#Joker (2019) fanfiction

[jokeringcutio]

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

YES, That IS going to happen.

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

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“Josh! Your mother is waiting for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes locked and time stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Albert surprised you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you around, little miss teacher.”

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

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

And then you were round the corner and gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were oblivious to what you had started.

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

[jakegyllenbaalz]

joker comic book covers

[star-dust-stuf]

Arthur Fleck x fem!reader

title: baby, think you’re bad?

warnings: violence, harassment

a/n: I wanted to write this because I think I’d be flattered if someone killed for me tbh, sorry for any typos, as always enjoy!

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it was the last place I wanted to be, about nine at night on an empty bus- I wish it was empty all there was where three men sitting across me laughing like they where drunk and a man dressed as a clown a little farther from me but he didn’t seem to bother me as much as the drunk men across me. All the man in the clown suit did was mind his business, didn’t even look at me half the ride but he did when the men started to bother me and he saw it.

“Hey?” One of the men said, waving his hand to get my attention. I didn’t look up from my lap that my purse was sitting beside me and I was gripping on edge.

“Hello?!” He was getting angry I could tell by his voice, didn’t look.

“He’s trying to be nice, hey?” The other one day next to him, I saw by his shoes.

I turned my head slowly to the clown, a tear formed in my eye from fear and he saw this. He glanced at me and the men, again and again before on of the men threw a piece of rolled up paper at me that he grabbed from his pocket. I mad wit clear I was crying and they began to mock me.

“Aw, don’t cry!” They mocked, one of them touched my shoulder and slid next to me, he touched my thigh.

I tried to get up but he grabbed my wrist and sat me back down. “Let go of me!” I didn’t sound scared as much as I was.

All the sudden my attention was drawn to the man far from me, he began to laugh uncontrollably it seemed he couldn’t help it. “Something funny?” The man sat up and got towards him.

He still laughed and covered his mouth, they mocked him, laughing along and on of them even sat beside him, talk his wig off showing his brown hair that gleamed in the dim light as it flickered.

“I- have a- c- condition!” He laughed as he reached for his bag.

“This your friend?” The man said looking at me.

I didn’t say no or yes, I was too busy with the man next to me, he took it upon himself to put his hand on the back of my head, when my tears grew stronger he pulled my hair hard enough for me to yell out in pain.

Laughing, the man got up after the others knocked the bag from his hand, he heard me cry and felt to do something. I saw him reach in his back pocket but the man knocked him to the floor. The two men kicked him, the clown stayed down, not fighting, he was building the courage I saw on his face he was.

Holding himself he got fed up. A loud shot echoed and a yell escaped on of the men who slammed his body on the wall of the train, leaving a blood trail that stained. The other two men jumped, this time the clown had the gun pointed at the man next to me. He got up, hands in the air and he didn’t hesitate to shoot him down.

I screamed aloud and got to the floor, dragging myself to the door and putting my knees to my chest, my head faced down. One last man ended up making to the other part of the train and of course the clown followed, I heard the shots far from me.

Crying as the tears stained the floor under me, it was silent and all I could do was stay still, I had no choice but to pray to myself. Rocking back and forth I felt a gloved hand on my bare knee. I jumped.

“It’s ok..” I heard the clown say, he breathed heavily, his gun lied beside him as he was on his knees. His makeup was ruined, sweat drowned his makeup the blue was on his chin and the red stained his neck.

I looked at his gun, my tears swelled. “No- it’s ok I won’t hurt you!” He pushed his gun behind him.

He softly put my knees down, then putting my dress down over them to make me more comfortable, he was polite, and kind. He looked at me with his eyes, his so soft eyes. He was scared for himself, he’s never killed anyone and I saw that in his face.

“T- thank you.” I whispered to him.

He glanced at me, he was overall shocked. “What?”

I chocked, “thank you…”

He tilted his head, “why?”

“You helped me.”

“But I killed them.”

I shrugged, wiping the tears from my cheeks, “and?” He smiled, “is that really a- a condition?” I sniffed.

He tripped on his words. “Yeah.”

I nodded, “are you ok?”

He noticed I saw him being beaten on the ground. “Yeah…”

“Can I walk you home?”

“I killed three men, and you want to walk me home?”

I nodded, I wasn’t even thinking about what he did only why he did it, why did he do it? As we walked up the steps and I to a long tunnel to the city I wanted to know. He was tripping over his oversized shoes and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Why did you- do that?” I held my arms in the cold.

“They wouldn’t leave you alone, I guess I did it for myself too.” He saw me shivering.

Reaching into his bag he grabbed his oversized coat as well, matching his overall outfit. He put it over my shoulders and his sweet smile shined through his makeup. “Thanks.”

“Why aren’t you scared?” He questioned me.

I shrugged, “I guess I’m just grateful someone was there or it could’ve been worse.” He looked down at the wet pavement and smiled to his large shoes.

[tally-kiza]

hello! I was curious, if sometime in the future you could do a Arthur fleck x gender neutral reader, where the reader just gives arthur all the praise, love and care he deserves? Possible smut, if ur up to it 🤭. I think arthur would absolutely just melt at any type of praise, especially from his lover. I imagine he can’t help but cover his flushed face as he’s showered with kisses and love 😖😖😖 thanks for being an amazing author, luv ur work!

I may have forgotten about this ask until a week ago when I realized Arthur's birthday was coming up. 😂 I figured this would work very well for a little birthday fic. 👀👀

*

Mine And Only Mine

Word Count: 1774

November 21st.

A day you had been looking forward to all month.

Arthur’s special day. The first one that you would be celebrating together.

The heavy weight of a skinny arm slung over your waist beckoned you out of slumber. The fog of sleep lifted, replaced by the warmth of the man nestled against you. Your birthday boy, you thought with a sleepy grin. Your tired eyes cracked open, taking in the vision before you.

Arthur was facing you. His long dark hair was mussed and tangled, curled strands fallen in front of his face, slightly obscuring his handsome features. The midmorning sun rays casted him in warm light. You took a moment to take him in. The gentle curve of his pointed nose; strong cheekbones slowly becoming more full with your every home-cooked meal; prominent collarbones exposed by the open collar of his brown polo shirt, inviting you to kiss and lick. Gentle eyes now closed, minutely fluttering as he dreamed. His face was soft and relaxed. He looked younger, peaceful... almost happy. You wondered what he was dreaming about. His warmth seeped into your heart, making everything feel fuzzy. Arthur’s struggles, his mentality, his everyday stresses and worries, all of them were out of sight and out of mind when he slept, when he was cuddled closely against you. These early mornings were often the happiest you saw Arthur. 

But not today. Your Arthur deserved a birthday free of his usual stresses and anxieties, at least just one day. And you were determined to keep his struggles as far from his mind as you could manage.

You squirmed ever so closer, forehead resting against his. Arthur didn’t even stir. You softened; he must have been exhausted, writing late into last night trying to workshop some new jokes he had thought up. He worked so hard to achieve his brightest dream.

An inkling of an idea blotted in your mind. As softly as you possibly could, you pressed your lips to his forehead over the messy strands of his hair. And then another. And another. A smattering of smooches to his forehead, his hairline, the space between his brows. Arthur made a small noise, soft and cute. Arthur’s eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t quite stir awake. But there were more kisses where those came from.

Slowly you trailed kisses over his face. Gentle presses of your lips to Arthur’s eyelids, down the slope of his nose, over striking cheekbones, and the corners of his thin lips. But never quite on his lips directly; your first true kiss together had to wait until he was awake.

