highly selective joker

MIXED VERSE Arkham ☢ Comic ☢ TDK ☢ SS ☢ BTAS this whole blog is a trigger warning Tracked: whatapunchline DON'T REBLOG RP THREADS TO PERSONALS

[sancct-blog]

☓☓     WELCOME TO A BRAND NEW BEGINNING                            YOU SORRY SHITS     ☓☓

[whatapunchline-blog]

dcntcwnme:

     She smiled, pleased as ALWAYS to be on the receiving end of his praise, the slightest exhale of relief passing through her lips. Some of the tension bled out of her shoulders and she rocked back and forth on her toes, pulse racing as the desire to touch continued to build. When he finally, finally gave her the go-ahead, she wasted no time at all, immediately leaning in to curl her tongue around his fingertips, starting slowly with gentle kitten licks to work her way up to the main event.

After a moment, she sucked her fingers into his mouth fully, the metallic tang of his blood hitting her tongue just right in a way that made her MOAN against his skin, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing as she squirmed, trying to get closer still. When she could hardly taste him anymore, she dipped back, eyes wide and dark as they trailed over the rest of his skin. A lone rivulet of blood had trailed down his wrist, over his forearm, and she followed it with her tongue, glancing up at his face as her lips pressed to his skin and she dragged her mouth down towards the cuff of his sleeve. 

Harley’s heart pounded at the physical evidence of how angry she’d made him, head swimming like she’d had four or five drinks when really all she’d tasted was him. Making him jealous was a special kind of thrill that she’d never get bored of, and even as she dragged the tip of her tongue back up and around his wrist, she wanted MORE. Her lips pressed into the cut where the glass was still wedged into his palm, little gasps of breath hitting his skin. “Puddin,’” she mumbled, nudging her nose against his fingers, kissing across his palm, “Please.”

     He followed the trail of her tongue with his eyes, intoxicated by the sight and feel of her lips closed around his fingers. His lids heavy, he watched her, removing his upper body from her vicinity as he leaned back to see her better, keep some distance to the act to remain in control of the goings-on while he still could.

His eyes rolled back into his head. Ooooooh she was good. She was, she was, she was, she was good, he’d give her that, and his own tongue drew across his cold front teeth while he contemplated what to do with her. He knew what she wanted him to do. What she’d wanted him to do ever since before they’d left home tonight.

Exhaling loudly, he let his head fall back for a second, simply enjoying her touch, and then, without warning, his fingers closed around her mouth and pressed into the flesh of her cheeks, leaving wonderful dents in her flawless skin. “Sh-shshsh.” He shushed her, eyes still closed, and breathed deeply. “So impatient.”

He looked at her then, watched the pretty picture of the smile painted on the back of his hand pressed against her face. He never got tired of that. It put a faint smile on his own lips, amusing him enough to ease his grip on her and whisper against her ear again. “Tell daddy what you want.” His nose nudged against her hair, briefly pressing into it before he placed a light kiss to the tip of her ear. “Say it.”

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     To say that she was unhappy with him would be a gross understatement; Harley was angry. Her annoyance had gotten the chance to fester for days, now, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d destroyed her fair share of things lying around the house. But smashing up J’s toys had just made her TIRED, frustration and unhappiness bleeding back into her mind and souring her mood almost instantly.

She knew she never should have said anything. Of course he didn’t want a child. That was not in their plan and never had been and he probably saw her pregnancy as an irritating inconvenience. Surely, if he’d shared her excitement, he’d be here right now — but she was alone, and none too pleased about it.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs instantly raised her hostility back up to a slow boil. Thankfully, the urge to cry had been minimal, the sinking sadness and disappointment that his reaction had brought suffocated by an exasperating displeasure. All this time, and he still thought he could just LEAVE her when things didn’t go his way. 

Well, certainly NOT if she had anything to say about it, though he’d saved her the trouble of having to go out and find him by coming home, and that was new. Harley looked up as he stepped into the doorway, though she said nothing, leveling him with a look that made her disappointment more than clear.

@whatapunchline

[whatapunchline-blog]

     It had been about two weeks by his estimate, and he’d kept busy during this time. The mind was an incredible thing: he’d cycled through emotions and opinions at a pace rapid enough to give him whiplash, and at the end of it he’d come out a whole new person! Well. Maybe not entirely changed, but he had reached the last supposed stage of grief: acceptance.

There was something to be said about acceptance, and he’d fed THAT psychiatrist his tongue, but Joker had used his time away from Harley and her harping wisely, and now that he was back, he was feeling downright good about it. Euphoric, even.

“Harley,” he greeted her, a wide grin on his face, and spread one arm in invitation. The other was bent over his shoulder, holding on to a big red bag behind him that he’d lugged up from the car. “Aren’t ya gonna give me a kiss?” he teased, noticing that she hadn’t greeted him with her usual fervour. 

Bah, hormones, he thought, internally rolling his eyes. If this was what he had to look forward to for the next.... what? eight months? he should have stayed far away from her and the oversized mallet he’d given her for her last birthday, but alas, what’s done was done.

[whatapunchline-blog]

dcntcwnme:

     For the last hour, she’d felt somewhere between wake and sleep, a sort of fuzzy thickness in her head that made it difficult to tell if she was conscious or dreaming. Parts of this seemed like a nightmare, but it felt so real at the same time that it was hard to determine if she was imagining it or not. When she felt a movement make her horizontal body jostle, she sort of wished it was a dream — a sudden, sharp pinprick of PAIN rippled through her body, and she groaned as she struggled to sit up, eyes fluttering open despite how HEAVY they felt.

