Do you think that before Flynn stole the mothership he tracked Lucy down at all? I'm sure he would have been curious about the mysterious professor who wrote his journal-from-the-future. So I can picture him finding her at her university and attending one of her lectures or something. What are your thoughts?
Oh, my god, Anon. My thoughts are I have had these EXACT THOUGHTS!
He DEFINITELY looked her up before the series starts! No doubt. None. Erase all doubt from your mind. We don’t know the degree of it. Maybe Flynn searched online for information about her. Maybe he read one of her books (a history book– not the sad, handwritten one). Maybe, yes, he even sat in the back of at least one lecture. We don’t know how far he went researching her (he’s an intelligence gathering special agent and this could actually be quite in depth– he has her tax returns), but we do know that Flynn looked Lucy up in the present day before setting his plan in motion.
And it all sounds like an interesting little possibility and fan theory, one more connection Flynn and Lucy have before even meeting face to face, but the logical part of our brain is still like, “Proof?”
How about the fact that, in the Pilot, he knew what she looked like? Yeah. Once you realize Flynn picked her out of a frantic crowd at night in front of an explosion, it hits you: “How did he know her face?” Lucy can write her entire life story in that journal. Flynn can know her mind as well as she knows herself. But unless Lucy included a photograph, he would not know her to see her. He’d pass her on the street. Conclusion: either through research or because he staked her out (attended one of her classes), Flynn was familiar with what Lucy looked like prior to meeting her in 1937.
Now, you can argue the above. You could say that one brief, mid-episode snippet is the real first time Flynn sees her. The part when he’s watching the three be arrested after he called in that tip on them.
BUT! he is very, very far away. And he’s not even the one looking through the binoculars when it happens.
He certainly can’t make out her face. And would he really approach her later with his biggest identifier being that she had on a brown coat? Why would he WANT to leave it up to chance? Why would he risk not knowing what Lucy looks like before going into the past where he knows he’s going to run into her? I really don’t think he would.
Also (just mentioning) Flynn’s guy that Wyatt kills in the hangar knew who Lucy was, and I’m not sure what to make of it. Flynn did brief his men about her though. We know that. Because after realizing who she was (whether because Flynn passed around a picture of her or because he said she’d be the woman following them), the man said, “Flynn wants to talk to you.” So Flynn made certain his men knew who Lucy was and that, if found, she should be brought to him, presumably unharmed.
I really think it makes sense that Flynn looked her up beforehand. It makes more sense than him not doing it. Checking up on Lucy just fits Flynn’s character. Not only for curiosity’s sake, but because Flynn won’t be caught unaware again. After Rittenhouse and his family, Flynn researches, he double-checks. The man has become obsessively prepared. It’s like a compulsion he now has. He needs that sense of control so much he doesn’t even delegate unless he has to. He trusts no one. He does everything himself. He’s paranoid something will go wrong. So many episodes, he has to check the journal before allowing himself to act. Even in 1.12, he pulled it out and studied the drawing before approaching Emma’s cabin. He looks before he leaps, and you can’t tell me that doesn’t include investigating Lucy before thrusting them into the situation where they meet. He would want to know her first, familiarize himself a little better.
So yes, he looked her up before stealing the Mothership. Fight me.
