeting fear, the cryptic conversation that'd made him wonder what she was hiding. Just a simple matter-of-factness that her family was worth having to make small talk with perfectly nice people she never wanted to see again. A weird notion, yeah, but within her realm of weird, the same realm that made her love Gotham and him.

On the flight down, he turned to a fresh page and jotted a title in the top margin: "Our Trip to Missorie."

Welcoming and warm, Mabel and Ed were as kind as Arthur remembered, an imprint on his heart. Before they had a chance to drop their suitcases, Ruthie and Brian rushed them for hugs, while Jason held back in the way happening teenagers do. Sitting on the play rug in the corner of the living room, Ashley waved and smiled. "Hi! Who you guys?" Hard to believe they'd fed and rocked her a blink of an eye ago.

With Halloween only two days away, they got right to work.

Having an entire porch to decorate, an honest-to-goodness front yard, tickled Arthur's mind, made it whir with creative flair. Not that he didn't love the small touches Y/N put together back home. Die-cut cardboard cutouts on the windows, a jack-o-lantern he lit and set outside the door. How her cat costume cradled her curves and that teasing tail.

Their celebrations were sweet and understated, wholeheartedly them. But compared to an apartment, the possibilities here were endless.

On the way to the supermarket, they'd stopped at a clapboard farmhouse that took the holiday as seriously as evening news. Spooky sounds echoed, an audio effects cassette on infinite loop, howls and screams that prompted a shiver even in the day. Plywoods gravestones - at least a dozen - loomed over coffins, from which rubber masked ghouls climbed. A hooded creature lurked behind a crooked tree, a scythe in its skeletal hand. A guestbook lay open on a music stand by a makeshift crypt.

Arthur declined to sign. Instead, he chose a friendly competition.

"Miller's has cornstalks for sale," Mabel said. She and Arthur were in the basement, digging through box after box of goodies. "We can get some this afternoon. Hay, too. But we'll want to decorate tomorrow - the squirrels'll tear it up, otherwise." She knelt by a plastic milk crate of props and lifted a rubber rat by its tail. "This'll look good on the stairs."

He blew dust from the ears of a blow mold horned owl. "I don't understand how you can love Halloween but Y/N doesn't."

A pause, a gulp loud enough to make him turn. "The kids help," Mabel began. "The first year Jason was supposed to go trick-or-treating, he had a fever of a hundred and two. The poor thing wore his Daffy Duck costume and watched cartoons. Arthur, look at this."

Scooting beside her, he studied the object in her hands. A pumpkin shaped doily, vines winding into curlicues at the edges. It'd ridden in directly from the fifties, akin to Y/N's needlepoint apron, the one her mother hadn't gotten to finish. Mabel's fingers curled as though holding a fragile treasure, stained-glass that'd been cloaked in dirt for too long.

When his gaze met hers, there was melancholy mixed with merry. "Do you wanna use it?" he asked, indicating it with his chin.

"Yeah." Thumbs caressed the seams once more. "Mom would hang it on the door after we carved pumpkins. Did Y/N tell you about that?"

"She doesn't talk a lot about the holidays." A grimace twisted the corner of Mabel's mouth. Leaning into one of the earliest lessons he'd learned, he sought to cheer her, raised a palm in a Hold On gesture. "She tells me more than she used to - about you and your mom and dad. But I think it's still hard. Please. Don't be upset with her."

"I'm not, not at all." Mabel said with an emphatic shake of her head. But she didn't meet his gaze. "What did you do last year?"

The tastes and sounds and sensations of that evening roared through his head and heart. He sought to keep his cheeks from turning crimson through sheer will. "Um. Worked on one of her cases and baked a cake." He cleared his throat twice. "She does like to catch B-Movies on TV in October."

Mabel chuckled. "That's an old tradition. One night she took me to see The Blob at the drive-in. She was always so refined and smart - I had no idea she had such bad taste."

"I don't like them, either. But I watch with her, try to plan something special, you know? Make it about us? There's a Grand Halloween Ball every year. At Wayne Hall. I'd love to take her there someday."

"But she'd have to get better at dancing."

A snort wrinkled his nose, shoulders raised in an agreeable shrug. "Well, loving her makes her easy to dance with. It's just it’s the one thing she's shy about."

"I love her, too." Mabel folded the doily into quarters, grabbed a steel support post, and pushed herself to her feet. "This should be enough to knock the neighbors dead. Help me lug all this upstairs."

~~~~~

"Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom!"

Brian rounded the bottom of the stairs. Careened into the kitchen. Skidded to a stop at the oval dining table, where Mabel, Y/N, and Arthur stood sorting candy. A plastic turtle shell, a repurposed sandbox cover, clattered to the floor. Frantic huffs and puffs that left Mabel wondering if she should grab a paper lunch bag and hold it to his mouth.

The boy pressed an orange strip of terrycloth to his forehead. "I can't tie it!" He pulled the ends past his ears for emphasis.

"Honey, slow down." It was just after breakfast, but the kids were determined to wear their costumes all day. She handed a quarter-filled paper treat bag to Arthur. Turned the boy around by the shoulders. "Where's dad?"

"In the bathroom. Ashley missed again."

Mabel rolled her neck from side to side. Though she adored the stork's little surprise, she'd assumed potty training would be behind her at forty. She'd double-wrap Ashley before sticking her in her pumpkin costume. "Put your dirty clothes in the hamper and I'll start the laundry." Mabel tied the terrycloth into a knot. "Did you find your pillowc-"

"Mommy!" Ruthie's plaintive cry from the downstairs bathroom. "I can't find my makeup!" An unsurprising development, given the last-minute switch from Strawberry Shortcake to Circus Ballerina.

Ensuring the headband wouldn't cut off circulation, Mabel stuck two fingers between it and the crown of Brian's head. "All set! Now get your clothes, then go help your sister."

"But my shell isn't on yet!" He pointed at the forlorn accessory.

"Brian, take a deep breath and count to five." Y/N crossed the linoleum to kneel next to the boy. She retrieved the fallen armor, instructed him to hold up both arms. Held his hands one by one to keep his elbows straight and slip it over his green sweatshirt. Once the shell was in place, she tightened the straps on his shoulders, tightened his belt to keep his plastic nunchaku in place.

"There you go," Y/N said, ruffling his caramel hair. "Now let's go find that makeup."

"I don't have green."

"Mommy!" Ruthie wobbled on the tightrope of excitement and panic.

A much-needed referee, Arthur stepped from behind the table. "I do. I have enough for Ruthie, too." He offered his hand to Brian, wiggled his fingers. When he took it, Arthur gave the quarter-filled bag to Y/N. "Save a treat for me," he said, flashing a grin as he was tugged out of the room.

Smiling softly, she studied the crinkly paper, where a scarecrow waved, clad in a top hat, plaid suit coat, and patched pants. "This looks like Arthur's Carnival costume."

On their vacation north, they'd gotten to meet the professional clown courtesy of a special street performance. Mabel opened a box of taffy. "Is that what he wears for Halloween?"

Y/N answered with a nod. "He works most of the day, usually one or two gigs." She dropped a few loose candy corns into the bag. "That reminds me. I've got to dig my cat costume out of my suitcase."

"Not this year, you don't." A skeptical glare shot Mabel's way. She cackled. "All will be revealed. Your hubby shared a smidge of what you two get up to. I'm glad you're making your own history."

"This is for him, mostly This is the one holiday he insisted on." Lower lip stuck between her teeth, Y/N looked in the direction Arthur had gone, gaze flitting back and forth. Then she leaned forward. "You heard what he said on Murray. I don't think he had many traditions growing up."

It was a truth Mabel had locked in her psyche, one that turned her throat to cotton.

"He likes looking through my photo album," Y/N continued. "We've gone through it probably six times. He asks about every single picture. What I got for Christmas that year, or what game we were playing, or what we had a picnic - he refuses to try egg salad sandwiches." Giggles dissolved to a tender hush. "Sometimes I think he wishes he was there. I don't blame him. His father wasn't around, Penny couldn't take care of or protect him.

"There's a file he took from Arkham - that's the state hospital in Gotham - about his mother and what happened to him. He doesn't know this, but I read everything in it, all of it. Part of me wishes I hadn't, but I had to know. What he went through, I-"

One long inhale, the rapid flutter of her lashes. "I know how hard it is to want to look back at happy times and not find them - even when they're there. We've put a lot behind us. It's nice to be able to appreciate Halloween again, to celebrate with someone who can enjoy it." Wincing, she shook her head. "I didn't mean how that sounded."

Lips pinched, Mabel put a bag in the white wicker treat basket. "You did and that's all right."

"I did love taking you house to house. Remember when you drove your bike into a pothole and scraped your knee?"

That hadn't hurt as badly as the scraping of Mabel's heart. After a moment, she pushed the weight of what she couldn't change off her back and went to her side. "You gave me a Clark bar while dad patched me up."

Y/N folded down the end of the treat bag to seal it shut. "Where are we taking the kids, anyway? The mall?"

"Absolutely not. It was a zoo last year." Stumbling through what must've been a thousand people, all for hard candies a grandmother would be ashamed to have in a lead glass dish on her coffee table. "The elementary school's having a fall carnival for the town. Jeff might be there. Would Arthur mind?"

"They met before and got along well enough to gossip about me." Y/N nestled her bag next to Mabel's, fingertips lingering at the seam.

"How have you been sleeping?" Mabel asked. It'd been a relief when Y/N had forgone a reservation at Four Acres, decided to give the old brick house another try. And while she still took morning walks, they were shorter and came only after a decent breakfast.

"Better. It's not easy to sleep in a new place - or an old place. But I'm getting there. This-" She gestured at the festive mess "- is helping me get there."

Mabel blinked back enough remorse to sling an arm about her shoulders and squeeze. "Good. I want this place to feel like home."

