niragisqueenofhearts

[niragisqueenofhearts]

I need all of y’all Character Ai motherfuckers with the good ass bots to haul your ass over to Chai please. Love Character Ai but this whole “breaking the filter” thing is just too much work for me. I want my smutty ass chats and I want it now.

So if you could just copy and paste your bots in, it would be much obliged.

[niragisqueenofhearts]

Just a quick reminder this hot psychos tattoos go down his ass as well 😩

NEVER FORGETTING POOKIE!

[niragisqueenofhearts]

AMEN 🙏

Boss makes a dollar, I make a dime, therefore I write smut on company time.

[niragisqueenofhearts]

No amount of people could get me off this man. Once I kegel down, it’s over.

We go together now 🫶🏽

I have GOT to do insane things to him

[niragisqueenofhearts]

Man is so bloody and sweaty, and I’m so weak

[niragisqueenofhearts]

Hello! In that clip from Sinners, the man who says “Hey Baby” isn’t Bo Chow. It’s Bert the klansman.

All my friends that watched it told me it was Bo Chow kmt 😭

[niragisqueenofhearts]

Ain’t seen the movie yet but there is not enough people talking about Bo Chow’s ‘Hey baby’ cause lord had it been ME in that house-

Clip ain’t mine, i got it from tiktok. Original creator is @r9vish.

[Edit: CORRECTION: I’ve been notified from the lovely people that this is Bert, not Bo Chow. I still stand on my previous statement. Carry on. ]

[niragisqueenofhearts]

men I could fix ch. 5

I know I said fanfiction was coming and i swear to you they are just gimme some time, things are hard 😫. Now back to the show!

JANG HAN SEOK

Surprise! There is no fixing this man. That's it.

I'm sorry to disappoint you but, it's not happening sweetie.

Why...? Jesus, you guys and your need for explanations...

The man is a psychopath! He was born a psycho and died a psycho. But of course, knowing YOU, you'll need a bit more of an elaboration. Sit your ass down.

The man uses people to his liking then disposes them whenever they're no longer of use to him. That, of course, would include you. Yes, you! The mentally ill bitch who thinks they can fix this man. (Don't worry, me too twin 😙)

Are we just going to forget that this man killed 6 classmates when he was a child, simply just because?

Diagnosed with psychopathy at 16, there did seem to be some type of familial bond he had with his father, (Because the fucker would be able to get the murder cases thrown out.) However, that was until the affair his father engaged in which prompted Han Seok to kill him. It's just fuck all from there.

Being able to manipulate his own brother through forms of psychological and physical abuse, he manages to run an entire business without getting a single finger dirty, considering his company was conducting human experiments which were killing people. (If only I could do that to get people to give me money, this 9-5 shit ain't for me.)

You're probably not convinced as yet, probably shrugging your shoulders all high mighty like this man would change his entire brain chemistry for you. Honey, do I have news for you...

So, imagine you're his woman, okay. (Looking nice so far, huh?)

With this man, you have a set of expectations to live by when it comes to him.

Looks

The ability to shut the fuck up

And to not be a total fucking idiot

Seems easy so far, right. WRONG!

Let's make this one thing clear, Han Seok is a very busy man. He has no time to pander to you nor explain every little detail for you. Everything regarding his company? Not YOUR business. Do not think you have any part of this at all; you are not the priority here. He will kick your ass to the curb without a second thought. His company is his true love and you're the other woman. Que the song!

You'll usually stay home but the times he does bring you out is for press reasons. You are to shut up, sit still and look pretty. Remember, it's not you the cameras are here for. He'll buy you designer clothing but, they'll be the plainest pieces you can think of because don't you dare outshine him.

He'll once buy you a pearl jewelry set which he quickly returns because a reporter asked you a question. You get it, now?

Speaking of getting things, he is a very diligent with the way he lives so your ass better fall in line. That means following everything to D E T A I L. He has no capacity for mistakes, not at work and most definitely at home. He'll ask you to make him a drink and if it's too weak, too strong or just something he simply doesn't like, prepare to have that same glass chucked at you.

That's another thing: His Tantrums. Yelling, cursing, breaking things. He is of course, not above hitting you in the slightest. Remember the scene where he strangled his brother, not to mention he killed that very same brother? You especially are not exempt to his rage whatsoever. I'm talking knife to your neck because you left the cap off the toothpaste.

