Authors Note: Hey kiddos!

I took a break from 1000 ways to die to write this lil fic (sorry not sorry). I felt like spending sometime with the clowns later on in their relationship, so technically this occurs in the same continuity as my other fics. This one is pretty much all finished, it just needs some house-keeping so I'll be posting chapters a lot more frequently than usual (granted those chapters are also a lot shorter than usual, and there's only about 3 of them).

Also, I'm going to include a little analysis of our main characters and their relationships. Obviously this ship gets a lot of hate which I think is quite unjustified- this is fiction. Liking fiction that depicts bad people and bad things doesn't make you a bad person, and it doesn't mean that you condone those things. One of my favourite movies is silence of the lambs, but I doubt any of you think that means I'm cool with cannibalism- its as simple as that!

Still though, I write about some disturbing things that I think can very easily be misconstrued- especially because I use a first person narrative and my characters are at best biased, and at worst they're liars. I'm a bisexual person whose been questioning their cis identity- obviously issues of gender and sexual equality are extremely important to me but here I am writing a heterosexual ship that a lot of people see as abusive and likely sexist. I'm not going to contest that many canon depictions of this pairing are abusive, but I am trying to write something a bit different, and I thought I would take the time to discuss my approach with you guys.

If you're interested in reading my little analysis, it will be in the notes at the bottom of this chapter. Otherwise, read on, enjoy, and let me know what you think!

WARNINGS: implied suicide attempt, violence, and probably other disturbing content as well. Oh also sexual themes (don't get too excited)

Mr. Nice Guy: Chapter 1

Harley-March 3rd, 11:25 pm

"This isn't the end of the world! You'll get over that creep eventually and you'll find someone new."

A violent gasp cuts my wail I lift my dripping face from her shoulder with an expression of scornful indignation.

"No I won't Red!" My voice is shrill and panicked, and she cringes. "I ain't ever gonna find a man like him again-"

"That's a good thing-"

"NO IT AIN'T!"

"Well you like girls too! You should-"

"IT AINT ABOUT HIS DICK, PAMELA!" I'm so furious I think I just spat- then I realize what I said and I falter with half a giggle. "Not that it ain't amazing, god it's the most beautiful-"

"I don't need to know! Why the fuck would you think I want to hear about his pencil dick?"

"I dunno Red," I giggle again, whipping my nose to avoid an impending snot bubble. "but I ain't ever seen a pencil like that."

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY? For the love of god Harley, spare me- I already have to deal with your fucking hysterics!"

"I ain't hysterical I'm heartbroken- I lost everything Red, he was my everything! Ever since he shoved me out that door every breath I take hurts, it burns me. Every fucking second I'm awake is excruciating, it's like torture and when I fall asleep, I dream about him and the pain is so much worse when I wake up because it's fresh. It's like the world is rejecting me Red, he was my purpose! Fuck men- there's no other person on earth like him! Oh my god, Pammy I'm so screwed, I can't survive this, I can't do it again, I can't," I'm full on hyperventilating now, the room is spinning, godamn it-

"I CAN'T!" The tears burst out again and I can't fucking breathe, I can't do this, I can't-

"Calm down, Harley." Her voice is stone cold and she's shaking me by the arms but my vision is funnelling down and I'm spiralling, pulling away because I can't handle this, this is the fucking end- "HARLEY!" Her hand cracks against my cheek and I crash back into myself with a gasp. This time the misery drowns me completely and I slump against Ivy to let the tears roll through me. She sighs, and her body softens as she wraps her arms around me to pet my hair.

"Ok, shhhh…. You're ok, baby, I've got you."

For some reason, Ivy's affection makes my heart clench, and my next sob is particularly forceful. I give in to the desolation and Ivy holds me the whole time as I shake and cry like a child, like a junkie. She grips me tight, holds me together until the tears dry up and my eyes are puffy and raw. I don't feel better- not even a little, but I'm exhausted and dehydrated, so I don't say anything when Ivy stands and carries me to bed.

She sits me down and asks me something, but I can't bring myself to move or even respond because he doesn't want me anymore, I'm done, I'm nothing… I'm barely aware of Ivy's grumbles as she lifts my arms to help me undress and I don't bother to help as she wrestles me into my pajamas.

