𝓙- 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓴𝓪.

"𝑵𝒐 𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒆, 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒔." 𝓙𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓪𝓱 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓴𝓪. 🄼🅂+🄼🅅. 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜. 𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔/𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙱𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕. #𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓾𝓵𝓖𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻

oh! well thanks. he’s just a grumpy boy.

oh, here’s the clown prince of crime and he looks like shit as always.

❥ She knows she’s beautiful. A very beautiful woman. ❥

“Every good show has a pretty face in the center of it.” Gently gripping her chin with a smile. “And that’s you.” And the niceness is over once he walks out the door to start yelling at the idiots.

Jeremiah let out a chuckle, “You seem rather excited about this.” He’s going to get the idiots to start loading up everything they will need. “Make sure you look extra lovely. I want you to be the star of the show.” what a grin.

“Go put on your best show costume then! We’re takin over Halys!” NO PLEASE GOD NO.

IDEA. Looking to get, a sly evil grin tugging at his lips. “What if we gave Gotham a real show?” NO.

There’s a brief pause and a look of disgust. “I suppose you wanna go pay everyone a visit?” if he went it wouldn’t be a nice reunion.

is that? a smile?? a REAL smile? her laughing was music to his ears. “Hey, dont let her hear you say that. she’ll have my head.” He jokes with a little laugh.

“More along the lines, didn’t think we’d be civil in the same room at all.” A chuckle and he’s returning his attention to who knows what on the desk. seems more like he’s zoned out.

Tossing her the lighter, taking the joint out of his mouth and exhaling a cloud. “Well, i was a buzz kill. Just a stupid little nerd who was to afraid to be who he was meant to be.” A shrug, he’s finally taking off those glasses and looking up at her. “Whole new man, huh?”

God, you’re so needy. ˙ooʇ noʎ ssᴉɯ ᴉ

“Then enlighten me.” Taking it and striking the lighter to it, that flame reflecting off of his glasses and eyes. “Besides, you never told me what you actually think of me.” Tilting his head, joint in his mouth, can this man please STOP.

I want him in my lap where he belongs, right fucking now.

Putting the box on the desk, followed by his legs. Now he’s just getting comfortable. “I don’t think i want your psychiatric view, Harley.” A roll of his eyes. Let’s see just how ballsy Harley can get with Jeremiah?

“Then you don’t know me at all, my dear.” And he’s reaching in another drawer to pull out a box of rolling papers, bowls, you name it. “How do you think i’m always so calm?”

Folding up the papers and putting them in one of the drawers on his desk. “No, i was going over some plans.” She’s lucky he doesn’t kick her off. “Well, we could always torture people, massive genocide, or-“ and out comes the pot bag that’s he’s tossing on the desk.

Eyebrow raised, he’s looking up at her through strands of green, glasses on. “What could i possibly do for you, Miss Quinn?” Leaning back in his chair now, folding his arms over his chest.

Mums the word. She knows where he is if she wants something.