fliss

of course i'm scared. i'm not wonder woman.

[cl0v3]

[felicitysheppard]

fynnxhochleitner:

“No, not really. While I’d never deny one usually, I feel like we have more urgent matters to follow. Like not dying.” He offered her a faint, lopsided smile. Fynn could be insufferable, obnoxious and a piece of shit but not even he would think about these things in a situation as dark as present. People often underestimated how observant he was. Thought it’d fly past the tall man’s head. But his eyes stayed rested on Felicity, the heaving of her chest, the bags under her eyes and clear sheen on her skin. He had seen her at total exhaustion and it wasn’t comparable to the wreck she was in in that moment. 

Someone that trained for hours without rest, without water or food, didn’t simply get tired and look like death itself. Maybe she was sick - it’d be just like Felicity to take a few pills and show up at work anyway. She was so used to fight her way through, she seemed to have forgotten that she herself needed care. Even the hardest of shells couldn’t exist without the softer parts being looked after. Blue eyes dropped to her hand, the blood, dirty wrappings made out of her shirt that didn’t entirely hold back bacteria. A strange match to his own, fresh wound. Fynn didn’t fight her as she took his hand but ripped it out of her grasp for his hands to rest on her shoulders. Grounding her.

“You need to slow down, Fliss. “ His words were almost pleading, unashamed of the concern lacing his deep voice. There was no way she would allow him to help her. Instead, it was Fynn that feigned exhaustion. His steps slowing, arm finding its way around her waist. He knew she wasn’t easily fooled. He knew she probably thought he was an idiot. And, in all honesty, Felicity wasn’t wrong. The man with the ridiculous name and strange hobbies barely recognized himself. Fighting for attention - he wasn’t used to that. Nor did he really waste his time on people that pushed him away. There were millions of individuals roaming the planet. He moved on. But not when it came to Felicity. Maybe the fact that she was so young, yet already acted like the world was nothing but bad. Now, she wasn’t wrong. People suck. He could agree on that. But for every bag of shit and lost opportunity, he saw new ones. New people, new chances, the possibilities life offered. A rough, hoarse laugh escaped Fynn as he held tightly onto her - supporting her as they walked down the tunnel. “No, I don’t have a magical ladder nor do I see one. But we might come across one. Newer, updated mines have elevators but these old ones should have emergency shafts located all around. We should find one somewhere down the line, don’t hold me to it, but that’s our best bet right now.”                                                                                      

“What do you mean?” she snapped as he told her to slow down. He was holding her by the shoulders, and she felt like she might fall over if he let go. She wanted to kick him into the wall, but barely had enough energy to breathe. They kept going, him holding her close as she put all her focus into putting one foot in front of the other.

“Emergency shafts,” she repeated, more to keep her focus on what he was saying than anything. She wanted to push him off of her, and climb up the walls, and pull out her hair, and scream. She hadn’t thought she was this dependent on a stupid drug. But she barely knew how to function without it now.

She stopped walking abruptly, shaking her head and putting her hands on her knees. “Hold on a minute, I just... I just need...” She coughed, and tried to stand up again, but stumbled into the wall. She could not remember ever feeling so helpless and frustrated in her life. She wasn’t like this; she never needed help, never needed anyone. She’d rather be going through this alone and die from it than have Fynn see her like this - weak.

She was pale, she could feel it. And cold. Maybe she was already dead. She tried again to stand and walk and be fine, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t. “Fuck...”

[emilyblunts]

[theinnerworkingsofnicksmind]

She was not soft. She smelled like cigarettes, leather, and ground black coffee. And when you inhaled, she burned your lungs the way that made you want to do it again. She was danger, and you wanted her.

[felicitysheppard]

fynnxhochleitner:

“She said go suck a dick.” In all honesty, the fact she knew a little German did quite shock him. Not enough to fall to certain death by breaking his stupid neck but enough to have him stare at Felicity for a solid moment.   Yet, enough to shift his mood in an instant. Instead of the scowl, Fynn spotted a grin. Despite the grim situation, the burning in the center of his palm and…in general just really shitty day. Sometimes, he did wonder how he always seemed to find her. It wasn’t intentional. Not always. Maybe he was a moth, following the light with no regards to whether his wings burned upon touched. 

