The Joker - Blog Posts

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Articolo dedicato alle collezioni di Essence e Catrice con protagonisti Harley Quinn e Joker.

💚💙 ESSENCE & CATRICE COLLEZIONE TRUCCO JOKER E HARLEY QUINN 💚💙

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💚💙 ESSENCE & CATRICE COLLEZIONE TRUCCO JOKER E HARLEY QUINN 💚💙

ESSENCE & CATRICE COLLEZIONE TRUCCO JOKER E HARLEY QUINN Joker e Harley Quinn sono i villain protagonisti della nuova collezione trucco Esse

My batman and joker design :33

apparently the cops arrested fuckin Bicycles Georg today

no context.

The Joker 🃏

Joker's appearance has been about as malleable as the storylines he comes with so I wanted to try my hand at giving my own spin to him!

What you see here is sort of a mix between goofy '60s Joker and the horse arsonist nightmare that his character eventually spiralled into, oh, and with obvious Phoenix Joker flair because banger makeup.

“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?” the Joker says, quiet. When Bruce doesn’t answer he starts to laugh. He laughs so hard and so long that it becomes the only sound that Bruce can hear. He laughs so hard that he has to spit out blood before he speaks next. “You’re actually going to kill me. Aren’t you Batsy?” he grins.

They both know the answer but Bruce says it anyway. For the finality of it.

“Yes.”

It’s an ending.

~

Jason’s death is where it starts.

Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe it starts in a circus where two dead bodies lie broken on the floor and their son breaks in a very different way above them. Maybe it starts when a man decides that to take justice into his own hands is the only means by which his city will survive. Maybe it starts with a different set of dead bodies in an alleyway a lifetime ago.

Maybe it started when the first brick of the city that would become Gotham was laid.

But Jason’s death was certainly a beginning. Not of anything good, of course, but a beginning none the less.

~

Dick doesn’t talk to him anymore.

It hurts Bruce. Touches him in a way that few things since his parents death have. It opens him up to a loneliness he had thought was in his past.

He might have done something about it if everytime he looked at Dick he didn’t see a waking corpse. If Bruce hadn’t watched from the sidelines as his son morphed into a reminder of all the ways the universe is yet to use to make him suffer.

Dick doesn’t talk to him anymore and Bruce lets him.

~

Tim keeps popping up. Trying to convince him that he’s going to cross a line. It seems like he can’t quite comprehend the fact that Bruce doesn’t care anymore.

“Go home.” He says. Tim’s energetic and untrained and very much neither of Bruce’s sons. Bruce is grateful for the way his eyes shine with enthusiasm since it helps him remember that the boy he’s talking to is alive.

Tim smiles as he says no.

“Go home.” Bruce insists and Tim continues to refuse.

The way he sees Tim all the time, the way the boy makes it his business to keep Batman company, feels like the middle of a story. Bruce knows it in his bones. That something was the beginning (Jason’s death or two bodies on the ground or the grate of bricks on bricks on bricks) and this is the middle. He also knows that there’s going to be an ending far too soon.

“People don’t finish growing up and stay near me.” He tells Tim, trying to get him to go away with different words this time. “Your endings are leave me alone or die.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Says who? You and your grand sample size of two?”

“Go home.” He repeats, returning to his default response.

“No”. Tim repeats. He sounds like he’s enjoying this.

Bruce despises the fact that it only makes him like the boy more.

~

There’s an Arkham escape. The Joker gets out. He’s currently killing people.

None of these facts are surprising.

Bruce fights him and takes him down after he’s only ruined a couple of lives. It’s still far too many but it’s also far fewer people than he would have destroyed without Bruce there to stop him.

On the other hand he wouldn’t even exist if Bruce hadn’t made him. So people are dead and it’s still the Batman’s fault.

Afterwards Bruce watches as the Joker is taken in from a rooftop. He doesn’t even notice Tim sidle up beside him. He takes a moment to be annoyed at how proud he is of the boy for being so good.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks, because he knows how seeing the Jokers smile cuts into Bruce like few other things can.

“I’m fine.” Bruce says. It’s sort of the truth. Pain like this has become routine for him since Jason died. It’s just a byproduct of his existence. It’s just the price of his failure.

He looks over the crime scene, taking in the blood and the bodies and the relatives crying just like he did over his boy. He takes in the Joker as he’s tied back into his straight jacket. As he’s looking, the Joker tilts his head up. Bruce knows that the man is searching him out.

Instead of leaving or moving or doing anything useful, he freezes.

The Joker’s gaze alights on him. Pausing in its scan of the roofline. Then his eyes move a little down and to the left and Bruce feels Tim take a step back as he meets the Joker’s eyes.

Bruce is no longer fine.

He unfreezes and takes Tim in his arms, swinging them as far away from the scene of the crime as he can. He hears the Joker’s laughter behind them, starting out quiet but growing loud enough that Bruce doubts he’ll ever be able to outrun it.

