this-is-how-you-loose-her

Play with Me (Chapter 1)

The reader is a meta-human whose powers include blood (only when outside of the body) manipulation. Because of these powers the reader is captured and experimented on. Once she gets out she is a little crazy…and is looking for something to distract from the nightmares and finds a nightmare of her own, the Clown Prince of Crime.

Introduction


     ‘So that was him,’ you purred to yourself. The infamous Joker, the one who terrorized the city of Gotham so expertly. What was there to fear? All you saw was a man with a gun and a few loose screws. You giggled as you watched him speed away from the city almost as if he was a child throwing a tantrum. He was interesting and dangerous just the kind of adventure you were looking for. 

    ‘Why did people fear him? Why did people follow his rule? How had he become untouchable?’ Thats what you wanted. Its what you needed. There was something about him that was intoxicating. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Everyone else in the city had seemed so boring and ordinary but you finally you found something that made you think. Someone to challenge you. Curiosity had always been your downfall. That’s how you ended up trapped in the damn place. Your face fell as flash backs played in the back of your mind of the horrors and daily experiments you endured. You shook the feelings off and smiled thinking of your new playmate. You had heard of a club that was owned by the Joker. Now all you had to do was find it.


     He opened the double doors to his club in his iconic, dramatic fashion. Many people looked up in shock as he walked through the door way with his men trailing behind him. It had been a while since the Joker had visited his own club. 

     ‘Finally, maybe I will have some fun for more than an hour,’ he thought as he scanned the many scared faces in the crowd. The host led him to his usual V.I.P. section, which gave him the perfect view of the entire club. The girls who frequented the club waved hello in hopes of a one night stand with the Crown Prince of Crime. 

     ‘Boring,’ he growled. He over looked them and took his time trying to single someone out. They were all the same, no one was interesting enough to hold his attention for more than a minute. No one was worth his time. 

     ‘Damnit, it’s all the same,’ he thought to himself. This was supposed to be entertaining. This was supposed to be distracting from the boredom that plagued him. He threw his drink against the wall in frustration as his eyes drifted to a girl standing at the bar. 

     You were wearing a tight maroon dress that formed to all your curves with black heels studded with golf which coincidentally matched his own maroon shirt, slimming black dress pants, and of course the many gold accessories. His breathing slowed as his eyes moved up your body again to your purple tipped hair and finally rested on your eyes. Of course you were already staring at him. 

     You smirked as he returned your gaze and you quickly turned back to the meaningless conversation you were having with the guy beside you fully aware the Joker’s eyes were still locked on you. He growled as he watched you push yourself up against the guy at the bar. 

     ‘Bad girl,’ he thought to himself. He wouldn’t let you get away now, not after that little display. He smirked getting up from his VIP booth and headed through the dance floor to the bar. You could feel the goosebumps rising as the green haired man leaned in-between you and the guy at the bar, separating the two of you. The Joker just glanced over his shoulder causing him to run before his life was on the line. You giggled watching him run in fear. 

     “Hmm, I haven’t seen you here before,” the Joker purred taking in the details of your face. He didn’t know what it was about you that captivated him. It frustrated him. You looked just like any other girl. 

     “You don’t tend to come around here anymore,” you retaliated, trying to hide your excitement. The Joker laughed loudly at your boldness, startling everyone else in the club. 

     “What’s your name doll face?” he asked casually not wanting to scare away his pretty new toy. You smirked, biting your lip liking where this game was going.

     “How about you tell me yours first?” you asked calmly taking a sip of your drink. He just stared at you in disbelief. Did this girl really not know who he was? Or was this just a game? 

     “Call me Mr. J,” He said calmly as he nodded to the bar tender who instantly had a drink ready for him. He was already loosing patiences as you leaned toward him so you could whisper in his ear.      

     “What about the Joker? J seems to be a favorite too,” you sat back down, smirking up at him. You were obviously teasing him, trying to draw him in. You wanted him to want you. You wanted a willing playmate. 

     “Whichever you want,” he said sternly moving closer to you. “I won’t ask for your name again doll,” he threatened still smiling. He liked this game you started. No one had ever tried to challenge him. 

