Clown Queen of Crime

Harley Quinn (Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Age 33.

[palexwidow]

side-of-puddin·:

Sight seeing? Black widow? Ants? Was she some sort of tourist assassin? Some sort of sicko that posed with the people she killed? Was she even with Waller?

“And just why should I believe anything you have to say, Taranula?” She asked as she sipped her Coke and plopped herself down across from Yelena. She was either lying, and nothing would happen even if Harley did wait, or she was being honest which meant Harley had to save her strength for all the hack-job soldiers that were coming her way.

“As far as I know you’re some wacko spider freak that gets her rocks off harassing innocent clowns.”

She brought her boots up onto the table to feign relaxing as she held the little metal box in her lap.

“Which by the way, also not normally on the girls night list,” she paused before giving q wide grin, “Hey, maybe the ants can fill you in before you chomp them with your weird spider fangs!”

\

Yelena stayed quiet for a moment, after asking her question. She let the room speak for itself before she spoke. “Because, Harleen Quinzel, you see that door you walked through?” She gestured to it with a nod before she spoke again. “You would of been dead before you had time to close it if I wanted to but I didn’t.” She said simply, as if stating a fact rather than something threatening. “That and you are some sort of psychologist, yes? I may be trained as a professional liar but I do believe in commerce. I get something. You get something.” Yelena sat up straight. “I get paid. You get to live. I feel that is a fair trade.” As she stated that she was harassing innocent clowns, Yelena burst into laughter, holding her side. “You are funny, Harleen Quinzel. Very funny. That was the best one yet.” She soothed herself as she wiped under her left eye. “Oh stop being a spoil sport. It is my first time. Girls night I mean. This is very routine.” Yelena said as she gestured between them.

[side-of-puddin]

"Some kinda professional? I got a PhD, mother fucker. I've worked with the greatest minds, treated the most lost, and blown up more hospitals than any professional in the feild."

Harley reached under the box and ripped off the small piece of hot pink duct tape that held the small key in place.

"For example," she smiled, "I've got this metal box right? And you, you have no idea what's inside. Now you've read Waller's file on me, sure, so you could make a few decent guesses."

Her voice didn't carry as thick of an accent as she spoke now. She slowly peeled the tape off the key and then suck the end of it on the table before looking up at Yelena with serious eyes.

"What do you think I have in here?" She asked rhetorically, "Gun? Bomb? Cash? Maybe Waller was really thorough and you'd even guess some of the fun toys Joker and I have when unexpected guests show up."

This was the side if Harley she didn't often show. It was cold, calculating, and serious in a way that didn't align with her normal personality at all. Just as quickly as that side of her appeared, it was gone again beneath a wide grin and rolling eyes.

"Point is, Toots, despite what the Ice Queen may have told ya, you don't know jack shit about me or what she's gonna make us do for that matter. And yes, I mean us."

She put the key in the box and unlocked it, revealing a large stash of candy...and drugs.

"Oh, and if ya had killed me like ya said ya could have," Harley paused as she brought out a packet of Reeses and tossed them across the table, "This entire base would've exploded. Just as a heads up for future girls nights."

[killer-for-hire]

side-of-puddin​:

Hearing him admit they were friends sent a warm, fuzzy shock down her arms and legs. She knew better than to surprise hug him, but the urge was very strong. Sure they had been on opposite sides before, but they were on the same side most of the time, and most of the time was enough for her.

“I can’t remember his name, since I always just called him Twinkie. The guy looks like one, hand ta God.” She pointed her gun up in the air as she did the Catholic hand gesture terribly. “Like jaundice head ta toe, way too white fake teeth. Mistah J and I have debated Twinkie or Jelly stick, since he technically would have red fi–”

Harley looked at him with a playful sigh as she realized how much she was rambling. Hitting her palm off her forehead, she laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, yeah lemme see the goods.” She looked at the list of names and found six she knew and paid monthly. Only two of them were actually important enough to care about, but she made a mental note of the other four to tell Mistah J. She wasn’t about to let them all get paid if they were dead. “Would ya mind if I tag along for these two?” She pointed to a bank manager and a city lawyer. “I don’t care whatcha do to them, I just wanna talk first. No surprises, promise!”

If he remembered taking her word as a good thing, that was a him problem.

Originally posted by miqnato

As she babbled along, Slade rolled his eye. He always wondered how much of Harley Quinn’s… aura was actually her and how much was put on to fit the aesthetic. He supposed he wouldn’t ever know for sure unless she decided to drop the act for a time. But honestly, he didn’t care that much. His concerns were with his work, not with Harley Quinn’s psych profile.

Her request wasn’t inherently offensive to him, as long as she didn’t think she was going to be some kind of partner for the evening. He didn’t care if she had questions, but he wouldn’t deal with an operation gone awry. Deathstroke had his pistol out in a near blur before he had it pressed hard under her chin to lift it so she was looking directly in his eyes. “You fuck this up for me, Quinn, and I’ll pump your skull full of iron. Got it?”

[side-of-puddin]

Harley leaned into the cold metal under her chin, lifting her big doe eyes up to him with a smile.

"Will you at least buy me dinner first?" She cooed sweetly before bringing her hand up to trace her finger along the side of the gun.

Harley wasn't afraid of anything, well almost. Still, her buddy flirting over office talk had her giggling more than shaking. Mr. Workaholic had no real reason to kill her yet, and doing so would bring down a wrath she was sure even he wouldn't escape.

"Now come on, it's Friday night, we're gonna go kill some people who deserve it sorta-maybe, loosen up! Ten bucks says the banker is bangin' his mistress and we bust in before he does."

