#artur fleck

[nisphar]

I noticed that I often draw portraits with a certain turn of the head and a neutral facial expression. I think it needs to be fixed :)

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 12

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

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

Word Count: 2093

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They did?”

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

Typically a bad sign.

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

He looked to your mother who shrugged in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which friends?” your mother asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re not strippers, Dad!”

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

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

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He pointed at your rumpled clothes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You popped up from the sofa and stretched.

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

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

“Love you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Together, you were unstoppable.

***

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

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

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

“Chantelle?” you paused, your breath hitching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? You slut!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Tina.” You laughed.

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

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

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

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[placerdiario]

BMW - FOWARDISM (i7) from Grif on Vimeo.

BMW - Forwardism Mannerism, Impressionism, Surrealism. We’re all familiar with historical, genre defining art works. But what is Forwardism? Forwardism depicts the reimagining of convention, transforming what we thought we knew into something new, something we thought was impossible, and yet here it is before our eyes.  We were challenged to craft visual metaphors of this concept, transforming historical art epochs into works of Forwardism, drawing a parallel to BMW’s re-imagining of what a car should be. The i7 - a magnificent work of design, engineering, and craftsmanship, the flagship of Forwardism.

Client: BMW AG Agency: The Game / Jung Von Matt Creative Director: Thim Wagner, Florian Kronenberg Producer: Lina Ulm Director: Shane Griffin DoP: Ekkehart Pollack DoP 2nd Unit: Pascal Remond Production: AKKURAT Studios Producer: Laura Fleck, Christoph Regendorp Executive Producer: Dagmar Garber, Rocco Kopecny Production Assistant: Isabelle Wascheck Service Production PT: AG Film Lisbon Executive Producer PT: Ricardo Almeida Producer PT: Silvia Reis Production Manager PT: Pedro Louro Production Coordinator: Marta MONTALVÃO 1st AD: Dino ESTRELINHA 2nd AD: Mónica LIMA 1st AC: Frank Gardner Gaffer: Vitor Miranda Production Design: Artur Pinheiro Styling: Christel Rehm HMU: Raquel Laranjo Cast: Nádia Sena Robert Ruszkiewicz Dominique Tran Sarah Hare Editor: Mathias Graz Colorist: Mike Bothe Music: 2wei Sound Design & Mix: Fry Studios Post Production: Psyop Post Producer: Marc Fischer

[pailodzeblog]

[kittygangggg]

 [ smile and make a happy face ]

[warmly-yours]

I just thought of something so cute

<So i guess it’s sort of an imagine?>

Arthur dancing to “Can’t take my eyes off of you ” while you cook dinner for the two of you. He shuffled into the kitchen and holds out a hand to you, smiling sweetly. After a few secobds of him beckoning you to dance with him, you give him a defeated smile and take his hand. He leads you to the living room where he takes your other hand and hums along to the lyrics while he leads you two in a sweet dance, placing a little kiss on your cheek.

[gutsnhalide]

Joker : Parallelism between blood and the clown make up

The very first time I saw Joker, in a cinema in 2019, and even though I was just starting (and being terrible at) movie analysis, something caught my attention : the aspect of blood. Especially when you have several close up shots of Joaquin Phoenix’s face splattered with blood. This very bright red, shiny, opaque blood, that looks like make up. But not like a bad sfx team making a bad fake blood, like something intentional. I had been thinking about it, talking about it ever since, and starting this blog, these images haunted me, like asking me to write about them.

So I watched it again, and noticed another interesting thing. There are 5 scenes in the movie where blood is clearly seen : When Arthur kills the harassers in the subway, when he kills Randall, when he kills Murray, when he is dancing on the car and in the last scene in the asylum. And except for the asylum scene, he is wearing his clown makeup (or at least part of it). Blood represents the violence he needs to be heard, just like his clown make up is what he needs to be a political symbol. Without violence and clown makeup, he is just Arthur, a “fleck” among others, unseen, unheard, unsaved. The elites “don’t care about people like [him]”, his stand up career makes him one more dreamer crashing to the ground, his mother desperately sends letters to Thomas Wayne, her ex employer and alleged lover and father of Arthur, that never get answered.

