138A/N: Timeline-wise, this one picks up right after chapter 7.
Also, parts of it are NSFW, and/or NSFC. C being class. Don't read porn at school, kids.
Warnings/tags for this chapter include: somebody's wasted, pharmaceutical plot device, Joker is a drama queen, buzzed driving is drunk driving so don't do it because you're not Batman, weird arguments, sorry if you were rooting for bondage, #AndThenItDevolvedIntoPorn.
So, basically, it's the same cracktasticness you've come to know and love.
Enjoy :)
BONUS CHAPTER 2: If The Tumbler's A-Rockin'...
Fire trucks and cop cars were swarming like ants around the inferno Batman and Joker had left behind, turning the streets of the Narrows into a sea of flashing red and blue lights. There was a very real risk of getting into a Smokey-and-the-Bandit-style chase with a conga line of cop cars behind him, but Batman avoided that by carefully sticking to the alleys and keeping the Tumbler in stealth mode as he headed for their next destination.
Still, the overabundance of lights and sirens made what should've been a four-minute drive take fifteen. Although, five minutes of that delay were because Joker decided to pop open Batman's 'rape panel' while he was driving, which resulted in an attempted blowjob, an embarrassing crash into a street-sweeper, and…
"C'mon Bats, this stopped being funny ten minutes ago."
Batman glanced over, smirking. "Not from where I'm sitting."
Joker was on his knees in the passenger seat, facing backwards, with his hands firmly zip-tied to the posts of the headrest. His trench coat was pushed aside and his boxers were around his ankles.
"Maybe you should, uh, quit lookin' and start touching, hmmm?" He wiggled his bare ass in Batman's direction.
"You're being punished, remember?"
Joker licked at his scars, glaring daggers at the zip ties around his wrists.
"Punishment's supposed to hurt."
"Nah. You'd like that too much."
Joker huffed, and asked, "You gonna at least tell me where we're going?"
"We're here," Batman said, parking in a deserted alley next to an apartment building.
"Here where? Where are you going?" Joker demanded.
Batman opened the door and started to get out, leaving Joker tied up where he was.
"I need to talk to Gordon."
"Right now?"
"Yes, right now… Don't go anywhere," he teased, smacking Joker's bare ass before climbing out of the Tumbler, ignoring his captive's protests and locking him inside.
Batman climbed up the apartment building's fire escape, stopping just outside of the window he knew was Gordon's. He peered inside the dark living room and saw Gordon sitting on the sofa holding a large bottle. Batman briefly activated the cowl's night-vision feature to make sure Gordon really was alone in the room. In a room down the hall, it looked like the kids had fallen asleep next to their mother in her bed. Satisfied, Batman switched his vision back to normal.
Then he took a deep breath, and knocked.
Gordon jumped, his head snapping towards the window.
For a second, Gordon and Batman looked at each other in silence. Then, with a snort, Gordon stood up and stumbled his way to the window, clutching the mostly-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
Batman glanced at the bottle, concerned. If it had started out full, then the commissioner must've raced straight home and chugged the stuff. And if so, hello alcohol poisoning. Hopefully Gordon was smarter than that.
Gordon reluctantly set the bottle down on the window ledge, and used both hands to open the window. Gordon forced it up halfway before suddenly stopping, looking horrorstruck, and asking, "You're alone, right?"
Batman nodded, trying not to wince as Gordon's 90-proof breath stung his eyes.
Gordon relaxed and opened the window the rest of the way.
"Well move over so I can geddout there," he slurred, lifting one leg towards the window ledge and nearly falling over. "Whoops," he laughed.
"Maybe you should stay inside," Batman suggested. Heavy drinking and fire escapes don't really mix, and Batman wasn't in the mood to jump off any more buildings tonight. This morning, technically. Whatever.
Gordon pointed his index finger in Batman's face. "You," he said, "are smart."
"You're drunk."
"'Cause you were kissin the fuggin' Joker!" Gordon exclaimed, snatching the bottle back up for another drink.
