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deimagines · 3 years ago

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Sparks (A Barry Allen & Y/N Daughter Imagine)

Imagine your and Barry's daughter, the prodigy speedster and hero Sparks, was traveling through time to check up on Nora. Even though she hates time traveling, she loves Nora enough to let her go through with staying in past to get to know their father as an apology for the years of secrecy. But it was a disturbing visit for Team Flash due to her terrifying resembles of you, her mother.

Note: I do not own anything from the DC or CW. Or anything from the Flash.

Two years old Etta was the apple of Barry’s eye. Named after his father, Henrietta was the last gift that was left to him and his friends and family after the great demise of his great love, Y/N.

The day Barry met Y/N was the same day he met the Arrow, Oliver Queen, and Felicity. Y/N accompanied them to a crime scene in Star City and Barry couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Which annoyed Oliver very much.

And when Barry got his powers, Oliver sent Y/N to keep an eye on him and prevent him from doing anything stupid. Barry didn’t think that he would ever fall out of love with Iris, but from work to hero business Y/N did the impossible. She was the impossible.

Eventually, they fell in love and Barry asked her hand in marriage. And at some point, Y/N became pregnant.

But one night, when she went to help Oliver’s battle with the League of Assassins, she was killed.

That night broke Barry into a mental state that would then seduce him into creating the Flashpoint which gave him back his beloved.

Unfortunately, his happily ever after wasn't to last and he had no choice but to fix his mistakes. But either way, he was glad he did.

The aftermath of flashpoint gave him his daughter. Born a month before Y/N’s death.

It took a while for him to repair all the damages he ‘caused and accept the fact that Y/N was gone. And when he finally made peace with it, he found the courage to move on and formed a relationship with Iris like he dreamed of before ever meeting his soulmate.

“Okay, let’s try this again. Explain.”

Nora squirms in her seat as her parents stare down at her while the rest of the team watches them.

They had just returned from their fight with a metahuman who was strong enough and cunning enough to capture Nora in his arms and threatened Barry to let him go otherwise he’d kill her and then suddenly she wasn’t in his arms anymore. In fact, she appeared on the other side of the fight and Barry was quick enough to outsmart the villain and bring him to the meta prison.

What really frightened him was that he couldn’t find any explanation for how Nora escaped and when he and Cisco did, they all led to the same answer. Nothing.

And the way Nora was acting and fidgeting, the team could easily tell that she knows how.

“Well, I. . . maybe have an idea. But it is not a sure idea because it is literally a thought that I just came up with. Which is really the definition of an idea.”

“Nora.”

“You know what, all this thinking is making me hungry, are you hungry? “Cause I’m really hungry. Maybe we can get that new combo that Big Belly Burger released today! I hadn’t had that meal in weeks and it’s my favorite.”

Her parents shared a look.

“Nora-”

“Actually let's see if Etta is still awake. Family night! Right? Right! Let's go!”

She was about to leave her spot but Iris stopped her and gestured for her to sit back down.

“Nora Allen, I may not have raised you yet but you are a terrible liar, just like your father.”

Cisco and Caitlin then shared a look.

“So spill.” Iris crossed her arms and waited.

Nora fidgets her hands and sighs as she closes her eyes in defeat. “Fine. Look, this is going to be difficult to explain. But I’m really trying, honest!” She assures them after she was getting doubtful looks from them. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

Barry narrows his brows at her. “Explain what?”

Nora didn’t get a chance to answer when the emergency red lights were flickering on and off and the alarms were blaring from the speakers.

“What’s happening?” Ralph asked.

“Securities have been breached.” Caitlin explains as she and Cisco rushed over to the monitors and checked the security cameras.

After a moment, the red lights turned off and the alarm went silent.

Suddenly, green lighting was glowing the Cortex and the familiar sounds of the winds of a speedster stopping were heard.

And there, in the middle of the room, stood a hooded figure with a scarf and goggles hiding their face. The suit that they were wearing was all black with green details lining her arms, chest and legs. It hugged their figure very well for Team Flash to deduce that the speedster was indeed in fact a woman.

Barry pulled on his mask and glared at the female speedster as Nora stood up and Iris stood next to her in an attempt to hide her from the intruder's view.

“Who are you?” He demanded in a strong tone.

The black and green speedster ignored Barry and focused all her attention on his daughter, causing Barry to lose his cool and yell at her.

“WHO ARE YOU?!”

She remained silent, which enraged Barry even more. The red streak's face finally catches her eyes after she takes a step forward . Though it is somewhat calm, rage can be easily read from it. And when he couldn’t hold back any longer, Barry made the first move and sped over to try and catch her, but she ran away.

So he chases her.

“Dad! Wait!” Nora calls in worry. But it wasn’t for her father.

She chases after them.

“Nora!” Iris yells for her daughter.

Meanwhile, Barry chases the female speedster all over S.T.A.R. Labs, trying to catch up to her. But as hard as he didn’t want to admit, she was faster than him by a second. They ran from the meta prison to the Speed Lab. He thought he had the upper hand when he jumped from the wall and reached to catch her from behind. He was unsuccessful when she turned swiftly and caught his wrist and grabbed his shoulder to maneuver his body and throw him against a concrete wall.

At his impact to the solid surface, he groaned painfully and fell to the floor. He propped his elbow to look up at her. She stops and looks at him in what he believes to be a taunting move. As soon as he stood up and found his balance, he was going to lunge at her.

Nora however stops him by appearing in front of the female speedster with her arms up. Shielding the masked intruder from her father.

“No, no, no, no, no, dad! It’s okay! It’s okay!” She tries to calm him down.

Team Flash manages to catch up to them and enters the room. Cisco, Caitlin, and Ralph readied themselves in case Barry needed help.

“Nora, what are you doing? Get away from her!” Barry exclaims. Fearing for her safety.

“She’s good! She’s good, I promise! She’s not going to hurt us.” Nora assures him.

Barry shakes his head at her in disbelief. “How can you know that?!” He didn’t mean to snap, but he couldn’t care less either.

Nora hesitated, she placed down her arms to her side and slowly turned to the female speedster behind her.

“Because she’s not a stranger.”

At her answer, the black-and-green speedster pulls down her hood to reveal a shade of Y/H/C locks and Y/S/C skin. She removes her mask, and then her goggles, placing them on top of her head.

The training room was still dark, but the light from the corridor was enough to identify the face of their new ‘friend’. But when she steps into the light more, they sort of wish that she could’ve done it sooner.

“It can’t be. . .” Cisco whispers.

Caitlin's eyes started to cloud. “I don’t believe it.”

Barry's breath caught when he stared into the familiar pair of Y/E/C eyes that once belonged to the woman who held his heart with all of his existence.

“. . .Y/N?” He croaks.

“No,” Nora says and quickly corrects him. “Etta.”

Barry looks between Nora and Y/- Etta as the realization finally hits him. This woman, who could be a carbon copy of the love of his life, was his daughter. His baby was not a baby. She had definitely grown into the woman that he had hoped for. To be beautiful like her mother.

“Etta.” He says with wonderment.

Etta wasn’t fazed by the way he was looking at her. “Sorry about that. I was. . . actually that’s not important.” She returned her attention to Nora, her step-sister, and gave her a kind smile.

“Hey Sis.” Nora smiles happily and gives her big sister a bear hug.

Etta laughs a little, which sends a little shiver inside of Barry. She even sounds like her, laughs like her, and yet she wasn’t. She was still his little toddling Etta.

“Hey,” She says and pulls back to look at Nora, up and down before placing a hand on her cheek. “You okay? When I saw that douchebag touching you I couldn’t help but want to rip his arms off.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely her mother.” Cisco comments, but is still content, and a bit freaked out, that future Henrietta was here.

“I’m good.” Nora says. Assuring her sister that she wasn’t harmed.

Etta sighs in relief and taps Nora's chin. “Good.”

Suddenly she grabs Nora by the ear and pulls down hard.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” Nora expresses her pain loudly.

“What the hell were you thinking??” Etta said angrily.

Everyone watched as the eldest Allen child dragged her sister by the ear and out to the corridor. They all shared a look and then they follow the girls behind, listening to Etta's ranting as Nora continues to moan in pain.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow-”

“I thought we agreed that you would stay and get to know dad, instead you decided to play hero??”

“Ow, ow, ow,-”

“I specifically told you not to interfere with any of their battles and yet you still couldn’t follow that one rule?”

“Should we help her?” Ralph asks.”

“No, I think it’s best that she settles this on her own.” Joe councils.

“I-is that a good idea?” Barry asked.

“OWWWWW!”

“Maybe?”

***

Once again, Nora found herself sitting on a chair while rubbing the sting on her ear away.

Her sister Etta was still trying to avoid her father’s gaze ever since she calmed down. Well, everyone’s gaze really. And she knew why.

“Uh hi,” Cisco was the first one to break the tension in the room. “Sorry, but I just wanna say how creepy it is that you look like your mom. I mean, the resemblance is so. . .”

Etta looks at him and he just shakes his head.

“Creepy.” He finishes.

“Yeah, you and the rest of the people in my life say so.” Etta mutters.

“What are you doing here, Etta?” Nora asks in a tired voice, but mostly like she was accusing her.

“Uh-uh, you are not using that tone with me.” Etta points at her. “You stopped sending in your routined messages-"

"You send messages to the future?" Ralph asked.

"Gideon." Nora says the AI's name.

Barry finally broke his gaze away from Etta. "Gideon?"

"He sends out my messages to Etta in the future to let her know I'm okay."

"Who's Gideon?" Ralph asks, being more confused by the second.

Cisco was the one to answer."Gideon's the AI that Barry built in the future and was-"

Etta was clearly losing her patience."Can we please stop talking about Gideon."

But she left Ralph in a mental crisis.

"I got worried." She points to herself.

“You shouldn’t be.” Nora interjects. “I was with dad."

Etta scoffs. "That doesn't give you a pass to not let me in the know."

"Why should I?" Nora glares up at her.

"Because you are still just a child and as much as it hurts to hear it is the truth."

Nora pursed her lips to keep her from shouting.

Etta sighs tiredly and pinches the crook of her nose. "Look, Nora. You are smart. So smart that I shouldn't even have to remind you that you are still new with your powers. That’s why I agreed to let you learn from dad."

The youngest Allen child looked down in frustration and it was not because she was being scolded, but because of herself. Nora knew that Etta was right, but she wouldn't be where she is with Barry if she hadn't made the choice that would ruin their sisterhood.

"When are you gonna realise that I'm not gonna be there all the time whenever you make a mistake?"

Etta turns around and begins to walk out the Cortex.

"Where are you going?" Cisco asked as she passed him.

"The lounge.” She responded and disappeared through the corridor.

***

Central City, 2049.

“Sparks.”

Etta looks up at Clark Kent, Superman who broke her out of her gaze.

“You okay?”

Etta nods. “Kind of. Just feeling a little homesick.”

“I can understand.” Clark places a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You must miss them terribly.”

The speedster smiles sadly. The Justice League had just come back from one of their missions at Coast City. Her three month old son Don was the highlight of her life whenever she came back from a mission or a battle in Central City. “Now I know how my dad feels whenever he’s out doing missions for the Justice League.”

Clark snorts. “Are you kidding me? He was a complete mess compared to you during the Crisis. Trust me, you are handling this better than he did.”

She smiled, but not because she was humoured. Clark drops his smile slowly, apologies quietly.

“I’m sorry. Your father was a good man.”

She only gave another nod before standing up from her chair, her father’s chair. After his disappearance, Etta trained to be Central City’s protector and had taken her father’s place in the Justice League at the age of eighteen. It wasn’t as easy to understand her powers alone, her aunts and uncles were there to help, but she wanted to learn from her father once.

The first memory she has of him that popped into her head was when she was four and had a nightmare about a black ghost with red eyes. She woke up and her father came into her nursery, shushing her lovingly and told her she was okay. Once she calmed down, she told him about the monster and he had a sad look on his face but it was only brief before he told her that he would scare all the monsters away so that his little princess would sleep peacefully. Then, he picked her up from bed, took her to the kitchen and made them both ice cream sundaes. They had to be quiet since they didn’t want to wake up Iris and get in trouble.

“Thank you.” She says to Clark. “I better get going, Micheal and Don are waiting for me.”

“Tell Michael I said hi.” Clark says before giving her a parting hug.

“I will. See you at the next meeting.” She waves and runs out of the Hall of Justice.

Her physical home in Central City was a penthouse that she and Michael had brought after three years of their relationship. She met Michael, Ryan Choi’s apprentice at Ivy University, when she needed an upgrade on her suit and they just clicked. They crossed each other’s paths again and again until Michael had the courage to ask her out for coffee. And as secretive as she was, Michael still figured out that she was the speedster hero Sparks.

They married two years after buying the penthouse and had their son, Donatello 'Don' months after their wedding.

Her true home was being with them.

***

Central City, 2018.

Etta studied the buildings from the balcony of the lounge, admiring the night skies and listened to the cool winds against her ear. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a device that’s the size of her thumb and clicks on it. A small holopic of her husband holding their son in his arms appeared.

She smiles at it and reaches out to stroke the image of her son’s cheek. It glitched by the touch but she ignored it as she imagined her son’s touch when she held him in her arms. Her husband would be there holding them together as he had many times.

“They're beautiful.”

Etta turns as she closes the holopic and sees her dad changed into his normal attire.

“Hi.” She waves lamely.

“Hi.” He rasped, feeling nervous by the second as he steps closer to her. It was still strange to see her standing, looking like Y/N would’ve been if she was still with him, alive.

His staring was similar to the ones she received all her life whenever she first met someone who knew her mother. The same stare of awe and grief.

“Will you stop looking at me like that.” She says with a deadpan expression.

He tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like I’m gonna disappear.“

Barry looks down at his shoes and up to her again. “I’m sorry, it’s just. . . I always envisioned what you’ll look like, all grown up. I mean, you were born with her eyes and hair.” He shakes his head lightly and walks up to her while looking down at her with tears beginning to form in his eyes as he smiled. “You look so much like your mother.”

Etta looked up at him awkwardly and shifted in her spot. “You know, sometimes, I get tired of hearing it.” Her voice wavers a bit. “Getting compared to my mom.”