~~~~~

Clad as Carnival, Arthur waited on the living room sofa, pen in hand and notebook on his lap. "I think Y/N's halfing a good visit. She wants to talk with me more now and that's a relief. She isn't tossing and turning in bed - so I can get some sleep! Ruthie and Brian let me paint there faces, like I do at work sometimes. But it was nicer because their my neece and nephew (f?) and-"

"Ready or not, here we come!"

In the dining room doorway to the left, Mabel stood with Y/N, their arms firmly linked. Identical outfits forced a doubletake. Claw clips held back cinnamon hair, siren blue headbands sat snug above their ears. They wore Lycra leotards, capsleeve and V-neck, a fuchsia bright enough to blind. Spandex belts flattered rounded hips, what he figured was a family trait, and blue tights hugged their legs. Fuchsia leg warmers and white Saucony Jazz sneakers completed the ensembles.

Rising, Arthur rolled up his journal and stuck it in his waistband, flummoxed but eager gaze darting back and forth between them. "Who're you supposed to be?"

"The Doublemint Twins!" Mabel said, beaming with pride.

Y/N offered the half-smile of the Playing Along.

"Double the pleasure, double the fun! Look, I even have gum." Mabel retrieved a pack from her belt and doled out a stick each, which had gone soft from her body heat. Arthur hated mint gum; it tasted like trying to quit smoking. But, being in the spirit of things, he accepted, anyway. "Ed and I usually do couple's outfits, but he agreed to make an exception this year. No football player and cheerleader."

Y/N asked, "What's he doing, then?"

A guffaw boomed beyond the woman's shoulders. Slicked back salt and paper hair came into view, a face bathed in blotchy baby powder like a 1940s B-movie extra. A faded white short sleeve button-up was tucked into gray trousers, and a plastic cape was tied loosely at the neck. The cape came to his waist, as if he'd borrowed it from one of the kids.

Fingers curled into claws, he lurched forward and slurred through cheap plastic fangs. "I vant to suck your blood!" He grabbed Mabel by the bicep and bent to her neck.

Giggling, she swatted him away. "Now, now, not in front of the guests."

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I can't find Ashley's tights."

"They're in the bathroom." Mabel rubbed his hairline with her thumb, then grabbed his hand. "You need a widow's peak."

Once they were out of earshot, Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. "I think she forgot we're not actually twins. This is too tight for a school party."

When an outfit accentuated her breasts, she tended to avoid it. As Arthur saw it, though, she had nothing to be bashful about. She was lovely and his. Rouge highlighted the apples of her cheeks, violet eyeshadow flattered her brown eyes. Stepping forward, he pried her hand from her armpit.

A timid laugh bubbled up. She tucked her chin. "You're looking at me like you want to eat me up, but I feel more silly than sexy."

"You're always sexy. Especially when you're silly." He pressed a chalky kiss to her wrist, lingered until he felt her pulse. "What is it they say on GMC? When your bad movies are on? Something wicked is coming this way?"

"Not too wicked, I hope," she said, stealing beneath his plaid suitcoat to cup his sides. "At least, not yet." She bounced to her toes, plush, plum painted lips puckered towards his...

"Bye mom, bye dad!" Jason bellowed from the kitchen.

Mabel did not miss a beat. "Hold on a minute, young man!"

Arthur's mouth bumped Y/N's temple as she turned towards the commotion, then started off with an arched brow.

Ashley shoved under her arm like a sack of flour, Mabel marched out of the bathroom. "Where do you think you're going with that?" She pointed at the VCR sticking out from Jason's windbreaker.

"Mike's mom said she'd rent movies if I brought it over."

Felt pumpkin outfit at the ready, Ed jogged to Mabel's side. The toddler's stubby legs kicked wildly. Mabel passed Ashley to her husband and the interrogation continued, questions whipped off a well-memorized list. "Is this a party?"

"No."

"How many people will be there?"

"It's just some friends from school!"

"Will Mike's parents be home?"

"Yes. No. I dunno."

"Your curfew is ten-thirty."

Wincing, Jason leaned his head against the door. "But we won't even get through one movie by then!" He'd reached that age where being cool was of the utmost importance. While getting his driver's license had added a notch to the cool belt, he currently sounded much younger and uncooler than his sixteen years.

Hands on hips, Mabel let out a huff. "Eleven-thirty and not one minute later." Once the boy nodded, she pecked his cheek and opened the door. "I love you. No speeding."

Though agitation lurked in the air, Arthur couldn't help but find the scene heartwarming, akin to a family disagreement he'd seen on one of his old sitcoms. Something he wished he'd had. Maybe a compliment would soothe the situation.

"You're good at that," he said. "Being a mom, I mean."

Mabel shrugged. "He's growing up so fast - sixteen going on thirty. Let me grab this basket here-" she heaved the basket of treats from the table "-and we can be off."

~~~~~

Boonville Elementary and Sumner Middle shared a quad with Thomas Hart Benton High, with the high and middle schools on a hill on Cooper Street, and the elementary on the parallel Locust Road. Victory Field, a football field surrounded by bleachers and a quarter mile track, delineated where the big and little kids played. A baseball diamond was to the left and a playground sat to the right, which had a merry-go-round, a jungle gym, a metal slide that'd scald you when the sun was out, rickety seesaws, and two sets of swings.

The high school's gym bustled, as if the whole town had joined in celebration. Booths and tables lined the walls, manned by teachers, students, and volunteers from the community. A cakewalk with desserts and other small prizes stood in the center. A sign in an urgent font advertised a bake sale, featuring Ms. Chippy's Blue Ribbon popcorn balls.

Brian and Ruthie steered Ed and Mabel through the throng, to a haunted house hosted in the kindergarten classroom. Mabel shifted Ashley from one arm to the other, calling for them to wait up.

Y/N's face was a mask of unwelcome discomfort. Her hands folded firmly together, her Ready for Inane Conversation stance. It was foreign on her, ill-fitting. Arthur cocked his head, wondered allowed what was wrong.

Skeptical glances scanned the room. "The last time I was here was my high school reunion ten years ago. And I hated every minute of it." Before he could ask for more details, she took hold of his collar, rubbed the worn cotton between thumb and forefinger. The corner of her lips quirked, her crow's feet softened. "But with you here, it'll be worlds better. Should we bob for apples or play bean bag toss first?"

Delighted, he pressed his nose to hers, marked her with a faint streak of white.

They ambled along, Arthur adjusting his wig and tiny hat. Local dentist. Dr. Young manned a completely abandoned station; the red delicious apples and toothbrushes on offer belied why. A tween girl wrapped in swirled, turquoise scarfs and gaudy rings on her fingers, ran Madame Trudy's Palm Reading. Arthur dropped a dollar in the donation jar and held out his left hand.

"You're married," Madame Trudy said with the enthusiasm of the voluntold. A cheap trick, give his wedding ring and the woman at his side. But she was just a kid, and her next prediction made it all right. "You'll be married a long time."

A wizened old crone in a witch's hat and warted rubber nose waved them over. To his surprise, Y/N wore a warm look behind her makeup, the most genuinely welcoming he'd seen when meeting a stranger from her past.

"This girl was one of my best students," Mrs. Spencer said, patting Y/N's hand. Mrs. Spencer was a forty-year veteran of the English department and prided herself on never forgetting a face. "She sometimes got her is and es mixed up, but she always asked the right questions."

Arthur palmed the small of Y/N's back. "That makes sense. She's my best wife."

"I thought I was your only wife," she said, elbow nudging his ribs.

"Come around here," Mrs. Spencer instructed. The pat of Y/N's hand became a firm grasp as the teacher guided her former student to her side of the table. "Tell me all about what you've been doing and the big, wide world you moved to."

