Requested by @sexyvixen7: Song fic based on ‘You and Me’ by Lifehouse (listen). I skipped a couple choruses out because it would have been repetitive. I hope you enjoy!
Word count: 1380
What day is it? And in what month? This clock never seemed so alive I can’t keep up and I can’t back down I’ve been losing so much time
You wake suddenly, startled by the muffled shouts coming from the adjoining bedroom. It’s Bucky. In the weeks since he had moved in this had become something of a regular occurrence. You made it your job to soothe him in the aftermath of his nightmares as Natasha had done for you many years ago.
His eyes are wide and disorientation is plainly written across his features.
“Where am I? Get away from me. Who are you?” he scrambles away, backing into the corner of the room.
overpowering bleach and disinfectant smell was something that would always
bring Steve back to his terrible hospital experiences as a child. He had spent so much time there between his
own illnesses and sitting in the waiting room for his mother to finish her
shift, that Bucky always joked that Steve himself began to smell like it. He wouldn’t have doubted it at all, given how
often he was told to wash his hands, change from a dirty shirt, and to avoid
anyone with even the idea that they might be sick. He got used to being alone after all of that,
but the hospital stink was something he would never get used to. When he woke to the familiar sensory
overload, he almost expected to be that scrawny kid again in his
I’m back! I’m sorry for being all over inactive lately. I had personal issues, moved to another city and had no internet connection for almost two months. Within these two months I lost Tesla due to massive respiratory problems. His lungs weren’t working any more and I had to let him go. One month later Kopernikus started to be disorientated, had problems holding things and lost weight, because he couldn’t grab his food. I tried to feed him as often as I could, even at night but the vet said it was a tumor in his head and he had no chances to recover. So I let him go, too. He should have met his new friends, Einstein and Edison but he didn’t make it until their arrival. :’(
Let me introduce: Einstein and Edison <3 The two brothers were raised with their 14 siblings by a lovely foster mom, who got their mom from a girl who couldn’t take proper care of the litter. They’re the cutest little creatures, trusting and curious. Einstein and Edison already met the boys for a short time but I wanted them to gain some more trust and grow a little bit until they can join the mischief in a few days. Say hallo to these sweet little roans <3
“Bruce Nauman” is now on view at the Copenhagen Contemporary through December 22, 2016.
The works in the exhibition show how Nauman’s art functions as a performative arena where the viewer is challenged in a concrete or conceptual space—confronted with various stimuli, provoked either by the physical structure of the work or by a more cognitive disorientation. http://fal.cn/EXle
The hardest part is relearning, or maybe learning for the first time, how to be happy. You’ve come out of the fog, of the crippling sadness, loneliness and disorientation, you’re out, congratulations. But what do you do now - what can you do now? The world is not the same as it was before, you’re not the same from before, hell you don’t even remember if there was a before, so how do you move on? The Doctor tells you that the stack of pills on your bedside table is the key, the therapist tells you to look into yourself and believe. But the thump thump of the noises in your head don’t cease. You don’t know how to be happy.
But you want to, of course you do. It’s a litany, a prayer on your lips everyday, even if you don’t know whom you’re praying to (the doctors, the scientists, a god, even as your faith wavers everyday), “I want to be happy. I just want to be happy.” Sometimes, it feels like you were better off in the fog - it was crippling, it was devastating, it was killing, but at least there was some understanding, some familiarity, even as you wasted away. It’s all gone now, and you’re thrust into the outside world, watching as everyone is “happy”, whatever version of happy and you’re just… not.
You turn around, and your crutches are gone. You’ve pushed people away, fog clouding your eyes, your ears, your every thought. Some have left you, the fog too heavy a burden on their shoulders and that’s okay. All you can do is try to mend fences and wait, whatever happens will happen. You find new crutches, new relationships, trying to be who you were before (if there was even a before), and you wade through life.