"Say it a little louder, I don't think you woke your kids up yet."
"Don'you dare bring my kids inna this! An' you better keep your fuggin' boyfriend away from 'em!"
"He is not my boyfriend!" Batman didn't know what the term was for what they were, but he knew that wasn't it.
"Oh, well escuuuuuse me," Gordon slurred. "Y' only yelled for the whole street'ta hear that ya fucked him, and 'e had a damn bat symbol drawn on 'is unnerwear, an' you couldn't seem'ta get enougha kissin' him. But forgive me for being presooma—prozumpsis—pressumstitious—"
"Presumptuous?" Batman offered.
"Tha' one!"
Gordon took another drink.
"If you heard that, then you also heard that I thought I was doing it to save hostages. He tricked me, Gordon… I'm not 'going dark side' anytime soon."
Gordon studied him in silence. After a long moment, Gordon sighed and said, "I know…'m sorry, I just," he trailed off and shook his head.
Gordon stared at his bottle, swirling around the tiny amount left inside.
"You were still kissin' him. After."
"I know."
He didn't know how to make Gordon understand that in this case, Batman was just a kid who was forced to try a weird vegetable that somehow turned out to be his new favorite food. But much like fire escapes, metaphors were tricky for the inebriated, so Batman didn't bother.
Gordon lifted the bottle for the last time, draining the last drops of whiskey. He glanced at the bottle and frowned. "It issn' workin. I wanna forget." He looked up, pinning Batman with a very serious look. "Ri' now I believe that'cher still one'na the good guys—but when I sober up, I dunno… I don't wanna not trust you."
"I don't want that either," Batman said. After a moment of consideration, he continued, "If you're serious about wanting to forget, I have something that will work."
"What issit?" Gordon asked, perking up.
"A variation of rohypnol. It'll put you right to sleep and wipe out the past six hours or so."
"Rohyp—you mean roofies?" Gordon barked out a laugh. "Whadd'are ya, a rapist or somethin?"
"That's what Joker said," Batman muttered.
Gordon snorted, half in disgust and half in amusement.
"Where is he, anyway?"
Batman saw no reason to lie.
"Tied up half-naked in the Batmobile," he said, using Joker's ridiculous name for it ironically.
Gordon blinked.
"…Gimme the damn roofies."
Batman handed the pills over.
Gordon tossed them back and swallowed them dry.
"You should probably sit—" Gordon swayed on his feet, and Batman caught him before he could collapse "—down."
Batman carried him across the room and set him down on the sofa, then got the hell out of there. Because, well, the Joker was tied up half-naked in the Batmobile.
A tiny smirk crept onto Batman's face as he hurried down the stairs of the fire escape, then leapt the short distance to the ground, landing next to the Tumbler.
A quick glance up at the blue-lit pre-dawn sky told him that he wouldn't have the cover of darkness much longer. And as much as part of him rebelled and shouted too much, too soon, are you legitimately fucking crazy, there was really only one place to go. Besides, Joker already knew his 'secret identity.'
Batman opened the driver's side door, peered inside, and nearly laughed at the sight that greeted him. Joker had managed, presumably by using his teeth and his knees, to drag one of the pockets of his trench coat up into his mouth—now, he was using his shoulder to tip the pocket open, trying to retrieve something inside.
Joker narrowed his eyes at Batman as he finally got his mouth on what he was after—a switchblade knife. Of course.
He leaned his face over the headrest and dropped the knife into one hand, popping the blade out and trying to cut off the zip ties that bound him.
Batman got into the Tumbler and snatched the knife away before Joker could succeed.
"No toys in time-out," he teased.
Joker glared at him.
"Fuck you, Bruce."
Batman's smile disappeared.
He slammed the Tumbler's door—thank god no one was around to hear his name just now—and growled, "Don't ever call me that."
Joker ignored it.
"So, how long 'til they get here, Bruce?"
