For more fragments from Marcela’s travels, follow @marcequevedo on Instagram. For more stories from around the Spanish-speaking community, follow @instagramES.
(This interview was conducted in Spanish)
“I like things with fading color. I like to see the passing of time because time can tell you good stories,” says Marcela Quevedo (@marcequevedo), an industrial designer from San Luis Potosí, Mexico. Little details are also special to her: “I can go into an ice cream shop and be drawn to its decoration, but I’m not going to capture the entire place, so I focus on a detail that grabs my attention. It could be a messy wall that represents a nice mess.”
Her pictures also act as a way to relive memories. “The love of my life and I broke up, and I like to share things I experienced with him,” she says, adding, “For example, there’s a window with a little piggy somewhere, and for me, that represents a nice day because we ate corn right in front of that window. For me sharing a meal with someone I love is part of my daily life.”
Marcela travels constantly. “Most people go to well-known places, but sometimes I’m just on a road, I see something that catches my eye and I wonder, ‘Where will this little road take me?’ I venture into villages and there I usually find small details I truly like.”
For those of you despairing because the Doctor’s had Clara wiped from his memory, consider this:
He remembers her name. He remembers they traveled together He remembers that there was a Mummy on the Orient Express. He remembers there was an ice warrior on the submarine. He remembers he spent four and a half billion years punching his way through a diamond wall in his own private purgatory, knowing he could’ve gotten out of there at any time with the right confession, so he could find Gallifrey, and find it with the right bargaining chip in his pocket. He remembers changing history to save Clara’s life. He remembers everything that happened with sufficient clarity to retell it to Clara in the ‘diner’, up to and including the part where he was willing to let the universe undo itself if it meant she would stay alive.
He doesn’t remember her face. Her smile. Her laugh. Her voice. He remembers everything they did but he can’t remember her. She’s become a story in his head, his favorite character in his favorite story, except the story never tells him what she looks like or sounds like, just who she was, and what she did, and what they did, and that she was amazing and utterly impossible.
Maybe he can’t remember what she said to him in the cloisters. But he’s pieced his memory back together around the hole in his head where Clara Oswald used to be, and if he can remember all of that, there is no way in hell you will ever convince me that he can’t remember that he loved her.
Okay, So I drabbled a thing for the Supernatural Criminals AU, that’s basically like the start of it, to give some background to it all. My writing skills are really not that great, let alone in another language, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes and writing sins I commit. Please bear with me and if you see any mistakes please point them out to me nicely!
Before Jean could even finish his order he saw the barista’s eyes fall toward the gleaming ’S’ symbol pinned to the lapel of his peacoat.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t serve to Meta’s.” the barista droned like those words had traveled beyond her lips many times before, and probably had since the new law was in effect. Jean felt his eyebrow twitch and wanted to give her a piece of his mind but declined to do so when he felt his limbs increasingly growing heavier.
I feed her with a baby bottle. Pippin doesn’t have any teeth yet, but she loves to nibble on everything. I’ve been working for years and living in small apartments, so I could never own pets. Now I’d like to have dozens, but we still travel a great deal and Famous is as much as I can handle. Ip is a European deer. When she is fully grown she will stand only four feet high, and she’ll be pure white. Fortunately Ip is a wonderful actress. In all our scenes she behaves beautifully — never more than two takes and most of the times she comes through the very first time. I don’t have any children of my own but I’m learning a lot from Ip. Audrey Hepburn
Like Mary and her little lamb, the five weeks old fawn follows Audrey all over the MGM lot. When it was time for the star to return to the set, she left the dressing room and called “Here, Ip, Ip, Ip!” and the leggy little fawn trotted after her. Vernon Scott from The Bulletin; 1958 +
Whether or not Iris still knows Barry’s secret when the time travel dust settles, Patton said we’ll have to wait and see, but pointed out, “I think what’s important about this episode is we learn the answer to the question that Barry asks Iris in Episode 9: ‘I feel this way about you, how do you feel about me?’ When she’s backed against a wall and realizes they could both lose their lives, it propels her to finally come to grips with how she’s been feeling and I think that’s so important that at the root of how she feels, she loves Barry.” [x]
Hi! Could you maybe
write a Bucky X Female!reader fic where the reader lives w/ the avengers and
every time Bucky has one of his fits and goes into winter soldier mode, he gets
locked in a room for two days or so to calm down and the reader doesn’t leave
the door the entire time? The other avengers could like try to get her to leave
the door but she would refuse and they would end up just bringing her food and
blankets and feeling bad for her? Sorry for the super long explanation!! Thank
I kinda traveled of the prompt a little bit but this has some major feels!