She gave a full laugh then before stepping passed him to move down the alley towards the first target.

"Come on, chop chop Mr. Grumpy! I'm not payin' for this jerks apartment ta not be there when he gets his face blown off."

[palexwidow]

side-of-puddin·:

The Squad? Like THE Squad? The Squad where she nearly got killed every time? The Squad that took her away from Mistah J on multiple accounts and made her work with a weird Rat guy thing? Made sense.

“It’s really more like, woah, this dumb broad is eatin’ my candy bar I was savin’ for tonight and for some reason thinks I’m gonna go back to Amanda fucking Waller.”

Harley walked to the fridge and tossed her pistol on the metal shelf inside before grabbing a Vanilla Coke from the door.

“Also, for the record, your idea of a girl’s night sucks if this was your plan. Where’s the margaritas? The face masks? The strippers we cover in quick dry cement and throw out the window?”

She grabbed a second can and cracked it open as if to offer it to Yelena before taking a giant sip and throwing the can across the room. This bitch wasn’t getting her Vanilla Coke too.

“And what are you gettin’ outta this anyway? She promise to take the little boom chip out ya noggin? Because news flash, Waller is a lying ice queen who don’t care about no body.”

Harley reached above the fridge to pull down a warm can of lemon Seltzer, as well as a small metal container that was hidden under the empty shell of a Raisin Bran box. She placed it on the table with a heavy thud before offering Yelena the warm drink.

“Sorry I’m all out of cold ones.”

\

Yelena gasped playfully. “Dumb broad? I broke into your base without breaking anything while you and your clown man decide to gas an entire city. I’m a lot of things but dumb I am not.” She pointed out, chewing the candy bar. “I’ve never done a girl’s night.” She gasped, raising her hands as she looked to the other. As Harley made a somewhat power play with the coke, Yelena sat, not phased. “Now that was just wasteful and you made a mess. Do you want ants? That is how you get ants.” She said, her tone still rather casual. At her question, Yelena watched her. “I’m a Black Widow, Harleen Quinzel. I work for hire. Amanda hired me. Fair enough, I did kill some of her squad but they interfered with the job. She paid more.” She watched the other carefully. “Look, Harleen, this isn’t personal for me. This is a job.” She shrugged. “And whatever you say or do, this is inevitable.” She said as she placed the can in front of her. “So, I would personally like to complete this job without having blood getting involved since I am going sight seeing after this.”

[side-of-puddin]

Sight seeing? Black widow? Ants? Was she some sort of tourist assassin? Some sort of sicko that posed with the people she killed? Was she even with Waller?

"And just why should I believe anything you have to say, Taranula?" She asked as she sipped her Coke and plopped herself down across from Yelena. She was either lying, and nothing would happen even if Harley did wait, or she was being honest which meant Harley had to save her strength for all the hack-job soldiers that were coming her way.

"As far as I know you're some wacko spider freak that gets her rocks off harassing innocent clowns."

She brought her boots up onto the table to feign relaxing as she held the little metal box in her lap.

"Which by the way, also not normally on the girls night list," she paused before giving q wide grin, "Hey, maybe the ants can fill you in before you chomp them with your weird spider fangs!"

[palexwidow]

side-of-puddin·:

How did this chick know her actual name? How did she get in without Harley being notified? Who did she think she was threatening her in her own base? Why was she eating her candy?! There were too many questions Harley wanted the answer to despite also wanting to blast the other woman in the face and move on with her night. Hearing Harleen felt wrong in their base, but the PhD in the back of her mind was clawing its way to the front. She did like girls nights.

“Yelena, I hate ta disappoint ya, but Harleen hasn’t been around in quite some time,” she responded before pointing the gun straight up and firing a shot into the ceiling.

“May I ask why the hell ya lookin’ for her anyway? Ya accent doesn’t really give off relative vibes, and considerin you’re here and not in a hospital or library you definitely haven’t kept in touch.”

\

Yelena sat back in her seat, getting comfortable as she watched the other blonde. She didn’t really bring up anything, letting the other woman process what was happening. “But that is your name, isn’t it? Harleen Quinzel?” She asked simply before shrugging a little at her. At her questions, Yelena looked back to where she fired. “I know what you are thinking. What is going on? This is craaaazy.” She chuckled. “There is this strange woman in my house. Calling me my real name. Isn’t scared of a gun.” She shifted on her seat as she looked back at Harley. “You are returning to the Squad. They chose me as the suitable person to do so.” She said simply as she smiled. “They told me not to kill you which, I must admit, is a little boring but your wardrobe has brownie points from me.” She stated simply. “So, you can either take a seat and wait for extraction or I can put you in intensive care and then you’ll be drafted back into the Task Force.” She smiled broadly. “Come on. Indulge me in a little fun.”

[side-of-puddin]

The Squad? Like THE Squad? The Squad where she nearly got killed every time? The Squad that took her away from Mistah J on multiple accounts and made her work with a weird Rat guy thing? Made sense.

"It's really more like, woah, this dumb broad is eatin' my candy bar I was savin' for tonight and for some reason thinks I'm gonna go back to Amanda fucking Waller."

Harley walked to the fridge and tossed her pistol on the metal shelf inside before grabbing a Vanilla Coke from the door.

"Also, for the record, your idea of a girl's night sucks if this was your plan. Where's the margaritas? The face masks? The strippers we cover in quick dry cement and throw out the window?"

