Run little lion,

Kate Austen. FINISHED SERIES Indie roleplayer /

[vetica]

THEMED PARTY . CHALLENGE 13 . LOST

[vanessacarlysle]

[elenagilbertedmoved]

[frcckled-deactivated20180312]

                                                                  why are you always running?

[wecouldgodutch]

“Girls, romanticize yourselves. You are a queen. You are a warrior. You are an enchantress. You are a mermaid. You are a goddess. You are all of these things and more, you are the stuff of fairy tales. Women, traumatize others. You are a dragon. You are a wolf. You are a bump in the night. You are the last thing they see in the darkness. You are all of these things and more, you are the heart of their fucking nightmares.” [insp.]

[jack-shphard-blog]

[lostdaily]

Listen…Do you have a second? I could use a little help here.

[exorcismarchive-blog]

archer sentence meme

i have to go. but if i find one single dog hair when i get back, i’ll rub…sand…in your dead little eyes.

do you think this is a game?

sorry, i was picturing whore island.

you’re looking for the answer “yes”?

do not wind her up. that is a big gun & she is baby crazy.

the thought of me dying gives you an erection?!

do you want ants? because that’s how you get ants!

oh, i’m crazy?  you’re the one who killed a perfectly good hooker.

do you really want to open this can of trust-breachy worms right after i just caught you & my ex-boyfriend with a dead hooker in the trunk?

yeah, she’s kind of weird that way.

yeah, she’s kind of weird a bunch of ways.

call kenny loggins…‘cuz you’re in the danger zone.

you said no dates.

um, phrasing?

all I’ve had today is, like, six gummy bears & some scotch.

wow. forgot how much i hate that.

oh my god, you like…sneeze glitter.

we bought those for him & if you throw them off the roof i will fly to new york & fling acid in your face.

hmm, or you could be a sarcastic bitch your whole life.

i’m sorry, are you addressing me? because your authority is not recognized in fort kickass.

why is your instinctive response to run toward explosions?

your clothes. give them to me!

i wouldn’t be caught dead in a sweater-vest! 

i’m sorry, did you say “incapacitated”?

he’s a master chef! which, turns out, is not nearly as gay a job as i thought it was. i mean, it’s no secret agent, but it’s way above architect.

SMOKE FIGHT! WOOOO!

what? It was either this or the vespas. it’s not my fault italy’s so gay!

do you wanna finish that thought?

do you wanna shut your big, fat, negative-wordsy mouth?!

get me some poison, because i am already dead inside.

sploosh!

[hermionelodges]

[freckledausten-blog]

insp.

[brokenbleu-blog]

                                ▲ IT’S ENDLESS. ▼

[ilsafausts]

[infansmedicum]

   As the days passed and there had been no sign of Kate, Juliet    started to grow increasingly worried. If she wound up to be fine,    Juliet told herself she would kill her herself just for making her    worry so much. As the days turned into weeks, the blonde    decided that it was clear something had happened. 

         With her bag full of food, water and basic medical supplies,          Juliet slung it over her shoulder. Just as she was headed          into the jungle, she felt an hand clasp around her wrist. 

                ‘Juliet ——— where are you headed?’ 

        The blonde turned, eyes meeting with Jack. ‘Kate’s missing,         someone’s got to go out and find her,’ she answered in a calm         monotonous voice even though she was beyond worried. Jack         shook his head and chuckled. 

                ‘It’s Kate we’re talking about here, she can handle herself.                 I’m sure she’s fine, you know how she likes to run off.’ 

        Juliet pulled her arm away from his grasp, furrowing a brow at him.                                                          ‘This is different.’

[freckledausten-blog]

  Each day was different. Each day was a different kind   of torture. Kate didn’t get it. Not one bit. The first few   days had been hell, they didn’t give her water. The   blow to the head had been brutal, constant headache.   Her hair was crisp from the dried up blood. They had   questioned her. Asked her why she was there. Why   she just had to go lookin’ for answers. A week passed,   she wouldn’t talk, so they left her to roast outside until   her skin felt so raw she wanted to cry out, but she won’t.   Kate won’t give them that satisfaction. 

  She lost count at how many days, hell-- weeks passed.   One of the men slipped, mentioned a Ben Linus. It   always comes down to Ben. There’s at least six of them.   Then it goes down to three, and then two. None of them   return, curious as to why. The main one, tall-- blue eyes,   Kate can’t stand that one. He hits her. Hard. It reminds   her of the time when her father used to her her own   mom. And she wonders, if anyone is even looking for her.

[ofmiidnight]

                                    Well, there’s ONE thing:                                     they can’t  order  me to                                     stop                dreaming. 

[sxwyerford]

☤- One of our muses is hurt.

“ You alright there freckles? “ He stood up off the sand and made his way over to her. 

[freckledausten-blog]

sxwyerford:

“ I might not be the smartest of the bunch but I can tell when you’re lyin’ to me. “

  ‘Seriously, Sawyer, I’m   fine. Just quit it.’

[freckledausten-blog]

                                                 ❛  ------ Born to run.

[freckledausten-blog]

infansmedicum

  No one was surprised when she offered   to go find the french woman, hoping that   maybe she would have some answers   about the island. Ben was useless. He   worshiped the island. Kate needed to    find her, and fast. A few days into searching   high and low in the forest, she stumbles--   tripping, finding her grounds, she turns her   cheeks, looking at what she tripped over.

Karl and Danielle. A muffled cry comes out   of her mouth, clean shots to their heads.   There were armed men on the island.    How in the hell-- how was that even possible?   Quickly getting on all fours, at an attempt at   getting up, someone’s grabbing her by her   ponytail a cry out leaves her mouth, a blow   to her head has her back on the ground,   the last thing she hears is the male’s words   before blacking out.

                                  ‘Can’t tell your pals now.’

[freckledausten-blog]

MEET THE MUN

Name: ashley Birthday: april 6th Ethnicity: white Gender: a shhhhe Pronouns: she/her  Sexual orientation: gay as can get. Occupation: i’m a spy Hidden talent: super awesome at sassing people Relationship status: single as fuck Eye Color(s): hazel Hair Color(s): brown ish idk Height: 5’0 Weight: it’s between 110 Scars: a crap ton. Physical illnesses: uh none. Hogwarts house: all of them. but ravenclaw.