So this kid(Andrew Conley), instead of actually doing his part of his lab report like he was supposed to do, decided to write this epic poem about how Landon didn’t make a doc and complained they didn’t have one. Pls take a moment to read this and peep the title. It is truly a testament to the extent of procrastination
For once in a very long time, The
Joker is fast asleep. You are still awake, trying to silence the voices in your
head. Sometimes they get so loud that you just can’t unwind. You move closer to
J, burying your face in his neck, attempting not to think about anything. A
tiny smile forms on your lips when you inhale his scent: he smells so good. As
you rest your right arm on his chest, you feel his heart beating faster and
faster. A low growl follows, then his body shudders a few times. Oh, no, not
the nightmare again!
You quickly get on your knees, trying
to wake him up.
“Baby, wake up,” you shake him gently
but he’s still in the dream, tormented. “Hey, wake up!” you intensify your
movement and J finally opens his eyes, gasping for air, like someone just
choked him. He immediately reaches his hand to grab the gun from under the
pillow but you are fast to pin it.
“It’s me, it’s me, stop!” you hover
over him for a few seconds before letting go. “Are you ok?” you ask, worried,
waiting for him to recollect.
“Yes, I will be in a second,” he
sighs, rubbing his face with his fists.
You take your pillows and pile them
up against the bed frame, lean against them and slowly pull him in your arms.
The Joker doesn’t object and he cuddles for a few moments, resting his face on
“What would Batsy think to see me
like this, doll, hmm?” He lifts his head, looking in your eyes, waiting for the
“Screw Batsy, what the hell does he
know?”, you whisper, stroking his green hair with your hand. J scoffs, a bit
“That’s true, he doesn’t know crap.”
“Go back to sleep J.”
“I don’t think I can…Wanna full
around? It would make me feel better,” he grins, kissing your shoulder.
“Whatever makes you feel better,
baby,” you chuckle, but then you realize: “She could hear us.”
“No she won’t, she’s on the other
side of the penthouse.” The Joker’s hands are already all over you, and he
keeps on talking as he kisses all the skin he can see.
“One of these…days…I might have to
kill ya…You know too much… about me…”
You violently pull his hair back,
“Please do try, it would… be fun. It’s always cute when you attempt to do
it. I warned you: assassins are not easy to… kill …Omg, did you just ripped my
panties again!? Why can’t you just take them off normally?!”
“Because it’s not sexy, Princess.”
You both start laughing and then you
suddenly stop, just staring at each other.
“Com’ere Kitten,” he says after a long
pause, grinding his silver grill, shifting his body so you can get on top of
Damian Johnson married young; he was only 22 and his bride 21. They were so in
love. They both worked for the same gang, climbing their way on top pretty
fast. She got pregnant in the first year of marriage and he was so happy he was
going to be a father. Everything was moving fast, way too fast, both hungry for
power and striving to take over Gotham’s underworld. It wasn’t easy living that
life, but they liked it and as every young hot blooded person, thought that
nothing would stay in their way…until they pushed it too hard and messed with
the wrong people.
Damian lost her and his unborn child
in the fire that was set to their home as revenge for what they have done. He
was away with business and couldn’t do anything to stop it. Then the nightmares
started and they got worst and worst. He always dreamed she was burning alive,
screaming his name. He completely lost his mind, spending a few good years in
and out of mental institutions, high security prisons for criminally insane, back
on the streets to wreak havoc, caught again, escaped again and then…nothing. It
was like he vanished from the face of the earth. The FBI, police and Secret Service
spared no expense in looking for him since he was on the list of most wanted
criminals. But he was just gone.
***First time you met her was in June
on a Saturday-about a year ago***
You two are at one of your clubs for
the night. The Joker sits on his velvet couch in the VIP room and your favorite
spot is to sit on your big, fluffy pillow at his feet, resting your elbow on
his knees. You always like to wear form fitting black slacks and a white dressy
shirt when you have business meetings going on. You keep your guns in a dark
red holster in plain sight, just like the Joker. The meeting just ended and now
you are just laughing at something silly you guys remembered from when you first met so many years ago.
“Excuse me, boss,” Frost parts the
silver beads, stepping in. ”Sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation outside
and I think you should know about it.”
“What is it, Jonny?” you inquire,
curious to hear about something that might spice up the rest of the night.
“There’s a young woman at the door,
not old enough to get in and she says she won’t leave until she talks to Mister
“Just give her a push and tell her to
get lost!” The Joker smirks, pointing out the exit with his cane.
“We tried, but she is causing quite a
scene, we don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.”
“Jesus, Frosty, I’ll come check,” you
offer. “Another crazy one seeking for our attention. Make sure she’s not wired
and check the perimeter a few blocks around before you bring her in the soundproof room in the basement. I don’t want no trouble for J. Double the security
all around. “
“Of course, N/A, give me and the boys
a few minutes, I’ll let you know when she’s in.”
Frost leaves and you get on your
feet, stretching a bit, checking your two
guns to make sure they are loaded, even if you know they are.
“This is stupid, Pumpkin, you shouldn’t
bother, let Panda kill her or something,” the Joker smiles, tilting his head
while looking at you. His pale face seems emotionless now.
“I’ll go, I don’t mind, Puddin. I’ll
be back shortly; you just sit here and look handsome, all right? Enjoy the
show, the girls are doing a great job tonight. Want anything before I leave?”
“Yeah, you,” he purrs with an evil
spark in his ice cold blue eyes.
You giggle, kissing him roughly while
you rubbing yourself against him.
“I’ll be back, hold on…and then we
can have some fun,” you finally break the kiss, heading towards the stairs.
Panda guards the outside of the VIP room with 7 other guys. You stop in front
of him, baffled.
“You don’t get hot in that, Richard?
Must be 1000 degrees in there. You know, taking your mask off is not gonna kill
“But I like it, N/A,” the muffled
voice replies, lifting his shoulders up.
“Suit yourself, Rich, just don’t
faint on me, I need you alert, we might have something going on. Eyes on J, all
of you; nothing happens to him, OK?”
“Yes, m’am,” he salutes.
“Don’t be a smart ass with me,” you
threaten, shaking your head as you walk away.
You have time for a drink before Frost
finds you to tell you they have the girl where you wanted her.
Your high hills echo on the basement’s
floor. You open the door loudly and that startles the young woman sitting on
the chair, already guarded by two henchmen.
“She’s clean, N/A, no proof of anything
going on,” Frost reports, positioning himself to your left.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk…Could you gentlemen
leave us for a few moments while we girls talk?” you demand, sucking on your
The goons leave. You take one of you
guns out and pull up your sleeves, revealing your numerous Joker themed
tattoos. The girl looks frightened and she should be, she can’t take her eyes
off your weapon.
“Do you know who I am?” She nods a shy yes.
“Well, sweetheart,” you start
talking, getting closer,” what’s your deal, ha? Are you in need of attention or
do you have a death wish tonight? You look young, I’m sure it’s past your
bedtime,” you mock her, irritated.
“I’m 17…” she nervously gulps.
“I’m sorry, did I ask you to tell me your age???!”
you snap at her and she jumps, alarmed. You inhale, trying to somehow control
your vexation. “Why are you here?”
“I… I need to talk to the Joker…”
“ You mean MISTER J, sweetheart?,” you
“I’m sorry… Mister
“And why would that be, hmm? What do
She hesitates telling you so you’re losing
your patience. You start yelling:
“Here’s how it works:
nothing gets to him until it clears through me. Do you think you just ask to see him and it happens? !” You take the safety off you gun and point it towards her
head. “You have 10 seconds to tell me what is going on.”
The girl starts whimpering. “I… I
think he’s my father…”
Bam! The bullet barely misses her head;
you sure never heard that one before.
“I’ll be damn, that was less than 10
seconds and I already want to kill you!” Your finger gets on the trigger again.
“Please, please don’t…”she closes her
eyes, sobbing. “My mother’s name was Sarah Johnson and my father’s name was
Your hand freezes.
“How the hell do you know those
names?” you shriek, shocked that came out of her mouth. She continues to speak
and crying in the same time.
“I’ve always been
looking for my parents. I was raised in foster homes and trying to find out who
I am until I got a hold of my file and started researching my past. I’ve been
gathering information for the past year and I kind of came to the conclusion
“You’re trippin’, little girl, and I
have no more patience for your nonsense. Sarah Johnson is dead and her child
died with her,” you bite on your lip, starting to feel uneasy. “I’ve never
killed someone this young before, but, well, there’s a first time for
everything,” you mutter, furrowing your eyebrows. She has the nerve to
“They got my mother out the fire and
took her to the hospital, that’s what the file says. She was barely hanging to
her life, burned all over, but they were able to save her baby…They didn’t
know who she was at the moment, they deemed her Jane Doe for a very long time. Her
name and my father’s weren’t easy to come by. Here, I have everything with me.
He could…we could…do some…” she whimpers, taking
out a bunch of papers out of her purse, shaking. You yank all of it out of her
hand and back out, opening the door.
“You don’t get to make any requests, sweetheart,
thank your lucky star you are still alive. Frosty, keep a close eye on her, if
she moves a muscle, fucking shoot her. I’ll be back.”
“Will do, Y/N.”
There were rumors spreading around
Gotham’s underworld about a mysterious young girl working with the Joker and
Y/N. They were just speculations, of course, but some swore they saw her with
the two of them in different places before all hell broke loose. Nobody knew
who she was and how she ended up with them, but one thing was certain: the ones
that got a glimpse at her disclosed that the Queen and King of Crime simply addressed
her with Miss J.
the soft fabric of the robe lying against her skin made her smile, harley had given it to her & it was the first robe she had ever owned. — how silly she’d become, wearing a robe given to her by her boss all because she missed her & wanted something to remind her of her.
she had become prone to self torture as she spent most of her days and nights in harley’s home, sleeping in her bed, washing her clothes, and all around tending to her house. although she was currently missing, she would return eventually, and if her home was hideous she would surely scold sydney.
