#scaredandhungry

I’ve had two other RP blogs over the last four years, an OC in the James Bond universe, Grace Willamette 002 and then, a year later, Elsa from Disney’s Frozen. I started this  RP a year an a half later and is the only one that I have kept active for more than a year. I have played around with the idea of playing Castiel (Supernatural), Irene Adler (My own version of the Sherlock universe before season 2), Steve Rogers (Captain America/Avengers), Peggy Carter(Captain America/Agent Carter), Jemma Simmons (Agents of Shield) and Kara Zor El (Supergirl) but never really started those up.

@gracewilmette002

Grace fell heavily onto the foot of her hotel bed and pulled the box of Chow Mein and chopsticks out of the takeaway bag at her feet. MI6 hadn’t sprung for a suite for this mission so she had no kitchen or tea kettle, both of which bothered her much more now than they had this morning. Now she was sporting a cracked rib and bruises over most of her torso from taking out the American drug kingpin who had set up shop in Canada. That meant hand to hand combat, snow gear and now, crappy Chinese food.

She kicked off her heels and folded her legs up under her as she broke apart the chopsticks and dug into large box of Chow Mein. She had sprung for potstickers too, but had eaten those in the cab she took back from the hospital to her hotel room in Toronto. 

Her phone buzzed and she  groaned at the pull of her core muscles as she reached into her purse where she had dropped it next to the bed. However, her mouth turned up into a smile when she saw the caller ID.

“Hey Sweet pea, how’s it going?” Technically speaking, Sofie  wasn’t Grace’s daughter, niece, or… anything really, but the young woman was by far the most important person in her life. 

Rules: Answer 10 questions, tag 10 people, please repost don’t reblog ♥︎:

1. WHAT’S THE LAST MOVIE YOU SAW?  Xmen Apocalypse!

2. LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO? Raindrops are falling on my head by Pomplamoose

3. LAST SHOW YOU WATCHED? Umm... I forgot actually. xD

4. LAST BOOK YOU READ? I’m currently reading Elegance of a Hedgehog, Gone Girl, and Neverwhere : )

5. LAST THING YOU ATE? Paella!

6. IF YOU COULD BE ANYWHERE ELSE RIGHT NOW, WHERE WOULD YOU BE? SPAAAAAAAACE!

7. WHAT DECADE WOULD YOU WANT TO TRAVEL TO? I’m happy here. : )

8. IF YOU WON THE LOTTERY AND GOT MILLIONS IN CASH, WHAT WOULD YOU DO FIRST? Save my money, donate some to charity, use some of it to go on a trip with my family.

9. WHAT FICTIONAL CHARACTER WOULD YOU HANG OUT WITH FOR A DAY?  Either Mabel Pines or Gandalf

10. WHAT WAS THE LAST FANDOM YOU JOINED? Probably the Xmen and Man from UNCLE fandom. :>

@scaredandhungry

Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting. –Haruki Murakami

On an errand for her mum, Jemma was headed to the tea shop for the cakes her mum preferred for company. It was lovely to get out of the flat and just walk a bit, she decided, as she crossed the street at New Oxford near the British Museum. There had been quite a few visitors by since she’d been home. It had been literal years since she’d been for a stay and all her nearby family and friends had been popping by for tea.

It was lovely being back but for some reason everything was reminding her of Fitz. They’d taken so many holidays back home together, often taking a couple of days in London together before parting ways to go visit their respective families. Even here near the museum, she was reminded of a visit they’d gone on together, taking in the collections—Fitz looking for alien spacecraft in the Egyptian hieroglyphics, blushing at the Greek sculpture and attempting to explain the purpose of the various construction methods of medieval armor to her. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she already knew, so she’d let him be the engineer he was and attempted to appear interested.

Of course, that only made her miss him again, as she seemed to do off and on whether she liked it or not. At times, she didn’t even think of it any longer and others it seemed all she could think of. Perhaps it was the unresolved nature of their relationship that had her unable to finally put it all to rest.

After Jemma had finally returned from her undercover mission working at Hydra nearly a decade ago, she’d returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. to find that Fitz had gone. He left no way to get in contact with him and, though Jemma had called his mum, she’d said only that he checked in now and again and she’d mention to him that Jemma had called. But she never did hear from him—not from that day to this.

At first, she’d thought perhaps he’d been upset by her deception. She had only told him she was going to visit her parents when she’d actually gone to infiltrate the enemy. As time drew out, however, she wondered if it had been much more. A colossal misunderstanding that had left him hurt and unable to see her again. After he’d woken, so ill and unable to speak or function normally, it hadn’t seemed the time to address his feelings and as he worked to recover, her presence seeming so detrimental, she thought it better to save for a time when things were less fraught.

