a lil crispy preview of my piece for Cremation: A Dabi Zine! -> @bnhadabi-zine
Same. It helps me a lot during exams and when feeling especially down.
In the past 5 years of my life, from like, 28 to now 33 years old, I use the character I'm in love with as my 'imaginary friend' as it where.
I talk to them about my current struggles through my self hate/depression/fears throughout my waking hours. When I'm having a really bad day at work, I feel them standing or walking beside me, usually squeezing my hand.
I go to bed with them laying next to me, imagining them making sure I sleep and don't cry too much.
They give me encouragement throughout the day, like, 'You can do this.' 'I'm right here with you.' 'I know this hurts but it will pass.' 'You're beautiful to me.'
They tell me not to throw up my meals when the temptation is high, and to not think I'm fat and ugly as I fight back my eating disorder.
In the past it was Loki or Thor, and now it's Arthur Fleck.
He's right there with a smile and magic trick when I'm in tears, or a hug and gentle kiss when I'm feeling so disgusted with myself.
He calls me 'Sweetheart'
I just wondered if anyone else uses the characters they currently adore like this. đ
Perfectly timed! Was thinking about getting a new one and these are beautiful! đ
some heath phone backgrounds for u
like if u use!
[This was a special request by @eatsrawredonion / step step step step for our Secret Clanta event on Discord on the Certified Clowns Server. Inexperienced in writing fics, I still hope you like it and I wish you and everyone reading this merry Christmas and relaxing, joyful holidays!]
Summary: On your way home from work, you notice someone following you and things escalate a bit. But how can you stay mad at this person for too long?
[WARNING: Stalking, mention of assault]
(If I forgot a warning, please let me know!)
Deep at night absolutely everything seems like a threat, even if there should be streetlights which actually work, not counting in flickering ones, but ones that, indeed, work like they should and serve the exact same purpose they have been built for. (or what a scared shitless young person or a person of any other age with a healthy amount of survival will points). Unexpectedly you have had to work an hour longer and oh boy, do 60 minutes make a difference when it comes to daylight disappearing just as much as the overwork time in your paycheck. Whatever, you think, you coworkers had needed help - and despite being tired you wanted to help them as much as possible. Too many people visit the supermarket at such an unholy hour and even in the (or especially, as many customers dare to come in five minutes before we close). Unfortunately, none of you colleagues have been able to take me with them, since both of them - at least the ones who had to work today - do not own a car and you take different subways. I had to sigh, both of them worried something might happen but unable to help you out.
Gothamâs streets are - terrifying. You could have used any other word right now to take away from the fear but honestly, this is the most tame one to describe the horror you had to go through by walking around at this time, no one around, or, which would also be - uhm, terrifying - someone around, leaving your mind juggling about whether it was worse to not have anyone, a person, nearby, or people, people who might hurt you or kill you. God, you wished it would end up being your secret admirer. Grinning at this wishful thinking you continue, freezing off your ass which you would love to save from the cold as well as death. You have almost been assaulted already and although you would love to change your workplace to a closer alternative, it is not possible as no one is looking for a cashier at the moment. Of course, of course, it has been - hah, you almost said it again! - an unsettling experience, to say the least that is. Nothing has scared you so much ever. You just always know that something could happen - however, you never know when this âsomethingâ will strike, or for a better understanding, that someone. That someone, this night, were three someones, not running, just in their car, pulling up and that has been strange enough already, pulling up and getting slower as they approached you, asking for directions, directions in the middle of the night, directions in a one way street, directions when they stopped the car after telling them where to go because you were tired and just wanted them to leave you alone and then - you shudder, not only from this mere memory as you try not to pain yourself with it but also due to the cold air, making itself visible through little clouds, which you occasionally use to fake smoking a cigarette, a habit which you have taken over from your childhood to your young adulthood or, as you would like to describe yourself, older-child-not-really-grown-up-yet, 21 year old responsible kid-at-heart. You mean - no career so far, just saving up for college, an apartment not too far from home so you always could move back in should the rents rise up yet again, just as much as your blood pressure whenever you see yet another warning from your landlord to oh-so-please forgive him for raising is again or when you have to pass these goddamn streets once more.