I also noticed another interesting thing about these violence scenes, which is that each of these scenes represents, in some way, a power dynamic inversion that Arthur has to overcome to become the careless, anarchist, chaotic Joker.

As mentioned earlier, the first scene showing blood is when Arthur murders the harassers in the subway. We can notice that the blood on his face is only his own from being beaten up before the murder, as he doesn’t claim this first violence yet. He is panicked and reacts on full defensive mode. This first power dynamic inversion is against the basic everybody, that judges him, makes fun of him and mistreats him because of his disability, he is now giving that violence back, but it’s not a conscious, reflected and premeditated violence yet, he is discovering his power accidentally.

Then, Randall’s murder, where not only does he wears this blood on his face, but it is also obviously splattered on the white wall, imposing itself to our gaze, sometimes leaving the spectator almost nowhere to look that isn’t bloody. Even though  it doesn’t have blood in it, this scene to me is also linked to the murder of his mother, since Artur is overcoming two types of relatives : his own family, and his coworkers/friends. This time, the violence is premeditated as we can see Arthur take the scissors in his pocket before opening the door. But, it still has something impulsive, he frenetically stabs Randall several times before smashing his head repeatedly into the wall, and the spectator is kind of in the same position as Gary : surprised and shocked by this sudden, brutal violence, as Arthur who looked so calm the second before, almost interrupts mid talking to unleash the beast in himself. Randall’s pain screams echoes with Gary’s fear screams, making the scene confused and chaotic before we can only hear Gary scream as the sound of Arthur banging Randall’s head against the wall seems amplified, it’s almost like Gary is not actually there, just like a voice, maybe our voice, in Arthur’s head. After the murder, Arthur just catches back his breath, then start discussing again casually with Gary, as if the situation was completely normal, even joking and kissing Gary’s head before he leaves. He is appropriating the power violence is giving him.

The 3rd scene is Murray’s murder. He first starts provoking him with a sassy attitude, careless and joking about the subway murders he committed, and gets angry as he starts speaking about how no one would have cared if it had been him who got murdered in the subway and criticizing the lack of care of the elites, such as Murray or Thomas Wayne, for the rest of the people, for him, for those that are not rich and influent and asking them for compliance. He is given to finally express in front of an audience all of the helplessness and injustice he have felt his whole life through, and Murray doesn’t care to empathize and just talk to him like an angry parent to a rebellious teenager, “You’re finished ? There’s so much self pity” and not taking him seriously. In the last 20 seconds before Arthur actually shoots Murray, a metallic, rythmed sound can be heard, gradually louder, that evokes me this feeling when one is extremely angry and start feeling their heart pounding, almost hearing the beating of it in your temples and feel warmer, like an impulsion trying to overcome your control. If the system doesn’t listen to him and belittles him when he complains about injustice, then he has to kill the system. Arthur blames Murray for deciding “what’s right or wrong, the same way that you decide what’s funny or not”, and by killing him, he finally overcomes general social and moral codes. After killing him, he is smiling and satisfied, but also shaking, he seems to fully enjoy the adrenaline rush and the chaos provoked by this live murder.

Then, he is arrested. An upbeat music is playing and we can see Arthur nonchalantly looking through the police car windows and smiling at the enraged protesters in the street with the excitement of a child in a candy store, knowing he is the cause of it all. He laughs and it’s hard to say if he’s actually amused, if it come from his disability, or both. A policeman tells him to stop laughing, that the city is in chaos and that it’s his fault, to which he only answers with a delighted smile “I know, isn’t that beautiful ?”. The police car gets in an accident voluntarily caused by a protester, Arthur is hurt and seems unconscious, but protesters found him and help him. When he wakes up, the crowd cheers him. He starts dancing the way we have seen him do for example after the subway harassers murder, maybe this is some kind of coping mechanism, or a ritual to clear your mind, he seems very peaceful. He then draws a smile on his face with his own blood from the car accident injuries : Reinforcing the red smile of his clown make up, he is also presenting himself as a revolted martyr, and now his pain is literally seen and heard, plastered on his face with no possibility to look away.

