Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Schoolboy crush - Part 3 - Arthur x Reader

Arthur raced into the apartment building. Today was letter day. Today a high quality white envelope with beautiful handwriting would be sitting proudly in his letterbox. Even after all those long years, she had kept the promise that she had made that late afternoon when they were still kids. A pinkie promise to the only boy that had ever walked her home. And no matter where she was in the world, she still wrote to him once a week. And the day the letter arrived, was always the highlight of his week.

Since the afternoon in (Y/n)'s room. Since they had spent all evening, and the rest of the night talking about possibilities for the future. Arthur finding himself waking up snuggled under the blankets with (Y/n) the next morning. There had been something more between them. A newer, stronger friendship. Something that Arthur believed that he would never have. And even though she had left after school ended. Even though she had never returned to Gotham. (Y/n) had never forgotten about him. Or their friendship.

Excitedly Arthur opened the box. A small smile gracing his lips as the pure white piece of stationary stared back at him. There was always a familiar smell to the correspondence. A sweet, floral odour that Arthur had always presumed was (Y/n)'s perfume. But whatever it was, it had become Arthur's favourite smell.

Pushing the letter into his jacket pocket, he made his way to the elevator. The note feeling as though it was burning a hole in his pocket as he waited for the creaking contraption to raise him to his floor.

"Arthur." A voice rang out as he entered the apartment. Arthur sighing heavily as he peeled off his jacket.

"No mom. No mail. I'll be in in a minute." Arthur called back in reply as he made his way over to the kitchen and put on the kettle. Placing down the small brown bag of provisions on the counter.

It was always the same. Day in and day out. Work all day, then come back to the apartment and take care of his mom. But this was his life, and no matter how bad it was. It was all he had.

                                                          >>--------------------------------<<

Arthur quietly closed the door to the bedroom. Finally, his mother had gone to sleep. And now, what was left of the night belonged to him and his letter from (Y/n). Carefully he pulled the envelope from his jacket pocket, making sure not to crease or tear it. It was a ritual now, the same routine every week. He would come home from a terrible day at work having had to deal with Randall, over privileged kids that would stick their disgusting gum in his wig, and the low life's that seemed to inhabit every dark corner of the city. Just like the many rats that also call it home. He would go to the mailbox and retrieve (Y/n)'s letter. Hide it in his pocket, informing his mother that there had been no mail. Then he would make her, her dinner. They would watch some TV together, and then when she finally fell asleep, he would take his time and read (Y/n)'s latest news. It was his special time. The only time in the week where he felt happy. The only time in the week that he somehow felt truly cared for. Using a small knife from the cutlery draw, he meticulously sliced along the edge of the envelope. He had to keep it looking as neat as possible so that it could join the many others that he hid in a box out of the way, so that his mother couldn't find it. Arthur finding himself reading older ones when he couldn't sleep. The different stamps from the many different countries that she had been to. making his mind fill with wonder as he tried to imagine what she had seen while she was there.

True to her word, (Y/n) had indeed made something of herself. After college, she had found her way in the world quickly, being employed by the government. And then a few years later had got herself a position at the United Nations, working all over the world. Sometimes he would imagine being at all these wonderful places with her. About doing the same job she did. About them being more than mere pen pals. But Arthur had a feeling that he would never actually lay eyes on her ever again. And all that he would ever have were wonderful memories, letters, and the occasional picture that she would send him.

Making himself as comfortable as possible on the old sofa, Arthur pulled out the letter. The familiar smell bringing a smile to his lips as he settled back to read.

Hi Arthur,

Just me again. You know, the weird girl that you walked home all those years ago. Sometimes I wonder whether you get sick of me writing. Having to have to listen to me go on and on about things. But I am always grateful that you do. And I am always excited when I get your letters in return. They, as always, are the highlight of my week. It doesn't matter where I am, or what I am doing. Everything stops so that I can read your letter.

It was so nice to hear about you working at the hospital with all those sick kids. I can only imagine how wonderful it is to see the smiles on their faces. To know that you have been the one to put them there. You have a true talent, Arthur. And I am proud of you.

Oh, and I have some great news. Well, I hope that you will think that it's great, anyway. In two weeks' time, the prodigal daughter will be returning to Gotham. That's right, after all these years I will be coming home. Hard to believe, huh? All those years of planning how to escape, and now I'm happy to return. Even if only for a little while. I was hoping that, well, I was hoping that you would like to meet while I'm there? The conference is over a couple of days, but I will be in Gotham for at least a week. And I would really like it if we could get together. It feels like a lifetime since I saw you. You have never sent me a picture, and I would really like to see if that pretty little head of yours, was still as pretty as it was the last time I saw you. If you don't, or can't, that's ok. But, well, I hope you do.

Anyway. Write and let me know. As always, my pinkie promise stands, and I will write again next week.

Hope to see you soon.

(Y/n)

Arthur stared at the letter in disbelief. (Y/n) was coming home. Coming back to Gotham. She wanted to see him. Wanted them to meet up, to spend time together. Part of him was more excited than he ever thought possible. It was like a dream come true. To actually see her again. To have her there right in front of him. But the other part of him, well the other part of him was a little nervous. He wasn't quite as she would remember. And maybe, well, maybe, he might just have embellished a little here and there about his job. But to see (Y/n) again was too good an opportunity to pass up. And he was sure that she would understand. So, as he rummaged around for some paper and a pen, he couldn't help but hope that the next two weeks would pass quicker than any other.