But then he’d gone and she’d never gotten a chance to explain herself or defend her actions in any way—much less tell him her response to his love confession. In the end, it seemed she’d lost her best friend for doing what she’d believed was the best thing for him. The worst bit was never knowing if she’d been right or wrong.

Entering the shop, Jemma quickly got in the queue, peering at the menu and trying to recall what it was her mum had wanted her to get. It soon appeared the line was moving rather slowly. Though there were a couple of people between her and the front, there was a little girl of about four attempting to choose a pasty and having a very difficult time of it, or so it seemed.

“Not that one, Daddy!” she cried, a bit over-loud in Jemma’s opinion. Though, even if she was a bit strident, she seemed cheerful enough as she swayed and smiled sweetly, clearly attempting to charm her daddy. Involuntarily, Jemma smirked a bit, internally cheering her on, having done the same herself at that age. “The chocolate cake! Please, Daddy?”

Jemma could see that her daddy was crouched down beside her pointing through the glass of the pastry case but she couldn’t really see more than his arm. Her view was blocked by the others in the queue but she could see the little girl—all foamy blond curls with ribbons in and a flounced dress of formidable pink, her nose was pleasantly upturned while her cheeks were rosy and vivacious. Jemma heard her daddy whisper something to the little girl and she began to bounce up and down, clapping her little hands with glee.

“YAY!” she called happily, wrapping her arms around her daddy’s neck. Jemma still couldn’t really see much but the back of his head as he stood with his daughter perched in the crook of his elbow, the girl’s tiny arms still wrapped around his neck.

Jemma was a bit touched, thoughts of a once-imagined future tugging unpleasantly at her heart. She tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand—at this point, baked goods—that was, until the man and his daughter passed her by, giving Jemma a good look at the man’s face.

Believing she was only seeing wishful thoughts brought to life, she stared after him as he went to sit at a small table with his daughter, settling her into a seat with her treat before he pulled out his mobile and began to sip his tea.

Tears had glazed her eyes before she finally accepted that what she was seeing was real. Stepping out of the queue, she took the few steps to be close enough that he might hear her.

@scaredandhungry

Of all the things you choose in life, you don't get to choose what your nightmares are. You don't pick them; they pick you. –John Irving

Mapping circuits in the control wafers, Fitz tried to remember how this was supposed to look. He used to have a picture of this in his head, he seemed to recall. His damaged brain had trouble recalling images now at times. He tossed the laser scanner down on his desk and then threw the wafer after it out of sheer frustration. He tried to tell himself to be patient, that it took time to recover from such a thing and he was lucky to be alive, but he didn’t really believe it. 

He was back to working in the lab now, though is was on something of a limited basis—he only had one project, to get the cloaking working on the Bus. Jemma had gone to visit her parents nearly two months ago now and he’d rearranged things so his workstation faced hers—or the empty spot where she used to work—his best friend. Two weeks ago, he’d called up her parents, just to see how she was getting on, only to discover that she wasn’t there. He didn’t know where she’d gone. Away from him, he supposed, his difficulties and unpleasantness. 

He was quite the grump these days; speaking was still a misery and his bad hand shook constantly. Really, he was incredibly useless, he couldn’t even complete the cloaking device. But he hadn’t been able to get his brain make sense of it. He knew what it was supposed to do, how it was supposed to function but making that happen—well, he wasn’t making it happen.

The worst time was night, when he tried to sleep. He’d lay there in the black and think. Though he wanted to believe he would get back to full capacity, the voice in his head told him he was never going to get there. He was just a cripple now, a weak link, and probably sooner, rather than later, Coulson would tell him to go. Then he’s be worse than useless, he’d also have nothing.

Oftentimes, he’d work late into the night like this, exhausting himself so that when he finally fell into bed, he wouldn’t have to think. He could just dream. Sometimes they were nice, being home in Scotland as a boy, safely reading about engineering or rocket ships with a mug of cocoa; or back at the Academy, watching Doctor who with the one person who’d singled him out as someone worth her time; or even on his own, tinkering with a project and knowing exactly what went where and how to make it do exactly as he wanted it to. The worst were the nightmares, the pod, or Ward chasing them. 

My muse has discovered that yours is in a coma. Send ¥ for what my muse would say to yours while visiting them at the hospital: (@scaredandhungry)

//Things that make me happy: (In no order)

1. Reading a good book and not being able to put it down.

2. My best friend/Grumpy Snake. :P

3. Sweaters!

4. My family and my dogs

5.Playing a good video game/ Watching a good movie/ Researching for a story or just an interesting topic.

@scaredandhungry

Leah didn’t enjoy having no base of her own and they kept bouncing her between New York and The Hub. Which wouldn’t be a problem if they at least gave her a point of interest somewhere but she was leaning towards missions from the Hub as it gave her larger headquarters to learn and explore. Her curiosity this time was fueled from the prospect of new weapons and decided to seek out the chem lab which she swore up and down the had.