Her head felt like it was buzzing — or was that her ears? Either way, she heard only a low hum that grew louder with every inhale of breath, and as she forced herself up onto her elbows, the dull ache behind her eyes that throbbed more insistently with each new stimulant crested to a pounding insistence by the time she managed to force her eyes open. J. He was here! That cleared up her thought somewhat, though it was still a struggle to remember how exactly they’d GOTTEN here.

After working her jaw for a few moments, momentarily forgetting how words worked, she finally managed to mumble, “What happened?” Bright blue eyes squinted into her surroundings and finally began to take NOTICE of them, long eyelashes blinking slowly and then more quickly once she realized where she was and what the implications of her posture meant. They were in a bedroom — his bedroom?! The Joker’s BEDROOM? The silk sheets under her skin felt like thousands of tiny knives but she ignored it — to her, it might as well have been the softest cloud. She was in The Joker’s BED.

“Is this your bedroom?” she asked finally, sounding delighted, a quiet stream of panic rippling through the throbbing pain in her head. Was this their first date? Had she shaved her legs? How was she ever supposed to SLEEP with him if it’d been — how long, since she’d been with someone else, again? She sat up a little more, movement stilted and stiff even as she reached out for him, wiggling in closer. God. He’d brought her here — somehow — to his bedroom, and despite all the laws she’d broken and every terrible thing she’d just done, she’d gotten here and she was pleased about it.

It was finally THEIR time. She’d wondered for so long how this might go, when they finally got to be ALONE, away from all the prying eyes in Arkham who didn’t understand their love. Finally, they were getting the chance to explore it on their own terms. “Um. It’s really nice.”

     He grinned, his metal-capped teeth gleaming in the light, and spread his arms wide as he announced, “Home sweet home! Ha. Ha. hmmm.” He hummed, looking at her as if he was still trying to figure her out. As if he hadn’t forcibly removed her from Arkham on a whim. As if she’d followed him home while he wasn’t looking. “Welcome to the Ha-Hacienda. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

Something told him she would, despite the circumstances. He couldn’t possibly fathom why: any sane person would have run screaming and begging for their lives at this point, but here she was, still looking at him the same sickly sweet way she’d done in Arkham. As if she hadn’t just been kidnapped by Gotham’s most notorious killer. That girl needed HELP.

“What happened?” he parroted, seemingly thoughtful, and tilted his head up. “Oh, I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” He laughed, remembering all the times therapists tried prodding his brain for answers, the multiple occasions Batman showed up at a scene. Classic. “WELL, Doc. What can I say? Seems like I finally made you swoon.”

His polished smile remained in place while he watched her, carefully cataloging her every move. Would she dare touch him, he wondered? Would she look at him for comfort for the thing he did to her? He knew what it was like: he’d enjoyed more than his fair share of brain flossing in his day, and he was familiar with the disorientation, the pain, the feeling of not really belonging in your own body. Like someone had moved all the furniture up there just an inch to the right.

There was more than a little malicious joy coursing through his veins when he thought of what he’d cost her. How many of her precious memories had she lost? How much of her personality? That thing that made her.... HER. That thing that she’d tried to pry from him? His tongue licked over the bottom of his teeth. Now there was something to look forward to. “How are you feeling, Doc?” he asked cheerfully, knocking against her forehead as if it was a door. “Anybody home?”

[whatapunchline-blog]

@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.”

[whatapunchline-blog]

dcntcwnme:

     She nodded slowly, completely enamored with the idea of doing so. Right now, she’d welcome ANY contact he was willing to give her, and if that included sucking the blood off his fingers she’d gladly beg for the chance to do it. He drew closer and her breath hitched, picking up pace again until her chest rattled with each shaky inhale, staring at him with wide eyes, her pupils blown. Harley’s mouth opened in anticipation when he held his hand out, but when he bypassed her lips she let out a sigh instead, a slight whining lilt to her tone.

“I’m sorry,” she gushed, as soon as he prompted, swaying closer despite herself. It took everything she had not to close the last remaining distance between them and wrap her body around his, but she was done acting out for now, letting him take control and dictate the PACE in the hopes that it would ease some of the tension between them. “Puddin’, I’m really… really, really, really sorry, I promise.” 

The words were breathed out in a quiet exhale to match his voice, shivering as she leaned in closer another inch, her eyes locked on his. She just wanted him to touch her — somewhere, anywhere — and needed to feel the press of his fingers on her skin again, long eyelashes swooping down against her cheeks when she blinked to break the SPELL, turning her cheek towards his hand. She stared at his fingers and licked her lips, drawing another wavering breath before she asked, “Can I?”

If he said no, she honestly felt to the point of frustrated tears, wanting so badly to pounce that she could only restrain herself so much. She leaned in further, half-lidded eyes trained on his hand, so close that her breath ghosted his knuckles when she asked, “PLEASE?” 

     Thoughtfully pursing his lips, Joker seemed to consider her plea for a moment while he drank in the sight of her, anxious for his touch. Aching for his attention. It was a balm for his soul, really, to see her so complacent, ready to dance to his every tune, and all the annoyance of the past week drained out of him with a loud exhale of breath.

“Good,” he praised her, a delighted little exclamation before his pointer traced over her cheek, tapped against it a few times, and then came to rest on her lips, drawing the bottom one down. He smiled then, a little mischievous, and allowed his skin to brush against hers when he leaned in and growled into her ear, “Show me what you got.”

He offered his hand fully then, finally opening his fist to reveal the blood leaking between his fingers and painting his ghostly skin red. Some of it was dripping down his wrist, leaving a crimson trail that led into territory hidden by his shirt, and he shuddered a little at the thought of her tongue there, the anticipation of feeling her warm flesh lick it away like expensive wine. Now that was what he called FUN.