All of a sudden, a sound reminiscent of shattering glass which now shatters even the last bit of carefreeness you thought youâve had makes its way into your whole body, paralyzed, eyes widened, heightened senses - well, the last part is a lie as you are not sure whether your senses are actually heightened or just more focused. Whatever it might be, itâs giving you some reassurance in your survival skills. Where has this noise just come from? You know you should run, your inner voice tells you so - but your body is apparently deaf to its own calls, probably also because you donât even know which direction you could escape into. Maybe it was just a bottle which fell from a garbage can, a full garbage can? This could calm you down if it werenât for the treacherous doubt crawling through your every cell like vermins, you recall the night you were attacked - what did they do? Almost unbearably loud, your fastening breath alongside your even faster heartbeat, panting, sweat, sweat, sweat, you think you can actually feel every single drop of sweat leaving your poor pores, your pore pores, your - and steps, now you can make them out, thrown into reality again, where you should be, where you donât want to be but where you are, right now, anyway, because if wishes could come true, you would have never ever left your workplace and you would not even have teleported yourself into your apartment but you would be working as a teacher already, young, freshly introduced to your first teenagers to teach and support or to seek support from by the school counselor, depending on who you have the luck or unluck to get paired with. Speeding across your surroundings your eyes, without any further thought, shoot into an alleyway. Only now you realize why they have taken your attention there for a sweet, sweet night out, oh, staying alive is so sweet - the footsteps, their home must be there, lying in the shadows almost next to you, hiding in anonymity like a webcam hacker. The steps have not stopped yet. However; they have stopped being urgent. Whoever is there, they are watching me right now, you think to yourself, moving a hand into your pocket, right now in this very moment. Gulping, it is impossible for you to move with shaking legs, pressed together in absolute horror.
Seconds pass in which you cannot make out any sound - whirling nightly breezes through the passages aka streets, whereas the buildings would just damp its whistling. Are they thinking about something, or -
Then they begin again, now with more confidence as it seems, confidence because - because of what? Your hand manages to grab ahold of a small pocketknife, not much but honest to work with, right? Even something personal, something with love you would protect yourself with, a gift given to you by your brother after he has been able to get himself a new one. Why are you occupying yourself with this right now? Normalcy, it dawns on you, normalcy - thatâs what your brain is attempting to provide you with right now. The steps are nearing, and coincidentally the person who they belong to probably as well. Sudden clearance in your head gives you a positive reassurance - that whoever it might be, they are alone. At least regarding this one direction and by that words a compilation of familiar songs barely scratch your inner workings though you successfully ban them into a secluded area inside of you where none of it would bother you.
Then you see the first shoe, then the next, then one leg and then two and it is getting more and more exciting, then the upper body follows, a kinda sunken statue, but with big eyes, glowing eyes, glowing eyes more glow-ey than these goddamn streetlights because even though the man standing there right in front of you (okay, alright, not right in front but, like, five meters away), his hands running over his shoulders as you can make out his nervosity, he raises one of them as a kind of greeting, a âhiâ almost as small as he obviously wants to appear in front of you and, as you know and damn him, as not to scare you, even if he is only a few little tiny itsy bitsy teenie weenie centimeters taller than you.
One of the greatest sighs mankind has ever experienced enters your mouth as you conclude you must have stopped breathing for a short amount of time, making this reveal even more breathtaking that you originally have thought at its beginning. And, oh boy, this is very much only the beginning. Your teeth grind against one another as you finally feel capable enough to let it out:âWhat are you doing here, Arthur?â
Your neighbor, and god forbid, he would be only a neighbor for the coming future for scaring you like this because he definitely deserves some kind of punishment for scaring you this much, after revealing your fear, what you have witnessed that time ago when you have been attacked and left in fear, because sometimes you would talk, because when you had just moved in and tried to be nice to everyone, but stopped being explicitly nice and regressed to simply being decent to a big part of Gotham, except for him because he has always been genuinely lovely and sweet, only sweet to you, awkward and nervous, yet you could understand, in some way, and you thought you could be friends, in some way. And he had taken care of your wounds, yes, good care, when after his 60-hour-week, after bringing his mother to bed, he has provided you with first-aid, then you had called the police, but he has been there. And, compelled to somehow make it up to him, his tired self having felt  the need to aid you, you agreed to accompany him to his workplaceâs Christmas party, where he has stick to you the entire time, and you have stick to him as well, because, well, you did not know anyone and you also did not really - like anyone, the way they made fun of Arthur, this sweet man, who had to be stuck with you, but nonetheless talked, talked, and nervously asked you if he could tell you some jokes, and he was so sweet and nice, like a good real friend, and he was just - there.