This made my heart hurt, i just love Bucky so much and he must be protected, I got the idea off a post from instagram
Bucky had had another one of his episodes. That’s what usually happened when
one of the avengers got a little rough or someone said the wrong thing.
He would be locked into a room that Steve had made, like a
restraint room. It was padded and there was nothing in there that he could harm
himself with or anyone else.
There was also a vice just incase he became out of hand and they had to trap his arm again.
His screams could be heard from the other side of the door
as he struggled to get out, metal smashing against metal as he hammered the
door with his bionic arm.
“Don’t worry Buck…I’m here.” You whisper and as soon as you
do the screaming stopped and you felt him sit on the other side of the door.
It was silent for a long time after that until a voice spoke
on your side of the door.
“Y/n you can’t stay here again, It’s not safe.” Tony said standing infront of you.
Your eyes met him and they narrowed as you scowled at him. “It’s
not safe for me to be here? With James? The man that needs a friend most right
now?” you stood to meet Tony and you heard Bucky shuffle in the room even
though he couldn’t help.
“I-“ You interrupt the billionaire before he could even get
a word out.
“Even Steve is afraid of him right now but I’m not. You saved
me from Hydra, I know what they do to people like me and Buck, innocent people.
We don’t know the extent of what Hydra could have done to Bucky… They could
have forced him to do anything. anything they wanted him to!”
He was silent as you spoke, your tone defensive and low.
“Because he didn’t have a choice. They programmed him to
follow orders. He couldn’t say no or don’t or stop. But maybe saying please was
allowed, so he did, meaning ‘please, stop’… but Hydra never stopped. Never.
What if Hydra used him for more than just their willing killing machine? They
could have forced him to do anything, to let everything happen to him…”
A crowd had formed
now and Steve pulled Tony back away from you so you could talk openly to all of
Bruce had a blanket in his hand and Natasha had brought you
some snacks because they knew you would stay until Bucky would come out.
“I had a dream last night.” Your voice dropped and you lent
against the metal of the door. “W-what if they let him wear a uniform that was
strangely familiar to the asset but he never understood why they mockingly
called him Sergeant Barnes…? T-they could have experimented on him like they
did on me.”
Wanda walked over to you and put her arm around you to comfort
but you didn’t stop talking, knowing Bucky was hearing every word.
“What if they experimented on him because they knew he
healed faster than a normal human being? Or if they hurt and injured him on
purpose to see /how/ fast he was healing? What if they tortured him just because they had fun doing it? Because the
Winter Soldier was a toy soldier, a puppet, a trigger to pull but no human? At
least not for them…”
“Y/n…” you heard the voice of Bucky from the room and that
caused tears to fall down your face.
You looked at Steve. “Let him out…Please? What if you’ve
making him worse by trapping him in there?”
He looked at you for a short while before nodding and
opening it slowly.
Bucky slowly stepped out and Steve stepped away letting him
walk past. He headed straight for you.
“James?” you muttered slightly worried and everyone moved
into a defensive mode as he pushed you against the wall.
The captain was about to pull him away but you rose a hand
to stop him.
He looked at you with his dark eyes that you could melt in
and as you looked deeper they softened and his lips gently pressed to yours.
“Thank you y/n.” His metal hand gently ran down your arm, making
River, in fact, was born by chance. In the Library episode, I had to justify the fact that the archaeological team could meet the Doctor and then very quickly get out of his life. Then I began to think: what if one of them already knew the Doctor? But it would be a coincidence too trivial. Then I created the character of River, after reading The Time Traveler’s Wife. This novel has helped me to develop the woman who knows the Doctor more than he knows himself. Do not despair, Mr. & Mrs. Who will return to action this Christmas!