Batman blinked and remained silent, trying to figure out what Joker was so pissed off about all of a sudden.
"I guess the delay's 'cause everybody's busy putting out our fire, hmm? Y'know, you actually had me fooled, and that's hard to do—I'd give ya a round of applause, but, ya know," he flapped his tied-up hands uselessly.
"Joker—"
"And the funny part is," he furiously talked over him, "I didn't actually do anything this time! I went out of my goddamn way not to hurt anybody, for your fuckin' sake—and Harley doesn't count, she blew herself up. Didn't see you trying to stop her, by the way," Joker ranted, licking at his scars. "That one rule of yours must have some interesting fine print—you should have your lawyers fax me a copy sometime."
"What are you—?"
"Joke's over, Bruce. Stop pretending!" Joker shouted, throwing a murderous look at him.
"I'm not—"
"Bullshit—the second you get me tied up, you decide you have to talk to Gordon right that fuckin' minute, and leave me all trussed up out here." Joker licked his scars, then put on a nauseating, falsely cheery voice and asked, "So did you two have a nice little chat, hmmm, arranging my ticket back to Arkham? Did Harvey Dent leave an extra body or ten laying around for you two to pin on me, Bruce?"
Oh.
Duh.
"We weren't—"
"Don't lie to me!" Joker shouted, struggling against his bonds so hard that Batman worried he would break his wrists.
"I'm not!"
Batman leaned across the Tumbler and tried to hold Joker still before he hurt himself. He got a knee to the ribs for his effort, and barely dodged a vicious head-butt. But Batman kept at it, and ended up in the passenger seat, on top of Joker's legs to pin them, pressing him against the seat to hold him still. Joker threw his head back in another attempt to head-butt him, but Batman grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him still, pressing his body harder into the passenger seat.
Joker finally stopped struggling, but after a second's pause to catch his breath, he growled, "If you touch me right now, you're dead."
"I would never—! Will you just listen?" Batman hissed in Joker's ear, backing off a little but still restricting Joker's mobility so he couldn't hurt either of them. "I wasn't arranging to turn you in—I was just smoothing things over with Gordon. I drugged him so he won't remember seeing us tonight! If I was planning to throw you back in Arkham, I would've roofied you—and…call me crazy but I want this. Whatever this is with us, I want it. Okay?"
Batman released his grip on Joker's hair, turning it into a brief caress as he removed his hand.
Joker said nothing, and Batman wished he could see his face, so he could see how he was taking this.
"If I let you up, will you calm down?"
A pause.
"Try it and see."
After a second's consideration, Batman did. He carefully moved back to his own seat, and took it as a good sign that Joker stayed still, aside from turning his head to catch Batman's eyes with his own.
Batman met his stare, not trying to hide anything—he wanted Joker to see whatever he was looking for when he did his reading people magic, wanted him to know he was telling the truth.
Batman knew the second Joker found it—Joker's entire body relaxed in relief as he let go of all that murderous tension.
"You, uh," lick "really roofied the Commissioner?"
"He practically begged me to."
"Did he?" A tiny smirk tugged at Joker's lips. He stared at Batman for another long moment, then the smirk faded and he wiggled his bound hands. "Take these fuckin' things off me."
"No." At Joker's sharp glare, Batman elaborated, "Five more minutes."
Batman started up the Tumbler and sped off towards his penthouse.
"Make it three," Joker grumbled, "or I'll crash this thing."
Batman glanced at him; one of Joker's unbound legs could easily reach the steering wheel if he decided to kick it.
"Hold on then," Batman said, taking his driving up a notch, flooring the gas pedal and weaving between cars and buildings at a speed that turned the city's lights to blurs outside his window; it would've been reckless for anyone else (even without taking into account his current blood alcohol level, which had to be pushing legal). A smile crept onto his face—it was such a rush, driving like this, being in perfect control of this powerful machine, swerving through traffic and drifting expertly around corners. It wasn't quite on the same level as physical combat, not as satisfying as using only his fighting skills and his own body to take down opponents, but it was a rush nonetheless.