And then, the ending scene where Artur is walking in the asylum, that confused a lot of people and is the source of several different theories. The one I will be going with is Arthur killing the psychiatrist and escaping the Asylum. Considering the fact that this movie is a prequel to the Joker’s forthcoming adventures with Batman, this ending scene makes a good opening for this. By killing the psychiatrist, he is attacking the idea of mental health, his “madness” is no longer a disability and it becomes a force. He now has the rebellion and the power that he needs to become the Joker, and we can imagine him starting his life of crime once he will escape from Arkham. We should also notice that during the blood smile scene, we see a protester killing Bruce Wayne’s parents, which is the original trauma that led him to become Batman. Since the Joker and Batman are very related characters, the two sides of a coin, the hero and the antihero, two traumatized men with a thirst for justice who seek it in opposite directions. Batman doesn’t exist without the Joker and the Joker doesn’t exist without Batman. Since the reason for Batman’s existence just happened, it makes sense at this moment to let Arthur go and fully become the Joker.

Woaw, that took me a lot of time to come back to and finish. I hope that you liked it anyway, and don’t expect too much regularity from me.

[ohallthecrushes]

me: Artur Fleck is ✨cute✨.

they: he killed 6 people...

me: yeah, but in a ✨cute✨ way.

[kittymsmithwritesstuff]

Miragehound: Blooming

Commission sheet if anyone is interested: Commission page!

Prompt gotten from a list of those generated by @lbloodhound , post can be found here

Length: 1145 words, now under a cut because I didn’t before for some...godforsaken reason?

Bloodhound muses some things the morning after. Also, its 2am. Help me.

Tags: soft, fluff, some humor, musings, character realizing things?, safe for work

------

Bloodhound didn’t usually do this sort of thing.

Then again, was it the sort of thing they thought it was? He was still here, the curve of his back against their side, warmth radiating off of him. He is like a furnace, they thought, eyes still closed despite being awake for the better part of a half-hour. Between him and the sunlight streaming from their window, they should be sweating. But instead, they were comfortably warm, sleepy and secure warmth. In some ways an afterglow warm, a silly thought considering all the rakish debauchery had happened many hours ago, but they could remember it so well, almost making them shiver.

What had possessed them, what magnificent creature so aloof had taken hold of their hand and pulled the mouthpiece off their mask and kissed him, right over the bar, in the light, when he was in the middle of asking them if they wanted a refill on a drink they hadn’t even tasted yet. What strange phenomena had seen how he stumbled and stuttered and decided to care, to encourage and cultivate the dangerous budding plant in their chest?

They didn’t usually do this sort of thing, but when they did, when they gave in to those little nagging human desires, it was not usually the most conscious decision.

But last night, they’d been stone-cold sober, and so had he.

They hadn’t even stopped for a drink in the apartment, or stopped to think of the ramifications of unclasping their mask and letting it clatter against the hardwood, watching him gawk before coming forward, pressing his thumb gently to the faded white line running from their lower lip to their chin and whispering, “damn” in the best way possible.

They gently passed the back of their hand over the soft skin of his back, over muscle that was thick and practical; they were surprised as anyone that he didn’t focus on vanity musculature more, but they’d come to the conclusion he liked pork chops too much-something evident in just a little bit of squish around his hips that they’d definitely appreciated the night before. He was handsome, but he was also cute. And sweet. The way he’d talked was practically manufactured just to have them looking like a tomato.

He’d looked at it, that horrible blush, and grinned and teased them-which only made it worse-but at the same time kissed their rosy cheeks, nose and forehead, their stupid bright red chin, and worked his way down. He’d been fun, cracking jokes about their freckles, ghosting his fingertips across the ones on their arms. “You know what you’re doing,” they had breathed.