As you kissed, Arthur was slowly roused out of slumber. 

His breathing turned deeper, more regular. He made another soft noise, music to your ears, dimples deepening with a growing grin. You pressed a kiss to the crinkles at the corner of his eyes and smiled in turn. With a slight squint, Arthur’s tired eyes cracked open. They peered at you with mirth. 

“I thought I was just dreaming this up,” Arthur mumbled. His voice was low and creaky with sleep, but playfulness lingered at the edges. It stoked a small flame of warmth in your belly.

“What, this?” you teased, voice just as groggy, pressing another kiss to the scar just above his lip. 

His lips pursed. Still foggy with sleep, his eyes held little of their usual intensity as they locked with yours. “Yes,” he said softly. “And you.”

Your heart turned to putty in your chest. Arthur struck you off-guard so often with sweet words tinged with melancholy. 

“Not this time, handsome.” Eyes slipping closed, you kissed his lips directly. 

It started soft and tender, quiet lips on quiet lips, but Arthur being Arthur, it didn’t remain that way for long. His arm pulled you closer against him; your hand tangled in his messy curls. You molded against him like you were the matching pieces of a puzzle. Fitting together was what you were made for.

It was you who pulled away first. Arthur’s lips sought yours still, but you kept away from his tempting kiss as you both laughed. Your forehead rested against his. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Green eyes stared into yours, wide with surprise. He sounded so small when he spoke. “You... remembered?”

“Of course,” you said, grabbing one of Arthur’s hands and lacing your fingers together. You pressed another peck to his cheek. “It’s your big day; how could I have forgotten?”

“No one’s ever... remembered my birthday before,” he whispered. The bed shook minutely and you knew he was bouncing his foot. Anxiety creeped at him still; you knew you couldn’t let it linger. “Even I forget some years.”

Your hand cradled Arthur’s face. His eyes were shiny and wet, and his eyebrows twitched with soft emotion as you kissed his forehead. 

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “But―” Another kiss, and yet another. “― I think that means we have a lot of birthdays to catch up on celebrating, don’t you?”

He closed his eyes. Voice thick with emotion, he whispered, “That would be nice. ...For years, all I have wanted was someone to share it with. I dreamed about it for so long...”

Arthur sniffled and kissed your wrist still cradling his face. “And now I do.”

Warmth filled your chest. “You do, Arthur. You do. I swear, you’ll always have me.”

After a beat, with a soft breath, he melted into you. The tension in him released; his body sagged against yours. Though his arms kept you pressed close against him. “You’re perfect,” Arthur mumbled. 

“I should be saying that about you,” you said, voice thick with adoration and love. You nuzzled your nose against his, gentle point against gentle point. “Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you...”

The lines around Arthur’s eyes crinkled; the shadows of dimples appeared around his shy, boy-like smile. Bashful was a look you always adored seeing on him; your affection only grew. 

You couldn’t keep your lips from brushing his nose. “Someone so endlessly sweet...” 

Then his scar. “With such a tender, gentle heart...” 

―The mole on his right cheek. “And the cutest jokes...”

―The sensitive shell of his ear, along with a soft bite that drew a small moan out of him. You smirked. “Not to mention, with that beautiful body.”

Arthur curled further into you. You could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. Even after the months you’ve spent together, the intimate nights you’ve spent in bed, devoting yourself to his body, and he to yours, he could be so shy. The result of spending almost thirty-four years alone and craving for affection and attention, you supposed. He was still unused to it, in many ways.

It only spurred more loving. 

You brushed the hair out of his face as you tangled your hands into his greasy curls, fully exposing his beautiful features. Arthur’s broad forehead beckoned.

“I’ve never met someone like you before,” you said, with a smattering of kisses to his forehead.

One broad hand sneaked under your shirt, caressing your back, keeping you ever closer to him. Your skin electrified under his touch.

“You understand me like no one else has,” you sighed. One tender peck to his asymmetrical hairline. A second. Before your lips traveled south, pecking a trail down his nose again to connect with his lips. 

Your connection warmed your cheeks, matching Arthur’s own flush. Both of you smiled into the kiss. Arthur pressed all of his tender love against you. Your shirt was pushed up and his hand traveled up your back; his tongue slipped into your mouth, caressing your own. His lithe hips molded against yours and you swear you could feel the beginning stirrings of his erection. Your own arousal was stoked from embers. Fog clouded your mind, lost in this pleasure, in his love.

It was Arthur who separated first. His forehead thumped softly against yours. His cheek and lips were still flushed, and yours were probably just as bright. Voice thick with emotion, he whispered your name.

In response―”Yes?”

Green eyes were half closed, eyelashes fluttered as he stared downwards, away from your gaze. Shy again, after leaving you warm enough to melt a glacier. His smile grew, twitched, preening as he considered.

“Could you... could you keep going? ...I like hearing you say those things.”

Mirth and soft amusement filled you. “Yeah?” 

“I like it a lot.“ Arthur’s eyes were wet when they stared into yours. “...Please?”

How could you resist your gentle-hearted lover? “Of course I can, darling.”.

But before you could lay an ounce more of affection on him, he spoke, fingers softly wandering on your skin. “Y’know? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you either. I know it sounds silly but, my whole life, I’ve thought so much about my perfect person. Someone who would actually see me. Someone who could understand me. Someone kind.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And you’re kind. So kind. It hurts sometimes.”

“Arthur,” you cooed, eyes pricking with tears.

He murmured your name again. You always adored the way it slipped off his tongue, not in an elegant roll, not like cascading water, but in the whisper of an autumn leaf floating on the breeze. “You’re my perfect person. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Gentle sun rays had slid in the window, lighting up Arthur from behind. His dark hair shimmered in multi-colored strands of copper, chocolate, auburn, chestnut, gold. His face was still cast in shadow, but he seemed to glow regardless. It was as much from his love as it was from the sunlight.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either,” you soothed, voice thick as honey. “But we’ll never have to. I’m yours, Arthur. And only yours. We’ve only been each others’ for a few months, but I know in my heart, that’s not going to change.”

“Mine...” Arthur whispered, almost too quietly to hear as you returned to laying gentle kiss after gentle kiss on his face, soon followed by more further below. Relief, wistfulness, tenderness, joy, solace all swirled in his voice. His words caressed your heart as gently as any brush of his lips. As the sun rose higher in the sky and the chilly November day warmed, you made good on your promise to make this Arthur’s best birthday yet. To make up for every cold, lonely birthday he’s ever had before. And you would make good on this promise every year on November 21st. For as long as Arthur would have you. 

“...And only mine.”

[arthurflecksgirl]

"Halo"

Word count : 3000

TW : Quick mentions of injury/Jail life

Summary : This scenery is inspired by some scenes from the teaser trailer but Harley free. Reader is visiting Arthur in his cell, comforting him which ends up being a healing experience for both of them.

