Just a-Head. I wanna know where yours is.

I’m between 21 and 65. No underaged stuff. No illegal icky hanky panky. Don’t follow if underaged.

Threads begin in Nolan verse. I am interested in developing him there and hopefully you can see your muse adapting to the world. If you're from mcu, come discuss a crossover into gotham.

I tend to only rp with characters I’m familiar with so that there’d be content and that I’d be able to respect them, their world and where they came from, and hopefully give you something meaningful to read in return.

No fandom / batman vs batman, or character hate will be tolerated. 

I am not a comic reader.

For MUMUs, I would like for both of us to be comfortable with your specific character interacting with the Joker, so do come by and make sure I greenlight them too. If you have an interest tracker, I’d fill it in.

Common triggers will be tagged as tw xxxxxx. i don't post bloody gore, it’s overdone. 

Follow at your own risk. The Joker won’t be watered down. Disturbing themes are present that may be/are morally disgusting and upsetting. These may include racism, ableism, some political mentions, list not exhaustive etc. The Joker is abusive. He will injure your muse if he wants to. 

On Harley:

- Joker is a Nolan portrayal and therefore please do not assume a past relationship or a close history with him. I don’t know how you’re going to be able to reconcile that as part of your headcanon, but it is not in my character’s canon (no, I do not follow Joker in the comics and will not be obliged to). - If you’re already a friend of mine, the discussion of the dynamics between the Joker and Harley will of course go smoother. It has to be something we’re both happy with because I also want to make sure you aren’t being made to compromise on your own character.    

Mun stuff - I’m friendly. I unfollow for negativity and seek to build a positive dash. I do not have some kind of weird, unhealthy, worshippy fetish for the character.

Final note: This muse is dangerous. Yours may die. RPing with the Joker is usually high-stakes. Choose your words wisely. If it ever becomes his objective or whim to kill your muse, he’ll act. you may or may not have seen it coming. I may or may not have been having conversations with you throughout for a temperature check ooc. If you follow back, you are permitting this. 

Notttt. In the mood-dd. To be, listeningg.g.

And, ow-hh – he pulls his calf out from those mosquito teeth before they get him again, stumbled around her funny, fighty fists. His torso sways forward over the step so hard that the crisp blade in his shoe snaps out when he catches his balance. It scrapes the asphalt near one of her long twig legs.

‘   Nooo, no.  ‘   His gloves pick her up, a whole hand squeezing her face.    

‘   You’re not that special, Harleen.   ‘   The blade retracts.

‘    -But outta them all, you’re my favourite. And I HOPE YOU KNOWWW, you’ve been a liiiitle whi-ny.   ‘     His thumb pulls her bottom jaw down.   ‘  There.   ‘   And his fingers, full of her face, start to itch without anything else in his hand.

‘   People think they’re irreplaceable. I got boys who’ll cut off their own fingers just because they think it’ll make me laugh. The circle’s… gettin’ tighter, sweetheart.   ‘   Joker pauses, gaze turned to one of the windows looming in the dark, looking empty. See, the streets knew exactly what they were. Ladies, gentlemen, nobody peeks through curtains, everybody’s learned. The cops and the bat just don’t come.  

Annnd… he looks at her. all uh, all wrong. All the tiny pieces of a person trying to wiggle around outta sight.  

‘   You seem lost. so-i’llll-give-you a destination.   ‘   He shoves her forward, walking after her, catching her arm again to drag her along.

‘   i got a job for you...... MY job!!!   ‘   He laughs. The streets give way to the turn in the road, a shallow steep hill overlooking the first house of a wealthier neighbourhood. Through the glass, heads, bald, not bald, female, seated around a long dinner table.  

‘   You’re gonna do something useful tonight. The people responsible for upholding the lies of the Dent Act are there, having their uh – last supper. Psy - chia -trists. –and YOUUU-know them!   ‘   The party of hands that stuffed reports down to get him buried in Arkham without a trial.

They go into the scrawny man’s shoulder, the strong fingers of (who?- uh) Gambol’s men stuck hard in his jacket before throwing him forward. No fiery pops bursting from small autos. No screaming, or quick or slow con-sequences. The harbour past midnight’s a quiet lump of bodies receiving an endless stream of barrels from one of the containers, loaded into lorries and sent away.

The Joker turns away from it.

‘   A—nother VISIT, doc - tor?   ‘      

Friendly, is she? mmm,   could be…. She’ll know in a minute. The Joker’ll help her…-- if she could. ah. come a lil closer to him. Instead of sinking a knife right into her neck, he might lift his hand to uh----not.     ---NOT touch her.

How bout just the hand?

Harley,  Har-ley,   Har – har -  leyyyy.   His poooor, bitty bunny. No matter how many times they broke up, they’d get back together again. No matter how many times she’d pushed him away, and he’d pushed her away, someone’d come running back. Or, maybe, uh.  ….just her, he’d tell her. he knows she wants to be loved. He knows she remembered the old him, the old them when he was plenty patient and things were nice, and funnn.-

and how much she holds on to her love – to him – an’ how much agony she would bear for it. Some part of staring down at the pain in her eyes each time the back of her head hit the wall makes him come a little to his senses, shaking him almost as hard as he’d been shaking her.

After all, they had been through. ah. a lot. together. She’d seen him with his mouth cut up. She’d stitched his face back shut every time he tore those painful things out early. And he’d seen her fall lower and harder over the years with him, turnin’ away opportunities because he asked her to. Lettin’ him make her feel embarrassed about herself because she was too weak to fight back. But he uh. he knew her strength. It was buried deep, it was there, trampled on by the two of them because what was up here in the life she felt so miserable in, was worth it. To her. And to him.

 ‘   No, no no no no… ‘  his voice rolls silky smooth, velvety calm with indiscernible disdain.  ‘  I respect you.—Yeah, okay fine, I don’t respect you all. the time. but I do, Har-ley. I would never(!) hurt you-uu. Not. …   Not REALLY. – think, huh. hmm. When have we uh, not-tt. been together? When have I uh. stuck a knife in your mouth-  ‘  he lifts his chin to the side, glistening those ugly scars.   ‘  -made you like meee.  ‘

The door to their simple place, an old maintenance room, leads down the tunnels and eventually through one of the older underground stations. The other way through the sewers with several entry points across the immigrant part of town. His men were scattered around, driven by plenty of purposes like a few loose screws had just tightened up to the notch. They called him Boss, with a sense of fear looming down the year on the back of their minds.   

Does she still wanna leave him? Mm? Yes? No? Does she still wanna run out and embarrass herself in public with the swelling on her head and her horrible hair sticky with sweat as if she hadn’t taken a bath in days? Cause uh, he doesn’t think he’ll stop her.

If she really knew him, then she’d know his loyal-ty. She’d know --- that if she ran out there sayin’ she’d never come back, that she could come back again, and that he wouldn’t kill her.

‘   I didn’t make you. You - made you.

After all the things you’ve done, the cops’ll take one look at you, and lock you up in the same place you work at.

IF you’re luc--kyyy.   ‘