She grabbed a second can and cracked it open as if to offer it to Yelena before taking a giant sip and throwing the can across the room. This bitch wasn't getting her Vanilla Coke too.

"And what are you gettin' outta this anyway? She promise to take the little boom chip out ya noggin? Because news flash, Waller is a lying ice queen who don't care about no body."

Harley reached above the fridge to pull down a warm can of lemon Seltzer, as well as a small metal container that was hidden under the empty shell of a Raisin Bran box. She placed it on the table with a heavy thud before offering Yelena the warm drink.

"Sorry I'm all out of cold ones."

[palexwidow]

side-of-puddin·:

Harley had been out playing peace-maker with the Irish, with her bat, and guns, and a confetti bomb for pizazz. It was a pretty regular night out while Mistah J dealt with the serious business up town. While she loved that he trusted her with taking care of his problems, she wished he’d let her really shine front and center with him. Sometimes she got to, and it was amazing, but other times his mind was too busy to also have her there.

She walked through the fun-house-mirror-lined entryway, tossing her keys to the side as she called out to see if anyone was home. When she saw some random blonde sitting in Mistah J’s chair though, she had to hold back a scream. Was this some sort of joke? Did her Puddin’ bring back some Dollar Tree version of her to make her mad? Because it fucking worked.

Harley pulled her gun and pointed it at the other woman.

“Who the hell are you?” She smiled as she cocked her head to the side with a grin. “And please pick ya words very carefully cuz’ I JUST finished cleanin’ these tiles.”

\

Of course, that was the reaction she got. Yelena sighed to herself, playing with a blonde lock of hair. “I’m Yelena Belova and your Harleen Quinzel, yes?” She asked, though she really didn’t need the confirmation. Her research was solid. Yelena stood up for a moment. “Stop being so aggressive. I didn’t bring any weapons.” She said, gesturing to the firearm pointed at her. “That was a lie. I don’t currently have any weapons in my hands.” She corrected herself as she opened the candy bar. “I love American candy.” She said, taking a bite and sighing with content. “Come on. Don’t be so aggressive.” She told her, taking a seat again and gesturing to the one across from her. She continued to chew before she spoke again. “Unless you want to die but I’m looking for more of a girls night. You like girls nights, don’t you Harleen Quinzel?”

[side-of-puddin]

How did this chick know her actual name? How did she get in without Harley being notified? Who did she think she was threatening her in her own base? Why was she eating her candy?! There were too many questions Harley wanted the answer to despite also wanting to blast the other woman in the face and move on with her night. Hearing Harleen felt wrong in their base, but the PhD in the back of her mind was clawing its way to the front. She did like girls nights.

"Yelena, I hate ta disappoint ya, but Harleen hasn't been around in quite some time," she responded before pointing the gun straight up and firing a shot into the ceiling.

"May I ask why the hell ya lookin' for her anyway? Ya accent doesn't really give off relative vibes, and considerin you're here and not in a hospital or library you definitely haven't kept in touch."

[ofdeardens]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley had been sitting on the fire escape above the fight, enjoying a nice grilled chicken taco as she watched the three goons her Puddin’ was interviewing get their asses handed to them. Goons. They were always useless, but ever since the aliens and whatever, good help had been impossible to find. Tonight was their chance to get on her good side and make the team, but as far as she saw, they all still needed some resume builders.

She had climbed down once it was over and she heard the name Oracle slip from the other woman. Who was this chick? What was she doin’ interrupting her night without inviting her to join in?

“Yeah, I can see that,” she laughed before winding up to kick one of the guys right in the gut. Pathetic. “Ya did pretty okay, ‘specially against three of these bafoons.”

Harley wasn’t necessarily looking for a fight so much as a conversation. She wanted to find out if this mask was gonna be a problem for her and Mistah J. If she was just planning on taking out low level competition, Harley might even offer some protection. If she wasn’t though, Harley’s bat was very good at making first impressions.

“May I politely ask who the fuck are you? Oh and also, why ya didn’t think ta carry a tampon around for that? That’s first grade shit, sweetheart.” She gestured to the obvious bloody nose before reaching in her pocket to throw one across to her.

Originally posted by harleyqueenofgothamcity

…

Still mopping at her nose with her sleeve, Mia eyed the approaching person warily. Familiar. Harley Quinn, straight out of Gotham, just what she needed. The kick she’d delivered to the unconscious man’s side was impressive, though Mia kept her eyes trained on Harley instead. Nope, couldn’t afford to let her night go even further south than her nose gushing like a fucking mall fountain. Maybe it was broken. “I did more than okay,” she mumbled, eyebrows furrowed beneath the domino mask. “I – there were three of them.” And close range wasn’t exactly her thing. She’d run out of net arrows, wasn’t looking to shish kabob anyone tonight, but at least her bow had served as a tool to knock one of the goons unconscious. “Whatever.” Don’t take it seriously, even if it was hard when she was sore all over and thought she’d done a damn good job. “Speedy.” Green Arrow’s sidekick, but G.A. was no where in sight. “Must’ve left them in my other kevlar. Silly me.”

[side-of-puddin]

Harley laughed, "The kid's got jokes, I love it." She continued walking forward until she was in the middle of the dimly lit alley just in front of the girl.

"So Speedy, ya wanna tell me what a thing like you is doin' in a girl like this?" She gestured to the dank alleyway littered with her almost employees. "As much as I enjoyed the show, ya can't tell me it was for funsies. Unless it was! Ooo, if it was can ya tell me why you punched the ginger one first? I also found myself wanting to punch him, I think it's the earring, was it the earring for you?"

