My LOVE ❤️🃏
My LOVE ❤️🃏
notes: so i wanted to do some more writing/character development for L!Joker. i finally started to recover from my writers block, so here i am, awake at 2am, writing smut about the Joker.
these headcanons are based on L!Joker x Reader
A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex.
Joker is not the affectionate type by any means. Usually once he’s finished, he’s got his hands behind his head as he basks in the afterglow. He doesn’t mind if you cuddle him. He pretends to hate it but secretly he loves the way you grab onto him and kiss his jawline. His favorite thing is when you kiss his scars, surprising him while his eyes are closed.
B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light.
Joker is far into BDSM. You’ve learned firsthand how dangerous it is to give him the green light because he will more than gladly take it too far. He is very self-indulgent.
C=Cum - pretty self explanatory.
As much as Joker loves to cum inside you, his absolute favorite is to cum on you. It drives him wild to know that he can mark you in such a primal way. He loves nothing more than to look down and see ropes of his own cum all over your bare chest (or face).
D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?
Dominate. DOMINANT. Dominant as hell. I don’t think he would be able to be submissive if he tried.
E=Edgeplay - Similar to ‘Kinks’ except it’s a lot riskier than usual kinks (knifeplay, breathplay, etc.).
Gunplay -> the Joker has a thing for the edgier kinks that are out there (edgy as in dangerous…and sometimes scary). The cool metal against your skin would be a huge turn off, if the man running the barrel along your thigh wasn’t a fiend you were in it deep for.
Knifeplay -> Occasionally, if he was feeling particularly sinister that day, the Joker might stick a knife in your mouth while he’s fucking you. He liked to toy with you when he had you in bed.
Dirty Talk -> the Joker can’t keep his mouth shut while he’s having sex. He’s constantly growling menacing sentences at you on every thrust. (Examples: (when he’s got the knife in your mouth) - “say a word, honey bunches, and I’ll cut your tongue out of your head”. “You like that, sweet cheeks? Then you’re gonna looove this…” (then he pulls out some kind of weapon to ‘tease’ you with. He’s hardcore).)
F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy).
The Joker commonly fantasizes you as his slave, used to please him however he chooses and whenever he wants. He imagines you strutting around his house, naked, and all for him. He hates sharing. Keeping you to himself and out of reach from anyone else is his biggest fantasy.
G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex.
Joker is just cocky enough that he doesn’t exactly care. He’s confident and has zero shame. He could probably walk around naked in front of a bunch of people and not even blink. Keep in mind, he doesn’t exactly want to be caught, no, but it’s his own fault for fucking you in situations where he could even get caught.
H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated (EX: neck).
To your surprise, his scars are actually very sensitive. He likes it when you kiss them and pay attention to them. Perhaps it’s some deeply rooted insecurity but those walls never come down enough for you to ask.
I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex.
The Joker is rarely vulnerable enough to be romantic. The closest he ever gets to that kind of vulnerability is when he thinks you’re asleep. He scoops you into his arms and gives you the biggest smooch on your cheek. You stay “asleep” while he nuzzles you and only pretend to wake up when you feel his crotch brush against your leg (he’s already hard). That’s about as romantic as he gets. There’s only a small percentage of time where he might cup your cheek while he was thrusting. But as for romantic, your Joker wasn’t for it.
J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.
He doesn’t like any big production or show leading up to intercourse. If he’s feeling ‘in the mood’, he’ll just simply make it known that he wants sex. He never forces himself on you or anything like that. But his kisses get deeper and he might grope you a little. Most of the time he just asks for what he wants. He is a blunt kind of guy.
K=Kinks - I’ll list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.
(I’ve listed most of his kinks under Edgeplay, but a few extras will be included here.)
Hair pulling -> Yours is the hair that’s getting pulled. He’s very grabby and loves to yank you around and direct you by yanking on your hair.
Glove kink -> Handling you with gloves on gets him going sometimes for whatever reason. If you’re extra messy, he won’t have to get his hands dirty. He likes to stick his gloved fingers in your mouth and make you suck them.