[whatapunchline-blog]

After swearing up and down for almost 7 years now that I will never ever ever watch The Walking Dead or any other zombie crap thrown at me I have caved and binged the entire thing, all of it, in like.... I don’t even wanna count back but it was less than a week. My brain is now fried. Also I’m really tempted to make a Negan or a Negan-verse for J because those dudes have a lot in common, ngl.

[whatapunchline-blog]

Halloween Party Planning

"Real pumpkins or fake?"

"We need fog."

"Let's have a haunted hay ride!"

"I was stunned at the price of decorations."

"Cobwebs EVERYWHERE!"

"What costume do you think I should wear?"

"I've been trying to get some ideas by watching Martha Stewart."

"Where have you been? We have a party to get ready for."

"I love the glitter skulls."

"Do you think this is enough punch?"

"Have some witch fingers."

"I got a pet costume."

"I love what you did with the bathroom."

"Did we need that much blood?"

"Is the party child friendly?"

"Think we have enough candy?"

"You should see the pile of tombstones I have."

"So when do we all get to dance to Thriller?"

"This ball was a fantastic idea?"

"Have you seen my knife?"

"Any butterbeer or pumpkin juice?"

"I don't suppose you have anything that's gluten free..."

"Mmmm... roasted pumpkin seeds..."

"You look phenomenal."

"I can't figure out who you are. Sorry."

"Care to dance?"

"The sparkling lights are a nice touch."

"This bloody Mary tastes odd."

"Wine. Perfect."

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     Rationally, she knew he had a point. He’d be right in the next room, after all, but she still didn’t LIKE it, whining even more when she insisted, “But I don’t WANNA.” She sighed, shutting her mouth, momentarily comforted by the gentle touch of his hand on her chin, leaning in even as her brow furrowed sadly, eyes wide and pleading. “Puddin’, I don’t GET IT,” she started, voice wavering despite herself, “Why do things have to change?” The new rules were starting to make her regret her decision — this wasn’t what she’d wanted. She thought being engaged would be… happier than this.

Even though he was trying his best to convince her that it wouldn’t be so bad, she was not having it, nodding along to his encouragement even as her mind insisted no, no, no, no. Not even the chance to spend some more time with the babies was enough to cheer her up, though, something that was made more than obvious when she miserably squeaked out, “A few MONTHS?” A large part of her felt ready to start crying and take it all back — did she really want to be engaged if it meant everything had to change?

…But she did want to be engaged, and she did want to marry him. She was quiet for a moment as she turned the idea over in her mind. He’d be proud of her if she managed to tough it out, wouldn’t he? Sighing, she ducked her head, trying to hide some of the disappointment from her face. “Okay,” she mumbled, “I guess. If — if that’s what you really wanna do, I guess we can. But I think it’s gonna be REALLY awful.” 

She sniffed, squeezing her legs around him a little tighter where she was straddling his lap, slowly starting to come to terms with the things he wanted to change. This sucked. It was supposed to be the HAPPIEST day of her life, but now she just felt miserable and annoyed, though she knew it wouldn’t be right to start screaming and breaking things when he honestly thought this was what was BEST. He seemed so sincere, so she was going to try her best to cheer up for him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

[whatapunchline-blog]

     Ah, she was tugging at the heart strings, tickling out a tune. Luckily, he’d cut his years ago. Always plan ahead, that’s what he liked to say. Or was that someone else? “Now now, sweetpea, why the long face? You got what you wanted!” He smirked. It was simply too bad she hadn’t thought about what that  w a s.  Careful what you wish for, wasn’t that the old saying? “I think it’s time we celebrate! Have ourselves a little party!”

He was tempted to twist that as well, but he decided against it. He’d save that for stag night. For now, he could allow her to feel a little elation at being engaged to the unwilling Joker, the man himself, the clown prince of crime, the nightmare of bats. Who knew? They might even have fun. He did like their little date nights unless they got rudely interrupted, after all. They always tickled his funny bone just right.

“You can move all your stuff later. Let’s take the day off and simply...... enjoy ourselves.” His pointer tapped against her nose and a wide smile grew on his face. “Time to get moving, kiddo. I can’t feel my legs.” He frowned, seemingly contemplative. “I do still have legs, don’t I?” He shrugged. “Ah, more space in the car.”

[whatapunchline-blog]

ooc. I know I haven’t been super active lately so I figured I should probably say something. I do still wanna RP with you guys, but these last days have been crazy and I won’t be able to breathe until maybe Thursday when I’m lucky, and then I’m away for the weekend, and and and. I’m a full-time student with a part-time job so I have to be selective, but even so, these past days (weeks?) have been crazy unproductive over here and I’m sorry. I know there’s a whole bunch of replies I owe that I do still wanna do, I just haven’t gotten around to it. I’ll keep you posted. Much sorry.

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     “Puddin’,” she growled, “I wasn’t bein’ SERIOUS! I don’t wanna move out.” Every time he pulled away she just leaned in closer, inching nearer and nearer to him in his lap and clinging, refusing to let him shove her away. Where was the fun in being engaged if they weren’t even going to be TOGETHER? “Baby,” she whined, lips turning down into a pouting frown as the excitement started to fade in favor of reality, “I can’t sleep when you’re not THERE.” Wide, sad eyes turned pleading as she thought about having to go to Ivy’s and plan the wedding all on her own. 