She reached for the pistol on her hip and drew it, pointing it right at the head of the ginger man in question.

"Did he say somethin' ta you?" She cocked the gun and smiled in Speedy's direction before giving her a wink and firing the gun. "Was it his face?"

[palexwidow]

Yelena wasn’t really too impressed with whatever the hell this was. After all, she found it all to be rather ridiculous. “You can make anything in the world and they make laughing gas.” She muttered to herself as she took a seat. Having separated from the Squad early, she had her own mission which was to return Harley Quinn to Amanda Waller and Yelena liked to be paid. She waited patiently so when the door opened to what she assumed was the base for the pair, Yelena was already waiting in a seat, not making an attempt to hide but rather tackle the problem head on. “Harleen Quinzel.” She said as if greeting an old friend. To her, she had read so much about the other that she felt like she did know the other. “Have you got any food around here? I could only find like one Baby Ruth.” She said, raising the candy bar.

@side-of-puddin

[side-of-puddin]

Harley had been out playing peace-maker with the Irish, with her bat, and guns, and a confetti bomb for pizazz. It was a pretty regular night out while Mistah J dealt with the serious business up town. While she loved that he trusted her with taking care of his problems, she wished he'd let her really shine front and center with him. Sometimes she got to, and it was amazing, but other times his mind was too busy to also have her there.

She walked through the fun-house-mirror-lined entryway, tossing her keys to the side as she called out to see if anyone was home. When she saw some random blonde sitting in Mistah J's chair though, she had to hold back a scream. Was this some sort of joke? Did her Puddin' bring back some Dollar Tree version of her to make her mad? Because it fucking worked.

Harley pulled her gun and pointed it at the other woman.

"Who the hell are you?" She smiled as she cocked her head to the side with a grin. "And please pick ya words very carefully cuz' I JUST finished cleanin' these tiles."

[clownking-ofcrime]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley hummed happily as she spun herself out from his touch to cut the cake. She pulled a long knife from the drawer, and began getting them each a massive slice. From there it simply a matter of snuggling into the oversized, plastic covered couch that was in the garage.

The garage was her favorite. Not only did it remind her of the 1950s magazine covers with their fake grass, plastic flamingos, and brightly colored, plastic covered furniture, but it was also where they always had family time. As much as Harley pushed to have her boys upstairs with them, it made sense to give them their own space to play.

It had only been about five minutes when she started to feel like she had taken an edible. Her body felt warm and fuzzy, and her lips pulled into a soft smile as their hostage was brought in and tossed on the terf covered floor in front of the couch.

“Hello again, silly head,” she giggled at him before reaching her arms out to Joker to have him join her. “Come on Puddin, I saved ya the best seat in the house.”

The tingling in her fingers had her feeling overly tactile and she wanted to run her fingers through his hair and over his skin. She wondered what her bruises would feel like if he were to touch them now, and how he would touch them.

When Bud and Lou were brought into the room, Harley squeaked with joy. She was always happy to see her favorite baby angels, and knowing they were going to make Mistah J proud they night had her smiling growing again.

“Ya wanna question him at all, Mistah J?” She laughed as she handed him the frosting covered knife she had used to cut the cake. “Or skip right to dessert?”

Originally posted by vanessacarlysle

Taking the cake she offered, he took a big bite and imagined he could feel the sugar rushing through his veins and dancing down his fingertips. It had him giggling again before he set it aside to hold his hand out for the big knife. “Questions questions,” he purred before holding out the knife to their well-beaten hostage. “You look hungry, pal. How about some frosting?” 

The wicked blade gleamed under the thug’s nose, making sweat bead on his forehead as Joker grinned and did a little dance. “Come on now, don’t be shy. My girl went through all the trouble. And it’s the least you can do after she came home with blood on her face. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to hit a lady?”

Granted, Joker had hit Harley plenty of times. But that was different. She belonged to him, after all. 

“I’m so s–”

Clicking his tongue, Joker shook his head before the knife moved to press up under their hostage’s chin. “So so sorry, right?” He asked before letting his head fall back. Abruptly, he perched on the man’s knee, crossing his legs and looking over at Harley. “Look at her, buddy. You really think a gal like that should be coming home with blood on her face? And you think I’m a heartfelt apology kind of fella? I’m touched you think so.”

[side-of-puddin]

Harley say criss-cross on the couch, taking her time eating all the frosting off the top as she watched her Puddin in action. He had such a way with words, and the way he was putting her well being before getting actual information had her swooning. Sure, she knew he had hit her before, but that was different. She had deserved it those times, just like this guy deserved it now.

"Ya, you tell em', Mistah J," she cheered from the couch as Bud and Lou pulled anxiously at their chains. She got to her feet and walked over to her boys, kneeling between them as they jumped to cover her in kisses. They were already giggling, hungry and drooling as she loved on them from the sideline.

She turned her attention back to the chair where Mistah J sat, and her eyes went wide. She could feel a buzz over her whole body now, like that feeling when you stand up too fast. She twisted her hand in Bud's fluff as her vision refocused before letting out a happy breath.

"Wanna let him try again?"

[killer-for-hire]

side-of-puddin​:

She appreciated that neither of them had dropped their weapon. It made the conversation more fun knowing it could abruptly end at any explosive moment. It didn’t stop her from getting within point blank range to continue chatting, but she loved the little spike of adrenaline.

“Forgot we were-” Harley feigned a broken heart as she gave a dramatic pout, “after everyone we’ve shot through together. A little alien war shows up and bam, suddenly I’m off the MySpace top ten. Well, you should know, Mistah, that I too have been very busy…workin.”