TVLINE | What can you tease about Felicity’s reaction to the news about Oliver’s son William? I feel like we saw her in the crossover episode react in a certain way, and we’ll see seams of that play into this reality, this timeline that we watch — which is interesting to think about, that we’re not watching all of the timelines all the time and yet they’re happeninnnng! [Laughs] I think we all know Felicity’s heart pretty well, and we know that she tries to be as honest as possible all of the time. I feel like that’s something she respect in her friends and in the people she surrounds herself with, and with that said, when she finds out this information that she would hope to have known, we can probably predict how she is going to react!
So…I find it extremely interesting that she would call into play the timeline effect..
Doesn’t it sound a lot like another time-travel could be possible? From the previous writers’ statements I got the impression that this wouldn’t be the route they’d take, since the FF moment with O/F in the limo is completely intertwined with the death that’s bound to happen and the EPs also said that this death would be permanent..
But it sure gave some food for thoughts, all the more if we think about LL’s line in the flarrow crossover about “dejavu’s ”…
This word is very connected to them and there were so many different directions I could have taken it. They entered Henry’s book by traveling in time and they where even stuck inside a book together in the season 4 finale. There was also Hook’s concept of calling Emma an open book, which was the first time we saw evidence of how unique this person will be in her life that it took him a split of a second to understand what she’s about.
But I decided to use this word to show a few pages from the Captain Swan book (a la Snowing). They have such a fascinating love story and they deserve their own book! Maybe Henry as the new author will be interested in writing it ;)
Send me a word/quote/parallel and I’ll make you a CS gifset inspired by it.
We met in the foyer of the townhouse the next morning. Overnight, Cassian had alerted one of his legions to prepare to fly south. It would take them longer to get there, since they would use a combination of winnowing and flying to travel across Prythian, but Cassian would still travel with us so that he would have the chance to survey the territory and evaluate the conditions.
Request: Hey sorry I’m sure you are going to be getting a bunch of 200 requests but I was hoping I could add one. The reader has been traveling with Sam and Dean for along time, long enough to be in the books, and every time something with the books happens she kinda feels left out. Like no one ships her and Sam even though they are together and what not. she is usually pretty good about putting on a tough face but when she isn’t in the musical she gets really down, fluff ensues! Thanks!
“There is no singing in Supernatural!” Dean said firmly to the two high school girls staring back at him. You stifled a laugh as your eyes roved over the extensive set they had on stage. It was amazing; an entire play dedicated to Chuck’s books.
“Well, this is Marie’s interpretation.”
“Well, I mean, if there was singing in Supernatural–and that’s a big if–if there was singing, it would be classic rock,” Dean continued. You gave Sam an elbow to his side, laughing silently and sharing a look with him as Dean went on about Kansas. You let yourself wander away from the four of them, down the stairs of the auditorium. You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over your face as you took in the girls dressed as people you’d known, people you’d loved and lost. You’d been around the Winchesters long enough to see a few of these meta cases popping up and revolving around Chuck’s books, and you felt yourself wishing childishly that this one wouldn’t be like the last few. That these girls would have included your character in their version of the story.
Cas was there, of course. Bobby, too. You caught sight near the back of the stage of a facade of Harvelle’s bar and smiled to yourself before heading back up the stairs to stand beside Sam.
“Maeve, right?” he was asking one of the girls. “You’re the stage manager?”
“And I understudy Jody Mills,” she replied.
“What?” Dean asked.
“That’s great, that’s great. Jody Mills,” Sam said. You perked up at the thought. Jody had been around awhile, sure, but she hadn’t been with the boys as much as you had. Surely, if she were getting a part in this thing, you’d be represented as well.
“So how about you give me a, uh…behind the scenes tour while your director shows my partner Miss Chandler’s office? Deal? Great, give us a moment please.”
The girls headed away and you looked to Sam and Dean.
“I’m gonna throw up,” Dean said, and you began to laugh, earning a glare from him.
