Jan. 8th, 2009

clownlovin: (broken photo)
There were lines you didn’t cross, Harley knew. She had learned to read him like a book over the years. She generally knew pretty well when she was crossing one of those lines. But sometimes, without warning, her Puddin’, her honey pie, would just snap. And she didn’t even see it coming.

This was one of those times, and Harley was shaking it off at Pammy’s. She played with a bright plastic cup with a whimsical design on it. Bright colors made brightly colored mice that danced around the edges bottom of the glass. It was hers for whenever she was here.

And she was here a lot.

She tried to think of what she had done this time.

If something in the hideout had been wrong. If she had brought back the wrong type of gun. If she had circled when she should’ve zig zagged.

Harley sighed.

It was hard, trying to figure out what lines you crossed with the Joker. And which would account for a broken arm and a black eye.

She had crossed a Line. She just didn’t know what line that was.


Muse: Harley Quinn
Fandom: DC Comics
Word Count: 187
clownlovin: (OMGWHUT?)
Harley at seventeen had been an oddball in her family. She dyed her hair blonde; when she could get away with it she wouldn’t eat kosher. She didn’t do a lot of things that her parents constantly told her a good Jewish girl her age should. She also thought listening to her German grandparents go on and on and on and on and on and on and on was so very depressing. And not worth her time.

Though Chanukah wasn’t the gift giving holiday that Christmas was she still had high expectations. (Harley had also decided she liked Christmas better. Brighter, cheerier, more colors and they decorated trees!) Those expectations were trashed though when she opened what was obviously going to be the first of eight pointless and miserable gifts.

She grimaced and held the book at arm’s length like she didn’t quite understand how it had even gotten in the package in the first place. “A Holocaust book, Mame?” she asked, looking up at her mother who was smiling in that way she had.

“It’s a part of your past, you know. Read it, it won’t be as bad as you think.”

“Do I have to?” Harley whined.

“Yes, damnit!” her Father’s voice called out from the kitchen.

“Awwwwww,” this was going to suck so hard.


Muse: Harley Quinn
Fandom: DC Comics
Word Count: 217


clownlovin: (Default)
Harley Quinn

January 2009

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