Barry nods in understanding.

She crossed her arms. “But weirdly hearing it from you. . . it’s different.”

Barry smiled more brightly. “Is that a good thing?”

She nods and steps back to rub her arms. They walked to the edge of the balcony and leaned on the bars with elbows.

“So, who are they?” Barry couldn’t help but ask.

“I’d rather not answer.” She wanted to avoid it. “Timeline thing, you know.”

“But-”

“Look, I really don’t want to sound mean,” Even if she is. “But I’m only here to see how Nora’s doing. That’s it.”

He stayed silent for a while, looking at her like a sad puppy. But respects her decision either way. “Okay. How long will you be staying?”

“A day.” She answers.“I still have duties to attend in the future.”

“What duties?”

She didn’t say, only placing a finger on her lips mischiefly and walked back into the lounge. “Night dad. Kiss baby Etta goodnight for me.”

Barry watches her leave the lounge. Fighting the urge to follow her, wanting to spend more time with her. But he has a feeling that she wants to either be alone or go back to Nora.

***

Central City, 2049.

“Who else knows?” Nora asks angrily at her mother.

“Everyone.” Iris whispers.

“Everybody?” Her daughter quietly. “Everyone that I love has been keeping this from me? Why?”

“Because I told them to.” Iris tries to reason with her.“Nora, I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From this city. From meta-humans. From. . . From. . . Yourself.”

Nora scoffs and looks away from her. Unbearing to look at her right now. “Wow.”

“Nora, you don’t understand.”

“No. I don’t understand. How did I get my powers? What do you have against speedsters, against Spar-”

And then her mouth opens with the smallest of realisation in her eyes. “Etta?”

Iris closes her eyes again.

“That’s why she’s alwaysdisappeared away. She’s Sparks isn’t she?”

“Nora-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Nora snaps.

“Nora, I have already lost so much. I can’t risk losing you too.”

Nora shakes her head and shrugs. “Well. . .you just did.”

And she disappears. Leaving Iris to her sadness, but she didn’t have any regets of protecting her daughter.

Nora ran through all of Central City to go to her sister, but what she found at her home was a nightmare.

CCPD was there along with an ambulance. Nora feared the worst and ran at a normal pace to the scene. She showed her badge and was about to head into the building until two paramedics rolled a stretcher. Her breath caught her throat when she saw the person on it.

“Etta? Etta!” She cries and runs up to the paramedics.

“Are you family?” One of the paramedics asked.

“She’s my sister. What happened?” She asked and gasped when she saw a pool of blood wetting the blouse on her sister. They lifted her into the ambulance and stepped inside as they answered her question.

“Multiple stab wounds and a head concussion. Get in.”

Nora didn’t need to be told twice and immediately went into the vehicle. She sat beside the paramedics and reached out to hold her big sister’s hand.

“Etta please, don’t leave me. Please.” She cries. “There’s so much I need to know. Please.”

After they got to the hospital and rushed Etta to the OR, Nora paced around the waiting room.

Soon, when she was on her third cup of coffee. Loud footsteps were heard from the corridor and a strong yet familiar voice was called out.

“Henrietta Henrietta Allen-Jude. Where is she, is she okay?”

“Any relations?”

“I’m her husband, now tell me where she is!”

Nora stood up from her chair. “Michael?”

Michael turned and saw her. “Nora! What happened, is she okay?”

Nora shakes her head. “I don’t know." And she breaks down into a crying fit which leads Michael to catch her in a hug.

Luckily, Etta recovered from the attack, but the surgeon doesn't know when she’ll wake up. That left Nora into a deep spiral of sadness. Once again, she felt alone. So to take her mind off her sister’s condition, she decided to spend her time trying to catch Godspeed and continues to meet with the only speedster she knows, Eobard Thawne.

After finally catching Godspeed, who was identified as August Heart, Nora began her training as the ‘Fastest Woman Alive’ which she shouldn’t use that title since her sister held it first. Thawne taught her how to become a proper speedster despite knowing that he was her father’s archnemesis. But what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t wait on Etta forever and she needed to find a way to use her powers to become a hero. A choice that was taken from her mother.

Then, one faithful day, Etta finally wakes up.

Etta opened her eyes and blinks rapidly to adjust the bright lights above her. She looks around her surroundings and deducts that she was in a hospital. She turns when she felt a heavy weight on her lap and sees her husband sleeping peacefully there, laying his head on his arms as a pillow.

Not stopping the smile that was forming slowly on her face, she lifts her hand and rests it on Michael's head, stroking his hair.

Micheal stirs then opens his eyes. He looks up and suddenly stood straight. “Etta,” He whispers. “Thank god.”

He leans over to press a long kiss on her forehead, grabbing her hand and held it tight, not ever wanting to let go.

She laughs quietly at his love, savouring the moment. “Someone misses me.” She jokes.

Micheal pulls away and began planting small kisses on her face. Once he was done he wipes the hair away from her face and places his forehead against hers. “You have no idea how happy I am to see your eyes open, Runner.”

She smiles but then quickly becomes serious. “How bad is it?”

Micheal sighs. “Not bad. Thankfully, your Aunt Caitlin came to see you and everything seems to be fine.”

“Good.”

“Etta!” A voice behind Micheal cries in joy.

Etta looks over and sees that Nora was here as well. Awoke from her sleep on the chair.

“Hey XS.” She says happily as Nora continues to cry under her breath.

“Are you okay? Do you feel any pain?” Nora asks but Etta just waves.

“Nah, I’m good, hungry, but good.” She then sent a look to Michael and he immediately understood.

“I’ll go see the doctor.” He squeezed her hand and gave her one more kiss and swoops out of the room.

“How are you. Really?” Nora held her hand and stroked the back of her hand.

“Fine.” Etta says. “I’m fine. . .” She tried to comfort her but failed miserably as her lips quivered.

“Hey. Hey. What is it?” Nora panicked and manages to hold her calming voice to ease her older sister.

Etta let out a small sob. “I-I. . .”

“Shhhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Nora consoles her. Whatever God Speed did to her, she’ll make sure that he’ll stay in the pit hole. Forever.

The older woman shakes her head. “It’s not. It’s not.” She grips Nora’s hand tightly. “Nora. . .”

Nora then understands. Etta was going to tell her.

Etta takes a deep breath to control her emotions. “Nora there’s something you need to know.”

“Etta-”

“No, Nora, please listen-”

“Etta.” Nora repeated her sister’s name more loudly. Etta stops her babbling and looks up at her.

Nora smiles and petted Etta’s hair. She took a deep breath. “I know.”

Etta shakes her head again. “No, no you don’t. Listen to me-”

“Etta.” Nora cries too. “I know.”

Etta’s breath shakes. A sudden wave of relief rushes through her body and she closes her eyes.

“I wanted to tell you. For so long.” She sniffs. “But Iris. . . she wouldn't let me.”

“Why?” Nora rasped. “You are Sparks. “ She whispered. “You’re Central City’s Heroine. You’re part of the Justice League. What power does mom have over you?”

The speedster sniffs. “She’s a mother. Something that we both have in common.”

“Hey. There’s something you need to know.”

Etta watches as Nora lifts her hand and vibrates it to a familiar speed. She gasps.

“You’re. . .”

“Guess I’m a late bloomer.” Nora says and they both burst into quiet laughs. “There’s a lot you need to catch up on.”

She sniffs again and grabs her sister’s hands with excitement. “Tell me.”

#barry allen #iris west #joe west #barry allen imagine #flash imagine #cisco ramon #dc #arrowverse #caitlin snow #ralph dibny #barry allen x reader imagine #y/n #dcdomics #central city #nora allen

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rosyfingereddawnn · 4 years ago

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heart of gold (chapter three)

pairing: robert plant x florence bennett (oc)

warnings: domestic abuse (god sorry), jimmy bein’ a simp :)

words: 3.4k

summary: trapped in a loveless marriage to a powerful man, florence bennett lives every day in despair. after a chance encounter with a golden-haired actor, florence finds that her life will never be the same again.

author’s note: new oc alert!! this character was based off a little friend of mine... who’s helped me like. immensely. babe ily. also god this one hurt to write i'm sorry guys. hope you enjoy :)

chapters: 1 | 2

masterlist

playlist

------

The waning light of the late afternoon sun filters in through the grand windows, stained glass painting the room a myriad of colours. Polished maple shelves line the walls, packed to the brim with dusty tomes. Comfortable armchairs sit around a side table, the gilded siding gleaming. On its surface sits a dainty teacup, still steaming.

Florence strides through the aisles of the library, trailing a finger along the worn spines. The lady of the house divides her time most often between the beautiful music room and the library, as Allen leaves her to her devices, most of the day. Running a city, he always says, takes a lot of work, dear. She’s not complaining at all, if it puts her at a difference from the barbarian she is lucky enough to call a husband.

Stopping, finally, she pulls a book from the shelf, running her fingers across the letters decorating the cover, fingers catching lightly on the grooves. ‘Wuthering Heights’, the cover reads, and Florence nods, content with her choice. Drifting across the room, she settles comfortably into the plush chairs, reaching a hand out to grasp the handle of the teacup beside her. Soft spice settles over her tongue, and her chest fills with warmth, the steaming beverage warding away the slight chill in the room. Cracking open the cover, her eyes drift over the slightly yellowed pages of the novel.

“I have just returned from a visit to my landlord—the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society…”

The woman recites the words on the page, voice drifting high into the rafters as it flutters past her lips. Florence has always enjoyed reading aloud, as it made her feel as though she was not alone. That someone hears her, and cares to listen to the words that flow from her mouth. Allen hated it, in the beginning. When he had given her the time of day, and cared for her. Promises of forever tumbled from his lips then, instead of the insults and hurt that dripped, like a slow poison, from them now.

Shaking her head clear of those thoughts, she continues. An hour passes, then another, and Florence loses herself in the narrative. These characters, brutal and flawed, intrigued her. They enchanted her, and she was unable to put it down.

Until a set of heavy footsteps, thunderous against the polished floors, near the door to the library. She knows exactly who it is, spending as much time as she had training herself to recognize his gait. Shutting her novel with a loud snap, she looks around the room. Everything is in its place; the room is pristine, as always. Smoothing down her dress, a bright yellow with lace at the hem, she waits for the inevitable. The click of the door opening rings through the suffocating silence of the room, and Allen strolls in, perfect image maintained by his coiffed hair and expensive pinstripe suit.

“Florence, my dear. I knew I might find you here.”

“Allen, is there something wrong?” Florence replies, the hands that rest on her lap subtly trembling as she gazes at her husband. He seems to be in a good mood today. Florence only hopes it can stay that way.

“We will be putting on a ball in the coming weeks, to celebrate my proficiency as mayor. Now,” Allen slips closer to his wife, and brings a hand to her chin. Holding her in place, he presses closer, looking directly into her hazel eyes. “I hope I won’t need to reiterate this. Please do try and behave.”

“O-of course, Allen, I will—”

“We wouldn’t want a repeat performance of recent festivities, would we?”

His words make Florence’s blood boil. She sees the world in shades of angry red, and clenches her fists as tight as she can, hiding them from Allen’s view. Her knuckles are painted white with the strain of keeping her composure. A few weeks have passed since Allen rained pain and devastation upon his household, but the wounds both mental and physical are not so easily hidden, swept aside.

Pasting on an agreeable smile, cheeks straining with the effort, she nods her head. Florence knows that if she plays by his rules, she’ll remain unharmed. He’ll finally leave her alone.

“I will be on my best behaviour. Please, do not worry, dear.”

Allen tilts her head up further, to stare right into her eyes. Florence would love nothing more than to deal him the pain that he had dealt to her. To John, and to James. Instead, she raises her hand, laying it across Allen’s, as she gazes earnestly back. Touching him feels horrifyingly wrong, and it's as though fire laps at her palm.

“You will need a gown, no doubt.”

“I was planning to go into town with Ms. Weston. You remember, she—”

“I do not care who accompanies you. I care, darling, that you do not embarrass me,” The man smiles at her, sharp canines glinting dangerously in the fading sunlight, and he presses his lips to her cheek. His scent, sharp and cloying, nauseates her. Allen stands up to his full height, which, admittedly, was not much, and moves for the door. Turning back to look at her once more, he takes her in almost hungrily. “I wonder, Florence, if you still look as lovely unclothed as you do in this dress. Perhaps tonight, we may find out?”

With a sneer and a chuckle, he walks out the door, closing it behind him.

Florence’s hands unclench, finally, as subtle pain rips through her palms. Gazing down at the skin of her hand, she sees deep pink crescents. One of them is streaked lightly with blood. She had broken the skin, it seems.

Trembling hands retrieve the book from the table it had been left on, and Florence opens the cover once more. Eyes drifting down to read, she can’t seem to make sense of the words, anymore. Florence is shaken, and she knows that it is precisely what Allen wants.

It is but a game for him; a battle of control. He’s winning.

---------

“You mean to tell me that he… Oh, Florence…”

The chime of nails against delicate china rings through the luxuriously decorated sitting room, as Florence passes a teacup, the steam wafting from the top following the scent of rich spices, to the woman sitting on the plush divan. Her dress, a pastel lavender, meets the floor in a stream of tulle. Dark tresses, pulled back in a small, loose braid, curl as they fall across her shoulders.

“Emma, I have no idea what to do.”

Emma Weston had known Florence longer than she could remember. They had met when they were young, and since then, they’ve been almost inseparable. That is, until Allen came along. Slowly, almost inch by inch, he had pushed Emma out of the picture, further isolating his wife. The women seemed to meet less and less over the years, now coming together a few times a month. Emma was unmarried, and rather educated, which almost seemed to scare the man. A favourite quote of his pops into Florence’s head, then: “Educated women, well, they’ll bring the downfall of humanity.” To the women, of course, it served as a nice bit of comedy.

“My dear friend, I… Is there anything I can do?” Emma lays a hand on Florence’s shoulder, earnest eyes locked on those of her friend. Florence meets her gaze then, and the glassy hazel eyes unnerve the woman. They look defeated. “Florence, we will fix this, somehow.”