Fynn got off his knees, wiping a bloody hand on his jeans with a disgusted grimace. Of course, it’d be Felicity to decide climbing a damn wall would be a grant idea. How could he have thought it’d be anyone but her? She probably looked at the wall and found a new challenge in it, had it not been for the fact they had no way out of that mine anyway. But, low and behold, the air was already better. Not good, but not as stale and…heavy as further down. “Don’t look so pissed. If you get lost and die, at least the face you saw last was a good one. Aka, mine. No pun intended.” 

Once he stood and got a proper look at her, his brows creased in concern. She may not have eaten in a while or had any water …or sleep, but so had he. And while he couldn’t see his face, he doubted heavily he looked as fucked. Which, being the one that didn’t spend all day working out but working on eating as much as humanly possible, was a damn surprise. He didn’t comment on it, though. Just shrugged it off. Usually, he would press. He would continue to ask and dig because that was the way he worked but this time, he let it slide without a word.

“Answer D, all of the above. But whatever. Are you hurt? Stupid question, you scaled that wall like a goat. Which, if you are and have any relations to Satan, I’ll sell my soul if that means getting out of this shithole.” The elder sighed loudly, then started walking ahead. “Come, kleine. We don’t have all day to get out.”

“Is that what you came up here for,” Fliss said, wanting to smirk, but not having the energy. Besides, he’d probably see it as an invitation. Sometimes her snarky remarks were a subtle form of invitation that only Fynn could recognize, but today was not one of those times. Today she was dizzy and angry and her skin was crawling with craving.

“Thank you for that uplifting thought. I’m going to die of starvation and tetanus and the last thing I’ll see is your arrogant smirk.” She ran out of breath partway through that sentence and tried to hide it, but from the way he was looking at her, she could tell he knew something was up. She was probably in the best physical health of anyone on this damn crew, had more stamina than all of them even when she was sober (which he knew better than anyone); he wouldn’t believe for a second that she was simply tired.

She didn’t entirely like the way he was looking at her. Like he could see her. He always looked at her like that, but it was more intense now. Because there was a weakness she always had hidden away that was showing on the surface now. She was easier to see. The truth wasn’t concealed. She suddenly wanted to jump back down into the lower level, but she also, for some reason, wanted to kiss him, but she was too dizzy to do either, so she scowled instead.

“I cut my hand, but it’s fine,” she said. It wasn’t fine. She’d ripped half her sleeve off to tie around the wound and it was already bleeding through. Whatever had cut her had a hundred years of rust on it. She’d had much worse injuries, but she was so far from a medic now. She narrowed her eyes, noticing a similar cut on his palm. She sighed, and ripped off part of her other sleeve, and stumbled over to him, gently wrapping the cloth around his hand. She felt a rush of dizziness after, and had to place her hands on his chest to steady herself. She cleared her throat and stepped back.

“How do you plan to get out?” she asked, following him - more slowly than she would have liked, but she wasn’t about to tumble back down there again. “If you know about a starwell and you’ve kept it to yourself, I might kill you.”

[felicitysheppard]

fynnxhochleitner:

Did he fall gracefully? Nope. Had he been knocked out for what felt like days but had actually been only minutes? Possibly. Granted, as Fynn got up he felt like he had been hit by a truck. Face first. His back ached, his knees hurt and he hated the world. How on earth could anyone decide to set up camp over a fucking mine? Someone clearly needed to be fired - or shot. Both worked for him as, for what seemed like ever, Fynn was pissed. “Hello? Anyone around this fucking shithole?” He shouted as he brushed the wet mud off his hands, quietly cursing and grumbling to very much himself.