To an extent she had. Lots of people to keep in line once the new lines were drawn, plus her Puddin had some big ideas planned that required her special attention to detail.

“Also, rude, he was a vegan so to bring up beef with the deceased is just uncalled for.” She lowered her gun finally and erupted into laughter. “Dirtbag was on our playroll, and feedin’ us info on the Italians. Which I still needed by the way.”

She raised a brow at him, wondering who else was on his agenda for the evening. “You mind if I make sure no other useful fuckos are on your grocery list? Maybe we can help each other out, like old times.”

Originally posted by mewithachance

MySpace… He wasn’t entirely concerned with the latest in social media advancements, but he was fairly sure that that one was way out of date. Not that he felt the need to point out as such. Waste of breath. “Some of those shots have been aimed at each other,” he reminded her with some amusement. “But what’s a little friendly fire… among friends?” It was likely dangerous to play into her perceptions of him, but Slade really didn’t mind her when she wasn’t getting in his way. When she was, he could push her out of it. There were very few people he couldn’t. 

“Rough break,” he responded regarding her info. “Seems like he was pissing off a lot of people. He got a second? Maybe the name’s on my list.” If Joker was involved, it was better to try to play nice. And names were nothing. He wasn’t stupid enough to give her any information about his employers. He was a professional, and the people who hired him appreciated that very much. He wasn’t about to blow his rep for Harley Quinn. But the names he could manage.

Pulling up the interface on his wrist, the holo projected so she could see it. It displayed his targets with all the appropriate redactions. “Knock yourself out. Look, but don’t touch.” Her sticky fingers weren’t getting anywhere near his tech.

[side-of-puddin]

Hearing him admit they were friends sent a warm, fuzzy shock down her arms and legs. She knew better than to surprise hug him, but the urge was very strong. Sure they had been on opposite sides before, but they were on the same side most of the time, and most of the time was enough for her.

"I can't remember his name, since I always just called him Twinkie. The guy looks like one, hand ta God." She pointed her gun up in the air as she did the Catholic hand gesture terribly. "Like jaundice head ta toe, way too white fake teeth. Mistah J and I have debated Twinkie or Jelly stick, since he technically would have red fi--"

Harley looked at him with a playful sigh as she realized how much she was rambling. Hitting her palm off her forehead, she laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, yeah lemme see the goods." She looked at the list of names and found six she knew and paid monthly. Only two of them were actually important enough to care about, but she made a mental note of the other four to tell Mistah J. She wasn't about to let them all get paid if they were dead. "Would ya mind if I tag along for these two?" She pointed to a bank manager and a city lawyer. "I don't care whatcha do to them, I just wanna talk first. No surprises, promise!"

If he remembered taking her word as a good thing, that was a him problem.

[killer-for-hire]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley had been following Slade for about an hour. She’d like to say she had some sort of fancy mechanism that alerted her he was around town again, but in all reality she had been on her way to collect from some uptown jabronie only to find a bullet hole in his head that she definitely didn’t put there. The work was all too familiar, and considering time wasn’t taken to vandalize or loot the place, it only meant one thing.

It may not have been nearly as exciting for Slade as it was for her, but seeing a familiar face during all the chaos made Harley down right chipper.

“Slade, baby,” she smiled as her pistol leveled right back at him, “Now is this any way to say hello to an old friend? New friend, sure, but me?”

She walked towards him, completely unafraid of the gun she knew wouldn’t miss if he felt like shooting. He wouldn’t shoot her. Well, at least not in a killing kinda way.

“Ya don’t call, ya don’t write, and then what? Ya just show up and shoot my fat greedy old white guy in the head before I can? I’ve been dealin’ with that dingus for months, and I definitely deserved that confetti cannon to his brain.”

Originally posted by kat-bishop

Baby. God. He didn’t show it, but the way his nose wrinkled at the love name probably would have made her laugh at him if she could see his face. It was just Harley’s way, he knew, but it didn’t make him want to shudder any less. It reminded him of Adeline. And that had certainly blown up in his face, hadn’t it? “I had forgotten we were friends,” he said plainly. Maybe it was because he was naturally standoffish, or maybe because they were both equally mercurial. Who knew how either would feel about anyone at any given time. It was one of his tragic flaws, perhaps. As for Quinn… he thought it was just a side effect of hanging around the clown.

“Been busy. Working.” She would know that his business meant more to him than anything in the world. Even when he wished it didn’t. He was Deathstroke the Terminator, and it had been the only constant in his life since he took on the name. Everything else was ephemeral, or was deliberately sacrificed to Deathstroke. It had to be. After all, wasn’t that how it had always been? 

“What beef did you have with him? And he was just the first person on my list.” He had a number of names in this area. Tonight would be a bloody one, but lucrative.

[side-of-puddin]

She appreciated that neither of them had dropped their weapon. It made the conversation more fun knowing it could abruptly end at any explosive moment. It didn't stop her from getting within point blank range to continue chatting, but she loved the little spike of adrenaline.

"Forgot we were-" Harley feigned a broken heart as she gave a dramatic pout, "after everyone we've shot through together. A little alien war shows up and bam, suddenly I'm off the MySpace top ten. Well, you should know, Mistah, that I too have been very busy...workin."

To an extent she had. Lots of people to keep in line once the new lines were drawn, plus her Puddin had some big ideas planned that required her special attention to detail.

"Also, rude, he was a vegan so to bring up beef with the deceased is just uncalled for." She lowered her gun finally and erupted into laughter. "Dirtbag was on our playroll, and feedin' us info on the Italians. Which I still needed by the way."