“I’m just having fun,” he’d responded, a grin that could only be called doofy. “Aren’t you?”

I was, they thought, eyes flicking toward him under closed eyelids at a particularly large inhale, followed by a shift until he was on his side, facing them, the back of their hand now resting against his abdomen and the soft hair there. These things weren’t normally fun-they were enjoyable, but not fun. They didn’t happen for fun, they happened for need.

But I didn’t kiss him because I needed it. They had kissed him because he was babbling, running a hand through his hair in nervous reverence. They had kissed him because his russet eyes had gold flecks in the light that seemed to dance. They had kissed him because he had four bartenders working and was still behind the counter, unwilling to let anyone else help them. They had kissed him because they wanted to.

Part of them had to wonder if Elliot did this sort of thing-don’t you know how it works, trickster? You leave by sunrise; I feed Artur and spend the next three months trying not to think about how it felt to dig my nails into your back. But it was far past sunrise, near noon if they had to guess by how the light laid over their eyelids. And he was still here, only just stirring if they had to guess. Or maybe he’d gotten up earlier, woke at sunrise like the rest but decided to stay. Was it possible he wanted to stay-that he had wanted it as much as them, not needed it? His bumbling flirting was charming, but had that night been the only time he’d attempted it?

The bud had begun to grow. It paid no mind to their halfhearted protests.

Catching feelings was also not a usual Bloodhound habit. Their purpose included the exact opposite. To serve the Allfather as the ultimate warrior, to venture the world for all the knowledge they could, sacrifice in his name, and take pride in their work required very little attachment. Obviously, another person was quite a lot of attachment.

And yet I want it, the warmth of him spread through the bed of their nails, I want it greatly.

Maybe it was a sign. A shift in the path of their fate-Freya could have weaved them a new one, Allfather’s wishes perhaps aligning, perhaps not. Could be they’d rewritten their own path, however rare it was in the weaving branches of fate.

His hand moved, touching their shoulder, then sliding down their chest to the dip of their belly, resting there. They realized he must be awake when he propped himself on an elbow, and somehow, they kept their breathing even. Even when his fingers, so soft, brushed over their hip bone, back and forth, a soft drag.

They thought for a moment if they should really let this happen, finally let that devilish little plant take hold and spread its roots through their heart. Let themself want, and maybe be wanted. His hand ran up again, over old scars without hesitating, without tiptoeing or fussing, over their chest and their far shoulder to rest by it on the mattress, to lean over so they could feel the heat coming off his chest until their lips tingled from how close he was. They held their breath, expecting it, waiting, wanting.

But he didn’t.

He hesitated and let out the slightest sigh, pulling away. They caught the arm by their head, quick but loose fingered, so he could if he wanted to.

But he didn’t.

They opened their eyes slowly, blinking at the halo of light around him, framing his curls, his face, eyebrows raised, a curious frown softening to a smile as they focused in on him.  They squeezed his arm gently, speaking softly, afraid of breaking the quiet. “If you won’t do it,” they whispered, “I will.”

He chuckled, a fuzzy little thing, leaning down again, as close as he was before and gazing at them a minute and kissing them, the little plant in their chest blossoming, because they could feel it, in the gentle soft-skinned press.

They had wanted him.

And felt wanted just the same.

[fleckficgirl]

I love you, Arthur. You're so...Arthurian 😆

[archaickysodomita]

Ty, západní mánička : Arthur Fleck, The Joker

Já, Jihočeský intelektuál : Artur Skvrna, Žolík

[theart2rock]

