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FUN FATALE.

@quinnzical-blog / quinnzical-blog.tumblr.com

i know what you think of me. you think i'm just A DOLL. a doll that's pink & light. a doll you can arrange any way you like. you're wrong. VERY WRONG. what you think of me is only a ghost of time. i am dangerous. AND I WILL SHOW YOU JUST HOW DARK I CAN BE. IND HARLEY QUINN. WRITTEN BY BRI. #QUINNZICAL. EST OCT '14.
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'      shove  a  sock  in  it,   HARLEEN !      i  can’t  hear  myself  think  over  all  your  blabberin’.     ‘      fingernails  chip  away  at  black  polish,      teeth  gnawing  the  inside  of  her  alabastrine  cheek  raw.      concentration  pull  her  brows  into  a  harsh  furrow,      building  frustrations  relinquished  in  a  heavy  huff.       decisions,     decisions     //    what’s  right,    what’s  wrong ?      what’s  good,     what’s  bad ?      DO  IT      -----    DON’T. 

                         shut  up,    shut  up,    shut  up !      ‘       know  it  all.           she’s  all  rough  edges  and  venomous  spite.    //   @clowngore

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“  —–  you’re lucky i’m soft on you, kiddo.  “    she dulls her edges some & tucks poison betwixt teeth & tongue; softness is buried in the recesses of her smile.  her chest is knotted with rose vines  //  breaths tainted with saccharine.  “  i’ll forgive you for it this time, harls. just don’t go makin’ a habit of it, i can’t give you a free pass just because you’re cute.   “
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‘      what’s  the  point  of  bein’  this  cute  if  ya  can’t  use  it  to  your  advantage ?      ‘      her  nimble  figure  collapses  into  a  bed  of  silk  sheets,     dainty  sigh  slipping  free  of  her  mouth.      palms  settle  delicately  over  her  costumed  chest.       ‘      speakin’   of    --     i’ve  been  thinkin’.      ‘ 

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i  had  a  little  psa  post  about  this  during  my  last  revamp,    but  since  i  deleted  all  of  my  posts,      let  me  make  it  again.      if  you  also  write  harley  please  don’t  ever  be  afraid  to  approach  my  blog  !!      i  know  that  some  have  their  own  personal  reasons  as  to  why  they  don’t  want  to  follow  /  acknowledge  duplicates  and  that’s  totally  fine  !!      but  that  has  not  and  will  not  ever  be  an  issue  on  this  blog.      i  don’t  ever  have  enough  people  to  talk  to  about  her,     and  hey !       think  of  all  the  super  rad  things  we  could  do  with  all  of  the  various  versions  of  our  fav  cupid  of  crime.  :~ ) 

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i need to take a step back from coding before i RIOT so i’m gonna go play some games or smth for a few until i’m ready to tackle it again.      in the meantime feel free to like this post for a starter !      i haven’t seen suicide squad yet so it’ll definitely be something comic centric and,      knowing harley,      probably a little wild. 

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“   didn’t mommy teach you that no means no?    “   she pinches the bridge of her nose betwixt venomous digits, a sigh pulling from the depths her lungs    “   especially when she tells you not to touch her things.   “   
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     how  ‘bout  a  smooch  ta  make  it  all  better ?      ‘      infatuated  petals  bloom  to  life  from  the  harlequin’s  cherry  trimmed  mouth  in  grand  display  of  a  smile.      a  sweet  smile.      used  specially  for  desires  as  harmless  as  this  one.      ‘      n’aw,    you’ll  forgive  me,    won’tcha  red ?      ‘   

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WARS  RAGING  in  her  mind .  ensnared   within   tangles  of   terror  at  the  hands  of   the  harlequin  queen  .   it’s   a   race   within  her   mind  ,  one  that  invokes  nothing  but  dread ,  pit  of  her  stomach  curdles  .  ‘   —–  i don’t  .. ‘   ticking  time   bomb  ,  yet  there’s  a  lump  that  craters  within   gwen’s  throat .  coarse  ,  dry  ,  unable  to   breath .  walls   closing  in   and  it’s   as  if   she  can  hear   the   time  running   out .   ‘   her .  ‘   lip   trembles  ,  lion  within  her  chest  failing  her   with  each  tackled  breath  let  out  into  the  thick  gotham  air  . ‘   her  ,   just  —-  stop .   please . ‘  
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‘      now,     was  that  so  hard ?      ‘      ever  condescending  to  her  terror  -  struck  victim,      she  ignores  her  desperate  pleas.      the  game’s  only  just  started !       her  wicked  cheshire  grin  is  the  only  thing  that  glows  in  the  funereal  atmosphere  of  this  room.      it’s  almost  eerie.      boney  fingers  take  the  blonde  by  her  arm,      projecting  her  toward  the  trembling  girl  backed  into  a  corner.      oh,    how  it  makes  her  innards  scream  to  see  her  caught  and  struggling  in  a  net  of  fear.      ‘      why  don’t  ya  do  the  honors ?      i’d  hate  to  get  blood  all  ova’  my  brand  new  shoes.      aren’t  they  just  the  cutest ?      ‘      she  skips  a  few  steps  forward,      gesturing  toward  her  feet  first  and  foremost  before  she  pulls  a  pistol  from  the  holster  attached  to  her  side.      ‘      leave  the  funny  business  to  me,    ya  got  it ?      ‘              

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‘      you  tried  to  kill  me,      you  big    J  E  R  K   !      ‘      hell  hath  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned.      she  stares  him  down  from  the  opposing  end  of  the  room,      sharp  like  a  razor.      polish  -  chipped  fingernails  curl  tight  into  the  soft  flesh  of  her  palms  as  though  it  could  really  keep  her  at  bay.      he’s  lit  the  short  fuse  of  her  explosive  ire  and  it’s  quickly  burning  down  with  a  sizzle  and  a  POP.      this  broken  heart  will  show  no  mercy.     

              now  i’m  gonna  bash  your  brains  in !      ‘      she’s  already  thought  about  this  long  and  hard,     played  out  the  scene  a  hundred  times  wrapped  in  the  circling  insanity  of  her  head.      it  only  ends   one  way  :    with  the  joker  DEAD.      and  so  it  shall  be.      she  moves  QUICK,     charging  toward  him,      strength  gathered  at  her  bleached  knuckles.      ‘     say  hi  to  the  fishies  for  me !       ‘      and  when  she  hits  him,     the  reflection  of  inflicted  evil  shines   b  r  i  g  h  t.      make  it  HURT,    baby.      //    @grinaniac

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‘      CHOOSE !      it’s  him  or  you,      blondie !      ‘      the  ringleader  of  this  show,     a  puppeteer  of  fate.      one  boy,     one  girl.      she  keeps  them  closely  confined  with  the  threat  of  her  blood  stained  weapons,      compelling  their  fearful  minds  to  play  her  twisted  g a m e s.      but  time  is  running  out !       and  she  is  becoming  oh  so  very  BORED   of  waiting.      tick  tock,     tick  tock.      she  cackles  the  sound  of  a  woman  who  has  long  since  gone   mad,    mad,   m a d.      ‘    who’s  it  gonna  be ?      you  ain’t  gonna  like  it  if  i  have’ta  pick !      ‘   //  @becomeshope

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