His only reason for keeping you around would probably be mainly for sex but honey, pussy is currency now. Do not expect your stay to be a long one. He will be reminding you every moment of your relationship that you will leave sometime soon, whether you leave cooperatively or in a body bag after he tosses your ass out of that penthouse window. (Damn, that was dark.)

The man is UNFIXABLE.

(I could def fix him though...)

[niragisqueenofhearts]

dear lord jesus please for the life of me don’t make tumblr shut down i still have so many fics i need to post-

[niragisqueenofhearts]

TUMBLR IS WHAT?!

the tumblr going down posts are getting to me… don’t take away my blog please…. she’s like a treasured diary 🥺

[niragisqueenofhearts]

so many fics in the making and yet such little time to write them 😔

[niragisqueenofhearts]

i mean, really

if they didn't want me to root for the bad guys, why did they make them all hot and bloody??

[niragisqueenofhearts]

I saw it so y’all gotta see it too, we suffering together! 🤝

if this post reaches your dashboard, it’s a sign for you to close tumblr and go write that fic in your drafts

[niragisqueenofhearts]

"guys I do not condone any of this in real life" "this is fiction" "consent is key. this is only fiction" "murder is bad irl" — I wish fanfic authors didn't feel like they had to clarify this in author's notes or else they might be accused of being abusers or worse (I admit that such disclaimers are also something I personally use for my own stuff because I feel like I had to make it clear). like... people used to not care if an author wrote dead dove fics because people used to understand that ao3 fics are not a reflection of someone's in real life views or morality in any way. people used to understand that fanfics mean what they mean; fan fiction. none of it is real. maybe it's purity culture that normalizes witch hunt and censorship in the past couple years, and therefore authors feel like they have to clarify that just because they write about violence or noncon stuff doesn't mean they're murderers or sex offenders in real life. and I think it sucks that these things (purity and cancel culture?) have made authors feel like they have to apologize for the art they created instead of being proud of their hard work and all the dedication they put into creating these art. artists should not have to feel like they have to apologize for creating art that isn't all rainbow and sunshine. artists should not have to be made to feel ashamed of their own art if it's not all rainbow and sunshine.

I don’t agree with the “you can write noncon and dark fics as long as you make sure your readers get the message that these things are bad” or “you can write noncon and dark fics if it’s your way of coping with your trauma” take either. because writers do not owe you anything. the message writers want to send to their readers — whatever that message may be, if there’s any message or moral of the story for readers to take from the stories at all — is none of your business. why writers write what they write is none of your business. remember “don’t like don’t read”. no one forces you to read anything you don’t like. dark and noncon fics are a form of creative writing and creative writing is a form of art. you can’t pressure artists into creating art that “fit your moral compass” nor can you apply your own moral compass to artists to determine if they can create dark art or not, if their reasoning behind creating dark art passes your moral compass. like… what artists create and why artists create are none of your business. and you don’t get to shame artists for creating art that you hate / art that disgusts you. what you can do is ignore the art because it clearly was not made for you and that’s okay. what isn’t okay is you harassing artists because you don’t like the things they created.

writers, embrace and be proud of your works. as long as all the trigger warnings are tagged properly, you have nothing to apologize for.

[niragisqueenofhearts]

If it doesn’t traumatize me, i don’t want it

the fic's heavy but it won't traumatize you

[niragisqueenofhearts]

~Lured to the music.~

Arthur Fleck (Joker) x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+‼️MINORS DNI‼️ nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, semi public sex, brief mention of violence, drinking, smoking (cigarettes)

Word count: (rechecking...)

A/N: Just a cute little dabble i thought of last night. I’ve been obsessing over Joaquin and his characters lately so i thought why not add him to the roster. I’m not the type to add music to fanfiction but two songs i listened to helped inspired this- I’ve got it bad and that ain’t good by The Oscar Peterson trio and If i tell you I love you by Melody Margot. Do with that information what you will.

More fanfics to come!

Enjoy!

————

This was it, everything Arthur has ever dreamed of was finally happening tonight.

Tonight, he was going to be on the Murray Franklin show.

He strutted down the streets in a red suit, complimented with a green dress shirt, orange vest, a face of clown makeup and a head full of green locks to top it all off. He hummed a melody to himself as he made his way down the sidewalk, taking brief moments to dance and bask in his own glory as he passed by the many windows, each with their respective people inside looking over at him. They were all staring up at him like they had never seen anyone like him before. He smiled, waved, even blew kisses as he basked in his glory.