Just as much as he is here now, this sweet man, who you know and would love to call a friend, who you love as a friend, who you would - would not mind getting to know better with time, for no reason, or for a better understanding: You could actually think of a good reason. However; it would be worth more if he told you himself instead of keeping you guessing.
Arthur now caresses his neck, sliding around, curls his hair a bit, looking down; only to swift up immediately, as if he just has realized that you expect an answer from him. He begins to smile, although the bewilderment in his eyes is already a given, always a part of him - unthinkable for him to be without and, sounding more romantic than it is, as inseparable than the moon and stars or this city and high crime rate. Almost sucking his words back in, Arthur eventually gathers the strength to form a reply, now his gaze upon you, although you swear you can see it moving around your face in the shadows as he has still not been able to raise his own:âI was accompanying you.â
Thatâs it? Goosebumps bump up on your body, one of your friendâs legs begins to tap on the ground, tap, tap, tap, and if anyone would now look out of their window, they would either think it is another drug deal going on or a friendly, friendly conversation between two strangers, friends, neighbors or whatever or thatâs what they would love to tell themselves, while scared and/or ignorantly ignoring how this could also be some kind of assault, yeah, best not to get involved.
Tap, tap, tap, tap. You feel like snapping, you really do. You have always known him as - weird, but charming, kinda cute in his lack of understanding of social life, his apparent unawareness and disknowledge or, as that is not a real world, inexperience in knowledge. You cannot even think of anything logical as it escapes you, not screaming but very much obviously tense:âYou were what?â
Silence for a minute; Arthurâs lip becomes shaky, and you can make up tears crawling up his eyes as much as more and more shudders from your side. Accompanying you? What was he thinking? You have no idea how to respond, so instead you wait and hope - and hope for a little bit more input, a little push to send his explanation into logic oblivion - but to no avail. âI wanted to make sure you are alright, Y/N,â, he begins, now the vibrations taking over his voice as if they were contagious, from legs to lips to voice to brain, brain, brain - oh, yeah, his brain. it does not make much sense right now, this is - a weird thing to do, he cannot think clearly right now, you are sure of that, he is scared and nervous and has no fucking idea of what to do and what to say. Question now is: If he has done it tonight, how many times before has he done it? Without you realizing? Absurd yet disturbed you let your pocketknife fall. Okay, letâs get this straight - he was trying to protect you? âIâve heard - people do that if they like someone,â, his voice cracks at the sequel of his explanation. Now thatâs - thatâs just⌠ridiculous, heartbeat going crazy, sweat set free as if it were a feral beast released into the wild, caged inside your bone marrow bars, behind bars, caging your heart in, but now out, in, now out, in, now out, your rage begins to take over - youâve been scared shitless, you have feared you life. But instead it has just been - just been unknowing Arthur. You cannot relax, no way.âWhy would you do that? Has no one ever told you?â, raising your voice, but not enough for your anger to shine through, bringing some light to him to have a better sight at your true emotions.âHave your parents never taught you anything?â Instant regret begins to flood you and especially your eyes, on the verge of crying. He has not scared the shit out of you, no, not only that - he has managed to take it as his own to now talk it. And now you just regret these thoughts as well - as he does not deserve it, not completely. Youâve just been so scared, so incredibly scared and the memories were almost breaking through, you could feel them tickling your throat, making you want to throw up - but as soon as your thoughts have the chance to let them seep through the cracks of distress anyway, you begin to focus on what is in front of you, who is in front of you. Narrowed eyebrows, eyes reflecting every bit of light as of how much they are filled with tears now, only a matter of time until they fall down his face, him getting uncomfortably close (well, yeah, closer, not close - closer, armlength that is), his not-too-tall-shape hovering over you in the extend which is possible.âWhy are you saying this?â
You move a bit backwards, but Arthur doesnât seem to want to let go - and it almost feels like as if he were trying to make the pressure on you not only emotional in nature but also physical.