“If that is possible…”

Emma shakes her head, eyes blazing with a incendiary anger she must keep hidden from the woman sitting next to her. Florence, naive as she might have been upon entering the relationship, has done nothing to warrant this treatment, this violence. Every mention of the horrors; the atrocities, that have been committed in this house makes the woman’s blood burn in her veins. Emma settles her hand over Florence’s, rubbing calming circles into it. She knows how the other woman ticks, after the years they’ve spent together, and she can see the slight tremors that pass through her. She’s scared. Why wouldn't she be, with a husband like that, Emma thinks.

“Florence,” The sentence almost tumbles out, but she catches herself. Florence has always disliked pity, felt that it was counterproductive and useless. It does nothing to help the situation, so there is no need for it. Emma changes the subject swiftly, a bright smile tilting up the corner of her painted lips. “What else have I missed? Surely you’ve gotten up to much, with your lovely husband gone so often.”

A moment of unusual silence passes, as a blush darkens Florence’s cheeks, pink shades dancing with the freckles that linger on her skin. “Well,” Florence starts, hands fidgeting in her lap as she looks anywhere but at her friend. With a fortifying sigh, she releases the words trapped in her throat. “I’ve… I’ve been writing to a man. An actor, from the theatre we frequent.”

“Oh? How long have the two of you been corresponding? Do tell me more!”

“A month, as of next weekend—”

“A month? Florence, it’s been a whole month, and you didn’t think it right to tell me? I thought we were friends… ”

“Emma,” Florence starts, scrambling to reassure her friend, until she glimpses the smirk that dangles from her lips. A relieved sigh fills the silence that had fallen over the two, and Emma’s giggle lights up the room. “You were joking…”

“Of course I was! Now, tell me more about this mysterious actor. What do you know of him?”

“Well, I do not know his name, unfortunately. This… this is my fault. If he knew who I was; if he knew Allen, he would never give me the time of day. Emma, he is beautiful, of mind, body, and soul.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was his appearance, initially, that attracted me. He was simply irresistible,” Florence’s cheeks flush deep scarlet, as an unconscious smile blossoms across her cheeks. Her hands slash through the air as she recounts her first sighting of the elusive actor. “…James and John, thankfully, had the mind to encourage me to contact him. Emma, he is poetic and charming, yet he isn't haughty in the slightest, like some who share these traits. He’s always been perfectly kind, and charisma drips from every pore. Every letter I receive from him… Goodness, Emma, it has the same effect on me that his performance had.”

“Perhaps you should invite him to the ball.”

It was a simple statement, yet those 8 words ring like sirens in Florence’s head. Her blush deepens, and she stammers out a response, nervous hands smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles on her gown. With a deep breath, she recovers, and locks eyes with Emma, who hides a smile behind a dainty hand.

“Have you gone completely mad?”

“Think about it,” Emma starts, revealing the amused smile that she had tried to hide. Taking in the way Florence’s mouth hangs open in shock, her eyes wider than saucers, Emma continues, a giggle fluttering in the air of the expensive room. “You could slip away from the other patrons, somewhere Allen would never find you, and meet the man that stole your heart.”

Florence remains frozen, as though she were a component of a still-life painting. Her blush-pink lips form an O, and her eyebrows creep close to her hairline. Her hands, the only thing in motion, are a flurry of movement as she fidgets under Emma’s watchful gaze.

“Florence, honestly, is it truly that preposterous of an idea?”

“O-of course it is! Emma,” The woman of the house shakes her head emphatically, mind racing to come up with the perfect excuse as to why this idea, although tempting, was utterly absurd. “Look, if Allen ever… I could never subject this… this angel to that.”

“If you think it’s best not to, then I will stand with you. This is, of course, common knowledge. What I will never do, however, is sit idly by and watch you throw away your happiness, again.”

Silence sits heavy over the two women, the only sound being the light slurping of tea gone cold. Emma, chancing a glance over at her long-time friend, takes in the quiver and shake of her hand. Florence sets the fragile china cup, painted a pale sky blue, on the wooden surface of the table that rests in front of them, and relaxes back into the comfortable settee.

“Is… Is James able to attend? The ball, I mean.” The relative quiet is broken by Emma, voice faltering as she curls into herself. For as long as Florence could remember, Emma has only had eyes for James. Whenever she came to the manor, her eyes would roam the chiseled marble hallways for even a short glimpse of him, and a deep blush seemed to dust her cheeks whenever he was in the room.

“I believe he and John are working that particular night, although… perhaps you could steal him away for some time alone?”

“Florence!”

The peals of laughter that fill the room muffle the hurried footsteps fast approaching, a choked gasp and the sound of falling papers finally making the two women look up. James stands by the door, shoulders hunched as he locks eyes with Emma across the room. A collection of envelopes litter the floor, and James, scrambling to his knees with a squeak, rushes to retrieve them.

A wordless glance passes between the two friends, and Florence nods, a subtle smile lighting up her face. Emma stands, flattening down her dress with clammy hands, walks up to the man, and he looks up at her under his eyelashes, hands stilled by her appearance.

“E-Emma! H-hello, I…”

“James, your face… are you alright?”

The man nods emphatically, almost thrumming with nerves as he replies, “it was nothing, Emma. You need not worry for me.”

Her hand, palm up, rests upon his cheek as she takes in the bruising, subtle now after the days that have passed, that mottles his pale skin. Florence can almost hear the rapid beating of his heart as he gazes up at her from his position on the floor.

“I can't help my worry for you, James,” Clearing her throat awkwardly, Emma shifts her gaze to the tiled floor, her eyes widening when she glances at the stationary strewn across the ground.“May I… or rather… Do you need help?”

The servant gulps audibly, and nods, cheeks an angry scarlet to compliment the fading tones of purple. The woman kneels next to him, and retrieves the fallen letters. Glancing at it briefly, her eyes light up excitedly, as she gazes at James.

“Are these invitations for the ball?”

“They are. I was to go around the town handing them out, just now.”

Two hands brush as they reach for the last envelope, and pull back, as if electricity had struck them upon contact. Florence hides a beaming smile beneath her hand as she watches her friends. They simply cannot look away from each other. James coughs, breaking the tension that had settled over the two, and they scramble back, each holding a portion of the letters. Two piles become one, and Emma steps back, the hand rubbing at her arm betraying the picture of calm she was trying to emulate.

“M-Miss Weston, always a pleasure. How are you?”

“I-I am well, James. And you?”

“Very well. May I say, you look… lovely.” The conversation peters out as their gazes flit to the ground, and Florence, from her perch behind them, can’t help but giggle. The sound propels the servant into action, and he thrusts an envelope into Emma’s hand, backing away as if he was burned by the feel of her hand on his.

“I was supposed to stop at your residence, but since you are already here…”

With that, he turns tail and rushes out of the room, leaving Emma standing, slack-jawed. Slowly, she turns around to meet Florence’s eyes, and the disbelief present on her face is almost comical.

“Perhaps you will be the one to slip away for a moonlit dance in the end, Emma.”

With well wishes, and an earnest promise to find dresses for the ball, Emma departs, stepping into her own carriage. The flush on her cheeks was still visible.

---------

“Of all the times to run out… Just my luck.”

Soft footsteps spatter like rain across the staircase, as Florence mutters to herself. Dashing into her bedroom, she searches every nook and cranny, pulling back with a grunt dripping with frustration. The supply that had sat on the desk against the wall was usurped, and there were no traces of any sheets in the rest of the mansion’s many rooms. Except for one.

Rushing across the hall, Florence stops in front of a pinewood door, intricately carved as most things within the manor happen to be.

Allen’s study, as she’s been told time and time again, was never to be entered, by anyone except the man himself. It’s rarely ever locked, though his intimidation serves as enough of a barrier from entering, until today.

All she needs is paper, after all. About to pen yet another letter to her nameless angel, she lacked the most important element: the paper itself. Where better to find a much-needed slip, than in a study, Florence thinks as she turns the gold-gilded knob. She opens the door only to be greeted with beautiful, wide windows of stained glass, which turn the sunlight into vibrant shades of red and green. Against the wall, a bookshelf stands tall, books of every genre imaginable lining it. Against the far wall, a well-polished mahogany desk, complete with winding embellishments around the edge, sits before an elegant leather armchair.

No paper in sight, of course.

A sigh reverberates off of the maroon walls, as Florence pulls open a drawer, careful to leave things as proper as possible so as to not alert Allen. Shuffling through the first, she finds a variety of legal forms and journals, and her frustration simmers inside of her. Moving on to the second drawer, she tugs on the wood-furnished handle, and her heart shatters.

Sitting prim and proper, face up in the drawer, was a letter addressed to Allen. In a curling script that, distinctly, was not hers, reads: “To my beloved, Allen.” This one note, this blasted letter, lays on a bed of dozens of others, all addressed in the same way, in the same sprawling hand. Florence can feel streams of crystalline tears trickle down the flaming apple of her cheeks, and a violent scream catches in her throat. Her insides burn in rage, in fury, in betrayal, and if not for her grip on the desk, she would have crumpled to the floor. There were no dates printed upon the envelopes, though, judging by the sheer amount, it is safe to say that this had been going on for quite a while. Long before she had laid eyes upon her actor.

Under the pile of deceitful notes, almost mocking her, sat the coveted paper. Ripping it out of the drawer, Florence turns, eyes sweeping the room for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing perfection, she tears out of the room, crossing the hall into her chambers. She sits herself down, defeated, on the chair adjacent to the small desk. Her head falls forward into her palms, resting there until, suddenly, she slams a hand down onto the lacquered tabletop.

Allen Bennett has stolen her livelihood. He has stolen her happiness; stolen everything that he saw worth taking. Greed seeps from every pore, and there are no consequences. Allen Bennett is a foul, demonic man, and Florence must play the role of the angel. The perfect wife. She must act as Allen’s toy, only of use to him when he needs a night of pleasure.

Curling her hands into rigid fists, the woman nods resolutely, and lunges across the desk. Trusty fountain pen in a clenched hand, Florence seizes the newfound sheets, and soon enough, a river of ink flows across the page. Teardrops that trickle down the slope of her nose serve as the signature.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso @jonesyjonesyjonesy @jimmypages @kyunisixx @sophiazeppelinchick @reincarnated70sbaby @grxtsch @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @thebeatlesuniverse @dreamersdrowse (let me know if you want to be added!)

#robert plant #led zeppelin #robert plant fanfic #robert plant x oc #led zeppelin fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #classic rock fanfic

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this-is-my-brutality · 3 years ago

Photo

You Are Not Alone.

One never realizes how much they truly miss someone when something happens, good or bad. And the only person they would want to tell is the one person that was no longer there. Alex Danvers was a loving and protective older sister. She was a beloved daughter. A friend. She was Kara’s whole world. Someone Kara looked up to even as Supergirl.

Yet, at this very moment - Alex was missing. The one person Kara needed in her life was gone.

Her arms pushed forward, using as much energy as she could. The wind whipping through her hair. Determined to figure out the truth. She had no clue how this happened or why, but Kara needed answers. Flying across Central City in a hurry, the only thing on her mind was her sister. She needed to find whoever took her sister before any more harm was done. Even though Alex was only human, she was one hell of a fighter. Alex had to hang on a little bit longer. She just had to.

Discreetly, Kara landed on her feet, fixing herself before quickly running into the building that housed Central City’s Police Department. With her CatCo ID badge, she quickly made her way through the building and to the only person she trusted within the CCPD. Detective Joe West. The man that treated Barry like his own son. The man who Barry swore Kara could trust if anything went wrong and he was unavailable.

Oh, how Kara wished she had her superfriend right now.

Everything was a blur. Kara was standing in a room with Joe as he spoke about the whereabouts of Alex. The last camera footage they had on her. What she was wearing. The reason she was in Central City. Everything swirled in her mind. The blonde reporter brought her slender digits up to the bridge of her nose, pinching it ever so lightly. Everything he was saying was too much. Kara could not live a life where her sister was not in it. She did not want to. Even superheroes have their weaknesses. Kryptonite may have been Supergirl's weakness, but losing her family was Kara’s weakness.

“Kara.. I know this is a lot to take in..” Joe’s voice was soothing. Almost like Jeremiah’s. Unfortunately, Jeremiah was lost and gone. Left for dead. But Joe was here. The one man Barry trusted more than anything. The one man she had gotten to know because of the West-Allen family. Someone who reminded her a lot like J’onn.

A friend. A mentor. A father figure.

Heavy tears formed in the blonde's eyes. Blurring her vision. The shake of her head was all she could muster. This was not supposed to be her life. She did not ask for this. Or did she? So much has changed. Kara was supposed to be a reporter at CatCo. And here she was, thrown into a whirlwind of lies, destruction, and utter agony. Kara had a love-hate relationship with karma. Ever since revealing herself to the National City, there had been nothing but havoc.

“I used to want to save the world…” Her voice was soft, quiet, and broken. Staring off into the distance. “To make a difference. To end the simplest of wars and bring peace to mankind..” Kara was hesitant. Her head shook as she took off her glasses. The one disguise that she had. Joe’s eyes went from her, to the paper in front of him. The click of the pen was all that was heard before he placed the pen down on the table. Simply listening to her. Pain and guilt filled the female, “I even glimpsed into the darkness that lives within the light… but only through the eyes of Cat Grant… How am I-?” Her breath was caught in her throat.

Kara was filled with self doubt. She had no idea how much pain both cities had endured since her arrival. Was it truly her fault? Did she truly cause devastation across National City? Did she truly become lost within herself? How could she possibly right the wrongs she had done? How could she save her own sister, especially in a city that was so foreign to her?

“Joe...” Green-blue optics moved to him; finally breaking. “I don't even know who took her… in- in Central City - a place for the Flash.. Not.. Supergirl..” Speechless and truly in shambles, Kara continued. “How am I supposed to continue being this hero.. When I do not even know if I am doing anything right to help my own sister?”

Joe’s eyes met hers. Finally, he stood, walking over to her. A small smile was planted on his face. At times like these, he learned to be the strong one. He had to hold it together so that those before him did not crumble beneath his feet. Kara was a lot like Barry and he admired her for that. No wonder they called each other superfriends. “The hardest thing you are going to face is not some monster out there with powers. It is going to be that feeling of uselessness when you cannot do anything alone…” He spoke, “You are not alone in this fight, Kara Danvers. You have me. You have Barry. You have the team.” A firm, but gentle hand was placed upon her shoulder.