The smell of garbage and hopelessness was hanging in the air like thick smoke. The instant chattering of the inmates impossible to keep you from feeling it in your bones. You begged for some white noise, for a sound less tormenting. Soon you will be able to hear his voice. Soothing, even if it was cracking. Only a few more steps down the stained hallways, passing some more guards, hearing some more screams and shouts. Laughter coming from a cell nearby. It wasnˋt him but you could tell it was some other inmate trying to mimic his cries. They probably didnt even know it was a cry. In here, he was the man who laughs. Always. The mocking sound send shivers down your spine. It  hurt you deep down in your heart, which was so full of love for this man, it didnt had any capacy left for anything else. You could tell by the way they tried to imitate his laughter, that they didnt knew about the painful source it was emerging from. That he had to fight it all his life. To endure it when he felt it crawling up his throat when in reality he was begging for a single tear to run down his cheek. Sometimes the tear would come but only from fighting so hard against the laughter. To them he was the man who never cried. Humiliation? He would be the man who laughs. Tasting someones fist and his own blood? He would be the man who laughs. Eletroshock therapy……

You fought for a long time to be allowed to visit him in his cell. Without the cold, stained glass between his skin and yours. Sometimes when the glass got all foggy from his breath you envied the surface for being covered with what was part of him. You wish it was your skin feeling the moist fog coming out of his mouth after he was cracking a joke that would only make you laugh.

You didnˋt notice your fingers starting to crumble the letter you were holding. The one you wrote for him  a week ago, so he had something to hold on to when you were back home again. Home. Who were you even kidding? Home was where he was, and if that meant home was a filthy cell in Arkham state hospital, then so it be.

 You would take off your clothes, fold them and put them under his sleepy head at night. Arthur rarely had been sleepy before,insomnia was holding him tight in itˋs claws, but the doctors made sure to keep him calmer. They made sure the man who laughs isnt laughing all through the night.

Even though it was never quiet in the hallways. Never a moment of rest, you knew that on his side, with your sweater functioning as a shared, tiney pillow it would work out somehow to find some peace. Even if only for a moment, even if only for a lullaby long. You would hum and sing him to sleep while youˋre touching his unwashed, curly hair. And his tiney body would soon stop shaking underneath your loving hands.The shakyness would come back in waves with every glimpse of a nightmare but you would be still awake,making sure he will be comforted by your hand on his forehead. A sweet, warm kiss or two or countless to make him drift back to sleep, even though he promised not to fall asleep to not miss a minute with you.

 But sleeping in your arms was not wasted time. It was the most precious gift under the sky. Especially in here. Your arms, a shelter within a cell. A tent within a harsh reality that wasnˋt able to effect him as baldy anymore. He knew that if he reached out to his own head he would find your hand. He would have proof the sensation of a hand in his hair wasnˋt just a dream. There was an arm and a shoulder to lie on. There was you.

„Miss,you now have an hour with Mr. Fleck.“ The Guards voice woke you out of your thoghts and you realized what you did to the letter in your hands „Dammit, what was I thinking?“ you cursed as you tried to even out the paper. The letter was important. It was something real, something physical to touch.

The door made a heavy sound as it opened. You could get a glimpse of Arthur through the small window which said „E258“.

Was that all he was to them? A number? While his name sounded like a poem to you, this number written on the door of his cell seemed like an insult which tried to strip him off his personality. You wondered who the other inmates were before they had been put in here and given a number. What their story was and what dreams they had before they ended up sounding like one pile of unbearable noise.

You wondered about if anyone in here was treating Arthur nicely. If he made some friends.

„Miss?“ the guard nodded as he pointed inside the claustrophobic space.

Then you saw him.

His gloomy eyes deperately searching for something that feels real. His tiney frame cradeling itself back and forth. There was so comfort here except a vivid dream world in your own mind. The memory of a song you used to love when you  were still able to see the blue skies whenever you wanted to.

 You hoped that he still had this amount of imagination. To make the black and greys his favourite colors. To make the mocking laughter coming from the other cells his favourite songs. You wondered if he ever danced around his cell on sleepless nights , imagining you between his arms. You craved to be the ghost of Arkham staying with Arthur night and day. Less like a spirit but more like an guardin angel wrapping him in golden, protective light.   

When the door fell open Arthur was barely reacting. He doubted it to be happening like everything else around him, including himself. The guard told you something else but you  werenˋt listening. All you could hear was Arthurs silent hum. Quiet as it was,to you it seemed more dominant than the arguments and fights going on a couple of feet away. It was like the place was filled with Arthur. His hums and heavy dreams, his sweat, tears and breath.

„Hey, my love“ you said, you could barely stand to be still a couple of steps away from him, but you wanted to give him a moment to realize you were real. Arthurs white undershirt was hanging loosely on his skinny body. He must have lost even more weight since last time you saw him.

Arthur was looking at the dim light that came from the ceiling. As if your voice was coming from there. He looked exhausted from always dreaming but never sleeping.

„Darling?“ you carefully kneed down beside him. His hands still wrapped around his knees, while he as sitting on the floor beside his so called bed. For a moment you thought that seeing him in his cell was actually worse than getting to see him behind the glass window. Wittnessing the reality of his every day life in here was unbearable. You desperately wanted him to get out of here. To bring him dinner to a sun flooded kitchen table, to wrap him into a fuzzy blanket.

„….is love, sweet love…“ he hummed quietly as he finally looked at you. His eyes trying to adjust his new reality.

„Y/N?“

„Yeah, its me. I am here now, Arthur. Do you hear me? Itˋs okay. I am here“ You placed the letter on the small table.

Arthur closed his eyes and smiled as if he was trying to absorb the information. To see if it would still be real when he opened his eyes again.

You started at him, waiting for him to do so. Desperately longing for looking into his eyes. He still kept them closed.

„…its the only thing…..“

He continued cradeling himself

„….there is just…….“

„Arthur? „

„….too little of….“

He quietly chuckled as he re opened his eyes. An emerald green universe of dreams. He opened his arms , waiting for you to get into his embrace. Eyes awkwardly focused on nothing. But his grin spoke more than words. He knew. He knew it was you.

You threw yourself into his arms within a second but yet you felt weightless, almost non existend as you fell onto his body. Did you become a dream the moment he held you? Part of his wold that was created out of imagination and hopes? Arthur was still hoping. For colors, for music and love. He was still craving after all he had to endure in here. Craving to be held.

His hold was surprisingly strong despite his weak body. You felt it while your own body seemed to disappear. You wanted to be real for him but if you were a dream……oh boy, if you were a dream you could stay with him forever and never had to leave for a single moment in time again. Time, space, cellar doors or rules……Nothing could effect you anymore. A dream can stay with you in every situation. Asleep or awake. You so desperately wanted to be his.

„Youˋre…here?!“

He needed this to be real.

You needed this to be real.

For once.

You coudnt talk as you opened your eyes. Can dreams talk back to you? You bet they can.

He needed your body to be something to touch. Not just a shilloutette of light standing beside his bed at night. Like an angel. Like something heavenly he made up in this hell that was these four walls.

The light coming from the ceiling crowned his head like a halo as he adjusted his position to hold you tighter. How ironic that this place which treated him as a dangerous criminal made him look like a saint.

Arthur shifted into your arms. The halo was gone. He wasnt standing in the light anymore.

But he was the light. He was tenderness. Holding him might have lasted a minute or an entire lifetime. It didnt matter as long as it lasted. Arms around bodies and  souls merging. Time is nothing.

After a little eternity of holding his little frame he stood there with his arms hanging from both sides of him. As if he didnt knew what to do with them anymore, now that they didnt held you.

„Arthur?“

„Hmm?“

„Could you….maybe take a step to the left side?“

He looked confused

„Is there something wrong?“

„No, ist just….I wanna see the real  you“

And as your right hand gently pushed Arthur  into position, the light  coming from the ceiling was crowning his head, making his curls look lighter in color. Making his halo shine.