âArthur, Iâm so, so, sorry. I was just.,â, you bring out, actually never having witnessed so much guilt taking over you, your posture narrowing down closer to the ground, crouching a tiny, tiny bit - not standing but crouching. Arthurâs attempts are less than soothing; her shakes now, leaning forward with his upper body, closer to your face than before, and for the blink of an eye youâve had thought of reassuringly telling him that you are sorry, that what he was doing was creepy but that you - appreciate his concern and that he could have asked you, just - asked you. Although you would have said no in every single way possible to the human species, as you would not want his working hours to expand to 24/7, but now his frame is dangerously close, you still try to walk backwards, raising you hands in defense should he try something. Sweet, sweet Arthur. Oh god. You would never have expected any of this - to happen, for him to be like this. You have known about his issues but not to how deep they go - nothing too personal, as he has never invited you to his home, and you have found his innocent unawareness, his sweet consideration, his adorable humor more than just friendly-charming, but charming in another, never-expected way, not before, not ever in your young life. And now you doubt everything that you think you have felt - that you two were heading to friendship town, and maybe, your inner self blushing madly while hiding its face, more, like best friends or this other kind of friends, this lovely kind, this lovey kind, one of a kind -
âI was just trying -,â, you hear his throat being soar, just as you notice bruises on his neck, exposed from his sweater, his special sweater as it is a Christmas sweater, an âembarrassingâ one, warm and fuzzy and angelic -
âTo make sure you are safe! I want you to be safe!â His veins pop out by how much overtaken he is by anger, on his bruised neck, hurt neck, where he has been hurt somewhere, hurt, hurt by someone, how dare they, he doesnât deserve this, this is just his outlet now, he does not deserve this treatment, even if he is scaring the hell out of you right now, he does not -
Safe. Safe. I do not feel safe right now, Arthur, not with you, not safe, you can only produce these thoughts as he coughs for a few seconds, unable to walk away, not - wanting to go away because a baby, a fetus, an embryo part of you still wants to believe he is this nice guy from the same damn building, the one you have learned to appreciate. Oh, wow, finally they leave you the fuck alone and go on their merry way, your tears, running down your cheeks, your heated cheeks in this heated - argument? - which has made you totally forget about the freezing cold air without any source of warming light. And he cannot even get any closer, just half a meter away, cramping hands,âThatâs what people do when they care, donât they? Thatâs people do!â Care? He cares, he cares - does that mean you could try to get through him? He obviously has had a rough day, or, as far as you are concerned now, a very bad week and month and, even worse as the fears makes your nerves tingle on your ribcage like a xylophone, life, at least a big part of it. With you eyes widened in shock you canât help but pay attention to the details - which would be that now, as he is having this breakdown, bites his lip, a fire suddenly igniting in his face, heâs drawing blood, oh god, Arthur, you are sorry, so, so, so sorry, you -
Taken aback by the sudden hit as well as the unexpected cold freezing shiver going through your heated cheek you gasp, your hand covering your mouth. Eyes drifting towards the ground, widened in shock, Arthur does the same, just that he, as very much apparent, now tries to stifle his wallowing up laughter, painfully obviously crying while doing so, managing to bring out a desperate âIâm-,â, gulping violently, you still unable to process what just had happened but even more so, what you are exactly feeling about it,â, so, so sorry. I -,â, another gulp, a final one as it seems, he trembles for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You are not even sure who has felt more pain - him or you. Another feeling makes its way into your mind and from there on, begins to infest your every fiber of being, unaccustomed to it, yet - strangely exciting, strangely something you would never have seen coming ever in your life, nothing you would have talked to anyone about - not even your fictional friends in your fictional world where you feel like you can tell them absolutely everything, and even beyond. âArthur, you,â, you try to break through the uncomfortable tension, attempting to bring on a new kind of tension,â, donât have to - to apologize. I want you -,â, collecting yourself, absolutely bewildered by what you are now about to say,â, to do it again.â
