Jðkêr//Är†hµr x RêåÐêr ïmågïñê§ & ðñê-§hð†§

• Once Upon A Time In Gotham (Pt.1)

: IMAGINE : When Arthur meets his most favourite actress (y/n) it's like a dream come true for him and then some. But your meeting is only the beginning. This was requested by Avengerssoulmate whom I'd like to thank for asking me to write this

⚠️ warning: will contain mild smut in part 5.

--1st person POV--

8:45pm

Arthur was sitting on the packed bus and had been for the past hour.
He hated Wednesdays, but this Wednesday in particular was turning out to be even worse than usual.

Every Wednesday he had to attend a meeting with his social worker. He resented having to travel across town during early morning rush hour to make the 10:30am appointment, then be kept waiting in the reception area for twenty minutes, only to be asked the same series of questions. It never made him feel better, if anything it only made his anxiety worse.
Then when the thirty minute session was over he had to go straight to work and face another day of ridicule, mockery, or worse.

Due to a current rail strike he'd been forced to take the bus today which had been incredibly stressful. He'd had a rough day at work, having been chewed-out by Hoyt, then gone straight on to the hospital to visit his mom, who's health had taken a recent downturn.
And now? Now he was stuck in a traffic jam, on a stuffy bus with lots of fractious commuters who weren't able to catch their usual train.

"The fuck is with this traffic at this time of night?"

Arthur overheard the man in front say aloud, as if to himself.

"Oh, they're filming some movie up on 180first, so most the roads have been closed off." A 2nd man explained. "Didn't you see it on the news?"

Arthur didn't hear any more of the conversation. His attention had been piqued by such an unexpected revelation.
They were making a movie in Gotham?
Why?
That seemed like such a highly unlikely scenario. Gotham was so grim and bleak. Why would anyone in their right mind want to shoot a movie in this city?

Deciding he'd make it home quicker on foot, he cut his losses and got off the bus, toting his bag of clothes with him.
Other than his shoes, he hadn't even bothered changing out of his clown get-up.

Trudging along the dimly lit streets he walked passed the mountains of garbage piled up at the roadside, keeping his head down and not making eye contact with any of the rowdy drunks, or shady-looking characters he encountered along the way.
The last thing he needed was trouble. He was too weary to take another physical beating after the day he'd had.

Unfortunately for him though his clown costume was a magnet for trouble. It seemed to attract every little punk and grown thug within a 50 mile radius.

"Nice costume, prick!"

He suddenly heard from behind him. He didn't dare turn around. Just kept his head down and quickened his pace a little.

"Hey asshole, I'm talking to you." The voice came again.

Arthur walked a little faster.

"You deaf, numbnuts? Or is that dumb wig covering your ears?" A second heckler joined in.

Arthur's heart sank. When there was more than one he was bound to get jumped.

Hearing the shuffling of rapidly-approaching footsteps he sprung forwards and broke into a run, surprising himself. His survival instinct overrode his tiredness, somehow finding the will and the energy to flee his pursuers.
Thank god he'd changed his shoes. Those clown shoes just weren't practical when it came to running for your life.