“I mean, I gotta say, it’s kind of charming. The production value…” Sam trailed off as well, his smile fading under the withering look from his brother. “No? No.”
“How do you want to split this?” you smiled between them, running a hand over Sam’s arm.
“I’m gonna check for EMF. Dean can look for cursed objects, and you can interview the other girls. See if they saw anything.”
“Sounds good,” you replied, and headed once more down the stairs to where many of the actors were gathered. You spoke to the girl playing Sam first, calling it a biased choice. She hadn’t seen much, seemed a little bitter about the whole ordeal and had no love lost between her and the director. But she seemed genuine when she said she had no idea what had happened. You sat next to her on the stage when you were convinced, swinging your legs over the edge and looking behind you at the set.
if you could go back in time and tell your younger self one thing, what would it be?
I have to tell you, whenever I consider
questions like these, I always get wrapped up in the time travel paradox—like
if I went back to my younger self to give her advice, would I change the course
of the future? Because if so, I want to just let her do her thing, because I
really like where I ended up.
My non-ridiculous answer is, I’d tell
her to get help for her anxiety sooner, to be kinder to the people around her,
and to be more curious about the world. I got to a good place eventually
(though I can always stand to be kinder and more curious, I think), but
sometimes I wonder what I could have done if I’d gotten there sooner. -Veronica Roth
July 16, 2011.
“Bon Odori is the festival where
your deceased relatives come back to visit you for a time and then leave again. I was shooting the floating lanterns of the
Yokosuka Bon Odori festival this evening. I had been shooting for a few minutes
when I heard a small voice near me say "おかあさん さようなら” (Mother, Goodbye). I turned to
see an older woman who had obviously lost her mother recently, saying her
goodbyes. We locked eyes for a
brief moment and in that time I could see her pain. I gave her a small nod of
my head and she returned the gesture. I
then put away my camera, slightly ashamed for treating this as nothing more
than a photo-op and said a few prayers for those that I know who have moved on
to the great beyond. I learned something
today about compassion and being aware of other peoples pain. We are all just
travelers on the bumpy road called life, so let’s cut each other a little slack
when we happen to meet as you never know what a person may be going through at
that moment.” Text and photography
by Jeff Laitila on Flickr
Hi! Could you do a DeanxReader where they are dating and in love pre S1. They have a fight (about smthng stupid) so the reader goes outside to cool off, but unknowingly time travels to S10 where she meets a shocked and pissed MoC!Dean. He always thought she abandoned him (he never mentioned her to Sam bc it hurts too much). He is at first put out by her return and the sudden age gap, but he still loves her and it ends happily? Angst & fluff please. I love your work <3 (Do you like this idea ?)
Hello! I love this idea! I hope my writing can do it some justice… I also didn’t really proof read this as i had no time but i wanted to get something posted. So if you see any mistakes tell me :) Enjoy x
“Dean, would you just listen to me?!” You yelled at your boyfriend. You had been arguing for almost ten minutes now, over absolutely nothing. You loved this man to bits, and you always stuck with him and supported him in his dangerous, cross-country work. But you were together 24/7 and sometimes you just got on each others nerves.
“No! Sometimes I just think you try to annoy me.” He argued back. You put your head down and pinched the bridge of your nose whilst sighing. This really was a stupid argument.
“Dean this is pointless, I’m going to cool off. I’ll be back in 10” You announced, grabbing your wallet before you left the motel room. You planned on walking to the smoothie store and buying one for yourself and one for Dean as a peace offering.
You walked to the shop, it was barley five minutes away. It was almost 10pm but this town was a busy area, and most places didn’t shut until mid-night. The bell above the door rang to announce your arrival to the shop keeper. He turned around with a smile and a cheery attitude.
“Hello, ma'am! What can I do you for?” He spoke happily. You would have found it nice if you weren’t in such a foul mood.
“Hi” You spoke dryly.
“Two strawberry and banana smoothies, please.” You ordered. You fiddled with your wallet, taking out a $10 bill to pay the man. You heard some commotion going on behind you at the door but you didn’t so much as glance at it.
