Put on a Happy Face

(Lol these aren’t really meant to be taken seriously or anything, these are just my first impressions of that name because my brain is overthinking things like always, and if I don’t flesh all these ideas out, I will go crazy haha. Also p.s. forgive my cheesy subheadings and any typos, I am writing this so fast rn.)

The Love

First off, there’s no celebrity or public figure that I think Arthur could have been referring to by that name. @bloodsmile​ reminded me that Joaquin said Arthur remembered a crush from when he was a kid, so my main thought is that’s who he’s likely talking about? How many crushes has he had in his life? Who knows? But it’s most likely one of them, because we already know based on his “relationship” with Sophie that it is not unusual for him to fixate on one woman and essentially idolize her.

The Girl That Got Away

The last name “Day” initially made me think of Doris Day, the singer, which made me think of Doris Day, the woman Freddie Quell loved in The Master, and who (SPOILER ALERT!!!) married another man while Freddie was away. Though maybe not what was at all intended, the repeated theme of unreciprocated love leaves me wondering.

The Meaning

I’m also just interested in why this name? Yeah, it may not even have a meaning, and I wouldn’t complain because that would fit with a big theme of the movie, but since we’re overanalyzing, I want to find a meaning. And speaking of “meaning”, Arthur’s own last name was intended to sound like “nothing”, like “he’s the king of nothing”. Additionally, his first name, “Arthur”, was based on King Arthur, and was chosen because of the sense of regality that came with it. You know what other name has almost become synonymous with royalty? Alex, particularly the shortened version of Alexandra, a name which Google tells me means, “From the Greek Alexandra, the female form of Alexandros, from alexein meaning ‘to ward off, keep off, turn away, defend, protect’ and aner meaning ‘man’.” A.K.A. the defender/protector of man (or men). Do I think he wishes someone would protect him at some point? Probably. Literally who knows, I’m already looking way too much into this haha

But also, the surname “Day” is apparently technically a shortened version of the name “David”, a name which in Hebrew means “beloved”.

The Literature

Additionally, the name “Alexandra” comes up Dostoevsky’s novel, Netochka Nezvanova (translated: Nameless Nobody), as Alexandra is the older half-sister of one of the main characters. (Hint, hint - who else is potentially supposed to be an older half-sibling of a particular character in a particular movie???) Also, Netochka herself has an upbringing that involves an ailing mother, a brutal father-figure, her own love of music, discoveries about the past through a letter from another charachter’s lover, and a glimpse into what it means to be “insane”. (I haven’t read this book, but I want to, so please if anyone has read it, feel free to add/correct me!) 

Dostoevsky also wrote a book we are probably all more aware of, Crime and Punishment, in which one of the main messages warns of the potential a nihilistic society has to create dangerous individuals. 

And finally, Scorsese’s own Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver supposedly shares many similarities with Dostoevsky’s Underground Man, though I would need to look more into those to elaborate on them. But who is Joker partially inspired by???

The Actress

Finally finally finally haha we get to just a random idea I had, but considering Joaquin may have been referencing anyone at all we may know, I looked up “Alice Day”, which in my mind, sounds close enough to “Alex Day”. Alice Day was an actress from the 1920s era “golden age of Hollywood”. Other than her appearance in movies with various titles such as Skin Deep, Times Square, The Way of the Strong, See You In Jail, The Melody Man, Is Everybody Happy?, and The Show of Shows-

I can’t think of any possible connection Arthur/Joker would have to her, so there probably isn’t any or is there?? lol

Anyway, thank you for letting me delve in to this. Probably none of these are accurate or even close lol, but I just think certain coincidences, especially with other pieces of fiction, are really interesting!!