She raised a brow at him, wondering who else was on his agenda for the evening. "You mind if I make sure no other useful fuckos are on your grocery list? Maybe we can help each other out, like old times."

[killer-for-hire]

Welcome Back to the Shithole || Slade and Harley

@side-of-puddin​

Slade’s nose wrinkled as he walked the streets of the refugee zone in Gotham. His home city. God what a shithole. And it was even worse now that Bat and Co. had their attentions split between here and the rest of the world thanks to the fucking alien that was still trying to take over the world. How many fucking people had tried that, he wondered? And here the world was, exactly the fucking same. He shook his head. It didn’t matter to Slade either way, as long as the money kept flowing. Chaos made a merc’s life easier, after all.

Now, he had a list of contracts, and the payouts were getting bigger and bigger with each uptick in destruction. He had walked through hot zones, mostly avoiding any of the aliens, and now he was here. The person he was hunting was a apparently some kind of former mob boss from Metropolis. He wasn’t sure how the hell he and his people had managed to make it here to Gotham, but he had probably managed to set up a hell of a ring in a year’s time. Metropolis had been ground zero for Darkseid, after all. Everyone had seen it on the news. And they had seen Superman fail. Hell of a Saturday morning special. 

As he heard a giggle behind him, his eye narrowed, one of the guns at his hip suddenly in hand before he turned and found it leveled right at a familiar face. A familiar pain in his ass was more like it. “Quinn,” he grunted out. “What the hell do you want?” If she was here, she’d probably been tailing him for a while. For all her antics, she wasn’t as much of a fuck up as she played at. Sometimes, Slade was fairly sure she was smarter than Joker himself.

[side-of-puddin]

Harley had been following Slade for about an hour. She'd like to say she had some sort of fancy mechanism that alerted her he was around town again, but in all reality she had been on her way to collect from some uptown jabronie only to find a bullet hole in his head that she definitely didn't put there. The work was all too familiar, and considering time wasn't taken to vandalize or loot the place, it only meant one thing.

It may not have been nearly as exciting for Slade as it was for her, but seeing a familiar face during all the chaos made Harley down right chipper.

"Slade, baby," she smiled as her pistol leveled right back at him, "Now is this any way to say hello to an old friend? New friend, sure, but me?"

She walked towards him, completely unafraid of the gun she knew wouldn't miss if he felt like shooting. He wouldn't shoot her. Well, at least not in a killing kinda way.

"Ya don't call, ya don't write, and then what? Ya just show up and shoot my fat greedy old white guy in the head before I can? I've been dealin' with that dingus for months, and I definitely deserved that confetti cannon to his brain."

[clownking-ofcrime]

side-of-puddin​:

It was a whirlwind of emotions, as it always qas with him. The closeness of him had her melting into his arms, and his words had her head spinning. It was always strange trusting him more than anyone or anything while still getting the “dangerous” anxiety screaming in her head. Not only that but, the last thing she wanted was to wreck the mood. She had worked too hard and gotten too happy to let something like her own wants get in the way.

She looked in his perfectly blue eyes and held his gaze for a moment before smiling and opening her lips to stick out her tongue. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, she knew that, but would he actually join in? She supposed it was too late as she felt the little blue capsule wiggle down her throat. He would join in. He was just being a gentleman, like he said.

“I’ll see ya on the other side then, Puddin,” she grinned before leaning in to kiss him while he was still close and focused on her.

Originally posted by harleyquinnsquad

Well, he was going to wait, see what happened to Harley before he joined her. But the look on her face and the way she opened her mouth so dutifully had him laughing, his mind as changeable as it always was. So instead, he slipped a pill into his own mouth before taking a second between his teeth. From there, he swung her around dramatically to dip her low. His brows waggled as he leaned down for her to take it. Once she did it, it would be a race against the clock before the drug kicked in and they figured out exactly what they were working with. 

It’d be the missing piece to his plan. His decision on how to finish it off. He had to do things with a flourish, after all.

[side-of-puddin]

Harley hummed happily as she spun herself out from his touch to cut the cake. She pulled a long knife from the drawer, and began getting them each a massive slice. From there it simply a matter of snuggling into the oversized, plastic covered couch that was in the garage.

The garage was her favorite. Not only did it remind her of the 1950s magazine covers with their fake grass, plastic flamingos, and brightly colored, plastic covered furniture, but it was also where they always had family time. As much as Harley pushed to have her boys upstairs with them, it made sense to give them their own space to play.

It had only been about five minutes when she started to feel like she had taken an edible. Her body felt warm and fuzzy, and her lips pulled into a soft smile as their hostage was brought in and tossed on the terf covered floor in front of the couch.

"Hello again, silly head," she giggled at him before reaching her arms out to Joker to have him join her. "Come on Puddin, I saved ya the best seat in the house."

The tingling in her fingers had her feeling overly tactile and she wanted to run her fingers through his hair and over his skin. She wondered what her bruises would feel like if he were to touch them now, and how he would touch them.

When Bud and Lou were brought into the room, Harley squeaked with joy. She was always happy to see her favorite baby angels, and knowing they were going to make Mistah J proud they night had her smiling growing again.

"Ya wanna question him at all, Mistah J?" She laughed as she handed him the frosting covered knife she had used to cut the cake. "Or skip right to dessert?"