This wasn’t what she’d thought being engaged was going to be like at ALL. It wasn’t fair — being engaged was supposed to mean they’d be together MORE, not less! He had the idea all mixed up, and while she was trying to correct him as sweetly as possible, his arguing was starting to make her panic. “Puddin’, I’m pretty sure engaged people are s’posed’a be TOGETHER. Why do I have to sleep on the couch now?” 

No more fighting over the covers? No more doing her best to stealthily snuggle up to him when he wasn’t paying attention and hoping he was happy enough to INDULGE her? Those were some of her favorite things about being with him, and his insistence that they go away was enough to make her bottom lip wobble precariously. “Can’t you sleep on the couch with me? PLEASE? Even if it’s just for a little bit. Just a couple’a hours, PLEASE?”

[whatapunchline-blog]

     She really was a cute little thing, he couldn’t deny. How she insistently pushed closer, terrified by the prospect of being parted from him even for a scarce few seconds. The slight tremor in her lips as she spoke. As if the  t h o u g h t  of being separated was enough to break her. It all added up to make his chest swell with a wild cocktail of emotions, buttered him up just enough to allow for a little slip before he put his foot down.

“Harley,” he purred, smooth as silk, and lifted his hand to her chin. He angled it up with his pointer and rubbed over it with his thumb, chasing the tremble there away. “Baby. I’m doing this because I  c a r e.”  About teaching her a lesson, mostly. “You’ve slept without me before. It will be easy! And I’ll be right in the next room, keeping the monsters away.”

Really, she was acting like they’d been joined at the hip so far and he was readying the chainsaw to cut her off. He rarely slept for more than a few hours, if he even slept at all, and was wont to disappear inside his head and plans for days on end without dedicating so much as a single thought to her. In his most humble opinion, she was vastly overreacting, but he was wise enough not to voice that thought. She was only ever really dangerous when she got emotional, and oh boy was she aquiver now.

“Besides,” he said, managing to sound encouraging with ease, “think about how happy the kids will be! They miss you when you’re not there. You’re gonna have so much FUN together!” That part at least was true. Bud and Lou would be beside themselves when they caught on to the new sleeping arrangement. If he was lucky, it would even shut them up at night. Talk about killing two birds with one stone! Smiling sweetly, he shook her head a little and said, “Chin up, kiddo. It will only be for a few months.”

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     “Bud and Lou,” she cooed, running her hands over their fur with a bright grin, giggling when they both started crawling over her at once, pleased with the way J pulled her in CLOSER. His grip was verging on the edge of too-tight, but she’d never complain about him holding on, and so she continued blissfully making faces at the hyena cubs pawing at her thighs, babbling happy-sounding murmurs under her breath. 

She was ticklish, and when he tucked his face into her neck she squirmed, exhaling breathless laughter and finally turning to look his way, nodding her confirmation as her smile stretched. “Uh-huh,” she beamed, “I love them. Best present EVER, puddin’.” Her gaze softened and she leaned a little more into his hold, murmuring, “REAL happy. —– Are you?”

Her tone turned cautious at the end, hesitating before she tacked the question on. It felt like a trick question, but most of what he said usually felt that way, and Harley tended to just answer and worry about the consequences later. He seemed to be in a good mood, at any rate, and maybe he was honestly just asking. Maybe he really wanted her to be HAPPY. After all, he’d gotten her such a thoughtful gift. She swooned, hardly able to stand how romantic it was. He’d really meant to make her smile!

She turned her attention back towards the cubs, fawning all over them now that she had both looking to play with her. Evidently they’d already had enough of Mr. J, which was just fine by her — of course her BABIES loved their mom! “They have such cute laughs, puddin’. They’re the perfect babies for us.”

[whatapunchline-blog]

     She really was pushing it now, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to wrap his fingers around her throat and throttle her. Apparently SUBTLETY wouldn’t work. His little  g i f t  really had warped her mind. They couldn’t have THAT.

Part of him was viciously smug that he’d been proven right: having kids was DISTRACTING. And she, OH, she wasn’t  s t r o n g  enough to resist the temptation. It had barely been thirty minutes and she was  already  losing sight of what mattered. How did she expect to have her priorities in order going forward?

In a way, all of this had been a test. A trial period, so to speak, and she’d failed SPECTACULARLY within the first hour. Starting with wanting to stay in to play with the kids, and now this? She wasn’t even  l o o k i n g  at him. As if he wasn’t even THERE. ( he was still there, wasn’t he? had he turned invisible? )

He growled, a low, threatening sound in the back of his throat. She’d NEVER ignored him in favour of something else. He’d figured her too smart to shun him, but it seemed he’d been giving her a little too much credit. It was..... DISAPPOINTING. Doting on the cubs when he was busy and wanted her to stop hovering so he could get on with his work was one thing; blatantly IGNORING him while he was practically draped around her was a slight too big to ignore.

          Quid pro quo, honey.

He untangled himself with the speed of a restless maniac and jumped back onto his feet. “I’m going........OUT,” he announced to no one in particular but did spare a hateful glance for the cubs. It wasn’t directed at them. He didn’t blame them for the folly of their mother; he was merely making a point of not looking at the woman in question, and he had to glare at something. “Don’t wait up.”

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     Her smile dropped, eyes narrowing into a glare as she repeated, “The COUCH?” No. Nope. Nuh uh, not happening. Her eyebrows arched in disbelief and she pulled back to cross her arms under her chest, rapidly headed towards a tantrum. “That’s NOT what doin’ it right means. An’ don’t even get me started on the other part.” No SEX until the wedding? He really was insane. “Puddin’, nobody cares about those dumb old traditions anymore!” Whining probably wasn’t going to help her case, but she couldn’t stop her voice from coming out high-pitched and insistent, surprised that he’d even thought to mention that. J was the least traditional person she’d EVER met, and now he wanted to start getting serious? For an engagement he hadn’t even wanted?

