[galgadotssss-deactivated2016071]

[brkholtz-blog]

akawhiskeyy:

Jessica paused, lock still in hand. “What career is that?” she asked, more than a little wary of the stranger. She didn’t seem like one of Jay’s henchmen, or like the men who’d come to pick up Simpson. But she couldn’t be too careful where IGH was concerned. She was following every lead she could, trying to track down exactly what had happened to her, how these three letters were involved. All she’d found so far was jack shit, but just enough to make certain they were dangerous. Even now. The last thing she needed was some stranger getting caught in the crossfire. “I usually work alone,” she said carefully, a warning threaded into her words. 

Why doesn’t she think before she fucking talks? There is wariness pouring off of this woman in waves; Tess forgets so easily her deadpanning doesn’t always work on strangers—and that off-the-cuff remark like that are a risk to her now that the ban is in place. She ducks her head, hoping to get lucky and it not be too obvious when she dodges the question. Probably not. But very quickly her gaze drags itself up again, almost of its own accord. Tess saw what that woman did to the lock. She doesn’t want that sort of force exerted on her.  

”Usually,” she echoes. ”Meaning there are exceptions.” She tosses her hair over a shoulder, folding her arms. “Look. Not gonna lie—ya scare me a little already.” Vulnerability. Let her think you are’t a threat. Not being recognized was a definite plus out here. “But I kinda need to be here, and I don’t really have time to wait until you’re done.” Tess shifts uncomfortably. She really is nervous: there was a lot of power folded just into that brief instant. Maybe if she’d stayed with SHIELD, she’d know who the hell this chick is. “So what’s it gonna be?” Is it a fight or not? Kind of shitty to think she might have to throw down just to understand even a fraction of Valentina’s vision—but, well, Garcia’s never really wrong.

[anshelinasholie]

i’m full of love but i’m not soft anymore

[brkholtz-blog]

when are you going to land?

@bw-dcrknight​

Nothing about the modern sophistication of the newest Wayne Tower suggests it might be cozy, but on the best of days, that’s what it is for her. Comfortable. Safe. Tess feels more at ease in Bruce’s office than she ever did in Fury’s—though that comparison may be a bit unfair, considering that the last time Wayne well and truly intimidated her was years ago, with the aid of a voice changer and a hell of a lot of extra bulk. (There will never come a time the thought of earning Fury’s ire doesn’t send a little chill rippling through her.)

Today, Bruce’s office isn’t comfortable—it’s empty. He’s late. Not enough to jeopardize an 8 o’clock if he had one, or anything at all, really, but late for him. He’s not scheduled to jet off to any meetings at the start of the day, but that might be more to her benefit than his; it means that when Bruce finally drags himself in, spine ramrod straight, body radiating the taut, subtle kind of pain she’s learned to recognize (and ignore to the best of her ability in herself), Tess lasts all of ten seconds before she’s following him inside his office. 

This is either gonna be a shitty conversation, or a useless one. Tess shuts the door behind herself gently and goes for it anyway.  “You look like you got mugged by Superman,” she says quietly, and okay, it’s not that bad, but the way it feels—that’s something else entirely.

[wnq-writers]

And she was truly a puzzle, but God forgive anyone who mistook her for a game.

Sophia Carey (via wordsnquotes)

[chunk-of-change-deactivated2018]

Visit Original Link

Nine Inch Nails - Every Day is Exactly the Same

[ingridsbergman]

“The beautiful English broad with the incomparable soprano and promiscuous vocabulary.”  -  Blake Edwards on Julie Andrews

[brkholtz-blog]

@@starspangledman, @gammaxpowered, @dianaxprinceex, @krptnborn, @bw-dcrknight

// you all have plots!! <3

[cptsdbaby]

it’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault it’s all my fault

[brkholtz-blog]

vultures in the playpen (past)

@aceofknaves, @hquinsel​, @bw-dcrknight

circa 2011

Tess doesn’t mean to kick the guy through the warehouse window—it just kind of happens. The way he’d pulled her hair pissed her off, but the heat of her anger is replaced by the cold shock of shattering glass and a cry of pain. She hit him too hard. The sound of his body hitting the ground is like a sack of bricks on pavement. There’s no noise afterward.

She hit him way too hard.

“Don’t be dead," she murmurs anxiously as she vaults through the window after him. “Don’t—" She skids to a halt. “Son of a bitch.” 