     “Calm down, I was only playing,” you pouted innocently. “It’s y/n.” He moved even closer to you trying to close the gap between you two but you leaned away to tease him. Both of you had your eyes locked on each other trying to figure out what was so intoxicating about the other. You were having fun and it seems your new toy was just as curious as you were. He reached down to move some hair out of your face. 

     “Maybe we should get out of here. Take this conversation somewhere more… Private,” Mr. J growled this time wrapping an arm around your waist finally closing the gap between the two of you, giving you no way to escape. You blushed being so close to him. 

     “Hmmmmm, bringing home stray girls tonight Mr. J?” you teased. “Or are you looking for a new queen?” He smirked, deciding to play your game. 

     “Why? You think you are crazy enough to be my queen?” He chuckled to himself finding the thought funny. How could anyone keep up with him? They were just toys to him. There was no way he could keep a girl alive for more than a week let alone long enough to claim her as his queen. Even if this girl was different there was no way she would last, but he would enjoy watching her try. You giggled watching him think. 

     “Why don’t you find out for yourself Mr. J,” you smirked as you slipped out of his grip trying to regain some control. Mr. J growled and stepped towards you cracking his neck. His body language had changed and it put you on edge. 

     “So you want to play?” Mr. J laughed as he quickly drew his gun, pointing it at you. People started running out of the club trying to not become the next victims of the Joker’s rage. “Come here y/n.” he commanded. He didn’t like disobedience. He would show you who was in charge. 

     ‘Why did he have to ruin the fun’ you thought to yourself as you pouted. You just wanted to play. Why did he have to be so…so…Serious? 

     “Hmmmmmm,” you hummed to yourself attempting to defuse the situation. “I don’t know if i like this serious side of you Mr. J,” you said still pouting at your playmate. You slammed your glass down onto the bar, shattering it in your hand. “Why don’t we stick to the fun? We don’t want anyone getting hurt do we?” you continued giggling as you crushed the shards of glass into you palm preparing for the worst. He didn’t even notice the blood. 

     That ticked him off. 

     ‘Was this girl really threatening me?! Challenging me?!’ He decided that the game was over. He turned his back to you and quickly pulled the trigger without a second thought. 

     “All that chit chat is gonna get you killed doll face,” Mr. J chuckled to himself waiting to hear your body drop to the floor. He waited and turned around in confusion at the absence of that familiar thud, only to see you glaring back at him. You looked completely different as you examined the bullet now suspended in your blood at the center of your palm. He could see the fire in your eyes as you debated your next move. You threw the bullet back at him noticeably angry. You let the blood surround you right hand, taking pleasure in the sensation. 

     “Is it now Mr. J?” you glared at him. You let the blood slowly surround your right hand, keeping your eyes locked on Mr. J. “I don’t like being shot at,” you said seriously. All the bad memories of how you were treated flowed back into your crazed mind. You were tied down and caged but not this time. Not now. You were free. 

     “How did you do that?” he grinned looking at you with wonder in his eyes. ‘Oh she is just getting more interesting by the minute!’ He was happy you stopped his bullet. He thought about all the fun he could have with you now. The rage in your eyes burned as you the blood suddenly formed a blade around your hand. You giggled tilting your head to the side as you stepped towards Mr. J. 

     “Let’s play Mr. J. I hear you like knives,” you laughed a little and lunged forward hitting the wall behind Mr. J’s head, missing him by only an inch. You knew he would doge your blow. If he hadn’t he wouldn’t be a worthy playmate and the game would be over. 

     “Ok, ok princess you win,” Mr. J said holding his hands up, surrendering to you. “I took the first shot so I’ll let this little display slide this time,” he said chuckling to himself. You raised an eyebrow wondering if he was serious. “Why don’t we work together? I think I’d like to continue this little game of ours,” he continued. You smiled widely letting the blood return to liquid while you wrapped your arms around Mr. J’s neck. 

     “When do I start?” you giggled letting the bad memories slip away. Mr. J unhooked your arms from his neck and wrapped one of his around your waist. He signaled his men to bring the car around. 