Attick Demons mit ihrem dritten Album

ATTICK DEMONS stehen für klassischen Metal ohne Firlefanz, aber auch ohne den Staub des Ewiggestrigen. Mit einem Vierteljahrhundert Karriere auf dem Rücken spielen diese Portugiesen frisches Traditionsmetall mit gewaltigen Riffs, großen Melodien, jeder Menge Power und Tonnen von Herzblut. Das haben auch diverse namhafte Mitstreiter schnell erkannt. Auf den ersten Alben der ATTICK DEMONS waren hochkarätige Gäste zu hören, u.a. Paul Di´Anno, Chris Caffery und Ross The Boss. ATTICK DEMONS traten z.B. mit W.A.S.P., Moonspell, Overkill, In Flames, Arch Enemy, Hammerfall, Sabaton, U.D.O. und Ensiferum auf und waren auf kultigen Festivals wie Metaldays, Vagos Metal Fest, Swordbrothers und dem Sabaton Open Air zu erleben. Der neue Longplayer “Daytime Stories, Nightmare Tales” zeigt erneut, dass die Band ihr Herz auf dem rechten Fleck trägt. Das Album klingt wie eine etwas härtere Version klassischer NWOBHM-Großtaten, bei der auch mal runtergestimmte Siebensaiter zum Einsatz kommen dürfen, ohne die Roots zu verwässern. Textlich geht es um Okkultismus und die heimische Geschichte, wodurch auch einige traditionelle lokale Instrumente wie Bandolim, Cavaquinho and Braguesa eingesetzt werden. Ihr neues Album ‘Daytime Stories, Nightmare Tales’ erscheint am 25. September 2020! Lasst Euch begeistern!

Album vorbestellen: Erhältlich als Jewel Case CD, Limited Black Vinyl & Digital streaming/download.

TRACK LIST: 1. Contract 2. Make Your Choice 3. Renegade 4. The Revenge of the Sailor King 5. Hills of Sadness 6. Headbanger 7. Devil’s Crossroad 8. O Condestavel 9. Running

ATTICK DEMONS is: Artur Almeida – Vocals Nuno Martins – Guitars Dario Antunes – Guitars João Clemente – Bass Ricardo Oliveira – Drums

Quelle: Gordeon Music

Attick Demons mit ihrem dritten Album was originally published on The Art 2 Rock

[arthurflecksgirl]

My writing about Arthur - Masterlist

Arthur is the light of my soul, my one and only, my comfort.

If you do find comfort in Arthur too, I hope my writing will bring you joy.

My ask box is open. Feel free to reach out anytime.

Thank you, Joaquin,for the most wonderful experience in my entire life. Meeting you was beyond magical. Those beautifu moments being shared will forever shine a light in my heart for as long as my soul will exist.

(March 26th.2023. New York city)

Drawings

Klick HERE for my artwork

Full movie in Arthurs point of view  (My version)

Full movie in Arturs point of view part one

Full movie Arthurs point of view part two

To be continued....

Fictions

Darkness caving in / A look into Arthurs diary

Dear Arthur /Fictional character love

Artie fallls in love with you /Fluff

Being Arthurs first love /headcanons

Things I really want to do with Arthur Fleck

Stompin on a dream / erotic short story

Taking a shower with Arthur / Headcanons

Are you Arthurs hallucination?

A love letter to Arthur

Cute headcanons about Arthur

Poetry dedicated to Arthur:

Arthurs tear

Grace

Soul

Duality

Love

Check out the tag #poemsforarthur for lots more of my poetry dedicated to him

MORE FICTION

Dinner for Arthur   

Fever dream - Taking care of sick Arthur

Mysterious stranger /Arthur being stalked by a girl/you

Drunk Arthur Headcanons

Amusement park tour with Arthur Headcanons

Exploring Arthurs body

Arthur putting Joker make up on you

Arthur gaining weight /Tummy love

Arthur and you getting arrested and handcuffed to one another during the riots

You being Arthurs first kiss

Arthur writes you a love letter

Ginger cat dreams /Helping Arthur with his anxiety

The music inside of him

Plushy clowns and happy tears

Icecream and belly rubs

Blood and passion

Message in a bottle / Arthurs lost diary pages

Helping Arthur with his laughing condition

Thoughts on loving Arthur

Arthurs first camping trip

Maybe a little sad /A look into Jokers mind

Joker saving a girl from bad guys

I had a bad day /Arthurs point of view

A day at the beach /Making Arthurs dream come true

Hiding in the fridge /Arthurs point of view

Arthur making love to you at the beach

A hug from Murray

Being stuck in the elevator with Arthur

White noise

Despite reality

The invisible man

Helping Arthur feeling save / His first time with you

Gemstone eyes

Arthur suffering from nightmares/You comforting him

Meeting Carnival

Behind the make up

Making love to Arthurs hands

Send in the clowns/ Subway scene/ Arthurs point of view

I`m gonna be a comedian / Arthur at Pogos

Who would love a sad clown?

Seeing red

Pennys funeral

Arthur singing you a song

Fullfilling Arthus childhood dream

Knock, knock

How Arthur decited to become a clown

White room

Becoming ONE with Arthur

On the edge of a knife / Erotic Joker fiction

Forever ends today /Jokers point of view

Punshlines /Joker point of view (part 2 of the above)

Fever dream

A happier version of the Murray Franklin show

Romantic things Arthur loves to do with you

Arthurs first crush back in scool

An orchestra of chaos /Joker being jealous

Sharp bones and beams of light

Misery you got to go

Thunderstorms and candlelight

Being on Arthurs side while he finds out he is adopted

Triggers

As close as you can get

Arthur crying happy tears for the first time

Soft curls across your skin /Erotic headcanons

Washing Arthurs hair

Inhale me

Intimacy /Just a thought about his eyelashes

Lost for words /Poem

Arthur getting caught by you while touching himself

You calming Arthurs bouncy leg

You being emotionally attached to Arthurs jacket

Arthur asking you why you love him

Arthur being insecure about his own body

Arthur as your boyfriend /Headcanons

I`ve got you under my skin

Arthur touching things and touching you

Stay inside /Erotic nights with Arthur

Forever and a day / You saving Arthur from an overdose

Loving the details of Arthurs body

Arthurs first shopping trip with you

Arthur trying to make you laugh while you`re feeling sick

You writing poetry on Arthurs body

Motels and highways /Going on a roadtrip with Arthur

Good morning,,Arthur!

