pit pulls

“Mother has been poisoned !” - Batfam x Reader (batmom)

Ok, Imma translate @laetitia-prst​‘s request (my fellow French person yo), so, basically : 

SUMMARY : Batmom has been poisoned by a new villain who wants to get known by killing the famous Bruce Wayne’s wife/partner. The batfamily is on edge, they gotta save her, because they’d be nothing without her…And then laetitia-prst talks about the ending and important plot points but hey, no fun if I translate that too right ? So here for poisoned bat mom,I feel like maybe it’s going a bit fast ? I didn’t really wanna make more than one part for this story so it’s long, and I’m afraid I might have rushed some things up…I hope you’ll still like it :s :  

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)


You were with Damian, asking some mango juice at the bar for him (the barman was being a dick, and refused to serve your son because “he was too young”, even though he didn’t want an alcoholic drink, so your quite annoyed self went to get it for him), when things went south. 

-Mother ? Mother are you alright ?! MOM !

You don’t really know what happened. You felt a painful prick on your thigh, where your fancy dress was opening slightly, as if you just got stung by a wasp, and all of a sudden…Everything went blurry. Next thing you know, your youngest son is trying to catch you before you hit the floor, and his arms are holding you with all his strength, as if afraid you’d disappear. 

-Father, father ! Dad ! DAD !! 

You can feel Damian shake, but you can’t see properly the line of his face…his distress is making your heart tighten, and you have to reassure him but when you try to raise a hand to cup his cheek and stroke it gently, nothing happen.

You hear more than you see Bruce falling on his knees next to you. You feel his hands taking you away from Damian, you feel your son resisting a bit, reluctant of letting you go, you feel yourself raising from the floor…But you don’t get it. 

What is happening ? 

Your vision is even more blurry than a few minutes before, and the last thing you hear before drifting into total darkness is Bruce saying : 

-What the Hell happened ? 

Everything goes dark as you fell unconscious. Your husband feels you go limp in his arms, but before he can really react, a man in the assistance, wearing a gaz mask and khakis stands on a table and, with his best evil laugh, says : 

-My names is Mutagen, and you can bet that by the end of this week, I’ll be the most famous criminal in all Gotham. Spread the word, especially to Batman.  

Jason almost catch him on the spot, but the man jumps out the window and disappears…Who the hell was he ? 

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anonymous asked:

Could you talk a little about "teacup" dogs? I know they're unethical and not real breeds, but I'm curious why they're unethical and what some of the problems associated with them are.

Dogs are living things that aren’t supposed to get smaller with every generation. Some of the ethical concerns with breeding them are:

  • High risk to the mother when pregnant being so small. This is both in terms of pregnancy complications, giving birth and developing hypocalcaemia when lactating.
  • Breeding runt dogs together - often closely related individuals, or individuals with other illnesses (eg liver shunts)
  • High risk of hydrocephalus. That bulging look to the skull with the eyes that look slightly apart instead of straight again? That’s hydrocephalus.
  • Seizures and other neurological abnormalities can occur secondary to the hydrocephalus.
  • High risk of hypoglycaemia (low blood sugar). This may be related both to their small size and potential liver issues
  • They often have abnormal joints, Medial Luxating Patella being the most common. And being so small, surgically correcting this dislocating kneecap is extremely difficult.
  • They’re also physically fragile, injuring themselves jumping off couches can fracture their legs, and they’re easy to accidentally severely injure underfoot.
  • Let’s not mention their frequent dental disease
  • Collapsing trachea is common, because the cartilage that holds open the airways is weak and small. Some dogs have a chronic cough, some dogs frequently faint, and this gets worse with age.
  • Liver shunts are a common cause on runty dogs, and unsurprisingly when you consistently breed runts together the condition becomes more common. Some of these dogs are treatable with surgery, some are not, but surgery is expensive and not all dogs are normal even with treatment.

Just don’t fall for this scam. These are living dogs, not objects that you can breed for fashion. Everyone I know who purchased one, who didn’t just pull the pit when managing it got expensive, regretted their purchase. 

Night Watch is one of Sir Terry’s most hopeless novels - and, by the same token, because of the same things, one of his most hopeful.

It’s a parody - and I use that word very loosely, because there’s really nothing funny about it - of Les Miserables. It’s about a failed revolution, and a barricade, and the people who fought and died there for nothing. Nothing changes. Politics with a capital P goes on, and even the most pure and noble of intentions only becomes food for the pit of snakes who pull the strings. The powerful remain powerful, the powerless, despite their solidarity, their desperation, their violence, their hope, remain powerless. Their little lives don’t count at all. Things continue exactly as they always have, minus a few faces in the crowd.

It is also, I think, where we see Sam Vimes at his lowest. Sure, Thud! does similar things in stripping him down, but that is under an outside influence, and he has his family to think of. He has something to fight for.

In Night Watch, though, all of that is taken away. Sam Vimes, eternal cynic, for once has Cassandraic knowledge that his cynicism is absolutely founded. He knows how this will end, and there’s no Corporal Carrot to make the world magically better around him, no Sybil and Young Sam to push through for, no city to protect. The absolute best that he can expect is to succeed, and lose that family, that future, forever. The absolute worst? He dies. Everyone he cares about here dies. And it’s all in vain.

Sam Vimes is an alcoholic. It’s something that we tend to bring up when we’re talking about how amazing he is, how much he’s overcome, but gloss over otherwise. Which is a little sad, because it’s fundamental.

Sam Vimes faced this exact dragon, years ago. Sam Vimes saw there was no way to slay it. He saw the ants eating at the heart of every hope, every effort. He saw the first man he really knew as a good and kind and just - but never passive, never weak - man die, horribly, slain for no reason but petty grudge and Politics. He saw John Keel’s garden wither and die in its bed. He saw the hope of a better, brighter Ankh-Morpork squelched, and the sacrifice of a good man wasted. He saw the world, in all of its rotting, miserable, pestilent despair, spoiling every good thing that dared show its face, its only ordering principle the slow decay of entropy.

Young Sam Vimes had no anchor. Young Sam Vimes had nothing left to turn to but the bottom of a bottle and the smelliest part of an Ankh-Morpork gutter.

Sam Vimes, as of the events of Night Watch, is back there. Not only physically temporally displaced. He has nothing. There is no reason for him to stand up, to take on the role of John Keel, to take responsibility for the barricade, to try to bring Carcer back to justice. To fight the doomed fight. There is nothing between him and finding a quiet seat at the Broken Drum, ordering himself a pint, and giving up. There is nothing between him and despair.

But he gets up anyway. He intervenes anyway. He tries to help anyway, even when he can’t believe it will make any difference. And it doesn’t, in the end.

Except that people lived who, save for the actions of John Keel, would have died. Except it quite literally meant the world to them.

And that’s where the hope is hiding, in this hopeless, bleak, despair of a book. There is no glory. There is no revolution. There is no good thing that cannot be corrupted. There is no point. Except.

The Disc turns on the ‘except’. Always has. Always will.

#5 V: Daughter with a resemblance to dead MC

#5 V: RFA + Minor Trio’s daughter with MC who passed away with an uncanny resemblance to her, making them seemingly resent her.

Link to others here


- The 10 year olds twins resembled everyone of V’s aspects between his mint hair, crystal blue eyes, and his sweet and charming smile.

- While the 4 year old daughter had long brown hair and yellow eyes, a small face and cute smile.

- She convinced herself she was ugly, however, because whenever her daddy looked at her,

- He cried.

- The earliest memory of him crying at her face was when she was three. She had been out in the garden and found a blue stone.

- It reminded her of her daddy’s hair!

- She was excited to show it to him, so she rushed into his studio and shouted, “Daddy! I found a mini you!”

- He turned around in his chair and the moment his eyes made contact with her golden eyes, he saw MC.

- He saw MC standing in front of him with her perfect smile and the stone in her hands.

- And then all he could see was her in the hospital bed, holding their little daughter as she slowly passed away, fading into darkness.

- His eyes watered and he turned back in his chair to hide his face from his daughter, but his quivering voice and sniffles gave him away.

- “Just leave it over there. I’ll look at it later.”

- Of course, the little girl misinterpreted this as her being some horrocious monster or what not.

- Why else would he not look at her?

- It made her sad, but moreover she felt felt bad for her daddy for having the misfortune of an ugly daughter.

- She took note of the subtle ways he’d prevent himself from having to look at her.

- Whenever she was in the room, he’d turn his body in coordination from where she’d walk to.

- At the dinner table, he positioned himself right next to her.

- Originally, she thought it was because he wanted to be with her, but she quickly realized it was so he wouldn’t accidentally look at her.

- Even the twins believed he acted the way he did because she was ugly.

- As if she didn’t already know, they reminded her everyday.

- “Your hair is so scraggly,” one boy would say.

- “Your eyes are so dull,” the other would say.

- “No wonder daddy doesn’t love you!” they would both chime together.

- The little girl curled up into a ball on her bed and cried herself to sleep. She made sure her sobs were quiet so daddy wouldn’t have to come in and check on her and accidently see her face.

- Around midnight she sat up in her bed and wiped at her face, heading to the bathroom with a pair of scissors.

- She took a large breath before snipping away at hair hair, cutting strand by strand until her hair was nearly to her shoulders.

- But it was incredibly uneven,

- And now her sobs were full on wails as she realized she made it worse.

- She thought if she got rid of the long hair then maybe she wouldn’t be as ugly! But instead, bits of hair now stuck out and the front was shorter than the back.

- She fell to the ground, dropping the scissors into the pit of hair and pulled her knees to her chest.

- “I’ll never be pretty for daddy.”