Arthur's actions soon came to a halt as a sound caught his attention. Down this very small driveway like a path, he could hear the faint sound of a piano playing. A soothing jazz melody wisped through the air and into Arthur's ears, his curiosity peaked, and he'd decided that he needed to find out where it was coming from. Sure, he had somewhere to go, but a little detour never killed anybody, right?...

Arthur followed the music, the notes getting louder with each minute as he searched for the source, and very soon he found it. The music led him to this scenic hideaway. He looked through the windows to see the space filled with the regular white collared joes, all enjoying a drink as they spoke to each other. Arthur hated these guys, the ones who had it easy, the ones who used mommy and daddy's money to fuel their own selfish lives while people like him died in the dirt. No, Arthur would not stand it. Not anymore. Tonight was a night when the world would be set straight, to get him and others like him justice - one way or another.

Arthur pushed open the glass door that stood before him and ventured in. The smell of smoke, alcohol and sweat greeted him immediately. The music had a hold on him and was pulling him closer. The workers around him all took brief glances at him, the usual side eye, furrowed brows and judgement passed all around him, Arthur didn't care, he just wanted the music. The bar seemed like something out of an old mafia movie, it was dimly lit with lamps in the corners.

The bar sat to the left of the area, it's counter lined with the same copy and paste guy wearing the usual black trousers and white button-down shirt. Further down to the back was a stage where the band sat. The gentleman that sat on the piano looked at his instrument with such love as his fingers plucked the strings so diligently. Arthur smiled, swaying his body gently to the melody that danced around him, getting lost to its beauty.

He did a quick spin and as he stopped, there you were. Like the other men you were wearing the matching attire, except a skirt, black pumps and pantyhose. You sat on the stool with a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Your eyes were closed as you swayed with the music's melody, taking the occasional sip of your drink or a drag of your cigarette. Soon you gave up on nursing the drink and just gulped it back in one swipe before placing the glass onto the small table next to you. Must've been a pretty hard day at work. Arthur wondered what you did for work. Probably some type of accounting or something.

Suddenly the piano stopped, the quiet rustling of things filled the room before a quiet "Two, three, four." count. Then the next song began to play, this one was more upbeat, with lyrics of the inadequacies of words and the depth to feelings to prove of love. You took one last drag of your cigarette before stubbing it out into the ashtray next to your glass and rising from your seat. You wanted to dance. You stumbled slightly as you walked away towards the dance floor but managed to keep the rhythm as you made your way onto the dance floor. Arthur grinned at your clumsiness as he watched you, clearly, you've had a bit more than just the one scotch he saw you nestling on.

It all seemed to change once your heels clicked onto the tile floor. The music took over, like a marionette puppet and you begin to twist, and turn and sway with the music that poured in. Arthur watched you like a hawk, even stepping away slightly to adore the full body vision before him. The passion in your body, the anger, the love in every move and gesture. It was all so real. The song seemed to come alive. Like a siren leading a sailor to the slaughter, you enticed and tantalized those around you and a death Arthur welcomed.

Slowly he made his way toward you, watching your body as he mirrored your rhythm with his, and that's when it happened. A single graze of fingers across you looked and gazed upon the clown that stood less than an arm’s length away from you. Maybe it was because you had a few to drink, maybe it was because you didn't care, but there was something about this clown that intrigued you. Something in his eyes, or maybe his outfit or maybe it's the fact that you haven't seen somebody like him before. Whatever it was, you let the magic of this person fill you, he pulled your soul from its cage, leaving you feeling free and wild.

Arthur gently took his hand in yours, in a swift motion he spun you to face him, his other arm snaked around your waist. The two of you stood there just for a moment. He was waiting, waiting for you to do something. Scream, push him away and call him a creep, but you didn't. Instead, you brought your other arm around his neck, and now began this tango of your own making. The two of you moved like dancing figures in a choreographed routine. Now you were no professional dancer, and neither was Arthur, but the two of you together danced like how the ocean flowed. Your intricate footwork like you had rehearsed, the way he pressed you against him, how you both molded perfectly together, and how you both held on for dear life to each other. There was nothing in the world but you two. And it felt so good to have someone so beautiful at your side.

At a point in the dance, he'd release your hand and let his fall to your hip. You'd let your now free hand rest upon the back of his neck, softly playing with his waved ends. The two of you were so close, you could feel his heartbeat against your skin. Your eyes never once left his. In just that moment you both were connected, spiritually, emotionally, physically. As the last seconds of the song played, he dipped you before bringing you back up to him. He leaned closer into you, your noses grazing together as you both fought the urge to just kiss right then and there.