“We will find your sister. We will bring Alex home. And that is one thing I can promise.”

#supergirl #karadanvers #joewest #theflash #drabble #cw #comfort character #melissa benoist #jesse l martin #credit if you use #hero #theparagonofhope

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randomfandomimagine · 4 years ago

Text

Love’s Worth Running To. Chapter 2: Catch Up

Pairing: Barry Allen x Stephanie Williams (OC)

Fandom: Justice League / DCEU

⬅ PREVIOUS CHAPTER • CHAPTER INDEX • NEXT CHAPTER ➡

AO3

A/N: A few disclaimers about the series. One: this is a first draft and some little things may change, and also forgive any typos as I will be editing the series more during the second draft. Secondly, I’m not a hardcore DC fan so I might get some things about the characters wrong, bear with me with that.

Anyway, here’s chapter two, I hope you like it! Things are starting to really set into motion and after this chapter they get a little crazy, even more so than at the end of this one.

Remember to give this some love, please reblog and leave feedback! It would make my week! 🙏💜

His feet rhythmically drag along the ground, shuffling as he sways and snaps his fingers. The music loudly plays in his earphones, drowning out the sound of the elevator as it comes to a halt. He can’t hear the soft murmur of voices as the Justice League chats in the Batcave, reunited there one more day. The dark room feels brighter as he walks further into it and the team comes into his field of vision.

“Clap along if you feel…” Barry nods his head along to the song and points to Victor. “Like happiness is the truth”

Victor stares at him, frowning in confusion. He makes to lift his hands and clap, but ultimately doesn’t. He only glances at Diana, who chuckles at Barry’s good mood.

Bruce calmly makes a gesture, asking for Barry to remove his earphones. When he does, letting them fall and hang off his shirt’s neckline, he grins.

“Good morning!” He cheerfully says, but the group doesn’t reply. “What?”

After a brief pause and a few glances, it is Bruce who speaks up.

“Who’s the girl?”

“What girl?”

“You’re singing...” Arthur eyes the boy. “And dancing”

“So? Can’t I just be happy in this beautiful day?”

“There’s definitely a girl” His friend insists. “Spit it out”

Barry pouts and looks at each of them. The way they fondly stare at him fluster him a little, but he doesn’t really mind talking about her. In fact, it feels like a good thing to share his excitement with his friends.

“Her name’s Steph” Barry sighs with a dreamy sigh, but hurriedly corrects himself when he sees their even fonder expressions. “I-It’s nothing like that, though”

“What is it like then?” Diana asks, grinning in amusement.

“We’re old friends, but we haven’t seen each other in… like… more than ten years” Barry takes deep breath, overwhelmed by that rush again as he remembers the moment he spotted Stephanie Williams. “It was so cool to see her again”

“Why did you grow apart?” Clark wonders, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did your lives go different ways?”

“Not exactly…” Barry suddenly grows bleak, overcome with frantic memories.

That dreadful day in which all happened and he never saw her again. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, and all the things left unsaid still burn intensely inside him. Knowing that is all part of the past now and he will se her soon, he forces to forget about it.

Knowing the other noticed his brief change of demeanor, he claps his hands and changes the subject.

“But anyway! What are we doing today? Anything new?”

“Maybe” Bruce responds, even if he sends a quick look at the rest with the corner of his eye. “There have been some strange things happening around”

“Like what?”

“Glitches and minor crimes” Victor projects an image on the air, of a map of the surveilled cities with some red spots on them that mark the occurrences. “They’re all over the cities”

“Something bad?” Barry frowns, his eyes scanning the map.

“Nothing big, but we want to keep an eye out” Clark nods. “Just in case”

“Should we check it out?” The boy asks him, earning another nod from him.

“It won’t hurt” Bruce adds to, tapping the table in anticipation.

“Let’s suit up then” Barry speeds off, always bearing Stephanie in mind despite it all.

And so the Justice League prepares to exit the Batcave on a small routine mission.

When she looks at the clock, it’s already past 3pm. Stephanie clicks her tongue in mild annoyance and rushes to gather her things. She doesn’t want to be late.

“Bye, Ben!” Stephanie is almost at the door when he replies.

“Where are you going?” Ben does a double take, not believing his eyes when he looks at the clock. “You’re not staying late?”

“Do I…?” She mutters hesitantly. “Do I have to?”

“No, no” He fondly chuckles. “It’s just odd, do you have anything else to do?”

“Actually…” Stephanie can’t help but to grin, even if eager butterflies release in her stomach once more. To hide her thrill, she looks down and plays with her hands. “I’m meeting an old friend and… I’m honestly really excited to see him again”

“Oh, that explains it” Ben warmly grins. “Well, have fun!”

“Thanks!” Stephanie grins, bearing that wide genuine smile she showed the other day.

As he watches his coworker run off like a child on an adventure, Ben’s smile slowly fades as her previous presence now leaves room for a cold empty absence. A tiny pang of jealousy prickles the back of his neck.

Lazy clouds cover the sun, attempting to shadow its light. They threaten to flood the sky in darkness more and more with each passing second. Still, the day feels brighter than most. At least to Stephanie.

She rhythmically hits her nails against the glass surface of the table. Her eyes are directed to the door one more. Where is he? A heavy weight has settled in her chest. She chews on her fingernails. What if he doesn’t show up?

Soon enough, Barry comes barging in, out of breath and looking disheveled. He’s late, but he’s there. The girl stands up and takes a deep breath of relief.

“Hi�� She greets him, earning an apologetic smile from him.

“I’m so sorry, Steph” He hurries to the table, nervously combing his hair with his fingers. “You wouldn’t believe the day I had”

“It’s okay” Despite his lateness, he notices, she’s smiling. Barry awkwardly chuckles as they both stand there.

Stephanie bites her lip, wondering how to act around him. Time has cooled their once close and nonchalant relationship, but she is determined to warm up to it again. Although they have known each other since they were little, they feel like strangers at the same time. They don’t know the other anymore, but they’re adamant on changing that. Besides, she still feels as comfortable with him as before, like not a day as gone by.

“Well, hi” Barry opens his arms, going on for a hug, just at the same time that Stephanie is leaning close to him in order to greet him with a kiss on the cheek. Noticing this, they awkwardly pull away between embarrassed chuckles. In the end, and after a few more seconds of stuttering and fidgeting, Barry finally holds his hand out. Stephanie smiles and shakes it.

Happily plopping down on the chair, he sighs and stares at her. When she sits down in front of him, her fingers absently trace across the edge of the table that separates them. The tension looms above their heads until he breaks it with his cheerful energy.

“Stephanie Williams” Barry says in awe, fondly tilting his head and peering at her.

“Barry Allen” She reciprocates, smiling as the name of her beloved friend fills her lips.

“So talk to me, Steph, um…” He puckers his lips in a thoughtful gesture. “How’s your day going?”

“Good, it’s good so far…” She nods, not knowing what else to say. “And yours?”

“Great! A bit frantic, but… good” He bites his lips, awkwardly lingering as well. “Good...”

“Tell me!” Barry starts. “What have you been doing? I haven’t since you since...”

“Since we moved to Metropolis...”

“Well, yeah... I never really found out why that happened”

“My parents insisted on leaving Central City” Stephanie gravely nods, averting her eyes. “They said what happened with your mom was affecting me too much”

Barry quiets, watching her with a frown. He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t find the right words to express the extent and variety of his current feelings.

“I’m so sorry…” He drags his hand across the table, reaching out to pat hers as it now rests on the surface of the table. However, and after a second of hesitation, Barry decides not to touch her. “I had no idea…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Barry. You were having a hard time already”

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s okay, I just… I hated seeing you suffer like that”

The two lock gazes, and an unnamed emotion shines in both their eyes. Like a wave has washed out all the deeply buried memories, a weight settles on their shoulders. One that they had been carrying since childhood and they had nearly forgotten about. Now it has returned, just like that. In only a second.

Trying to brush it off, Stephanie smiles. Like the gesture makes him happy, he grins too.

“So how is your dad?” She asks in a friendly tone. Barry’s smile slowly fades, only to be replaced with a melancholic frown. Stephanie is hit with realization. “Oh, so he’s still… I’m so sorry, Barry… I thought…”

It had been years since that terrible thing happened, and knowing of his innocence Stephanie hoped the situation would have changed by now. She’s unfortunately wrong. The girl groans in frustration, mentally scolding herself for not having thought about that possibility before speaking. Barry shakes his head and mindlessly waves his hand in the air. He smiles again, although this time it’s obviously a facade.

“It’s okay” Barry says, but he can’t hide the sad hint to his expression. “I go see him almost every day”

“Is he doing okay?” She cautiously asks, knowing how hard the situation must be for the two of them.

“For the most part, yeah…” His crestfallen look breaks her heart, and so Stephanie wrecks her head to find a more light-headed subject to talk about.

“O-Order” She rushes to say, holding her hand up in the air to catch the waitress attention. “We should order something to drink”

Barry chuckles at her attempt, nodding his head in silent agreement. When the waiter arrives, it’s the girl that speaks for the both of them.

“Um, yeah, hi” She looks up at the blond waiter. “I’ll have a coffee and he’ll have a chocolate milkshake”

“I’m not a child anymore, Steph” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I can order my own chocolate milkshake”

Stephanie laughs out loud, surprised by his retort. Barry fondly grins at her reaction.

Their shared chocolate milkshake has nearly run out. The cream at the top has melted as the liquid reaches the bottom of the container. Their identical pink frosted sprinkled donuts are half eaten, left forgotten in their small plates for the time being.

“Oh, hey!” Barry utters, changing the subject from his criminal justice major. “Did you get your own lab yet?”

Barry lets go of his red and white straw once he’s done sipping while Stephanie absently plays with hers.

“No…” She pouts a little, soon recovering part of her usual spark. “But I’m an intern at STAR Labs”

“That’s great!” He gulps, nearly chocking on the milkshake. “That brings you a step closer!”

“Yeah, I guess… I’m just so impatient to get there”

“You’ll get there” He carelessly waves his hand in the air. “I’ve got no doubts about it”

Stephanie smiles, feeling that once familiar warmth spread through her. There’s that unconditional support he showed her years ago. They haven’t talked in so long, but his unwavering faith on her hasn’t shifted.

A silence establishes after, although the frequency and intensity of them has lessened over the course of the afternoon. She picks up tiny pieces of the donut with her fingers and puts them in her mouth. Barry, meanwhile, absently nibbles on his donut, letting his eyes wander around the quaint establishment, before he boldly pipes up again.

“Are you seeing someone?” Stephanie chokes on the crumbs on her mouth at Barry’s question.

“What?” She coughs, sipping the last of the milkshake to shove the crumbs down.

“Sorry, I…” He chuckles, trying to conceal his amusement. “I was just wondering…”

Stephanie chuckles too, more surprised by the question than offended that he’s so obviously trying not to laugh at her.

“Well?” He says, bearing a playful tone that she had dearly missed. “Answer the question, Steph!”

“Actually… no” She shrugs a little, embarrassed to admit it. “It’s been a bit hard to connect with people”

“How so?” Barry turns serious once more, frowning as he intently listens.

“I don’t know… I’m just trying to pick up where I left off and…”

Stephanie leaves the sentence hanging in the air, but she doesn’t need to complete it. Barry nods. He understands what she means, even in a way that she can’t imagine.

“Well, you’re in luck, miss Williams” He says in a silly voice. “Because I am here to save the day”

“My hero” Stephanie replies, placing a hand on her chest in feigned bewilderment.

They both smile at each other, lingering on their reciprocated gazes. The spark between them has been rekindled, and they can feel it softly beating in their hearts.

It is with great sadness that they must say goodbye. They can’t stay there forever, as much as they’d like to. Still, it’s a bit easier to say farewell knowing they have each other’s numbers now and will meet again soon. They get up from the chairs slowly, putting the moment off as much as they possibly can.

Barry takes the jacket for her, holding it in the air to make it easier for Stephanie to put it on. She smiles, endeared by the chivalrous gesture, and shoves her arms on the sleeves.

“Thank you” Stephanie says as he also holds the door open for her.

The air outside is slightly chilly, and the clouds have darkened in the sky, perhaps announcing a storm. Reeling in the rush that still lingers from the lovely soiree with Barry, Stephanie looks up, unfazed by the gray clouds gathering before the sun. When she peers down again, she catches Barry’s eye.

“Barry” She laughs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You did change” He replies with a frown, although it’s not exactly a sad one.

“How have I changed?”

“I don’t know… there’s something about you”

“Wisdom and maturity?”

“Maybe…” Barry smiles, hiding his actual thoughts. Ever since they were reunited, he has noticed a certain tint of sadness hanging over Stephanie. He doesn’t dwell too much on it, though, because it’s been slowly fading away as the afternoon advances.

“What about you? You’re not so shy anymore”

“Oh, I’m still shy” The shadow that had darkened his expression disappears, replaced with his usual affable expression. “I just hide it better”

“Are you sure you’re not just shy but you’re too embarrassed to admit it?”

“I’m pretty sure” Barry is replying, grinning as he sees her smiling. “I’m...”

He then trails off, never finishing his sentence. Something’s wrong, he can feel it. His eyes are directed to the traffic light not far from them. The lights aren’t changing, stuck on green. On every traffic light. His instinct kicks in before his brain can comprehend what his body is doing.

“Barry, what’s…” Stephanie his cut off by his urgent movement. Before she can wrap her head around what is happening, the entire street has developed in havoc.

Car horns loudly honking hurt her ears, and soon she sees why. Losing a sense of order because of the unexplained glitching of the traffic lights, all vehicles are crashing into each other. Fortunately, an imposing figure is halting their movement before the damage can be too big. A car has impacted close to them, however, and while doing so knocking a street light that heavily falls their direction.

While this developed, Barry has urgently taken hold of her. When she becomes aware of his closeness, Stephanie is pressed against his chest as he protectively moves her out of the way. Her heart is wildly racing as her senses overload.

The both of them are falling to the ground, with Barry losing balance in his desperate need to protect Stephanie. He still manages to turn and break her fall, tightly squeezing her with his arms to be shielded against his chest. His back takes the hit as he heavily falls to the ground with Stephanie safely landing on top of himself. Unaccustomed to the chaos, she is screaming and protecting her head with her arms in a panic, pressing herself against Barry and hiding her face on his shoulder as he still holds on to her.