"If I leave, are you going to do something stupid?"

After last time I bet she'll have hidden anything sharp or poisonous, but she knows how creative I am and I know I can't lie to her. So I nod my head and she sighs, crawling under the covers beside me. I curl up against her because it's all I can do and I think I might start crying again- like clockwork the first parched tear falls and Ivy runs her fingers up and down on the back of my neck.

"I'm going to fix this, Harley, I promise." Her tone sends a little jolt of panic through my chest, and its enough to bring my words back.

"Please don't try to kill him, Red." My voice is weak but the pathos is clear, and she grumbles.

"I'll find you someone else. I hate to have to say it but not all human men are as bad as him." I don't have the energy to argue with her anymore, so I just focus on the feeling of her hands in my hair. "It doesn't have to be like that- it can be so much better! You deserve better."

"No."

"Yes you do, don't be ridiculous. But think about it, how many serious relationships did you have before him? None. You told me last time- friends with benefits don't count. So how can you know that he was the best? You haven't tried anybody else!"

"Stop."

"No! I can't keep seeing you like this Harley, it's awful." Her hands move from my hair to tilt my face up. "You're my best friend." Her usually smooth voice wavers on my name and my eyes open on reflex to find her blinking away what looks to be a single tear. "Please, you scare me when you're like this."

Holy shit- I've only ever seen her cry about plants! Usually ones that I'd accidentally killed, but still.

"M'sorry!" Fuck, now she has me crying again and I feel even worse for making Ivy sad by being sad, this is just a rabbit hole of awful. To my horror she shakes her head, and the dismissal is like a punch to the gut.

"Sorry doesn't mean anything unless you do something about it."

"I can't just stop loving him!"

"I'm not asking you to! But you will get over him eventually; all I want right now is for you to promise you'll go on one date and give it an honest try."

"A date with you?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. You know I don't subscribe to that kind of commercialized mating ritual- I want to set you up."

"Nooo…" I groan, dropping my head down again.

"Yes." She growls. "If you can't promise to try, then I can't promise that he'll be breathing tomorrow."

Fuck she's serious- a frigid weight drops into my stomach, and a ragged sob rips from my throat.

"Pammy, please, ok? I promise, I'm sorry-" The tears overwhelm me again, and this time she pulls me closer, squeezing me so that I don't shake so much.

"That's ok, baby, all I needed was that promise and you made it." She brushes a bit of hair back from my face and presses her lips to my forehead. "That's all I needed."

I can honestly say that I completely forgot about the promise after that night- I'd cried myself to sleep in her arms and then I'd woken up to spend the better part of the next month in bed. Ivy brought me food and forced me to clean myself, but all my favorite foods reminded me of him, and the stab of loss unflinchingly rendered me nauseous. Everything reminded me of him and the whole world felt like an assault. I wasn't getting over him- I think I feel even more for him, and the pain of having lost him forces me to hope that he might want me back someday.

I needed a light at the end of the tunnel; I'm afraid I might go blind in this relentless darkness.

So at some point around the seven-week mark, I decided that if he did come for me I was going to be ready. My first outing was to Ivy's lab down the hall, and she was so surprised to see me vertical that she didn't even slap me for sitting on a chrysanthemum. For a while she let me "help" her- usually menial tasks like washing test tubes or turning soil- but that didn't last long because that shit is boring and it turns out I'm not great at boring things. Who'd a' thunk it?

So yeah, I'm not allowed in the lab anymore.

That's ok though, I found other things to do. I got a fake I.D, joined a gym, pulled a couple small heists to get the blood pumping, and- ok I might have killed a few people. But it wasn't my fault; it's just that I can't stand P.D.A! Honestly, it's practically public service- all that smoochy, lovey-dovey coupleness is fucking inconsiderate. Oh, and I made a hell of a lot of grilled cheese. I ate them too, with hot sauce, because the thought of him didn't hurt so much anymore. Sure, I still had a good cry every night but his absence was softened by a growing faith in his return- if not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow then the next day- it didn't matter when, only that I knew he would need me again, and I'd wait a thousand years if I had to. So yes, I've been feeling better not fixed, but good enough to eat, smile, and wash my hair.