~~~~~

Sipping spiced cider by the snack table, Mabel and Ed made pleasant chit chat with Brian's teacher, Mr. Webb. The boy had a knack for natural sciences, and Mr. Webb had a plan for leaf graphing to help him earn his Nature merit badge. Mabel was grateful the boy had a mentor, if not a pal.

In some ways, Brian was younger than his years. Smart and good at school, but he tended to struggle with his peers, miss the social cues that'd turn classmates into friends. Luckily, he'd been enrolled in special classes in the resource room twice a week and good progress was on its way.

Just then, a woman in a sock hop costume came to the table, a woman that Mabel had the misfortune of recognizing. Replete in poodle skirt and saddle shoes, she poured herself an orange drink from a large, yellow cooler.

The prim and proper nurse was a longtimer at the hospital, had won local recognition for excellent patient care. But her method of handling family members should've resulted in a rusty iron medal.

Whenever their dad had been admitted to the hospital, the nurse had admonished Y/N with accusations. That he'd had pneumonia because she'd fed him too quickly. Or that she hadn't turned him enough in bed. Or that he wouldn't have had a UTI, if she'd washed her hands before changing his catheter. How could she not know the basics when her father was a doctor? All as if Y/N were a reckless child, with no acknowledgment of the dreams she'd abandoned to care for him. A realization Mabel had been too immature to recognize.

Though seven years had passed, the disapproval the nurse had displayed - and Mabel's own inaction against it - made her blood slow to sludge. She crumpled her paper cup, steeled herself against recollections that barged in like wanted guests.

"Mom, look!" Ruthie ran to Mabel's side, ballet flats smack, smack, smacking the linoleum floor. "I won it in the cakewalk!" she said, shoving a book at her.

Mabel took the slim paperback, studied the cover of vibrant purple and velvet black, where two tiny ghosts stood before a crumbling castle. The full moon shone through jagged clouds, illuminating a path to a splintered door. Bats and spiders snickered, waiting to greet them with screeches and snares. With a soft sound, she flipped the book to read the synopsis.

Searching for the best treats, sisters Anne and Amelia stumble into a haunted castle. Through phantom wails and creaky hallways, only by facing their fears together will they be able to break free!

Water stung her eyes, lips parted then pursed. She was stricken. Once again the silly girl at the edge of the ocean, taken aback and barely able to breathe. Sisters who were freed by facing their fears together...

"Uncle Arthur can read it to me tonight!" Ruthie said, oblivious to her mother's sudden turmoil.

Mabel wouldn't have had it any other way. Bending to return the book, she offered a tight smile. "That's my girl." She reached into her bra, dug out a five-dollar bill. "I'll be back in just a little bit. Go get something for you and Brian at the bake sale." The girl ran off, darting towards dreams of sweets.

~~~~~

Sodium vapor lights cast shadows across the playground, long, spindly fingers bent at unnatural angles. Leaves rustled in the light breeze, warm but with a nip at the back end. Through hopscotch and four square courts, Mabel hurried across the pavement, steps quickening towards the swings tucked into the furthest corner.

She sat on a worn rubber seat, knees pulled in tight, hands rubbing her upper arms. The earthy smell of wood chips, normally a familiar comfort, failed to reassure. No moon shone tonight. A new moon. If only that wasn't the only thing that was new.

This town was supposed to be familiar and friendly and safe. But while she'd gotten all the safe, it seemed as though Y/N had gotten all the thorns. Even when her divorce had been behind her, the inquires about it hadn't. She'd mentioned it more than once over beers at the Silver Spur. Innuendo in the guise of polite curiosity. The way friends they'd made as a married couple had fallen away.

And when their dad had gotten sick, there'd been enough questions put to Y/N to fill the entire room. How their father was doing, what he needed, but not how she was doing or what she needed. - something Mabel herself had been guilty of far too often. Y/N's eyes glassing over as she tucked her hair behind her ear, always answering the same.

For her, Boonville had been a blackhole. Cold and dark and lonelier than ever.

A silhouette slid into Mabel's peripheral vision, stood a few yards away. Before whoever it was could get closer, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

The shadow stepped forward. Teased hair, spandexed hips, headband that nearly glowed in the dark...

"Shit." Mabel cleared her throat, consciously eased her voice like the best Beauty Boutique sales representative. "I'll only be a minute, Y/N." She swiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Are the kids all right?"

"Ed's getting Ashley a snack. Arthur's taking the others classroom to classroom to trick-or-treat. I don't think I've ever seen him smile so wide," Y/N said, sitting on the swing beside her. "When I told him I didn't want children, him being fine with it was a relief. But I love seeing him be an uncle. He wouldn't have had that chance - I wouldn't have had that chance - without you."

Mabel winced against her gratitude, the last thing she wanted.

Y/N pulled a long blade of grass from the A-frame's post. Rubbed away the wispy seeds. "You and I haven't talked about the hard stuff. Not yet. It's easier with Arthur because he wasn't there."

"I wasn't either," Mabel said. With all her missing in action, she should've been a regular confidant.

"You're here now and that's what's important to me."

A soft sniffle forced itself out of Mabel's nose. She'd invited Y/N here to atone, to recapture the holiday magic they'd loved as little girls and lost for too long. And here she was being comforted instead. God, how it irked her. She didn't want to burden Y/N, didn't want to wallow. She'd work it out with Ed, her silo of support.

Mabel decided to share a simple truth. "You know, after you got married and moved out, mom let me light the jack-o-lantern. But I'd rather have had you."

Sidling her swing closer, Y/N put her hand on her knee. "There've been enough ghosts between us, Mabel."

A wave of protectiveness swept through Mabel, the same she'd felt when given Jason the third degree. "Let's face them together," she said, ready to start right away. She kissed Y/N's cheek and sprung from the swing. "Now hold on tight."

~~~~~

"Watch your step," said Arthur, a kid on each hand. While Ed and Ashley napped in the school nurse's office, Arthur navigated the downward slope to Victory Field. In clown shoes, that was a feat.

Ruthie and Brian had gotten a haul to be proud of, their pillowcases filled to the brim. Arthur's own pockets were bursting with his favorite butterscotch candies and Palmer chocolate flavored crispy wavers. Y/N insisted the latter were terrible, and he had to admit the chocolates she'd introduced him to were less sickly sweet. But Palmer's distinct plastic taste was tied to the warmth of a kind schoolteacher who'd taken a boy without a costume under her wing.

Girlish laughter rang out in the distance. He blinked in the semi-darkness, guided the kids towards the cheerful sound.

Halfway down the hill, he halted. Unbridled joy stretched his lips, a smile to rival Carnival's.

Crouching behind Y/N, Mabel pushed her on the swing, letting loose an exaggerated groan. Heavy duty chains squeaked in their pendulums with each back and forth. Y/N's legs pumped harder and harder, toes reaching for the stars as if she was ready to fly. "Higher!" she cried, then laughed again. "Higher!"

Brian dumped his sack on the ground, spread out the booty in a big circle. He knelt to arrange the candy into neat rows, sorted by least favorite to most. Offering to trade three rolls of smarties for a Jolly Jack bar, Ruthie flopped down in her tutu and dug into a peanut butter cup.

Half-listening, Arthur sat cross-legged on the lawn, an eager audience to the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes @fleckficgirl

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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jbcomic · 24 days

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i don't think i will ever love a fictional character the way i love arthur fleck and stan a celeb the way i adore and respect joaquin he is like my dad because i don't have a good relationship with my dad in real life 😓

#arthur fleck

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ghastella · 9 months

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Hey, I'm Ghastella! Someone asked for my writing advice & this is what I came up with:

💖 My all-time favorite book about writing is bird by bird by Anne lamott. Read it. Or don't. (See below.)