“Steph!” He immediately calls, keeping one arm locked around her and using his free hand to press it against her cheek, urging her to look at him. “Steph, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She peers up in a daze, somehow finding comfort in his eyes despite it all. Despite the concern in them. Despite the chaos that engulfs their surroundings. In spite of it all, Barry’s still there with her. The thought calms her and she manages to take a deep breath. It helps settle the panicked pants that shook her being.

Stephanie wants to speak up, but she has momentarily lost the ability to speak. All she can do at that moment is catch her breath while she lays there on top of him, arms pressed against his chest as it quickly moves up and down with the same urgency as hers does. Barry’s hands are protectively pressed against the small of her back. Their faces are so close that their noses nearly touch. This closeness brings a flushed blush to their cheeks that can luckily be excused by the frantic situation.

“I-I’m okay” She finally replies, even with a shaky voice. “And you?”

“I’m fine” He absently says, immense relieved even if distracted.

Barry then lies on his side and carefully pushes her off him. The two of them still hold on to each other as they scramble to their feet. As they glance around, they see the disaster that the street has turned into.

A flying figure covers the sun for a split second while the clouds slowly float away in the sky. Stephanie gasps when she looks up and sees him, recognizing the cape and the strong silhouette of the hero that saved the day.

“Superman…” She utters, pointing up and gathering Barry’s attention there too.

“Oh, no” He mumbles under his breath, starting to understand what has happened.

Stephanie is too becoming aware of what happened, although in a different manner. She glances around, seeing the fallen street light that could have crushed them, the numerous cars that have crashed into each other and the traffic lights still stuck on green. How could Barry react so quickly if she barely had the time to notice any of it?

“Barry, what…” Stephanie swallows, trying to put some order into her messy thoughts. “How… Why…”

He isn’t listening to her incoherent babbling. Barry is still looking up, although his gaze is fixed on the roof of a building. A dark figure looms there, and his heart skips a beat in realization. Barry checks his phone, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he reads the screen. He has three missed called and ten texts.

“I gotta go” Barry stumbles over his words, suddenly even more frantic that during their near death experience. “I-I hate to leave like this, but I’m really late, I’m supposed to be somewhere else”

“Y-Yeah” Stephanie tries to recover from the shock and confusion. “Okay…”

“Can you walk home, are you okay?”

“I think so”

“Are you sure”

“Yeah”

“Steph?”

She stares at him, finding her lost concentration when she locks eyes with him. His worry seems to lessen when she manages to finally focus her gaze. Showing him that gesture that warms his heart, Steph nods and reassuringly smiles at him. He heaves a sigh in relief.

“Take care, okay?” He mumbles, in a sudden urgent hug. “I’ll call you soon”

“Okay” Stephanie clings on to him, lingering in the embrace and treasuring it for just a moment longer. As she does, she takes the breath she has needed so badly during those long minutes in which she couldn’t breathe.

When he pulls away, she has to hold back a groan of complaint. Her warmly smiles and waves goodbye at her. She does too. Then, Barry briskly walks away, urgently holding on to his phone.

Stephanie watches him in fascination, her eyes fixed on his back as he distances himself from her. There had been a new look on his face, an expression of mature determination and somber commitment. She had never seen anything like that. Barry has changed, and she doesn’t know in which way exactly. Stephanie is left with thousand of questions buzzing in her brain as she walks home in a daze.

Tag list: @scared-to-be-lonely345 // Ask to be added to be notified when I post for this series!!

#loves worth running to #lwrt #barry allen #barry allen x reader #barry allen x oc #barry allen imagine #ezra miller #justice league #justice league imagine #justice league series #dc #dc series #dc imagine #oc #series #original character

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coyotesongwriting · 6 years ago

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Damned - Ch. 1

Avengers - Bucky Barnes/Reader

Chapter 1 - Baghdad

Story Summary: When your mission goes sideways and you find yourself locked up through a case of mistaken identity, you don’t see how things could get much worse. Until you find you have no way to contact the team or even let them know you’re alive. One disaster after another leaves you facing a series of impossible situations, and your very life hangs in the balance. Will Bucky find you in time or are you Damned?

Series Warnings: Abuse, Torture, Murder, Death, Graphic Descriptions Of Violence, Death Row, Jail, Assault, Threats of Sexual Assault, Abuse of Power, PTSD

Word Count: 3588

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this one! It’s going to be a darker fic, and I can’t promise that there’s going to be a happy ever after for this one. In fact, the ending of this fic is up to you guys! If you want your vote to be counted on whether or not there is a happy ending, go to this post and cast your vote.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Series Masterlist

The best part of being home was waking up pressed against Bucky’s chest. In the mornings after you two were finally reunited after a long mission, you’d wake up facing each other, your face buried in his chest. The two of you would usually stay up late on those nights, unwilling to look away as you memorized the other’s face. Your missions could keep you away for months, and since your assignments left you so deep undercover most of SHIELD didn’t know you existed, the two of you could often go weeks without getting to exchange a phone call or even texts. No matter how long the distance, the two of you always seemed to make it work though and you’d been together for four years now.

The worst times were when you’d return from a long mission only to find Bucky had been sent on his own assignment. Unfortunately, it was beginning to feel like Fury was against the two of you. You’d come back from a two-month mission in Japan to find Bucky was in the middle of an assignment in Peru. By the time he was coming home three weeks later, you already had your orders for your next mission in Baghdad. This next one was going to be a tough mission, you’d be going completely undercover with no one but your partners, Maya and Kevin, to have your back and you’d be out of contact with everyone for the duration of the mission. If things went right, you’d be home in 9 weeks, tops.

Bucky’s soft moan drew you back to the present as he brushed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He was always soft and gentle in the quiet mornings before the day started. The early morning sunlight danced across his face, lighting up his gorgeous eyes. God, he always looked so gorgeous in the morning light, not that he wasn’t always handsome but these moments where it was all softness were your favorite.

You let out a quiet hum as you leaned up, capturing his lips in yours. His warm hand slowly began to run down your side, and you let out a breathless chuckle as he rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his hand rested on your hip, but before things could go much farther your stomach let out a harsh growl.

Bucky had finally come home yesterday and after catching up with the rest of the team, you’d retreated to the room you shared. You’d stayed in your room all night, not leaving for anything - not even to eat dinner and it seemed like your stomach wasn’t a big fan of that decision. He laughed as you groaned in frustration, throwing your head back.

��Come on, Doll. Let’s get some food in you.”

“Bucky” you whined dramatically, “Can’t we stay in bed a little longer?”

“I wish we could, but did you hear your stomach? I don’t want you waking the whole tower.”

You shot him a playful glare, smacking his shoulder as you rolled off of him to lay on your back by him, “It wasn’t that loud, jerk”

“Whatever you say. Now come on. Fury will kill me if I let you leave without eating.”

You threw your arm over your eyes, “Don’t remind me. I can’t believe we don’t even get 24 hours this time.”

“I know. I was going to wait until after breakfast to tell you this but… I told Fury that when you get back from this mission I’m taking a month off and if he doesn’t like it? I don’t care.”

Your eyes lit up and you quickly moved to look at him, “Really?”

He nodded but before he could speak you’d leaned forward, crashing your lips against his. His hand found its way back to your body and your hands tangled in his hair. You never made it to breakfast, or out of the room at all until it was time to leave. In the end, you didn’t even have time to grab something from the kitchen, already running late.

“Really [Y/N]?” Maya laughed, throwing a brown paper bag at you as you stepped onto the Quinjet.

“Do you own a clock [Y/L/N]? We were supposed to be in the air 15 minutes ago.” Maria sighed, quickly finishing the pre-flight checklist and getting the jet into the air.

You were taking the Quinjet over to Ohio, and then you’d take a car down to Houston where you’d fly out from. Bucky had tried to convince Fury to let him fly it back, but Fury had wanted no part in that plan so instead, Maria was tasked with accompanying you two as far as Ohio.

“Sorry, got a bit held up” you smirked, opening the bag Maya had thrown to find a sandwich and chips. Maya knew you so well. You set the bag down for a moment, and curled your hands into the shape of a heart, mouthing ‘I love you’ before you began to dig in.

“Sure you did. Long night?” Maya winked, tossing her mousey brown hair over her shoulder. She’d been talking about chopping it off for a while now, but then Fury had told you about this mission and she’d been forced to wait until after unless she wanted to deal with a wig - her least favorite thing. All she’d talked about lately was finally getting to chop it off and rock a pixie cut.

“And morning.” you chuckled, quickly meeting her high five.

Maya had been your best friend since middle school when you’d both been sent to the same group home, and you’d quickly become joined at the hip. Maya had been abandoned as a newborn and had nothing from her birth family, even her name had been given to her by her caseworker. No home ever come for her and instead, she’d spent years bouncing from foster home to foster home. You’d never known your father, and when your mom died of a drug overdose you’d ended up in the system with her.

Luckily, you’d stayed at the same group home for a few years, and when you were removed from there due to overcrowding, your caseworker had managed to find a foster home who would take you both. As far as the rest of the world was concerned the two of you were sisters, and even the others had quickly learned not to try and argue otherwise.

You’d been there for each other through everything, from your first heartbreaks to when Maya was struggling with her sexuality. She’d eventually come to the conclusion that she was bisexual, and when your foster home tried to say that wasn’t a real thing, well, you’d managed to get kicked out for threatening to beat them up if they didn’t leave her alone. You’d ended up separated for a few months that time until your caseworkers could find a new home who would take both of you. After that, you’d both vowed to never be separated again, and you’d kept true to that.

When you turned 18, you both went off to a local college, working full-time jobs to afford your degrees. You ended up getting your bachelor’s in Criminal Justice, and Maya got a bachelor’s in Computer Science. You’d both decided to minor in Russian. By the time you’d graduated, you were both slightly obsessed with the idea of becoming spies and had enlisted in SHIELD. It hadn’t taken the two of you long to rise through the ranks, and you’d quickly caught Fury’s attention.

He’d begun placing you on harder and more secretive missions until he’d finally made the decision to have you work directly under him. Since neither of you had families, your deaths had been faked and new identities with no connection to SHIELD had been forged. For safety’s sake, you both had codes and fake names for the SHIELD emergency lines so you could get through if you needed help, but they were for extreme emergency use only.

The flight to Ohio passed quickly, you and Maya trading playful barbs about your relationships. She’d started dating this sweet girl at the coffee shop down the road, and for the first time, you’d actually approved of Maya’s relationship. Maya had the unfortunate penchant for picking the worst people, but this girl seemed perfect for her and you couldn’t wait to see where things went next for the two of them. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if they ended up married someday.