Brothers/ A happier version of Arthur meeting Bruce/ Arthurs point of view

Kissing Arthurs ankles and toes

Arthur doing the household /Headcanons

Arthur trying to be a good son

Arthur playing you like an instrument

Arthur taking care of you after you lost consciousness

You and Arthur are best friends and secretly in love with each other

Arthur helping you during an asthma attack

Sleepy nights

You being afraid of Arthur being mad at you

Arthur helping you with your insecurities

Arthur being empathic while you`re in pain

Arthur being your first

Arthur giving you neck kisses

Arthur receiving little love notes

Protective arms and fireworks

Arthur helping you get dressed and bathe while in pain

Arthur warming you up after a snow storm

I always was

Arthur getting drunk

Spotlights / Arthurs point of view

Christmas eve with Arthur  /Headcanons

Intimacy

Headcanons Arthur touching himself and daydreaming

Arthur & Sophie in the elevator / his point of view

Sophie taking care of Arthur

Make a wish

Foreplay

Arthur kissing your ear

Arthur and you having phone sex

Doing a full body paint on Arthur

Artie and Joker comforting after nightmares

Take me in

If Arthur was a flower

A loving hand /Arthurs point of view

Kissing away the blood

Arthur comforting you during the pandemic

Arthur using his hands on you

Arthur buying new underwear to surprise you

Joining Arthur in the bathtub

Caught between warm skin

Arthur dancing with you in the living room

Arthur coming home to you after he has been fired

Arthur comes home to you after the blood smile

You are enough, Arthur/ Erotic short story

Arguing with Arthur

You forgetting your sweater at Arthurs apartment

Arthur at a massage center

Things Arthur would say while making love

Blank pages

Arthur and insecure reader

Picking Arthur up from Arkham

Sweet anticipation

Pleasing Arthur

As sweet as honey

Your first Halloween spent with Arthur

Arthur being touched for the first time

Reader finds out she is pregnant with Arthurs child

Arthur and you are getting matching tattoos

Arthur being a male stripper at HaHas

Reader comforts after after killing Randall

Arthurs thoughts while making love

Arthur suffers from intrusive thoughts

Reader defending Arthur at HaHas

Arthur comforting you while you`re having a panic attack

A son like you / Arthurs POV

In Hoyts office/ Arthus POV

Arthur comforting reader during this time of the month

Erotic moments with Arthur

A smile shouldnt hurt /Opening scene Arthurs POV

Full movie in Arthurs point of view part one

Arthur following Sophie/ His POV

Arthur listening to jokes/ His POV

Arthur writing about mental illness/ His POV

Arthur on his wedding day

Silly winter fun with Arthur

Doctor of laughter/ Arthurs POV

Bathroom dance /Arthurs POV

Subway scene Arthurs POV

FULL MOVIE/ Arthurs point of view part TWO

Arthurs wedding night

Last day at HaHas/ Arthurs POV

Therapy / Arthurs POV

Up on stage /Arthurs POV

Smile /Arthurs POV

Arthur spending time with his pregnant girlfriend

Arthurs notes part 1 Drifting

Ocean breeze/ Valentines day with Arthur

Reader recovering from self harm, Arthur being there for her

A save place / Arthur comforts reader who suffers from depression

[arthurflecksgirl]

Imagin there was a journal with all of our romantic and wild fantasies about Arthur and he would get it as a present and read it . Imagin the cute faces he would make reading how wanted he is.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Asking Arthur if you can touch his hair *Headcanon

Imagin you and Arthur just started dating and you`re askin him for the first time, if you can touch his hair. You longed for the sensation of his curls between your fingers since you first saw him and asking him if you are allowed to do it makes you weak in the knees.

Imagin the surprised look at his face when he says “You wanna touch my hair???” He can`t understand why someone would want that but he feel so flattered as you tell him that it looks so soft and beautiful and you wish to touch it.

He lets you of course and you can see his cheeks turning red as you gently let your fingers run through his hair, until they got tangled up in his curls. Arthur closes his eyes and starts to hum quietly.He likes it. He likes it very much.

“It feels wonderful” he whispers and you lean in to place a soft kiss on his lips, asking him if he would mind if you bury your nose in his hair, because you also long to smell it.

Artie looks kinda embarassed but happy, nodding.

So you get closer and closer until your face is buried in the curls behind his neck, taking a deep breath while your hand is touching the back of his head. “You smell so good” you whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

He would stand there with his arms hanging down on him, unsure what he should do or how he shold behave. Overwhelmed by the fact that someone gets so emotional and turned on just by touching and smelling his hair.

“I should have washed it in the morning” he says, with a shy undertone to it and you shake your head, kissing his neck, telling him that this is just perfect.

Imagin how it would make him feel.

So loved. So wanted.

Happy.

[arthurflecksgirl]

Sharing your fave book with Arthur

@ajokeformur-ray `s post about showing Arthur your fave music made me think of showing him your fave book.

Arthur had a book on his beside table after Penny was gone, sadly we cannot see the title because the ashtray is hiding it, but I am dying to know what kinda book it was. He was re creating the table beside the bed after she got to the hospital so I am sure it was his book. Its probably a book that means something to him. Maybe jokes. Or a romance. I wanna read it so bad and try to find him between the lines. A favourite book can say a lot about a person.

My fave book is “The little prince” by Antoine de Saint Exupery and I would LOOOOOOVVVEEE to show this one to Arthur. Maybe he already knows it because it was already known at that time. I love the whole message of that story and I think Arthur would understand and love it.

I`d like to read it to him while he is trying to find some sleep. That would be amazing. I guess little kid Arthur never knew what a bedtime story is. So why not read him one as an adult? He needs this kind of attention and love. I would read him The little prince  while playing with his hair, watching him listening, but getting sleepier until he drifts away into a peaceful sleep.