“Thank you, Pamela”, Harley smiled before turning on her heel to walk down the steps in front of her. Back to her four walls. Back to Jay and back to a house of memories, now covered in ivy and crumbling in on itself.
Before Harley could take the first step down, she felt soft fingers on her wrist once again. The touch made her feel alive. Suddenly a livewire capable of setting everything around her ablaze.
“Harls, wait –”
“Pam -”, Harley started strong, but lost her voice as she turned around to face the woman behind her. If her home was covered in invasive ivy, crumbling the woodwork and foundation as it grew, Pamela’s touch was something lighter, more heavenly… It felt as if the woman’s fingers grew into roots and kept her stood in place, welcoming her into the touch with every moment of passing warmth between the two women.
If Harley were going to continue on with her thought, it was long gone to the chill in the air.
“Do you want to go cruising with me tomorrow night? It’s Saturday and the drive-in is doing an ‘after Halloween special’ showing of the Creature from the Black Lagoon half price. I don’t know if you’re into that scene, but I’d love the company”, Pamela stammered the last sentence out as fast as possible.
Harley would have sworn that her stomach flew into her chest.
“D-drive-in?”, she managed to stutter out the question half-heartedly.
“Yes, ma’am”, Pamela looked down at her fingers still wrapped around Harley’s exposed wrist. She released the woman’s arm slowly, letting her own arm relax to her side. “Only if you want, no pressure.”
Chapter 5 of the 1950s au is up!~
check out the newest chapter of human touch here
don’t forget to check out my playlist to get ya in the mood
just your favorite gals chilling at home on a Saturday night bc there’s a pandemic going on and we gotta be responsible
a lil Dr. Pamela Isley from my 1950s au over on ao3 🌿💕
read human touch here
(Again I take no credit for this edit I just wanted to share it with more people, username is in the video to the creator I saw on tik tok)
Part 2 of emotional korrasami anniversary edits
Happy 6th anniversary <3
Is it just me or do you guys get wonderful Poison Ivy x Harley Quinn vibes from our girls Nadia and Portia ;)
So what if I go on a rebloging spree I want nothing but the best for my followers and mutuals
Also me rebloging your whole blog is how I show affection <3
Also don’t be shy I get serotonin from all the likes and reblogs I get, makes me feel like I’m not alone, I promise you’re not annoying me :D
(This is my chaotic wlw bisexual blog with memes sprinkled in)
“It’s a little odd ball if you ask me.”
Harley rounded the corner of the aisle, passing produce and grabbing a fresh peach as she paused her shopping cart. She’d be lying if she said her ears hadn’t perked up at the sound of Mrs. Page’s voice echoing from the deli.
“Riding around town in that car… Yes, yes – exactly.”
The blonde sloppily bent over the handle of the shopping cart. Leaning into the metal of the bar ached the growing bruise on her rib. She winced remembering last night. A stream of hot, salty tears and calloused knuckles.
“…and not a man in sight.”
“It’s 1954, Linda – don’t have a cow.”
“Vicki, what about that woman who comes and goes all hours of the day and night?”
Despite the tinge of hot pain in her ribs, Harley leaned further into the bar – trying to get her ears as close to the conversation as possible.
“I thought Ms. Kyle was going steady with that Bruce Wayne.”
“I swear I saw Wayne and Kyle out at Becky’s Diner on Saturday. They looked pretty cozy.”
Harley clacked her heels away from the whispers of rumors, pushing her cart in a haze of misty thoughts. The yellow shine of the overhead lights reflected off of the red and white checkered tile. The bright colors become muddied under the flicker.
A woman with another woman? The thought seemed like a rare moment, something pushed down and held close to the chest. A secret whisper that Harley would only let cross her ear in the dead of night. A small thought that found its way to her half-asleep dreams as she lay in bed next to a man who hadn’t touched her with love, tenderness, in years.
Harleen slipped her way into the first available checkout lane. The bagboy approached, as he always did, to unload her shopping cart. She smiled and listened to his small talk, but her mind was still somewhere between wanton, sleepy, half-dreams of soft fingertips and breathy kisses from pouting lips. Could such a touch exist in a world filled to the brim with such whispered judgments?
Chapter 3 of human touch (or the 1950s au) is available now!
Yes but no, i am chaotic, and this is my chaotic wlw blog
(But yes I do post a lot about adventure time and I love it and love everything about it)
Pamela Isley was dead. Six feet under. Cold as stone…
She was dead.
And it was all Harley’s Fault
Her glossy black flats clacked up to the second step and finally the third. Lucy stuck at her heels. Harley could feel her daughter against the back of her thighs trying to find some relief from another chilly breeze.
Harley moved her pie pan to her left hand, bracing it against her hip and raised her lithe fingers to the door. Before her pale fist could make contact with the slab of oak – the sound of the door unlocking and a loud creak rang out.
In the doorway stood a woman – undoubtedly their new neighbor. She wore a quirked eyebrow and a smirk played on her full red-painted lips. Her dark red hair full and thick, pinned back on either side of head. Her auburn locks seemed to glow as the sun peeked around the dark clouds above. Harley’s eyes darted from her hair to her lips, before landing on her eyes. Radiant and full of depth. A forest of inquisitive and vivid green.
A small chuckle escaped the woman’s mouth as she casually leaned against the doorframe. Her hands moved into the pockets of her high-waisted, flannel trousers. The grey material hugged the woman’s hips in a way that could only be described as sinful. Her white blouse tucked into them loosely, the buttons stopping too low for Harleen’s comfort. Heat rose to her neck and face, moving up her ears, as she noticed light freckles seemingly sprinkled about the woman’s exposed skin.
Blue eyes shot up to meet green. Unwavering, looking into her with steadfast curiosity.
She hissed out, “Dammit.”
The words slipped through Harley’s pink lips and into the cold air. The woman in front of her smiled slightly, her smirk growing as she released a small chuckle.
Chapter 2 of the 1950s au is upppp!
good fences make good neighbors
“we have been together for almost 9 years and you never told me that the only plants you know are corn and tomatos?”
“i also know peas!”
I love them so much.
They’re so happy together, so beautiful. They are not like other friendships: sometimes, some characters do favors, but not forever. But Poison and Harley love each other really well, always. They respect each other, always. They take care of each other, Poison really helps Harley a lot with the Joker, to get out of their toxic relationship. I really wish harley and poison had a nice happy ending.
Not technically a mood board, but just friendly reminder that they are cannon and 100% better then Jarley ￼and I will fight someone on that
changing the presentation bc i am that bitch
Harley occasionally convinces Ivy to go out and enjoy the nature. She however tries her best to spread as much green as she can. It’s not that she doesn’t like fall. But she feels when plants die so it is a hard time for her.
INSTEAD of working on my several prompts people have given me (thank yall very much by the way, i promise i will get to the rest of them, i have already started working on two more), i decided to write this, which is simply just a fic about Edward Nygma having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day for 2.5k words.