Maybe that's why Ivy thought today was a good day to spring the news on me.

"I found someone." Her tone is carefully controlled; artificially informal as she passes me a steaming mug of something that smells truly awful- I swear her tea obsession will be the death of me.

"Good for you Red," I'm only half listening, pretending to sip the pungent tisane while I scan the funnies. "As a psychiatrist I gotta' say I just don't think it's very healthy to spend all your time with plants. Well, and me, but-"

"As a psychiatrist you started a sexual relationship with your most volatile patient, forgive me if I don't take your opinion seriously." I take a peek in my periphery and I find her aggressively stirring her own cup of stink. "And I meant that I found someone for you."

Right.

"I ain't interested." I'm about to flip the page- Garfield just isn't doing it for me today, but Ivy rips the paper out of my hands before I have a chance. She's breathing through her nose in a huffy way, and the Ficus next to the couch is starting to squirm. Geez I should probably try to take this seriously-

"Oh!" She throws her free hand up, expression incredulous, and the potted bamboo on the coffee table lurches threateningly. "Well in that case I'm no longer interested in keeping my promise."

That is not good, very not good-

"Ivy-" Oh god she's putting down her mug, abandoned tea is a sign of impending violence. "What did I say?" I vault over the back of the couch to follow her from the living room, tripping over the creepers that snag around my ankles. "Red, please, whatever it is-"

"You promised! That first night when you came back you promised you would try, Harley!" She whirls back to face me, and the wisteria decorating the walls surges forward to wrap around my arms and immobilize me. "You make me feel like an idiot sometimes, you know that?" She shakes her head, pretty features twisted in a revulsion that coils around my stomach. "I believed you, I can't believe I-"

Oh shit, ok whatever I did, I need to backtrack fast.

"Pammy," I keep my eyes wide and my tone high and soft. "Please just tell me what I did and I'll fix it ok? Just tell me."

"You don't remember." She crosses her arms but the local greenery stills substantially.

"No, I don't. And I really am sorry, I would never knowingly break a promise to you, you know that right?" Ivy narrows her eyes, pursing her lips. "Just give me a chance, Pammy."

She stares at me for a long time before her shoulders slump and she raises a hand to wipe it over her eyes.

"You agreed to let me set you up with someone who might actually come close to deserving you," Well that doesn't sound like me- "and I agreed to let him keep his big ugly head."

Harley you dumb bitch.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Shit.

"I'd just like to point out that I was in a state of extreme distress that night-not at all in my right mind, so-"

"I'm not a Judge, Harley," She barks. "you can't claim insanity on this, and if you try to back out, I swear to Gaia-"

"Ok!" I squeak. "Ok, I'm sorry, I'll do it! I'd pinky promise you if my hands weren't tied."

Her eyes flick to my wrists like she's only just noticed the botanical bondage, and seconds later the vines loosen enough to release me. She doesn't say anything, but she does step forward to inspect the resulting scratches.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper." It's almost a growl but it puts a smile on my face.

"I'm sorry I almost broke my promise." Actually, I'm sorry I made a promise I really don't want to keep- but she doesn't need to know that. "So… who's the lucky guy?"

"Devin Delguissi- I've vetted him thoroughly."

Joker- March 4th, 2:53pm

"Hey boss- um… I think you might want to see this."

When the Kid says that, I listen- I don't often employ scrawny sixteen-year olds, but when I do, they're exceptionally good coders with a surprising affinity for nun-chucks. He's not grinning, which means it isn't a picture of batman tripping on his cape- I had that one printed and framed. No, no, he looks nervous.

"Gimme the goods." I wave him over to my desk, and he hustles forward to set his laptop down in front of me…Ok cupid? "What the f-"
I register the photo on the page and I'm on my feet in a second. "Is that REAL?" He looks like he's going to swallow his tongue. "Oh don't choke yourself- when was it made?"

"A few hours ago!" Squawks the Kid.