“Here you are ma'am. $9 please” He placed the smoothies in front of you, before you could say thank you his mood changed in the click of a finger.
“What are you doing?!?! WE HAVE A CUSTOMER!” he screamed at the men facing the door who had decorated the glass window pane on the door with some kind of sigil graffiti.
“Ma'am don’t go through that door” He pleaded at you. You brushed him off, just wanting to return back to the motel room and let Dean know that you loved him and you were sorry. The men moved out of your way as you pushed the door open. As soon as your foot stepped out side of the shop a force hit you. It was like a gale force wind lasting barley a second hitting you in the face whilst your feet stuck to the ground and you couldn’t move. Your hands went numb and you dropped the drinks, along with your wallet. Your feet were glued to the ground and the night fell around you within 5 seconds. You tried to shout but nothing happened. You panicked. What was going on?
You closed your eyes as the force hit you again, only this time you felt like you were moving. You were being pushed but you didn’t know where as now your eyes were stuck shut.
Eventually you peeled them open and saw were you were. You were standing in front of a door. It was like a hobbit hole. There was a tall bank of soil with ruins on top, and underneath the ruins was a shape of concrete with metal railings framing it. There was a semi-circle of red bricks built in it, and in the center, a door. You don’t know why, but you had to open it. You felt an extremely strong urge inside your body telling you to open it. You had to walk down a few steps from the road to the door, and when you reached it you felt like you were being pushed towards it.
Your hand clasped the brass door handle, the coldness sending a shiver up your spine but sparking your curiosity even more. You pushed the door open and saw the very last thing that you were expecting to see inside this building. It was so very large, there were stairs lead to a large room with a world map table in the center, there was a small set of steps that led up to what looked like a library and then a long corridor off to the side. But the thing that struck you most was the man sitting at the table. His broad shoulders were leaning over a book with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You didn’t feel afraid, you felt like you were supposed to talk to him. You silently walked down the steps towards the man, spitting out a quiet “excuse me” before tapping him on the shoulder. He shot up and grabbed your wrist, hammer-locking your arm behind your back in no time. You were bent slightly forward and couldn’t move, the man’s husky voice echoed in your ear as he spoke.
“Who are you, what do you want?” He spat.
“I don’t want trouble I swear, I don’t know how I got here”
“Hey! Holy water, salt! Now!” He yelled presumably to the person who’s foot steps had just wandered into the room.
“No! I’m not a demon” You whimpered. The man loosened the tightness of his grip, but still held you.
“How do you know about demons?” He asked.
“My boyfriend” You squirmed out of his hands and turned around to face him, brushing the hair out of your face. You looked at the man who had just been struggling with you, and your eyes widened.
“Dean? What the hell are you doing here? how did we get here?” You questioned
“y/n” Dean said in barley a whisper.
“Dean why aren’t you at the motel, what’s going on? how the hell did I get to this place?” You flooded your boyfriend with questions that he had no intention of answering. His eyes scanned over your face and you could see them tearing up. He looked different. You didn’t know what it was. He had aged, maybe 10 years. He had stubble and more scars. But apart from that there was something else. He was sad. His eyes weren’t full of happiness like they used to be, his smile wasn’t beaming across his face like it normally was, and it looked like it hadn’t in a long time.
“How did you find me?” His voice cracked.
“Well I went to get us smoothies as a peace offering after the argument and on the way back something hit me I don’t know what happened but I landed here”
“Y/n that argument was 10 years ago. This is 2015” He stated.
“no.. no Dean, I just left. We were arguing over how I was annoying you, we were in Mississippi you were hunting a djinn.. an–and we were going to meet up with your dad tomorrow to help him on a case.”
“My dad is dead! he has been for almost 9 years now.” Dean spoke as he held his hand up to the man who had entered the room with holy water and salt, to stop him in his tracks, he motioned for the man to leave, and he followed Dean’s instructions, clearly understanding that you were no threat.
“Bu- but- if that’s true, then were am I? Shouldn’t a version of me be here?” Your eyes started to water as a single tear streamed down Dean’s face.