Happiness is still elusive. Maybe happiness is fleeting, alive only for a moment before it’s gone. Maybe happiness is stagnant, always there, waiting for you to reach out. You don’t know. You’re lost in the roaming masses, and everyone around you showing sympathy, but never being able to help. No, not even your therapist, even he doesn’t know where to find happiness, not your happiness. You wander, running in circles, round and round, searching for something, that you’re not sure even exists. If it exists for you.
But it’s got to be somewhere out there, right? Life can’t just be this. So tell me, how do I learn to be happy? The fog is clearing, and the earth keeps spinning, how do I learn to be happy.
this isn't an hc really... but i always get the thought of "what if genji wasnt that fucked up to where he needed almost an entirely new body, but he was augmented more than needed to become an ideal asset for overwatch"
oh yeah ive thought about that too. his altercation w/ hanzo may not have been the only thing that rendered him like 90% robot, maybe hanzo like, cut off an arm (so he cant defend himself) threw a flash bang at his face (to confuse/disorientate him) and stabbed him in the gut thinking he was dead and set his body ablaze to make sure (lol that didnt work). which u kno. leaves genji pretty fucked up but then overwatch fucked him up even MORE to make him an ideal weapon. do u think they ever told him or just exaggerated the claims of what hanzo did. fucked up if tru
“I don’t know,” He murmured, his hand coming away from the back of his head that he had somehow injured, covered in blood on the back of his head. He was a little lightheaded to say the least but he knew that he had not even noticed his broken wrist yet. Which was probably a benefit if anything…”I fell a little…s’fine.” Frank murmured lightheaded and completely feeling as if he were not entirely focused at the moment. He felt disorientated.
Size-shifter who has to readjust every time he changes between tiny and normal-sized, with his friend/boyfriend there to help him out as best he can.
I can imagine it’d be so disorientating, having to get used to a different perspective and way of interacting with the world- with everything from figuring out how much pressure or force it takes to lift or pick up things, to the lingering fear of cats and other things that would be dangerous to a tiny but not to a human!
So the friend/boyfriend guides him through it, especially the first few hours of changing sizes and helps him readjust.
When he’s tiny he makes sure he helps him feel safe and secure when he first shifts and gets him anything he might need, when he changes back again he’s on hand to help with the disorientation and confusion that might come along with it!
Ok so its 1am and im disorientated. Lets see if this makes sense in the morning.
Ok so, before i start this, I’d like to point out something.
As we know, the Diamond’s Pearls match them by color and gem placement. That’s just kind of a given. And I saw a theory about how Pearl was White Diamond’s Pearl.
Quick lil evidence:
-Peridot mentioning Pearl was a “fancy one” i.e. meaning she belonged to an important gem
Anyway, I really support this theory. Like, there is some solid evidence.
But that begs the question, how and why did Pearl join the Crystal Gems?
Im very much going off of the theory that the Crystal Gems are all/mainly Pink Diamond’s gems. I am also going off of the whole “PD started the rebellion” thing. Ye.
So, Gems are known for being very loyal to their Diamonds. Like, “i will literally die for you man” loyal. It’s very unlikely for a gem, let alone a Pearl, to rebel against their Diamond without proper reason.
So heres my theory.
This doesnt have much evidence, but White Diamond gives off a very bad vibe to me. I feel like she would be the most cruel out of all of the Diamonds. Not entirely sure why, Im just feeling it.
Maybe it’s because we have only seen a mural of her and in every Diamonds logo, her Diamond is on top, signifying some sort of power she has over them
Maybe it’s because of her gem placement. She is powerful, and from what we’ve seen, gems with their gemstones on their head are smart. So she tol, powerful, probs manipulative, and shes probably outsmarting all the other Diamonds, hence her being on top.
So, basically, WD is mean. And Im guessing she wouldnt be too nice to her gems. ESPECIALLY a Pearl.