When you arrived in Houston, Kevin was waiting for you. Kevin was one of your least favorite people you’d ever met. An arrogant prick was putting it nicely and he always gave you bad vibes whenever he was around, but he was good at his job. Kevin was a professional driver and an amazing translator, one of the best in the business, he had never been in a situation he couldn’t get his way out of. He was fluent in more languages than you’d even heard of, so on this trip, he’d be helping out with any translation or getaways that you required.

~~~~~

“Miss Allen? The car is here.”

You looked up from the book you’d been pretending to read to glance at Maya as she spoke. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun, her hazel eyes scanning the busy hotel lobby. In her long pencil skirt and long-sleeved button-up, she looked every bit the respectable assistant. Of course, her clothing hid the knives that covered her body. She carried a gun or two at all times for safety’s sake, but she much preferred getting hands-on with a blade so she usually carried at least 5 different blades.

“Thank you, Annie” you smiled politely at Maya and ignored the short glare she shot your way, knowing just how much she hated her fake name this time around. There’d been an awful bully in one of the foster homes named Annie, so Maya was pretty displeased when Maria gave her that identity. You’d already been in Baghdad for six weeks, so if everything went as planned today she’d be done with the name in another week or two.

Fury had received information that SHIELD weapons were being sold illegally and had needed someone to investigate, but since SHIELD was involved he had to be very careful who he put on the mission. No one at SHIELD knew you and Maya existed except for Maria Hill and Fury, so you two were the obvious pick.

The two of you walked to the car in silence, it was time to head to your meeting with Mr. Bahar who was selling the weapons. On this mission you were a businesswoman from Canada who ran a small agency responsible for the safety of celebrities abroad, come to buy some weapons and Maya was acting as your personal assistant.

The ride passed quickly, neither of you wanting to speak too freely in front of Kevin. He’d never been outright rude towards either of you, he merely liked to think he was God’s gift to the world and so that made him a miserable conversation partner. Thankfully, it was only a short ride to Mr. Bahar’s home where you hoped the deal would finally be sealed. As soon as he sold you the weapons, you could begin tracing them back to where he was getting them, and then you could just do some clean up before heading home.

Home. You couldn’t wait to have one month with Bucky, no missions, no trips, just the two of you getting to finally be together. This would be the longest time you’d get to spend together in one stretch in almost two years and the thought of it had you wanting to race home now. Hopefully, the mission would continue to go smooth, and you’d be back in his arms within two weeks.

Mr. Bahar was there to greet you as you climbed out of the car in the courtyard of his home. Bahar had signaled for Kevin to stay behind with the vehicle, but you’d quickly explained he was your translator and Mr. Bahar had frowned slightly but had waved him along as well. You and Bahar exchanged polite small talk as he led you through his home.

Bahar’s guards were everywhere, and you quickly began to count, memorizing their faces and stations as you headed in. His house was large, and the office he led you to was very carefully decorated. From the set up of the room and lack of any computer, you immediately knew this office was merely a decoy, not the place where he truly got his work done. Maya took a seat next to you on the couch while Kevin stood behind you, his face unreadable.

The meeting was boring, long ago the standard illegal weapon purchases had become so commonplace you could just about handle them with your eyes closed. Everything went according to plan, a price and delivery location finally agreed on. You slipped a bug into the couch as you headed out of the office. When the time to leave was drawing near, Maya asked if she could use the restroom. When they pointed her down the right hallway, she slipped off to go plant some more bugs throughout the house and find the real office.

The minutes ticked by as you made more small talk with Bahar, regaling him with tales of your favorite soccer games. It had been too long. Maya should have been back by now, and Bahar was beginning to grow suspicious. You could see the wariness in his eyes as he began to study you and Kevin, and you opened your mouth, preparing to offer an excuse for her absence. Before you could say a word, gunshots rang out through the courtyard. You and Kevin dove to take shelter in an alcove on the side of the home.

Bahar’s guards shoved him towards their SUV, but before they made it even a few feet they were gunned down, collapsing onto the sand at his feet. Bahar turned to you, his eyes wild with panic as he began to race towards you. He didn’t even take two steps before another shot echoed and the back of his head seemed to explode. He fell, his vacant eyes staring up at you as blood seeped out the gunshot in his forehead.

“We need to get Maya” you growled to Kevin, drawing your favorite pistol from its holster.

Kevin didn’t say a word, merely nodding his head as you lead the way carefully towards the side door a few feet to your left. Your heart pounded as adrenaline coursed through your veins, you couldn’t see the shooters on the roof, they were on the building directly above you and you could only pray they didn’t see you. The stars seemed to be on your side as you both managed to slip through the door before the sand exploded behind you with a missed shot.

The hallway you’d slipped into was thankfully deserted, and you nodded your head towards the archway on the left. Kevin didn’t argue, merely nodded his head and pulled his gun, heading off on his own as you headed right. He may be an ass, but he was good at his job and he would do everything in his power to find Maya, of that you could at least be certain.

You slipped down hall after hall, rounding corners quickly. The building was deadly silent, the quiet only broken by the occasional crack of a gunshot and you found yourself praying that it wasn’t your team getting shot. Your ears strained, searching for any sounds, a whimper of pain or the slow thud of footsteps to give you any clue as to what was going on.

The creak of a door to your left gave you just enough to move before the vase behind you shattered into a million pieces, the ceramic raining down to the floor with a loud clatter. You whirled to face your attacker, the shot ripping from your gun as you squeezed the trigger. The man didn’t stand a chance, the bullet piercing his eye and he crumpled to the ground.

You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you rounded the corner and came face to face with a heavy wooden door. You pushed the door open and the door fought back, something had fallen against the door and you struggled to get it open enough for you to slip through. You didn’t look at what it was until you were in the room, and once you did you felt the air fly from your lungs as your knees slammed into the cool marble floor.

Time stopped as lifeless hazel eyes stared up at the ceiling and a whimper tore itself from your throat as you studied Maya. You were frozen, unable to move for the longest time as you studied her. She lay in a pool of blood, her pale yellow shirt stained with the vibrant red. You could see the hole in her shirt, directly over her heart and knew that her death had been instant. The stillness that had overcome you was broken, and you set your gun down, scooping Maya’s body up in your arms and clutching her to your chest.

Thoughts began to race through your head, memories of everything you’d been through flying past and the promises you’d yet to fulfill seemed to fill your mind. She’d never get her happily ever after, she’d never get to go to the bar with you again. You’d never stay up late with her talking about love and loss and she’d never help you prank Bucky again. Realizations of everything lost in that one gunshot were all that it took to leave you sobbing, all memories of the warzone outside the door forgotten as you held your dead sister.

Her head lolled back in your grasp and you pulled her tighter to you, not even noticing the red that began to sink into your own clothing. You didn’t notice the door opening, didn’t register the hand on your shoulder until they tried to pull you back away from her. You shrugged out of their grasp, not even looking at them, not caring.

“We need to go. They’re killing everyone they find” Kevin’s voice was soft but determined.

You barely heard him speak. It was like being underwater, his voice muffled and distant. You were too lost in your thoughts, too lost in the memories to care. After everything you’d faced with Maya, with every battle you’d won and fight you’d lost, a mission as simple as this should never have been her downfall. Kevin’s hand squeezed your shoulder, and his repeated calls of your real name finally seemed to pull you out, and you realized for the first time that the low keening you’d been hearing was you.

“[Y/N]. We have to go. Now” Kevin tried to pull you away again.

You shot him a death glare, your voice breaking as you spoke, “No. I’m not, I’m not leaving her.”

“Maya wouldn’t want you to die too,” he growled. Footsteps were drawing near, and you were supposed to be in charge.

He swept your pistol up from the ground and began to pull you away from her body. You fought him, struggling to remain with her, only giving up once he slid your pistol back into your hand. Kevin had locked the door and as the door handle began to jiggle, he pulled you from the room through the window.

You managed to spare one last glance behind at Maya’s body, her head had fallen facing the window when Kevin had pulled you away, and her gaze seemed to be locked onto you. After a long moment, you tore your eyes from hers, wiping the tears from your eyes as Kevin pulled you towards the car. Dust began to rise in the air from the tires as you sped away, leaving Maya lying alone on the floor.

~~Five Days Later~~

“You wanted to see us?” Bucky asked, taking a seat at the conference room table, the last one in like always.

The whole team had gathered, and Fury stood at the head of the table. His face was unreadable as always, but there was an unexpected tension in the room and Bucky began to grow impatient, tapping his fingers methodically on the coffee mug in his hands when Fury didn’t speak right away.

Fury’s voice was steady as he spoke, “Five days ago, [Y/N]’s team went for a meeting with a man suspected of selling SHIELD weapons to anyone with the money. We lost all contact with the team after a shootout.” Bucky sat up ramrod straight, his heart beginning to race as Fury continued, “Unfortunately, we can now confirm that Maya was killed in the fight. We identified her body this morning. Kevin and [Y/N] are missing, and we have been unable to find or contact them. We’re doing our best.”

Silence fell over the room, everyone afraid to be the first to speak. No one wanted to be the one to ask if you were dead if they Fury thought there was even a chance you were still alive. A loud crash broke the silence as the mug in Bucky’s hand shattered, coffee spilling all over the table.

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~~~~

Taglist: @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark@redfoxwritesstuff @brokenthelovely @collinsstanharbour @samsgoddess @imma-new-soul @firefly-in-darkness @wolfiegal98 @brynnloh

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x reader #Fanfic #Marvel The Avengers #Marvel's The Avengers #marvels the avengers #Marvel's Avengers #marvel #Avengers #The Avengers #reader insert

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i-may-have-a-point · 8 years ago

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13x21 “Don’t Stop Me Now” Review

Grey’s Anatomy’s early ratings look like it tied its series low ratings again. None of us are surprised. I am a bit surprised that the show is not listening to its fans who are basically begging for them to stop focusing on Mer/Riggs/Maggie and give us something, anything, for Japril, Jolex, and Omelia. I have accepted the fact that we won’t see any of these ships move until 13x23 or 13x24. I just haven’t accepted why. This is not how to build suspense. Suspense is a cliff hanger that leads into the next episode. Suspense is not making us wait 10-15 episodes for the characters we love to breathe the same air. Are we supposed to believe that this hospital that seems to only have about 10 doctors working in it is now suddenly so huge that none of them are even bumping into each other in the hallway? And not only are they ignoring their best stories, but they are going out of their way to not let the characters even talk about each other by never putting friends in the same scenes, either. It’s incredibly disappointing for a show with this level of talent and such a large fan following to produce such mediocre episodes.

Alex – Justin Chambers is so talented and clearly a fan favorite. When people thought he might go to jail in the mid-season premiere, the ratings skyrocketed. Of course, this is season 13, so he wasn’t even in that episode. He was simply used to promote it and then we got the prison centric instead. I hate to see him used as basically a buffer between all the sister’s drama. He deserves better than that. He mainly only has scenes with Mer at this point, and I think I know why. Because as much as the show made a huge deal about Mer being there for Alex during his legal troubles, for the most part, their friendship is mainly about her and what she needs. And this didn’t start this season. This started way back when the show thought it was funny for Mer to kick Jo out of Alex’s bed. This friendship has always been about what Mer needs in the moment and Alex’s feelings come second. If she truly cared about him, we would see a conversation where Mer asks Alex about Jo. How is he feeling, does he miss her, has he talked to her, etc. Losing Jo was a huge thing for Alex. He wanted to marry her. But instead we get Alex leaning against the wall in the women’s restroom while Mer rehearses her apology to Maggie (all while still sporting a sweater she pulled out of a dusty box in her attic from the 1980s). Alex is propping Mer in all these scenes because putting him in scenes with her allows the writers to continue to ignore the Jolex story. Mer would never ask Alex about Jo because she doesn’t really care.

Maggie – Maggie has been a main focus of four out of the last five episodes (minus the plane episode). I think that Kelly McCreary is probably very talented. We saw some great moments from her in 13x18. However, they are making her character, who was already difficult for many people to like, absolutely unbearable. I understand the idea that she would be upset that Mer lied to her for so long, but that wasn’t the only reason she was mad. “Is he a good kisser?” “Did you join the mile high club?” She was also mad that Mer is with her crush. And that is all he was. A crush. She had more of a relationship with Deluca and she cared for all of five minutes when he broke up with her. To compare those reactions makes her reaction to this seem particularly childish. I would prefer to see them focus on how brilliant she is and let her really show her skills in the OR as a teacher. She doesn’t feel like a badass cardio chief right now. She feels like Mer’s annoying little sister who wants whatever her big sister has. The cardiothoracic department at Grey-Sloan has seen Preston Burke, Cristina Yang, Erica Hahn, Teddy Altman…Maggie is not living up to their reputations. At least by the end of the episode it seems that they might be done with this story. We can only hope.

April/Stephanie/Deluca – Similar to Cross’s TB story, this group and their wormy patient had some of the best scenes of the episode. I thought it was interesting that April, Steph, and Deluca were grouped together again, especially since it doesn’t seem like April is mentoring them (clearly that just doesn’t happen anymore). And then I realized this is the same situation as Alex. April is with Steph because that makes is easy for the writers to not have April discuss her situation with Jackson. She definitely isn’t going to tell his rebound about falling into bed with him in Montana, and she isn’t close enough to Deluca to talk to him. If they actually put April in scenes with Arizona or Riggs, it would be weird if they didn’t talk about Jackson. So we get none of that. Deluca tried to talk to Steph about Jo a few episodes ago, but she shut him down, so he probably won’t be spilling his feeling to her again. This trio is the perfect set up for good comedic moments, and it also allows the writers to continue to ignore Japril and Jo/Deluca.

April/Webber/Bailey/Catherine – I liked this story. I actually think it is believable that Bailey and April would team up to try to reunite Webbery. I love that April gave Bailey her confidence back by telling her she is very similar to Catherine, and I thought Bailey’s speech was very “Bailey.” I miss strong, confident Bailey. They need to bring her out more often. And while April was not as successful with convincing Webber to forgive Catherine, it was nice to hear April say that relationships deserve a second chance even if there are flaws. Because that basically sums up all the love stories ever on Grey’s Anatomy.

The Press Conference – This came off as cheesy to me. It seems like just another way the show is telling us how amazing Mer is this season. Other characters keep telling her/us that she is hot, and now the press is falling all over themselves to ask questions about her superb surgical skills. I’m not saying her surgery on the plane wasn’t cool, it was. She operated on someone’s brain with a straw and a cup. Very cool. I just can’t help but think that she is a general surgeon, not certified in neurosurgery, who performed brain surgery and the show is acting like she is a hero. But a few episodes ago when April, a trauma surgeon who IS certified in general surgery, filled in as Interim Chief of General, the characters lined up to call her a traitor. Mer’s surgery was cool, but so was Japril’s throat transplant, and Alex figuring out the teenager had Ehler’s Danlos syndrome, and Maggie performing heart surgery on a baby still in the womb. These doctors perform one in a million surgeries almost every episode, and yet Mer gets the press conference. If she is really so great the show shouldn’t need to keep reminding the audience of that. We would see if on our own. But the press conference was really about Maggie discovering Riggs and Mer have feeling for each other. Riggs rubbing her shoulder was supposed to be a moment of obvious chemistry and sparks. Too bad that moment cannot even compare to the one we got with Owen and Amelia.

Owen and Amelia – It seems like they are building to Amelia actually dealing with her feelings. She keeps getting thrown into difficult pregnancy surgeries. I thought her holding Veronica while she died was beautiful and sweet. But that elevator hug. Was. Everything. Owen and Amelia didn’t even need to speak. He saw she was upset and he went to her. It didn’t matter that they had hurt each other or that she moved out. Nothing in that moment mattered except the woman he loves needed him, so he was there. To be able to convey so much love and emotion with no words is great chemistry. That is what Mer and Riggs are lacking and what makes Japril, Jolex, and Omelia the reasons we are still watching.

Jackson and Maggie – I know that Jesse was working out of the country when this episode was filmed, so I didn’t even expect to see him. It’s unfortunate that the one scene he was in was just him listening to Maggie complain, but I think this is another example of throwing people together who won’t ask about each other’s personal lives. Maggie is so self-absorbed at the moment, she certainly isn’t going to ask Jackson about April, or even why he suddenly stopped hating Eliza for that matter. And Jackson is a neutral third party for Maggie to whine to. It was a waste of thirty seconds really, but I can’t complain about seeing Jackson on my screen, I guess.