some more info about the choice of colors reflecting not only Arthur's environment but also his emotions

and also the fact that the pajama he wears is actually his mother's

anonymous said: coaxing Arthur to touch you, and being so shy about it

pairing: Arthur Fleck x Reader

warnings: shy!Arthur, nervous touching, sweet smut, light fingering, dry humping

word count: 2,000

There was yet another power outage in the rundown city of Gotham. It was usually the broken apartments that had power cut off while the riches were perfectly fine. You’re not sure why society frowned upon the lower class. There are people with disabilities, single mothers who have young children, hard working college students with loans to pay back, families in debt - the list goes on and on. You’re apart of that list. Juggling two jobs to care of your never ending bills and lessening food wasn’t the easiest in the world. Working as a waitress by day and an exotic dancer by night. You were never fully accepted as a person. Most people called you a whore for being a dancer or a broke bitch for being a waitress. There was no in between. One person who didn’t think that way was Arthur Fleck.

You’ve always had a soft spot for the reserved man. You befriended him the minute you settled into the rundown building, just down the hall from Arthur. You had learned he had a neurological disorder where he laughs uncontrollably at inappropriate times, mostly based on his anxiety. His mother had recently passed away and he’s been living alone ever since. You’ve heard about him from the other neighbors. How “disturbed” and “bat shit crazy” he is. You don’t judge others based on a few words from ignorant people who are small minded. Arthur is probably the best thing that ever happened to you, and that’s saying a lot.

You were in the middle of a shower when the dingy bathroom light flickered repeatedly before cutting off completely. You’re lucky the water didn’t cut off as it has in the past. You hurried as you changed in a pair of your cotton shorts and tank top, not caring how cold it became in your small apartment. You just needed the one thing that kept you sane.

You left after locking your door and made a small walk to Arthur’s apartment. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea bothering him, not knowing if he was asleep or busy. You immediately regret the decision to go there when you knocked on the door.

“Stupid,” you mumbled to yourself, beginning to turn to walk away, but the sound of the door opening quickly made you stop.

“Y/N? Wh-What’re you doing here?” Arthur’s voice was soft and confused when he sees you standing before him shivering like a stray puppy.

“Um…the power cut off again…and-and I don’t wanna be alone. I’m so sorry for bothering you, Artie,” you began to profusely apologize.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he reassured you and opened the door wider for you to come in. “Are you hungry? Did you eat?” 

“A while ago, yeah,” you offered him a small smile and wrapped your arms tighter around your stomach as you stepped deeper into his surprisingly warm apartment. 

“I-I made some soup…I don’t know if you want some later, but…feel free to help yourself,” Arthur awkwardly smiles and moves his lanky body to the mustard yellow couch.

You refrained from jumping on him and attacking his face with kisses because of how sweet and incredibly generous he’s being with you. His soul might be broken, but the person within him is definitely pure. You took a seat a few inches away from him, tucking your cold feet under yourself as you trained your eyes on the television. The Murray Franklin Show was playing on videotape. You looked over at Arthur and softly grinned at how entranced he became. His eyes held a childlike innocence that made you want to protect him the harsh Gotham city. 

You couldn’t help but focus on the cigarette held between his index and middle fingers. His hand was so relaxed, the veins protruding from his skin and going down his forearm. You watched with parted lips as he brought the caner stick to his lips, hallowing his cheeks and sucking slowly as if to savor the flavor of the nicotine. When he exhales, that’s when he notices you’re staring.

“Oh!” He seemed alarmed and immediately put out his cigarette in the ashtray. “I-I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if it was okay.” He apologized profusely and ran both hands through his hair, lightly tugging at the ends of his curls.

“Artie, no, it’s okay,” you rest a gentle hand on his arm. “Can I have one?” 

Arthur seems surprised, thin lips parting and green eyes briefly widening. He reaches for his pack and slides a cigarette out, handing over to you with a slightly crooked smile. You place the tip between your own lips and lean on close as he holds the lighter. Your hands lightly hold onto his wrist as you suck your cheeks in to hold the cigarette over the flame. Arthur’s eyes follow, his wrist tingling from your soft fingertips and manicured nails. You pull away completely just as he clears his throat quietly. It was silent between you both, except for the ending applause of the recorded talk show. 