In one of my last theories, I said PD didnt want to destroy Earth (dont read the rest of that theory, it has many holes). So PD calls the Diamonds together and from what we’ve seen so far, the Diamonds always have their Pearls with them.
Our Pearl overhears what PD says. She hears of this “Earth” and all the potential it has and how it can grow and be something entirely new.
The other Diamonds dismiss PD and say it must be done.
So blah blah blah, all this crap goes down, a war begins, bleh blah.
And White Diamond is on Earth, planning attacks and using that big ol head of hers to try and outsmart those Crystal Gems. But she is out numbered. There are fusions surrounding her, some almost the same height as her! She’s gonna die, she’s gonna get smashed.
So she leaves before is can happen.
And she leaves behind her trusty Pearl.
And Pearl is taken in by Rose Quartz.
And Pearl is taught she can do whatever she wants to.
And Pearl wants to fight.
And Pearl fights.
And gems are smashed and broken but Pearl survive.
Homeworld gems have started to notice a…fighting Pearl?
Rumor has it there’s some “lost, defective Pearl” poofing gems left and right, along side a Quartz soldier.
And Pearl decides she will not be “lost” anymore.
She has a new Diamond now.
Hence the reason her body and gem placement scream WD but her space suit says PD.
Ok this theory is a wee bit out there and has like a million holes in it but eh, thats the fun in theories. They dont have to make sense.
*i mean look at the “Onion is Yellow Diamond theories*
Koichi blinked away disorientation, taking a sec to register what just happened. Eventually he just offered his brother a stupid grin, “I’m fine, don’t worry! You know I’ve had worse, eheh…” Much worse. Although this Koji wouldn’t know that, actually, but Koichi wasn’t aware of that just yet.
Characters: Reader, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Phil Coulson
Warnings: Medical setting, tubes/wires etc
Word Count: 1282
Summary: After being rescued from hydra, you awake in the Avenger’s medical facility to a sarcastic and quippy Tony Stark
Authors Note: Hello Darlins, this is my second crack at Fanfic and I am starting to get into it. This bit just sets the stage a bit and gives us an interaction with the lovable asshole that is Tony Stark. Hope you all like it. Bucky will be making his first interaction debute in Part 3 which is hella fluff.
Your ears twitch at the familiar sound of a heart monitor.
Beep… Beep…. Beep….
You wake, confused and disorientated, feeling a soft mattress beneath you and a warm blanket stretched over your lower half. You open your eyes, slowly glancing around a plain room with white walls. You hear the beep of the heart monitor quicken slightly as you become distressed, your eyes falling on the IV and wires running from your body to various machines surrounding you. You move your head slightly feeling the pull of a tube leading into your nose, your hand immediately jumps up to pick at the tape holding the tube down. “Bit of advice,” a male voice interjects, making you jump, “you might want to wait to get that removed, it’s a bit of a nasty thing to pull out yourself. Trust me,” he smiles gently, “I know from personal experience.” “Thanks for the advice” you croak, hearing the strain in your voice, hoarse from lack of use. You adjust slightly in the bed, trying to sit up, gasping as you feel pain shoot through your chest with the stiff movement. “You might want to take it easy Sparky,” he says, eyes full of concern, “you’re still pretty banged up. We need to keep you here for a few more days.” “And where,” you breath, gritting your teeth as another wave of pain crash’s through you, “exactly is here?” The man smiles, sauntering into the room a smirk pulling at the corners of his goatee, “You’re at the Avenger’s Compound, sooo upstate New York. More specifically you are in the west wing, on the third floor, room 307 of the medical ward.” He recites, “Exact enough for you?” He finishes, a smirk playing across his face. You stare at him for a moment, thinking, “Captain America,” you question slowly, thinking back to the man that rescued you. You glance up at the black haired man with the glowing chest standing in front of you, searching his face for a confirmation of the validity of your memory. He nods, you think for another moment eyes scrolling up and down on the man standing in front of you, “And you’re, you’re Tony Stark, Iron Man?” “I AM?” he exclaims, with fiend excitement, “well aren’t I lucky!” “If that’s what you call it” you shoot back, rolling your eyes slightly at his exhausting sense of humor, “so when can I get out of here?” “In a few day’s, we still need to run a few more tests on you, just to make sure hydra didn’t mess you up