Arthur smiled. Every single line that was carved into his handsome face moved, getting deeper.

„Perfect“ you whispered.

Arthur didnt even ask. He trusted you. He didnt move until you came towards him and hugged him again. This time you wanted to hold him tighter but you didnt dare to. Fragile as he seemed you were afraid to hurt him. Telling from the exposed skin on his chest and arms he suffered multiple bruises and cigarette burns.

„Who did this to you,love?“ it was hard to hold back the tears now.

Arthurs hands didnt move,lying on your back like they had always been there.

„I….um…I….canˋt remember“ he mumbled into the crook of  your neck.

„…but ist….fine…Iˋm getting…I think I am getting better. You know i´ve been thinking of some real good jokes. Of songs even. I was wondering if I could mix the two? Music and comedy and come up with a funny tune to make the days go by easier….and…I was wondering if….“

His voice cracked

„If what, Arthur?“ you losened the embrace to hold his face in your hands.

He swallowed hard „….Nevermind“

„You can tell me“

„I know“

„But itˋs okay if you canˋt right now“

Arthur nodded gratefully. Somehow all he needed was silence shared with you. The chattering down the halls became ore and more distant. Mutet even. By the music he was hearing when he looked at you. He wonˋt tell you. Not for now. But one day he will. One sweet day he would tell you about the song that was you.

„I wrote you a letter. Its actually not even close to what I have to say. But…“

„I am sure ist just perfect“ he muttered with a crocked smile. Eyes more focused now. „Thank you“.

You noticed a small wound on his temples ,placing a gentle kiss upon it.

„You know they say laughter is  the best medicine“ he said „But I disagree with them here. This is.“

You started kissing every inch of his face. Every wrinkle, every pore, the scar on his upper lip. You felt his mouth forming a smile when you did. And even if it was just wishful thinking, it felt like he was healing in your hands. Arthurs hand searched for yours while he hesitated about kissing you back. He was not used to this. The two of you had kissed before but he still remained rather insecure about being physical. He wasnˋt sure about how to act around someone he  was in love with. What if the way he was talking to you was not the way he was supposed to? If he said something wrong that would make you like him less? But then again….he knew deep inside that if there was one person in the world he could be himself with, it was you. If only he knew himself better. Sometimes he didnˋt knew what to do, how to act or who to be. But with you he felt like you truly saw something in him. And he wanted to be this man you saw when you looked at him.

The man with the halo.

Arthurs hand was holding yours inside his palms now. Carefully at first until it grew into a tight grip.

„You came“ he breathed into your face.

„Of course I did, darling.“

He let go of your hand „Iˋve made something for you“

Arthur nervously turned around to reach for a small object lying on the floor underneath the tiney window which barely let any sunlight in. He kept it in his left hand while he lit himself a cigarette.

„Oh, what is it?“

Arthur exhaled some smoke as he opened his hand.

„Um…we are not allowed to keep a lot of stuff in here….but….Iˋve collected some stones and Iˋve been carving this one here until it looked like a ….um…heart. Well…It was more like Iˋve been rubbing it against stuff because obviously we canˋt keep any sharp objects here. So….it….does not even look like a real heart… I am sorry….Itˋs….probably just some random, fucked up stone…Iˋm…“

You took the small object and kissed it. It was the most beautiful gift youˋve ever receiced.

„Itˋs beautiful…“

Arthur laughed. It was a geniue laugh.

„ Y/N? Are you crying or what?“

Now you had to laugh too.

„I guess I am“

„Iˋm glad you like it but itˋs really not that special“

„Oh, Arthur, belive me. It is.“

You carefully put the stone that had been carved by Arthur very own hands into your backpack. You will keep it under your pillow, once you arrived  at your apartment that should be the apartment of the two of you. The home that kept him save and sound. The kitchen that tranformed into the perfect venue for a waltz at 3 am. The smell of home cooked meals and tangerines filling the air.

„Will you lie down with me for a bit?“ Arthur puffed away his cigarette as he pointed to the dirty bedsheets „Iˋm sorry itˋs not that cosy. I wish I could offer you something more…“

As you crawled under the sheets with him, he lay on his back, his head turned to the side so he could face you, watching as you took your sweater off to place it gently under his head. He twitched when you accidentally touched his wound.

„Oh, Iˋm sorry my love. Better?“

„Yeah“ he whispered, as he pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray lying on the worn out bunk bed.

He buried his face into the fabric. It would be so much easier to cope having a piece of you to sleep on.

You worried about how it was probably not allowed to gift him a sweater you brought but for now his lovely head was resting on it while a peaceful look crossed his exhausted face and that was all that mattered.

You lay down beside him, using his chest as your own pillow, able to feel his sharp ribs sticking out. His hollowed out belly rising up and down with every breath.

„Did you eat something today?“

He didnt answer, afraid to worry you even more.

„Do you think I am allowed to bring you home cooked meals?“

Arthur sighed „Umm…I donˋt think so…Itˋs okay. Iˋm not even hungry“

A silent tear rolled down your cheek. Half of worry half of happiness to have him near.

„I like my new sweater pillow. It smells just like you“ he smiled, trying to hide his own concern that it might be taken away from him soon.

„You know, Iˋve got a lot of time in here. To dream I mean. To work on jokes in my head and think of songs. Sometimes I can hear the music coming out of the lamp on the ceiling. But only when the lights are on. Strange isnˋt it?“

You combed his hair with your fingers „Arthur, when you are out of here…One day you will be telling all these jokes in crowded comedy clubs and singing all those songs in Gothams most famous Jazz clubs. And I will be there clapping along with the audience before you go off stage to grab my hand and go home to our kids who watched it on live tv and are so proud of their dad.“

Arthur started humming  an unknown song that he made up in multiple versions . Each song lyric with a different kinda ending. There were so many options to choose from and he liked that.

„This sounds like my favourite version“ he whisperd bewteen the hums.

And for a moment you could have sworn the light coming from the ceiling started flickering and flooded the grey cell in golden spotlights.

[ohallthecrushes]

May I get Arthur x Reader. Reader has heat exhaustion and Arthur cools them of after they pass out. I'm hot afff now lmaooo

A/N: thank you for your request. This has been in my drafts for ages, oh dear lord. 😅 I remember I thought I published it, but I didnt. I'm sorry.

Words count:416

The scorching sun beat down relentlessly on the city as the heatwave engulfed Gotham. You and Arthur decided to take a stroll in the park, hoping for some respite from the oppressive heat. But the unforgiving weather took its toll on you, and you soon found yourself feelin dizzy and weak from heat exhaustion.

"Arthur?" You whispered in a weak voice alarming him.

Concerned, Arthur looked at you. He saw you were about to pass out and quickly led you to a shaded bench under a large tree. You sat down and he cupped your face in his hands, worry etched across his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You looked at him, into his green eyes, and tried to nod but your head was spinning too much. "I-I think I just need some water," you managed to whisper before everything went black, and you passed out in Arthur's arms.

Panicking, Arthur quickly sprang into action.

"Oh no, oh no." He murmured to himself.

He gently cradled you on the bench and rushed to find a water fountain, tripping over his feet. When he returned, he gently splashed water on your face, hoping to revive you.

"Come on, please wake up," he urged softly, his heart pounding with worry. "I'm here, and I won't leave your side."

He covered his mouth to suppress his laughing fit, hoping it won't hit him right now.