Webber/Catherine – Their end scene was cute. It is always nice to see Catherine’s softer side. Let’s hope their drama is behind them as well.

A few random thoughts:

I am always impressed with how Sarah Drew can both break my heart and make me laugh out loud. She is such a bright light on this show.

Veronica dying was a tearjerker. I mean, we knew it was coming, but the scene was really well done. The actress was fantastic, the music was perfect, it was everything we need more of this season.

I am happy to see Alex featured in next week’s promo. Seeing Justin play opposite Camilla’s real life boyfriend should be interesting. If we can’t get Jolex movement, at least Alex might get a decent story.

Is Debbie Allen’s daughter (the random resident) filling in where Camilla was supposed to be? Or Leah?

Jackson told Maggie he couldn’t make it to the press conference. Safae on Twitter joked that he must have been busy…with April. My Japril heart is going to believe she is right.

#grey's anatomy #13x21 #japril #jolex #omelia

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ozkamal · 8 years ago

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"But the problem with me was that as soon as I started thinking about getting it together, I got this mad craving desire to fuck it up." Rebecca Godfrey“I am an over-thinker and an over-feeler. Over-lover. Over- needer. I would flood you. I would drown your respectable standoffishness. I don’t get over things, but I get under them well. I’d love you and you’d soak me through. You couldn’t handle me even if you wanted to.” Rebeka Anne, some people think I’m too much "I just want to pour my soul out onto someone and not have to worry about the mess I've made" "Sometimes I’m certain those who are happy know one thing more than us… or one thing less." - Anne Michaels “The Weight of Oranges” “I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.” Haruki Murakami “Find something that you’re passionate about, devote your time and energy to it. But make sure what you’re passionate about is not a person, but a thing.”“I don’t really want to become normal, average, standard. I want merely to gain in strength, in the courage to live out my life more fully, enjoy more, experience more. I want to develop even more original and more unconventional traits.” Anaïs Nin“You have to accept that some people are not made for deep conversations, or for holding you together when you’re about to fall apart, or for keeping you from unzipping your skin, or for talking you out of suicide, or to love you through the worst moments of your life. Some people are made for shallow exchanges, and ridiculous banter, and nothing more. And that’s okay. That doesn’t make them horrible people because they simply aren’t able to handle a storm like you. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you won’t divulge all the gritty details of your horror show. It makes you smart. You have to accept that there will be people that cannot give you what you need. It doesn’t mean they are not worth keeping in your life. You just have to figure out who these ones are before you’re disappointed. And you have to keep them at arm’s length. You cannot expect everyone in your life to understand, to be nonjudgmental, to get it. But that’s okay, because not everyone was made to impart wisdom, or wax-poetic, or speak on politics and the depravity of society, or discuss how crucial it is that the stigma of mental illness be abolished. There are times when you have to get away from all that heaviness. You have to. And you will need superficial conversation about Kim Kardashian’s arse, or a debate on the colour of The Dress. You will need those ones. So don’t go round cutting people off and dropping your friends. You need people for all your seasons. You need people or you won’t survive this.” What my therapist told me this morning“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t as conscious as I am. It would be so much easier.” River Phoenix “I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.” Sylvia Plath “I’m tired" “Sleep” “No you don’t understand” Do you understand?“What is necessary, after all, is only this: solitude, vast inner solitude. To walk inside yourself and meet no one for hours–that is what you must be able to attain.” Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet “Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll “Reading is not simply an intellectual pursuit but an emotional and spiritual one. It lights the candle in the hurricane lamp of self; that’s why it survives.” Anna Quindle“It would be that time - late at night - when your ears reach for any sound. When you can see more with your eyes closed than open.” Diary - Chuck Palahniuk“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” Player Piano, Kurt Vonnegut “I think I’d like to say only that they should learn to be alone and try to spend as much time as possible by themselves. I think one of the faults of young people today is that they try to come together around events that are noisy, almost aggressive at times. This desire to be together in order to not feel alone is an unfortunate symptom, in my opinion. Every person needs to learn how to spend time with oneself. That doesn’t mean he should be lonely, but that he shouldn’t grow bored with himself because people who grow bored in their own company seem to me in danger, from a self-esteem point of view.” Andrei Tarkovsky “I’m one of those people who believe that words are some of the last forms of magic that exist” Lana Del Rey “She waited for the train to pass. Then she said, “I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.”” Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman “… we are capable of many things in all directions, of great virtues and great sins. And who in his mind has not probed the black water? Maybe we all have in us a secret pond where evil and ugly things germinate and grow strong. But this culture is fenced, and the swimming brood climbs up only to fall back. Might it not be that in the dark pools of some men the evil grows strong enough to wriggle over the fence and swim free? Would not such a man be our monster, and are we not related to him in our hidden water? It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them.” East of Eden - John Steinbeck “I crave so much more than just a physical connection. I crave words and depth. I crave who you are and where you came from, your desires and fears. I yearn to know every inch of you beyond the surface.”“Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the…man who walks past [you]…at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…” Timothy Leary http://ift.tt/2l1RShO have very intense conversations with friends, people I really interconnect with. We talk about politics, important things. I like to talk about ideas and get people to be specific.” Jacqueline Bisset “Date someone who is interested in you. I don’t mean someone who thinks you’re cute or funny. I mean someone who wants to know every insignificant detail about you. Someone who wants to read every word you write. Someone who wants hear every note of your favourite song, and watch every scene of your favourite movie. Someone wants to find every scar upon your body, and learn where each one came from. Someone who wants to know your favourite brand of toothpaste, and which quotes resonate deep inside your bones when you hear them. There is a difference between attraction and interest. Find the person who wants to learn every aspect of who you are, and hold onto them.”I stopped explaining myself when I realized, People only understand from their level of perception“She’s never where she is. She’s only inside her head.” White Oleander by Janet Fitch“What I hate is ignorance, smallness of imagination, the eye that sees no farther than its own lashes. All things are possible. Who you are is limited only by who you think you are.” Egyptian Book of the Dead“I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.” Unknown you find a woman with a wild heart do not try to tame her. You must adore her recklessly, the way she is meant to be loved. Do not try to quiet her, for her roars will reach far and wide. She has something important to say. Help her say it. Do not get in her way. She stops for no one. Do not try to change the path she has chosen. Learn also to love the wind and let it change you.” C.B. Wild-Hearted Woman “I am not a puzzle to be solved. I am someone to be experienced- a soul to be tasted” jenn satsun“To be acutely conscious is a disease, a real, honest-to-goodness disease.” Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground "Never have I dealt with anything more difficult than my own soul."“Sometimes words come out of me and I don’t know where they come from or why. They’re like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can’t be stopped.” Glenda Millard, A Small Free Kiss in the Dark “That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”“My emotional life: dialectic between craving for privacy and need to submerge myself in a passionate relationship to another.” Susan Sontag, from Reborn: Journals & Notebooks “We’re all kind of weird and twisted and drowning.” Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood“I remained to much inside my head and ended up losing my mind.” Edgar Allen Poe “Protect yourself from your own thoughts.” Rumi I try to maintain a healthy dose of daydreaming to remain sane.” Florence Welch “I’m self-sufficient. I spend a lot of time on my own and I shut off quite easily. When I communicate, I communicate 900%, then I shut off, which scares people sometimes.” Björk "Desires, memories, fears, passions form labyrinths in which we lose and find and then lose ourselves again." Bernhard Schlink“I’ve always believed one could live many lives…even if just in our imagination. The world is open to us, and each day is an occasion to reinvent ourselves.” Ralph Lauren"I hunger for intensity. For love, affection, for tangible. For ineffable. For infinity. For discovery. I hunger for knowledge. Life is filled with wanders and wonders. Die knowing something. Die loving something."“I fell in love with books. Some people find beauty in music, some in painting, some in landscape, but I find it in words. By beauty, I mean the feeling you have suddenly glimpsed another world, or looked into a portal that reveals a kind of magic or romance out of which the world has been constructed, a feeling there is something more than the mundane, and a reason for our plodding.” To Own a Dragon: Reflections on Growing Up Without a Father, Donald Miller “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.” Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer“I am a jumble of passions, misgivings, and wants. It seems that I am always in a state of wishing and rarely in a state of contentment.” The Sweet Far Thing, Libba Bray “All profound distraction opens certain doors. You have to allow yourself to be distracted when you are unable to concentrate.” Julio Cortazar“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your soul. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” Franz Kafka“Develop an interest in life as you see it; the people, things, literature, music— the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.” Henry Miller Maybe that’s enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.” Anthony Bourdain “Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything is more intense, more true. The echo of words that have been spoken during the day takes on a new and deeper meaning.” Elie Wiesel, Dawn “And like the sea, I’m constantly changing from calm to hell.” Dallas Green “Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity.” Christopher Morley“I feel so shut out, I’m always homesick. But when I get home. I find it’s something else I’m longing for.” Autumn Sonata “Without deep conversation, my mind becomes restless. I need passion and intellect, it’s a shame that a person often lacks one or the other.”“I didn’t say I liked it. I said it fascinated me. There is a great difference.” Oscar Wilde, adapted from The Picture of Dorian Gray “I want to talk to everybody as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night”“Loneliness is dangerous. It’s addicting. Once you see how peaceful it is, you don’t wanna deal with people.” Hedonist Poet“I want to be loved and to be left alone.” David Swanger, “My Mother’s Nudes"“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.” Emily Dickinson“I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things which I dare not confess to my own soul.” Bram Stoker, Dracula“I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.” Virginia Woolf, The Waves“Not everyone can feel things as deeply as you. Most people, their feelings are … bland, tasteless. They’ll never understand what it’s like to read a poem and feel almost like they’re flying, or to see a bleeding fish and feel grief that shatters their heart…” Juliann Garey, Too Bright to Hear Too Loud to See “And never have I felt so deeply at one and, at the same time, so detached from myself, and so present in the world.” Albert Camus“My human capabilities aren’t sufficient enough to help translate what my soul wants to express.” JMC“Perhaps the world’s second worst crime is boredom. The first is being a bore.” Jean Baudrillard “We approach the void…but not to fall into it. We want to become intoxicated with dizziness and the image of the fall is sufficient.” Georges Bataille, Death and Sensuality“If you’re ever lucky enough to find a girl who is a hopeless romantic with a dirty mind, you should hold onto that. Because she’ll be yours at two in the morning and at two in the afternoon the following day. She’ll kiss you where it hurts and until it hurts. And that’s important. Someone who not only knows how to turn you on but also knows how to treat you right is someone worth a little something… and a little more than usual.”“I think if we didn’t contradict ourselves, it would be awfully boring. It would be tedious to be alive. Changing your mind is probably one of the most beautiful things people can do. And I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things over the years.” Paul Auster“I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know–unless it be to share our laughter. We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.” James Kavanaugh“Does she scare you a little? Good. She should make you fear her love, so that when she lets you be apart of it, you won’t take it lightly. She should remind you of the power that beauty brings, that storms reside in her veins, and that she still wants you in the middle of it all. Do not take this soul for granted, for she is fierce, and she can take you places that you never thought you could go; but she is still loving in the midst of it all, like the calm rain after a storm, she can bring life. Learn her, and cherish her, respect her, and love her; for she is so much more than a pretty face, she is a soul on fire.” T.B. LaBerge // Things I’m still learning at 25“Everything is strange. Things are huge and very small.” The Waves, Virginia Woolf"We are meant to discover our authentic nature-- the state of being in which we are inspired by ourselves, turned on, lit up, and excited about who we are." Debbie Ford“Understand me. I’m not like an ordinary world. I have my madness, I live in another dimension and I do not have time for things that have no soul.” Charles Bukowski “All I ever really want to know is how other people are making it through life — where do they put their body, hour by hour, and how do they cope inside of it.” Miranda July, from It Chooses You “I want to meet people with fire in them, burning through life like a forest fire, too many people die out and survive on embers.” Adam Zucconi “A thinking woman sleeps with monsters.” Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law, Adrienne Rich“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the sky.” Jack Kerouac “The hardest period in life is one’s twenties. It’s a shame because you’re your most gorgeous, and you’re physically in peak condition. But it’s actually when you’re most insecure and full of self-doubt. When you don’t know what’s going to happen, it’s frightening.” Helen Mirren “I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me…I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person.” Sylvia Plath“I just want to think deeply about things. Contemplate ideas in a pure, free sort of way. That’s all.” Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage “Strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.” Charles Baudelaire “You have to be interested. If you’re not interested, you can’t be interesting.” Iris Apfel “I always thought insanity would be a dark, bitter feeling, but it is drenching and delicious if you really roll around in it.” The Help, Kathryn Stockett “Everybody’s born with some different thing at the core of their existence. And that thing, whatever it is, becomes like a heat source that runs each person from the inside. I have one too, of course. Like everybody else. But sometimes it gets out of hand. It swells or shrinks inside me, and it shakes me up. What I’d really like to do is find a way to communicate that feeling to another person. But I can’t seem to do it. They just don’t get it. Of course, the problem could be that I’m not explaining it very well, but I think it’s because they’re not listening very well. They pretend to be listening, but they’re not, really. So I get worked up sometimes, and I do some crazy things.” Haruki Murakami,The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle“Words weren’t dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.” Charles Bukowski (from Ham On Rye)“Certain kinds of knowledge rob people of their sleep.” Haruki Murakami, 1Q84“Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.” High Fidelity - Nick Hornby “For every devious scream in my head there is a divine whisper and it saves me every time.” VàZaki Nada“In man’s memories there are those things that he doesn’t reveal to all, but perhaps only to his friends. And then there are those he won’t reveal even to his friends, but perhaps only to himself, and even then in confidence. But then, finally, there are those that a man is afraid to reveal even to himself, and any decent man accumulates quite enough of those things.” Notes from the Underground - Fyodor Dostoevsky“I feel too much. That’s what’s going on. Do you think one can feel too much? Or just feel the wrong ways? My insides don’t match up with my outsides. Do anyone’s inside and outsides match up? I don’t know. I’m only me. Maybe that’s what a person’s personality is: the difference between the inside and the outside. But it’s worse for me. I wonder if everyone thinks it’s worse for him. Probably. But it really is worse for me.” Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close“In spite of language, in spite of intelligence and intuition and sympathy, one can never really communicate anything to anybody. The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body. Our life is a sentence of perpetual solitary confinement.” Aldous Huxley“Mistakes are almost always of a sacred nature, understand them thoroughly.”“People who have monsters recognize each other. They know each other without even saying a word.” Benjamin Alire Sáenz“Intimacy is the capacity to be rather weird with someone - and finding that that’s ok with them.” Alain de Botton“Let’s clear one thing up: Introverts do not hate small talk because we dislike people. We hate small talk because we hate the barrier it creates between people.” Laurie Helgoe“Remember that the world began in a manic episode, too. God likes to hoard sharp things, just like you. We are saving you. And we need to hear it one more time: Who knows best?” Lydia Havens, From the Voices, published in “Pouch” “Keep interested in others; keep interested in the wide and wonderful world. Then in a spiritual sense you will always be young.” Fredric March“fernweh [feyrn-vey]” (noun) This wonderful, untranslatable German word describes the feeling of homesickness for a far away land, a place you have never visited. Do not confuse this with the english word, wanderlust; Fernweh is much more profound, it is the feeling of an unsatisfied urge to escape and discover new places, almost a sort of sadness. You miss a place you have never experienced, as opposed to lusting over it or desiring it like wanderlust. You are seeking freedom and self-discovery, but not a particular home.