He felt eyes on him, and spared a second's glance to find Joker staring at him with a matching, secret smile on his lips. Apparently, Joker enjoyed seeing Batman in his element as much as Batman enjoyed being in his element. Batman tore his eyes away so he wouldn't crash into anything, but his smile grew a little wider.
As he approached the construction site near his penthouse, he slowed down and put the Tumbler in stealth mode.
Less than a minute later, the Tumbler was safely parked in the 'temporary Batcave', and Batman found himself under Joker's expectant gaze.
He hesitantly retrieved Joker's knife and cut one hand free, then handed the knife over so Joker could free the other.
Joker glanced over at him when his hands were both free, still holding the knife; after a moment of tense silence, Batman wondered whether he'd miscalculated how angry Joker was and whether he was about to get a few new holes in retribution, but Joker finally closed the switchblade and stuck it back in his jacket pocket.
"So, I guess that's a no to bondage," Batman said, just for the sake of saying something; Joker's nixing the idea wasn't going to cripple his libido or anything.
Joker tilted his head. "I never said that."
Batman wasn't quite sure how he let it happen, but one half-scuffle half-makeout session later, he was zip-tied to the driver's seat in the exact same position Joker had been in moments ago, and Joker was sitting on his legs to hold him still.
"I just, uh, don't like being the one tied up," Joker said, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before reaching around and detaching Batman's 'rape panel.'
"Joker—" Batman growled, struggling to throw him off, but Joker ignored him.
"See, I don't find it sexy being tied up," after a few seconds of tactile investigation, Joker found the hooks to detach the rest of the panels around Batman's hips, thighs, and backside, "being helpless," he ignored Batman's struggling and tugged the black boxers down, "being completely at the mercy of somebody else, who, uh, might not have any."
He scraped his fingernails down Batman's exposed ass, moving his hand lower and lower.
Batman tensed and stilled as one of Joker's fingers teasingly circled his entrance.
"You do it, and it'll be the last time," Batman growled.
Joker chuckled, and murmured, "Oh, sweetheart, it wouldn't be any fun if you couldn't…react." He leaned in close to Batman's ear and said, "Have I made myself clear, then?"
"Inescapably," Batman said, relaxing as Joker's hand retreated.
"Good."
The switchblade reappeared, and Joker cut Batman's hands free.
"Definite 'no' to bondage," Batman muttered.
Joker moved to the passenger seat for the two seconds it took for Batman to turn back around the right way, then he was right back in Batman's lap, reaching between them to start stroking Batman back to hardness.
"Now, where were we?"
Batman's eyes slipped closed at the touch, and Joker's lips captured his small exhalation of surprise—Batman was still half in defensive mode while Joker was already back in full-tilt sexy times mode. It looked like roller coaster mood-swings were just something Batman would have to get used to.
Batman welcomed the kiss, sliding his hands up Joker's bare thighs and around to his ass, grasping the flesh and spreading while pulling him closer.
Joker grinned into their kiss. "Impatient, are we?"
Batman replied by pulling off his gauntlets and shoving two fingers into Joker without warning.
Joker hissed and bit down on Batman's lower lip but rocked against the fingers, taking them deeper. He was still a little slick inside from earlier.
Batman smirked, and teased, "Who's impatient?"
Joker hummed against his lips, and slid a hand across Batman's armored chest. "Take this off. I want to feel you."
"Mmm." Batman withdrew his fingers and pulled off the rest of the Batsuit in record time until he was only wearing the mask (and, technically, his boxers, which were somewhere around his ankles).
But Joker didn't give him time to feel ridiculous; he reached down the side of the driver's seat and found the lever to recline the seat, shoving Batman backwards and straddling him.
"That's better," Joker said, taking in the muscled expanse of Batman's bare body.
Joker was naked except for the trench coat that curled around the two of them like a parody of Batman's cape.