- There was a sudden knock at the door that the little girl decided to ignore. She had a feeling it was her brothers and she didn’t want to hear their taunts,

- So she just kept herself huddled into a ball.

- She winced as she heard the door scrape against the floor indicating it was opening, and the poor girl prepared herself for the assaults she was bound to hear.

- But a soft voice surprised her.

- “Oh, honey.”

- It was her father.

- She felt warm arms wrap around her small form and she was pulled against V’s chest, who hugged her tightly.

- He rested his cheek on the top of her head and let her cry into his shirt, her little hands gripping onto the fabric.

- He petted what was left of her hair and softly asked, “Why did you do this?”

- “So I could be pretty for you,” She sniffled.

- V, the poor soul confused, pulled away and cupped his little girl’s cheek, wiping away at the tears with this thumb.

- “Why would you say that?”

- “Because you always cry when you see me. It’s because I’m ugly!– Look, you’re crying now, Daddy!”

- V touched a hand to his face, and to his surprise, there was a lone tear sliding down his cheek. He scooped up the tear with his thumb and stared at it rather intensely. He hadn’t even realized he was crying.

- Softly, he smiled and lifted her up so he could turn her in his lap. He picked up the scissors and set out the fix her hair, and he gently kissed her temple first.

- As he began to trimming her hair, he whispered gently, “There’s a story I think you need to hear. It’s about a superhero.”

- “A superhero?” The girls voice perked up and V chuckled.

- “Yes, a superhero. Well, a superhero in my eyes.”

- He began his story: “There was once a young woman named MC who had beautiful long, brown hair and yellow eyes, who met a man who was incredibly damaged, physically and mentally, after a bad encounter with a supervillain. The super villain had maimed the man by taking out his eyes and berating him with words. The young woman saw that this man was in trouble and needed to be saving, so she did everything in her power to rescue him. Whilst rescuing this man, MC fell in love with him, and he fell in love with her, and once the man was saved from the evil villain and had recovered, they married each other.

- “MC didn’t stop helping others after saving the man from the supervillian. Everyday she strived to make sure others lived in comfort. She helped a failing college student study, an actor learn his lines, a overworked assistant start a new business, a corporate heir find their cat, and a weirdo save his brother. They were always so grateful for MC for being their super hero.

- “Later, her job as a superhero had to be put on hold because she gave birth to two twins, and a few years later, became pregnant with another child. During her 8th month of her 2nd pregnancy however, MC game across two arguing people. The two arguing were very violent and aggressive towards each other, but even so, she tried to help them. Sadly, MC was gravely wounded and was rushed to the hospital.

- “MC knew she was going to die because she had lost a lot of blood, and extremely vital organs had been hit, but before she died, she gave birth to a beautiful daughter. The nurses handed her the baby girl, and she gently weeped as she held the girl in her arms. She could feel her life drifting away, but she couldn’t die without naming the beautiful daughter she brought to the world. Her last words were, ‘I name her Mi Young’.”

- The little girl’s eyes lit up, a sudden sparkle in her golden eyes. “That’s my name!”

- V smiled.

- “Yes. Do you know who MC is? She’s your mother.”

- “M-my mommy?”

- “Yes, your mother. Do you know what Mi Young means? It means ‘everlasting beauty.’ She named you that because you are a truly beautiful girl… just like your mother.”

- “Do you think I’m beautiful?”

- “Of course I do. You have every stunning feature of your mother and more… and I am so sorry for making you feel as if I didn’t love you or think you were pretty. And you are even prettier now.”

- The little girl had completely forgot that she had cut her hair. Her father lifted her up so she could see herself in the mirror. The snarly hair was now neatly done to her shoulders, and she smiled, happy with herself and how she looked.

- She caught her father off guard by wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

- “I love you, daddy.”

- V smiled into the side of her head. “I love you too.”


This was the first one where I gave the child a name. I’m not sure if I will do it for the rest - I thought it was important for this one that the girl had a name.

Check out my masterlist for more!



This was requested ages ago by @irish-rose-24 and I’m so sorry it took so long to get to! It’s very bad and I’m very sorry 😐

73 I’m stuck! Help me!
97 Take off your shirt

Warnings: Cursing? Sarky Jug and Reader. Bad grammar probably

Jughead the absolute genius thought it would be a great idea to investigate down by Sweetwater River at 11pm on a Saturday night, to follow up on a new theory he had on the murder of Jason Blossom. Of course, you didn’t want him going down there that late on his own, so you tagged along.

“Jesus Jug, what are we even looking for? We’re out here at 11pm and it’s dark and you still haven’t told me your theory!” You said as you pulled your coat up further around your neck.

“Jason’s body was found about half a mile south down the river and he must have floated downwards so I’m looking for any clues on the left bank for a mile up, bullet holes in trees and the like.” Jughead explained, scanning a tree with his flashlight.

Betty and Jughead had been working on the Jason Blossom case for the Blue and Gold for about a month when you had joined into a conversation at lunch about it and from that moment had and been recruited to the paper and joined them in their sleuthing.

You and Jughead had been friends for quite a few years and for the majority of those years, you had been totally, hopelessly, completely in love with him. So when he had text to say he was headed to the forest at 10pm in the pitch dark; of course you were coming.

“Hey Poirot, what do you think this is?” You call to Jughead as you find an odd patch of ground. Inspecting it closer, you get on your hands and knees and poking it a bit. The leaves looked a weird texture so you leaned in closer and next thing you knew the ground beneath your hands and knees had slipped from under you and you were falling. Hitting the bottom of the hole you had fallen into with a thud, pain radiated through your body.

“Jug! C’mere!” No answer.

“Jughead!” Nothing.

“Forsythe Pendleton Jones III!” Using his full name always got his attention.

“Y/N? Where are you?” You heard him coming closer.

“I’m stuck! Help me! There’s a hole in the ground so watch where you’re going!” You said as the light from the flashlight and Jughead’s face came into view above you.

“Well what are you doing down there Y/N/N?” Jug smirked down at you.

“Oh just chilling, wanna come down?” You snarked “It’s one of Doiley’s fucking traps for hunting with the scouts. It’s not deep, but I can’t climb out.”

Jughead’s arm reaches into the pit to pull you out as you step on your tiptoes to catch his hand.

“It’s no good, I can’t reach you. Is there anything down there to step on to boost you up?” Jughead looks at you worriedly.

“Oh yeah! Look! There’s a stepladder, let me just get it!” You snap at him. Your feet are soaked from the rainwater at the bottom of the hole and there are spiders everywhere.

“Okay smartass. Calm down, we’ll get you out. We’ll figure something out, let’s face it, this isn’t the most difficult situation you and I have found ourselves it.” He laughs down at you.

Jug was looking around fro something to reach you with.

“Juggie! I have an idea. Take off your shirt.” Not realising how crazy you sounded you smiled up, pleased with your seemingly genius plan.

Jughead’s eyes popped out of his head as he stared down at you with his mouth hanging open.

“Excuse me?” He sounded completely incredulous and you hadn’t noticed the slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Not like Your flannel! The one around your waist! Take it off and lower it down and I’ll climb up.” His face softed slightly at this as he saw what you were getting at.

He unwrapped his flannel from around his waist and throws one sleeve down to you and you grab on. He pulled and you climed up the flannel and as you reached over the top over the hole you both fell back onto the soft leaves behind you.
You both lay there panting for a minute when Jughead started to laugh.

“Only us Y/N. This stuff could only happen to us. It’s always an adventure isn’t it?” He looked over and you and saw you smiling at the treetops and in that moment he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, mud and leaves in your hair and all. But, obviously, you couldn’t read minds. He wished he had the guts to say something.

“Of course it is Jug. It’s Jughead and Y/N, famous for their adventures and countless stories.” You laughed.

Silence fell over the two of you for a few minutes as you continued to lay there, (which, in reflection, was probably extremely dangerous, but when you were with each other you felt as safe as could be.)
Jughead stood up and peeked down into the hole.

“You fell deep Y/N. Did you hurt anything?” He turned his flashlight to you as you hid your face in your hands.

“Just my pride. Don’t worry, I’m okay.” You replied, smiling at his concerned face.
Jughead was kneeling down beside you checking your face for injuries.

“Good, dunno what I’d do without my Miss Marple.” He said with his hand still on your cheek.

You had had enough. This proximity was killing you. The overwhemling urge to kiss him set in and this time, you knew you had to take action.



“Jug, since I’ve known you I’ve liked you and in the more recent years I’ve fallen in love with you and I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way and I really hope that by saying this I haven’t ruined our friendship but I just had to say something otherwise –“ Your rambling was prompty cut off by a pair of lips crashing into yours. You were frozen and couldn’t respond for a second but once your brain realised what was actually happening you kissed back. This kiss wasn’t long, but it was a kiss full of all the words that needed to be spoken and all the bottled up feelings.

Pulling away, you saw Jug smirking at you.

“That felt long overdue.” You laughed and replied

“Yeah. About 4 years overdue.”

“Y/N everything you said, I feel the same. I was just afraid to say anything because, well – if you didn’t feel the same and I’d be lost without you and I love you too.” Smiling, you kissed him again. This kiss was different, with you holding his face and him pulling you in by the hips, both wanting to feel as close as possible to the other.

“C’mon we better go. Pop’s?” Jug suggested.

You both started walking back towards the road when you felt a hand snake it’s way into yours. You smiled up at Jug and found he was already looking down at you.

“You know, this is gonna make a great story someday. ‘Hey Y/N and Jughead, tell us the story of your first kiss.’ Oh well, first I was doing some sleuthing and this idiot fell into a hole, then she asked me to strip off all my clothes, then she got all soppy and started rambling so I kissed her and told her I loved her.” Jughead explained as you hit his arm.