“Can…Can I ask you something?” Arthur asks you, keeping his voice gentle and steady when the recording cuts off, and you’re both left in dim lighting from the small living room lamp. 

“Of course, Arthur,” you tell him.

He seems nervous as he avoids looking in your direction. He sniffles quietly and gnaws on his bottom lip, an action of which you can’t ignore. He shuffles in his seat and scrapes a fingernail over the palm of his hand.

“Have…Have you ever thought about leaving Gotham? Like…finding a new life for yourself instead of…this,” he quietly asks you, weakly waving a hand around to get his point across. 

“I have,” you mumbled and put the cigarette down to move closer to Arthur. “Gotham was the only…available option for me. It’s cheap, there’s transportation, not the best people, but it was enough for me. But…there have been times where I was close to leaving, and there was always something stopping me.”

“What?” Arthur was curious, eyes similar to those of a small puppy. 

“I feel like if I told you, you wouldn’t be too…accepting,” you whispered and hugged your knees tighter to your chest. 

“Tell me,” he begged quietly.

“Um,” you uncomfortably laughed and found your hands more interesting than Arthur’s beautiful eyes. “It’s you, Artie. I-I always wanted to leave, but…when I met you, I didn’t know what the point was if you weren’t leaving with me…”

It seemed as though time stopped for Arthur. He wasn’t sure what to say or do, except stare at your small frown. He can feel the air inside the small living room get thicker. He cleared his throat as he felt the familiar tickle rising from his stomach and settling into his chest.

“Do you really think that?” He shyly asked you. 

You moved even closer and lowered your legs to sit sideways as you faced him. You held on hand between your own, your thumb tracing the veins that sit there. 

“Of course I do, Artie. Everything felt so different when I met you. You’re just so sweet and genuine and you make me incredibly happy. And if I were to ever leave Gotham, I want you right there with me,” you passionately said. 

Arthur lets out a small laugh as a few tears rolled down his slightly wrinkled face. He sniffled and nodded shakily at your words. You cooed and wiped your thumbs under his eyes to erase those tears.

“I care for you, Arthur Fleck,” you whispered and slowly leaned in closer with your hand resting gently on his cheek. “I need you with me, more than you.”

“I-I need you too,” Arthur’s voice cracks. 

“Can I kiss you?” You mumbled softly as you rest your forehead on his, your lashes fluttering against his high cheekbone. 

When he enthusiastically nods, you finally lean forward and press your lips to his with a gentleness that Arthur has never felt before. You can sense his inexperience when his lips opened and closed like a fish out of water. You pulled away panting quietly, both hands holding Arthur’s cheeks. He licks his lips to savor the taste of you on his tongue.

“Have you ever touched a girl before, Arthur?” You breathlessly asked him.

He hesitantly shook his head. The truth is that he did touch a girl under the skirt before in school, and that earned him a hard smack across the face while the popular school boys laughed at poor Arthur’s embarrassment. You took his hand and placed in your bare thigh. Goosebumps immediately rose to the surface from his rough palm and warm skin. Arthur lets out a soft breath and eagerly pressed his lips to yours again. He lets out a small whimper as you slowly slid his hand higher and higher along your inner thigh. 

“You’re doing so good,” you whispered against his lips when you both pulled away. “Do you want more, honey?” 

Arthur frantically nods, curls bouncing around his neck from the movements. You brought his hand under your tank top and allowed his fingers to skim across your stomach. You shivered and slid his hands inside your shorts. Arthur pressed his fingers against your panties, making him feel the wetness on the fabric and the outline of your swelling clit. 

“So warm,” he mumbles in awe, pressing his fingers more firmly against your clothed pussy to feel more. 

You can sense Arthur’s excitement and eagerness to feel and do more. You straddled his lap, forcing his back against the couch as your arms cradled his head. Arthur’s eyes quickly shut when you kissed him yet again. It was like an elegant dance, your lips. Gentle sucking and hushed moans are making a liquid fire ignite in the pit of your stomach. You pressed yourself further onto his lap, subtly grinding forward and back. 