This has been the wrong answer apparently, because he is sent into a mini laughing fit, no, fight (some letters were missing that fit just so much better considering his condition), coughing in a torturing way, not able to look into your eyes as raises his head to your almost-identical height. Oh god, what did you just say? Oh god, oh my fucking god. Not yet, you think, I donât even know him, we need to get to know each other better first, not yet. Wait - why are you thinking ânot yetâ so many damn times? Oh no. Oh no. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. So - so no. Adorable, friendly Arthur. Adorable, sweet, cute, terrifying, like the streets of Gotham at night, and if people at least once would try to get to know him as him and neither sorely his condition nor his occupation, as helpless and as much as a victim as you were when you were attacked, as helpful and lovely as only few of can compare to in your experience, they would realize that he deserves so many beautiful things, that , and you are sure you want to help with those things, help him with many things, just - help him. You collect your thoughts, everything has been chaotic these past few minutes. And all of this anger inside of him - is hopefully out now. âI am so sorry for what I have said, Arthur, Iâm just -,â, your sleeve being pulled over your face to dry it from the tears,âI was scared, you came out of nowhere. Please donât do that again, thatâs just - spooky.â You begin to smile reassuringly, yet obviously still emotionally drained. but Arthur turns his head to the sides, scratches it (oh, thatâs him being nervous!), feet tapping on the ground, he cannot even look at you, mumbling a heartbreaking âsorry, I will not bother you againâ and makes his way into - well, the exact same direction you would have entered into anyway, so you quickly call his name (not too loud, obviously, as no one would want to be woken up, not even considering these unholy hours, but in general - just who on earth would like to be woken up late at night be a Disney movie ending, with both friends and foes falling into each otherâs arms, forgiving each other, as comrades), and he turns around with his hair flowing majestically, floofly, your frozen ice cream legs easily catch up to everyone waiting, which now sounds as if there were more than one person, but it is just one, just that his - impact is one of a kind, an impact so strong it could have been more than one person, thatâs - thatâs just strong his impression is, one person whose name is Arthur Fleck, the one who youâd love to be a friend of, and maybe more, maybe - maybe, considering your more-than-revealing feelings today, but for that youâd like to get to know him even better, not just occasionally.
âI - Iâm sorry for what I said, Arthur, I was not feeling good and I should not have let it out on you,â, your apology is sincere, shaky voice, still a little bit distraught but now a happy smile creeps onto your mouth, creeping on you like Arthur, but lovely, welcoming, not stalking, not - stalking your face. Your friend (?)/neighbor (?) looks utterly surprised, everything open in shock, eyes and face, his ears most likely too, as he seems to have understood.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tapping leg. Tap, tap, talk, talk. He holds his mouth closed for yet another time, most likely out of fear it will happen the exact same way it just burst out of him. But oh, no, this side of him - terrified you (hah, terrify!).
âIâm so sorry, Â Y/N,â, he then says and you swear, you have never in your life seen to much pain, pain from everything around you, in someoneâs eyes alone,â,I will leave you alone now, I am sorry, Iâm sorryâ. It is dangerous to your mood talking to him, you think. Heâs bringing you so much pain.
âDonât be sorry. It was - weird and⌠and creepy, but,â, you now walk up to him, smiling at him with the full intent to make him feel better and to show him that everything is alright now,â,you have apologized and wonât do it again, right?â
Arthur looks to the ground for a few seconds, his gaze wanders to you, who is patiently waiting by his side; he nods, slowly. âI mean - since we are already here, how about we walk home together?â
Arthur smiles, no - completely shines at you, with his whole being, his inside joy being so intense at this thought that you would bet your shitty apartment on this that the world around both of you actually just got a little brighter as he heard you say that. You point towards him, grinning, as both of you had just stood there motionless, no one had started to finally, finally head to both your homes. Arthur, weird but - adorable, annoyingly, interestingly adorable Arthur leads you on to a journey both of you would never forget. One last thing, you think, one last thing about this incident tonight, tonight, after this, I do not want to talk about this again, maybe some other time.