too bad” you nod, knowing that arguing would be pointless. “Can you contact director Coulson? I would like him to know that I am alright” Stark stares at you with a look of confusion flashing across his face to be replaced with dark concern as he moves forward to shine a spotlight into your eyes. “Y/N, how is your head feeling?” he asks, watching the way your eyes dilate as the light passes across them, searching for signs of concussion. “Fine, a little sore and very achy but over all, I feel fine” you respond, confused by his worried reaction. He ceases his tests with the flashlight, retracting slightly to sit on the foot of your bed, you wince with pain as you rapidly withdraw your knees from their outstretched position under the blanket, bending them up to your chest, deflating behind them as if they have become some kind of shield. Stark continues to stare at you, aware of your retreating action, the same look of concern plaguing his face, he takes a deep breath before proceeding slowly, “Y/N,” he begins, his voice far more delicate and kind than you had heard so far, “Coulson… Coulson is dead.” “What?” you respond, gaping at him in shock, vaguely aware of the increasing speed of the beeps beside you “When!? How?” Stark looks confused as to how to answer your question, his face screws up slightly as he tries to remember the exact timeline “About four years ago… “ He responds slowly “right before the battle of New York.” You breath easy, knowing now that Stark was wrong, you smile with relief, Stark looks at your smile, his concern rapidly rising. “I know this is probably a new experience for you Stark, but you’re wrong. Coulson is very much alive, I just saw him before I was taken.” Stark stares… blinking rapidly… trying to sort out the validity of this new information, unable to decide whether or not you are telling the truth or hydra has done such a number on you that they have altered your grip on reality. Suddenly a knock at the door alerts you to the presence of a beautiful red head standing in the doorway. Her face is pale, distress and bewilderment distorting her delicate features as she makes eye contact with Tony “Um… Stark… sorry to… sorry to interrupt, but there is, there’s someone here to see you” she reports, clearly confused by the truth of her own words. Tony raises an eyebrow at her briefly, before dismissing her report entirely “Not now Romanoff, I’m trying to sort something out with time jumper here,” he quips, motioning to you, “I really don’t have the time for another person” “How about a ghost?” Phil Coulson questions, appearing suddenly at Natasha’s shoulder, “Good to see you alive and awake Agent Y/L/N” “Thank you sir,” you respond nervously, your eyes now fixed on Tony as he stares, dumfounded, at the man in front of him “Holy Mary,” he finally breaths, his head flipping to you, cocking a thumb towards Coulson, “He’s Jesus! He was dead and now he’s risen. We are in the presence of our lord and savior Coulson Christ!” He laughs nervously trying to process the situation at hand. “Mr. Stark, we have a lot to discuss” Coulson continues, an amused grin pulling at the corners of his lips, “perhaps you could contact Captain Rogers and the rest of the team and we could talk somewhere privately. I believe Agent Y/L/N is probably in need of more rest.” He finishes, moving his gaze to you, raising an eyebrow slightly, “Yes sir, thank you” you respond, grateful for the opportunity to relax and sleep more. Stark rises from your bed “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he asks into the air, eyes raised to the ceiling “Yes, Mr. Stark?” an automated voice filters into the room, making you jump slightly at the unexpected sound, “Can you please make contact with the Captain and the rest of the team and have them meet in conference room A?” “Yes, Mr. Stark.” His eyes return to you, “I’ll send a doctor over to check on you and remove your feeding tube, try to get some rest, I’ll stop in later to see how you’re doing.” he finishes, beginning to move forward to stand straight in front of Coulson before slowly raising a finger to definitively poke him in the chest. “Huh,” Stark huffs, “you are real” The two men begin to exit the room “How do you feel about a séance or a Ouija board?” He asks Coulson, getting more animated with every word, “We could pretend to bring you back from the dead, I think that would really scare the crap out of Banner!” You listen as the two voices fade down the hall, Stark continuing to form elaborate plans to terrify his fellow superheroes with the return of the dead Phil Coulson. You chuckle quietly to yourself as you lean back into your pillows, feeling the groan of your muscles as your body uncoils, relaxing into the soft mattress beneath you.