“Relax, honey,” you whispered, curling your arms tighter around his neck so he can feel every inch of your body. “Close your eyes and listen to my voice…feel my body, Artie.”

“So good,” he shakily whispers and buried his face in your neck, sliding his hands up your thighs and curling around your hips. “K-Keep going, please.”

“Yeah?” You hummed lightly, brushing your nose against his as you ground your hips a little harder and faster, sliding your clothed pussy up and down along his thickening bulge that’s tucked away in his blue slacks. 

“Like that,” he gasps. 

You can feel the heat pooling in your panties. The friction felt so fucking good against Arthur’s cock. You need more, you craved more. You took his hand and slid it into your panties, allowing him to feel your wetness and heat. 

“Use your th-thumb to rub my clit,” you panted softly.

“Clit?” He whimpered and bucked his hips. 

You moved his thumb until it was settled over the swollen nub. “There.”

He rubbed back and forth, up and down, all around. The rough pad of his thumb made you pussy clench as he pressed down. Your eyes threatened to cross as you held onto the couch on either side of Arthur’s shoulder. You can feel that familiar heat from the tips of your toes and spreading to your temples. 

“I-I feel…something,” he pants heavily in your bare shoulder, the strap of your tank top sliding down, causing him to bite down on your skin. “F-Fuck…”

You clamped down around his wrist and let out a final moan in his ear, twitching and panting as you feel a bead of sweat sliding down your back. Arthur has never felt this weird sensation in all his years. He has touched himself, but could never get himself aroused enough to finish. His knees jerk up, forcing you into his chest. He feels a warm wetness spilling into his blue slacks. His stomach muscles twitch and trembling from the overwhelming sensation. 

“W-What was that?” He managed to mumble in your shoulder.

“You just came,” you giggled quietly, pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks, chin,a and his parted lips. 

“C-Can we do…more?” He awkwardly asks you. 

“Whatever you want, Artie.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ ﾟ:

Tag List (let me know if you wanna be removed or added pleath):

Summary: You’ve been asleep for almost twelve hours and he’s desperate for your attention. For your clown is a cuddly clown, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Arthur // wc: 973.

Arthur watched from the doorway as you shifted underneath the covers, which moved with your body. You stretched, your toes peeking out from beneath that warm cocoon which had protected your slumbering form; shielding you from the natural chill of the apartment. Oh, but you looked so heavenly like this. He hoped that you were dreaming sweetly, if not of him then of something which brought that serene, relaxed look to your face. 

Arthur had been awake for hours now, since before the sun had risen to kiss the horizon, brightening the dark blue night sky with hues of oranges and reds which bled together and steadily lightened out into a surprisingly sunny day in the usually grey and grim Gotham; for it seemed that the atmosphere was a fan of pathetic fallacy when it came to this long since forgotten and neglected city. He hadn’t been able to sleep and so he had gotten up, but it seemed that you were sleeping long enough for the both of you as seven hours ticked into nine, which ticked into twelve…

He frowned as your toes remained outside of the duvet and he made a soft noise of worry, making his way quickly and gracefully across the room so that he could pull the duvet back over your toes, his fingers meticulously pushing the material down around your feet so that you couldn’t get chilled toes from any angle; he wanted you to continue sleeping like this for as long as your body needed to, no matter how badly he wanted you to wake up.

It was approaching noon and it was a Sunday today; your only day off together. You always spent your Sundays together, no matter what, but it seemed that this week would you be spending yours in bed. Arthur’s brows creased, those lines on his forehead deepening. He wished that you weren’t so worn down over your busy week; sleeping for twelve hours straight was not healthy; this he knew. He wished for you to have a better lifestyle; one which respected your personal energy levels and enabled you adequate sleep all through the week so that you didn’t have to play catch up on Sunday and break into the scant time which the two of you had to carve out for each other every week. 