Batman could almost feel Joker's eyes tracing lines across his skin while he perched on top of him. His hands followed, reverently, traversing muscles, mapping planes, lingering on scars. Joker's fingertips started at Batman's hips, skated over those tight, perfect abs (what is that, a twelve pack?), up to his pectorals, teasing whisper-soft touches over his nipples.
Joker's hands came to rest on Batman's shoulders, and he leaned forward for a moment while he shifted his hips, positioning himself above Batman's straining erection.
Joker started to sink down onto it, winced, reconsidered, and produced a small bottle from his coat pocket.
Batman stared. "That building was burning down around us, and you took the time to save the lube?"
"Obviously. Priorities, Bats," Joker said, uncapping the bottle and drizzling some over Batman's erection. It was warm from being in Joker's pocket.
Batman bit his lip while Joker moved back into position; Joker put his hands back on Batman's shoulders, and shifted most of his weight to his arms, effectively pinning Batman in place.
Batman wasn't sure he should let this continue—it felt too much like giving Joker control. Too much like surrender. But then Joker was sinking down onto Batman's cock, engulfing him, and then it just felt like amazing-dirty-perfect-twisted completion. Batman held his breath to keep from moaning.
Joker lowered himself until every inch was inside him. Then he exhaled and leaned forward, arms still braced against Batman's shoulders, letting his head hang down while he took a moment to adjust. The ends of his hair tickled Batman's chest.
Batman tried to sit up, to get some leverage so he could move—if Joker stayed still another millisecond, Batman was going to go insane—but Joker kept him pinned. Then he looked up. And he clenched. And Batman stopped breathing for a moment.
Joker chuckled at the noise that burst past Batman's lips—some hybrid between a moan and a gasp and a whimper. Batman's eyes slipped shut as Joker lifted himself up and slightly forward, treating Batman to a slow, hot, exquisite drag before sinking back down again and clenching around him.
Batman's hands curled around Joker's hips, urging him to move faster. They fell into a rhythm, and Batman found himself reaching for Joker's erection, stroking it and simulating what Joker was doing to him—a slow, tight stroke from base to tip when Joker was lifting up; a quicker tip-to-base stroke followed by a squeeze when Joker sank down and clenched.
It still felt odd to more or less lay there and let Joker ride him, but at this point it was more like ten percent odd, ninety percent really fucking awesome.
Joker's hips sped up their rise and fall, outrunning the rhythm. "Bats, I'm gonna—"
"Go on."
Batman stroked Joker a little faster, a little harder. His other hand slid up from Joker's hip, and he raked his fingernails down the soft flesh of Joker's side. Joker sank down one more time before shuddering and releasing across Batman's abdomen.
Joker leaned forward, resting his forehead on Batman's sternum while he caught his breath. Batman's erection throbbed inside Joker, unimpressed with the sudden stillness.
Batman stroked one hand through Joker's hair while he waited, taking deep breaths and trying to be patient. But he was close to being close, and the lack of movement was killing him.
Joker sensed his frustration and clenched around him to compensate for the stillness. "Just, gimme a second?" Joker took a deep breath, then he seemed to pull himself together, and he straightened back up.
Batman started to sit up with him, but Joker pushed his shoulders back down.
"Nope. Stay there. Better leverage," Joker said, waggling his eyebrows.
Then Joker rose up and sank back down, and it was all Batman could do not to scream in ecstasy. But then Joker stopped again.
Batman growled.
"Stop stopping!"
Joker's lips quirked up at that, but he was studying Batman's face. No, he was studying the mask.
Joker's hand came up, slowly, and his fingertips brushed across the mask, over the part that concealed his cheek bones. Something in his expression replaced Batman's impatience with wariness.
"Take it off," Joker murmured.
Batman blinked.
"Why?"
Joker licked his scars. "I wanna watch your face this time. Wanna see the…" he trailed off.
"Little expressions?"Batman guessed. He'd seen the security tapes; he'd heard every twisted, manipulative word.