      “How about now doll face? Lets see what you can really do,” Mr. J said excitedly as he pulled you towards the exit. If you could stop a bullet Mr.J was curious to see what real power you had inside of you. He wondered how long the game could last between you two. Would he kill you? Or would you beat him to the punch? 

     “Mmmm, no more shots?” You questioned teasingly. 

     “No more shots…for now,” he smirked thinking about how you would hold up against a semi-automatic weapon. You pouted accepting Mr. J’s offer. 

     You leaned into his shoulder feeling an odd comfort next to him as you walked towards the car. He was terrifying and psychotic but next to this man no one would ever cage you again. No one would be able to touch you. Except for him. You giggled as the dirty thoughts passed through your mind. You were crazy and damaged, but so was he. You drifted into your own thoughts as you often did when you were alone. 

     “Why so quiet all of the sudden?” Mr. J questioned, noticing your lost expression. You instantly perked up burring the thoughts back down. 

     “Nothing. Just thinking about all the fun we will have together,” you purred as Mr. J pulled you into the car and onto his lap. He signaled his driver to take off and off you went towards his hideout on the outskirts of Gotham. 

anonymous asked:

wait, how did blue survive crossing the border out of bat city? there's something else she says after she's across, shes addressing red and says something like "even though you knew I bleed you still did this for me" is this implying that she was human the whole time or???? how did she live

Yeah, I have no idea what happened there, tbh. I guess the implication was that she’s partly human (which still raises a LOT of questions), but why was she able to cross the border? Even if she’s built differently, why would she be unaffected by the border? Why would they build her that way? This is why I say that the comics read like a rough draft–there are so many loose, vaguely defined ideas with no connection to anything else, especially near the end.

what if in Trials of Apollo (since we’ve already seen Percy is pretty tired of stuff) Percy turns bitter and becomes an antagonist

just like Luke

I’ve got to believe that the Resistance’s intelligence officers are just. constantly Done. With everyone.

Rey’s understanding of aurebesh is more functional than formal, which isn’t a problem until the Resistance starts asking her to submit mission reports—she rarely spells anything the same way twice (”even her name!” the intelligence officer moans) and her sentence structure is….not so much a structure as “a loose grouping of things that might be parts of speech”

“…..I don’t understand, what’s the problem?” Finn asks because Finn’s grammar is impeccable, once you decipher the dense nest of abbreviations, First Order codes, and trooper slang that fill his reports. (This does not save any more time.)

“If you could maybe…..not? wax lyrical about the TIE fighter?” the intelligence officer tells Poe, when he finally gets around to submitting his report on the escape from the Finalizer. “Not that understanding enemy technology isn’t a vital contribution to intelligence, but we don’t need 500 polysyllabic words about how the sun glinted off the casing.”

General Organa still submits reports like they used to in the Rebellion (her battle damage assessment style is about thirty years out of date, and she calculates galactic coordinates like it’s the late republic) but everyone in intel is fucking terrified of bringing this up to her. Instead, they have a designated officer who deals exclusively with translating General Organa’s reports into more modern New Republic standards,so they can be processed.

(At least yours actually submits reports, their counterparts in the First Order would say, if they all got together in a bar somewhere to commiserate about how hard soldiers make military intelligence. Kylo Ren has submitted exactly one misrep in the last 15 years. Thirty-two people died and it just said ‘it was the Force’.)

Tell her how you feel. Even if it makes your throat burn and your hands shake so bad that you drop everything.

Tell her that you love her even though you’re fucking terrified because you’ve only ever seen love ruin and kill.

Tell her she’s revived the parts of you that your mother ruined and your dad covered up with a loose band-aid as if that would fix anything.

Tell her how you feel.

—  just fucking do it
6

How can he ignore me like this?

One. Hold her hand. Hold her hand and give it a few soft kisses. Don’t hold it too tight, don’t hold it too loose. Think of her hand as something that is so fragile, that is so precious, and that you might actually break her if you were to mishold her.

Two. Be her shoulder to lean on. Be her listening ear despite all circumstances. She got herself a new dress? Watch and listen to her getting all excited about it. She got herself a new friend? Listen to her talking about how great her new friend is. She got mad because of some obnoxious human? Listen to her ranting about it and tell her that it will be just fine. She’s a little too sad to say anything? Let her rest on your shoulder and gently caress her head. Just be there for her no matter what happens.