But it was not to be.

Arthur came to the head of the bed, the softest and most tender of smiles on his weathered face as he simply watched you. He supposed it was creepy, watching someone else sleep, but he knew that you watched him, sometimes, and so he figured that you wouldn’t mind him returning the favour; whether you knew about it or not.

You just looked so cosy, your arms flung outwards from your body, your head turned away from Arthur so that he could see the curve of your cheekbones, a sliver of your neck exposed. He bent down at the waist and placed a kiss to the warm flesh there, his hands creeping over to the edge of the duvet so that he could pull it up, up, to your chin, shielding you from the room. The apartment was cold and he didn’t want for you to get sick even though he was only wearing a baggy pair of electric blue trousers, himself, so little care did he show for himself. 

“You’re sleeping so happily, Y/N,” Arthur smiled, he smiled, and had you been wake to witness it, your heart would have stopped for a beat and your breath would have caught in your throat. As it was, you made a sleepy mumble and turned towards Arthur, one of your hands draping over the edge of the bed. Arthur took it up in his and raised it to press a kiss to the back. “But I wish you’d wake up. I miss you.” He pouted, he pouted, and Arthur heard you giggle so vividly in his mind that for a second did he think that you had awoken from your slumber. But alas, you were still sleeping.

You made another noise which Arthur knew to mean that you were waking up and with a tiny skip and several small, hurried steps did Arthur leave your side, running around to his side of the bed and clambering in, his body sliding easily between the sheets as he pulled you into his arms, his lips pursed as he feathered kisses to your neck, the underside of your chin… He burrowed down, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a happy sigh and then he just waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long.

You looped your arms around his neck, slowly, your grip incredibly loose. Knowing you as he did, Arthur slowly moved so that he was resting atop you, his lips getting to work once more as he kissed you awake, each time his lips lingered against your skin as he breathed you in.

“Mornin’.” You croaked, your voice rough with sleep, and Arthur made a soft noise of love as he gazed at you. You were an angel, he was sure of it now.

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead.”

You smiled lazily and leaned up to press a kiss to Arthur’s neck. “I’m sleepin’ like that ‘gain if it means you wake me like that.”

Arthur whined and dropped his head into the crook of your neck once more, shaking his head. “No~,” He hummed, “Miss you too much.”

A sleepy giggle left you as you tightened your arms around him in the first hug of the day, closing your eyes to just enjoy the moment, parting your legs so that Arthur could fill the space between them. There was only sensual love between you at this moment and it was everything you needed this day.

Good afternoon, indeed.

Joker // wc: 1, 203.

He’s so beautiful I’m going to cry.

Joker wanted to wake you up. He really wanted to wake you up. 

You had been sleeping for twelve hours - twelve - and he needed his attention. Why were you sleeping and wasting away your day when you could have been loving on him the way he deserved to be this entire time? Oh, but you were so beautiful in your sleep, your face and body unguarded. At that realisation did an extremely protective urge to forever keep you in this apartment overcome him; no harm could befall you and you would always be safe with him; always. But Joker knew that that was a particularly unhealthy thought and so he had never acted upon it or even voiced it; to do so would be to speak it into existence and he didn’t want to ruin your thoughts of him.

It was therefore with jittery movements and a complete inability to sit still for longer than ten minutes at a time that Joker spent his morning smoking more than his usual pack a day and cleaning the apartment with decidedly aggressive energy; his urge to wake you up had to be controlled; you needed your sleep. You were always so tired, so hard did you relentlessly work, and he wanted for you to get as much rest as you could before the world commanded your days for the rest of the week until the next Sunday; your only day together. That was something that had never changed in your relationship; Sundays were yours and Arthur’s. It was non-negotiable.

So then why, oh why, were you still asleep at almost noon?

Joker wanted his attention and his Y/N and he wanted it and you now.

