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@dcntcwnme

When he’d told Jonny to take her, he’d expected a little extended fun. Watch the effects of the electroshocks on her. See her wrestle with losing her memories, her sense of self. He hadn’t really thought beyond that. He rarely did. But now that she was here, he was reminded that sometimes planning things through had its advantages. Like knowing what to do with the fragile blonde you just kidnapped before your goons drooled all over her.

He knew what he wanted to do with her. What he wanted her to look like when he was done. She was his David, his Mona Lisa. He was an artist creating his magnum opus. He knew he could do it: he could do to her what she’d tried to do to him, what she’d so miserably failed at. He could wrap her around his finger, make her spin as she unraveled in his hands, could break her apart and reassemble the pieces to his liking, he had no doubt about that.

But what did he do with her in the meantime? She was still under the illusion that they were......something, even after what he’d done to her on that table. Ah, wasn’t that just foreplay for them anyway? After all she’d never appeared overly sorry doing it to HIM. It did, however, leave things foggy in the boundary department. It seemed his little game in the asylum had carried over into his personal life outside of it, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Too bad he couldn’t talk to his psychiatrist about that. He smirked, brushing his hair back with his palm. She was lying on his bed now, the only place he could be certain she’d be safe from leering eyes, sleeping like he hadn’t chased several hundred volts into her brain. She’d been in and out of it for a while, and while it had been amusing at first, his patience was starting to run thin.

“Now now, Doc,” he scolded lightly, dropping onto the mattress next to her and twisting his upper body to watch her sleeping form for any signs of movement. “No need to be so dramatic. You always knew there was a SPARK between us.”

#dcntcwnme #dcntcwnme:spark

continued with @dcntcwnme

The Joker didn’t always view sleep as a necessary thing. He could survive on one or two hours sleep a day if Harley forced him to come to bed, if not he could go a solid four to five days with no sleep at all till his body would crash, force him to sleep for about five or six hours then he would be fine. But they had to lay low at the moment, not able to leave the apartment and stay busy was causing his body to realise how much sleep it needed. Knowing it wouldn’t leave this room, he had settled down on the sofa, his head resting in Harley’s lap. At first it had been with the intention of distracting her from her book, trying to see if she wanted to occupy the boredom with something a little more fun. But the moment, his head rested on her warm thigh, her hand stroking his hair as she continued to read, he was unable to stop himself from drifting away, letting himself fall into an almost peaceful sleep. There was a reason he didn’t like to sleep, the dreams he had tormented him or the past him, making sleep restless and dreadful. However, he had found sleeping beside Harley was a way to keep the nightmares at bay. It was like her presence was enough to make him realise that he was safe to sleep.

When he felt himself start to stir, his eyes fluttering open and his body stretching out on the sofa, he smiled sleepily up at Harley who was watching him with a fond look. It surprised him how well rested he felt, unsure of how long he had actually slept for, whether it was the one or two hours he usually did or if Harley had let him sleep for as long as his body felt he needed. He stretched his body, groaning a little at the ache in his muscles and smiled as she spoke.

“You know I always sleep better with you here,” he was definitely more affectionate before he woke up properly, he figured that was one of the reasons Harley liked seeing him when he first woke up, “how long was I asleep?”

#♠♦ a bad history with freaks dressed likes clowns ♦♠ ♠♦ the clown king of crime ♦♠#♠♦ conversations ♦♠#dcntcwnme #(hope this is okay that i continued this)

@dcntcwnme continued from ♠︎ here ♠︎

He halted in his movements, caught by surprise when she voiced her request. He hadn’t expected her to say anything at all, not after the tension that had been growing between them in recent weeks, but his non-existent eyebrows shot towards his hairline when he heard WHAT it was that she wanted.

How B L U N T.

He took his sweet time then, realising that she must be watching him, and seized the opportunity to smile wickedly while she couldn’t see it. Daddy’s little monster. I n s a t i a b l e.

His muscles flexed as he moved, slow and deliberate like a snake winding through grass. He reached for his belt, still turned away from her, and contemplated it in his hands. It was gonna go around something; either his waist or her neck. He hadn’t decided yet.

“What was that?” he asked lazily, straightening the leather in his hands. If she wanted him, she’d have to work for it. Especially after all the..........h e a d a c h e s she’d given him in recent days. “I didn’t hear ya.”

#dcntcwnme #have some trash #dcntcwnme:lessons

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He watched, amusement bubbling inside his chest, as she tried to contain her childish excitement. She was just too easy. He hadn’t even made a proposal and she was already planning the wedding in her mind, he was certain of it. She dropped the hint often enough.

It wasn’t that he was OPPOSED. He’d just never seen himself as the type of guy who’d settle down with one squeeze and be serious. He liked what they had n o w. All the fun without the commitment— at least formally on paper. He had to grudgingly admit that there really hadn’t been anyone since she’d stumbled into his life, but then that had never been a priority.

The point was—the point was that he had no REASON to pop the question, as it were. And why ruin a good thing with the messiness of convention and...... and order?

He shuddered, spreading his arms over the back of the couch as he recovered. “I can see you’re excited,” he said dryly, internally rolling his eyes at her eagerness. She’d just overlooked one little thing in her joy: that he hadn’t ACTUALLY proposed anything. “But I asked you how you’d f e e l.”

He glanced between her and the television, his favourite old comedy duo doing a routine he’d seen about a thousand times. “Would it make you HAPPY? Hmm?” He looked at her, a dark frown between his painted eyes. “Are you going to leave me if I don’t?”

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🌹

give j roses || acceptinge

Her lips curve into a grin, head tilting towards the blonde, ❝ Tryna butter me up, Harls? ❞

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@dcntcwnme continued from here

He should wring her neck for this, or at the very least kick her to the curb. It would serve her right after the countless nights of either stealing his blankets or clinging to him like one of Pammy’s vines when he got her riled up and didn’t run fast enough.

“Harley,” he warned, giving her a stern look as he watched her snuggle up in the blankets she’d stolen. In truth, he wasn’t really cold. Physical sensations like that had stopped bothering him years ago. This was a matter of PRINCIPLE. “Be a good girl and daddy might even give you a reward.”

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