“Getting lost was not a matter of geography so much as identity, a passionate desire, even an urgent need, to become no one and anyone, to shake off the shackles that remind you who you are, who others think you are.” Rebecca Solnit“Suddenly you’re ripped into being alive. And life is pain, and life is suffering, and life is horror, but my god you’re alive and its spectacular.”“I’m very interested in good and evil and the moral natures of people.” Antonia Fraser“I stay up just late enough until I am just exhausted enough that I can fall into my bed and sink into immediate slumber. Because I can’t stand lying in a bed in a dark room alone with just my thoughts for so many hours and hours.”“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too was a gift.” Mary Oliver“I crave space. It charges my batteries. It helps me breathe. Being around people can be so exhausting, because most of them love to take and barely know how to give. Except for a rare few.” Unknown“The ability to sit down with another person and talk for hours, about anything and everything, is more attractive to me than anything else.” Koi Fresco“The power to bring me out of solitude – or to push me back into it – had never belonged to another person. It was mine and only mine.” Martha Beck“We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.” The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho“Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. When we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.” bell hooks“My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplace of existence.” Sherlock Holmes from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle “Suffering and pain are always obligatory for a broad consciousness and a deep heart. Truly great men, I think, must feel great sorrow in this world.” Fyodor Dostoevsky (from Crime and Punishment)“Therefore, dear Sir, love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. For those who are near you are far away… and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast…. be happy about your growth, in which of course you can’t take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don’t torment them with your doubts and don’t frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn’t be able to comprehend. Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn’t necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust…. and don’t expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it.” Rainer Maria Rilke"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights“I felt a queasy mixture of relief and horror: when you finally stop an itch and realize it’s because you’ve ripped a hole in your skin” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl“He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I should fall asleep in his; and he said he could not breathe in mine.” Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights“I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.” Haruki Murakami “I cannot stand small talk, because I feel like there’s an elephant standing in the room shitting all over everything and nobody is saying anything. I’m just dying to say, ‘Hey, do you ever feel like jumping off a bridge?’ or ‘Do you feel an emptiness inside your chest at night that is going to swallow you?’ But you can’t say that at a…party.” Paul Gilmartin, The Mental Illness Happy Hour“It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human. It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!” It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.” Oriah Mountain Dreamer“I’m half child half ancient.”I am fucking insane but my intentions are gold and my heart is pure“How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?” Don DeLillo“Everyone has a 2 AM and a 2 PM personality.”“My problem is that I fall in love with words, rather than actions. I fall in love with ideas and thoughts, instead of reality. And it will be the death of me.” “My nights are for overthinking, my mornings are for oversleeping.”“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood"George Orwell, 1984“‘I’m bored’ is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless, it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing, so you don’t get to say ‘I’m bored.’” Louis C.K.“I’m not the same everyday. There are times where I’m loud and chatty, and there are times when I’m really quiet. I don’t think I can define myself.”“Personally, I’m a mess of conflicting impulses—I’m independent and greedy and I also want to belong and share and be a part of the whole.” Richard Siken, Spork Editor’s Pages: Black Telephone“There is no pleasure more complex than that of thought.” Jorge Luis Borges, The Immortal from Labyrinths, “Pick my brain. Ask me about my views on something. Dig deeper than the obvious. Let’s make each other think. Show me a different perspective.”“I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full speed ahead. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good.” Roal Dahl "I have the deepest affection for intellectual conversations. The ability to just sit and talk. About love, about life, about anything, about everything. To sit under the moon with all the time in the world, the full-speed train that is our lives slowing to a crawl. Bound by no obligations, barred by no human limitations. To speak without regret or fear of consequence. To talk for hours and about what's really important in life."“Human beings are made of water, we were not designed to hold ourselves together; rather run freely like oceans like rivers” Beau Taplin "You're under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago.""How is it possible to feel nostalgia for a world I never knew?"I am no longer afraid of becoming lost, because the journey back always reveals something new and that is ultimately good for the soul. “Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.” Janet Fitch, White Oleander“No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness.” AristotleIt was a joy! Words weren't dull, words were things that could make your mind hum. If you read them and let yourself feel the magic, you could live without pain, with hope, no matter what happened to you.“I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.” Michael Faudet My dear, Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover. ~ Falsely yours“I don’t like small talk. Talk to me about life. Talk to me about your scars and the concealer you call your smile. Talk to me about the story behind your favorite song. Tell me about your dreams that sometimes seem too big for the Earth to contain. Tell me what wakes you up in the morning before your alarm clock does. Tell me about what makes shivers run down your spine. Tell me about what makes your eyes light up like the stars I can’t see in New York City. Tell me your story.”“Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?” Clarice Lispector, A Hora Da Estrela “I appreciate the people who take time to look at the world a little deeper”Look up at the stars and not down at your feet. Be curious.” Stephen Hawking"I used to think I was the strangest person in the world. But then I thought, there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me, who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there, thinking of me too. Well, I hope, that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes it's true. I'm here and I'm just as strange as you.""There's nothing wrong with not understanding yourself"

https://www.reddit.com/r/quotes/comments/5v96c6/extensionalism/?utm_source=ifttt

#IFTTT #reddit

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wellthatwasterrifying · 7 years ago

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100 questions with 100 answers

One time in 2012 I answered all of these questions and I wanted to redo them because it felt fun to see what all had changed

http://wellthatwasterrifying.tumblr.com/post/24306127834/100-answers-to-100-questions

The old one. ^^^^

The new one vvvv

1) Put your iTunes on shuffle. Give me the first 6 songs that pop up.

Honestly I don’t use iTunes very much anymore. I use a lot of spotify but here’s iTunes

“Who’d have known”- Lilly Allen

“Forever” - Youngblood Hawke

“A Poetice Retelling Of An Unfortunate Seduction“ - Bright Eyes

“Shot of Love” - AC/DC

“Something in the Way You Are” Kimbra

This feels silly because I haven’t listened to most of these in years

2) If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

I’ll keep it with Brendon Urie. /shrug

3) Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

“Like Gansey, he had studied the ley lines for years”

4) What do you think about most?

Lately I think a lot about the future and what I want from it. Are the choices now leading to the future I have imagined or will what I’ve imagined change drastically in the next few years? Are the decisions I’m making now good enough? Of course they are.

5) What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Oh it’s much less academic than what I had in 2012, almost shamefully so.

“I can ask him tomorrow but we are good with pretty much anytime Friday”

6) Do you sleep with ____ or without ______ on?

I sleep with music on or without the TV backlight on.

7) What’s your strangest talent?

Honest to god I can’t think of one. But I think that speaks more to my lack of being able to think on the spot than my lack of a strange talent.

8) Girls…. (finish the sentence); Boys…. (finish the sentence)

Girls are hurricanes; boys are sea shores.

9) Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Yeah I have. Good times.

10) When is the last time you played the air guitar?

Probably the last time I answered this. LIE. It was when I was thinking of ideas for a bar.

11) Do you have any strange phobias?

I still don’t think I have anything that I’d call a phobia, but I’m not fond of speaking in front of large groups.

12) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

Most likely

13) What’s your religion?

I’m a Christian. Baptist. Southern Baptist. Only in the sense that I was raised that way, it doesn’t really impact my life or sway any decision that I make anymore. I don’t believe that there is some omnipotent being controlling or judging every decision we make.

14) If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Lately it has been studying because there’s a super nice little court yard area outside of the pharmacy building that I really enjoying sitting at

15) Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

I prefer to be behind the camera. Forever behind the camera.

16) Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

I don’t have a specific favorite anymore. I’d still probably say Say Anything out of reflexive habit, but overall I don’t listen to any one particular artist anymore.

17) What was the last lie you told?

"It was only 3 scoops.“

18) Do you believe in karma?

Yeah. Yeah I do.

19) What does your URL mean?

There was one time my tumblr post started getting posted on my twitter account which my mom followed. So she sent me this text message about how my account must have been hacked because it was not a “teresa’s daughter” post. That was a terrifying moment.

20) What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

I’d say my greatest weakness is my inability to believe in myself sometimes, I put myself down instead of realizing that I am actually pretty amazing. My greatest strength though is realizing other peoples strengths and pushing them to utilize them to their greatest potential.

21) Who is your celebrity crush?

BREEENDON URIE [told you he would be back again][and again]

22) Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

shhhhhhh

23) How do you vent your anger?

I don’t have a great way to vent my anger anymore. I used to write it down, but now I just internalize it until it bubbles over. Like I said not a great way. I’m working on changing it into “talking” about my feelings.

24) Do you have a collection of anything?

A collection? Not unless the sheer amount of books I’m trying to amass is considered a collection. lmao I’m still collecting books.

25) Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

I prefer talking on the phone

26) Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

I am really happy with the person I’ve become. I do still have a lot of things to work on but it would be boring if I weren’t a work in progress.

27) What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

I haaaaaate the sound of Jenny doing flea bites. Drives me crazy. I love sleepy voice.

28) What’s your biggest "what if”?

What if I had realized I was holding onto the wrong thing sooner

29) Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

It’s possible

30) Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Both touched the arm of the chair. Because I’m in an arm chair.

31) Smell the air. What do you smell?

The smell of some vaguely gross carpet that is in the process of being fixed.

32) What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

The farm my sister was on all those years ago. Still true.

33) Choose East Coast or West Coast?

East Coast, but I’ve never been on West Coast.

34) Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

BRENDON URIE [and again]

35) To you, what is the meaning of life?

I think the meaning of life is to find as many of the moments that make you feel like exploding from happiness, that bubble up from the inside and pour over.

36) Define Art.

Emotional outlet for those who can express themselves through a medium. Damn. I was smart in 2012. What happened!

37) Do you believe in luck?

A lot of where I am now feels like luck

38) What’s the weather like right now?

I wanna say overcast and maybe drizzling

39) What time is it?

11:02pm

40) Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

I do drive and yes I’ve crashed. whoop whoop.

41) What was the last book you read?

The Raven King, again.

42) Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Not very much but I do like the smell of it on someones clothes after they’ve been messing with a car or something.

43) Do you have any nicknames?

I do. The kids at work call me Aims and sadly the people at school call me Boose because I was trying to tell them my last name is said like rice but I shorted out and told them it sounds like juice. So I’m forever known as Boose.

44) What was the last movie you saw?

Venom

45) What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

I accidently cut my hand on a pocket knife and had to receive stitches. I was only like 6 though, so that’s no big deal. Still the worst

46) Have you ever caught a butterfly?

Are there people who haven’t done this? Like not having caught a firefly, sure, but a butterfly??

47) Do you have any obsessions right now?

BOTW

48) What’s your sexual orientation?

Straight. Honestly probably Bi.

49) Ever had a rumor spread about you?

Yeah but I can’t remember what it was anymore

50) Do you believe in magic?

Only in a young girls heart.

51) Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

Not intentionally. I seem to have gained some unhealthy habits from my parents and may have accidentally gained their ability to have a hard time letting things go. But not for everything. Right?????

52) What is your astrological sign?

Sagittarius! I’d hope this was the same, except there was that scare where they talked about adding another sign and that would have changed mine.

53) Do you save money or spend it?

Save it. Mostly.

54) What’s the last thing you purchased?

It has been a few days since I’ve bought anything…gas?

55) Love or lust?

Sometimes I think lust would be more fun, but love is more worthwhile.

56) In a relationship?

yeeeeeees (but I want to know who I was dating in 2012??? Zach??? noooo Matt????)(was that you matt???)

57) How many relationships have you had?

58) Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No. No I cannot.

59) Where were you yesterday?

I went to my parents for family day/jackson’s birthday.

60) Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Gummy worms

61) Are you wearing socks right now?

yesh

62) What’s your favorite animal?

Dogs. I really think they might be my favorite. I feel so guilty not changing this to cats because blueberry is the light of my liiiiiife.

63) What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

I notice little things about them

64) Where is your best friend?

At her home.

65) Spit or swallow?(;

HA. Wouldn’t you like to know!

66) What is your heritage?

Dutch on my dads side and Irish on my moms. (supposedly)

67) What were you doing last night at 12 AM?

Laying in bed debating whether or not I should sleep.

68) What do you think is Satan’s last name?

[ ] Did I even type anything here in 2012?? I tried to copy and paste and now I’m thinking I was playing a trick on myself.

69) Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

This is like the butterfly question. Hasn’t everyone?

70) Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Sometimes, but I also know I’m a bit odd.

71) You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

LMFAO. I wish you knew my boss now. I’d save the dog. Thomas can suck it.

72) You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

A) I wouldn’t make it public but I would tell my core.

B) I’d spend as much time as I could with the people I love because that’s what this is about for me.

C) yes

73) You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

Trust.

74) What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Stonewallin’ by Jane Decker(?)

75) What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

2259. This wasn’t true in 2012. What was I doing???

76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

I think it’s communication and trust. Knowing that they’re there for you and vice versa.

77) How can I win your heart?

Listen to what I have to say

78) Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Depends on how insane you are

79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

To go after what I want and not look back. I will climb this damn mountain.

80) What size shoes do you wear?

8.5 I think…

81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

“She was…”----this is actually still fine because right now all i can think is “She tried...”

82) What is your favorite word?

incorrigible

83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

felt

84) What is a saying you say a lot?

This is true. Awwwww man. 6 years later and I still say this a lot. How do people put up with that?!

85) What’s the last song you listened to?

Them Dirty Bones - Mike Waters

86) Basic question; what’s your favorite color/colors?

Red!

87) What is your current desktop picture?

Hipster shit.

88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

There isn’t anyone I would kill…

89) What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Why

90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

SCREAM my head off. Or panic and have a heart attack.

91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Teleportation without having to have visited the place before.

92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

That one.

93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

blogger. or that one time in the parking lot at UGA where I felt like the world was falling apart again.

94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

BRENDON URIE [again again]

95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Iceland

96) Do you have any relatives in jail?

Yes

97) Have you ever thrown up in the car?

No, but I almost did once instead I threw up in a CVS parking lot which felt fitting

98) Ever been on a plane?

YES

99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

get a grip

100) Give me your top 5 favorite blogs on Tumblr.

sheissuffering

Cooncomic

thatoneismine

burgertv

done

I don’t know. I’d say I only have two favorites

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