L=Location - Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.
the Joker is a huge risk taker, but his favorite spot for intimacy is his own bed, rivaled by his car, or whatever vehicle he happens to be driving that day.
M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.
The Joker doesn’t need to get himself off so much anymore now that he has you. But if you’re ever working late or out for some reason, he might do it while relaxing on the couch or maybe in the shower. He likes to enjoy himself, savoring it, his eyes gently rolling back as he squeezes himself tighter. A small smile reaches his face and he licks the insides of his scars, his toes curling slightly as he finally feels himself reach his release. Whenever he does this, his thought are almost always centered around you.
N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.
No rape play. The Joker is not a rapist and would never, ever force you to have sex with him. He always has your consent before he fucks you. Also, never expect him to get submissive for you. He’ll flip you like a turtle if you even try to get him to play that card.
O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).
What really gets Joker hot under the collar is your confidence with him. He likes when you do things like randomly straddle his lap and snap his suspenders, staring down at him with a coy smirk on your lips. It practically makes him drool and you can feel him get hard. Another thing that makes him thrust a touch harder is when you scratch him. He loves feeling your nails biting into the bare skin on his back, sometimes even hard and deep enough to draw blood. He loves it.
P=Position - Their favourite position to have sex in.
The Joker prefers doggy style or when you ride him. He’s found that you make a whole lot more noise when he’s going at it from behind. He also loves to relax and kick back, letting you do a large portion of the work while he just watches. Despite being heavily turned on, he’s amazing at keeping a stoic expression, that slight, smug smile perpetually on his face.
Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.
The Joker loves a good quickie, however, nothing tops a nice, good, long session. He usually only desires quickies if he’s got to head off to “work” and needs a bit of relief beforehand. There’s been times he’s been known to get a little handsy during a job. It gets you a bit nervous, thinking that perhaps while the two of you were busy would be the perfect time for an attack, but the Joker sometimes insists on a quickie in the front seat of his car either during or directly after a heist. Only if he knows he can get away with it without jeopardizing the job.
R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.
The Joker is extremely rough in bed. The first couple of times, it almost hurts. You eventually have to tell him to ease up because you can’t take it. He agrees to go easy on you, dial back on the hair-pulling, hardcore BDSM and dangerous kinks. Mostly, your fucking consists of just excessively dominating sex, degradation included.
S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.
It’s as if he can go on forever. The Joker has stamina for days and can go at it for hours if he wants to. He has unimaginable self-control and can hold himself off for as long as he needs to.
T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.
not so “toys” the Joker really likes to use are knives and the occasional gun. Never to hurt you exactly, just to use for his own pleasure and amusement. He doesn’t like to use toys on you or let you have any. He thinks that he himself should be enough to get you off.
U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.
The Joker loves to tease. He’s relentless, edging you and bringing you almost to orgasm before he stops completely just to watch you squirm. He is completely unfair and never plays by the rules.
V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.
This is one of the most vulnerable things about the Joker: he is loud. He makes so much noise when he first pushes inside you. Grunts, groans, moans and growls. You’re always surprised by how noisy he is and how grotesque he looks whenever he licks his lips like this. (Things he says: “you’re so good for me, sweets.” “Thaaaat’s it…you take all of it so well. How did you get so good at taking cock, baby doll?” “Feel that? Yeah…like me deep inside you, huh? Gonna fill you up nice…”)
W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.
There is a small window of opportunity to get under the Joker’s skin enough to wear him down and get him to be sweet. Only once or twice would he ever take you gently, arms draped loosely around your waist as he thrusts slowly and carefully. He watches your face for signs of pleasure and smiles almost sincerely when you moan for him. You lean your foreheads against each other’s and you close your eyes, letting him pleasure you. You let him kiss your neck. You kiss and nip at his scars.
And an extra ‘Wild Card’: the Joker is big into degradation during sex. He likes to call you names and tell you you’re his little slut (only if you are okay with it). It really turns you on.
X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off.
That’s the thing about the Joker: his job gives him a workout. He’s already built, but fighting hand to hand combat really builds up those muscles. He doesn’t have abs or anything but his biceps are rather large and you can see the muscles in his back ripple whenever he walks. He has nice, strong legs. Not to mention, he’s really hung.
Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.
Constantly. The Joker is a man of few needs. Sex just happens to be one of them. He would be perfectly content to come home each day after committing heinous crimes and fuck you to oblivion each and every night. Sometimes you get tired from how often he asks.
Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.
The Joker never falls asleep first. He is an extremely light sleeper and therefore, he nearly sleeps with one eye open anyway. He prefers to watch you snooze and he might close his eyes to let himself relax a while.
while we’re talking about heath…isn’t it crazy to think that experts have found that if only he hadn’t taken hydrocodone and oxycodone with all the other medications that night, he could’ve survived? two fucking medications…i’m sorry y’all i just fucking miss him and i think about him a lot and how dim hollywood has been since he passed. he was such a bright and positive presence in the world and being a fan of his when he was alive was such a gift. fucking hurts.
i often think about how stupid it was for heath ledger’s masseuse to call mary kate olsen first instead of calling an ambulance. granted it’s been reported that he passed hours before she entered the room - wouldn’t it have made more sense to get him immediate help instead of calling someone else for advice. pinche pendeja. i think about this A LOT because the situation was handled like such shit.
Me to Heath after watching The Dark Knight
for about the 27th time this year
Yes, I’m a little nerd that impulsively collects figures. Yes, I make photoshoots of said figures in different poses. It’s fun, if not a little frustrating.
Both the lighting and my camera ultimately didn’t want to work with me (ugh), but as clear, I managed to get some good photos.
Reblogs allowed, please ask if you’d like to use my photos for anything.
Ang Lee’s BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN was released #OnThisDay in 2005.
“Heath turned up, and just kind of completely ruined all my plans. Because I went, ‘He’s so much more interesting than me and what I’m doing’“
⠀⠀⠀- Christian Bale during Yahoo! Movies interview, 2009
Bale, honey, don’t be so hard on yourself. You made for a spectacular Batman, my personal favorite actually (*＾3＾)/～♡
Summary: After a failed kidnapping by the Joker, he refuses to leave the reader alone, and under rather unusual circumstances, the reader lets him.
You never had real friends.
Your first friend was a 7-foot giant of a man. He had three scars which crossed his left eye - said it represented the devil. You were a 6-year-old, so you didn’t really know what that entailed. Somebody else told you that it was your dad who was the devil - the Devil of Gotham. It was a confusing time. Your budding brain came to the conclusion that he must be a friend of your dad’s.
You were proved wrong when your father made him disappear.
why of course i love all my jokers equally! there’s joaquin phoenix, heath ledger, mark hamill, and *looks at smudged writing on hand* jaded leftover
(A/N): Thank you to the beautiful @jokerfleckk who edited the picture above! Check her out she’s amazing! Also, this was a co-written fic by @pennyship and I, she also writes so be sure to check her out! This has honestly been the longest one-shot I’ve written, it’s insane how long it’s taken us and I can’t believe it’s finally done??? It’s just really surreal! Anyway, @pennyship and I were thinking about making this into a full-fledged series so if y’all are into that, let us know! :) ENJOY!
Summary: A hit doesn’t go as expected.
Pairing: H! Joker x Reader x J! Joker
Word Count: 15k (lol)
Warnings: Dubcon, smut, swearing, violence, blood, guns and knives – y’all know the drill it’s the Joker(s).
It was the only thing that overwhelmed your perception, the only thing that made sense. Immediately, you identified the distinctive feeling of a meshed material brushing up against your face. It was a strange, straw-like fabric – one that made it difficult to breathe as it encapsulated your head. It was equally as challenging to see and even when your eyes began to settle, it scarcely made a difference. Anxiety flooded, clawing at you like a dog plagued by fleas, itching wildly in an attempt to hit that one spot – to break you.
You couldn’t even remember how you got here.
With a dry swallow, the heavy fog of grogginess began to lift – departing – while the reality of your dire situation laggardly sunk in. Your icy, rigid fingers prompted jolting movements, a helpless endeavour to loosen up the numb appendages. And, in a similar manner, it was speedily proven your arms were just as weak, the action manifesting itself in a pathetic number of wriggles and, ultimately, more anguish. With these failed attempts, you realised something horrific; a truth so gut-wrenching, your heart jumped with dread and lodged itself in your throat.
You were tied up.
You had been in this situation before – many a time as to be expected from your line of work – and you had always managed to, more or less, come out alive. Notoriety made this so.
Trying to speak, to call out for help, was fruitless; a single reckless, tentative scream could be the difference between life or death. Combining the growing pit in your stomach and your apparent amnesia, you knew you had to cling onto whatever shred of clarity you could. Though, said indicators weren’t particularly pointing to favourable outcomes.
You weren’t entirely sure how long you’d been unconscious. However, judging from the tiresome ache in your jaw, you presumed you’d been there for quite a while. No matter how much you struggled to stretch out the cramping joint, to exercise it, the hinge was imperviously fixed. Using your tongue to prod at the cloth wrapped crudely around your mouth, supposedly tied at the back, the all-too-familiar metallic tang of blood infiltrated your tastebuds. Somehow, an injury had occurred; perhaps during a scuffle you had yet to recall.
You needed a game plan.
The ropes rubbed and scratched at your raw skin, the material similar to the bag over your head. Your pulsing wrists let you know that deep bruises had already started to set, thanks to the ever-so-accommodating constraints.
The longer you were aware, the more conscious you became of your surroundings; the damp, earthy smell which enveloped the room was reminiscent of a dingy basement and the rope tied around your screaming legs was utilised in the same manner as your arms. You tried your best to call forward any form of memory, even scraps, but with practically no recollection, the sudden flurry of questions that infiltrated your mind only rendered you more frustrated and begrudgingly unsettled. While it had only taken seconds to check over your body and gain some sense of understanding, you had successfully identified the weak points of your restraints. Whoever had tied you up had done a decent job, though judging from the disproportionate knots – clunky in some areas, loose in others – there had been a mad scramble to tie you up.
Before you could focus and develop a quick survival plan, the conspiring was quickly put to a stop.
You heard footsteps.
With your instincts peaking, you honed in on their noises, the echo bouncing off what you believed was a hallway. A distinctive essence seemed to radiate off the way they walked: purposeful. Though faint and distant when you first heard them, the closer they became the easier it was for you to determine that your suspicion was correct – that there were two people approaching. Their hushed voices led you to the straining conclusion they were both males.
Within minutes, all had stopped.
Then, a metallic screech.
You held your breath, hoping that your stillness would fool your abductors.
“Well, well, our – uh, little bunny’s awake.”
Lacking any reason to keep up the limp facade, you lifted your gaze towards their direction in hopes of catching a glimpse of your masked captors through the porous material. Distorted blobs of plum and ruby red surrounded your vision. When the tap of footsteps proceeded, your body instinctively twitched at his proximity, effectuating in raspy wheezing fits of laughter.
You knew that voice. Knew it all too well, unfortunately. Wild, unhinged, and mockingly musical. It had all suddenly come back to you: the memories prior to your capture. The memories of when you had first met the dynamic deathly duo. The memories of when they had intentionally and wholly fucked up your hit.
In truth, your captors were the physical humanoid embodiments of cyclones, their primary objective – hell, life goal – to stir shit up whenever possible. Everyone involved in crime knew of their havoc and if that wasn’t enough to convince the ignorant, the news channels were just as reinforcing. Contractors were on high alert whenever they escaped Arkham and combined forces, planning for their inevitable intrusion, meaning that jobs were often scarce.
Only twice had you been ‘blessed’ with their presence, and twice had been enough.
God help anyone who fell in their path.
God help you.
Blends of neon shrouded your vision. Reds, blues and, very sparingly, pinks oozed a warm homey feeling: a welcoming glow. The condensation which dripped down onto your fingers, originating from the chilled glass in your hand, was oddly comforting. What wasn’t, though, was the potent stench of sweat, cigarettes, and beer; the yeasty scent being the most tolerable of the lot.