“I’m not sleepin’ on the couch,” she insisted, fully aware that she was being a brat but unable to stop herself, “That’s crazy. If I’m gonna do that, I might as well just move OUT altogether.” Harley grit her teeth, fighting the growing urge to keep whining and point out how unfair he was being. They barely slept together as it was, so what was the difference now that they were engaged? As far as she was concerned, there wasn’t one. Her nose scrunched up and she pulled a face at him, openly displaying her distaste for his idea. “Puddin’, I don’t wanna sleep by myself.”

She was starting to get the feeling that he was looking to prove a point, but she had no idea what it was supposed to be. Where had they taken a wrong turn? He was going to propose, she jumped the gun, they were engaged now, and that was it, right? She didn’t think she’d missed anything important. Pouting, she only shifted closer as he inched away, pressing her luck. “It doesn’t make any sense. Engaged people are supposed to sleep together.”

[whatapunchline-blog]

     His eyes brightened in a show of victory that never bode well for anyone. “Uh-uh.” He pressed her head back with his finger before she could get any ideas. “Married people are. There’s a difference, pooh. And WE,” he smiled, a nasty little thing, “are not married. Yet.” It was funny, really, that she hadn’t seen this coming. That she didn’t seem to comprehend what he was doing. What she’d raced into headfirst like the stubborn, short-sighted thing she was.

That’s okay, he thought, that’s what she has ME for. SOMEONE needed to keep things in order around here, after all. What was this? The MADHOUSE? He chuckled, incapable of stopping himself, and removed his finger from her forehead, effectively terminating all contact safe for her sitting in his lap, and that would end soon enough. Most likely when she stormed out in a huff at the next part.

“But that’s an excellent idea!” He beamed, seemingly full of pride. “Now you’re getting it! We really are two of a kind.” He patted her cheek. That was still fair game, he figured. He needed to keep her on the leash with something. “Not sure how the kids will take it when mummy isn’t here to take care of them, but I’m sure we’ll manage. After all, you only get married ONCE.” Now there’s a joke. Still, he had a feeling discussing multiple marriages with Harley wouldn’t lead to anything good. Especially not when she was still at arm’s length and growing increasingly furious as it was.

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     There was NOTHING quite like having a front row seat to the action, watching him do his thing and knowing it was because of her. SHE did that. The knowledge of it sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from J, watching him in his element with a hungry, wanting gaze. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip to keep herself quiet, wide eyes taking in his every movement with a building excitement that made her pulse race. 

Still, she jumped a little when she actually saw his fist connect, her breathing quickening while she stared. She squirmed as subtly as she could, not wanting to do anything to disturb the scene unfolding in front of her, watching with rapt attention. He had every atom of her focus and she was shameless in letting everyone know, her attraction more than evident in the way her breathing hitched when he pulled out his blade. God. 

It wasn’t NORMAL what he did to her, but she’d long since stopped questioning it, choosing instead to enjoy the little tingles she felt all over when he got this mad. It felt hot in the booth — stifling, even — and she knew she was visibly affected, dazed from how good he looked taking care of that guy. Of course, it didn’t help that she’d already been keyed up, and if he thought she’d been wanting him DESPERATELY before they even left for the club, he was really about to see something else. 

Harley’s nerves felt rubbed raw, her patience worn down to nothing. Watching him get dressed was the previews, and getting the chance to watch THIS was even better, something she’d never get tired of, even one day when she knew she’d inevitably be in the other seat. But for right now, she could ogle him as much as she wanted from the safety of the other side of the booth, SECURE in her knowledge that anything he’d do to her tonight would be something she wanted — begged for, even.

Her lips parted and she licked her lips, mouth dry. Her breathing was the only sound in the small space, now, which emptied out fast enough until it was just the two of them again. He had to be able to feel the way her gaze never left him, and even now, it slid slowly down his back until she caught sight of his hand. “Puddin’,” she started softly, voice hoarse, “You’re bleedin’.”

She uncrossed her legs, high heels clicking on the floor when she planted her feet, hesitantly standing up and taking a cautious step forward. Her legs felt shaky, thighs trembling until she gave up and stood still. She wanted BADLY to crawl towards him and end the agonizing hours of foreplay they seemed to be stuck in, though half of her also wanted to reach for his palm and clean him up instead, make sure he was alright. She knew he wouldn’t do it, but her thoughts felt too slow to articulate what she was thinking, like her mouth couldn’t possibly form the words.

There weren’t any words for what he was able to make her feel, anyway. She knew she owed him an apology but she still couldn’t catch her breath, waiting on the very edge of her sanity for him to make a move already. The slightest pleading sound slipped unbidden from her lips, shattering the silence with something like a whimper; she couldn’t POSSIBLY wait any longer. 

Everything else faded away when she was around him, the obsession taking over until she had to be the forefront of his attention, and more often than not, it got her into trouble, how she acted out, but how could she ever be motivated to stop when THIS was the result of all her button-pressing? Watching J intimidate and hurt someone she’d been dancing with felt more like a reward than a punishment, though whatever happened next would be the defining moment that would let her know if the silly fight they’d been having was over YET.

But she knew she couldn’t bear it if he wanted to drag things out further, make her wait even longer. Her head already felt fuzzy enough and her legs were embarrassingly shaky, flushed cheeks physical proof of how affected she was just from watching him. No, waiting even longer would be TORTURE that the frayed edges of her sanity just couldn’t take tonight, so she crossed her fingers and hoped he’d take it EASY on her — not likely, given the show she’d just performed for the express purpose of pissing him off, but she could dream, right? What was he WAITING for?