âThank you for walking me home. Can you ask me next time? Iâd feel much - safer with you around. Being alone here sucks.â Arthur smiles, apparently covering a part of his face to hide something - his stifled laughter? His excited eyebrows being raised? His blush? It doesnât matter, both of you appear so much more relaxed now that none of you are alone anymore. He then looks at you, grazing his neck ever-so-slightly yet again. âWell, I had planned that from the start. Just good that I donât have to - donât have to walk in these dark streets anymore. You canât believe how many times I have stumbled.â He laughs, and although that was a crude attempt at a joke, you cannot help but grin bashful, the heat in your face rising, warming you up, being with him warming you up, hoping he would also warm you up with his self, his jokes, in the future.Then you remember something, something extremely important, of the highest caliber of importance which you will, from now on, never overlook, and pay attention to. âArthur, by the way, let me help you with this injury on your neck once we arrive,â, just having remembered it, you hope to be able to help him, to give back to him what he has given you already - support, aid in times of need. âIâm pretty sure you have no more band-aids at your apartment, at least your supply was empty after, you know -,â, abruptly stopping, you wink in understanding. He looks seriously worried for a second, seriously, but apparently you worrying about him as well fills him with something else, as he has to look away, again covering his face for a split second. You wouldnât even be able to see his blush in the dim light (that is if your assumption is true, hah!), but you would like to someday, maybe, possibly, if he allows it, if you allow it (your nervous self, god, are you nervous right now!), if you both get to learn more about each other and get along good enough. Well, today seems to have been a promising sign. And you canât deny it but your hopes? They are up.
goddamMIT
YOU ARE FUELING MY THIRST HOO MAMA đŤâ¤
Ledger!Joker x JP!Joker headcanons đ ??
(Edit isnât mine, made by Anarchy Graphics! They have really cool edits you should check them out!)
(A/n): đ HEY THERE DEAR ANON! Your wish is my command ;)) sorry I kinda added some smut hope thatâs okie! HEHEH also @pennyshipâ and I are writing a massive fucking one-shot about the duo! Weâre thinking of turning this into a series if anyoneâs interested?
Pairing: JP! Joker x reader x Heath!Joker
Warnings: NSFW, BDSM themes, swearing.
////
Together
Okay first things first, they will have a hard time âsharingâ you. Theyâre both really assertive characters and their personalities would for sure clash.Â
Theyâre very competitive.Â
Whatâs probably even weirder is how they resolve their arguments. If you expect them to sit down and shake it out b o i youâre dead wrong.
Honestly, if you catch them in the middle of doing some stupid shit, donât be surprised.