“Always have to be such a drama queen, don’t you Jones?” You sassed.

“May be a drama queen, but I’m your drama queen.” He said sliding his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of you head.

“Cheeseball.” You giggled.

Looking on, you would have seen a young couple, making their way to their favourite spot, joking around, very much in love. It would have looked like an ideal moment.

It was. The first of many, many more to come.

School Bullies

This past summer I went on a school trip fro two weeks, for a baseball tournament. I was really excited to be going with all of my friends, It was going to be so much fun, but things didn’t work out the way I had planned. On the bus ride to the hotel our coach told us that we will be partnered up alphabetically to share rooms with. This sucked because my two best friends ended up being paired together while I was stuck with a senior named Ben. Ben stood at around five foot ten inches and was extremely muscular. He seemed like a cool guy, although I had never really talked to him much.ben was known for two things by the team, his non stop sweating armpits, and his humongous ass. I mean his ass was crazy big, no matter what pants he wore it was always breaking their limit. When we got to the hotel our coach told us to head up to our rooms unpack, meet for dinner at seven thirty and then head straight to bed due to an early practice in the morning. I grabbed my suitcase and stated toward the stairs when Ben came up from behind me and slapped my ass really hard. “Get ready for a whole lot of fun dude” he said as he strode past me. Once I arrived in the room after lugging my suitcase up four flights of stairs Ben was already there unpacking in only a loose fitting pair of plaid boxers. “ hey man” I stated awkwardly as I slowly closed the door behind myself. He glanced up at me with a devilish smirk and answered “sup bro”.
For the next hour or so we both unpacked quietly until he picked up his phone and went to our bathroom. While he was going I picked up my phone a decided to let my parents know that all was going well, I texted them and while I was waited for a reply I did not hear Ben come out of the bathroom, until all of a sudden I look up from my phone and his huge ass is right in front of my face. Before I even have the chance to react he rips a massive fart right in my face. The smell instantly hits me and I begin to gag over and over agiain. Ben doubles over with laughter, two smaller farts escape his ass while he’s laughing. “What the hell man!” I shout as he still laughs on the ground. “That was so disgusting!”. I just stare at Ben with shock until he finally controls himself. He stands up and says between laughter" dude there is so much more where that came from, just wait til after dinner.“ I am so shocked by what he just said, but I dont want him to think I’m such a stiff so I decide to play along . I force myself to laugh and then say ” ha ha very funny" to which he replies so seriously “ no dude I’m serious just wait until after I get some food in my system.” After he says that he pulls in a pair of gym shorts and walks out of the room with his shirt and shoes in his hand.All throughout dinner I was so nervous, the food was served buffet style and while I was getting my food Ben walks past me and says “mmhhhh, they’ve got beans” After I got my food I sat with my friends and could not help myself but to glance over a Ben every two seconds. He had a huge pile of beans on his plate, some broccoli, two slices of pizza, and a can of coke. I knew he had gotten all of those things intentionally. Once dinner was over our coach had a quick meeting with the entire team. After the meeting was over I lagged behind to talk to my coach. I asked him if u could hang out in a friends room for a little while, but he immediately dismissed me and told me to go to bed. I trudged up the stairs only thinking of what was awaiting me. When I entered the room Ben was sitting on his bed once again only wearing the loose fitting pair of boxers. “ what took you so long dude, I almost had to start Farting without you” he stated . I replied to him very quickly “ come on please, this is ridiculous , why do you need to do this?” Ben got up from his bed and walked towards me while saying, “I don’t need to, it’s just fun, trust me you’ll love it too.” I started to back away from him, but he grabbed me and wrestled me onto my bed. I tried to fight him off but he was much stringer then me, before I knew it my face was under his ass, with my nose directly in his butt. I struggled beneath him and yelled for him to get off , but he just looked at me smirked and said “ just relax , and enjoy yourself” after saying that he immediately sat his boxer clad ass on my face and ripped one of the most obnoxious farts I’ e ever heard BRRRPHTTTTT! The fart smelt like pure ass, I had never smelt something so bad in my life. “ ohhh ya, that was a good one right? I bet you’re loving it down there” Ben shouted so I could hear him Beneath his ass. Ben farted repeatedly on my face and kept commenting things like “ I know you loved that one” “man you’re so lucky you get to smell MY farts” “ you should really be thanking me for this”.
He had to have been sitting on my face for about a half an hour when he finally sat up. I took the biggest breath of fresh air once he sat up, I was so happy to be free, but I was far from free. “Ya know dude, I think that’s enough of this” he said in a very pretentious way, I was about to say yessss please get up, when he cut me off by saying “ yea that’s enough of that, now it’s time to go bare ass”. “ noo dude please I’ll do anything, just please don’t fart on me bare assed, I won’t be able to take it”. I begged him. He started to laugh at me again “ oh man hell no, you are going to take it and enjoy it” he stated, and with that his pulled back his plaid boxers revealing his gigantic ass. It was so big and hairy, and most defiantly smelly. I tried to pull my face away from his ass, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop him. Ben slowly brought his bare ass the my face and sat down. The hairs on his butt tickled my face as I shot right into his butt crack, I think my nose was right in his butt hole. For the next ten minutes Ben farted almost non stop up my nose, the smells were horrible. Ranging from rotten eggs to shit. Eventually he finally ran out. Once he did he stood up, pulled up his boxers looked down at my shit stained face and said “ that was pretty awesome right, just wait til after practice tomorrow, you’re going to love my ass once it’s sweaty. ” after saying that he jumped off my bed and slid underneath his covers. I tried to confront him, but all he told me was that we’ll talk about it in the morning, but looking back on it now I wish I never talked to him about it in the morning, because what happened next was all my fault. The next morning when when I woke up Ben had already left the room. I did not want to confront him during breakfast so I figured I’d wait until after practice. Practice went well, and afterward our coach took the entire team to go watch a game. During the game Ben came over and sat next to me “ oh dude nothing can prepare you for tonight” he said in a menacing voice. By this point I was pissed so I started to fight back “no Ben you are not going to do that again or else!” I yelled back. Ben seemed shocked that I was defending myself, but he quickly gathered himself, and told me “ how about we make a bet”. “What kind of bet?” I answered. “ we each pick a team and whoever’s team wins that person gets what they want. So if your team wins I will leave you alone, but if my team wins you have to do whatever I say for the rest of the trip” . This was a huge gamble I could either get him to leave me alone for the rest of the trip or end up being his personal slave for the rest of the trip. Now I wish I decided not to make a bet with him, but I did and I lost. After my team lost Ben was overjoyed and I was sick to my stomach. The whole bus ride back to the hotel I knew what was coming for me. Once we arrived back at the hotel everyone was saying how badly they needed to take a shower because they were still so sweaty from practice, but I knew that Ben did not have any plans to shower, he was going to use every ounce of his stink to torture me. As soon as Ben and I entered our room he tackled me down to my bed and gave me a huge wedgie. “alright slave boi, how about we start our fun with you give me a foot massage.” Ben released my underwear and shoved me off the bed, he hung his feet off the bed and I slowly started uniting his cleats . I pulled them off one by one only for my nose to be assaulted by a horde of stink. “Smells nice right bitch?” I started to massage his feet when he repeated himself, this time sounding more like a command “smells nice right bitch.” He just stared at me until I realized what he wanted me to do “ yes Ben your feet smell really nice.” I stated reluctantly. “Show me that you like the way they smell” he said. So I brought his left foot to my face and inhaled deeply. “God boy” he stated in a joyous tone as if I were a dog. After about ten minutes of giving him a foot massage he had another command for me, “take of my socks with your teeth”. I did as he said pulling each sock off with my teeth until both of his disgusting feet were in front of me. “Now that you were so kinda day gave me a foot massage, my feet want to repay the favor, they are going to give you a face massage.“ With that Ben made me lie face up on the floor, all I could do was watch as he brought his two giant feet to my face. Rubbing them back and forth across my face, they slid up and down because of how sweaty they were. The smell was horrendous, but far worse was coming. "Okay bro, I think you gotten enough love from my feet today, how about you come give my nice hairy pits some attention. ” Ben pulled of his shirts and lifted his arms above his head exposing his super sweaty, smelly, hairy pits. Ben leaned his face into one and took a deep breath In Through his nose. “Mmmmm, you’re gonna love these.” He said acting as if his pits smelled remotely good. “Come to daddy” he stated as he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into his left pit. Now I know that I keep saying how bad everything smelled, but ben’s pits were crazy. I told you earlier how they were always sweaty, well now with my face in one, I can tell you that his armpits most defiantly smelt like they were always sweating. Ben rubbed my face all throughout his pit, making sure that I smelt every nasty detail that hid between his curly underarm hair. “ oh my god, you are so welcome bitch, I know that you must be in heaven right now,but don’t worry you don’t need to thank me. l am so glad that my stink can be your happiness” Ben said in such a cocky manner. As Ben swirled my face around if his pits I realized that if I breathed through my mouth I wouldn’t have to smell his stink anymore, to bad that I wasn’t the only one who realized this. As soon as I started breathing through my mouth Ben got pissed. He released my head from his armpit and through me to the floor. “ how dare you try to avoid smelling my pits, you think you’re so sly? You lost and I won so you are going to do what I say and enjoy it.” Ben shouted angrily. Ben stormed to his suitcase and pulled out a role of duck tape “ you asked for this not me” he stated. With that, Ben picked up one of his sweaty socks and said “ hope you like the taste of feet” and shoved the sock in my mouth. After that he used the duck tape to tape my mouth shut. His sock tasting disgusting, his sweat oozed out of it onto my tongue and I had no choice but to taste it. “Now, where were we?” Ben said as he grabbed the back of my head and pulled it into his other pit. Once again Ben held my face deep in his pit, laughing at me when I struggled. Now with his dirty sock In my mouth I had no choice but to inhale his horrible armpit. After a little while longer of being Bens sweat towel. He released
my head. Ben looked at me and stated to laugh “ okay bitch you look wiped, if you want to be fine just tell me and I’ll stop” I tried to say I wanted to be done but with his sock in my mouth and my mouth being taped shut I couldn’t get a word out. “ okay bro, if you want to keep going that’s fine with me I can go all night” Ben said as he stood up and began to pull down his pants.
Ben pulled down his pants and stood In front of me in nothing but his dirty, sweaty jock strap. He turned around so his bare butt was directly In front of my face. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face in between his two furry butt cheeks. “Ohhh yea bro, you’re nose feels so great on my ass. Practice really hurt my gluteus today, but I have a feeling you’re about to make them a whole lot better.” Ben continued to rub his ass with my face. Forcing my nose to be bombarded with such a horrible stench. Drops of sweat had accumulated on the hair on his butt and all I could do was let it happen as Ben mopped the sweat off his ass, with my face. ” okay dude now you are going to put me to bed by massaging my butt with your face.“ Ben stated in a very chill tone. He walked over to his bed and lied down in it, butt up. Reluctantly I walked over to his bed and positioned my face above his hairy bubble butt. Then it began the worst hour of my life. I massaged ben’s ass with my face for a whole hour, he constantly kept ooooing and ahhhing “bitch that feels amazing, oh dude I think we are going to do this every night” he had to have said those things at least six times. Once he decided that I had massaged him long enough he got up and said “ great job tonight bro, It’s only going to get better from here.” With that he went to bed, and everyday on that trip got even more and more gross for me.

A threatening kiss

You and Harry are arguing after pictures of him making out with a girl are published online. He claims he’s innocent, but fed up and hurt you make him sleep at a hotel for the night. 

Warning: Hints on mature content

This is a One Shot I have had saved in my drafts for a very long time now and since I haven’t posted in a while, I tried to go over it one more time and then publish it. Please pardon any mistakes, I finished it in one sitting. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Gif is not mine, as I have never gotten this close to the beautiful human that is Harry Styles. 

His hair was a mess after having his ringed fingers furiously pulling on the newly short locks. Harry’s eyes were desperate and reflected his distraught emotions. After having argued for over two hours now, he felt like all hope I might believe his words was lost. He didn’t find it in him to blame me though, there was enough evidence to be held against him. I didn’t look much better myself as I had adapted Harry’s habit of stressed hair pulling. Additional to that came the redness on my cheeks and the stickiness the tears had left on them. My mind and heart raced as I stared at the man standing in front of me. He looked so strange to me now. 

I’d always expected something like this to happen, he was the famous Harry Styles after all. People loved him, wanted to be like or with him and as his girlfriend, I was aware that at some point, I’d be pulled into the mess as well. Some day, someone would try to jeopardize our relationship. However, I had always thought that should it happen, it wouldn’t be real. Maybe a PR stunt his management forced onto him without him knowing or something.
I had never believed that he would come home and tell me that the pictures of him pressed against and kissing a girl, who clearly wasn’t me, were real. The pink lips I was so familiar with had just been tasted by someone else and that was something I could not accept.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?” Harry cried, his voice breaking after being raised for too long.

“Because this is exactly what everyone warned me about when I first started going out with you!”

Sitting down on the couch I buried my face in my hands as I allowed more tears to fall. My entire body jerked as sobs wrecked through me and I shook my head in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, disappointment evident in his voice.

“It’s what you always do, right? You’re going out with one girl and once you’re sick of her you pick the next in line. I always figured that was a PR thing and that it wouldn’t happen once you were in a serious relationship, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Seriously, Y/N? You can’t just hold what I did before I was with you against me now, that would make you no better than all those damn magazines talking bullshit about me. And besides, that’s not what happened at all! This girl just came on to me!

"Yeah? Well maybe none of this would’ve happened if you’d told your precious fans about us! Maybe you wouldn’t have to fight girls off if they knew that you’re already with someone!”

I knew I was being unfair as we had actually gotten to an agreement on that topic already, but I continued anyway. “But you like that don’t you? That’s why you’re keeping me as your dirty, little secret at home! You love how every girl would throw herself at your feet and kiss them should you ask!”

He shook his head. Harry’s breathing was hectic and he looked as exhausted as I felt. His usually intimidating appearance was shadowed by the glossiness of his green eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks. I felt sick. I knew what my words did to him, but to finally have voiced my darkest fears felt like a weigh being lifted off my chest.

“Look, Harry, I think we’ve argued enough for tonight. I’m done.”

He stared at me silently before nodding. “Alright. We should just talk about it tomorrow.”

“No,” I breathed, repetitively clenching and unclenching my fists. “I’m done with this mess. I want- I need a break.”

Harry’s eyes followed my movements as I got up and brushed past him on my way to the kitchen. When my shoulder brushed against his arm I felt as if the contact burned my skin. The meal I had prepared before the yelling had begun was now a mess and littered all over. The pieces of his plate lay still shattered on the floor while my food rested untouched and I quickly decided that I would only clean the worst of it tonight and leave the rest for tomorrow.

“What are you saying? You- You’re breaking up with me?” Harry’s voice sounded small from behind me and my heart broke at the noise.

It was the complete opposite from how he had spoken to me only minutes ago, all quiet and uncertain. I sighed and leaned against the sink.
I knew Harry loved me and god knows I loved him more than anything else, but I couldn’t deny the pain I felt when I first saw the pictures. The disappointment cursing through my veins when he confirmed that they were real. The taste of vomit made its way up my throat by the mere thought of his lips pressed to hers. His hands touched the skin of her waist, the tight crop-top exposing more than I ever wore out of the house, as her own hands fisted in his hair. And no matter how much he swore his faithfulness and devotion to me, he didn’t feel like mine anymore.

“I’ll stay at a hotel for the night.”

Within three strides he reached me and turned me to face him with gentle touches to my cheeks. His green eyes stared intensely into mine, making my knees go weak. I pressed back hard against the cold stone, uncomfortable by his sudden closeness.

“You want away from me that desperately?”

I carefully pried his hands from my face. “Yes. I’m sorry, Harry, but I want some time away from you.”

Tears shot to his eyes, drowning their green in pain. A sob left his mouth and I had to look away. Watching Harry cry hurt more than anything else had tonight. It felt wrong, seeing a person who was usually so confident and had happiness shining from his eyes looking at me with such utter sadness.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, “Please. I- I know I fucked up badly. But I swear to you I didn’t cheat. I never would. Do you really believe I would ruin us for someone else?” he shook his head forcefully. “You’re the most important person in my life. Please, I beg of you-”

He moved to touch me again but I quickly raised both hands and pushed him away hard, a gesture that wouldn’t have done much given his height and strength, but it was Harry, and Harry reacted to my discomfort. He pulled away instantly and took a few strides back.

“Y/N,” he murmured, defeated. “will you not hear me out? Please.”

“I have and I can’t any longer, Harry,” I exhaled desperately. My hands rubbed the skin beneath my eyes to wipe away any wetness left on the skin. “Even looking at you doesn’t feel the same anymore. You kissed her! I can’t even say it without feeling like I’ll have to vomit! This is too much for me, can’t you see that?”

Harry looked as if I had hit him right across his face. His cheeks were red and his mouth open in shock. He tried to reach me again but seemed to change his mind and he let his hands drop to his sides.

“From the day we met, I have done nothing but love you! I’ve put you first, I sacrificed so much and this is what I get? How is that fair? Tell me ‘cause I’m stumped!”

“Listen to me,” he spoke in an urgent tone. His pleading came unexpected as I had gotten used to him screaming at me with nothing but anger in his voice.

“I’ll leave. Okay? I promise not to come back until you ask me to. I’ll give you time,” his voice cracked and he coughed, “away from me. But please, stay here. I need to know you’re safe.”

His eyes searched my face and widened when I nodded. Sleeping at a hotel somewhere in London wasn’t something I was exactly eager to do and since the entire argument was all his fault in my eyes, it may as well be him who suffers the consequences. Though the whole situation did cause me suffering as well.

“Fine,” I agreed quietly.

“I’ll get a few things and then I’ll be gone.”

He looked like he had hoped I’d say something along the line of a request to make him stay, but I only nodded again and watched as he slowly left the kitchen. I didn’t move, even when I heard him rummaging in our drawers and the zipper of a bag being pulled. The pit of my stomach felt like a vacuum, an empty space that pushed all my organs out its way to fill my body with uneasiness. Soon Harry was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, fully dressed and with his bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll… ehm… I’ll go now. You’ll be alright?”

“I think so,” I croaked.

We stared at each other for a minute. His lips partnered as he bit back so much he had to say, before deciding against it.

“Can I ask one thing from you before I go?”

I hesitated but nodded. Harry sighed and clenched and unclenched his hands.

“Kiss me? I don’t want to leave without one more kiss from you.”

The desperation in his voice caught my attention and kept me from shouting at him for even asking. I understood that he didn’t ask out of lust for me or so that he could prove a point. His eyes pleaded me to let him have one reminder as he feared I would decide to end our relationship while he was absent.

“Just one,” I murmured and forced myself not to step back as he approached me.

Harry carefully touched my cheek and whimpered upon feeling how sore my skin was. I reached my own arms up as he gently nudged my nose with his before leaning in further until his warm mouth met mine. I whined in surprise as he didn’t go slow like he usually did, but pushed his tongue against my lips in order to get me to open them the second they pressed against his. Harry cradled my face in both hands to keep me from moving away as he guided the kiss. Just as I felt myself loosing to him he pulled away.
His eyes stared at me as if he tried to speak through them, but before I could say anything he turned and exited the room.
I jumped when I heard the door slam shut forcefully. My heart ached at the faint sound of his car pulling up on the street as he drove away, leaving me alone in our big and empty home. It took less than ten minutes of him gone before the events of the night came crushing down on me, causing hysterical cries to leave my mouth as I crouched down on the floor. I didn’t bother quieting my sobs and allowed myself to be absorbed in my hurt. At first it surprised me that none of our neighbors came to check up on me, but it soon occurred to me that they had most likely heard Harry and I argue and seen him drive away. A sudden fear crept through me and I jumped to my feet. As it was very late it had got dark outside a long time ago. I knew how crazy the Londoner streets around our house got by this hour and I instantly reached for my phone. How could I have made him drive? My heart ached at the thought of something happening to him; I wouldn’t be able to bare it. Before my fingers could dial the familiar phone number, I stopped. I was acting foolish and simply tried to invent a reason for me to call him back. His presence was already missed dearly.
I made my way up to our bathroom, undressed and stepped into the shower. Hot water touching my skin always washed away any tension, today however, it did little to calm me. At least it killed time. Once dressed I grabbed a blanked and curled up on the couch, but it felt much too big without a second body there. I uncomfortably stretched my limps and after flipping through various channels I switched the TV off. I rested one of my hands against my forehead and momentarily closed my eyes.

Think Y/N. Think. What are the facts?

Harry had kissed a girl that wasn’t me. He had betrayed me in the most hurtful way and had gone against the one promise he’d made me he swore was as sacred to him as it was to me. He cheated. Another cry left my lips and I cursed my eyes for letting more tears fall as an image of him having sex with her shot through my head. My stomach turned. My Harry laying bare on a bed for someone who wasn’t me? I had always hated to as much as imagine him with women before we started dating, but to think of him sleeping with someone else while he had me was something entirely else. Unimaginable almost.

I decided he couldn’t have. Though I had believed him kissing someone else was impossible, too, sex was an entirely different department and I knew he would never cross that line. After all, he did tell me about it. He came home and immediately owned up to everything.
It had hurt just as much as I imagined hearing it through the media would have, but his honesty still meant a lot to me.

His reaction could have been a better one, though. The second I had began questioning him for details about how exactly the girl had gotten to be in a position this close to him, he raised his voice. I understood his anger at my doubts in him, but how could he possibly blame me? There were pictures for god’s sake! And they didn’t exactly show him particularly disgusted to be making out with a fan.
But what if his loud reaction had been his desperation shining through as he tried to show me how scared he was of losing us?

“Oh, Harry,” I whispered. “What are you doing to me.”

Maybe what I had said earlier was true. This happened because no one knew he had a girlfriend. Girls wouldn’t push themselves at him anymore once they knew, right? Okay, some might, but I knew there were fans who respected the girlfriends. And maybe what he had said was true, too. That he had always been faithful to me and didn’t deserve to be doubted by me. If only I could have collected my emotions and let him explain himself better.
I loved him so much. Too much maybe.
One glance to the clock told me that Harry had now been gone for over three hours already. The ache in my chest increased and I missed my boyfriend’s presence more and more by the second. I unlocked my phone and opened his chat where my fingers quickly flew over the keys.

Come home?

His answer came so quickly it made me smile in relief and picture him sitting beside his phone all night, awaiting a message from me.

You sure?

My phone buzzed again before I could reply.

Never mind. Don’t tell me. I’m on my way.

And again.

I’ll be there in 30. I love you. xx

Warmth spread through my body and I smiled. I patted the pillow I rested my head on and sighed happily, knowing that he’d be back soon. For the first time this evening, I felt at ease.



I felt a hand on my shoulder and then one pressed against my hips. My head felt dizzy and my eyes too heavy to fully open as I was lifted up and scooped into Harry’s arms.

“Why were you sleeping down here, baby? Did you forget our incredibly comfortable bed upstairs?” Harry softly chuckled.

“Mhmm,” I hummed, nuzzling his neck, finding comfort in his warmth. My heart swelled and I felt like I could finally breathe again as my chest pressed against his when he pulled me against himself tightly.

“I can’t believe you fought me to leave you the bed and sleep somewhere else, only for you to take the couch. Makes no sense, love, does it?”

Harry smiled when the only answer he received from me was a whine. He carried me upstairs and gently placed me on our soft mattress. Careful fingers unzipped the thin material I wore over my shirt before he slid off my sweats, leaving me in just the shirt and a pair of knickers. All of a sudden his presence was gone again.

“Harry?” I called out for him as I propped myself up on my elbows.

“I’m gonna sleep in the guest room, my angel” his quiet voice hummed from somewhere in the room.

“Why?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I had expected us to be fine now and him to cuddle with me. My mind was too tired to think about any more reasons to argue with him. I longed for this to become one of the quiet and comfortable nights we always had.

“You said you needed space, my love. Wanted away from me, remember?”

I could particularly hear his pout in his voice before a chuckle rumbled through the room when I vigorously shook my head. My shoulders relaxed as I noticed how calm he seemed.

“I changed my mind,” I whined and sat up, reaching both arms out into the direction I believed him standing since the darkness prevented me from actually seeing him. “Come here. Need you to make me warm again.”

Harry didn’t make any noise. I hated not seeing him and sighed as my eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He stood near the door, an expression of hesitation on his face. There was a small smile playing on his lips, however, and I could see the relief in his eyes upon my request of him staying with me.
He didn’t move fast, as if he was expecting me to change my ming any second, but my breath hitched when I felt the bed dip under the weight of another body. Harry crawled onto his side of the bed, pulling the covers higher over the both of us. He sprawled out beside me and his eyes locked with mine.

“Hi,” he murmured quietly.

I reached out my hand and he entwined our fingers. I smiled when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my knuckles. A giggle escaped his lips when I pulled at his hand, motioning him to move closer to me. Following my silent request he pushed himself up and laid his body down closer to mine, close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“Hey,” I breathed.

We stared at each other. His green eyes were clear and lightly swollen, telling me that he had cried at least as much as I did.

“I’m so sorry,” he promised in a low whisper.

I shook my head to silence him.

“Harry,” I breathed, brushing his hair from his forehead. “You know you mean the world to me. I want nothing less than to lose you, you must know that.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, Y/N,” Harry spoke and leaned forward to bury his nose against my shoulder and in my hair.

“You’ve proven me often enough that I can trust you,” I continued and reached up one hand so that I could caress his neck.
“Tell me your side of the story,” I suggested, “I’ll listen properly this time and will believe you, whatever it is you tell me.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed and tugged on my hand, followed by giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I was at Sainsbury’s to get your tea like you asked me to, when all of a sudden this girl showed up and she just grabbed my face and began kissing me. She fisted my hair and shirt so I couldn’t get her off of me without hurting her, which I obviously didn’t want to do either. I really had to push her several times before she lessened her grip, but of course that wasn’t until some damn photographer’s took pictures of it. I’m so sorry,” he choked on the last word, “Y/N I never meant for you to get hurt like this. I know what it looks like. But I swear to you, the kiss wasn’t mutual. I didn’t kiss back and I haven’t seen the girl since, nor would I ever want to! I’m so sorry. Please believe me.”

A sob left his lips and I shuddered as wet tears dripped onto my neck.

“Sh, Harry, it’s okay,” I tried to reassure him.

“No it’s not, I mean look at you. You’re hurt and you’ve been crying. And I yelled at you when you aren’t the one who made the mistake. I’m such an asshole. ”

“That’s not true, Harry. You’re nothing like an asshole. At all.”

Harry sniffled and pulled back so he could look at me. The back of my hands moved up to brush over his temples before taking hold of his face.

“I love you so much,” I told him. “You didn’t to anything wrong. I should have believed you in the first place instead of doubting you. You’ve always been faithful to me, a picture shouldn’t have been able to ruin all that.”

I gently stroke over his eyelid with the tip of my finger. The skin felt sore and I sighed sadly.
“I’m sorry I caused you so much pain.”

His hands held my waist and pulled me against him. Harry shuffled further down and pressed his head against my shoulder. I rested my chin on his head and kissed his hair. I felt him breath heavily as if he wanted to say something and couldn’t find the words. Finally all he said was:

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, Harry” I whispered.

Silence settled upon us and I felt like there was nothing more we could say, but we didn’t fall asleep full. Harry didn’t move until the very early morning. It was only then that he allowed me to move my arms from around his shoulders to around his waist as he crawled up to lay closer by the headboard.

“M'gonna tell the world about us tomorrow,” he murmured, “Want everyone to know that m'taken.”

I sighed and nodded. “Please do.”

We stayed cuddled like that for several more hours before he rolled over me. His mouth found mine in a slow kiss and his hands reached down to pull at the hem of my knickers. We didn’t bother taking off my shirt or completely pushing down his boxers, only freeing what was needed.
I kissed him tenderly and blindly reached behind him to pull the covers over both of our heads.

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always welcome and so are requests, though I’m quite busy at the moment and it will take me some time to finish anything I start new right now. 

The rest of what I wrote you can find here: 


Tony’s Shirt - Tony Stark x Plus Sized Reader - Fluff


@thekrazykeke said: 

a Tony fic with a plus sized reader.