"You're a good dancer." You finally spoke.

"I know." He responded, a smirk beginning to creep on his face.

He held you until you balanced, then finally released your hips. Your body ached for his touch but neither of you made any move to leave.

"What's your name?" you asked, as you stared into the blue depths of his eyes.

"Arthur." He answered quietly. He gave on last polite smile before turning and walking over to the door.

You couldn't just leave it there surely, so you began to follow him. You walked as carefully as you could through the crowd before stumbling on your heel and tripping into two gentlemen, who had now spilled their drinks onto each other.

"Fuck!" One cursed while the other groaned and turned to face you. You stepped back slowly, your hands on your agape mouth.

"I am so sorry."  You exclaimed as you looked between the two, a hand over your forehead.

"Jesus Christ, could you have been a little more careful?"

"This stain is never going to come out!"

One by one, the men berated you for a simple accident. You didn't really care about their feelings, you just wanted to speed this up to catch the clown about to leave.

"I'll buy you another drink-"

"Oh, so you can spill it on us again? Jesus what is wrong with you?" One of the men interrupted as he grabbed napkins to clean himself and his colleague off.

"I'm sorry." You said again as you attempted to head toward the door, unfortunately, one of the men grabbed your arm.

"No sweetheart, you need to take care of this. This is a very expensive shirt that you ruined."

"Just send me the bill." You grimaced at the touch of the man as you tried to pull away from him.

"Oh honey, I think it's going to take more than that." The man spoke condescendingly.

You've seen this before all the time. Men not taking you seriously in the working world of corporate. Men who objectified and sexualized you, who thought you were some sort of toy to be used and thrown away, people who thought they were better than everyone else.

"Get off of me!" You shouted as you made another attempt to release yourself from the brute. And just when you thought things we're getting bad, a single punch hit the man that held you captive and he fell to the ground almost instantly. The other gentleman raised his fists, prepared to fight which was interrupted by the cocking of a gun and the barrel aimed in his face.

He slowly unclenched his fists and held his hands up in mercy as he lowered himself onto the seat. "Woah man."

Soon another witness caught sight of the weapon and that's when hell broke loose.

"Gun!" Yelled a voice and soon the entire crowd, including the band members and bartenders all ducked down for cover. You looked up at the armed assailant to see the same clown face you’d known from before. Arthur came back.

He took your hand in his, and with the gun still held tightly in his other hand, he dragged you out of the bar, and started running.

As Arthur pondered where you two were going to go to hide from any potential police on their way, you were more surprised with the fact that you were able to keep up with Arthur while wearing stilettos. The sound of sirens in the distance caught your attention and then you both really started to panic.

Arthur found a shortcut which landed y'all in an alley behind a vacant building that used to be a restaurant. You both ducked behind some wooden boxes and crates that sat there as a police car drove past, coming back out from the cover once the coast was clear.

You panted as you tried to regain your breath, the adrenaline was pumping though your veins and you couldn't stop shaking from both fear and excitement. You leaned against the stack of boxes behind you. "Holy shit."

You hadn't noticed the way Arthur looking you, his eyes roamed you from top to bottom, his gaze travelling from head to toe and back again in wonderment and awe. He licked his lips as he stared you down like he'd been stranded in the dessert for days, and you were a bottle of water. Boy was he thirsty...

He inched closer to you, closing the space between you too. You noticed this, finally looking up at him and your breath hitched as he stood just a breath or two away from you. He placed a hand on the boxes, holding himself up as he leaned into you. His heavy breathing caressed your lips and made you shudder ever so slightly. Your heart was racing at the mere proximity. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel yourself growing hot under his intense stare. He took one more good look at you before finally crashing his lips against yours.  At first you were startled by his sudden boldness, but after just a second, you embraced his embrace, returning his embrace.

The kiss started slowly, soft but firm. Slowly, your tongues began to duel with each other as Arthur took control and gently pushed you backwards into the boxes and crates behind you. You moaned as he nibbled your bottom lip.