[ofdeardens]

It would seem that the war didn’t exactly put much change in her day-to-day life in some ways: another night, another bad guy, another fucking bloody nose. Crime, it seemed, would continue even in the shittiest of world orders. She’d taken an elbow to the face and the damned thing hadn’t stopped bleeding since, but even then Mia had come out on top despite the unfortunate three-on-one mugger scenario she’d walked herself right into. She’d taken out the first two with a net arrow, but the last one was fast and they’d ended up in close quarters. She didn’t think her nose was broken, just gushing like a goddamn mall fountain. The split in her lip was more annoying than anything, and otherwise she wasn’t all that worse for wear - she’d taken more than a few hits (a lot more than a few) and she was absolutely going to be sore in a number of places in the morning, but she’d still consider it a success. The kick she delivered to the side of the now-unconscious man on the ground was absolutely unnecessary but things got a little personal with the hit to the face. “Oracle, I’m all clear.” Her voice came out a little more muffled than usual, and she took a moment to ease down her mask - little hard to breathe with the fabric in place considering the nosebleed. “You wanna put in a tip to the local PD to come pick up these sons-of-bitches?” She swiped at her nose with her sleeve, scrunching it up and wiggling it around to confirm that it wasn’t in fact a break. And that was when she heard a noise behind her - a footstep, distinct (if quiet), and she pulled that mask back up before she turned around.

“I’ve kinda had a busy night.” She cocked her head in the direction of the the man that she’d left on the ground. “Like, really busy. Can we skip the whole me having to beat your ass thing? I totally will, if that’s where this is headed, but I could use a goddamn second to catch my breath.”

[side-of-puddin]

Harley had been sitting on the fire escape above the fight, enjoying a nice grilled chicken taco as she watched the three goons her Puddin' was interviewing get their asses handed to them. Goons. They were always useless, but ever since the aliens and whatever, good help had been impossible to find. Tonight was their chance to get on her good side and make the team, but as far as she saw, they all still needed some resume builders.

She had climbed down once it was over and she heard the name Oracle slip from the other woman. Who was this chick? What was she doin' interrupting her night without inviting her to join in?

"Yeah, I can see that," she laughed before winding up to kick one of the guys right in the gut. Pathetic. "Ya did pretty okay, 'specially against three of these bafoons."

Harley wasn't necessarily looking for a fight so much as a conversation. She wanted to find out if this mask was gonna be a problem for her and Mistah J. If she was just planning on taking out low level competition, Harley might even offer some protection. If she wasn't though, Harley's bat was very good at making first impressions.

"May I politely ask who the fuck are you? Oh and also, why ya didn't think ta carry a tampon around for that? That's first grade shit, sweetheart." She gestured to the obvious bloody nose before reaching in her pocket to throw one across to her.

[clownking-ofcrime]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley’s smile quickly turned into a gentle pout.

“You’re not taking it with me, Puddin?” She asked as she held the little blue baggy up to her cheek. She wanted to try it, wanted the new rush of something dangerous, but she wanted it with him. If she wanted to get high in her own she could have taken it outside the factory and just reported back.

“We always do stuff together on date night.” She gave him the big puppy eyes and a slightly more playful pout. She had the cake, the drugs, the entertainment, but what was the point if he didn’t do it all with her.

Originally posted by winterswake

Joker raised a brow, turning to look at her and taking in the puppy eyes she afforded. Ah. Moving quickly into the role she wanted him to play, he hummed. “I was just giving you a headstart, babydoll. Like a gentleman.” She wanted a gentleman sometimes. Someone to whirl and twirl her. Catching her hand, he rather abruptly pulled her into a spin to bring her back close. “Don’t pout at me, princess. You’ll spoil the fun.”

Reaching to take the pills from her, he quirked a brow. “Open your mouth, Harley Barley,” he purred to her, his electric blue eyes fixed on her with clear intention. The center of his world for just a moment. He could still see the blood on her skin where his handkerchief had smeared it away. Poor little kitten. 

[side-of-puddin]

It was a whirlwind of emotions, as it always qas with him. The closeness of him had her melting into his arms, and his words had her head spinning. It was always strange trusting him more than anyone or anything while still getting the "dangerous" anxiety screaming in her head. Not only that but, the last thing she wanted was to wreck the mood. She had worked too hard and gotten too happy to let something like her own wants get in the way.

She looked in his perfectly blue eyes and held his gaze for a moment before smiling and opening her lips to stick out her tongue. He wouldn't let anything happen to her, she knew that, but would he actually join in? She supposed it was too late as she felt the little blue capsule wiggle down her throat. He would join in. He was just being a gentleman, like he said.

"I'll see ya on the other side then, Puddin," she grinned before leaning in to kiss him while he was still close and focused on her.

[clownking-ofcrime]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley loved when they got her babies involved in the family business. Her eyes sparkled as the notion of being all wrapped up with him with Bud and Lou filled the air with pieces of some guy.

“Oh, Puddin’, can we please do the second one?” She knew better than to outright choose, especially if she wanted to keep him in this good mood. “Chocolate cake, while high, and watchin the dismemberment of a guy who dared ta test *my* Mistah J? Oh, ya know how much I love a good night in with ya, don’t ya Puddin.”

She did a little excited tip tap in front of him, her eyes locked on his happily even as she snapped her finger for the nearest goon to go get her boys.

“I knew you’d be happy,” she grinned wide.