Joker nodded.
"Planning on killing me?"
Joker smirked. "Only a little."
Batman's lips quirked up a bit in response. "La petite mort?"
"Oui oui."
Batman rolled his eyes, and reached up to take off the mask, setting it aside in the passenger seat with the rest of the disassembled Batsuit.
"Get on with it, then," Bruce said.
Joker's eyes mapped every millimeter of newly exposed skin, then one hand rose up to do the same.
Bruce curled his hands around Joker's hips, and said, "If you don't move soon, I'm going to make you."
Joker grinned but said, "Just a sec," and smudged his thumb across the skin under Bruce's eye, trying to wipe away the kohl. "Between your makeup and mine," he said, wiping a little trace of his lipstick from the corner of Bruce's mouth, "it's like I'm fucking my reflection."
Bruce quirked an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"
Joker's breath caught. Another way of saying you complete me, and Batsy beat him to it. Believed it, even. "Yeah, guess I am. Same features, only backwards."
"Your reflection's getting impatient," Bruce said, rolling his hips up as best as he could in his pinned position.
They both hissed, and Joker's eyes were drowning in their pupils. "Well, we can't have that."
Joker glanced down at Bruce's come-splattered chest and smirked. He shifted forward as he lifted himself half-off of Bruce's cock, lowering his head to lick a long stripe of his own come off of Bruce's chest. Bruce's muscles twitched under Joker's tongue as Bruce inhaled a shuddery breath.
Joker's grin widened and he stretched up meet Bruce's lips and let the Bat taste him.
Bruce growled into the kiss, and took the opportunity to seize Joker's hips and slam him back down, impaling him. Joker made a muffled mmph noise, but he grinned.
"Control freak," he muttered affectionately.
"Tease," Bruce replied.
"Me? Never," Joker said, raising up and sinking back down while clenching around Bruce's cock.
A breathy "Fuck, Joker," escaped Bruce's lips without his permission.
Joker closed his eyes as if to savor the sound. "Batsy…Bruce," he whispers, raising up and slamming himself back down, rewarding Bruce with a faster, steady rhythm.
Bruce's grip on his hips helped him along—Joker's thigh muscles had to be on fire by now.
After a moment, Joker glanced towards the window for a second before meeting Batman's eyes and saying, "These windows are tinted, right?"
His voice was breathy but his rhythm didn't falter as he rode Batman's cock.
It took Batman a second to process the question; he was really close and not in the mood for Twenty Questions right now. Or ever, really, but especially not now.
"Yeah. Why?"
He tried to look out the driver's side window, but the way Joker was straddling him blocked his view. And the warm, sliding friction of in and out was altogether distracting.
"How tinted?" Joker asked.
"Opaque, from the outside. Why?"
Batman started to sit up, but Joker leaned forward, using his weight and his hands on Batsy's shoulders to keep him there.
"No reason," Joker said, too casually.
A sharp tap against the tinted window interrupted, and Bruce shoved Joker back enough that Bruce could get one arm behind himself for leverage and sit up; both looked over to find a very displeased Alfred standing outside the Tumbler.
"Shit," Bruce said, a flare of panic shooting through him.
Joker put all of his weight into shoving Bruce backwards, and succeeded in getting him flat on his back again. "We're, uh," up and out, down and in, "not finished here."
Even though there's no way Alfred could actually see them, the Tumbler had to have been rocking this whole time, and the windows were all steamed up, and Alfred was standing right there, and Bruce was more than a little freaked out by that.
"Get off!" Bruce demands, trying to sit up.
"Yeah, that's the idea," Joker said, misunderstanding him on purpose and riding him harder, clenching hard every time he took Bruce all the way in.
"Joker," Bruce growled, wanting to fight him on principle, but he was so goddamn close, and in the back of his mind there was a quiet kind of earth-shattering thrill at the inevitability of someone else knowing—a variation of how he felt when Harley walked in on them sucking face hours ago. And Joker looked positively primal riding him, covered in a sheen of sweat, his green hair a train wreck, make up smeared nearly off, fucking obsessive psychopathic hot mess but he was his fucking obsessive psychopathic hot mess, and fuck, those eyes.