[whatapunchline-blog]

     Like a reptile catching the telltale sounds of an imminent FOOD source, Joker lifted his head just a fraction, his back still turned to the mouse making squeak. He’d noticed his hand was bleeding when he’d caressed Mr Lovejock, but he hadn’t been overly bothered then, and he certainly wasn’t  n o w.  He knew there were still pieces of glass buried in his skin, digging into his flesh whenever he clenched the muscles there, but he was in no hurry to remove them. They tickled him just right.

He decided it was time to move on to phase two of the evening when he heard her heels hit the ground; he was confident she’d stirred enough. He liked his girl well-cooked. Turning his upper body in a move reminiscent of a doll in a horror movie, he eyed the one standing there, staring at him as if she intended to scarf down his soul if he only let her get close enough.

His lips spread in a delighted smile. Now that sounded like FUN. “Gonna kiss it better, Doc?” he purred, allowing the words to vibrate softly in the back of his throat. He bet she’d like to. What an honour, he thought maliciously, to get a taste of HIM. But had she earned it? Truthfully, he couldn’t deny the appeal of watching her chew on glass, especially that coated in his very own blood, but had she done enough to  d e s e r v e  it?

He finally approached her, light steps carrying him across the distance between them. He wouldn’t look away for a second. Now that he’d set sights on his prey, he wasn’t going to let it slip away. He stopped just short of touching her, barely a feet off, and exhaled. She must have felt it, but that was all she’d feel for the time being, until she’d satisfied the creature scratching against his ribcage, roaring impatiently while she drew out the inevitable.

A smile creeping onto his face, he stood, watching her, and lifted his injured hand. It ghosted over her cheek, just barely not touching, before he balled it into a fist and dug the shards deeper into his skin. The movement of air was the only thing she could feel, and it widened his smirk as he growled, “I’m waitin’.”

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

    She was so in the zone that it took her a moment to realize why the crowd was shifting, wrapped up in her favorite moves and executing them flawlessly, but when she saw Jonny’s face pop up in the cage her eyes lit up. FINALLY. Harley beamed, not even bothering to look contrite — she’d save that for LATER — and took an immediate step back, clearing the way for Frost to reach out and grab the boy she’d been dancing with. Poor guy. He looked nervous.

Never one to miss the SHOW, she skipped out of the cage after Frost and her new friend, gleefully slipping past the now silent spectators and up towards the booth. Her fun was ruined, now, anyway. No one else would want to dance with her after the way Jonny had hauled that guy out of there. Everyone in the immediate vicinity knew where they were headed, and she really got a kick out of watching them pretend not to watch her as she slunk out of the box and away from the crowd. 

Humming under her breath along to the tune of the spluttered protests of the surely dead man being dragged along a step ahead of her, she straightened her outfit, smoothing her hands over her hair to make herself look right again for J. It was a new record, how long he’d lasted without dragging her away, but it wasn’t like she minded when he stopped her dancing. This part was her FAVORITE, after all. Much more fun than any old dance could ever be.

Harley tried her best to school her face into a more neutral expression, but the corners of her mouth just wouldn’t turn down, no matter how hard she tried. He had been watching. And even when he was mad at her, it was nice to know that he still cared. As long as he was possessive over her, she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon, and that was enough for her. That gave her all the security she needed to crawl towards him and beg, endless apologies spilling from her lips until their status quo was restored AGAIN.

They reached the booth and Frost unceremoniously dumped the guy down in one of the available seats, Harley dropping easily down into the other. She knew there was no chance that she’d be able to slip in unnoticed, but she still adopted her most innocent look, like she didn’t understand why she’d been interrupted. Her eyes slid over to the man who looked completely terrified, and then towards J, stifling a smile. Broken glass, liquor on the floor, and her puddin’, who looked positively FURIOUS — this was exactly what she’d wanted. It took everything in her to stop the grin from spreading out across her face. Whatever trouble she was in for, she had a feeling that she was going to LIKE it.

“Puddin’,” she greeted, settling in for the show, crossing her legs so that the already short hemline of her dress inched just that bit higher. She never quite knew when to QUIT. He looked positively murderous, and she had no problem admitting how much it turned her on, teeth biting into her bottom lip as her eyes raked over his form, breath catching in her chest. The way he looked wasn’t exactly helping on the whole turned-on-beyond-words front. 

It was impossible to look away. She was transfixed, staring openly, shifting where she sat with restless energy. Dancing had proved to be only a momentary DISTRACTION; here with him again, he had all of her attention and it was a struggle to wait patiently when all she wanted to do was climb into his lap and start in on her ‘sorry’s.

But they weren’t alone, and the festivities were just about to start. Drawing in another deep breath, she watched, hardly able to sit still with all the ANTICIPATION she was feeling for what he was about to do.

[whatapunchline-blog]

     Oh he could have strangled her for her audacity, the way she slipped into his booth as if she hadn’t just been getting intimately acquainted with the little RAT struggling in Frost’s arms. He could have. He  a c h e d  to. But he didn’t do it. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To be the victim of his rage. To have his attention wholly. To make his blood boil until the smoke was coming out his ears.

Knowing what he knew, he didn’t look at her at all. If he did, he would forget about the boy. Forget about Frost here with them. Forget the dancers outside, the watchful eyes, and just devour her right there. So he didn’t look. Not at her. His gaze was entirely fixed on the kid held in place by his best man. The look of terror in his eyes when he saw  w h o  it was that had requested a private audience.