Ridiculous, Stupid little- Can't even think- how DARE she? I put her on HOLD! This is absolutely-

"Oh, she's gonna get it."

"Are you going after her? I can probably trace the-"

"No, I'm not going to attack her- I'm going to teach her a lesson."

"Uh…" He's blushing.

"Not that kind of lesson- and by the way you're a little pervert, if you ever imply something like that again, I'll castrate you-" I jab my finger at him and the graphics on his blade runner t-shirt go concave- that's fun. "But I digress, you're going to make me a profile."

"As…?"

"I haven't decided yet, would you back off?" I flap a hand at the door but he doesn't have my attention anymore- I'm already turning away "Go find something to do and wait until I need you."

This plan started percolating the moment I realized exactly what the offending page meant- Harley is trying to get over me.

I don't like that- no, I don't like it at all. Even if I don't want her right this moment, she still belongs to me- and for that matter, I'm honestly shocked that she thinks she can go back to whole-wheat after wonder-bread. Even if it weren't for the obvious downgrade in flavour, she's just so easily bored; she needs a shakeup to stay interested, that's why we work! I'm about as stable as a roller coaster and she's got the attention span of a goldfish.

Not that she deserves me, absolutely not.

But I will admit to a sort of…compatibility. Mutualism, if you will. Harley gets everything out of me- honestly; she's like a leech- but she makes an attempt to pay for it in snacks, slapstick and servility- not to mention the incessant praise, which is almost as refreshing as it is annoying. What? My act gets more screams than applause, is it so terrible that I might appreciate a bit of adulation every once and a while? As much as it begrudges me to admit, she almost gets it- not like Batsy gets it, but then he doesn't get that he gets it, so I suppose it's a moot point.

Still! She should get this.

How can she not know? In what world could she convince herself that this is acceptable behavior? This isn't part of the game; she can't just walk off the board, and no, I don't have the highest expectations for her but this is basic- this is elementary, grade one, rookie round! And I've seen what she turns into when I'm not around- it's actually quite delicious in a revolting way. She disintegrates, breaks completely with tangible reality and falls into a void until I care to come pull her out again. Maybe I will, and maybe I won't- but I want the option.

And here she is, less than a day after I dropped her, taking it away. Or maybe she isn't. Because the thing is I don't have the highest expectations for her. I saw her last night, she was a hot mess- it was beautiful! It was a month of recovery at least, because Harley doesn't bounce back. Not unless I'm around.

No, I am absolutely certain that Harley did not make that account, and that's where things get interesting. The picture is recent- you can tell because she's got that little scar on her eyebrow from last valentines day- and her hair is down so Pammy must have taken it. More than that, I'd be willing to bet my prize Bat glove- an invaluable souvenir, just so we're clear- that Pammy made the profile too, and I doubt she'll tell Harls about it until the last minute. No, she'll be using her superior intellect to select a suitor- clearly Harley has horrible taste- we wouldn't want to trust a grown woman to make her own choices, now would we? This just gets better and better, and I know exactly how to play this- but first things first, I need a name.

Who am I, who am I… gotta be Mr. Nice guy, gotta be harmless, inoffensive hypoallergenic and organic for the bush, but Harley needs danger so I'll be the devil in disguise. I'll be Devin Degul…isis? Nope, that'll get me on a watch list. Devin… Gluedsisi- nada. Delussigi, Legudissi, Siguidels...Delguissi?

Devin Delguissi is the devil in disguise.

Not bad at all- incredibly Italian but that shouldn't be an issue unless itchy bitchy decides to racially profile me as a mobster.

Next question: who is Devin Delguissi? He needs to please Ivy on paper but Harley in person, he needs to be both the earth-licking, socially conscious door mat, and- well, me. That's all Harley really wants, it doesn't matter what package I'm in- but that's the easy part; fungal fanny is the discerning one. So Devin Delguissi… goes tree planting, that's obvious. He probably heads some sort of environmental conservation committee in his free time, and he's… a professor- oh that's good, very respectable and bound to get Harley going. But he doesn't do research- Ivy had that whole issue with her thesis supervisor. No, Devin teaches… gender and women's studies. No that's too much- he teaches one class through the history department, and that class is a history of the witch-hunts. Which means that he knows an awful lot about torture. I won't put that part on the profile.