The hole above was…well, fucking above them. The earth had sunken deep enough to make climbing out of there impossible and no one seemed to really hear him either. “Toll. Ich sitz in einemverdammten Loch fest. Heute morgendachte ich noch; hey Fynn, bleib im Hotel. Du wirstheute sowiesonichtgebraucht. Aber nein, ich mussteja antanzen.” When Fynn fell back into his mothertongue - he really was angry. And really, he almost had stay in his suite. Sleeping late, enjoying a day off because no one needed him on set. The scene filmed didn’t require any CGI or shit. 

In all fairness, as he saw someone climb up a wall leading to an upper level, he didn’t think much of it. It really could’ve been anyone, but that sufficed. Anyone was better than no one and if they thought climbing up a wall was a good idea, who was he to judge? Now, Fynn worked out. He wasn’t a fat, my little pony loving computer nerd that jerked off to furries. He jogged, he did some hiking, liked camping out in the middle of nowhere with the most minimal of tools just for the fucks of it. Had a weird kink for survival training. But scaling a steep wall was not his militia. Whoever did so before him must’ve been a monkey. Or a mountain goat, really, he wasn’t sure which one of those to pick. His hand slipped as suddenly, Felicity’s voice spoke up out of nowhere. A hiss fell over his lips at the stinging pain spreading in his palm, an annoyed glance shot upward to the woman. “Having a fucking picnic with my grandma. What do you think?” He snapped back as Fynn, as quickly as possible, finished the last quarter of the forsaken wall.  Hating his life more and more with each crackling stone he pushed himself off of or up with. 

Finally, the man reached her. Well, fell to her knees loudly panting, to be precise. He looked up at Felicity, who seemed…a little more out of it than usual. Really, out of it. “What is up with you? I thought scaling walls is your hobby but you look worse than I do.”

“Tell your Oma I say wie geht’s,” she deadpanned, sighing and sitting down on a fallen tree. This was all ridiculously surreal. Lately, her entire life had been ridiculously surreal. She kept finding herself in bed with a man she couldn’t stand. She kept finding herself everywhere with him. Even in a labyrinthian mine, abandoned for years, with what seemed to be hundreds of crumbling tunnels, he’d managed to find her. Like a magnet.

He fell to his knees panting, and she was too tired to even make a dirty joke. She narrowed her eyes at his words. She hadn’t looked in a mirror since the makeup trailer however many hours ago, and her phone was smashed to bits, but she didn’t need to look at herself to know she was pale and clammy. Some people got like that when they were afraid. Most people would assume Fliss was afraid now. But he knew better.

She rolled her eyes, fixing her posture, pretending to be fine. She couldn’t very well tell him why she was feeling homicidal and exhausted all at once. She looked at him and wondered if she would kill him if he was in the way of her and coke. If he danged it above her head like he enjoyed doing with whatever she needed at any given moment. She decided she wouldn’t. She’d kick him in the balls, though.

“Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t eaten all day, or seen any form of water that wasn’t filled with mud, moss or god-knows-what. Maybe I’m tired. Maybe I fell into a fucking hole in the ground today. You have choices as to why I don’t look like a fucking Disney Princess, Fynn. Pick one.”

[felicitysheppard]

@fynnxhochleitner

It had been too long. At first, Fliss hadn't exactly minded the fall into the mine. Sure, it fucked up literally everything, but at least it was an adventure. As dangerous as her job was, Fliss got bored of routine easily. She’d thought the trip out to film in the forest would be enough excitement, but she hadn’t accounted for falling through the earth. The excitement wore off after about n hour, however, when she began craving, uncontrollably, the beautiful snow white powder she’d grown to need.

The crash was intense. More intense than she remembered, but that might have been because she was stuck in a pit without any access to her beloved drug. She was miserable, and irritable, and exhausted, and she needed to get out of here before she murdered the entire cast and crew.  The walls were mud and dirt and rusted metal, but she tried to climb in multiple spots befpre she found a place that worked. 

