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laughette-blog · 5 years

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isn't it rich? are we a pair? me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air. where are the clowns? isn't it bliss? don't you approve? one who keeps tearing around, one who can't move. where are the clowns? there ought to be clowns? just when i'd stopped opening doors finally knowing the one that i wanted was yours, making my entrance again with my usual flair, sure of my lines ━━━ no one is there. don't you love farce? my fault, i fear. i thought that you'd want what i want, sorry, my dear! 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚆𝙽𝚂 ? 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚆𝙽𝚂 . 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁, 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈'𝚁𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 !

#*// self-promo .#harley quinn rp #harleen quinzel rp #dc rp #how does one self promote

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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#*// noise.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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I don’t know the difference between what I want and what I’m trained to want. I can’t tell what I really want and what I’ve been tricked into wanting.

Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby (via disasturbating)

#* // text.#* // mindset.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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Basic Instinct (1992)

#* // image.#* // aesthetic.#bIG HARLEY MOOD #thAT S T ARE

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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"Target would be more interesting than here."

*/ THE BONE ORCHARD MEME : OPEN

❝ i’m sorry you feel that way. ❞ the doctor said, sounding like she didn’t mean it. like these were things people were supposed to say but that were MEANINGLESS in the real world. harleen always believed apologies to be weird little things. WORDS one was expected to accept in order to fix things. hammers and nails fix things, thought harley, not words, dummy. she leans a bit forward, crossing both arms over the table, as if she was about to reveal a secret to her patient. ❝ maybe i could give you something to help you pass the time. ❞

dr. quinzel said, no evidence of her accent audible around her suggestion. but there was something hidden there. a promise of a smile lingering at the end of her phrases ... something she’d have to learn to repress or her patient might get the idea that these therapy sessions were actually a GAME. even worse : a game in which he had a chance of winning. harley lifts a hand to undo the first couple of buttons of her lab coat, revealing a red shirt under it, like MUSCLES BENEATH PEELED SKIN. her pale hand snakes its’ way inside and, from right over her left inner breast pocket, she pulls out a small deck of cards, still resting in their unopened little card box. doctor quinzel holds them up between them. A PEACE OFFERING, she’d call it. others, however, might have called this A BRIBE. ❝ you go through this entire rorschach test without trying to deviate from my questions and i’ll give you a brand new deck for you to play with. ❞ harleen tilted her head to the side, eyeing the joker attentively. it was hard not to smile then. ❝ how does that sound? ❞ but she managed.

#bangflag #* // answered.#* // ic.#give that clown a card deck #bitches love cards

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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#* // image.#* // harleen.#* // mindset.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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"What's up, Doc?" 8)

there was a small tug on the corner of her mouth. the THREAT of a smile had lodged itself there ever since their first session. harleen had always had a disproportionate idea of how IMPORTANT HER ROLE WAS in the world. to this day she still ( somehow ) believed that during her second grade ballet recital the audience of adults had cheered and clapped for HER rather than their OWN children. after all she had been pretty good for a kid ‘n’ those other girls? couldn’t even do a twirl without smackin’ someone across the face! she deserved the applause. SHE had something in there worthy of praise. and her little celebrity patient , as infamous and unbalanced as he was, KNEW IT. otherwise she wouldn’t still be sitting there with every piece of flesh still attached to its proper place, right? he must have known. blue eyes lift from the joker’s file just once to grant him a side-eyed glance. one second of complicity. surely she can grant him that. nothing UNETHICAL in LOOKING at your patient. why, not doing so would have been darn-tootin’ rude ! ❝ nothing much. ❞ OH BOY , but her lips curl a bit further and her eyes linger there and dr. quinzel can’t help but feel as if someone might kick the door down any moment now and GRAB HER BY THE EAR. both of them remain on opposite sides of the table, secured and following protocol. there was no RED on her HANDS to get caught. harleen lowered her gaze, realizing she had been staring. the tip of her pen scratches over the date at the top of the page even though it was correct. get ya’self together ya big bimbo !