A/n: Let me just quickly say, i loved this prompt because I am a plus sized woman. And reading fanfiction (smut or fluff) always leaves me thinking, “Wow, i automatically imagined myself thin.” And that can sometimes leave me with insecurities. Especially if it’s a story about wearing a celeb’s clothing, cause i’m like “Well, that wouldn’t happen for me…” And that’s so silly! Is it a fact that i wouldn’t be able to fit into, let’s say, RDJ’s t-shirt? Probably, but that shouldn’t leave me feeling insecure, because there are a million other ways to be sexy and beautiful and confident! So, I want to take this moment to say something to the young men and women who are plus sized and might be feeling insecure:

You are every bit as beautiful and sexy as people like Chris Hemsworth and Scarlett Johansson. Don’t ever think that you can’t be sexy because of your size. That’s a damn lie. And the only reason you should be losing weight is for one of the following reasons: your health is at risk or YOU want to slim down. Don’t ever try to fit into society’s beauty standards, because even celebrities don’t fit those standards. They have photoshop and makeup artists working on them 24/7 in all their movies and photo shoots. You are beautiful and sexy and wonderful, and don’t ever let anyone try to tell you otherwise.

Ok, now that that’s done. Please enjoy the story :)

Originally posted by duckbuttt

               Tony walked into the Avengers compound and dropped his keys on the table beside the door. He heard soft music playing somewhere in the house. It was obviously your music because it wasn’t his rock play list, or Banner’s opera, or Rogers’ jazz.

               “Any one home!” he shouted. No one answered.  He decided to follow the music and see if he could find you. He followed the song all the way to the kitchen. As he got closer, he recognized the song as one of your favorite “sexy times” songs.

You know our love would be tragic (oh, yeah)

So you don’t pay it, don’t pay it no mind, mind, mind

We live with no lies

Hey, hey

You’re my favorite kind of night

               “Y/n!” He called again, but you didn’t answer.

               As he got closer to the kitchen, he smelled something burning. It almost smelled like a mixture of burned beans and over boiled pasta. What on earth compelled you to create a dinner using those ingredients, Tony didn’t know. When he finally reached the kitchen, he was slightly shocked to see that you weren’t there. He’d fully expected to walk in and see you swaying your hips to The Weeknd while you attempted to salvage whatever concoction you’d created.

               “F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan the compound. Who’s here?” Tony demanded.

               “I’m only detecting two heat signatures, sir. Yours, and Ms. Y/l/n.” The AI’s voice replied.

Keep reading

Two Can Play This Game

1,000 Followers Drabble

Prompt: “Umm…I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Requested by: @feelmyroarrrr

“It’s my birthday, bitches!” Charlie announces, opening the front door of her parent’s huge expensive house.

You, Jess, Sam and Dean all rush inside. Everyone is excited that Charlie’s parents are gone for the next few days. Leaving you and your friends a perfect place to party for the weekend.  

You make a beeline towards the kitchen and immediately pour yourself a strong drink. To say your college courses have been stressing you out lately is a huge fucking understatement. This party couldn’t have come at a better time. 

“You’re not wasting any time, sweetheart.” Dean smoothly points out, eyeing the glass of whiskey in your hand as he strolls into the room. Naturally you ignore his comment and down your drink before pouring another.

“You’re my friend, not my dad. So act accordingly.” 

“All I’m saying is pace yourself. No need to get shit faced…at least not so early.” Dean tries to charm you with a wink but it has no effect on you.

“Go find a Barbie doll to play with, Winchester. I saw a couple of blonde bimbos prancing around here.”

Keep reading

Photograph ;; Poe Dameron

a/n: school starts back up again tomorrow so i’m all :,(((( but also have major poe feels atm so… i also got this idea on my ownbut it’s so similar to peggy and steve from avengers so don’t bust my ass marvel fans

summary: poe keeps your picture with him everywhere

warnings: fluff but angsty


He kept her photo with everywhere. Whether it was in his shirt pocket or inside the bottom of his shoe, it went wherever he went. Long missions were the worst because he was gone for what felt like forever and missed everything. Missed sleeping in a bed that was tiny, but cozy and inviting, and missed warm meals that filled him up all the way.

He missed Y/N most though. The picture he carried around of her wasn’t enough sometimes. Through the faded and frayed photograph couldn’t let him hear her laugh or feel her lips. Would talk back to him when he mindlessly talked to her about how hard things were. How much he longed to see her again.

If she was lucky enough, she would be around when he’d radio in. If the call wasn’t dangerous, Y/N would catch General Organa’s eye and she would let her speak on the line with Poe. She knew how much the two meant to each other, and she cared so much about them too. Today was one of those days. Y/N was back in the doorway, watching everyone walk around, working busily with the control panels all aglow.

“Y/N.” Organa turns to her, smiling gently at her and gesturing towards the radio transmitter.

She raises her eyebrows, not expecting Poe to call in, and then grins in excitement, walking quickly over to the radio. General Organa leaves to give them privacy during their conversation, and Y/N turns from everyone else. Leaning her ear against the radio, she listens to his breathing on the other line. She presses the phone harder against her cheek, as if that would make the couple closer.

“Hello?” She breathes out, just above whisper.

“Hi, baby.” His voice is rough, like he had just been woken up.

“Poe,” she says, smiling and leaning her side against the wall, “didn’t expect a call from you.”

“Missed you.” He sighs, a smile settling onto his face as he fiddled with a few switches and buttons in the X-Wing. His eyes pass over your photo, and he stares at it, “Only reason I radioed in.”

“Poe,” Y/N rolls her eyes as he grins and snickers, “are you serious?”

“Yeah I’m serious!” He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges, “How could I not? You’re irresistible.”

Y/N could practically see his half lidded eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. She giggled, shaking her head at the silly boy, “You’re crazy.”

There was a bit of a pause in the conversation where the two just listened to each other breathe before Poe spoke up, “I’m looking at your picture.”

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned, rubbing a hand over her face, “I hate the photo. I look horrible.”

“No,” he said back, his voice become defensive, “you look gorgeous. Your smile is perfect and your hair looks great-“

“My smile in crooked and my hair is a rats nest.” She shoots back flatly, smiling softly into the phone.

Now was Poe’s turn to roll his eyes, “Hush, you’re beautiful. I love you.”

“Do you have to go?” She asks, feeling like she barely talked to him, “Don’t go yet please.”

“I’ll be landing in about 15 minutes, babe.” He smiles, looking at how far way he was from the base.

“Where?” She asks, the crackling of the radio making it seem like they were light years apart from each other.

“Oh the small place, I don’t know if you’d know it. The Resistance Base?” He teases, flicking another switch while grinning to himself. He hears you gasp and his grin grows wider when you don’t reply, “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Poe.” She says quietly before the two hang up.

She looks around, hoping no one heard their conversation, and walked away softly. Turning into the hallway, she runs into general who gives her a knowing smile. She gets pulled into a hug and hugs Leia back.

“You two are going to last a long long time.” She says before pulling back, smiling widely.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiles back before Organa tells her to go on to the landing dock so she can see Poe as soon as he lands.

So, Y/N walks quickly to the dock and waits atop one of the empty crates that had been unloaded from forever ago. She kicks her feet back and forth, watching her boots sway. Her patience begins to fade after ten minutes and she becomes anxious. What if Poe ran into trouble? What if they didn’t return? To take her mind off her thoughts, she watches the mechanics work on an old X-wing.

Being so focused on what the mechanics were doing, she almost didn’t see all the X-Wings come in. She could see Poe through the windshield of his ship and waved wildly at him with her arm in the air. He waved back, grinning before stepping out.

She jumped of the crate and walked toward him as he did the same to her. Y/N picked up speed and soon her walked turned into a run. Poe, dropping his helmet to the side, stopped and opened his arms, allowing Y/N to run into them. With her arms hooked around his necked and her legs tucked around his waist, he hugged her back as tightly as possible. They stood like that for what felt like a minute and just held each other as the pilots and other workers ran around them.

He set her down and cupped the side of her face before pulling her into a kiss. With her arms still hooked around his necked, she pulled him closer and kissed back hard before pulling away to grab a breath.

She was about to lean back in before Poe leaned away, “Woah, easy there, gonna let me talk?”

She blinked up at him, hearing his when he was with her seemed so foreign. She grins and pulls him into another hug, “I missed you so much.”

He sets his hands on her waist, “Missed you too. This is way better than just looking at your picture.”

She smiles, leaning away, “Speaking of that, let me just go throw that into the pits of hell.”

She pulls free of his grasp and runs towards the ship, Poe hot on her heels, “Y/N!”

2P America:
A tall man with a crooked nose leaned against the wall, the sun bounced off the pomade in his red hair; it looked shinnier than it otherwise would have. His eyes were hidden behind dark aviator sunglasses and an unlit cigarette rested behind his ear, waiting for him to smoke it. A lazy grin spread across his face as he enjoyed the summer weather, revealing a space where a tooth should have been and causing the rings in his lip to glimmer. The collar of his second-hand leather jacket had been popped and, despite the burning sun, he seemed to be perfectly comfortable.

2P England:
He stood behind the counter, arranging the pastries in the glass cabinets for the day. His strawberry blond hair seemed a good match for his strawberry-shaped earrings. In fact, he almost looked like he should be in one of the glass cases with the pastries. His warm freckles were like sprinkles, his hair and eyes like fairy floss. What was most intriguing, however, was the small sunburst of pink in the centres of his bright blue eyes. He hummed to himself as he worked, everything about him was bright, and soft, and friendly.