“I thought you left me.” He breathed deeply
“That night of the argument. I thought you walked out” He bit down on his bottom lip, and bowed his head. You walked towards him and put your hands on his shoulders and rubbed them gently, he seemed reluctant to touch you back.
“Dean I love you. I promise I never meant to leave you, I was on my way back. Please believe me I didn’t mean to come 10 years into the future, I don’t know how it happened. And I’m so sorry.” He looked up at you with sad eyes and you pulled him into you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly like he hadn’t had the comforting touch of a human in a very long time.
“I’m so sorry” you repeated and he snuggled into you, telling you he loved you.
Am I the only one who kind of hopes that it’s Rachel Amber buried in the junkyard? And no, it’s not just because I’m a fan of Nathan’s complex character and hope it’s not him buried there.
If we are to assume that Rachel is dead, her death is so… Real. As in, it could happen to anyone, unfortunately. She has no magic time powers, she’s not hiding out somewhere waiting for her chance of revenge, she’s just… Dead. It really brings the game back down to earth, after you’ve had your fill of time travelling and whatnot.
Also, that emotional scene with Chloe breaking down over the body is like a climax of the game, an important part that’s meant to make the players sit back and think “wow, to see Chloe break down like that… This is rock bottom.” And honestly, if it was Nathan buried there and Rachel shows up fine, that would render that important climax useless. It would just be “We’ve just accepted your death and now you’re back…. Okay, I guess.”
My sister lives across the country. She has been married for 33 years. They’ve raised two daughters who are now adults, but she’s been living the most boring life ever.
I don’t know how she could be happy doing nothing but cooking and cleaning for all these years. And then she has the nerve to criticize me for not having enough time in my day, when she has no clue what it’s like to work full time.
I can’t understand why she doesn’t want to work more and help her poor husband with their finances. Then they could travel and see the world. They never go anywhere. I want so much more for her.
She has never had to live through things like illness, job loss or divorce like I have. She has been supportive sometimes, but not all the time. I guess I’m a bit jealous because she has so much free time.
I’ve asked her to write me a list of what she does all day. I’ve sent her lists of what I manage to accomplish in the three hours I have in my home, but she has declined to provide her list.
It’s so sad that she has never had any aspirations.
It makes me so sad to feel like she’s wasted her life; she’s only in her 50s. I told her all this in an email, but now she’s mad at me for just being honest. She expects an apology, but I’m hurt now, too. How do we get past this? Do you have any advice on getting her to see my view?
Dear Most Eminently Accomplished Human On Earth,
Who does not aspire to having the most exciting life on earth, which is to say, the one which you have, which is wholly consumed with monitoring the hourly activities of a woman who lives thousands of miles away?
Your life, thrilling and satisfying as it clearly is, should be aspired to by all the worthless layabouts who raise happy families like that unimaginable bullshit is some admirable thing to achieve on earth. How will your sister ever see what excitement she’s missing if she does not provide a detailed accounting, for a person who lovingly and out of sincere concern berates her very being, of the way she spends her pointless, useless time?
But look, what you need is a means of getting past all of this unnecessary nastiness, which but for your sister’s desire to have her family and her person and her decisions left the fuck alone by a judgmental relative would be completely non-existent?
It’s possible you could let the whole thing go, accept that your sister is living a life of her own choosing as an adult human. But who, in your busy and important position, could let such inanity persist? Continue to harangue and harass your sister, and the Bad Advisor believes you will find yourself much and swiftly relieved of the means by which to ascertain her many failures, just as you desire.
So, yeah, this is a fic where I do my take on the morning after Rae and Finn’s first time together. It’s more about Finn this time around, because most of those morning after!fics I’ve read were about Rae.
There is a bit of smut in there.
I’m really proud of this one. Please hand in some feedback!
It’s funny how, in the morning, everything comes crashing down on you. They’re in bed still. Rae’s mother is downstairs chatting with Karim. The sounds travel up the stairs and have woken up Finn.
Rae is still asleep, a small smile on her lips and her eyes flickering, as if she could wake up any minute. Finn really cannot help but stare at her. It’s the first time he has ever seen her so peaceful. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for her, he realizes and suddenly, it falls around him.