It happened, on occasion. Sometimes, a tourist, a stranger, an outsider would stumble into them. Someone who didn’t follow the news. Someone who didn’t bother to look at the pictures. Sometimes someone thought they had to prove something, play the big man and show that they weren’t  a f r a i d.  ( But they should have been afraid. So very afraid. )

It happened, on occasion, that someone was STUPID enough to get close to his girl. When he was in a good mood, he didn’t always care. Sometimes he let them live. It kept things interesting, made him unpredictable. Gave men false hope when they laid eyes on her. Kept Harley on her toes.

His usual method of dealing with this was a straight bullet to the head. Depending on how he was feeling, he either pulled the trigger himself or used his unquantifiable charm to grin them into a suicide. He would not be using a bullet today.

Anticipation sang beneath his skin, setting his body a-tingle, and he licked the teeth visible through his wide smile as he zeroed in on his prey. “It’s rude to stare.” The boy flinched, quickly blinking and looking at anything  o t h e r  than the Joker chewing him up with his eyes. Joker, for his part, only grinned wider. “What’s thamatter? Not pretty enough for ya?” His voice lowered. “Am I not your TYPE?”

The boy glanced at him in terror, and J took this opportunity to slide out of his seat, stalking close while Frost turned the following struggle from the kid futile. Still smiling, J got up close and personal, stroking his cheek with a bloodied hand he didn’t remember cutting. “I know,” he purred. “It’s the TEETH, isn’t it?” His fist pounded into the kid’s without a warning, striking lightning fast. J barely felt the impact. He continued smoothly, as if the boy wasn’t whimpering and holding his bloody mouth with tears in his eyes. “Ya got Batman to thank for THAT.” The look on his face was positively chilling. “Wanna call him? Hmmmm? Make a COMPLAINT?” J tilted his head. “Think he’ll hear ya?” Both his hands collided forcefully with the kid’s ears, leaving him dazed and staggering. J’s grip slipped to hold on to his cheeks, keep him in place as he looked deeply into his eyes. “mmmmmm clown got yer tongue?”

He laughed then, low and without humour, and he could feel a chill run through the boy. J’s own tongue darted out to press against his front teeth, an almost mischievous expression on his face if it hadn’t been for the blatant murderous intention in his eyes. “Lemme check for ya.”

He screamed, but neither fast nor loud enough to make a difference. In fact, opening his mouth was the single dumbest thing the kid could have done, but in Joker’s experience, people weren’t really SMART when it came to their survival. He grabbed the offered tongue without effort and produced a razor from his pocket with the other hand. Then he cut.

Tongues were easy to cut through. At least if one had the right utensils, which J made a point of having. When he was done, he held the tongue between his fingers, smiled, and stuffed it into the owner’s pocket. “I believe that’s yours.”

He had a split second to jump to the side before the kid bent over and puked. It was a funny looking colour: bright neons from his drinks mixed with blood and other bits. Lucky for the kid, J had seen this happen enough to have caught the sign in time. If Romeo thought he was in trouble NOW he didn’t wanna find out what happened when you ruined J’s favourite burgundy shirt. 

Pleased with the utterly miserable sight of the boy and the sounds of his agony, J decided he’d had enough. Waving at Jonny, he said, almost bored, “Get him outta here. And tell Carlo we’re gonna need a cleanin’ lady in aisle three.”

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

     “Uh huh,” she confirmed, hoping he was as proud of her as she was of herself, “All on my own!” Her first real PLAN, thought up and executed just by HARLEY! And it’d even worked. That was saying a lot, given how often things with him tended to backfire on her and blow up straight in her face. She smiled, squirming a little but laughing happily when he dug his fingers in, still thinking she was getting her way.

The kiss caught her off guard, but she opened up for it immediately, like always, lips parting with surprise that quickly turned to joy. She settled, letting him hold her still, unmoving save for her eyes softly falling shut and the low moan that reverberated through their mouths. It’d been so LONG since he’d last kissed her, or since she’d been able to get with anything more than a few quick pecks, and it felt amazing to be able to rectify that now, her whole body melting as she swooned into his kiss. It took everything in her not to arch up and wrap her arms around him, rock her hips down into his lap and kiss him until she passed out from a lack of oxygen, but she managed, terrified of ruining the moment when it felt so uncharacteristically SWEET.

She was dazed when he pulled away, blinking slowly before her eyes opened all the way, tongue darting out to skim over the places on her lip his teeth had been. Her breath caught when she realized how close they were, and she was only able to snap out of it when his grip loosened and she realized she missed his tight hold. “Huh?” Her brain was playing catch up, still stuck on the feel of his lips against hers, and it was another moment before a wide, silly grin broke out across her face, beaming brightly at him when she let out a DREAMY sigh.

A moment later, what he’d said registered, and she was brought back down to Earth so she could respond, “Oh. You mean for the wedding? I got TONS of ideas. You wanna start planning it already? Oh, Puddin,’ I just KNEW you’d be as excited as I was! Okay, so, I wanna do it as soon as possible, but I kinda wanna wait for the spring, too, you know? What do you think?”

Wide blue eyes blinked innocently at him, head cocked curiously to the side as she awaited his answer. While she’d been rambling, her eyes had dropped to his lips over and over again, but she did her best not to stare and to hold still, even though she really wanted to kiss him AGAIN. Her restraint faltered somewhere along the line, and she squirmed a little in his lap again, but hopefully that would just encourage him to squeeze her close again. “I’m sure you got plenty’a ideas too, right? We can do WHATEVER you wanna do. Except I’m wearin’ a dress — well, I mean. I really, really, REALLY wanna. If it’s okay with you.” 