Worked isn’t the right word. By the time she got to the top, her limbs were numb, her hands were bloody, and she felt like she could sleep for ninety years. And the worst part was, she wasn’t even at the top. She’d simply reached a higher level of hell. Hearing a scraping noise below her, she looked over the edge to see Fynn climbing up after her. “For fuck’ sake, Hook-Frightner, what are you doing?” she asked, barely noticing how slow and slurred her speech was becoming.

[felicitysheppard]

🛌🎀🎐🛋📱🕹🏚🌋⛪️🛣🐺🤝🎖🎟🎠

🛌- Does your muse prefer to sleep under many layers of blankets or only under a few?

Girl sleeps naked so she needs a warm blanket. But not a lot of them, unless it’s particularly cold.

🎀- Does your muse like to accessorize? What are their favorite pieces of accessories?

Not usually? Jewelry and stuff get in the way. She accessorises with her tattoos.

🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything?

Tattoos, vinyl records, sports bras, one night stands.

🛋- Does your muse like to have company over?

No. Although, it depends what you mean by ‘company’. If they’re leaving before breakfast, then sure.

📱- Is your muse the “oversharing” type?

No.

🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored?

Works out, does coke, drives around, goes to the bar, some mixture of all of the above.

🏚- Does your muse like to explore dangerous places?

God, yes. Danger is her middle name. (No it’s not, it’s Nora)

🌋- Has your muse done something stupid and not regret it?

That’s her job.

⛪️- Does your muse enjoy attending churches they don’t belong to?

I don’t think she’s ever been in a church.

🛣- Is your muse considered a wanderer?

Kind of. I think even if her job didn’t involve travel she wouldn’t stay in one place very long.

🐺- Would your muse consider themselves a lone wolf or a social butterfly?

Lone wolf, definitely.

🤝- Does your muse forgive others easily?

No. Queen of Grudge Holding.

🎖- Does your muse enjoy praise?

Kind of makes her uncomfortable, she’s not used to it, but if it’s about certain things or from certain people she might even smile a little.

🎟- Do they like “so bad it’s good” movies?

Most horror and action movies are ‘so bad it’s good’ movies, so yeah.

🎠- Does your muse like amusement parks/carnivals/festivals?

No. Not usually. Unless it’s Halloween and they turn the whole park into a haunted maze, she lives for that shit.

[felicitysheppard]

🏝🐰

🏝- Could your muse survive on an uninhabited island all by themselves?

This is her dream life.

🐰- Does your muse prefer soft, plush textures or smooth and glossy textures?

Smooth and glossy. Leather and silk and anything shiny. You will never see her around pastels at all, or wearing anything fluffy.

[stassischroeder]

[felicitysheppard]

fynnxhochleitner:

“Because that makes sense to you. You know how to react, how to get yourself out of that shit without breaking your neck. People aren’t that simple. You can’t jump’n’roll away from them. Well, technically, you can. But the damage they can do is far worse because you don’t know how to fix it. It’s quite simple, actually. The mind works in magical ways.” He was speaking so nonchalantly, completely relaxed in the seat of hers, reaching out for the bottled water on her desk. The type they charged five bucks for, while it was just cooled tab water. Fynn took a swig anyway. “Shattered windows, crash cars, fighting. That makes sense to you. Everything beyond or below doesn’t. Am I right?” The flicker of a smirk appeared on the elders face, soon to disappear behind the bottle of water again as narrowed eyed watched intently as Felicity lowered her hair. 

“No worries. I’ll be the last person to order peanuts. Get me close to that shit and I’ll swell like a fucking sponge in water. At least neither of us will ever experience why everyone seems so obsessed with peanut butter in this country. Would be a good idea for the last meal, should we ever end up on death row. But I appreciate the please. Didn’t know that word’s part of your vocabulary, ” Despite the menu being propped up on his knees and his head tilted gen south, Fynns eyes remained on her. Relaxing bit by bit, sneaking a glance at him in return. It never failed to surprise him how fit she was. Well, knowing the way she went ham on her work outs, it really shouldn’t surprise him at all. How she even had the persistence to keep going was beyond him. Sure, Fynn wasn’t lazy himself. But he did the bare minimum not to get fat for all the sitting his job requires and then some for pleasure and fun. Never had he, not once, forgotten to eat for a whole day because of training. It was a little concerning, not necessarily because he thought she was taking anything rather than the belief that she was dealing with some rough shit through…punching the living crap out of punching bags.