all of the information she had gathered in an effort to find harley was reported to frost & in return frost reported it to mr. j ;; he informed her that it would be best if she stirred clear of him. ‘he’s not himself’ frost reported and if she didn’t know any better she’d think frost genuinely cared about her well being. she couldn’t lie, frost was her go to, her elder, and in the end, he was the one who ultimately comforted her in his own way. tough love.
she found a slight relief in avoiding mr. j, for every time she looked at his face she saw a traitor. thanks to him, harley was taken by the batman to begin with & now they were all on edge to find her. if he’d have just taken five seconds to secure her belt and aid her escape, she’d be here. ——the lights were dim when she laid down to sleep, even though she knew sleep wouldn’t necessarily come & the relentless tossing and turning ailed her. she felt as though she had been restless for hours, but a sudden shift in her mattress caught her off guard.
her eyes popped open in a general shock as she slowly moved her fingers to the pistol lying between the mattress below her. the delicate silencer stretched out at the opening of the gun extended it slightly as she placed it against the forehead of her unknown visitor. —— she turned over slowly and used her free hand to switch on the lamp sitting on the night stand next to her. the pale skin of mr. j was exposed and the light green hair caught her off guard before anything else did. ❛ ya gotta be shittin me ———— the hell ya doin mr. j? ❜
The last known sighting of a dragon in Tamriel was in the time of
Tiber Septim. He made a pact with the few remaining dragons, swearing to
protect them if they would serve him. Despite his promise, dragons were
still hunted and slain. It’s not clear if the last ones fled Tamriel or
if they were exterminated.
There is no credible story of how dragons came to be. According to
dremora that the College of Whispers have “questioned,” they just were,
and are. Eternal, immortal, unchanging, and unyielding. They are not
born or hatched. They do not mate or breed. There are no known examples
of dragon eggs or dragonlings. The Iliac Bay area has stories of such
things, but so far all have proven false. The eggs turned out to be eggs
of other reptiles. The small dragons were merely oversized lizards and
no relation to true dragons.
Although they are not born, dragons can die. During the Dragon War of
the Merethic Era, their numbers were decimated. The Akaviri invaders of
the late First Era are said to have hunted and killed scores of them,
before and after their defeat by Emperor Reman. Some sources say the
Akaviri brought over dragon-killing spells. Others claim they built
cunning traps. One tale even speaks of a rare poison.
It is well accepted that a dragon’s most fearsome weapon is its fiery
breath. Because they could fly overhead and rain down flaming death,
archers and wizards were necessary when hunting them. It is less well
known that some dragons could breathe a freezing spray of frost. The
reports indicate that dragon might do one or the other, but not both.
Most people think of dragons as mere beasts. However, logically they
must have had language in order for Tiber Septim to have negotiated with
them. Indeed, the historical record is quite clear that dragons were
highly intelligent. They had their own language, but could also speak
the languages of men and elves.
The records of Reman’s hunts contain reports of dragons that breathe
or spit fire. Recently some were unearthed that described dragons
blowing freezing blasts of cold. The more fanciful tales have them
summoning storms and even stopping time. These should be discounted as
myths and faery tales. Even without this most fearsome weapon, their
nearly impenetrable hide and granite-like teeth and claws made them
There is some confusion over when the last dragon was killed. It
seems the last few vanished all at once. Some tales speak of a dragon
king who devoured all of them rather than let mankind kill them. One of
the more far-fetched stories has Tiber Septim absorbing their essences
when he ascended to godhood. Although the exact cause is unknown, they
are all gone. No dragon has been seen for centuries. There are a few
known examples of dragon bones fused with the stone and rocks of cliffs
and caves. Just enough proof to make the stories undeniable.
Summary: Killian Jones is one drunken mistake from never setting foot on a movie set again. Enter Emma Swan, the woman his manager has paid to pretend to date him and clean up his image. It seems straightforward enough…but there’s always trouble with faking it. CaptainSwan.
Their routine returns to normal, a steady stream of media events, award shows and Regina-assigned tasks to keep the press machine running smoothly, but as the weeks go by, there’s a shift Emma can’t ignore.
It began that afternoon in the hospital. She didn’t mean to say quite as much as she did, but once it was out there, once his story was out there, it’s been impossible to go back to pretending he doesn’t matter.
He matters. He might matter too much, but she tries to ignore that nagging doubt and just enjoy the comfort of his friendship, the time they spend together. He’s the first true friend she’s had in a long time, and there’s something worth cherishing about that.
But it’s more than that – he’s kept his word, not pushing for more, and slowly but surely, she relaxes around him, accepts she’s a part of his life now. At least for the next six months. After that…well, she tries not to think about what comes next.
He’s in the kitchen with her again, another late night baking session, when he gets it in his head he wants to learn to pipe frosting. “It appears quite simple when you do it,” he insists, gesturing to the piping bag as she swirls vanilla frosting over the latest batch of cupcakes.
“It’s not that hard. C’mere.” Emma smiles in invitation, placing an unfrosted cupcake onto the counter in front of her.
While America collectively freaks out over their impending ‘polar vortex’, Canada is changing the game when it comes to cold weather phenomenon as reports of 'frost quakes’ emerge from around Toronto and Ontario.
In case you forget that Ice is super effective against Ground.