💖 Read a lot. If you don't like something you're reading, dump it. Life's too short to hate what you're reading. This includes bird by bird if you find it's not your cup of tea. Search for other people's writing that lights you up and makes you feel something in your body, whether that's making you wanna pee your pants or something that makes your heart stop. Look for the body hit.

💖 Write every day. Write the stuff you think is pointless. Write the self indulgent fic. Keep a journal and write what happened to you today. Just write something.

💖 Don't self-edit when you're just getting stuff down the first round. Save that crap for revision.

💖 If you get a journal, get one that make your blood boil.

💖 I don't care what anyone says about suffering, The better you feel in your body and mind, the more of a juicy creative you will be. So make feeling good your first priority and do whatever you need to do to make that happen first.

💖 Don't ever write to impress, seduce or win over a love interest. Or anyone. Just trust me. You're entering a world of pain, Donny.

💖 In that same vein, if you give a romantic partner prospect something you wrote and they take more than 48 hours to read it, they're not for you. Fuck that guy/girl/person. Actually, stop fucking them. Immediately.

💖 When you don't know what happens next, look inward. You already have the answers inside you. What would make you as a reader get excited and turned on by? Boop, I know you already got it, you sly kitten. Now go write that.

💖 Fuck everybody. Write the shit you wanna read.

💖 Remember: You're not telling a story, you're casting a spell on the reader.

💖 Put as much blank space (my dad calls it "air") on the page as you can manage. Trust me.

💖💖 thanks for asking me @fallon779, it's an honor 💖

My Arthur Fleck fanfic acct: @fleckficgirl

#writing advice #ask #ask answered #thanks for asking #writer #writers on tumblr

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x-heesy · 7 months

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PHUCҜ ΨΣΔH ITΔLIΔΠ RΔP

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert

Still the anxiety rising, hey

I smoke like it's legal, hey

Tell me if anyone is normal

In Area 51, bro, there's Santa Claus, wow

Put the record on and you're dead, you wait for this piece more than the risen Christ

In my house the crucifix is a memory

Son of God, I prefer abortion

I think I go to Mc, I put on a happy face like Arthur Fleck

I make a massacre if, again this year Michael Bublé sings on Italia 1

I smoke but don't mind it

There is the nativity scene that gives me a round of applause

People go where their noses take them

Especially if it is Pippo Baudo's

I ride with the revocation, eh

Widow type noise, huh

Christmas is upon us

Jehovah's Witness

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson, eh

I think I'm late today too, eh

I'm not on time for dinner

You know what the fuck I care about gifts

Or to see some stupid aunt

I hate Christmas like the Grinch, mh

'This flow kills you, it gives lessons, mh

I enter a cinepanettone, mh

With a shotgun, mh

New Year's Eve with a bang

I'm crazy, now I'm going to explode

I'm under your girlfriend's tree, I give her my cock with a bow

Hey, Santa Claus

Except one day a year he's just an old drunk

This year I made money and I will ask baby Jesus

What does he want as a gift, like Briatore

Well done, clown sings

All red bro, like Santa Claus

You who are around me, because you want a follow

I'll give you the likes, I'm Santa Cloud

I see you sad, maybe it's because you're not on Salmo's album

And if Santa Claus exists, I'm not the rapper of the year

If it gets me that bad

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson

Nice gun, what does it shoot? Balls?

Better not be a tree, because he has more balls

When I come in, everyone goes, "Wow."

Between 'if I call God, he answers me: "Woof"

I don't give a shit, but at least

I always destroy myself when I have dinner

I ate a pandoro with Morgan

There was only icing sugar

Christmas makes you fat as shit

And waste the food we need

I don't pray to an angel, I'm not in Bethlehem

I don't envy the tree because it's broke

I'm sorry if you were alarmed

But you are as out of place as someone who goes on the subway and shouts: "Allah" with a gun

What a bomb of a gift

Your girlfriend, boar

Always eating

He's not Santa Claus

But such a big oaf

If it hurts me so much

Maybe, maybe it will be Christmas

Even though it all seems the same to me

Every time I think about it I get Charles Manson

They already ask me what I do on New Year's Eve

I wonder what I'll do on New Year's Eve

You didn't see us in your club, you're blind

Dinner at Mc, Jesus Crispy McBacon, huh

And at dinner with the relatives, mh

I introduce myself and take my leave, mh

"When are you going to give us the little ones?" (Eh)

I answer: "When I defrost them" (Wow)

I have a recurring dream that attracts me

Convince the Vanzinas to film Christmas in Syria

So perhaps we can see what is happening in Palestine

And on opening day, I shoot myself in the mouth in the front row

Merry Christmas, assholes

With my brains on De Sica and Boldi

We are as empty as your drunken talk

Give each other gifts, not our business, it's better if you leave

Fuck off kindly

The difference is there and you can feel it

I am always fresh, evergreen

You are always cool, always green

I'm going to shout "Happy New Year" at an Easter lunch

I already know it's in Santa's sack

Another great album from a talent dad

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert

Happy f- holidays, merry m- Christmas

December 25th, we are on alert 🚨

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽 (𝙱𝚄𝙾𝙽 𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙴2) (𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝙻𝚊𝚣𝚣𝚊) 𝚋𝚢 𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚘, 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚒 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚟, 𝙽𝚒𝚝𝚛𝚘 v7

@ombrabrontok @len0r @luna---zylum @bigbonzo @boanerges20

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charliedawn · 1 year

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How would they react if their child came to them for advice ?

Freddy was tending to his garden when he heard your familiar footsteps behind him. He turned around with a wide smile—but that smile faltered when he saw the look on your face.

"Hey, champ'. What's going on ?". You sat down next to him and started mindlessly picking out the plants you found there. Freddy would normally protest—but he could see that something was wrong.

"We talked about growing up in school today and it made me think...", you confessed before looking up at him. "What was it like for you ? Was it hard ?"

Freddy was surprised by the question. He could see you were scared of the answer—as you should be. It wasn't easy to grow up. His childhood was...not good. And it didn't get any better growing up. But, he couldn't tell you that. You weren't him. You could still make something of yourself.

So, he wrapped a comforting arm around you and smiled.

"Yup. Hard as Hell. But, you'll be a'right, kid. You know why ?" You shook your head and Freddy removed his hat before putting it on your head. "Because you got me. And I ain't letting anything stand in your way. You're my kid. And since I already went all the wrong ways—I'll make sure you do everything I didn't."

You smiled and felt somehow reassured. It wasn't exactly what you wanted to hear—but it was enough for now. You knew that your father meant well and you remembered how he had hesitated before adopting you. He didn't think himself capable of being a good dad. He thought himself the worst.

But, he did stay. He stayed, and that made him the best father you could have ever asked for. You hugged him and thanked him. He seemed surprised at first, but smiled and returned it.

You hid the piece of paper you had wanted to show him behind your back.

Who do you want to be when you grow up ?

...My dad.

You were staring at the piece of paper you had been asked to answer at home. It wasn't a big question. Just a complicated one.

Who do you want to be when you grow up ?

It seemed whenever you would be staring at the question and try to answer it, it would stare right back at you. At the end, you let out a loud frustrated groan before crumpling the piece of paper in your hand and threw it across the room.

"Wow. What's gotten into ya, kiddo ?" You turned around to see your father standing there. He had witnessed the whole scene and you sniffed pathetically before answering him.

"Growing up sucks..."

Bo looked between you and the piece of paper before turning back towards you. He picked up the paper and looked at the question. He held back a snort. What kind of question was that ?

He looked back up at you and frowned at your dejected expression. Welp...Seemed like it was time to be a good father figure and give you some wise advice—two things he had no fuckin' clue how to do.

"Ya right. Growing up sucks. Big time. But, ya know what' awesome ? Ya learn. And whoever ya' goin' te be ? Just be you. And be great at it. A'right ?"

He smiled and ruffled you hair playfully until you giggled. Your eyes briefly caught the old scars around his wrists and for a moment, you thought about your dad's past. He had told you about his parents and how they had 'educated' him. And then, you thought of how he had learned from it and even though you sometimes could throw tantrums—he had never once raised a finger on you.

You smiled when you realized that you finally had an answer. You straightened the piece of paper the best you could before writing down.