❝ what’s up with you? ❞

#bangflag #* // answered.#* // ic.#8'))))#get yaself together ya big bimbo inDEED

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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AMERICAN GODS SENTENCE STARTERS

episode one - the bone orchard. ( contains violence and nsfw themes )

❝ no expertise can surmount a sea that does not wish you to reach shore. ❞

❝ wind can be reasoned with. ❞

❝ celebration was cut short. ❞

❝ only good thing about being in prison is the relief. ❞

❝ tomorrow can’t do anything today hasn’t already managed. ❞

❝ this country went to hell when they stopped hanging folks. ❞

❝ no gallows dirt, no gallows deals. ❞

❝ you know, i’m not superstitious. ❞

❝ i don’t believe in anything i can’t see. ❞

❝ i feel like there’s a fuckin’ axe hanging over my head. i can’t see it, but i believe it. ❞

❝ i can see it fine. ❞

❝ prison has a way of trying to keep you in prison. ❞

❝ i smell snow. ❞

❝ i love you. something feels weird. ❞

❝ i love you too. what feels weird? ❞

❝ the air feels constipated, like if it’d just push out a storm, it’d be okay. ❞

❝ a hundred twenty hours till you’re home. ❞

❝ waiting for the sky to fall is gonna cause more bother than the sky actually falling. which it isn’t. ❞

❝ do not piss off those bitches in airports. ❞

❝ i guess this must be your lucky day, huh ? ❞

❝ you nervous ? ❞

❝ just sit back and be a bird. ❞

❝ i offer you the worm from my beak and you look at me like i fucked your mom ? ❞

❝ you’re just the first person i’ve met who isn’t an asshole. ❞

❝ give me time. ❞

❝ what would you have done, my boy ? ❞

❝ seems like a firm decision made for good reasons, i can respect that. ❞

❝ you lost something vital in there, and not just time. ❞

❝ what might i call you, if i were so inclined ? ❞

❝ always good to meet a fellow traveler. ❞

❝ i usually end up getting what i want. on average, over time. ❞

❝ it’s all about getting people to believe in you. it’s not their cash, it’s their faith. ❞

❝ now, what’s keeping us aloft ? faith ? or newton ? ❞

❝ don’t rush into this, take your time. ❞

❝ there’s always work for a big guy who’s smart enough to know he’s better off letting people think he’s dumb. ❞

❝ by the end of your tenure, you could be the next king of america. ❞

❝ a man gets out of prison, he should be focused above all on not going back. ❞

❝ believe. ❞

❝ i don’t think i have the talent for it. ❞

❝ you … like me ? ❞

❝ i’m not what i once was. ❞

❝ you’re perfect. ❞

❝ i don’t know what i’m doing. ❞

❝ what man does ? ❞

❝ do something for me. worship me. ❞

❝ worship me. pray to me like i’m your god. your goddess. ❞

❝ you feel so good. i could keep fucking you forever. ❞

❝ say my name. ❞

❝ beloved, i worship your breasts and your eyes and your cunt. and i worship your thighs and your eyes and your cherry red lips. ❞

❝ i am yours, my beloved. ❞

❝ go on, let go ! give me everything ! ❞

❝ i love you. ❞

❝ not that rushing into things can’t be a good thing … ❞

❝ sex rushed into tends to work out best for all involved. ❞

❝ okay, i’ve said ‘fuck off’ politely as many ways as i’m gonna. now i’m fixing to be direct. ❞

❝ what the fuck do you know about [ … ] ? ❞

❝ more than you, it seems. ❞

❝ i’m not gonna work for anyone who’s got worse luck than me. ❞

❝ call it. ❞

❝ rigged games are the easiest to beat. ❞

❝ you’re a little creepy, and you’re forward, and familiar, and i don’t like it. i don’t like you. ❞

❝ who’re you ? ❞

❝ i’m a leprechaun. ❞

❝ we don’t come from moscow, russia. or moscow, idaho, for that matter. ❞

❝ no details. ❞

❝ devil’s in the details. ❞

❝ do you know who he is ? who he really is ? ❞

❝ he’s hustling you. he’s a hustler. ❞

❝ damn right. i’m a hustler, swindler, cheater, and liar. it’s why i need assistance. ❞

❝ name your price. ❞

❝ how’d you do it ? ❞

❝ with panache. ❞

❝ simplest trick in the world. ❞

❝ i’ll fight you for it. ❞

❝ win or lose, and you will lose, it’s yours if you fight me. ❞

❝ can you feel the joy rising in your veins like the sap in the springtime ? ❞

❝ i wanted to be a part of your history. ❞

❝ it’s just anger ––– makes you feel like you can change the outcome. ❞

❝ [ … ] had the nerve to ask me what i wanted him to do with it. i told him leave it where it found it. ❞

❝ target would be more interesting than here. ❞

❝ if there isn’t some kinda life after death, i’m gonna be so fuckin’ pissed. ❞

❝ there is no closure from the dead. ❞

❝ i’m sorry for your loss, [ … ] , i really am. anyone tell you that yet ? anyone even hug you ? ❞

❝ hear me out, this is a good one. lex talionis. an eye for an eye. a blowjob for a blowjob. ❞

❝ jesus, who knew i could be so angry ?! ❞

❝ i am trying to get my dignity back here ! ❞

❝ don’t fuck with me, [ … ] ❞

❝ what’s he doing here ? what’s the plan ? what’s the game plan, man ? ❞

❝ how auspicious, you must be special. ❞

❝ [ … ] is history. forgotten and … old. ❞

❝ we have reprogrammed reality. language is a virus. religion, an operating system, and prayers are just so much fucking spam. ❞

❝ the dominant fucking paradigm, [ … ] , that is the only important thing. ❞

❝ by the way, i was sorry to hear about your wife/husband. tough break. ❞

❝ so, i will ask again: what is it [ … ] is up to ? ❞

❝ you saying you don’t know ? … would you tell me even if you did ? ❞

#* // meme.#henlo friends

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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Violent Femmes - Gone Daddy Gone

#*// noise.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992) dir. David Lynch

#* // image.#* // mindset.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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laughite‌:

𝐸𝑌𝐸𝑆 𝐹𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐾𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺 – 𝐷𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 the way a clock’s eyes pace the room on the tick ! tock ! tick ! tock ! to snarl ? to gnash his teeth ? sharp angled crooked little juts of bone , the only piece of a skeleton exposed to the open air. to sit in suffocating , dream crushing silence and watch as the good doc shows a strong face. b o r i n g nothing fun in the tough line of her jaw. is that a clenching he sees ? is that a twitching muscle ? bright eyes vacant , oh to have excitement , even one so repressed as her , to watch it fade to a ill-disguised boredom. to tap his fingers ? to look away? to feign a slinking exhaustion ? ( his eyes are red , it’s true ! but lack of sleep feels like adrenaline in his veins , but doc ! the hands always shake i swear ! ) a line of bodies , a street of grafitti , people shouting his name. steady hands.

collective hours of silence but for their breaths intermingling in the air , ( oh doc , why , that’s almost intimate. the rattle of the half dead a/c unit in it’s death throws and the gentle exhales of breath shared from across a table. the only people in the world for the way they’re shut together. TELL ME DOC , TELL ME QUICK: am i locked in here ? or are you ? ) but for the sound of his cuffs and their meddling chains rattling against his every move. but for the way the good doc shifts. she’d asked a question hadn’t she ? at some point ? in the beginning maybe , when her voice had been exactly what he’d expected , her hair so straight and sleek like even it was afraid of a little c h a o s . to stare her down ? to stab her with the pen tucked oh-so-carefully into the clipboard ? 𝑇𝑂 𝑆𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐸 𝐴𝑇 𝐻𝐸𝑅 lips stretch into a grin , slow and steady wins the race ! cracked skin splits and he yearns for the feeling of grease paint to slick the way when his tongue darts out to lick over the harsh texture of scars. MULTIPLE CHOICE ! finger’s play over the metal table , bolted down tight , they’d been good to him. poor catatonic ole’ joker , dead eyes , dead tongue , a weight in his mouth like lead. like a bullet , forget silver : his mouth was a weapon. every few taps his nail struck the table with force. hand taps a gallows jig on cool steel , eyes studied the line of her shoulders. would she jump ? would she flinch ? would she smile ? voice a slithering snake , voice a worm wriggling in the dirt , voice some burrowing dark eyed thing. “ is this going as well as you hoped ? “ a simple question , a digging hook. “ it’s our anniversary doc. “

@laughette a not-so-plotted starter.