Slowly, you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open. Arthur's relief was palpable, his panic slowly ceasing as he continued to cool you down with water, gently brushing your forehead with his wet sleeve.

"You scared me," he confessed, his soft voice wavering slightly, his brows slightly knitted. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

You managed a weak smile, touched by Arthur's concern. His face was all you could see as it was only inches away from yours, "Thank you for taking care of me," you murmured, your voice still shaky.

Arthur smiled back, his eyes filled with genuine affection. "Always, I'll always take care of you," he vowed, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As the sun gradually set, the heat began to subside, and the cool breeze provided much-needed relief. your strength returned, thanks to Arthur's loving support, and you two walked home together, hand in hand, knowing you had someone to lean on in both the scorching heat and the darkest moments of life. You were utterly thankful for that.

[bonzo2024]

Joker x Fnaf fanart

@ajokeformur-ray what do u think of my Joker x Fnaf crossover AU where Arthur is secretly one of the Afton children and Clara put him up for adoption cuz she found out William was behind the murders? And then years later after he gets fired from Hahas he gets a job at Freddy’s and starts seeing the animatronics and his therapist tells him it’s all a hallucination. But then he meets Michael Afton and Michael tells Arthur everything. And then they kill William and become friends? IDK I had a dream about it and made this sooooo… just wanted to see ur opinion cuz ur literally my writing inspiration🤗

[these-written-reveries]

Arthur Fleck/Phoenix!Joker Masterlist

Main Masterlist

• Unless specified, all writings are character x gn!reader (gender-neutral).

• NSFW/Smut writings will be tagged (18+). Minors, please DNI.

• Have an idea for a fic you’d like me to write? Send me a request here. But first, make sure to read my Request Info!

• If you’d like to join the tag list for Arthur Fleck/P!Joker, or be tagged in all of my future writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message!

*Masterlist Created: 4/9/23

*Last Updated: 4/9/23

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Arthur Fleck

F=fluff, A=angst, (18+)=smut/nsfw

One Shots:

These Foolish Things (F)

‣Summary: A peek into Y/N and Arthur’s day as they notice all the little things that remind them of each other…

By Your Side (F, A)

‣Summary: You forget to call Arthur to let him know you’ll be working late, which results in Arthur spiraling into a breakdown after convincing himself you left him.

Just You and Me (F, A)

‣Summary: You show up at Arthur’s door, struggling and in desperate need of him and his love. Don’t worry, Arthur will take good care of you.

The Spark (F)

‣Summary: After years of searching and failing to find ‘the spark’ that lovers always talked about, you began to think it wasn’t a real possibility for you. That was, until you stumbled into a man by the name of Arthur Fleck.

Series:

Prompts:

Headcanons:

Drabbles:

‣ Sharing Your Deepest/Darkest Thoughts w/Arthur

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Phoenix!Joker

F=fluff, A=angst, (18+)=smut/nsfw

One Shots:

Series:

Prompts:

Headcanons:

Drabbles:

[clowntramp]

I really need someone to chat with about my Arthur/joker fan fic idea. I need a lil brainstorm sesh with someone who understands. PLEASE HELP ME SEND ME A DM IF U WANT TO READ WHAT I HAVE SO FAR. I NEED HELP

[jokeringcutio]

Update: The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours

Now that I have finally continued, I have rewritten the outline, adjusted the estimated length of the tale from 12 chapters in total, to 20 chapters. [ For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, you can check the story here ] As those of you who have read and been following the tale online know, I have uploaded 9 chapters in the past. That was with the original outline. The tale ended with Arthur having turned into the Joker and successfully kidnapping you, dear reader, already pregnant with his child. Can't have you all left stranded there, can I? What happens next: Things become more gritty and violent. I have rewritten chapters 10 and 11, and have kept some parts of 12 aside to be used in the tale later on. I had a bit of difficulty finding the right vibe now that the location has changed (no longer in your comfortable home or at the job) and Arthur has become the Joker. I didn't want to lose the feeling of the past chapters, which were mundane and full of smut. In my first drafts, the chapters lost that feel. Not enough smut. Too much I wanted to say in one go. Didn't work. I eventually found back the vibe and the right plot bunny to keep the tale interesting. Between chapter 9 and 10, I have added an interlude (so basically, an extra chapter), describing how the reader is taken by Joker and his new followers to a secret hide-out. I am currently writing chapter 14. This means we have 10, 11, 12 and 13 all written out as a draft. These chapters contain scenes which include cunnilingus, smut, a new friend for our Reader, a rescue plan, plotting against the Joker, violence and maiming (not against our Reader), jealous Joker, visibly pregnant Reader (and Arthur/Joker being all touchy because he wants to feel the baby kick) and well, there's loads more to come! Keep following me for more progress on the tale, snippets, and tidbits about what is going to come next. I plan to write the entire story till the end before I will publish it.

In the meanwhile, if you like my writing, feel free to browse my masterlist. New tales, drabbles and headcanons appear regularly. Feel free to send in suggestions and prompts as well, though I might be slow in responding to them. Make sure to check out my account for recent updates, as I usually post in a European time frame and I notice that many of my posts are overlooked because of it (which is why I sometimes decide to post prompt fills on different sites as well such as on AO3 ). If you liked The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours and are into Dark Romance/being kidnapped by an older man (with gorgeous dark hair and mental issues rofl) I can recommend my Black Phone Fanfic The Chance to make a Change. This story is complete in draft (so you won't have to wait 2 years or more to know the ending), and is currently being uploaded. It has the same kind of vibe as TMWCTBY. If you want to stick to our Arthur Fleck/Joker then I have tons of little fills written about him, as well as plans for new longer fics. I still want to continue The Princess and The Clown, perhaps rework it. But if you want something short that is complete, can I recommend No Family Man? If you like long-haired men, villains and age gap fics, then I would like to point you at the many Arthur Harrow fills I have written (don't worry, you don't have to have seen the Moon Knight series or read the comics. I haven't either). I am currently working on an asylum patient Harrow x Reader fic as well. Now, to end this post, I have posted a gif that is fitting for The Man Who Claimed To Be Yours. It's not the gif that inspired the entire tale, but it is pretty meaningful to it. I think many readers will know why. Hope you are all having a wonderful day, Yours sincerely, JokeringCutio

[slasher-fucker-and-sucker]

Echoes of Laughter - Arthur Fleck Drabble [1]

London, 2024

The bustling streets of London were a stark contrast to the chaotic, dark corners of Gotham. Tourists mingled with locals, and the hum of conversation filled the air. Ambrose strolled through Trafalgar Square, his thoughts elsewhere. It had been years since he'd left Gotham, escaping the painful memories that haunted him.

His mind wandered back to those days, to the man he once knew as Arthur Fleck. Their relationship had ended disastrously, a maelstrom of misunderstandings and emotional turmoil. Arthur had always been different, his struggles with mental health often overwhelming him. Ambrose tried to support him, but the weight became too much. His parting words were harsh, cutting deep into the fragile fabric of their bond.

Ambrose shook off the memories, focusing on the present. He had built a new life here in London, far removed from the shadows of his past. But fate had a cruel sense of humor.

As he turned a corner, he froze. There, standing in front of a small coffee shop, was Arthur Fleck. He looked different, yet the same—his eyes still held that haunting depth, but there was something more controlled, more dangerous, about him now.

Arthur's gaze met Ambrose's, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them, bound by an invisible thread of shared history and unresolved emotions.