[whatapunchline-blog]

     “Slow down, woman!” Joker chided her teasingly, reclining a little to look at her. “What’s the saying? All good things to those who wait.” He grinned, exposing teeth, and slipped into a seemingly thoughtful demeanour. As if he didn’t notice her squirming in his laps. “No, FIRST we have to settle another matter.”

At this he REALLY smiled, one of his patented ‘I’m so much smarter than you’ll ever be and even though I’m about to reveal it, you’ll never fully comprehend it’ smiles. He put one hand on the floor, casually pushing against it as he said, “Seeing as we’re  e n g a g e d,  things are going to change around here.” Oh he couldn’t wait to see her face when realisation dawned. Still, it wouldn’t do to rush. He had to..... SAVOUR the moment, as it were.  R e a l l y  let it sink in. “I’m not your average Joe, after all.” Heh. JOE. “No, if we’re going to get married, we need to do it RIGHT. Starting with the engagement.”

His free hand came up to press a finger against her forehead. “YOU,” he announced, keeping the glee from his voice, “will have to move.” Oh it was simply too hard, but he managed, keeping himself together to deliver the punchline. That was, after all, his favourite part. “We’re a little pressed for space right now, but maybe you can share the couch with Bud and Lou. They do so like to have company.” Just a liiiiiiiiittle bit longer. C’mon, Joker. You can do it. “And no funny business till the wedding. It’s tradition.”

[dcntcwnme-deactivated20200620]

    “Sorry,” she sighed again, wiggling closer, making herself comfortable in his lap, “I’m just EXCITED. This’s the best day.” If she noticed his discomfort, she ignored it in favor of cuddling up to him, preening under his gaze when he pulled her hand in to inspect her ring. “I didn’t say nothin’ about us that wasn’t TRUE, promise. Just how much I love ya an’ how excited I am to get married and how I wanna be with you FOREVER.” She smiled sweetly at him, gaze turning sheepish when she remembered the one teeny-tiny lie she’d included in that spiel. “Oh. And that you proposed last night. But you were gonna do it anyway so I guess that wasn’t really a big lie. Right?”

She didn’t expect him to agree with her on that front, but maybe he’d find her eagerness cute enough to let it slide — for now, at least. She wasn’t lying now, at any rate — that was what she’d said, and if he wanted to prove it to her, she’d do so gladly — though she’d probably have to hide some of the responses she’d gotten, in the interest of keeping him happy. But she could never keep anything big from him, so now that she’d started talking there was no STOPPING herself, the words spilling out as she explained, “An’ then when you were out I went and got this and it really was the prettiest one there and I thought it looked nice so I took it and put it on and — now we’re here.”

Again, she shot him a bright smile, mentally crossing her fingers and internally hoping that her explanation wouldn’t be what tipped him over the edge into anger. She knew it was a fine line she was walking right now — a game they were playing, even — and it was possible that he’d flip the switch and get angry at her for going behind his back at any moment. But the way she was seated right now felt so nice that she hoped they could keep it going for just a little bit longer.

Where was the crime in wanting to marry him, anyway? Shouldn’t he be flattered that she was so DEVOTED? How many of his friends could brag that they had someone who wanted to be with them forever? “Anyways, I was just gonna tell a couple’a people and then it got kinda out of hand… And now everyone knows. And I guess that’s it. Is that — is that okay?” she finished hesitantly, smile faltering momentarily with nervousness.

[whatapunchline-blog]

     “Oh Harley....” She really was something else. As much as he dreaded being married, he couldn’t deny relishing her seemingly boundless praise and unwavering affections. It just proved his unquestionable superiority, the otherworldly control he had over her. How thoroughly he’d wrapped her around his little finger. These days, she didn’t even bristle when he  s q u e e z e d.

It all served to put him in a better mood than he should have been in, given the situation at hand. Then again, she always DID know how to sweet-talk his ego. It was one of the main reasons he kept her around. “You scheming little minx.” He pinched her cheek affectionately, at this point no longer even feeling the aftershocks of his rage. “Did you come up with this all by yourself?”

He almost couldn’t believe it, had never thought her capable of this level of trickery and sheer GUTS, but it seemed she still had a few surprises for him in store. Regardless, it didn’t hurt to check. If she’d picked this little trick up from somewhere or someone else, he wanted to know. It would make him feel a lot better if he could squeeze the life out of SOMEONE.

Since the woman in his lap was off-limits for the moment, for reasons he neither understood nor questioned for fear of discovering the answer, he made do with digging his fingers into her waist just a little too forcefully to be sweet. “You’ll never let things get boring, will you?” he muttered, mostly to himself, and went in for the kill. Easing his grip with one hand, he lifted it towards her face and caught her chin between his fingers, angling it just right while he held her steadily in place. Then, his lips descended on hers.

He was no fumbling kid, and he knew what he was doing. He chose not to most of the time, but when he  d i d...... he knew Harley appreciated it. It was the ace up his sleeve that made for a comforting weight in his jacket, but he hardly ever had to play it. He didn’t now either: she wasn’t angry, she wasn’t threatening. He did it not because he HAD to. He did it because he liked to, and he liked to because it would make what would come next all that much sweeter.

He made sure to draw the kiss out, to put all the gentle assertion he could muster into it as he nipped her lips between his teeth and pulled her flush against him with his other arm. Absently, he hoped she appreciated his little performance to the fullest, because that would be the last she’d get from him for quite some time. After all, disobedience, while admittedly somewhat entertaining, HAD to be punished.

Pulling back, he watched her with a thoughtful expression, easing his grip on her noticeably as he said, “Now let’s talk about arrangements.”