Three. Be patient with her. Bear with her. She will annoy the fuck out of you, she will get on your nerves, she will tease you so much in a way that you will question why were you here in the first place. But hey, you will learn that those are the things that makes her, her. You will find them lovely, adorable, and you will miss it- oh god I swear you will fucking miss it.

Four. No yelling. No shouting. No forcing but yes nagging. You can nag at her, but in a nice way. Nag at her when she is too lazy to complete a certain important task. Nag at her when she does something wrong, then give her a soft kiss to tell her that it’s all alright. Be her rock, be her motivator, be her inspiration. If you are going to love her, you have to help her to carry herself through life.

Five. Be her home. Be her shelter. If anyone were to make her sad, comfort her and kick those who made her frown. Wrap your arms around her and gently pat on her back, she will love it when you do. She will feel safe, she will feel secure in such gentle arms. If she happens to cry in the middle of the embrace, hold her tighter. Who cares if she will wet your shirt with her tears and snots, be happy that you have the privilege to be her tissue. Don’t forget to kiss her tears away, to kiss her sadness away, to kiss everything that has gone wrong away.

Six, if you think that you can capture her heart by gifting her flowers everyday, you are wrong. If you think that sweet talks will make her stay, will keep her going, you are wrong. If you think that you can get her to love you by trying to be someone you’re not, you are so wrong. Just be yourself, just be natural when you are with her. It’s fine if you were to make an accidental mistake, she will not leave because of that. She doesn’t want a perfect man, she only wants a man who will love and accept her wholly.

Seven. Tease her. Joke with her. Make her laugh. Make her smile. Be her best friend, be her lover, be her brother, be her everything. Just make sure that she is having a good time with you, that she is comfortable around you. Don’t you dare make her cry, don’t you dare be the reason why she is wilting. The only tears she should have are happy tears. Oh, and if she were to get upset from your teasing, give her a kiss on the forehead. She might push you away at first but she will love it- oh she will love it so much.

Eight. BE HONEST. I have to emphasize so much on this one. No matter what happens, don’t ever lie to her. Tell her what she needs to know, tell her what she wants to know and DO NOT fabricate things. Honesty is a sign of love and respect for her, so if you do love her, if you do respect her, you need to be honest with her. She is an intelligent lady, she will know if you were to lie to her.

Nine. Do love her wholeheartedly. Do care for her. Do grow with her. Do let her run wild. Don’t let her go to bed mad or sad. Don’t make her feel unwanted. Don’t make her feel lonely. Don’t push her away. Don’t ever let her go. If you really do love her, please love her until the very end.

—  L.W. // Ways to love her (I think you will love her better than I do)

Hello, tumblr.

I don’t usually like to do these posts asking you to sign petitions, because this is social media and not activist media, y’know? You guys don’t follow me for this. But I’m going to do this, just this one time.

Now, those of you in the UK likely already know Katie Hopkins far too well, but abroad she’s less of a known quantity, so allow me to explain-

Katie Hopkins is an article writer for such psuedo-newspapers as ‘The Sun’ and ‘The Daily Mail’. Loosely, she could be termed a journalist, but really she’s employed to say things that are controversial. Over the years, she’s written such literary masterpieces as this-

or these-

and you likely know her best for her well-documented pointers on how she won’t let her children play with children who have the names of places but her kid’s called India. Yeah. That lady.

Now, ordinarily I wouldn’t be pissed. Ordinarily I’d dismiss her as what she is, which is contrived clickbait, and carry on.

But this week, a ship carrying migrants capsized in the Mediterranean. The death toll is expected, at this moment, to reach 950. These migrants, it is believed, were mostly locked in the cargo hold; they could not escape. It is a tragedy of untold size. 

And while Katie Hopkins wrote this hours before this tragedy, not hours after, it is still a damning thing to see hundreds of human lives lost and then see this-

Within this article, Katie Hopkins explains how these “cockroaches” are “built to survive a nuclear bomb”, and the only way to ‘stop’ them is to “burn all the boats in North Africa”.

She called them “vermin”.

She called for their murders.

She is being paid to write this.

Signing a petition to fire this horrible, horrible woman is not a mark against the right to free speech. She may speak as much as any human being. But paying her to speak on a national platform should no longer be tolerated. Katie Hopkins called for a tragedy the size of the one that happened. 

I hate asking people to do anything against another human being. But I’m begging you to help us get Katie Hopkins out of the news and away from the tragic deaths of hundreds upon hundreds of human lives lost.

https://www.change.org/p/the-sun-newspaper-remove-katie-hopkins-as-a-columnist

9

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! (2016):

Fan drawn gifs by me especially for New Year’s and Christmas.

Days of celebration were never particularly special for little Juvia. She quietly watched how everyone around her laughed and had the fun she knew she couldn’t be a part of. Beginning to suspect that perhaps it’d be wise to abandon the idea of happiness and friends, Fate throws her a sign, through a passing by Ice mage, who paints an ice tree on the orphanage’s window. This tree, that only Juvia sees, becomes a sign that she mustn’t loose hope just yet, because her happiness is still awaiting her! 

Do not let the bad experiences cloud the good ones and remember, that a little bit of hope can take you a long way. I wish you all a wonderful year ahead, and trust it’ll bring you lots of new happy memories! Happy New Year, everyone!

the last hours snippet

As promised!

From where they were, they had a perfect view of James, standing straight and polite as Tatiana Blackthorn, wearing a faded fuschia dresses stained with dark spots, advanced on him, a witchlight torch in her hand.

“How dare you come here, Will Herondale,” she said, a savage tone to her voice. “What is left for you to destroy? You murdered my husband and my father —“

Lucie made a small whimpering noise. Cordelia clutched at her cold hand, squeezing it for comfort.

“That’s James.” It was Grace, dressed all in a long white nightgown with a white dressing-gown over it. White slippers covered her feet and her blonde hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. “It isn’t Mr. Herondale, Mama. It’s his son.”

Grief in Steven Universe

Alright so can we talk about how well this show deals with the loss of a loved one.

As someone who found this show after loosing their father I was deep within the grief process when I started watching Steven Universe. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Steven’s mother lost her physical form and everyone was STILL in the grieving process.

This show displays how grief really is: it has no real rhyme or reason. People like to think once you get passed the stages of grief that it’s over, but it’s not. It will come back, and you will never truly be the same after that loved one has passed. You will always remember them, and some things will remind you of them, dealing with grief is different for every individual.


Amethyst’s grief forms mainly in anger, it’s obvious that she has not fully moved on from Rose’s passing. She gets angry instead of sad as a way to protect herself. It’s a natural part of grief and a way for the mind to protect its vulnerable state.

Pearl’s grief seems to form into depression and forms of isolation. While Amethyst seems to have viewed Rose as more of a motherly figure, Pearl looked to Rose as a leader and a very precious loved one (unsure if romantic or otherwise). Depression is a part of acceptance in grief, it stems from the realization that you will not see that person you cared for anymore, and it’s very easy to fall back into depression when reminded of that person. The stages of grief live with you, ultimately you move on but you may still one day fall back into the stages. One of the hardest things in the world can be the knowledge that your did not know everything you thought you knew about a loved one. People keep secrets for different reasons, but it doesn’t lessen the pain of it all. It’s clear Pearl felt she was the closest to Rose and that Rose told her everything, but that just wasn’t true, and she must learn to deal with this new knowledge.

Garnet is… the hardest to pinpoint in terms of how she is dealing with the loss of Rose. We have yet to see her show the same moments as Amethyst and Pearl have regarding Rose. It would appear from what we have seen that Garnet has accepted Rose’s death better than the others, at least on the surface. It’s clear she still becomes melancholy when something about Rose is brought up but does not tear up or lash out or in any real obvious manner. BUT that does not mean she is not grieving! Quiet isolation is a form of grieving and it comes in both accepting death and the depression of that acceptance. Screaming and crying are not all there is to grief, a lot of it is quiet after a while, quiet mourning and not wanting any reminder of the person. Trying to escape and find other things to occupy your thoughts. Garnet is the leader of the group, she may feel she cannot show her grief as outwardly as Amethyst or cry like Pearl, but this does not mean she is not grieving. If anything she could be bottling it up which is never good in the long run.


Above all Steven Universe deals with grief in the most mature and pure way I have ever seen on television, or any kind of media to be honest. It knows grief is not just anger and crying, it knows you cannot simply ‘get over’ the death of a loved one, and above all it does not treat grief as if it is something that can be solved easily or gone in a flash. It’s real, it’s painful, and it stays with you. Steven Universe has helped me identify my own grief and shown me that my feelings are validated, something that not even people may do for you. Its handle on this subject is breathtaking and beautiful and just one more reason why I love this show and why it is so incredible.

8

SHADOWHUNTERS CHRONICLES: vibrant colours + THE LAST HOURS

“How dare you come here, Will Herondale,” she said, a savage tone to her voice. “What is left for you to destroy? You murdered my husband and my father —“Lucie made a small whimpering noise. Cordelia clutched at her cold hand, squeezing it for comfort.“That’s James.” It was Grace, dressed all in a long white nightgown with a white dressing-gown over it. White slippers covered her feet and her blonde hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. “It isn’t Mr. Herondale, Mama. It’s his son.”

Marriage..

My older brother is getting married tomorrow ☺️☺️☺️ ..I’ve been watching him fall in love with his girlfriend for years. She’s a lovely woman and I know she’ll make my brother a happy man. When he talks about her he always smiles and I remember him explaining to me why she might be the woman he ends up marrying.

He said “I’ve dated a lot of women but I’ve never met a woman like her before. It took me years to find someone like her and I’m not risking loosing her, for what? there’s nothing out here worth risking over her, when you find that person you’ll understand”

As siblings, I cannot believe how far we’ve come. We’re all growing up now, it’s weird. Tomorrow is going to be fun. Oi thehouseofhippies our big brother is getting married yo ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

Hashtag: I haven’t brought my outfit yet fuck.

4

i got an ask about drawing george/cyclops and made a joke about it but actually i think i’m going to answer it seriously.

when inexperienced in the ways of drawing cyclops, the easiest starting place it to think about how you’d draw a normal human face and then transforming the outer corner of each eye into the corners of the cyclops’ single eye – though this only works if said cyclops has a giant anime eye like george.

more than anything else, practice is key! and it’s important to just be loose and have fun with it! it’s not an exact science, i handle it much more loosely than shown in this post since i draw her so much i’m very comfortable with it, this is just a good starting point!

good luck!

Tease

Requests: “Hello love! Could you write a smut with kol andd the reader where the reader is shy and kol finds out she has a crush and teases her like he s running around with no shirt and makes comments”

How could you have been so stupid enough to open the bathroom door when you knew Kol was in the shower. Sure maybe in the back of your mind you knew you had a crush on him. It was quite obvious and everybody saw that. But you knew Kol didn’t know it, so all is well.

“Oh god sorry!” You covered your eyes when you walked in on Kol, a towel hanging loosely around his waist and he was using another towel to dry his damp hair atop his head. “Um, b-bye.” You shook your head and slammed the door shut. Never had you seen him shirtless before, and you didn’t get to see details because of how quickly you left.  

Keep reading

5

“It’s in there?”

“Yeah,” she puts her hand on his shoulder, running it down his arm to take his trembling hand as it floats over the box, hardly touching it. He interlaces their fingers loosely, his skin barely grazing hers, still wary with his touches, still restrained and afraid. When he looks at her she wonders how she had missed it, the blankness in his eyes, the dimness in his smile.

Keep reading

I like how the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them trailer suggests that the plot of the movie is that Newt lost a bunch of fantastic beasts and literally needs to find them. Not on him writing the book, not on him going on adventures to find these animals in the wild. No. He, like a twat, let a bunch of potentially dangerous fucking magical beasts loose in muggle New York and has to fucking find them like a middle aged woman looking for her lost Pomeranian in suburban Philidelphia. Hello, have you seen my baby basilisk? Probably not since your still fucking alive. What about my hippogriff? No? Try the assylum some guy claimed to see one? Okay. Here take a fucking flyer.

She remembers when you forget. 

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her. 

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. 

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.