More often than not, you feel like the mediator between them. You kind of keep them balanced â stop them from going overboard, though admittedly, itâs rare when they reach such a point.Â
Their unspoken contest keeps them on their toes and thatâs just how they like it. Â
They also really appreciate how you spare them the psychoanalysis â they get enough of it when theyâre thrown into Arkham and treated like odd spectacles.Â
Theyâre really possessive/protective. If someone even so much as thinks of threatening you, or, even more idiotic, makes it known they ARE, best believe theyâre bringing out the big guns. Theyâll rain hellfire upon them. This is perhaps the only time where the dynamic duo can work together.Â
NSFW
A lot of the times they take their frustration out in other activities. If something doesnât go as âplanned,â youâre gonna have a hard time walking tomorrow. Â
(Coming back to their ârivalryâ), theyâll leave hickeys on your neck â VISIBLE ONES MIGHT I ADD â just so the other can see. This often leads to more hickeys from the other.Â
Threesomes. Sorry, not sorry. (Will go into detail in an upcoming fic hehe).Â
Joaquin Phoenixâs Joker
This. Man. Is. Touch-starved.Â
You heard me, folks. He loves touching you. This isnât exclusive to sex either, honestly, heâs happy with even the smallest displays of affection.Â
Heâs also much kinder than Heathâs Joker AND WHAT I MEAN BY THAT is that heâs more open with his affections (see Heathâs section for deetz).Â
Loves loves loves your smile and your laugh! Every time he snatches a laugh roused by one of his puns or jokes, heâs ecstatic! âYou should laugh more,â âyou have a pretty smile.â His compliments arenât always worded the greatest, but you know he means well, his sincerity shining through.Â
Coupled with the soft smile which almost always follows your joy, itâs enough on its own to convey his thoughts.Â
The man is incredibly playful and is a relentless flirt. He doesnât CARE whoâs around, he will make it known what nasty things heâs thinking about AND what nasty things he wants to do to you. If it wasnât for your own protests which are occasionally worn down, heâd take you in front of others. He literally does not care.
Example: when you least expect it, youâll feel a firm slap against your ass, or sometimes less overt, a grab. It doesnât take a genius to figure out who it is.Â
To reiterate, he absolutely has no shame.Â
Arthur is big on aftercare. Heâll make sure you know how much he loves you. He gets really attached, and his actions communicate this more than his words. Aftercare manifests itself in many forms: cuddling, bubble baths, making sure he hasnât harmed you in any way, offering sweets.
Nicknames
âAngel.â
âDarling.â
âDoll.â (Heathâs Joker also uses this).Â
âSugar.â He often uses this when heâs mad, for example, âokay, listen, sugar.â
âSweetheart.â
NSFW
Depending on how Arthurâs feeling, funky time can either be really rough or, if heâs feeling a lil extra sentimental, very you-oriented.Â
Heâs a passionate man and seeing how his touch leads to your unravelling is truly one of the highlights for him.Â
Above all, Arthurâs favourite thing is hearing the way his name spills from your lips â feeling the way you cling onto him as he plunges into you. Your expression of euphoriaâs something thatâs etched into his brain, like fine glass. Â
An added bonus for him is thinking about how antsy your loud moans make Heathâs Joker.Â
Gunplay â Arthurâs slender fingers indent your thighs as he spreads them apart, a sudden metallic chill brushing up against the flesh. Prodding at your entrance with the barrel and slowly pushing in, his slow teasing thrusts morph into a steady pace when youâre practically pleading him to let you cum.Â
Orgasm Denial â Arthur, being the mischievous boi he is, will damn well make sure he drags everything out. He loves to hear you beg, every time you do it fills him with swirling bursts of pride.Â
Body worship â sort of ties in with orgasm denial. Arthur will take his sweet ass time caressing your skin, planting kisses against your stomach â against your hips. Honestly anywhere he has access to he will make it known how much he appreciates your body. This can sometimes appear during sex â heâll slow his pace and utter sweet whispers of praise against you, rendering you even more of a flustered mess.
Hair pulling â works both ways. This would mainly be exhibited during oral than anything else. If heâs going down on you and your trembling fingers jerk his green curls, the vibrations of his moans would tip you over the edge.Â
Heâs more flexible than Heathâs Joker, meaning if you want to top, heâll let you do so, though he still maintains a cocky air. Giving you one of his killer smirks, his eyebrows flicking in amusement, heâll relinquish his hold on your hips and recline back into the couch. The way he leans back and places his hands behind his head screams âgo ahead,â âimpress me.â You always do.
Heath Ledgerâs Joker
Will do shit just to spite Arthur; this isnât because he has a personal vendetta against him, itâs just because of the person he is (a little shit).
Takes a bit longer to open up than Arthur, emotionally. Heâs very closed off and is used to his little bubble. It takes patience but eventually youâll get there.
Acts like the biggest hardass â he likes to portray thereâs nothing more to his image other than the âagent of chaos,â but you come to realise this is definitely not the case.Â
In the dead of night, when he returns from whatever havoc heâs stirred, he crawls into your bed and pulls you against him, arms embracing you loosely.