“It’s fine.” Tim says from where he’s held tight in Bruce’s arms. “Bruce, I’ll be fine. He doesn’t even know who I am. I’ll be fine.”

He sounds scared and hopeful and absolutely certain that nothing will be able to hurt him while he’s under the Batman’s protection.

Bruce doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he’s wrong.

~

The body of Tim Drake is buried two weeks later.

Bruce spends the whole funeral thinking about how this is going to keep happening. About how children are going to keep finding him and squirming their way into his heart until he can’t bear to push them away any longer.

He realises that he can’t take a third tragedy of this magnitude. And if he can’t take it then Gotham certainly can’t. Batman is the only thing propping the city up as it attempts to crush itself under the weight of its cruelty.

Bruce makes a decision. As he does so he realises that they’re almost at the finish line.

~

There’s an Arkham escape. The Joker gets out. He’s currently killing people.

The relief Bruce feels when he hears what’s happening is extraordinary.

“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?” The Joker says once Bruce arrives and they look each other in the eye. He laughs hard enough to gently choke on his own blood. The wheezing sounds like victory. “You’re actually gonna kill me. Aren’t you Batsy?”

Bruce shoots his grapple gun through the Joker’s chest. It punches right through him, filling the room with an awful cracking squelching noise, and lodges in the wall. The sound the Joker makes as his throat fills with blood is more of a gurgle than a wheeze now.

“Yes.” Bruce replies.

It’s the ending.

Where is my fucking clown man, I'm still waiting

sometimes a clown is in your house. sometimes not. depends.

IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL THAT HE WON 😭💕💕

WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU JOAQUIN CONGRATULATIONS 😭❤

Rude. Stop calling me out.

 a heath ledger joker + icons  🤡🃏🎭 

♡  ➝  l i k e    o r      r e b l o g     i f    y o u    s a v e 

Secret Clanta

[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.

Gotham’s 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 ‘something’ 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 you’ve 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, it’s 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 don’t 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 weren’t 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 don’t 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 - that’s 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 “hi” 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:”What are you doing here, Arthur?”

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 workplace’s 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:”I was accompanying you.”

That’s it? Goosebumps bump up on your body, one of your friend’s 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 that’s 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:”You were what?”

Silence for a minute; Arthur’s 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. “I wanted to make sure you are alright, Y/N,”, 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, let’s get this straight - he was trying to protect you? “I’ve heard - people do that if they like someone,”, his voice cracks at the sequel of his explanation. Now that’s - that’s 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 - you’ve been scared shitless, you have feared you life. But instead it has just been - just been unknowing Arthur. You cannot relax, no way.”Why would you do that? Has no one ever told you?”, 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.”Have your parents never taught you anything?” 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. You’ve 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.”Why are you saying this?”

You move a bit backwards, but Arthur doesn’t 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.

“Arthur, I’m so, so, sorry. I was just.,”, 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. Arthur’s 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 you‘ve 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 -

“I was just trying -,”, 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 “embarrassing” one, warm and fuzzy and angelic -

“To make sure you are safe! I want you to be safe!” 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 doesn’t 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,”That’s what people do when they care, don’t they? That’s people do!” 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 can’t 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, he’s 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 “I’m-,”, gulping violently, you still unable to process what just had happened but even more so, what you are exactly feeling about it,”, so, so sorry. I -,”, 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. “Arthur, you,”, you try to break through the uncomfortable tension, attempting to bring on a new kind of tension,”, don’t have to - to apologize. I want you -,”, collecting yourself, absolutely bewildered by what you are now about to say,”, to do it again.”

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 don’t even know him, we need to get to know each other better first, not yet. Wait - why are you thinking “not yet” 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. “I am so sorry for what I have said, Arthur, I’m just -,”, your sleeve being pulled over your face to dry it from the tears,”I was scared, you came out of nowhere. Please don’t do that again, that’s just - spooky.” You begin to smile reassuringly, yet obviously still emotionally drained. but Arthur turns his head to the sides, scratches it (oh, that’s him being nervous!), feet tapping on the ground, he cannot even look at you, mumbling a heartbreaking “sorry, I will not bother you again” 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 other’s 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, that’s - that’s just strong his impression is, one person whose name is Arthur Fleck, the one who you’d love to be a friend of, and maybe more, maybe - maybe, considering your more-than-revealing feelings today, but for that you’d like to get to know him even better, not just occasionally.

“I - I’m sorry for what I said, Arthur, I was not feeling good and I should not have let it out on you,”, 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!).

“I’m so sorry,  Y/N,”, he then says and you swear, you have never in your life seen to much pain, pain from everything around you, in someone’s eyes alone,”,I will leave you alone now, I am sorry, I’m sorry”. It is dangerous to your mood talking to him, you think. He’s bringing you so much pain.

“Don’t be sorry. It was - weird and… and creepy, but,”, 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,”,you have apologized and won’t do it again, right?”