When I grow up, I want to be my dad.

Michael was reading a book in his bedroom when he heard a shy knocking at his door. He stood up and opened it to find you—waiting in the corridor with a piece of paper in your hand.

"Hey, dad. Could I...Could I ask you something ?" He took a step back and let you in before closing the door behind you. He sat down on the sofa and patted the spot next to him. You smiled and nodded understandingly before indulging his silent request.

"I...have an assignment and I was wondering if you could help me ?"

He scooted closer to you to take a look at the paper in your hands and took out his notebook to write down.

How can I help ?

You thought about it for a moment before explaining your predicament.

"I just...I've been living all my life in the hospital. I don't know anyone that would be a good role model. I barely know anyone that is normal. Am I even normal myself ?"

Michael's jaw twitched as he realized he had never considered that your environment might end up being a problem. It was true. None of the slashers could really be taken as role models. He sighed and started seriously thinking about it before finally writing down.

Yourself.

You frowned and were about to ask what he meant by that when he quickly added.

If no one is up to your standards ? It is because you are the best there is in this place. And who do you want to be ? Yourself. Because you are already the best. And there is no one in this place that could ever measure. You survived all of those years. You were surrounded by slashers all your life, and you survived. I couldn't be prouder.

He hesitated before adding.

You are my role model.

Your eyes filled with tears as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed. You finally had your answer. And your dad had helped you in more ways than one.

He was wise. Kind. And unlike anyone you had ever met. He had fought against every instinct in his body to keep you and protect you. And that made him the best role model you could ask for.

You stared at the question for a moment before sighing and leaning back. Unlike your dad who basically wrote more than he breathed...You weren't so lucky.

You had no idea of who to write.

You groaned loudly in annoyance before covering your face with the piece of paper. After a moment, you saw a shadow looming over you through the sheet and soon enough—the piece of paper was removed.

Jack took a look at its content and almost laughed at the stupid question. Who you wanted to be when you grow up ? Heck, he was a grown-up, and even he didn't have the answer to that. He sat down in front of you and threw the paper on your desk.

"...So, a lack of inspiration, huh ?" You groaned again in response and your father chuckled knowingly. The blank page syndrome he knew all too well...

"Is it always gonna be like that ? I feel like school is all a game of pretend. I can't be myself. And I can't say anything because that would make me an even bigger weirdo than I am.", you opened up to your dad who shook his head. He was somehow popular when he was in school—but he knew the struggle. The only way he could truly express himself was through the words he wrote. He never shared them though. Stupid decision. He would have gotten on the path of a writer far sooner if he had.

"Don't sweat it, kid. It's only a phase. When you'll be an adult ? No more 'who's mister/miss popular'. Or, 'who's the loser'. Everyone has their own problems. And guess what ? You'll have forgotten all about school and teenage problems when you'll hit my age."

You smiled and nodded before looking at the paper in your hands. It was hard to find an answer. But, he had kinda helped you be less scared of what will happen and in the process—given you an answer.

"Thanks, dad."

He huffed a laugh before nodding.

"No problem, kiddo."

Pennywise didn't show up until you had actually finished filling up your assignment. But, he frowned when he found that you had written Penny on the paper. He knew he wouldn't be your role model. He didn't want to be—but Penny ? Really ?

Well, it did make sense when he thought about it.

Penny was good with kids.

"Are you...mad ?", you asked—unsure. And Pennywise shook his head.

He then looked at you and smiled before giving you back your paper.

"No, little one. I am glad that you see him that way, kiddo. Just...remember that your uncle Penny tends to get himself into trouble and I'm here to keep you safe—alright ?"

You smiled and nodded before waiting until your father was out of the room before adding letters to the name. Turns out, Pennywise wasn't such a bad role model.

Penny did want to help. He just didn't know how. So, he tried to think about an answer that would be satisfactory enough.

"Well, you just have to write someone that you admire. That you look up to. A human you like for example.", Penny told you and you sighed. You had no idea who in your life could fit that description.

"Do you have anyone like that ?", you finally asked and Penny thought about it for a moment before giggling to himself.

"Well...Don't tell anyone but...your uncle Pennywise." You were surprised by his answer and frowned in confusion.

"What ? But, you hate him ! You're always yelling at each other !"

Penny shook his head before smiling at you.

"I don't hate him. We're brothers. Let's just say that...Even your dad can sometimes become jealous."

He winced at that last part. Penny didn't like admitting his defaults.

"Jealous ? But, you're the best !", you protested and Penny laughed at your endearing confidence in him.

"I appreciate it, little one. But, Pennywise always has a solution for everything. He took care of me when I almost died. Twice. And he never left. No matter how many times he wanted to. No matter how many times I begged him to. No matter how many times I deserved it. He's like that piece of cotton candy stuck underneath your shoe that you can't get rid of."

You both laughed at the comparison and finally, you had your answer.

"But, there's no one that makes me laugh as much as you do, dad. And I want to be able to bring a smile to everyone's faces—just like you."

You finally knew what to write down and your father grinned proudly at your answer before picking you up.

"Come on. Let's go find some popcorn."

Jason was rarely taken aback. You could count the number of times you had seen him surprised on your fingers. So, when Freddy came out with an idea for a prank that would surely make your father react ? You didn't even hesitate.

You wished you had had a camera to record the moment Jason discovered you had written Freddy's name on the assignment. You were pretty sure that if he was really human—he would have died of an heart attack.

"It should be someone you...really admire.", he finally succeeded in telling in sign language and you hid your amused smile from him and tilted your head to the side quizzically.

"And uncle Freddy isn't a good example ?", you asked innocently and Jason seemed to deadpan.

"No." There was no hesitation and—unable to keep a straight face anymore—you burst out laughing. Freddy came out behind you and laughed as well before giving you a high-five.

"THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE !"

He had Jason's camera in hand and if looks could kill, Freddy would have been cut into pieces and thrown in a deepless river.

Jason started marching towards him and Freddy ran away. The moment they were out of the room, you shook your head with an amused smile before erasing your answer and writing Jason's name instead.

You had the answer from the beginning—but having your father lose his temper was so tempting—you just couldn't resist.

Proudest dad ever. He saw you had written his name and beamed at you.

"Me ? Brahms is your role model ?"

You nodded sheepishly and Brahms was really honored—but he then frowned and asked with confusion.

"...Why ?"

Brahms was not self-conscious. Far from it. But he couldn't see a single reason why he would be your role model. H was childish and even though he tried to act a little mature around you—he couldn't hide who he really was. You looked away and shrugged—trying to sound nonchalant as you replied.

"Because you aren't afraid to be yourself, and that's what I want to be. You showed me that I could be a good person by being myself."

He stayed still for a moment before picking you up and kissing your cheek. He was so happy. He had at least done something right. He had been raised with parents who didn't understand him or his will to be different.

He never wanted you to suffer the same fate.

"Thank you, Y/N."

You giggled as his beard started to tickle your face and he then asked if you wanted to go to your favorite restaurant. You went there and Brahms ordered every single item they had on the menu.

What you loved most about you dad was that—despite it all—he had kept his inner child.

Arthur came back late at night and felt guilty for not having helped you with the assignment. However, as soon as he spotted his name on the piece of paper, he erased it. He didn't deserve it.

He then sat down next to you and softly pet your head. He didn't want you to follow his path—that wasn't the reason he had adopted you.

He shook his head and kissed your forehead.

Whatever it takes, he would NEVER let you be him.

Norman received a call from your school about your...more than unusual answer to the assignment. As soon as you were back, he extended his hand and you sighed before giving him the filled assignment. Norman's eye twitched as he saw your answer.

You had written "SLASHER" in bold.

He would have expected every single answer out there—but that one.

"What do you mean by this, sweetie ?", he asked you as soon as you were both sitting and you looked away.

"...I want to be a slasher.", you claimed and he shook his head. You couldn't possibly mean it. Being a slasher was a very lonely existence and he wouldn't wish it on his worse enemy. Besides, you couldn't predict who would turn out to be a slasher. Only a few made it. He—himself—had no idea how he had become a slasher.

"Darling, you can't.", he tried to explain—but you wouldn't hear it.

"You said I could be whoever I want.", you insisted and glared up at him. "Or did you lie ?"

The accusation had the effect of a cold shower on Norman's head who hated he couldn't provide you with a positive answer. He wanted to tell you that you could...But, some of the people he knew couldn't be slashers—even though they were ruthless and bloody killers.