2P China:
He strolled down the path, lazily dragging his feet across the pavement. He kept checking over his shoulder and, at one point, the motion threw his hat from his head. As he chased after the hat, his short hair bounced in the wind. He smiled when he caught it and squashed it back down onto his head. He wore a loose red singlet and an unzipped black hoodie. He was obviously dressed for comfort, rather than style, but he still looked a bit put-together. He resumed his path, still checking over his shoulder every few yards.

2P Russia:
His maroon scarf fluttered behind him in the wind as snowflakes stuck to his eyelashes and brown hair. Dark circles beneath his eyes made it known that this was the most relaxed he’d been in a long while. He pulled his heavy coat tighter around his body to try and fight off the cold. Checking his watch, he tapped his foot impatiently. His bus was late. The longer he stood there, the more he seemed to glare at the other people at the bus stop; he was no longer relaxed. Finally, the bus pulled up. The tall man was the first on board.

2P France:
He brushed his dark hair from his grey eyes before packing the dirt around his freshly potted snapdragons. His purple gardening gloves matched the wisteria that hung from the lattices along the side of his house. He looked exhausted, but at peace tending to his garden. A small smile graced his lips and he pulled off his gloves. He picked up a watering can and made his way around the garden. Once all his plants had been taken care of, he laid down in the grass and dragged a hand down his stubbley face. He slept in his garden until the first few drops of a rainstorm hit his face.

2P Canada:
He tied back his blond hair and rolled up his sleeves, picking up his hatchet as he walked over to the fire pit. His tent was already set up. It had only taken him a few minutes. In just moments, a sizable pile of ready-to-burn wood had formed and he began arranging it in the fire pit. After there was a roaring fire in the pit, he pulled a book and a glasses case from his bag, replaced his dark shades with a pair of smart readers, and sat down to read. His lavender eyes were gentle, framed by long, dark lashes. Quite the contrast to his rough physique.

2P Italy:
The short man glared at everyone who passed. Despite his stature, his very presence demanded respect and attention. He looked cocky; the way he smirked or sneered at every passerby, the way he leaned against the lamppost. His sharp magenta eyes seemed to dare anyone to defy him. Very expensive leather gloves complimented his impeccable suit and tie. He was either incredibly important, or he liked to feel like he was. He was very attractive, but too self-absorbed and maybe dangerous for that to matter.

2P Germany:
A big, rather imposing man laughed loudly from the bar as his team scored another goal on the television. His dirty blond hair was haphazardly pushed back under his hat and a jacket hung lazily from his shoulders. He didn’t have a care in the world, despite the people across the bar whispering about the scar on his cheek and the ones on his arms. While he was clearly strong and rather intimidating, he actually seemed like an incredibly laidback, kind hearted man.

2P Japan:
The black leather of his jacket seemed dull amidst the fog hanging in the air. He glared at everyone who passed him, as if they had personally offended him. He screamed of contempt for the world. The edges of tattoos peaked out of the ends of his sleeves and collar. Something about him screamed a warning. He wasn’t one to be fucked with. From his heavy combat boots and vicious glare, to the way he seemed to ache for someone to look at him in a funny way. He was bored. He wanted action. He wanted to beat someone up. He didn’t care who.

2P Romano:
Bleached blond hair bounced as the man strutted down the street. His designer, Italian cut suit was as spotless as his complexion. He seemed to ooze glamour and luxury. It almost made one want to hate him, but his playful smirk was far too likeable. The rose lenses of his expensive sunglasses were light enough for his scarlet eyes to be visible. It was easy to tell his eyeshadow and eyeliner was impeccable. The silk scarf around his neck fluttered elegantly in the gentle breeze. He was the very image of beauty, grace, and glamour.

2P Prussia:
A very pale fellow sat on the park bench, his silver hair pulled back into a long ponytail. His deep blue eyes were watery and sagging from a lack of sleep. Scars littered his face and hands; more were probably hidden beneath his clothes. There was something about him that didn’t feel quite right. It was as if he had once been something great. Like he still was, or could be if he wanted to. But he wasn’t. He looked up when it started to rain and sighed sighed. For a painfully long time, he sat there, the rain pouring over his face, washing away his past and his present.

Creepypasta Headcanon

《Of course! 😄 Thank you for your request! 😀》

《Creepypasta x Janes girlfriend headcanon》 Being Janes short chubby girlfriend

•Your short, chubby and adorable! Janes word not mine

•She loves using your height to her advantage, walking somewhere? not for long Janes just picked you up, Standing there? Guess what you just became Janes head rest

•Gets very protective of you if jeff’s near you, keeps an arm around you to warn him to back off

•Cuddles 24/7, she is da big spoon

•She loves wearing your tops, because there baggy on her she loves to wear them with just shorts

•If you don’t want to be picked up she will wrap both her arms underneath your arm pits and pull you into her chest while tucking her head in the crook of your neck

•Since your shorter than her it’s hard to reach things off high places so she’ll get it for you

•If anyone’s rude or has upset you, nobody will ever hear from them again once Janes finished with them

•She loves cuddling with you because your so warm

Originally posted by porcelainpastelprincess

anonymous asked:

You think you could do a short story about what happened to Hancock right after he took the radiation drug? (Like what do you think that felt like? Do you think it involved a lot of puking? Do you think it was before or after he became mayor? Do you think at some point Hancock thought he was gonna die?) All I've gotta say is I figure ghoulification is very unpleasant and painful as all hell.

written by @fantomofthehiddles, because they are so much better at explaining this stuff than I am 

[[Just to be clear, this is based on my own monsterpost about ghoulification from a bit ago + our talks with Bagel where we were figuring out Hancock’s timeline and figured his change “to become a better man” must’ve happened all at once. Personally, I kinda don’t see Hancock becoming mayor and THEN changing into a ghoul and people just being okay with it, especially since this process would have to take two weeks minimum. It must’ve been before he overthrew Vic, but we also know he was human when he was a drifter… so that leaves only one moment in his life when this could’ve happened.]]
[[And no, I don’t think he thought he was gonna die. I think he HOPED he was gonna die.]]
[[But to everything else I say: yes, yes, and YES. And “enjoy” ;)]]

[[PS. And what do you mean, ‘a short story’? What is this combination of words I’ve never seen before??]]

John brushed his blonde hair away from his face, leaning on his knees over the pill he rolled about in his hands. He wiped his tear-stained face with his sleeve. The image of Tom’s head split open on the sidewalk was still freshly seared in his mind, and John could see it every time he closed his eyes. Tom wasn’t his friend. They didn’t even like each other. But no one deserved such a fate. John remembered how he’d moved towards the body, for no reason he could think of, only to stop when one of Vic’s goons, a walking monster truck called Brett, of all names, had aimed at him with his submachine gun. “Whatcha gon’ do, McDonough?” he’d said mockingly, laughing when John did take a step back, gritting his teeth. There really was nothing he could do, was there? Just like before. Just like always. There was nothing he could do. Or, he did everything he could. Or was it just something he was telling himself to be able to sleep at night? He stifled a sob as another wave of tears flowed down his face. He wasn’t even a man anymore. He was… next to nothing.
Might as well, right?
The pill was round and pretty big, a perfect sphere in all regards except for one small indentation probably marking the spot where it would start… John didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to escape the promenade of mistakes that his life was. The image of brains on cement. The bloody body parts scattered in the ruins. He exhaled sharply and swallowed the pill before he could change his mind, washing it down with a bottle of vodka as it made an impossible amount of stops down his oesophagus. Well. It’s done. No taking it back now. All he could do now was wa…
The pain began so abruptly it caught him completely unprepared. He doubled down, digging his fingers into his abdomen as it pierced through him, this debilitating power tearing at him from within. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t even scream as the pain spread to every part of his body, seemingly even to his bones… and then suddenly let go and diminished into nothing but odd discomfort in the pit of his stomach.

John pulled himself from the ground and sat back on the crate between one display and another in the Old State House storeroom. He could hear steps over his head, guards shifting places, completely unaware that he’d snuck in here just to fuck with them. Just because Vic said he wasn’t supposed to. And Vic was just two floors up, he thought to himself. Every fiber of John’s being wanted only to get his hands on a gun, go up there, and shoot that fucking bastard in the face. See HIS brains on the sidewalk. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it?
He gulped what was left of the vodka all at once–and in another minute, he was on all fours giving it all back to the floor. He cursed and grabbed some tarp to clean it up. Oh, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Fuck. It was hard enough to get in here under Vic’s guards’ noses; the last thing he needed was to alert them to his presence by gurgling his guts out and screaming in pain. Yet, somehow, through the mind-clouding nausea and head-splitting headache, he knew it was only going to get worse.

While he still could stand up and move around a little, he slid some display cases in to barricade the door. The last thing he needed was to be found out by someone while… Another wave of nausea sent him to his knees. He quickly latched on to a steel bucket he found in the corner, and when he raised his head, he could see there was blood mixed in with the vomit. Fuck. He could feel it pooling in his mouth, filling it with the taste of iron and… rot? Fuck. He spat it out into the bucket.
Then, fever hit. His strength was diminishing fast; soon, it was an exorbitant effort to even turn to the other side as he lay on the tarp on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chin like that was supposed to help with the cramps. Ohh, he was never going to tell another woman she was overreacting. This was karma punishing his ignorance, he was sure of it. And boy, did he deserve it on so many levels.
Could he just die yet?
He didn’t know how long he lay there–hours? days? weeks?–shivering, no, shaking, really, barely able to breathe, pain clawing at his body as he yearned for the end… His mind barely holding on, and yet still insanely clear. It was like living through every pain of his entire life… and surviving. If he could, he would’ve shot himself in the head right now, just to stop the pain, just to finally rid the world of himself; but also, there was something there… pulling on his consciousness like a child tugging at their mother’s skirt as his brother played nearby… something that wanted him to live. Something that stroked his head and said it would all be… just fine. But how could it? Heart pounding like crazy… Fighting for every breath… like living underwater… Water… Holy fuck, he was so thirsty… Everything was pain. Burning… Even through the haze he could feel his skin… falling off. Every move hurt more than the last, but… was he even moving? Or was he swimming? What was that?… Green skies?… A child…? What…?