Arthur looks to the ground for a few seconds, his gaze wanders to you, who is patiently waiting by his side; he nods, slowly. “I mean - since we are already here, how about we walk home together?”

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.

“Thank you for walking me home. Can you ask me next time? I’d feel much - safer with you around. Being alone here sucks.” Arthur smiles, apparently covering a part of his face to hide something - his stifled laughter? His excited eyebrows being raised? His blush? It doesn’t 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. “Well, I had planned that from the start. Just good that I don’t have to - don’t have to walk in these dark streets anymore. You can’t believe how many times I have stumbled.” 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. “Arthur, by the way, let me help you with this injury on your neck once we arrive,”, 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. “I’m pretty sure you have no more band-aids at your apartment, at least your supply was empty after, you know -,”, 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 wouldn’t 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 can’t deny it but your hopes? They are up.

Eating You Out~ Ledger Joker x Reader NSFW

💚💚💚

For the parts where I am writing them together, Ledger’s Joker I will write as L!Joker and Phoenix’s will be P!Joker.

For single headcannons/imagines, they will just be known as Joker and the title will say which one.

Warnings: Smut, reader receiving oral, dirty talk, praise

Request by @ohsluttershy: “your ledger joker is just too good, you got anything for L!Joker eating you out? i need that shit for science”

Sure thing darling. Since this is a simple request, the headcannons will be a little shorter! I hope they are still good for you!

Keep reading

His shit eating grin makes it even 1000 times better because he looks like he knows we'll love him anyway 👀

It’s the joker except he’s a THOT

I love this 🥺❤❤

THIS IS THE ANIMATION WE NEEDED

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH 😫💕💕💕

Bro if he looked at me like THAT

Instant internal death 😭💗

You are trapped in an elevator with the person on your lockscreen. Who is it?

Reblog with who you get stuck with~

Couldn't agree more. I just - can't see Joaquin!Joker having a romantic interest? And even less a Harley Quinn?

I've been thinking if there's a second part of Joker movie ... I don't want to watch him having sex with anyone or in a romantic relationship ...

And definitely not with Margot Robbie, I'm sorry but this actress isn't at the level of performance of Joaquin Phoenix ....

Actresses with his acting level could be Natalie Portman, Kate Winslet, Reneé Zelwever, Charlize Theron ... I don't think any of these actresses wants to perform Harley quinn's rol ...

Besides, Joker doesn't seem like a movie that should be have romantic moments, at least Joaquin Phoenix's Joker.

Anyway sadly, is not up to me to make decisions about the movie. But that's how I feel about it.

Perfectly timed! Was thinking about getting a new one and these are beautiful! 💕

some heath phone backgrounds for u

like if u use!

I don't trust any of these yet my heart still goes wild whenever I hear/see something about it 🥺😭💗

Real , dreaming or some kind of cruel joke?😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😭😭😭💔

Lovely 💕

Christmas Joker icons for you all

If you use/save, please like/reblog

enjoy ~

I want this as a neon sign in my room ❤❤

Knock. Knock. 

I love everything about this

Oh my God 💕💕

The first pic tho 😭😭

Joker would 10000 % eat you out on your period and I don't take criticism on that you can't change my mind

@arthur-fleck-is-my-baby @arthurfleckjoker2019 @mijachula @honking4joker @redballoonfloatingupsohigh666

My day has been saved and my skin is clear and my hair no longer defies my will

This is too damn beautiful 👀❤💕

A genderswap of Heath Ledger’s joker! These are pretty fun to draw.... it’s big tiddy joker gf

👀👀❤

Oooo Arthur/joker alphabet please!

a/n: ask and you shall receive :)

warnings: smut, obviously, and adult themes/content. Also it’s a lot of work to do both so I’ll be doing joker :) and let’s hope my irl friends who follow me on here don’t see this akznanzba

Keep reading

This

THIS MUST BE ONE OF MY FAVOURITE FANART PIECES

art credit: sh291kuzu @ twitter

Me with Arthur Fleck/Joker right now 🥺💓

Reblog if you go to fictional characters for comfort.

Whether it be when you feel you don’t belong, when you feel upset, when you’re angry, when you’re going through a hard time or when you’re feeling empty. (Social Experiment: I want to see how many people do this)

You can't tell me these aren't canon

NSFW Arthur Fleck/Joker Headcannons 🥰🤡🥵

he only has one testicle, he shot the other one off by accident. (i hear they’re taking auditions for the role of Joker’s remaining testicle in the sequel.)

he definitely has a cumsock, with all those nasty cut outs from porn magazines you can’t tell me otherwise.

speaking of the porn magazines, the reason why his family is so poor is because he spends all the money on his porn magazine subscription.

he would literally last -16 seconds when he fucks because he’s never had anyone diddle him before. he’s a fast nutter.

@arthurfleckcentral ily

❤❤❤