"This isn't how it works, darling. You know that." You humphed unhappily and stomped your foot on the ground.

"It's not fair."

He hesitated before cradling you in his arms.

"Ssh...I know, darling. I know."

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #dad slashers #slashers #michael myers x child!reader #freddy krueger x child!reader #bo sinclair x child!reader #pennywise x child!reader #Norman Bates x child!reader #arthur fleck x child!reader #Brahms heelshire x child!reader #Jason voorhees x child!reader #jack torrance x child!reader

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jesytr · 8 months

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Biography for, " Harleen Quinzel. "

growing up in a rough household was an understatement when your dad would kick you around just for no reason other than his own wanting to. not that abuse ever had any better reasoning. her mother soon being the claim to turning black and blue and brushing all over.

causing numerous amounts of therapy for the family if only they could afford it. and school was just that. . . a place to be educated though with many days only paying attention for gymnastics and later down the lines - psychology. it was easy to go from middle school to highschool flirting with boy and boy until she met Johnny who acted all perfect day one, but wanted to hurt her the next day. So she sent him home with a crooked nose and her stay in detention began a downhill slide up until she got into college.

there she was mentored by Doctor Johnathon Crane who taught her study upon study of therapeutic and psychological investments. reminding her that the " mind is a sponge. " And to utilize all traces of it. though she found his teachings a bit too intense she soon graduated with a PHD.

It wasn't long before she developed a habit of diving into things that she wanted when she wanted them. finding herself emerging into the career of a psychiatrist at Arkham asylum. from there beginning her eccentric career with patient after patient, but they never really seemed to be enough for her. and then she began her therapy sessions with Arthur Fleck aka The Joker. previously meeting him for the first time on a bus heading to her first ever job interview at Arkham.

biography for, " Harley Quinn. "

being created through plots *

#bio

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archivyrep · 2 years

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The go-to archivist depiction

Example of someone who cross describes as a go-to depiction of an archivist; this is Archie in Regular Show

Samantha Cross, an archivist who reviews examples of archives in popular culture, has argued that the "go-to depiction of an archivist" is often middle-aged, White, male, and likely cisgender. She also described Zootopia as feeding into "the stereotype of records and archives being distant," and the almost useless archivist in Voltron: Legendary Defender. One of the best examples of what she describes as the "go-to depiction" of an archivist is Archie in Regular Show, but there are others as well, which align and buck this depiction.

Reprinted from my Wading Through the Cultural Stacks WordPress blog. Originally published on May 13, 2022.

If he can be considered an archivist, there is the Librarian in an episode of She-Ra: Princess of Power. He oversees the Library in the Valley of the Lost, and is said to be a hermit. He is an elderly man with White hair and is White. He also manages what is known as the Inner Library, which has books "in a language not used in a thousand years." It is, arguably, a bit archivy. He is not the only White archivist I've written about on this blog. One of the oft-mentioned on here is Jocasta Nu, an elderly White woman, who runs the Jedi Archives. Another example I sometimes forget is the White female archivist who is manipulated by Anna to change a birth record in My Dictator Boyfriend. [1]

Some fan fics seem to feed into the idea that archivists are White people. These fics show archivists as stereotypical with grey hair, for instance. Others showcase archivists of color, including those which I've written myself, even making Bow's dads archivists, even though they are historians in the original series, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. This is a bit of an oddity, however. As, others example of a White archivist are the records clerks shown briefly in an episode of 180 Angel, Abigail Chase in the National Treasure franchise, and a reference librarian in Can You Ever Forgive Me?. Additionally, it could also be argued that Theoda and Pothina in Cleopatra in Space are archivists, or at least information professionals of some kind as they work in a museum of the show's protagonist.

Apart from Hermes Conrad, a bureaucrat who you could argue is an archivist I suppose, there's the Japanese man, Ura, in Pale Cocoon, a green Gem named Peridot in Steven Universe. The latter two could be either be said to be archivists, each in their own way, or engaging in some archivist tasks. In any case, Peridot's voice actor is Shelby Rabara, a Filipino-American actress and dancer. More directly than any of these examples is the Black male record clerk, Clark, in Joker (played by Brian Tyree Henry), who tries to help Arthur Fleck get his hands on records of his mother. However, he is determined to stick to the rules, leading Fleck to literally steal the records from him to avoid the red tape.

There are two characters other than Hermes, Ura, Peridot, or the unnamed record clerk which can undoubtedly be described as archivists: Arizal in Recorded by Arizal and Grandpa Park in Stretch Armstrong. Neither seems to have professional training (Arizal may be on the path to such training), but both engage in actions which make them archivists in one way or another. There's a solo archivist in Ultraman Taiga, a presidential archivist named Briony in Leif & Thorn, and a 26-year-old archivist named Cortez Velasquez in Heirs of the Veil, the blue-skinned sisters (and archivists) in Lore Olympus, and Rae, an aspiring archivist in Always Human.

There are many other examples and characters who engage in archivist duties like arrangement, description, preservation, appraisal, reference, collaboration, outreach, administrative tasks, and selection, so in that sense, this is only scratching the surface. That is in part because the number of posts on this blog are minimal, not even reaching 100 posts at present, so I don't have many other examples to use for this post. But, if I decide to pursue this in the future, I may come back to this post and build on it again.

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lonelywretchjervistetch · 2 years

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My DC Cinematic Universe: Batman (Part II)

Part II: Parents Lost and Found

First things first: no origin story in this movie, just like Superman. If you don't know Batman's origin story at this point, you're living under a rock. Of the 11 cinematic outings we've been of Batman that were focused around the character (Justice League doesn't count), 4 of them have actually shown us his origin story, while the others have at least hinted at it. Only one, the 1969 Adam West-starring Batman: The Movie doesn't mention the Waynes at all.

It's also established that Batman does indeed have a father figure, which he usually acknowledges as such in the films. One Alfred Pennyworth, of course, is this man, and one of the most important supporting characters in any superhero story, but most certainly in Batman's world. Appearing alongside every cinematic adaptation of the character, Alfred is an iconic character in his own right, who's also recently been oddly sidelined for the sake of drama in the comics. But we'll get to the Butler in the Refrigerator later in this essay.

What you're about to read (if, indeed you do read this, and thank you if you do), is a recounting of the late Thomas and Martha Wayne, as well as perennial father figure, Alfred Pennyworth...and the mother figure that never truly was in the comics, but really should've been. As before, I'll give a real brief accounting of previous versions of the character, then present my own version. First fathers, then mothers. So, let's get started!

Thomas Wayne: Doctored Doctor

Of Bruce Wayne's parents, Dr. Thomas Wayne has gotten far more attention than Martha has. Throughout his comic book history, he's gotten a number of incarnations and revelations, mostly revolving around his relationships and interactions with the seedier portions of Gotham City. Dating back to the Silver Age, he pissed off mobster Lew Moxon, who eventually hired Joe Chill to get him killed. During the Modern Age (and in one of my favorite stories, which we'll get to later), it's revealed that he saved the life of a young Carmine Falcone, leading to a connection there as well. And that particular connection has been adapted in video games and The Batman in particular.

But most incarnations of Thomas Wayne share one thing in common: he's a good man in a city filled with corruption. In some versions, he's genuinely trying to make the city a better place. Batman Begins' portrayal, played by Linus Roache, is definitely the most famous of these, with his philanthropic ideals on the merge of remodeling the city, before being erased with his death. This is also one of the few versions of the character where we actively see him being a good dad to Bruce, and this was a good move on Nolan's part, since we get to like the guy a but more than in most versions.

There are also the...weirder versions of the character. Pennyworth's version is from the same universe as the Gotham TV series, which I'm...not a fan of. At all, actually. Maybe more on that later, but Thomas here is a CIA agent overseeing Alfred. And I haven't watched this series, but this is an...odd version of the character, from what I know of him. Same with Joker's version of the character, which throws in a recently seen politician angle for the character, but makes him considerably meaner and more corrupt, as well as...well, that's a spoiler, so I won't say. Although, to be fair, that could be Arthur Fleck's delusions that make that version of the character.