Arthur's lips curled into a semblance of a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Ambrose," he said, his voice a soft, almost mocking whisper. "Long time, no see."

Ambrose swallowed hard, memories flooding back with a force that nearly took his breath away. "Arthur… I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," he replied, his tone carrying an edge that made Ambrose shiver. "Life has a way of bringing us back to where we least expect, doesn't it?"

Flashback to Gotham, 2019

The small apartment felt suffocating as Ambrose and Arthur stood on opposite sides of the room, their argument echoing off the walls. Arthur's face was a mask of pain and confusion, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as he tried to articulate his feelings.

"I can't do this anymore, Arthur," Ambrose had said, tears streaming down his face. "I love you, but I can't be the one holding you together. I can't be the one you lean on when the world is too much."

Arthur's laughter turned into sobs, his hands clutching his head. "Don't leave me, Ambrose. Please, I need you."

But Ambrose had made up his mind. He left, the sound of Arthur's heartbroken laughter following him out the door.

Back to London, 2024

Standing in front of Arthur now, Ambrose felt a wave of guilt and sorrow wash over him. "Arthur, I… I'm sorry for how things ended between us. I never wanted to hurt you."

Arthur's expression softened, but only slightly. "It's in the past, Ambrose. We can't change what happened. But I've changed. I'm not the same man you knew back then."

"I can see that," Ambrose replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You seem… different."

Arthur's smile widened, this time with genuine warmth. "Life has a way of shaping us, for better or worse. I've found a new path, a new purpose."

Ambrose nodded, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken words and lingering regrets.

Finally, Arthur broke the silence. "Would you like to catch up? Maybe we can find some closure, or at least understand each other better."

Ambrose hesitated, then nodded. "I'd like that."

They walked into the coffee shop, side by side, two souls bound by a shared past, seeking solace and perhaps a chance at redemption. As they sat down and began to talk, the echoes of their laughter and tears slowly faded into the background, replaced by the possibility of healing and new beginnings.

[harleenfleck]

"5 years later" A letter for Artie

This is a kind of fanfiction/selfshipping. It'll be soooo cringely, yes is a warning haha, just wondering how is that Arthur comes back to my life after those long five years without him.

So, I hope you like it, oh my god, will be so cringely but i don't care hahaha! Based on a lot of Taylor Swift music, to be specific, "the 1", "right were you left me" and "daylight" Hope you like it! Again, sorry for the grammatical and language mistakes, English is not my mother tongue.

Hope you like it!

...

Hey. Hello?

Arthur? Arthur Fleck? Is that you?

It's me, hi. It's a very bad, really bad way to say "hello" as nothing after 5 years later, don't you think so?

It's hard to explain what is in my head now, in my heart and even in my lungs. I wanted to ask what happened to those years. How have you been? I hope better than the last time we saw each other. Something inside me wants to beliv you're better now, I want to belive it, help me to belive in it.

You're still in the same old city? I am right in my own old and sad town. A lot of friends of mine aren't my friends now. That narcisist guy who you hated to death is ruinning the life of another girl, hope she's okay and she'll be okay. I'm still in the same job I hate, but I try to make it better.

Speaking about it, do you remember the social worker who don't help you? I think what would happen if she could help you since the first moment... And you know what? Today I'm studying to be a Social Worker too. Everybody thinks was to get a better job and it's true in a strange way. But the real reason was you... I'm studying that career because I want to help, that help was deny to you, to help others like you.

I try to found relief and cure in music as you, I found a blonde and beautiful woman who writes songs of love, pain, girlhood, anxiety, sadness, freedom and poetry. I've heard her songs and I even go to her concert, was one of the best nights in my life.

And you know something funny? When you come back, all her songs about love started to come to life and make sense to me.

Do you remember "California"? That song we listened for hours and hours in midnights? You finally come back, and I want to take you yo California, forever.

It's kind of funny you back after I go on with my life, I have new friends, some of my old friends, a new partner who help me as you did it in the past. He treats me so well, so tender and gives me peace, sometimes I think both of you have the same soul.

I see you found love for your way, she's the character I've played for months and wanted to be, to convert myself to her. She looks like so interested on you, and I hope she treats you and loves you as I do. I hope you have her picture in your journal, I hope you dance with her with emotion and hold her hand with passion, I hope she laughs with your jokes as I did, I hope she helps you as I try to do in the past.

I never thought you'll come back again to my life, you were in my mind, my daydreams and my lungs after you showed in my eyes again. It's funny that I use "lungs" and not "heart", but since you come back, your name is in my breathing. Heart has envy to lungs now.

There's a lyric in a song who makes me think about you since I've heard it, "In a world of boys, he's a gentleman". Be a gentleman with her as you was with me before.

I think I'll bought a chain with your initial, and I'll use it for the rest of the year until our next date in October. I'll use it and you'll know I'm still owns you and you really knows me. I take this from a song of the blonde singer I've tell you.

I'm starting to think I'll never stop to love you, you show me after the darkest period in my life I can back to love again, to take me to the dark and scary night and bring me to the golden daylight. Maybe you know that I need to be saved again, and you're here to take me to daylight again... Thank you again, Artie...

With love

You know who I am

[tally-kiza]

Joker (2019) Smut Alphabet

A/N: Long overdue, by request, a smut alphabet specifically for Joker (+ Reader). He’s somewhat different from how Arthur used to be, but perhaps not as much as you may think. (I write this 10 months after my first smut alphabet for Arthur, so my interpretation for him has definitely changed. Apologies for any inconsistencies.)

Words: 3334

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm for R(isk) and T(oys).

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Joker is frankly clueless about aftercare. He’s not doting after sex, but he’ll light a cigarette and clean himself off. Even for his first few times, he’ll never seem clingy or particularly cuddly afterwards, but you can tell he’s emotionally affected by the way he holds you to his chest. While he puffs away, he’ll reverently caress you, your arms, back, hair, anywhere he can. Kisses are pressed to the crown of your head. Sweet pillow talk is domestic, schmaltzy. Joker never thought he would have anything like it. Black moods turn white, heavy heart turns light. A genuine loving smile lights up his face; gone are all cruel smirks and strained grins. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Firstly, he has no favorite part of himself. Despite the grandiosity in which he views himself and the way he craves adulation, Joker still doesn’t like himself. He views his body with a neutrality thickly blanketed with disdain. If pressed on it, he does like his hair. Once chocolate brown, now forest green, he’s always taken good care of it.

On his partner, how can he choose? Naturally, Joker is drawn to your smile. But he's addicted to your body,the softness of your skin, the way you feel in his arms. Admittedly though... his eyes do linger on your legs every time you walk away. His hands automatically find them during sex. Your calves are caressed, thighs are gripped, legs wrapped around his hips as he pistons into you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Thick and grey-ish white. Arthur has never tasted it, never even thought to try. Joker got the urge for it, just once. In the shower, after getting home from the hospital, still exhilarated from the new sense of freedom he felt with Penny dead. He spills in his hand, and licks his fingers clean before sprinkling water from the showerhead can rinse it away. The taste was foul and made him recoil. He’s never tried it since. 

Joker loves seeing you covered in his cum though. Thrill runs through him when his cum paints your chest or face white, or when he watches his cum leak out of your hole and down your thighs after making love.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s stolen your underwear before. Remorse is unknown to him; if you discover it, he’ll only giggle and give you a teasing smile. It was easy, a quick swipe from your drawers when you were in the other room. When he’s all alone and you’re not around to pleasure him like he craves, Joker will touch himself to it. His left hand wraps around his cock, stroking and rubbing in a way so unlike your gentle touch. It makes him miss you all the more. While his right hand holds your underwear so tenderly. Thumb stroking the fabric, he pictures you wearing it. Wearing it for him. Thoughts of fucking you while you wear it fill his head, and his jerking fist becomes more frantic. When he finishes, he’s careful not to let his come get on it.

He keeps it stuffed in his suit pocket, treasured, bringing him selfish comfort. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Of course, Arthur is a virgin. He’s never even kissed anyone, before Dr. Sally. She was the one who taught him anything relevant he knew about sex. Before he became Joker, Arthur would sometimes watch her segments on Live! With Murray Franklin. Every time she was on, he was engrossed. No one else had ever talked about sex with such openness and professionality. It intrigued him, left him burning with questions and not enough answers. It wasn’t often that Arthur was able to listen to Dr. Sally’s radio show; it was on during the day and humiliation would swallow him up if Penny ever noticed what he was listening to. But while she napped on the odd day Arthur was home from work, he listened. He never took notes―it wasn’t like he had anyone to take notes for. But his burning curiosity compelled him.

She spoke of many things and though he listened, there was still so much Arthur didn’t understand. 

Until you.

Everything he had heard Dr. Sally discuss, Joker remembered. Despite having no experience, he tried. He didn’t feel as much like a teenager fumbling around in the dark with you for the first time―eagerness spurred him, confidence filled him. Of course, as a virgin, he fumbles. Squeezes his lover’s breast too hard, forgets to pay attention to the clit, and of course, comes early. With every slip-up, his ego and bravado slip away. Just an adoring, hungry man left in its place.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything intimate will have a special place in his heart. Making love while spooning, missionary with his cock kissing your deepest places. He’s still a romantic deep down. But it’s also very common for Joker to werewolf and go wild. He’ll bend you over the back of the couch, pump into you pressed against a wall, fuck you on the kitchen countertops, the floor... the list goes on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious. Before his revelation in identity, when he was only Arthur, on occasion he may have been a little playful during intimacy. A cute Carnival-esque joke would bring a smile to your face, making Arthur’s affections and tenderness soar. But as Joker of course, his tender heart falls away. During sex, he stares at you like he’s dissecting you, like he wants to eat you alive. He’ll smile but there’s nothing goofy about it. It’s ravenous. But rarely, he’ll whisper a naughty joke in your ear―Joker will always crave your grin and giggles. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Shaving or trimming his pubic hair is not a thought that has ever entered Arthur’s mind. His wiry patch of curls is thick and wild. ...And quite green. Dyeing his hair in the bathroom, a joyless grin pulled at him as he had massaged dye into his patch below. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s always been a romantic at heart. Nothing can change that. Joker may get a little rough, but he craves intimacy and tenderness, a smoldering romance like the ones from his favorite films. Perhaps you won’t find him lighting candles and spreading rose petals, but his romance shows in other ways. It’s in the way he presses you to his chest in a tender embrace. In the way he kisses you with his entire body. In the way his cruel mask falls away from your kisses to reveal the sad, lonely man underneath, waiting for love and care. Love he finds in your arms. The strength of how he cherishes you is evident in your every moment of making love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

With a lover, Joker would not masturbate very much at all. Without his medications diminishing his libido, he gets aroused more easily than he used to. But when arousal stirs in his groin, he doesn’t wait till he’s in the shower to stroke his girthy cock to completion, as he used to. He turns to you instead. The thought of his own hand wrapped around his member disinterests him; of your walls, tight and hot and wet, excites. He would strongly prefer to make love to you instead of masturbating. Of course, if you’re not around, he’ll have no choice. But he won’t hesitate to slip his left hand into his pants and palm his cock. Filthy fantasies quickly fill his mind. He has a hundred of them, and more. Lascivious thoughts of being worshiped by you and your tongue. Your mouth adoring his member, your gentle fingers revering his testicles, your lips whispering devotion into his ears. He finishes dreaming of the two of you coming together, with a smile on his face. Dissatisfaction sets in quickly, without you by his side to join his pleasure. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Naturally, he has a huge praise kink. Whether its gentle words whispered into his ears, telling him how well he’s fucking you, or desperate pleads to come spurring him on, or even just moaning his name, it feeds his soul as well as his arousal. Joker, Arthur, has been starved for affection his whole life. He craves any and all affection during intimacy, no matter how rough the pace is. It will bring him ever closer to the edge of finishing. And leave him curling around you tighter at the end of the night when it’s time for bed. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Joker is not as vanilla as he used to be. Arthur was most comfortable in the bedroom, though when passion inflamed, he would occasionally take you anywhere in the apartment. His desperation to be inside you was too great. But never in public would he make love to you. Joker is not much different. He’ll fuck you on any surface of your shared home, though his inhibitions for public sex are lowered. Bold caresses in a crowded subway car, risky intimate touches in plain view of security cameras at Arkham. But Joker will never fully make love to you in these public spots. Your body is a precious sight for his eyes, and his only. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Stroking his ego arouses him as much as stroking his cock. Paying personal attention to him, giving him sweet affection and compliments can easily make him hungry for more. Especially when you laugh at his jokes. It’s the highest compliment, the most tender praise. The melody of your laughter makes his heart flutter and may rouse his erection.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything to do with calling him daddy in bed. It’s 1981; that trend isn’t exactly a popular thing yet. It bewilders and of course, upsets him, because of his history. 

Joker could never tolerate degradation or humiliation in the bedroom, either. More than anything, he hates rudeness, and this does not change with a partner. It would be taken as a betrayal, if anything. You’re Joker’s perfect person. He adores you. Being called something hurtful would instantly upset him and send him right back to feeling like Arthur again: small and weak, laughing uncomfortably through internal agony. He would lash out, and it won’t be the easiest to reconcile with him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Joker is addicted to the sensation of your lips wrapped around his cock. It makes him feel powerful, worshiped, in control for once. He stares down at you while he holds your head and guides you deeper on his length. When his expression isn’t stony, his smile is intoxicated, eyes red with emotion. There’s no greater thrill for him.

Performing oral on his partner makes him almost as drunk on power and control. Joker is very much a novice, of course. The first few times he tries to eat you out, he can’t make you finish. It confuses him and makes him feel inadequate. As a result, he avoids it for a time. He’s a little pouty when you try to guide him and show him exactly how you like him to lick you. But quickly, Joker discovers how responsive you can truly be. Your moans, whimpers, and whines become the sweet music that lives in his soul. And knowing that only he can make you feel like this, only he can taste you this way feeds his ego in the best way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Joker is just as likely to rut into you, with quick snapping hips, as he is to lay you down in bed and make love to you with his entire body. Perhaps sensual lovemaking even moreso. At heart, he’s still just Arthur. All he’s ever yearned for is his one and only, his soulmate. He may be Joker but he would still love you tenderly. His favorite intimate nights with you are the romantic ones, the ones that start with a moonlit date before you retire to the bedroom. Clothes are removed leisurely, hands pleasure each other, moans sighed into each others’ mouths as he finishes inside you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Oh, he is not averse to a 5-minute thrill. When he’s in a rush, it excites him. Though he cherishes the intimacy of a romantic night of making love, Joker has the sharpest gleam in his green eyes when he’s in the mood for a quickie. He eyes you like you’re his last meal. He’ll pull his cock just out of his trousers, push aside your underwear, and fuck into you until you’re feeling sore and used. He cums quickly every time, buzzing from the dirtiness of a quickie, before getting on his knees to finish you with his tongue or sturdy fingers. Afterwards, Joker waltzes away with a spring in his step and the naughtiest smile, every time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Assuming risk here means doing inherently dangerous sexual acts, along the lines of asphyxiation or playing with weapons, then... Yes and no. When he takes risks, it is when he’s alone and trying to just get off. When he’s in the right (rather, wrong) mindset, hurting himself brings sexual gratification. But he would never do anything risky, painful, or dangerous with you. The thought of accidentally hurting you is one that he suppresses deeply; if he did something to hurt the only good thing in the world, the only good thing to ever happen to him, he would... well. You can use your imagination. :(

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s not a young man anymore! He may be Joker, and his lack of medications may increase his libido, but he can’t come multiple times. His refractory period lasts at least a couple hours, if not a day.