The feeling of disorientation that clouded Johanna’s head was far too strong. She barely remembered how she got here – some screwup on the Capitol’s behalf, likely – though, after wandering around the shiny city, she knew something was off. People were being friendly to her, sometimes even flirtatious. ( up until this particular moment, she had to tell at least two people to fuck off. ) What awaited her was far more confusing; a woman, the spitting image of herself, adorned in pretty Capitol outfitting. The resemblance was TOO strong to be a coincidence.
Lot of POV switching in this one… it just seemed like the most beneficial way to tell the story. Apologies in advance if it makes the fic more difficult to read. Also, this is supposed to be set in Hamiltime–not sure if that’s obvious or if I failed in that regard. Anyways, enjoy!
‘James! Focus here. Should I diss Hamilton before making my point, after making my point, or both?’
James’ attention was snapped back. ‘Sorry, what?’ he stuttered, slightly disorientated.
‘I think I’ll go with both,’ Thomas said, off on his own little tangent and talking to himself. Once more addressing Madison, he added, ‘Also, that guy you were staring at? That’s Y/N.’
James flushed at having been caught, but Thomas’ eyes had lit up like he had an idea.
‘You should go talk to him!’ he exclaimed. ‘You could use a little company, if you know what I mean.’
Thomas threw in a wink at the end, and James’ blush only grew worse.
‘The issue on the table: France is on the verge of war with England, and do we provide aid and our troops to our French allies or do we stay out of it?’ George Washington’s voice resonated throughout the hall. ‘Remember, my decision on this matter is not subject to congressional approval,’ Washington continued. ‘The only person you have to convince is me. Secretary Jefferson you have the floor, sir.’
‘Don’t think I’m letting this slide, James!’ Thomas sauntered up to the podium and began to talk as James once more drifted into his own thoughts.
‘Y/N!’ You were jolted back into reality as Alexander began talking. ‘Focus here. Should I insult Jefferson before I make my point, after I make my point, or both, like he did?’
‘I really think you should refrain from responding to such schoolyard taunts–’ you started, but Alexander interrupted you.
‘I think I’ll do both,’ he stated with a misplaced confidence.
After a brief pause, you saw Alexander open his mouth to speak again and quickly jumped in–
‘Who is that man over there?’
Alexander looked shaken out of his train of thought, and it took him a couple seconds to identify the man.
‘Oh, him? That’s James Madison, the traitor. He’s Jefferson’s friend.’
Friend? You wanted to asked. What did Alexander mean by friend–‘friend’ like friend or ‘friend’ like ‘Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words, to convince you that I love you’? But before you could speak, Washington’s voice boomed:
‘Thank you, Secretary Jefferson. Secretary Hamilton, your response.’
‘I’m sorry, Y/N, I gotta go!’
You found it hard to focus on Alexander, your mind already occupied with questions about James Madison and Thomas Jefferson. Were they a couple?
James watched you talk to Hamilton, slowly feeling more and more discouraged. Of course you were with Hamilton–what kind of hope did someone like James have?
James sighed, followed by a series of painful coughs, which only served to remind him of his unfit state. Hamilton was still healthy, he thought. What was the point of even trying? Y/N was so handsome, and who was James to try and butt in? There was a clear glint of intelligence and determination in Y/N’s eyes as he talked. Everything about him intoxicated Madison, and he couldn’t help but lose all coherent thoughts at the mere sight of Y/N. Absorbed in his daydreams, James hardly even noticed when Thomas slid down into the seat next to him.