He’s moving, but that’s not the problem. There’s a dozen pairs of extra eyes staring her down. All of them armed, though Tess wasn’t aware people actually brought shit like monkey wrenches into fights. That seemed like more of a spontaneous thing, grabbed at the last second, not something you plan. And planned is exactly how this feels. But how?

...Fuck.

It’s Wednesday. She’s been through this part of the city—around this same time, no fucking less—every other night for a week. She’s gotten predictable, and the bill to pay for it is now due. What in the hell made her think settling in a city with a whole new set of unknowns—tackling a million different variables solo—was a good idea?

If she exhausts herself ending this fight quickly, she could just end up getting jumped on the way home.

This is gonna suck.

“Alright, boys,” she warns. “I know there’s only one of me, and I don’t look like much, but this is a baaad idea.” 

Movement catches her eye; she tenses, but nothing strikes, and she doesn’t spot the source. With the amount of people in this place, pulling them out of the crowd mentally would be like finding a lucky needle in a stack of needles—and that’s if she even saw anything worthy of alarm.

She’s more nervous than she sounds. This isn’t right. Why haven’t they moved yet? Why didn’t they pounce as soon as she came in through the window?

They’re waiting for something.

Someone.

A signal.

“Who sent you?” She doesn’t want to pull the answer from anyone’s head. This isn’t a good time to get distracted.

Besides, she has a feeling she’s about to find out.

[brkholtz-blog]

// i’m making the world’s laziest gifs~ like this post for a starter!

you know you want one.

[lanexlois-blog]

“I’m running on a deadline so you have about 30 seconds otherwise you need to be able to walk and talk.” She wasn’t trying to snap but the woman was busy and didn’t have the time to be interrupted for just any reason.

[brkholtz-blog]

“That is not the tone of a woman who remembers we had plans.” Her chuckle is genuinely amused, even if her expression looks a little defeated. Resigned, maybe. Tess isn’t a stranger to blunt behavior—she went from working with Nick Fury to Bruce Wayne. “And here I thought you’d be less busy without the Planet. I take it lunch is off?”

[akawhiskeyy-blog]

The lock was easy to snap. One quick tug – but she hadn’t counted on a witness. “What? It’s open now,”she murmured, turning around. 

[brkholtz-blog]

Tess snorts. "Where were you my entire career?" She rolls her shoulders, discomfort mounting. It was one thing to come here—one very stupid thing—on a hunch, to make the trek out thoughtlessly, mind quiet for once. It’s another to not be alone, caught under a pair of eyes that force her to admit what she’s doing here: following leads. Again. At least there isn’t a costume involved. She’s trespassing; that’s all. “You got here first.” She gestures toward the door. “After you.”

[strayxmarnie-deactivated2018012]

“Sorry to bother you, but, um,” Marnie tapped the person’s shoulder as she spoke, “I think you dropped this.”

[brkholtz-blog]

Tess stiffens at the contact, but it’s brief, separated by layers of clothing, and she’s already got her walls up to deal with the crowd. Nothing comes through, which is why a rebuttal is already on her lips when she turns and spots the necklace this (rather tiny, Lord) girl is holding. “Oh, no, that’s not—“ Her hand flies to her neck on reflex, fingers reaching for the vintage charm she’s been wearing off and on for half a century now. It’s not there. It is, in fact, in the girl’s hand. “Well, shit, kid,” she mutters. She hangs her head slightly, abashed. “You’re right.” 

Her steady tone doesn’t at all betray her suddenly racing heart. That is one of the only things she has left from her husband. She had the chain replaced before she moved. It’s not that old. Why hadn’t she noticed that it fell? Tess extends a hand to retrieve the lost piece of jewelry, but quickly retracts said hand at the sight of a tell-tale blue flicker winking near her fingertips. She nearly rolls her eyes. Instead, she purses her lips into a thin line, and then forces the most pleasant smile on her face she can muster. “Thank you so much. Is it broken?” 

[this-tragic-affair]

how do people not swear??? like where does their anger go?? how do they show their enthusiasm??? what if they stub their toe??? like saying golly gosh isn’t really gonna cut it barbara 

[builtthisschmidtyontootsierolls]

[colleenclarkart]

[brkholtz-blog]

colleenclarkart:

a small comic about tying up/tying together loose ends