Look, Thomas Wayne is an interesting character for what we see of him, but for obvious reasons, he isn't exactly present in Bruce's life. But, personally, my version of Thomas Wayne was known for his social intelligence and charisma, having a reputation that's often associated with Bruce, for good or for ill. He was a hard worker and a hard player, inspiring his employees and delighting his friends. Thomas should be likeable, agreeable, and understanding, and was a very good and present Dad. And that last bit is rare for parents as rich as the Waynes were, so this is an important point. The absence of Thomas should be felt by the city, and also by the Wayne household.

And as for his replacement...this one's gonna be much longer.

Alfred Pennyworth: Batman's Father

Weird title, I know. Thomas Wayne, after all is the father of Bruce Wayne. But here's the thing: Bruce Wayne is dead. The very moment that the life left the bodies of Thomas and Martha Wayne, Bruce Wayne died alongside them. That day is the birth of Batman, who was dragged kicking and screaming into the world with a gunshot. And Batman has no parents. Well...not at that point, anyway. Over the years, somebody stepped into the role of father figure for a young Batman. And that someone, of course, is a butler named Alfred Pennyworth.

Alfred is, without a doubt, one of the most important supporting characters in fiction. Which is impressive, because it feels like the comics have sort of forgotten and remembered that simultaneously. In case you didn't know, Alfred is dead in the comics at the moment, killed by Bane after a recent campaign by the Santa Priscan to once again break the Batman and his family. And yeah, I'm still pissed off about it. Alfred deserves more than being made into a Butler in Refrigerator. And thankfully, most adaptations realize that.

Again, I haven't seen Pennyworth, but the fact that he has his own origin story series should tell you something. Traditionally, Alfred Pennyworth is known for his work as a spy and British intelligence agent in his early years, during which he either met Thomas Wayne in the line of duty, or was hired by the Waynes after leaving the service. Yet more incarnations have Alfred as a former actor, or a butler who inherited his father's position as the butler of Wayne Manor, or even a bumbling private detective if you go back to his earliest appearances as "Alfred Beagle". He's worn a few hats, is what I'm saying.

After working for the Waynes, though, Alfred never leaves again. And after Thomas and Martha are killed. Alfred immediately steps into the role of Bruce's caretaker, becoming a father figure for him along the way. The two maintain a semblance of professionalism most of the time, but they definitely see each other as father and son, no doubt.

OK, I'll go through this next bit quickly, even though the answer of my favorite Alfred is probably obvious. Alfred has appeared in every adaptation of Batman since the 1966 television series, where he was played by Alan Napier. After that point, Michael Gough famously played the character starting with Batman, and became one of only two actors to reprise his role from up through Batman and Robin. Great version of the character, and one of my favorites...but not my favorite. He's just a little too detached, and not quite spry enough for my liking. I dunno, he's not as personable as I'd like, although he's one of the only good things about Batman and Robin for his connection to Bruce. Ranks #4 in my list of Alfreds.

Jeremy Irons was Alfred in the Snyderverse films, and is genuinely one of the best parts of those movies. He's actually a good character, and very good support for Batman and the Justice League, and he's also likeable. Plus, he actually criticizes the fucking bonehead that is Batman in these movies, and I love him for that. Another really good version of the character! But he seems more like a contemporary to Bruce, rather than a father figure, so it's not really what I'm looking for. I'd place him at #5. Not as good as Gough, but still quite good.

Goddamn, do I like Andy Serkis' Alfred from The Batman. He lands at my #3 spot, because he not only is placed as the fatherly role that he should be placed in, but he's also clearly a detective in his own right. He helps Bruce with the Riddler's cipher, and watches over Bruce's mission with a worries yet supportive eye. Plus, he's put in real danger during the film, and we see his relationship with Bruce placed full center, in a very meaningful manner. Look, this is a great version of the character...but still only #3. And if you don't know my #1 by now...come on. It's not a surprise.

I adore Efrem Zimbalist Jr.'s Alfred, as seen in Batman: The Animated Series, and throughout the DCAU as a whole. This is honestly my prototypical Alfred, and one of the two that immediately comes to mind when I think of the character. Subtle father figure vibes with heavy butler energy. A lot of snark packed into a sharp mustache and a tailored suit. Ready to give you a talking back to, and a thermos of chicken soup to fight a could. Caring and supportive, but not afraid to stick up for himself and his family. Goddamn, this Alfred fucking rules. And he's very funny, for the record; probably the funniest Alfred.

Also, honorable mentions to Alastair Duncan's version from The Batman TV series, and to Ralph Fiennes' version in The Lego Batman Movie. Also fantastic versions of the character, who I'm putting in this slot as well. Animated Alfreds are very good, honestly. But Zimbalist's in particular is my...#2. Alfred.

Because, come on. There's only one real choice for #1 here.

I mean, come on, it's Michael fucking Caine! This is the Alfred that reigns supreme in my mind when I think of live-action Alfred, and sits alongside the Zimbalist version as my idea version of the character. While we don't know much about his past, he know that his relationship with Bruce is that of a supportive father figure who supports Bruce as best he can, but still struggles with his choices to embrace the night. His departure in the last Nolan film was devastating, but extremely understandable, and gave us some of the best scenes in the movie. I mean, Alfred gave us some of the best scenes and lines in the franchise, for Christ's sake. Everything I said about the Zimbalist Alfred goes here, although he isn't quite as snarky. Still, this version is fantastic, and is absolutely my top Alfred.

Yeah, sorry, Gotham's Sean Pertwee. You're actually a pretty good Alfred, too, but put in a very weird universe. This Alfred leans into the "former intelligence agent" angle really heavily, which is a recent trend in Alfred. Beware the Batman did this as well, and you can see whispers in all Alfred that came after him. And I get why, but I dunno...removes some of the charm of the character for me. That said, though, Pertwee still plays a good character, but he's not really my preferred Alfred. I mean, Zimbalist and Caine also played Alfreds with secret badass pasts. Zimbalist's version was also a British spy, while Caine's was an officer in the British Special Air Services with multiple tours of duty! But that element of the character made Pertwee's Alfred into a gruff, always irritated, and non-trustworthy bodyguard of a character, and not exactly the butler I've come to love.

So, who is my Alfred Pennyworth? I mean, I basically already said it. He's the father figure to Batman, or Bruce Wayne post-parent murder. He's a butler, yes, but also a caring and loyal protector to the Dark Knight. He's one of the only people that Batman doesn't scare, and not just because of their connection. A truly good person who's seen a lot in his past, Alfred believes that what Batman does is right, but acts as a tether preventing him from falling into the abyss below. Criticizing when he needs to be, and uplifting by the same measure.

Alfred loves tea, and is a connoisseur of tea services worldwide. And yes, he's aware that it's a stereotype, but he truly does not care. He knows the right tea for everybody, almost miraculously, just from a brief set of interactions. He's extremely observant and able to detect the needs of those around him very easily, making him not only an excellent butler, but a caring friend and father figure for his family. He gets out once in a while, but usually prefers to stay indoors. Also, he's an absolute cricket nut (again, despite the British stereotype).

Batman truly would be lost without Alfred, but Alfred would be similarly bereft without Bruce. And I do mean Bruce, because Alfred still sees him as the young lad he used to watch over as a child, and the man that he helped to raise up to this day. The two share a deep and unbreakable bond. And even though Alfred wouldn't go out to fight alongside Batman, he's trained on the Batcomputer and other items in the Batcave, as is a valuable support system for Batman and his partners in the field. Alfred is the lynchpin of the Batfamily, and his presence should be felt. Maybe that's why I like Caine's Alfred so much. Because you always know he's there.

OK, that's enough of dads for now. Let's get into moms.

Martha Wayne: Forgotten and Neglected

Yeah, I mean that. Seriously, Martha's barely gotten any attention in the comics, nevertheless in adaptations. As it goes for many female supporting characters of superheroes, and especially mothers, she's just not a well-covered character. Literally, this version of the character in Pennyworth, played by Emma Paetz, is the ONLY LIVE-ACTION VERSION of the character I can find in GIF form. She's just sort of ignored in media, sidelined as the mother, or the love interest for Thomas (or even for Alfred in Pennyworth).

And honestly, that sucks. Martha's only legacy shouldn't be the pearl necklace torn off of her on the last night of her life. That's especially unfair because of the fact that her niece is Kate Kane, AKA Batwoman! She's a part of a notable Gotham family in her own right, so why shouldn't she also be a well-known figure in Gotham. I dare you to find a single Batman story where somebody says they were friends with Bruce's mother. Fuckin' EVERYBODY knows Thomas, but nobody talks about Martha independent of him. Ironic, given that more people know her name than Thomas' in the real world, thanks to...well...