Bruce closed his eyes, gripped Joker's hips harder and forced him to speed up.
"Look at me, Bats."
Bruce looked. His eyes locked with Joker's for the whole thirty seconds left before he came buried to the hilt inside Joker. Joker shifted forward and leaned down to kiss Bruce through it, one hand twisted possessively in Bruce's dark hair.
Joker carded his fingers through Bruce's hair, their eyes meeting as Bruce let the afterglow wash over him.
Joker opened his mouth to say something, but there was another, more insistent knock on the window, and Joker frowned. "Ya know, I have a history of killing people who interrupt me."
"No." He gave Joker a look that managed to be stern and entreating at the same time. "Alfred raised me after my parents died. He is permanently on the do-not-kill list."
"You're assuming there is a list."
Bruce thought back to the night when Joker was strung up upside down in front of him, when he told him he's too fun to kill, when he promised him forever.
"There's a list," Bruce said.
Joker's tongue swiped at his scars, but the minute quirk of his eyebrows seemed to convey grudging concession.
He sighed and sat up, shifting to let Bruce slip out of him and reaching for his boxers on the passenger seat. It struck Bruce that they hadn't used a condom—he was so caught up this time that he hadn't even thought about it until now. Too late now, although Joker's last round of tests six months ago before he busted out of Arkham declared him free of any kind of diseases, sexually transmitted or otherwise. Arkham was very thorough about their testing. And Bruce was very thorough in his investigations—he totally was not obsessed with Joker or anything. So, hopefully, the only thing he was going to catch from this was a stronger case of their particular brand of folie à deux.
"Well then. Where are your manners, Batsy? Introduce me," Joker said, reaching for the door handle.
A/N: Sooo, it looks like there's going to be more of this :) At least one more chapter, maybe more, I don't know. But if these bonus chapters decide to join forces and turn into a full-blown sequel, I'm still going to keep posting them here under the original story. That way, everybody who is following this one doesn't have to go hunt down a separate post, because that gets annoying.
Hope you all enjoyed this :)
A/N 6-15-15:
So, I have a favor to ask you, but it's also a fandom recomendation, so bear with me. One of my favorite shows, The Following, got cancelled after 3 amazing seasons. However, it's possible for another network to buy the rights to the show and continue it. There's a social media fan movement going on right now to #savethefollowing . We're focusing on Netflix, but other possibilities are NBC, HBO, and Showtime.
Please use Twitter to ask Netflix to pick up The Following for a 4th season. Links to SIGN THE PETITION and to join the Facebook group "Save 'The Following' " are on my profile.
Please join in even if you've never seen The Following. And if you haven't seen it, give it a shot- I think you would like it — the Ryan/Joe dynamic is a lot like Batman/Joker :) And the subtext starts getting a lot less "sub" in season three ;)
So join in, please? Do it for me? Because you love / like / tolerate my online presence? ;) Also, btw there is another bonus chapter of AOHCR in the works :D
Thank you!
A/N 8-6-15: ANOTHER FAVOR/ FANDOM RECOMENDATION: Hannibal has also been cancelled by NBC and is looking for another network to pick up the show. The show is ART on its own, but shippers you'll fall in love with Hannibal/Will aka Hannigram (by the end of season 2, even the writers ship it XD ) The actors, producers, writers, and fans are all on board so please join us to help #SaveHannibal !
PLEASE JOIN IN ON TWITTER TO HELP #SAVEHANNIBAL. Follow the producers "at"DeLaurentiisCo and "at"BryanFuller for updates! Also follow me "at"Kayliana19 if you want ;)
PS/Duh replace "at" with the at symbol because for some STUPID REASON ffnet won't show the at symbol.
THANK YOU SO MUCH!