He's a considerate man, reserved, maybe a little bit awkward, comes from an upper-middle class, over-achieving family of academics- yeah, we're getting somewhere.

I'll make up the rest as I go, I need to start creating. So I get the Kid to starting working on Mr. Delguissi's online presence to my very detailed specifications. Mister D- HA! Oh that is priceless, I'll be Mistah D.

Not on task.

Right, time to mobilize an image team- which means I send muscle to kidnap some special effects make up artists and have them make prosthetics to hide my more prominent facial features. Then I go to my tailor and I have him make a couple suits in browns and tweeds with elbow patches and sleeves that are just a little bit too short. I pair them with normal boring bowties in a variety of greens. Speaking of greens, I grab my wig guy and he gets me something tousled but tame in a reddish brunette. I give my visible bits a tan in pale peach with a liberal coating of pancake makeup, and I pop in some darker green contacts to dull my eyes. Once the get up is complete, I take pictures for the Ok Stupid profile and the GCU faculty page and now that they're up, Devin Delguissi looks like a real boy.

After that I wait as the kid weaves his way into the dating site's database to find Harley and match us, and it doesn't take long for the Venus guy-trap to take a snap. So we're off! Thus begins two months of wooing Ivy- ugh doesn't that feel icky to say.

I ease her into things with stories about the various environmental crusades of my youth and eventually I open up about my bipolar mother who I've been nursing through the highs and lows since I was a child. I added that part because she seemed to be looking for some evidence of empathic stamina, she wanted to know if Devin could handle Harley- which would be an understandable concern for anyone else- I can more than handle her.

Which is why- whatever, nevermind.

I don't mention the gender and women's course because Devin wouldn't want to come off as a mansplainer; he leaves that for Ivy to find when she inevitably googles him. He's doing well, I can tell, but she just keeps grilling- I can't imagine anyone else sticking it out for this asinine interrogation but I am fairly entertained and the bottomless 20 questions is really helping with character development. The cherry on top is the fact that she reveals herself in the end; she comes right out and declares herself a concerned friend Hailey's. Unsurprisingly she neglects to apologize for the psychotic skullduggery and moves on to a list of requirements should I still be crazy enough to court Mrs. Gwynn.

Yes you heard that right, Hailey Gwynn.

Perfect gentleman that he is, Devin waxes poetic about how heartwarming it is that Ivy cares enough about her dear friend to put all this time into finding her a date. He vows propriety, decency and respectful distance- he even asks about Hailey's dietary restrictions before venturing to suggest a restaurant and he makes damn sure that the place buys their broccoli from a sustainable farmer.

All that's left to do is set a date! Devin you sly dog- does it count as a double if both of you are actually two different people?

I'll have to ask Harv.

Authors Notes round two: Character analysis time!

To start us off I'd like to say that I am a feminist!

That means that I believe men and women should have equal rights, not that men are shit or that women should have more rights than men- just equal. I'm bringing this up because this fic deals fairly flippantly with gender and orientation related issues, and I just want to be clear that the views expressed are the characters views and not mine (In Jokers case he might not even be expressing his own views). I do think that classical, heteronormative (the expectation that straightness is the default sexual orientation) gender roles can be harmful (ex. women are submissive, soft, wear makeup, men are dominant, logical, and can never wear skirts) when they are an expectation. I do not think it is anti-feminist to engage in those roles if you are making an educated choice about it- that is, you can know that women are not in fact inferior to men, but you can still choose to act out an inferior role in a relationship with a male partner, and this does not make you less of a feminist. I believe that equality means that all women (as in all people who identify as women) should be able to choose whatever roles or forms of expression they enjoy, whether or not those are traditionally considered "feminine" or have been enforced by patriarchal social structures. Those roles are only harmful when women are socially penalized for not adhering to them- the same goes for male gender roles.

That's my brand of feminism- Ivy's is different.