Although the establishment you commonly found yourself in was rough, rustic and unconventional, you’d formed a deep attachment to it. Memories, both positive and negative, decorated every corner; out of all the years you had wasted here, not a single crevice was left without a story. Especially the spray of bullet holes printed into the wall.
In the business, you were given names – never personally chosen, and if you fucked up, you had to make sure you worked your ass off to change it. ‘Triggerfinger’ had been your first. It wasn’t a nice story, and it had imprinted after you unintentionally shot at one of your coworkers, mistaking them for one of your targets. The following wasn’t any better: ‘Spineless’ the next considering you had the ‘nerve’ to turn down jobs you didn’t agree with. But, as you ascended the brutal, unforgiving ladder of assassins, the one that was the most noteworthy, was ‘Judgement.’
Just from a quick glance, any newcomer was able to deduce that the typical crowd was a rowdy, deadly bunch. Each visitor displayed their brutal scars with pride; some were horribly disfigured, and others, yet to be. Hilariously contrasted with this was the live entertainment, a mixture of jazz and soul. You guessed it was the owner’s attempt at masking the illegal activity – though, what could you truly hide with such a questionable crowd?
As usual, you kept your distance, preferring the corners of the bar – voluntarily choosing to bask in the shadows and observe your surroundings rather than interact. Most were hunched over their tables, high from the night’s success as they sat with friends; each armed with drinks and eager to slip away from life’s harsh realities. It was certainly a dangerous decision to lower your guard in the establishment, yet thanks to the heavily enforced ‘no-kill’ rule, such activities were mostly prevented.
Accidents did happen, however.
Regardless, the quaint bar that was the ‘Feisty Pig’ was home to many; hidden and safe.
At least that was what you had thought.
Despite your watchful gaze, you remained painfully unaware of the danger that walked in until it was too late. A hush creak emanated from the entrance of the bar and since the said door was hidden from your angle, you hadn’t bothered to check. A quick scan of the boisterous area had exhibited nothing out of the ordinary, inducing a false sense of security.
It had been your biggest mistake.
Bringing the cool glass up to your lips, tongue overwhelmed by the bitter drink, you lurked around the corner of the bar, nimble fingers trailing the cool, sticky wood of the countertop. The floor was in a similar state, a nasty collection of syrupy alcohol – evidence of countless spilt drinks from the careless drunkards. The muck stuck onto the bottom of your shoe emitted a grotesque crackling with each peeling step–
“What the fuck?” You exclaimed, bewildered as you blinked twice. Your gaze hit the stone ground and there, scattered into tiny pieces laid the cup that had once so securely rested in your grip. The rest of your drink was completely unsalvageable, spread out in one giant splatter, adding to the floor’s increasingly effective adhesive.
A snarl contorted your features when you looked up, the expression stuttering slightly when you met with intense dark eyes and a painted face.
Gasps sounded, the live music halted.
All went silent.
When Heath Ledger says Why so serious? his voice, his gestures and facial expressions, everything in him is fucking frightening.
He was an amazing actor.
Warnings: Slight knife play in an intimidating way, not sexual. Slight blood mentions
Request by @judyfromfinance: “So I was watching a video about how people felt fear. And the emotion stems from the part of the brain called the amygdala. And in this video it talked about how there are only 5 or slightly more people in the world who don’t have a proper working amygdala. They can’t respond to threats or feel fear like most people do. They know a threats in front of them but they don’t feel any fear. How would L!Joker react to meeting someone with this peculiarity?”
Hello darling, this is an interesting idea! I tried to make this scenario interesting even though I didn’t really know how to write it. I was going to wait to post until my finals week is over because I am swamped with studies and superrr stressed out but I felt bad for the lack of posts so I am trying to write when I can. Apologies for being a shorter one, this request was a fairly simple one so even when I tried to add some interest to it I still felt a bit bad. I hope these are okay anyway, even if they’re shorter!