When he awoke, he immediately retched out a dark, thick puddle of whatever was left of his stomach, apparently. Everything was… blurry and dark… Ugh, he still wasn’t fully there. Where was he, actually? Old State House? But… Fuck, he was so out of it. Even the worst trips he’d ever had were never this… Never like this. The pain was mostly gone now, though. At least that. John pulled himself from the tarp and saw his silhouette still perfectly painted on it in what looked like watered-down blood and… pieces of him. His hair was spread like an aureola around the place where his head just lay.
John wiped his face and nearly jumped out of his skin when he pulled off a good part off his nose straight off his head. He dropped in on the tarp. “What the actual fuck?” he mumbled. That was not how he expected this to go. As he pulled himself up on shaky arms, he suddenly felt how insanely hungry he was. Thankfully, he brought some food with him when he was coming down here, though tatoes were no longer an option. At least… Holy shit.
His gaze fell on his blurry reflection in one of the cleaner display cases and John couldn’t help but stare at how much had changed. There was a bony ridge jutting out from where he’d just pulled his nose off. His eyes were pitch black. Every bit of hair he ever had was gone. He couldn’t help but check, but yeah, down there, too. Geez, he should grow up.
For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off of that reflection. It still seemed surreal. But then, the world around still felt surreal, too. Was it really him? Did he really…? He stared at his hands, covered in scars and red burns. Hissed, pulling off some fingernails that still held on, even though crooked and clearly dead. God… What has he done to himself?
He fell back to his knees. His heart was pounding as he buried his face in his hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like this… This was supposed to fix him… or kill him. He was supposed to be dead. He didn’t deserve to live anyway, not after everything that had…

A shiver went through him. There was a hand stroking his head. He looked up and his black gaze fell into his mother’s warm, gray eyes. “It’ll all be fine,” she said with a comforting smile. “I still love you, baby, even if you’re someone else. It wasn’t your fault. None of it.” Then John blinked and she was gone, and for a second, he felt debilitatingly alone. But he wasn’t, was he? He wasn’t the only disembodied, homeless bastard in this town, in this world. But they were all huddled up, beaten down. Even though all it would take was for one single person to just… get up. And if there was anything John ever did wrong, it was waiting for someone else to get up first.
It was right there in front of him the entire time. ‘John Hancock’ written in faded, fancy letters above that silly outfit he’d laughed at before… all this. Before John Hancock.
Might as well, right?

> Epilogue:
“Hi, Timmy, and thanks for the help,” he said to the drunk drifter he’d paid to keep an eye out for the guards when he’d been sneaking in.
“Huuh?” Timmy replied, eyeing him mistrustfully. “Who the fuck are you? Where’s McDonough?”
“He’s gone,” John replied, reveling in what he was about to say. “I’m John Hancock now. And don’t worry, pal…” He patted his shoulder. “…I’m gonna fight for us.”

Out of the Frying Pan (25/?)

“You want me to climb out a window or something?” Killian asked, blue eyes flashing up at her. “Because I don’t know if I’m that coordinated.”

“You don’t have to climb out of anything. Although you should probably consider putting pants on before we go outside.”

“I can do that,” he said softly, the emotion obvious in his voice as it settled into the pit of her stomach.

He pulled his arm away, only after brushing his lips across hers and Henry pounded the door again. “Mom! I’m starving. Can we make pancakes? Or you could make french toast if you really want. Can we just eat? Soon?”

AN: Guys. Guuuuys. Emotions. EMOTIONS. Lots of them. And a hint of angst. And then more emotions. Thank you so much for your continued response to this story. It constantly blows my mind. As does that aesthetic because @distant-rose is the best. 

Living it up on Ao3 and tag’ed up from the start on Tumblr

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The Pit X Joker X Reader

“20! 21! 22!” Your capture yelled at you as you forced yourself to do press ups. Your body was screaming for you to stop. Everything hurt in ways you didn’t think was possible. You started to slow down as your body started to give up. All of a sudden a boot pressed down on your head smashing your face onto the concrete. Your turned your face under his foot, blood pouring out your nose.

He took his foot away and leaned down to you “How do you suppose you’re going to win tonight if you don’t train?”

“Sorry sir. I will carry on sir.” You said through breaths.

He grabbed your short hair from the back of your head and yanked you up “I think you deserve a time out in your cell.”

“No I can do this. I can train.” You whimpered under him.

He pulled you up onto your feet and dragged you to your cell door. He swung it open and threw you in. You fell into the cold floor. “Wrap your hands! I’ve decided your on in 10 as punishment.”

“No! Please!” you shouted but he just slammed the metal door on you. The only bit on light was coming though a tiny gap at the top of a wall. It was dark, cold and damp. You had no idea how long you had been in this hell hole. You had been kidnapped a long time ago at a boxing match. You wanted to become a real fighter for years. This wasn’t what you really had in mind. You were the best fighter in this prison. You were broken and dead inside. If there was a way out you would have taken it a long time ago. You crawled around until you found your hand wraps. You had no idea who or what you were fighting today. You just prayed this time it wasn’t till death. They were the worst ones.

After wrapping your self up and crying for a while your door swung open. HE stood there with a shit eating grin on his face. “Come on sugar tits. You’re on”

You stood up and followed him out the cell and down the halls. You could hear men shouting getting louder and louder as you approached the pit.

The pit was the area you fought. A big concrete hole in the floor and people would place bets on who was going to win. You would usually be favourite to win but sometimes your body would give in. Like an illegal dog fight but with people instead.
As you walked in all the men cheered. You looked to the hole and your heart dropped. You thought you were going to be sick. You hated these ones. This time it was you VS a trained killer pit bull. You knew you would not come out of this uninjured.

You glanced around the room and happened to catch the eye of a man. He was sitting back in a chair staring at you. He looked strange, perfect silver suit, the palest skin you had ever seen, slick green hair and a red smile stretched across his face from ear to ear. You had never seen this man before.

“Place your bets boys!” Your master shouted “Cupcake vs Dog” cupcake was the name they had given you. he threw you into the pit. The dog was pulling on its chain dying to sink it’s teeth into you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in trying your hardest to block the shouting around you. You hated killing anything but you weren’t willing to get mauled to death by a savage dog.

“Get ready!” A voice made you open your eyes. “FIGHT!”

The dogs chain was dropped and it ran straight for you. Chomping down on your arm instantly. You yelled in pain but managed to throw it off you. It charged for you again but this time in one swift move you managed to grab hold of it and break it’s neck causing it to fall limp on the ground. A few men booed at you while others cheered.

“Looks like it was a short one today fellas! Make sure you stick around for Cupcake vs Sunshine later tonight!”

Your chest heaved up and down. You looked down at your arm where you had been bit. Blood dripped onto the ground. This fight had been easier than usual. You walked to the edge of the pit and your master lifted you harshly out.

He was about to walk you back to your cell when a voice stopped him. You both turned to see the strange man smiling at you both.
“How much?” his voice was a low growl.

You master looked slightly scared, something you had never seen “This one is not for sale. Any others but this one.”

The man bent down closer to your face “Well that is a shame. I like you.”

“Thank you sir” You replied to him.

He placed his hand over your mouth where a smile was tattooed “Smile cupcake. I’ll be seeing you real soon” he whispered just so you could hear.

All the way back to your cell you couldn’t help but think about him. What did he mean he would see you soon? Was he going to break you out? No, that’s silly. You knew you would only leave this place in a body bag.
You got thrown into your cell again. You lay on the cold hard floor knowing at any second you would be dragged out again to beat up some poor girl.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you had lost a bit of blood. Out of no where you heard shouting and guns outside your door. You managed to pull yourself onto your feet and walk over to the door. You pressed your ear against it and listened.

“Yeah it’s this one boss” a deep unfamiliar voice shouted. They were doing something to your door.

You stepped back quickly to the farthest corner. Just in time for when your metal cell door was blown straight off. The room filled with black smoke. You could see a whiteish figure walk to wards you. Out of the smoke a white tattooed hand reached out to you. You took it and he pulled you towards him. Surely enough it was him.

“I got something for you.” He growled in your ear. He passed you a machine gun.

Your heart skipped “You’re saving me?”

“You were too perfect to leave behind cupcake.”

You cocked the gun and smiled “The names y/n”

He laughed at you. You liked this man “and I’m the joker. I think I prefer cupcake.” More gunshots came from out side “We need to go”

You walked out the room with a smile stretched across your whole face. You started to run down the dingy corridors. Each cell you passed you shot the lock off making sure the girls could get out.
You ran into the main room with the pit. A few dead bodies lay around and other men with their hands in the air. “Gentlemen!” you shouted “Place your bets! You Vs my gun!” On that you lit thee whole place up with gunfire. You laughed mechanically as you did it. You stopped when all the bodies fell to the floor. You breathed heavily smiling to yourself.

You felt a hand wrap around your waist. You spun around a put your gun under his chin. You dropped your hand as soon as you realized it was the joker.

He smiled and you then growled “Come on cupcake, let’s go home”