My Ivy is not an anti-hero or a man-hater, but she is deeply detached from humanity which reduces her capacity for accurate social understanding. As a result she has a tendency to project her own beliefs and experiences onto other people. Being the only human that Ivy gives a shit about, Harley is especially susceptible to that, and given that Ivy has a history of trauma at the hands of a male abuser (Jason Woodrow) I don't think it's particularly surprising that she might have an overly-generalized and predominantly negative view of men, or that she might see her own trauma in Harley's relationship. Ivy also considers herself to be morally and intellectually superior to all humans (she does not identify as human) so she has a tendency to devalue Harley's opinion. All that said, I love Ivy- surprise, surprise, I like flawed people! I love her passion and her begrudging affection for Harley.

Moving on!

I think that Harley's feminism is fairly similar to mine: she doesn't think that women were made to serve men, but she enjoys engaging in a relationship with a consensually unequal power dynamic. It's a choice- or at least it is in my writing. As I said earlier, I'm not going to make any statements about canon because there are about a million conflicting characterizations for any given character, and some depictions of this relationship are definitely abusive. The relationship that I'm trying to write here is meant to be more representative of a 24/7 BDSM relationship that follows RACK guidelines- that is, the violence (physical and verbal) within the relationship is mutually consensual and not coercive. Abuse can exist in BDSM relationships if either partner is being coerced into acts that they truly do not wish to take part in.

To be clear, I would not consider a real life relationship that regularly endangers the life of one or both partners to be healthy. That said, fiction is fun because it allows us to caricature and exaggerate things, to explore extremes of emotion and experience that are nearly impossible in real life. Honestly, I think the grand majority of fictional relationships are unhealthy- we idealize co-dependence and sexualized conflict without thinking about what it means. Joker and Harley represent an exaggerated BDSM dynamic in the same way that Romeo and Juliet represent exaggerated love in general- most people wouldn't be willing to actually die for their partner, but it's still considered a classic love story. If we want to talk about unhealthy I'd just like to remind you all that Juliet was thirteen and Romeo was in his twenties, and they only knew each other for about four days before they decided to commit suicide together.

And now the infamous Mr J, who is probably the reason I felt the need to write this in the first place.

He has been called many things over the years and a lot of those things are true- however, I would not consider him a misogynist. To be honest I don't necessarily consider him straight or cis either- lets unpack this shall we? The thing about the Joker is that he transcends social conditioning, he resists cultural pressure to conform- he just doesn't give a shit what people think of him (most of the time). Realistically identity labels don't mean much to him- that doesn't negate their importance to other people, it's just that he sees them as limiting. If you were to ask him about his gender and sexual orientation, his honest answer (which he would never give you) is that he is a clown and a sado-masochist. In functional terms I consider him non-binary (using male pronouns) and pansexual.

However, Joker likes social control; He likes to be able to manipulate beliefs and expectations, and some of the easiest expectations to manipulate are those we have about gender and sexuality. I could probably cite a million examples of him doing this in the comics, but like I said I'm only addressing my versions of the characters so I'll stick to that. The point here is that people are uncomfortable when they can't categorize someone, and I think he's very conscious of that. He makes use of the assumptions we have about masculinity and heterosexual relationships to craft his public persona, but he doesn't believe that they have any power or legitimacy aside from the importance we give them as a society. To be honest, I think part of his resistance to Harley is that he sees a heterosexual relationship with a pretty girl as too conventional, although this changes over the course of the relationship as he realizes how disturbed people are by them.

And that's the other thing: people are disturbed by them. They are seen as unhealthy, and abusive and every other horrible thing under the sun, and they both know that. Just as Joker plays with expectations about gender and sexuality, they both play with expectations about their relationship to the point that it's become a comedy bit for them. They play Lucy and Ricardo with blood and guns instead of show tunes and bongo drums.

So yeah, that's about it for my little spiel. In conclusion all is not what it seems, and I'm trying to write something that moves away from the abuse narrative while keeping the characters as they are, and without removing the conflict from the relationship. As a last note, I would like to invite you to message me if you were confused about any of the terms used here. If people don't know what I mean by " a 24/7 BDSM relationship with RACK guidelines", I would be happy to write a little note explaining that too.

I hope this has been a useful explanation!

Much love to you all,

XoXo, Sewer-Angel