Originally posted by ladiesblr

That got her. He liked the gleam in her eyes. “You got it, baby,” he promised her. He could indulge. He was an indulgent kinda guy. What could he say? “And then, when all’s said and done, you and me got a show to plan.” Meaning he’d plan it, and she’d do what he told her to do. That was how it went, and she had known it since the beginning. Their little world fit in quite perfectly. “Why don’t you pop some of it while I have the boys bring out your babies?” And then he could get a sense of how quickly things hit, how they affected. How much of a dosage could he use before it just stopped a heart, he wondered. He wouldn’t do that to Harley, though. It’d be a waste. And finding good help was so hard to do, after all. Most of his goons didn’t even have half a brain in their head without someone telling them what to do.

“I’ll put on a record,” he mused. “Something classic.” His fingers ran over his albums, considering for a moment before choosing a mix of good jazz standards. He had a collection ranging from modern pop to rap to jazz, his taste as chaotic as he was, but he had a special soft spot for crooners like Sinatra. And there was something poetic to such music over top gratuitous violence. At least in his own opinion.

[side-of-puddin]

Harley's smile quickly turned into a gentle pout.

"You're not taking it with me, Puddin?" She asked as she held the little blue baggy up to her cheek. She wanted to try it, wanted the new rush of something dangerous, but she wanted it with him. If she wanted to get high in her own she could have taken it outside the factory and just reported back.

"We always do stuff together on date night." She gave him the big puppy eyes and a slightly more playful pout. She had the cake, the drugs, the entertainment, but what was the point if he didn't do it all with her.

[clownking-ofcrime]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley clapped her hands excitedly before erupting into giggles with him. His laugh echoed through her every breath and filled her lungs with the same,warm fuzzy feeling that came from fruit punch moonshine.

“Ya wanna deal with the jabroni we got in the trunk together first, or is torture more of a brunch date this time of year?”

Her hands were already curling in the fabric of his shirt, the adrenaline from the night mixing deliciously with the thought of doing anything with him.

Originally posted by bestpinkfloyd

“Ya wanna do it now? Or should we see if the Bliss makes it more of a ball?” Worse came to worse, one of Joker’s boys’d pop the fellow if he became too much for him and his clown queen to handle. Not likely. “Or we could always give Bud and Lou a present and eat dessert over a colorful show?” He wasn’t particularly drawn to anything. He’d rather her happy, because he already had what he wanted for the evening. Without a doubt. Happy Harley meant pliant Harley, and that was just how he liked her. Ready and willing to do what he asked when he asked it.

His gloved hand came up to cover hers where she clung to his shirt, brow lifting.

[side-of-puddin]

Harley loved when they got her babies involved in the family business. Her eyes sparkled as the notion of being all wrapped up with him with Bud and Lou filled the air with pieces of some guy.

"Oh, Puddin', can we please do the second one?" She knew better than to outright choose, especially if she wanted to keep him in this good mood. "Chocolate cake, while high, and watchin the dismemberment of a guy who dared ta test *my* Mistah J? Oh, ya know how much I love a good night in with ya, don't ya Puddin."

She did a little excited tip tap in front of him, her eyes locked on his happily even as she snapped her finger for the nearest goon to go get her boys.

"I knew you'd be happy," she grinned wide.

[clownking-ofcrime]

side-of-puddin​:

Harley felt her cheeks going hot as Joker gently cleaned her up. She dropped her heels on the floor and tilted her face slightly to place a gentle kiss on his thumb.

“Well remember those guys ya wanted me to talk ta about Bliss?” She asked as she gave a gentle pout, “They humbly accepted our offer and even sent us home with a a goodie bag.”

She giggled a little before presenting a tiny pink pouch filled with Bliss. It was enough for two people to try, and she figured between that and the cake they could have a fun late night.

“I go ta leave, and wouldn’t ya know the maroons try and gut me? Said they were gonna take over the city with this Bliss stuff, and that they didn’t have time fa clowns. Now you know me, Mistah J, I’m not the kinda gal ta take discrimination lightly.”

She pulled the left over grenade out of her pocket and handed it to him with a grin, along with the keys, and the three used grenade rings.

“So I decided ta do the right thing and kill them in a giant firey explosion. Oh! Except for one guy who’s still tied up in the van full of their drugs I stole.”

When he mentioned the cake, Harley opened the box to reveal the most decadent chocolate cake she could find.

“Ya mean death by chocolate with chocolate genach, chocolate mousse, crumbled oreos, and chocolate chips?” The top of the cake had a big green J shakily done in frosting on the top, an addition the baker wasn’t expecting to have to make when Harley robbed him.

Originally posted by deckcrs

Originally posted by deckcrs

“Wowee, Harley Barley,” he responded, pleased as punch that she had gotten him exactly what he had wanted. Everything he needed for the little game he was planning. Perhaps he’d get the Bat’s attention. Or perhaps he’d get everyone’s attention. Whatever it was, Joker wanted to put on a show. And so he would, and Harley had just handed him the key to the city. 

“Sounds like you had had a good and civil discussion and they were the ones who were terribly rude. Even I draw the line at such blatant prejudice. I’m an equal opportunity clown. Really, you did this town a service.” And he won the game vicariously.

He let his head fall back as he laughed, the sound filling the room before he caught her waist. “You always know how to put a smile on my face, baby. Dessert and then an after-dinner mint. Let’s have a helluva time.”

[side-of-puddin]

Harley clapped her hands excitedly before erupting into giggles with him. His laugh echoed through her every breath and filled her lungs with the same,warm fuzzy feeling that came from fruit punch moonshine.

"Ya wanna deal with the jabroni we got in the trunk together first, or is torture more of a brunch date this time of year?"

Her hands were already curling in the fabric of his shirt, the adrenaline from the night mixing deliciously with the thought of doing anything with him.