This is when heâs at his most affectionate. His exhaustion most likely adds to those falling walls.Â
Most of the time he thinks youâre asleep when this occurs but, spoiler, youâre not; the gentle upturn of your lips the only indication of such. You donât think youâd ever give the fact away either, fearful of him receding back into his shell to the point where affection is null. Either way, youâre happy with him.
By the morning, heâs gone, already making plans (or executing them).
He seldom shows you his actual face, behind all the makeup. In all honesty, you donât know the reasoning behind this, and you donât think you ever will. While heâs blunt, heâs just as secretive; thereâs always something going on in the back of his mind.Â
Perhaps itâs insecurity, discomfort, or, more simply, the âpersonaâ of âJokerâ is just what resonates with him. The man underneath is someone he no longer identifies with. The man heâs become â who heâs worked so hard to manifest â is his true self.Â
NSFW
Okay but heâs a very sexual guy, not even gonna lie.
ALSO HAS NO EMBARRASSMENT. When it comes to sex, this manâs just as open about it as Arthur.Â
Hair pulling kink â this goes without saying. Unlike Arthur, this kink is one-sided, and he most definitely is the one doing the pulling. Those large hands will lose themselves within your strands and if youâre giving him head, heâs most likely going to guide you by said strands.Â
Glove kink â heâll set you on his lap, your back against his chest as his hands hold your wriggling thighs. With your breath hitching in anticipation, one of his gloved hands will slip down your inner thigh, rubbing slow circles against your clit. He tries his best to be patient but lets be honest, he has a really short fuse when it comes to sex; heâll be dipping one â two â and if heâs feeling particularly torturous â three fingers inside of you before you know it, curling his fingers.
Praise kink â not particularly what youâd expect. Heâs also very big into humiliation and mockery, so this kind of ties in with the two. For example, if you do something heâs pleased with, heâll throw around teasing/sarcastic nicknames like thereâs no tomorrow:
âBunny.â
âButtercup.âÂ
âButton.â
âDoll.â Â
âGood girl.â
âPrincess.âÂ
âPumpkin.âÂ
âSweetheart.â
Loves your brattiness, literally lives for it. Heâs always been drawn to a bit of fire â it keeps things interesting.Â
Has a thing for emotions â for your expressions, both micro and macro. The main three: fear, pain, pleasure.Â
Heâs very erratic. So, when he is praising you, he may tug at your hair the next, choke you or, if he deems necessary, spank you.Â
Your squeaks of pain get him off â the motherfuckerâs sadistic.
Goes through topdrop, and youâd most certain go through subdrop. Heâs so used to control and regaining it when lost, in both an everyday context and a sexual one. So, once those feelings develop into something more (which youâll have trouble differentiating, or sometimes picking up on at all), heâll become more reserved, no longer displaying his usual vigour until this issue is sorted. (More details in a future drabble/fic).Â
During this scene I began to cry and I'm kinda glad the cinema was dark so no one had to see me weeping... it was just sooo heartbreaking oh my god
I just want to hold him, please đđ¤§
This I second and third!
I have a headcannon that this Joker doesnt tolerate women or children being harrassed or abused. Anyone being harrassed for that matter.
If Joker saw a man telling a woman to acknowledge him, or to smile at him, Joker would warn the man to back the fuck off. If the man didn't, Joker casually shoots the guy.
If any blood gets on the girl, he'd offer his handkerchief to her.
If Joker sees a trans person being beaten, he doesn't even bother to threaten. He shoots the assailants without question.
Anyways, I just really love this idea of Joker being a vigilante of justice against sexual harrassment of any kind. đđđ
https://discord.gg/ceKMcGÂ all we have, are bruh moments.
@beedingtears @lovesickkloxx @idont-mind @theawkwardarchaeopteryx @mrimajokerâ @pinksprouty144â @jokerrangâ
When you don't learn for a test but barely pass with 0.5 points difference
even if I were, I'd not be responsible for your misfortune/ the others might be tho | memes and personal stuff | 21 y/o
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