It was with the quiet humming of That’s Life and with several skips, hands nervously tugging at the corners of his red blazer that Joker made his way into his bedroom, the cleaning of the apartment forgotten for the time being, and his entire body came to a sudden halt as he looked at the bed. He could barely see you, just a mound of the floral duvet and the top of your head. 

“Awh, how sweet.” Joker smiled affectionately, fighting with himself as he turned this way and that in the doorway - to wake you or to let you sleep? As he spun around in a full and graceful pirouette did you answer his dilemma for him with a sleepy groan as you slowly opened your eyes, squinting at the ceiling, before you moaned and shut them again, turning away from the window and shielding your face from the sunlight that spilt in from the minute gaps in the curtains. 

With a soft chuckle did Joker make his way over to the bed, bending at the waist so that he could press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your warm skin. Oh, but you were so hot he could feel the warmth radiating off you and it only made him want to join you all the more. He fought with himself once again; would getting under the sheets with you wake you up? But then… you had already opened your eyes, so surely you wouldn’t mind… Joker rolled his eyes at himself; of course, you wouldn’t mind. How many times had you told him that he was more than welcome to follow through on his whims when it came to you? Hell, there were times you had climbed into bed fully clothed to be by his side when he decided that the world wasn’t what he wanted and that he would rather stay in bed…

A hand came out of the duvet and groped around for Joker - you found the corner of his blazer and your fingers closed around it as you tugged without any real energy or intention; had he not been watching you, Joker wouldn’t have even felt you pulling at the bright material. The message was clear: stop thinking and get in. About how to get in, though… your grip on his clothing was getting a little stronger in your sleepy impatience and as you shifted, the duvet slipped down your chest and Joker’s mouth went dry. You were ethereal. His hands came down to finger the edge of the material and you sleepily blinked up at him, a smile coming to your face and your clown was gone. 

There could be no more debating, no more thinking… There could only be actions.

He pulled the duvet back and easily clambered atop you, his movements slow and careful as he eased his weight down onto you. Your arms looped around his shoulders and you pulled him down to you, parting your legs so that he could fill the gaps with his lithe form; his laying on top of you had always been a tradition between the two of you. Joker became everything which filled your senses and it had always been the best way to ground you when you needed it. 

With an amused chuckle did Joker gaze down at you, his green oceans taking all of you in as he just waited for you to wake up a little more. You could easily fall back asleep right now, he could see it, but now that Joker had you at the very least at threshold consciousness did he want the second most important thing - his attention. He was a needy clown.

“Y/N~” In a sing-song voice did Joker get your attention as you blearily opened your eyes, squinting in the harsh natural light, muffled though it was by the closed curtains. “Wakey wakey. It’s almost noon.”

You huffed and turned your face into his shoulder, using Joker’s body to hide from him. His chest vibrated with suppressed amusement but he allowed you this time to wake up on your own. He stayed, and he waited, his body alive with enthusiasm because you were awake! As he anticipated for you to wake up properly, he moved his body so that he could press kisses to your face. Your forehead, your closed eyelids, the bridge of your nose, your temples, both cheeks, your jawline, your chin, the underside of your chin… With every kiss did you smile sleepily, Joker’s own curving upwards against your skin as his sharp gaze caught your happy gestures. It was as if his kisses were re-fuelling you, for with each other did you become more and more alert.

It was at the moment you tilted your head into his kiss on the corner of your mouth that Joker had to pull his lips from yours so that he could laugh; you were so impatient even when you were getting what you wanted. The bed shook with his movements and you frowned, your hands creeping out of the duvet so that you could grab his face and press a full kiss to his painted lips.

“’Noon, Joker.” Your voice was rough with sleep and he loved it.

“Hmm,” Joker practically purred with satisfaction, “Afternoon. Care to join the world of the living?”

He hadn’t really given you a choice, but you found yourself unable to mind so long as he kept looking at you like that.

❤️💛💙 some clowny valentines  💙💛❤️ + bonus: