poison cage

Felicity’s Tough Moments - Season 4

Here are some of Felicity’s toughest/angstiest moments outside of Olicity in Season 4. Still getting tough to keep these separate from Olicity, but I’m doing my best. Let me know if I missed any! Check out Season 1, Season 2 and Season 3 posts from earlier. Felicity had a rough year - and I didn’t even include the Baby Mamma Drama!

- That time before she was Overwatch

Originally posted by bigdeesmallworld

-That time she was a badass, since always

Originally posted by thearrowgifs

- That time her boys were not getting along and she handled it like a boss. 

Originally posted by dianasprxnce

- That time she was working so hard to decipher that Ray message that she thought was from beyond the grave.

Originally posted by arrowsource

- That time she and Diggle were kidnapped by Dahrk and locked in a glass cage with poisonous gas. 

Originally posted by olicityaddicted

 - And then that time she got shot shortly after getting engaged. 

Originally posted by livelaughlove260

- Which led to her to have a spinal chord injury and a wheelchair. 

Originally posted by carpediemwithme

- Then there was that time her pain meds made her hallucinate

Originally posted by queensarrow

- Then there was that time her father came back into her life and she had to have him arrested. 

Originally posted by arrowsource

- Then there was that time the chip they put in her back didn’t work fast enough for her liking. 

Originally posted by queensarrow

- Then there was that time a crazy robot bee lady trapped her and others in Palmer 

Originally posted by arrowsource

- Then there was that time her friend Laurel died.

Originally posted by smoakgifs

-That time she had to redirect that missile to Havenrock

Originally posted by oliver-and-felicity

- That time she had her parents both under the same roof again. 

Originally posted by smoakgifs

- Then that time she learned new truths about her childhood. 

Originally posted by arrowsource

- Then that time she had to fight off bad guys in the bunker. 

Originally posted by lyricalarrow

- And convinced her ex-boyfriend Cooper to not give up his life to save others. 

Originally posted by queensarrow


The Alnwick Poison Garden is a gated garden located inside The Alnwick Garden adjacent to Alnwick Castle in Northumberland, England. This gated garden features a number of intoxicating and poisonous plants, such as nux vomica, the source of strychnine. This poison is often used to kill small mammals but has also been used by a number of murderers. The garden consists of approximately 100 deadly plants and has a number of warning signs to not touch or even small the plants, with the majority being caged.

John Cage’s personal library is a thing you can see at the John Cage Trust. In fact, they’re now digitized, and you can wander through his books online as if in a used bookstore on a small coastal town, not knowing what you might find — maybe a 1982 calendar titled The Bare Grays, A Calendar of Nude Men Over Fifty, or maybe One Thousand American Fungi: How to Select and Cook the Edible; How to Distinguish and Avoid the Poisonous. 

Cage, while rethinking and composing the soundscapes of forgotten frequencies, silence as aural slant, experience as music, was also obsessing over fungi and macrobiotic diets. His collection of cookbooks (and a mushroom hunting basket) is currently on view at the Gallery Annex at Ace Hotel New York. 

Mama told me,
once upon a midsummer night,
that if darkness and loneliness should collide,
I would be swallowed whole.

my ears are burning,
i’ve felt words do more harm than bruises
bruises can fade
your skin may remain slightly discoloured,
you’ll soon forget
you’ll just forget
but words bury themselves, between the bones of your rib cage
like poisoned ivy or strands of wisteria
and they do more than sting.

words burn your metallic skin, like fluorescent sunlight
and tear you into small pieces, like a bear mauling your skin
into thick shreds that are soaked in blood and screams
words don’t care for medicines,
they spit out your multi-coloured pills
and refuse to let bandages bind them
words will always win
and in that instance, you will lose

my ears are burning, and I’ll tell you

it isn’t a pretty story
truth is ugly
dreams are too flawless
but feel that I’ve covered the harsh realities with enough honeysuckle
and elderflower
so it will not be sour, or rough
and hurt your ears or eyes
but soft and sweet
like fresh candyfloss and cake frosting
because I know that words hurt
I know very well
words hurt

and I will sugarcoat
as promised
but I’ll place the truth under these words
and perhaps you will discover some form of truth
some form of darkness

oh, but my bones are hurting
and I was never made of gold
but iron and copper
that rusts and burns
oh, don’t you see?

I am mere and meek and mean
I have rough edges
with no space for romance or
trust or loyalty
I still have knives falling from my hardening skin
I just wanted to be soft and delicate
but there’s a curse on my neck so I choke on soft linen
and howl at silk gowns

I have thoughts of worlds far and wide
but I am a mere and meek and mean
and I am stuck.

Mama told me,
once upon a midwinter night,
that if hell and purgatory should rise,
I would finally belong.


I have captured myself in a poisonous cage
built of customs and things I’m expected to prize
if you show me the way to escape, I will pay
with the coins that are meant to be laid on my eyes

when I’ve gone far enough that my face isn’t known
I’ll find shelter the shape and exactly right size
to obscure any sign of my residence there
and I’ll take a new face that is woven of lies

I shall keep to myself so that those left behind
won’t discover the freedom my bribery buys
my old cell standing empty, you will turn away
as behind me the smoke and the mourning songs rise

Avian Medical Case of the Day: Do you know what these are? I saw something I had never seen in 28.5 years of avian veterinary practice the other day! A poor little sick budgie had SIX OF THESE CONTAINERS OF POISON ON HIS CAGE, AND THE CAGE WAS KEPT MOSTLY COVERED SO HE WAS TRAPPED WITH THESE FUMES!!!
“Bird Protectors” are a completely outdated waste of money that are supposed to get rid of parasites, but can actually put your bird in danger! They contain 50% Paradichlorobenzene. Mothballs in the U.S. contain very high concentrations of either naphthalene or paradichlorobenzene as active ingredients. They are meant to be used in closed, airtight containers so that the fumes they produce are trapped to kill moths. Mothballs can harm people, pets, or wildlife that may touch or eat the mothballs, or breathe their vapors.
We aren’t sure, but this may be why the poor little bird was sick. The “Bird Protectors” were removed from the cage, and other tests and treatments were performed to see if we can save the poor little fluffed up baby.
Save your money and your bird, do not purchase these, or the Mite and Lice Sprays sold at pet stores or on Amazon or other sites, because parasites are very rare on birds that don’t go outside.
In fact, if you have some spare time, please go to the websites for the big pet stores and Amazon and leave negative reviews, as these products contain great ratings from people who don’t know any better! 

- Julie Burge, DVM

“Why are they still selling them?” 

Just as they still sell sand perches even though they’re awful for birds.
I had someone relinquish cockatiels and inside their cage, every single perch had sand perch paper rolls over them. 

I asked a spokes person from a bird supply company (I forget which one) about discontinuing them. She said they were selling, and unless they had a product to replace them with, the will continue to sell them.
She herself actually fought to get rid of them and hit a brick wall. This is where consumers need to speak with their dollar and online reviews.



“Woke up this morning, found a love light in the storm.

Looked up this morning, saw the roses full of thorns.

Guns are falling, they don’t have nowhere to go.

Oceans of diamonds always shine, smooth out below.”

-Morning by Beck

Anon request: Hi! It’s me again! (The anon who needed more details) but I would like Newt and y/n to already be together and for him to be protective in a scenario where she returns from the maze or somewhere hurt. I’m sorry for the trouble before, and thank you! I really love your blog!

* * *


“Y/n, y/n… it’s time to wake up.”

You make a disagreeable noise, trying to grab a pillow and use it to cover your head.

The sound of soft laughter fills your ears, and arms come around your waist, pulling you into a sitting position.

You blink a few times, your boyfriend’s face coming into focus as he says, “You have to get up, love.”

“No, I don’t,” You mumble, burying your head in the fabric of his shirt, wrapping your arms around him.

Another gentle laugh tumbles from his lips, and he nips at your ear affectionately. “Well, if you were Gardener instead of a Runner, you wouldn’t have to get up as early. And there would also be the added perk of getting to see your bloody amazing boyfriend all the time. What was his name again?”

“Newt,” You say, poking his chest playfully. His fingers guide your chin upwards, and you meet his adoring gaze, returning it with one of your own. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hands cupping your face.

Sighing into the kiss, you wish that you never had to leave. Why did you have to become a Runner anyway? It would be much more pleasant if you could just stay here with Newt… Your thoughts subside as he trails kisses down your neck, and you clutch his shirt tightly, trying to control your racing heartbeat.

You feel him smirk against your skin and push him away, even though that was the last thing you wanted. He pouts, face scrunched into an adorable frown as he reaches for you, but you push the blankets off of your legs and stand up.

You hear him huff, and watch him flop back against the pillows, fluffy hair standing up in all directions and brow furrowed.

“I really thought I had you this time,” He says.

“I’m not going to give up being a Runner just to make you happy,” You say, “Now, close your eyes, I’m getting dressed.”

“I don’t understand why you make me do this. I could always help you change,” His voice turns suggestive, and you turn to glare at him.

“Just close your eyes,” You scoff. In an exaggerated movement, he places his hand over his face, huffing once more. You can’t help the smile that’s begun to make it’s way across your features. You and Newt had an encounter similar to this most every morning, and you always ended up winning.

Pulling his old shirt over your head, you changed into your clothes for the day; leggings, flannel, and army green jacket. You brush your hair and pull it into a high ponytail, and pull on your running boots.

Tugging the straps of your pack over your shoulders, you lean over Newt and take his hand away from his eyes, linking your fingers with his and pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“One of these days, you’ll see it my way,” He says as you walk away.

You laugh, pushing open the flap of the tent.

“I’ll see you later, babe.”

* * *

Later that day, you ran through the Maze, heartbeat pounding in your ears and adrenaline racing through your body.

The sun shone high in the sky above you, but apparently, the Grievers were no longer restricted by light, and one had come out to play.

You heard whirring and clicking not far behind you, and pushed yourself to run faster, your boots barely touching the ground below. You could sense the Griever growing closer, and tried to remain calm.

You saw the marked turn that led to a Glade entrance, and sprinted towards it.

You could make it, you could make it, you could make it.

And then, you felt something sharp prick you in the shoulder, and everything went black.

* * *


He was working in the Gardens when Chuck ran up to him, red in the face and struggling to string together a sentence.

“Chuck, what’s wrong?” Newt asked, urgency creeping into his voice.

Finally able to speak, Chuck spat out, “It’s… y/n… There was a Griever   and-”. But, by that time, Newt was already running towards the main entrance to the Maze, ignoring the pain shooting up his bad leg and screaming bloody murder in his thoughts.

He crossed into the Maze, stopping in his tracks when he saw Minho carrying an unconscious y/n in his arms.

Minho looked at him disbelief. “Newt, what are you doing here? How did     you…?”

Disregarding his questions, Newt took y/n from him, studying her anxiously. “Never mind me, what happened to y/n? What did the Griever do to her?”

“She was unconscious when I found her a few minutes ago, but I don’t think the Griever stung her. She would’ve started the Changing already if it had. But, there’s a mark on her shoulder, it seems like the Griever was drawing blood or something,” Minho explains.

“I’m getting her to the med-jack tent,” Newt grumbled, and once again, began to run, cutting across the Glade at an almost alarming speed, causing his leg to hurt even more.

Once reaching the tent, the med-jacks on duty took her from his arms, setting her down on a cot and starting to check her vitals.

“The Griever got her in the shoulder,” Newt says, his voice gruff as he runs a worried hand through his hair. One of the boys takes her jacket off of her comatose frame, and pushes the collar of her shirt down to reveal an incision on her left shoulder blade.

The mark is precise, no telltale poison to symbolize the upcoming Changing. In fact, the wound already appears to be healing. “I don’t understand,” Newt mumbles, frustrated, “What did the Griever do if it didn’t sting her?”

One of the med-jacks leans over her. “It almost looks like it was taking a blood sample. But, what the shuck would it need her blood for?” He looks just as confused as Newt feels.

The sight of y/n before him, still and immobile, suddenly hits him like a freight train. All at once, he finds it very difficult to breathe, and the pain in his leg begins to make stars appear in front of his eyes.

He stumbles over the chair beside her cot, running his hands over his face. “I don’t bloody know, I’m not a shucking Griever,” He says brusquely.

“We’ll bandage her up, but there’s not much more we can do until she wakes up,” The nearest med-jack says, “I’m real sorry, Newt.”

A hand claps him softly on the back, but he ignores it, looking at y/n through his shattered sight. What if she never woke up?

* * *


Night had fallen upon the Glade, and Newt had yet to move from his position at y/n’s bedside. Several boys including Gally and Alby had come in not too long ago, trying to convince him to at least eat something.

He had refused, and when they had forced a plate into his hands, he had waited until they had left to throw it outside of the tent. There was already enough nausea rolling around in his stomach without adding food to the mix.

Every time he looked at y/n lying there so motionless, it felt as though someone had taken a knife and drove it straight into his heart. He couldn’t help the negative thoughts that flowed through his head as he watched her.

What if he lost her? What if she died and left him alone in this hell that she had just only begun to brighten?

Or what if the Griever had stung her and he would have to watch her go through the Changing? What if he had to witness her lose herself to the madness piece by piece, see his lovely y/n disappear before his eyes?

Tears flowed silently down his cheeks, and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore if y/n was lost to him.

He soon fell into a restless sleep, his fears brought to life in nightmares. There was y/n, dying in his arms, her pulse growing slower and slower, until it finally stopped.

And there she was again, once-beautiful face contoured in agony, unearthly screams ripped from her throat as she scratched at her own skin, trying to free the Griever’s poison from the cage of her body.

He was torn from his macabre visions by the sound of a soft voice calling his name. His eyes flew open to see y/n sitting up, her hand outstretched towards him.

“Newt, Newt… Sweetheart, are you okay?”

He simply stared at her, so taken aback by the miracle in front of him after the ghastly imaginings his mind had just created. She was alive, she was alive, she was alive.

“You’re okay,” He breathes, and then moves onto the cot, pulling her into his arms and burying his face in her hair. She was warm, and smelled of rosemary like she always did, and she was alive.

“I… I don’t understand,” She stutters, obviously taken aback by his behavior. And yet, one of her small hands reaches up, and she begins to stroke his hair.

“You were in the Maze, and there was a Griever… I thought you were going to die, y/n. I thought I’d lost you forever,” He manages to choke out, before his voice cracks into a sob. He clutches her tighter, not ready to let go of her just yet. He didn’t think he ever would be now.

Because for those seemingly endless hours he had just endured, he had felt himself becoming the boy he used to be before y/n arrived in the elevator. The boy who had hated life in the Glade so much he had pitched himself off of the top of the Maze. The boy who had slit his wrists with a rusty knife when his first attempt had failed.

And he could feel the monsters that had previously haunted him waiting in the wings, loitering in the shadows that the brightness of her smile could not set alight.

She hushes him, presses a kiss to his forehead, and then looks him in the eye, her expression full of concern and love.

“I will never leave you, Newt, I promise.”

They both know that her words are futile, that any day, something could happen. And yet, the sound of her voice soothes him, the compassion in her tone scaring away his demons, and he is no longer that sad boy from a time he has tried so hard to forget. No, he is the boy who has somehow earned y/n’s love, and there is nothing that would make him happier.

She kisses him then, a kiss that is soft and gentle, fragile as glass. He likes to think that there will be time for other kisses, filled with passion and roaring heat. For now, though, this is what they both need.

When they move apart, Newt asks, “Will you work in the Gardens now?”

Her response is an airy laugh, and a “Maybe.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please like, reblog, follow, and send imagine requests! 

July Photo Book Challenge

DAY 31: Read This Month

It felt like I was in a reading slump, only now realizing I’ve read more than I thought I did.

That’s my book monster by the way. She’s a ladybug named Jamie. :)