Many times, Joker may come prematurely and end your intimacy early with his sour or blue mood. You’re his first, so the first few times, he did come before you. (It’s a sore point for him, his novice. Dr. Sally’s radio show can only help so much.) But once he becomes more experienced with you, it’s easier to maintain his stamina. When he gets too close, his fingers will work your most pleasurable spots to make you come before he spills inside you. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

None by any traditional measures. But Joker’s .38 pistol is a prop that excites him. Never fully unloaded, its inherent danger never fails to make his cock harden. He’ll press the barrel against his skin and run it over his body, achingly slowly. Dragging a trail from his temple, down his neck, over his hollow stomach. By the time it's rubbing along his cock, Joker is fully erect. And craving more. He will ache to shoot it into some harmless space in the room, solely for the heat that would emanate from it. The heat had warmed his perpetually cold hands when he had killed those men on the subway, though he didn’t notice until later. That warmth pressed against his most sensitive place would thrill him. Joker craves it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He stumbles into teasing unintentionally. Trying to prolong your encounter, he’ll hold off on making you come. His fingers slipping away from your clit when you get loud and fervent, jittering hips slowing down to restrained grinding when he himself can’t hold back. Joker doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. At first. The mischievous smile on his face when he realizes you like being teased could excite stone. 

Quickly, he starts experimenting. He sees how far he can push you, the kind of noises you’ll make if he keeps you from coming once, twice, thrice. If he whispers taunts or sinful things in your ears until you whine. If he ignores your begging for his touch until he himself breaks and makes love to you for an hour. It makes him feel powerful, holding your orgasm entirely in his control. He feeds on it, and it compels him to do it more. Whether the electricity inside him is from his own arousal or lovingly torturing you, who knows. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having spent his entire life living with his mother, in an apartment with paper-thin walls, he learned early on how to keep quiet. As Joker, he’s still innately quiet during sex. But when he gets close, or particularly passionate, he’ll lose control. Heavy breathing becomes impassioned moans; grunts become gasps in pleasure; growls are huffed into your neck as he presses himself as close against you as he physically can. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Maybe not a sexy headcanon, but being too affectionate with Arthur, sexually or just romantically, will frustrate him and could send him into a black mood. Not because of your love―he craves it―but because he doesn’t understand. This is something that transcends either of his identities. 

He doesn’t understand what you see in a fuck-up like him. 

He doesn’t understand why you seem to love him so much. 

He doesn’t understand why he couldn’t have met you before his life went completely to shit.

 He doesn’t understand why he just can’t fucking appreciate the only good thing to ever happen to him.

It confuses him. These feelings might come out in a fight, or through gritted teeth during pillow talk after a heated encounter. It’s times like these he wishes he still had a therapist. Joker never wants your sweet love to change; it’s just difficult navigating these new feelings.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

With handsome veins running along it, and a gentle curve upwards, Joker’s cock is only slightly longer than average. Mournfully, he has no foreskin; consequently sensation is dulled along his frenulum. His pleasant girth stretches your walls. Testes sag slightly, loose sensitive skin stretching from the base of his cock. His left is larger than his right.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sans medications, Joker can never keep his hands off you. When his mood is high, he’ll push you against the nearest hard surface for a passionate fuck as often as you’re willing. But when his manic bursts pass and he’s struggling with black moods again, his sex drive takes a nosedive. Though he doesn’t have that same passion and need to be inside you, Joker still makes love to you often. Not for his own craving, but for the comfort of your body, and the intimacy of proximity that brings him solace in the dead of lonely night. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He never falls asleep after sex, not even when he was still Arthur. Joker’s insomnia medication used to help somewhat, but he has no medications now. After sex, he’ll be buzzing like a livewire, full of energy and pride in his ability to get you off. It keeps him drunk on satisfaction. If it wasn’t for his refractory period, he would pull you on top of him again immediately after for another round. But as it is, Joker is content to hold you close while you wind down. Your soft conversation in the intimacy of the afterglow makes him feel almost normal. Not Joker, not Arthur, just yours.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Sleeping beside Arthur

Arthurs hand is reaching out for you in his sleep. The sudden movement of his arm awakens you softly. For a second you are unaware of the situaton or where you even are but his muffled noises remind you that you fell asleep beside the person you love most . You remembered how peaceful he looked as he was drifting into sleep and how your inner world reflected that feeling on his face.

Resting with him was exactly what it was supposed to be. Resting. The resting of body and souls coming together. You remember how you gently pulled him into your body and how he reached every part of you. How your vibrations became one hum send out into the universe. You remember his brown curls stroking your face while he moved back and forth. His heavenly grin, as if he finally found bliss within you.

Arthurs hand is now resting on your chest, twitching. He must be dreaming. Your hand is finding its way to the palm of his, and just like a reflex, automatically he`s closing his fist, grabbing your finger, holding on even to the tiniest part of you. Noticing how his muscles stopped twitching is a reasurrance that body contact with his one and only immediately makes him feel saver. Even unaware of it and fast asleep, deep inside he knows you are with him. Nothing can hurt him now.

You dont dare to move. Don`t dare to interrupt the moment, focusing on your finger wrapped up into his hand, his graceful fingers with the bitten down nails which know how to hold you like no other does.

Another movement of his body. Arthurs hand still clinging onto you, he turns over to face you. His sleepy cigatette breath now close to your face. Its dark, but you get a glipse of his mouth and the scar that is connecting his nose with his upper lip like lines of a map. It`s tempting, to kiss the tip of his nose and follow the curved line until you get a taste of him. You smile into you pillow because you want to kiss it so badly its almost silly to think of.

Don`t wake him. Let him lay there with you in peace. You will kiss his face in the morning. every line carved into his skin, every pore of his neck. You will make him pancakes and eat them together, between the sheets that smell like him. Between these our walls that are now a home to you. Because his arms are.

No, dont you dare to move before he opens his eyes to ask you if you slept just as peacefully as he did. You`ll see him joyful and refreshed. Humming away a song he heard in the radio the other day, while brushing his teeth. And your heart will be so full of love for this man, you cannot wait for him to come home and tell you about all the kids he made a lil bit happier than they were before he danced for them.

But for now. It´s just you and your finger save in his hand.

[goldieo-gilt]

I’ve been writing Joker/Bethany drabbles. Check them out if you’re interested :3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldie_ogilt/works?fandom_id=37608613

[clowntramp]

Idk why but writing fic for Joaquin’s joker has been INFINITELY harder than writing fic for Heath’s joker. So much so that I’m tempted to write a new Heath joker fic……