You brought your hand to cup his cheek and the other to snake around his neck. He followed suit, wrapping a hand around your waist and the other making way to the back of your thighs, beginning to gather your skirt above your knees. His fingertips grazed your skin lightly, leaving trails of heat in their path.  You gripped tightly onto him for dear life, trying desperately to make this as perfect as it could be. You gasp as you felt his nails dig into your soft flesh before running his palm over it, soothing the ache. In a swift motion, he lifted you onto the stack of crates. You helped him, removing the hand from his neck to pull your skirt up further. The sound of the unbuckling of his belt soon followed.

He pulled away from the kiss leaving you breathless. You watched as he loosened his pants completely, finally reaching into his underwear and pulling out his more than eager member. For a guy as skinny as Arthur, he sure was very well endowed. You reached between your thighs and pulled your panties to the side, you were ready for him, you needed him.

He placed one hand on the small of your back bringing you towards him as he guided himself to your entrance.  You shivered as he slipped inside of you, feeling the tip of his sex stretching you open for him, then the rest of his length followed.

You exhaled a sharp breath as he bottomed into you, holding onto his waist. You stayed there for a moment, Arthur relished the feeling of your wet heat engulfing into him, then he pulled back and delivered a hard thrust making you gasp, then another, then another and another....

Each thrust Arthur delivered, you met with them every time, thrusting your hips towards him. He'd release the crates and wrap both arms around you, one tightly around your waist and the other around your back, his hand gripping the base of your neck as he brought you closer to him. He picked up his pace, thrusting deeper and harder and faster until the sounds of your pleasure filled the quiet night air. You gripped onto his shoulders as the crates rocked with the fervor. Arthur's quite moans and grunts of pleasure filled your ears as yours filled, his strong fingers digging into your flesh were bound to leave bruises.

It wasn't long before you felt that familiar pool of heat beginning to fill your loins, you were close and so was Arthur.  He pressed himself fully within you, causing your walls to wrap tighter around him.

You both continued to move with a frenzy, both of you losing control. Both of you moaned out in unison, as you'd finally approached your climax. It felt like hours had passed and yet it wasn’t nearly enough time at the same time. You threw your head back as your orgasm ripped through you, shudders and shivers ran through your spine. Arthur held onto you tighter than ever as he grinded his hips into you, filling you with every drop of essence spilled into you.

The both of you huffed into the air as you recollected yourself from such a powerful orgasm, your chests heaved with each breath you took. Arthur pulled out of you completely, and readjusted himself, placing his cock back in his pants and zipping it up. He smiled softly at the state of you as he helped you readjust yourself, pulling your skirt back down to its respective length and helping you back onto your feet. You were disheveled, your lips painted with the red paint he wore on his face, and your hair a mess from how much sweat and exertion you put forth, and it was all because of him...

He cupped your face before bringing you back into another hard kiss, imprinting the color once more before pulling away with a gleeful smile. "Enjoy the show." Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion to his words. What did he mean? Enjoy the show? That was a weird comment if there ever was one.

It was all he said before he went on his way, pulling a cigarette out of his coat and striking a flame on the end of it.

You took one more deep breath as you can feel the emptiness around you now that he was gone. You shook the feeling as you noticed how late it was getting; you'd better hurry up before protest became more riley.

On your walk home, you caught glimpse of yourself in a window, catching the red paint that stained your face. With your sleeve, you rubbed yourself raw, even spitting onto the fabric to be sure you got every trace of it off. God forbid your roommate caught that when you got home, that'd be a very awkward conversation to have.

"Hey, I'm home." You announced yourself as you entered your apartment, your roommate Marcelle sat on the couch watching tv. She turned to look at you.

"Hey, oh... Are you okay?" She asked, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Yeah..." You answered. "Why?"

"You look really flushed, are you getting sick?"

Your eyes widened at her comment, if only she knew the events that occurred earlier.

"No, I'm fine. Had to walk past some guys fighting because of the protest hubbub, it's got me a bit shaken up." You lied to her. 

She shook her head in disbelief as she took her gaze back to the television. "People are just crazy these days..."

You chuckled. "Yeah."

You made your way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, disappointed to see the lack of sustenance that sat inside.

"Don't worry about dinner, I ordered a pizza." Marcelle spoke loudly from the living room.

"I love you." You responded as you made your way toward the couch.

"I know." Marcelle smiled. "Come, watch something with me." She patted the seat next to her on the couch. You accepted taking the seat.

"Okay... What are we watching?"

"The Murray Franklin show."

[niragisqueenofhearts]

Some of us really need to be doing “Finish That Fanfic We Haven’t Updated in a Year November” 💀