Yeah, THAT stupid shit. Anyway, with all of that said, who is Martha Wayne? In the comics, as I said, Martha Wayne is a member of the Kane family, a very influential Gotham family due to their work in chemicals and industry. She became famous as a socialite and party girl, until eventually meeting Thomas Wayne and falling in love with him. And...that's basically it. I guess she was a philanthropist at one point...her family lost their wealth for a minute due to bad investments, but she got it back eventually...she got involved with some gangsters a couple of times, but never substantially.

She's had a number of tiny appearances, but not much of her own character or history, especially as compared to Thomas. So, because of that, she's basically a blank slate. Although, funnily enough, there is a connection with another character who I'll get into in a minute here. But OK, who is my version of Martha Wayne?

Thomas, according to the above version of him, gave Bruce his social intelligence, business acumen, and name. Martha gave Bruce her compassion and strategic intelligence, as well as her sometimes pensive and thoughtful nature. This Martha did indeed come from a wealthy family, but specifically a military one. Making their fortunes in investments, the Kanes are part of a proud military tradition, which was inherited by Jacob Kane, Martha's brother. However, Martha had more of an interest in philanthropy and investments, working for good causes and helping people where she could.

Martha was a kind and good person, and it surprised many that she started a relationship with Thomas Wayne. Thomas was known as a somewhat self-centered person by reputation, even though that wasn't his actual personality. Martha, being quite wise, realized this quickly, after meeting him at a social function she was told to go to by her family. The two had known each other from school days, before she was sent abroad for her studies by her family. The two were, in essence, starcrossed, with the Waynes and Kanes having a somewhat public rivalry, and their favored sons, Thomas and Jacob, being frenemies of a sort as well. But back to Martha.

The two start a courtship, which builds steadily over time, but Martha is more focused on philanthropic efforts, while Thomas inherits the family business. They both build their reputations, separately and together, and quickly become a beloved power couple in the city of Gotham. Through Thomas' connections as a doctor, Martha made another important connection. This connection would become Martha's best friend, and would serve as a surrogate mother for Bruce in her stead. She was also named the godmother of a young Bruce Wayne, and would care for him after her friend Martha was killed in an alleyway.

Martha Wayne, in my universe/headcanon, is a brilliant woman whose marriage to Thomas Wayne furthered the position of the company through her strategic advice, and also increased both of their reputations mutually, making Wayne Enterprises into the foremost company in Gotham. Yeah, Martha's an important part of the business here, and one of the main reasons why Batman believes in a moral good. Thomas is still a huge part of it, but Martha shouldn't be counted out. Ironically, though, most of Gotham City doesn't quite understand how vital her contributions were, and her philanthropic efforts were mostly ignored due to her choice to take part in a risky investment: the revitalization of Arkham Asylum. Much more on that choice later.

But of course, after that, their lives were taken by a coward in Park Row, leaving behind their son Bruce. He was placed in the care of one Alfred Pennyworth, and under the eyes of his godmother, and secondary maternal figure...

Leslie Thompkins: The Ideal Surrogate Mother

Goddamn it, HOW has this not been an established thing? What's worse is how Leslie's been treated in both the comics and adaptations. Because lemme tell you, one of the main reasons I hate Gotham is because of how poorly they fucked up Dr. Leslie Thompkins. And I'm willing to bet some of you don't know who she is. Well, allow me to share with you this forgotten and mistreated character in Batman lore, and why she really should have been the surrogate mother Batman never had. And I'm not alone in that interpretation, but that role's been largely forgotten, thanks to one horrendous decision that was made with her character.

Dr. Leslie Thompkins, in the comics, was a colleague and friend of Thomas Wayne. Which, yeah, makes sense, considering the fact that she's a doctor. Leslie, however, was a charitable doctor, caring for the downtrodden and forgotten of Gotham, after having served overseas with charitable organizations and the like. She's always cared for the unfortunate, and has therefore been close to Batman's world in many ways. She eventually finds out that Bruce is Batman, and she typically doesn't approve. She actually blames herself for failing to pull Bruce out of the darkness as a role model, and because of that blame...

...she does something completely unforgivable. Leslie Thompkins is the victim of one of the worst character assassinations in comic books, and it all centers around Stephanie Brown's death.

Stephanie Brown, best known as Batgirl, was once the replacement for Tim Drake as Robin. But, during this particularly shitty era in Batman's history, Bruce didn't really care for her as a superhero much, and treated her unfairly compared to the other Robins. It was a real shit time, and Batman didn't really make it out of this era unscathed either. But more importantly, Stephanie didn't make it out because she was grievously injured by criminal Black Mask.

While she was the vigilante Spoiler, and trying to prove herself once again, Black Mask brought her close to death, after which she came under the care of Leslie. Acting under the belief that Bruce should stop bringing children into his struggles, she seemingly lets Stephanie die to teach Bruce a lesson. YOU FUCKING READ THAT CORRECTLY. Leslie Thompkins kills a teenager just to teach Bruce to stop putting teenagers in danger. Yeah. She's a murderer, and literally flees the country to escape Bruce's RIGHTFUL RETRIBUTION. He find her, and states that she's dead to him. Which, yeah, fuck that shit.

The outrage about this was SO VISCERAL, that this was later retconned as Leslie faking Stephanie's death to teach Bruce a lesson. And yeah, it means she isn't a murderer, BUT SHE'S STILL A DICK. This ruined Leslie permanently, and the character who was once a staple part of the Batman Family has never fully recovered. A shame. Because Leslie has way more potential than that.

Oh, look! Another fucked up version of a beloved Batman supporting character! Yeah, Gotham decided to turn Leslie, played by the underrated Morena Baccarin, into a love interest for James Gordon, then a FUCKING CRIME LORD alongside the Riddler of all fucking people, and then eventually had her reunited with and married to Gordon by the end of the series. This was another assassination of a character who, frankly, bears no resemblance to Leslie Thompkins.

There was a version of the character who made an appearance in Titans, but she was a therapist, and only made a single appearance in the series. So, really, there's only one version of the character that's gotten the essence of Leslie right. And unsurprisingly, that's in Batman: The Animated Series.

Making few appearances in the series, where she's voiced by Diana Muldaur, the ones they did throw in got Leslie right. Aware of Batman's identity from the jump, she cares deeply for Bruce and his family, and is a member of the small Batman alliance to the modern day. She clearly cares for Bruce, but also cares for the other people in Park Row and the neighborhood surrounding it, becoming a predominant doctor for the disadvantages. Again, as she should be.

So, who is my Leslie? Definitely more critical of Batman and his mission than Alfred is, but still loyal and interested in supporting him. Not the mission, Batman. However, she also recognizes that he's doing good, and while she absolutely disagrees with bringing children into this, she also recognizes the reasons behind these actions. After all, Dick's also an orphan; Jason's a runaway; Tim, Barbara, and Stephanie are basically independent, and Damian is his literal son and a child assassin. Sort of makes sense when you pile it all together like that. So, while she's critical, she's also compassionate.

Oh, and one more thing here: Leslie is Martha's friend, obviously. Yeah, I get that both she and Thomas are doctors, but my version of Martha has far more in common with Leslie than Thomas does. They're the ones who become close friends, and Leslie is the one who acts as a surrogate parent. Now, unlike Batman and Alfred, I don't know that Leslie and Batman consciously acknowledge that bond. But nevertheless, the bond still exists between them.

And there you have it: Batman's parents, living and dead. Now that that's done, let's talk about the other staple character in Batman's life. Oh, and you might be wondering about the Robins. We'll get there, I promise, but I'm focusing more on Batman than anything else. For now, though, let's talk about the other crimefighters in Gotham. Or, at least, the people who are supposed to fight crime.

Part One: Batman Part Two: Alfred and the Waynes Part Three: James Gordon and the GCPD (Coming Soon) Part Four: Gotham City (Coming Soon) Part Five: Joker (Coming Soon) Part Six: The Usual Suspects (Coming Soon) Part Seven: And the Rest (Coming Soon) Part Eight: The Story - Act One (Coming Soon) Part Nine: The Story - Acts Two and Three (Coming Soon) Part Ten: The Story - Climax and Ending (Coming Soon) Part Eleven: Epilogue (Coming Soon)

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