headcanon: mcsnurtle the turtle becomes a therapy pet for barry. whenever he comes back from a mission, he just lies down on the floor with his cowl down and lets the turtle crawl all over him for HOURS. iris tries to get him off the floor in vain and resorts to sitting down with him to play with mcsnurtle
I just….the fact that Molly shows up at the end, all smiles walking right up to Sherlock makes me happy on so many different levels. There’s the obvious, Molly Hooper is happy and her and Sherlock worked things out. But then there’s the fact that Sherlock was destroyed thinking that he’d hurt molly. That he’d done irreparable damage to their relationship. But then you see Molly smiling at him like that and WE know he was wrong about him ruining him and Molly but you know what else? HE knows he was wrong now. After the agony he felt at hurting someone who loves him and that he loves, after thinking he’d ruined them for good, he got to learn that love like Molly’s is pure and selfless and self-sacrificing and forgiving and RARE and the fact that there’s someone out there that loves Sherlock like that has literal tears of joy streaming down my face. Like, Sherlock’s understanding of love comes from the love between him and the purest, kindest person and that’s the most beautiful shit omg
Hello guys as promised here is a fan fiction with Ledger’s joker! Enjoy
“Well well look what you’ve gone and done” Joker walked round kicking the liquor bottles around our run down apartment. “You’ve gone and made quite the mess of yourself” I looked up at him my eyes heavy and blood shot from drinking my night away. His make-up was beginning to smear off of his face, he had his knife drawn and paced the room frantically. “What did this accomplish for you huh?” He waved his arms before bending down and gently slapping my face multiple times. “Come on walk up, wake up” I coughed the taste of blood stinging my mouth. My head had become so heavy causing my vision to fade in and out. I attempted to focus on the book shelf we kept next to the bed. All of our favorites where there, Hemingway, Orwell, Marx. The same books he would read to me with such excitement in his eyes then once I would fall asleep he would drag his icy finger-tips a crossed my forehead brushing the hair out of my face. He hated it when he couldn’t see my facial expression. He looked down on me now, his face blurry with an expression of worry? I couldn’t tell. My hand softly reached out for him but I lost consciousness just before I could reach his shoes.
I woke up no our tattered futon, blankets laid over me and a glass of water on the night stand. I didn’t expect Joker to be there but when I turned my head to the left he was there staring out of the window watching the snow fall lightly onto the city we both hated so much. His shoulders were hunched over completely exposed by his lack of shirt. The only clothes on him were the purple dress pants from the night before. His tongue moved inside of his mouth as he traced the inside of his cheek mapping out the ragged scars that lined each corner of his face Whenever something began to trouble him he would chew at them attempting to break the cuts back open.“What are you thinking about?” I said weakly trying to save him from himself. He slightly turned his head my direction then focused back outside.
He didn’t like alcohol or any drugs of any kind. ‘it makes you.. weak’ he would growl while wandering off onto one of his tangents. I would just sit there and listen cooking that night meals or sowing a new suit for his night-time activities nodding along politely. By getting shit faced he would view this as the ultimate act of betrayal keeping me around was already difficult enough on him emotionally and physically. I was a liability and his only weakness. I something got to me it would tear the center out of him and vice versa. Now though he would worry about me transforming into them as he so kindly refereed to our fellow gothamites. He had got me mentally where he wanted me to be. I wasn’t allowed to go out with him during his life in the underworld but he knew I understood his beautiful logic and that must have been enough for him. I smiled reminiscing on how strange of a man he really was.
I brushed back my long blonde hair and sat up struggling. He was to my side in an instant resting his hand in the small of my back. I smiled but he averted his green eyes away from my blue colored ones. I dropped the smile noticing his demeanor was coming off as hurt. “J I’m sorry” I said tenderly touching his shoulder. He rejected me getting up and pacing on the floors of our small studio.. again. “No you knew very well what you were doing.. Y/n… You just couldn’t resist it could you? Did the color of the liquid seduce you?” He was frantically moving his hands avoiding looking into my face.
I was at a lost for words feeling so stupid. He had treated me extremely well, provided a roof over my head, food to eat and I went ahead and broke his heart. His rant went on for a good couple of minutes but I wasn’t listening until he calmed down and sat back down in his spot by the window. “How can I make it better?” I said hoping he wouldn’t go off again. He just grunted folding his arms humming a song to himself. “Come here baby” I grinned holding both of my arms out longing for his intelligent touch he had so thoughtfully given me many days and nights before. He wouldn’t budge I became angry springing up from the bed quickly I grabbed the clothes I left on the floor and began to put them on struggling. “Oh what now” He said stepping closer to me scratching his right foot with his left exposing the bottom of his feet which had become brownish in color from not wearing socks. I looked at him wildly. “I’m leaving, all I do is upset you I won’t do it anymore” He rolled his eyes smoothly he snaked around me hugging me from behind. “Now when did I ever say that? hmm?” I shook my head breaking away from him. “you don’t have to say it J”
I walked towards the door slipping on my shoes. At first I struggled with them because they had grown to small over the years I had worn them but I got them with patience. I looked at him he was picking at his scars wincing in pain as he tore them open slightly. “J!” I said diving on the bed to grab his hands. He laughed.. “It’s not a joke” I said holding his hand in mine looking down at them. They were soft yet scarred by years of violence. At that moment I realized I was the only one on the entire planet that gave a shit about those hands, about him. He laughed again as if hearing my thoughts. “As if there was some possibility you could actually leave”
His grin mocked me but inside we both knew that he was glad I was still here. Smiling I nervously I pressed my lips to his letting him push back on me. He let his hands roam free on my body finding their way to the usual spot on my hips. He smiled pulling away but stayed close enough to tease my lips. “And everything is a joke if you think long enough about it” I smirked shutting him up with another kiss feeling him grin as I climbed on top of him.
I will not be continuing this unless there is a request to do so :)
The next part of circus will be out soon! Thanks for reading! To be Continued! Same Bat-tiime Same Bat-channel!
as a tear began to stream
down my little face
he said ‘come sit awhile’
there was a humble strength
that hid behind his smile
i quickly learned it was
within his embrace
i felt most safe
lost in the moment
i decided to sneak
a butterfly kiss
upon his cheek
i recall the balminess
of freshly shaven skin
and in his hand
my tiny fingers fell within
and with the other
he tucked the unruly curls
behind the ears
of his entire world
then pressed his lips
gently upon my frown
without a single word
he calmed me down
in that moment
with nothing more than
the loving touch
of a fathers hand
This was written in honour of the first man in my life. Missing him never gets easier.
Coming home at 6 am red lipstick smudged and mascara running down my face, looking in the mirror still with a smile.
My mother sneaking out in the hallway telling me she doesn’t recognise me anymore; me smiling saying me neither.
My best friend calling me crying asking me why am I doing this? I laugh and say babe, this is what I live for.
Dancing on bars and dancing with men, going home with a new one every night.
I wasn’t so much of a good girl after all.
It’s crazy how much a broken heart, a leather jacket and lipstick can do to a girl. - excerpt from a book I’ll never write #22
You and Robbie were on your way to the dentist because he has to get his wisdom teeth removed.
“Is it really necessary that I need to get my teeth pulled from my face?” Robbie asked coming down the stairs.
“Depends, do you want your face to hurt every time I touch it or kiss it?” I asked poking his cheek causing him to wince in pain.
“Well put, come on. Let’s get this over with.”
“Alright Mrs. Kay, so the procedure went very well. We had no mishaps whatsoever, Robbie is still a bit woozy because of the nitrous oxide, but it should wearoff in about two to three hours. His mouth will be puffy and sore for a while, so you will need to give him these painkillers and use this syringe to wash his mouth.” The dentist explained to me. “Ah, and here’s Mr. Kay now.”
Robbie walked out and he looked funny. He was wobbling like he was drunk and mumbling to himself.
“Hey baby, you okay?” You asked him in a soft voice when he gave you a hug randomly.
The dentist smiled at us before leaving to her office.
“I feel funny.” He said.
“I bet you do, sweetheart.” I replied rubbing his head.
“My mouth hurts.”
“I know it does, come on let’s get you home.”
All the way home Robbie kept mumbling stories I’ve heard before and laughing to himself. It was quite the car ride, very funny.
“Hey, I have a secret to tell but you can’t tell my girlfriend.” Robbie said.
“Uh, sure Robbie. What is it?” I replied stifling a giggle.
“I’m actually Peter Pan.” He whispered.
“Oh geez Robbie.” I laughed pulling into our shared home.
“It’s true! I am Peter Pan!”
“Sure you are sweetheart, I believe you.”
“If you really believe, we can fly.”