After he finished ordering their food, he pushed himself off the leather seat. The opened door didn’t go unnoticed by him - she really was trying to drive him mad. Instead of following through with what she, probably, had thought or planned, he just stood with his back resting against the doorframe. Didn’t really try to hide the fact that his eyes certainly didn’t stay on her face. “Cute mole, Balt imore.” 

Felicity didn't take her eyes off of Fynn’s for a moment. “You don’t know me. So you can wipe that smirk off your face,” she said. “Do you think there’s something for me to be scared of, here? Do you think I’m in danger of falling in love with you? I know you think highly of yourself, Hoof-Whitener, but I can promise you that I am very safe from that particular hazard.”

Instead of joining her in the shower, like she knew he wanted to, he leant against the door frame - whether to tease her, or himself, she didn’t know. “You could see it better from over here... there are lots of things you could see better from over here,” she smirked, sliding the shower curtain across, creating a barrier between them again. 

She sighed happily. The hot water hitting her skin felt like heaven. In this state, everything felt like heaven. She was pretty sure she could probably fly. “Get in here, Duesseldorf!” she called to him. She didn't actually know if that’s where he was from, but it was fun to say. “My muscles are sore, I need a massage.”

[felicitysheppard]

fynnxhochleitner:

“Scared.” Fynn replied as though it was nothing. He said nothing as she pressed the button to her room, didn’t really care either. They were identical rooms, same layout, same damn furniture. And hell, they lived in a hotel. It couldn’t be more cliché when it came to hook ups. “Your rules? Schatz, I don’t go by anyones rules. Whether it’s your bed, mine, the fucking hotel owners own private little bedroom, the stupidly tiny table in the hallway - I don’t care.” The elder pushed himself off the wall, eyes ever so slightly narrowed.  Nothing about them was according to the rules of how it was supposed to go. And, despite him being the one making the advances, testing the limits, he wasn’t about to throw out his own, single rule. No rules.

Soon again, the corners of his lips lifted. Maybe he did see something that wasn’t entirely there yet. Someone that only needed a small push - well, in her case, a proper kick - to get out of her shell. Someone that showed her the highs and lows that came with life, manic days and depressing nights alike. Freedom to let down ones guard to live. “Jesus turned water into wine or something, who wouldn’t want that? And he walked on water - or parted the red sea? I’ve never actually read the bible. Until God introduces himself personally, I’ll pass on that shit.” He shrugged. For a moment, Fynn stayed still in the elevator. A brief second he wondered whether it really was the best of ideas to go through with their plans. Running after a girl was never his thing. But this one, hell, she was…something. An unreadable code. A Cesar code - the answers to her weren’t in alphabetic order. They were shifted, one had to carefully read between the lines, assemble the letters and figure out their meaning.

Before the doors closed, he stepped out after her. “What if this already is hell?” Although always eager to argue, this time, he didn’t. She hadn’t had anything since breakfast and while was all too ready to skip to the part they actually went to her room for, he knew better. “Alright. Anything you don’t like or are allergic to? I’m gonna get myself a burger, want one too?” A warm hand briefly brushed along her arm as the blonde walked past her, grabbing the hotel phone and menu before loudly plopping down onto one of the seats present. “Don’t hesitate calling if you need help!”

The word hit her like a punch to the gut, but she didn’t react. He wanted her to react. To show that she was scared. She was, of course, but as she didn’t know what the hell she was so scared of, she didn’t think about it. “I get paid to jump through shattering windows and crash cars,” she said calmly. “Why would I be scared of you?”