‘You okay, James?’ he asked, concerned, shaking James out of his reverie.
‘I’m fine,’ James replied. Thomas rolled his eyes and followed James’ line of sight–
‘Oh, not Y/N again!’ he exclaimed.
‘I think he’s dating Hamilton anyway,’ James said dejectedly.
‘That’s a bunch of–’
But whatever four letter word Thomas had been about to say was cut off as Washing spoke again:
‘Hamilton? Draft a statement of neutrality.’
‘It’ll be fine, James,’ Thomas said. ‘Hamilton doesn’t have the votes–wait…’
His eyes lit up again and James suddenly got very worried.
‘Thomas–’ he began, concerned for both Thomas and himself, but was cut off.
‘Be right back!’
‘Alexander.’ The icy voice of Thomas Jefferson echoed out into the hallway.
‘Thomas,’ Alexander replied, turning around.
‘You don’t have the votes, do you?’ Jefferson grinned and Alexander glared.
‘What? Did you come here just to taunt me?’
‘I do believe we have a quid-pro-quo that might suit us both.’
Alexander laughed bitterly–‘You’ve got to be kidding’–but Jefferson continued:
‘James is allowed to court Y/N, and I’ll provide you your votes.’
Alexander was stunned. That was it? No dirty secrets, no blackmail or the usual foul play?
Jefferson easily sensed Alexander’s doubt.
‘Look, I just really want to help my friend out,’ Thomas said, in an unusual candor, ‘and James is really interested in Y/N. From the way I saw Y/N stare at him’–Thomas threw in a wink here–‘I think Y/N might be interested too.’
Alexander’s first instinct was to deny, deny, deny, but as he thought back on it Y/N did seem to have been fixated on Madison.
‘Fine,’ Alexander reluctantly agreed. ‘It’s a deal.’ Maybe this could work out well…
A week later, you were awkwardly waiting in the corner of the library for Alexander to come back. He’d said he just needed to go grab a book–Alexander knew this library like the back of his hand, there was no way he was lost.
Suddenly, you heard a fitful coughing. You looked up, and in front of you was James Madison. Words flew out of you on autopilot:
‘I believe we’ve never been formally introduced,’ you said. ‘Y/N.’
‘James Madison,’ he responded, smiling, and his smile was absolutely brilliant.
‘Well, come sit.’ You gestured to the seat in front of you and James fidgeted before sitting down, clearly anxious about something. You stared at him until you realized how awkward the atmosphere was. You tried to break it:
‘So you–’ Both you and James spoke at the same time, and the two of you blushed. His blush was really cute, you noted. Even his cough was somewhat endearing.
Another silence followed, lengthier than the one yet somehow acutely more noticeable. Finally, you spoke.
‘James?’ you asked.
Can I court you? is what you’d intended to say, but you were uncharacteristically nervous and it all came out as, ‘Um, uh, well, I… I was, uh, hoping, um…’
Suddenly a loud ‘Just get to it!’ came from behind the bookshelf in front of you. The voice was oddly familiar…
‘Jefferson!’ James exclaimed.
Jefferson sheepishly emerged from behind the bookshelf, Alexander in tow.
‘Alexander?’ you murmured, shocked.
‘Well, at first I just needed the votes, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that Madison would actually be quite good for you, personal differences with me aside.’
‘Just tryin’ to do you a favor, James,’ Jefferson said cockily.
James burst out into a coughing fit and you ran over to his seat.
‘You okay, James?’ you asked.
‘Y/Nwillyoudomethehonorofcourtingyouplease?’ James’ words came out in such a rush, he burst out coughing again, but you’d understood what he’d meant.
‘Yes,’ you said, blushing and beaming at the same time. ‘A million times yes.’