tick-tock , tick-tock, tick-tock. disappointment settled across her chest when realizing that time hadn’t stopped. that today was destined to be a day like all others. cramped into a box with a man that simply wasn’t there. blue eyes calmly shifted their attention away from the small wrist watch’s numbers to focus on the cuffed down patient. his hands wouldn’t manage to show her anything. not when they were bound to metal like that. dr. quinzel had considered several times to SET HIM LOOSE. get the keys from the staff room, wait until their next session, walk right up next to him early in the morning and unlock his cuffs. the results would be CATASTROPHIC ; possibly FATAL ... but anything would be better than this. to die a violent death at the hands of the joker would be preferable to giving up on their therapy session plan and admitting defeat. harleen notices she’s been staring at her patient’s hands for too long. she adjusts her glasses and looks him in the eye again.

they’ve been doing this little dance of theirs for months now. it had been the exact same routine ever since they had first met. dr. quinzel would walk in, greet him, sit down and ask him a question. the joker would not answer. and that would be fine, because harleen would ask him something else. sometimes she’d show him a couple of pictures, a couple of cards. other times she’d share something mundane about herself in hopes of gaining the clown’s trust. but he never TOOK THE BAIT. never once did he lean in closer or tug at his chains. didn’t open his mouth or shake his head, didn’t even grant her a shrug. patient 25602 simply stared her down ... like he was M O C K I N G her. challenging her to be GOOD ENOUGH of a doctor to get ANYTHING out of him. and harleen could never resist a good dare. so she stuck around. the questions became fewer. her attempts at reaching out less invasive. for the last few weeks, the blonde did little more than sit down in front of the joker and WAIT. rhythm drops from the tip of his fingers. nails tapping against the desk remind harleen of the clicking of a rollercoaster’s tracks. a climb that takes longer than it should. an anticipation for a drop that could KILL. his lips part. the carnival goers hold their breath and raise their hands. harleen feels like she could S C R E A M. she raised her brow instead. he had spoken to her. for the first time in three months, the joker had actually said something.

dr. quinzel sits up straighter and hates how SURPRISED she must look. like she’s some dumb rookie on her first rodeo ; get a freakin’ grip harley ! don’t screw this up ! -------- ❝ a bit slower than expected, i’ll admit. ❞ dr. quinzel grabbed her pen to write down on her clipboard the date and first words her patient had spoken to her. her letters are illegible, her hand shakes. the excitement that CLAWED through her veins threatened to break through the skin and SPILL OVER. ❝ didn’t realize you were counting. ❞ she mentioned, hand pressed against the clipboard, writing each letter slowly now. ❝ were you hoping to celebrate the occasion? ❞

#laughite #* // laughite : 01 #* // v01 : beautiful girl lovely dress !#harley @ herself : B COOL U GOT THIS #joker : talks #harley : ...wow wtf

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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The way cables pull aside a theatre curtain, your every smile is an opening night. A premiere. You unveiling yourself.

Chuck Palahniuk, Diary (via liquidlightandrunningtrees)

#* // text.#* // mindset.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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River of Grass (Kelly Reichardt, 1994)

#* // image.#* // aesthetic.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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harleen has always enjoyed attention. ever since she was a little girl she felt as if she was owed a place under the spotlight. but her parents always relied on her to be the perfect child. good grades, good hair, good manners, GOOD EVERYTHING. and, for some reason, the pats on the back she got from being the perfect little girl didn’t satisfy her HUNGER for recognition. her brother was a little beast and occasionally got grounded and shouted at ... and she envied him PROFOUNDLY. there’s always been something a bit off about harleen. she manipulates people. she knows how to charm others. knows how to play dumb when she needs to and has no qualms in doing whatever she needs to get where she wants to go. there’s an obsessive side to her that has been searching, ever since she was six years old, for that feeling of SATISFACTION she has never had. how high must she climb up the ladder to feel complete? how many zeroes does her paycheck need to have to feel fulfilled? harleen doesn’t know. so she keeps pushing forward, nudging and stepping on whoever she needs to to reach her final goal ; HAPPINESS.

her colleagues believe her to be a serious and dedicated professional. but harleen’s competitive nature is FAR from healthy. and although she plays the part of serious psychiatrist perfectly, it’s all an act. harley changes the moment she steps out of arkham. she laughs too loudly and stares at people for too long. there is something wrong with harleen quinzel.

don’t trust her lies.

#*// headcanon.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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#*// noise.

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laughette-blog · 6 years

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