She hadn’t expected him to react so strongly to the word rules. She wanted to fight him - she always wanted to fight him - but hatred of regulations and authority was something about him she could finally relate to. She smirked at his narrowed eyes. “How are you suposed to break the rules if there aren’t any?”

“I’m allergic to peanuts,” she said, shrugging off the leather jacket and laying it across the back of a chair. “Don’t use that to try to kill me, please.” She took her hair down, letting it fall in waves around her shoulders. “A burger sounds good,” she said, marvelling at how at home he looked in her room. This man looked at home everywhere.

She shook her head and went into the bathroom, locking the door. She began running the water as she searched in the hidden compartment of the cabinet for what she needed. The exhaustion of working out for so long was starting to get to her and she needed a lift. It was both surprising and sad to her to notice how quickly she could line up and snort two lines of this crap. But she instantly felt the familiar numbness and excitement, and smiled, eyes closed, letting herself be happy.

She took off her clothes and, with a smirk, unlocked the door, even opening it a crack before heading into the shower.

[that-thinspo-blog]

[felicitysheppard]

fynnxhochleitner:

Hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans, Fynn waited. For what exactly, he wasn’t entirely sure. Something just told him to stay for a second longer, despite her tirade. The explicit description of all the shit she would do without him. Granted, Fynn was a lot but not having the guts to get on someones nerves was not part of that list. He’d always been annoyingly persistent. How else was life supposed to be livable, if one didn’t pursue what they wanted? And in their case, he wanted her. And it actually worked for some reason.

He had caught up to her within seconds. The booming laughter of the man filled the empty gym, as it usually did with any room. He was unapologetically obnoxious - even if he didn’t try to. “Sure, if calling me a sad puppy makes it is easier to sleep at night. Maybe you are the sad puppy, trying desperately to run from me because you’re…well, you know, the terrible s -word you hate so much because someone like you never feels that way.” Broad shoulders were shrugged as Fynn stepped into the elevator - making sure to grab her hand and drag her along. With Felicity, he never knew if she’d suddenly run for the hills. He reached over, pressed the button his room was on before relaxing back against the wall, head leaned back as hooded eyes stared at her in silence for a moment. His mouth opened, the bright grin dropped for once as if he wanted to say something serious for the first time.

“Actually, I could be Jesus’ distant cousin. I’m really hairy so I can grow a good beard and I’m Jewish. Ashkenazi, technically, but who reads the fine print?”

“What S word?” she snapped. “Snarky? Strong? Skilled? Selfish? Sexy? Because I have no trouble admitting I am all of the above.” She hoped to God he didn’t mean ‘sad’. Or worse - smitten. She could vomit at the thought of either word. She didn’t have time to wonder, however, because he grabbed her hand and dragged her into the elevator, presumptuously pressing the button for his floor. Hers was two floors below, so she quickly pressed that button instead, turning sharply to where he leant, annoyingly comfortably, against the wall. “I told you. My room. My rules. Got that?”

He was staring. She felt like he could see through her, to whatever dusty skeleton of a person was left inside the shell of armour she’d worn her whole life. She had no idea what he could possibly see - even she didn’t know (or like) herself. He looked at her as though he were about to propose something ridiculous, but he just spouted some nonsense instead, causing her to roll her eyes. “Literally everyone has Ashkenazi Jewish ancestry, Hoot-Frightener. You’re not special. Even if you were, why would I want to fuck Jesus’ cousin?” She thought about that for a moment before the elevator dinged, and let them out - on her floor.

She shrugged as she walked out. “Well, I’m going to hell anyway.” She got her key out of her gym bag, making no effort to turn to see if he was following her, but listening for his footsteps subconsciously, anyway. “Order me room service while I shower,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him as she opened the door.

[manips-for-you-all]

[felicitysheppard]

Scarlett Johansson and her stunt double, Fliss Sheppard.

[felicitysheppard]

[dcmultiverse]

I’m marrying that woman. Yeah.