❛ Today I'm Kinda Feelin' Like A ( GHOST ). Call My Friends , But Ain't Nobody HOME. Tell Myself I'm

im gonna take your thought and fling it into the air team rocket style @matryochka

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭

❝ i’m fine. just... blurry. ❞

❝ how long have i been awake? ❞

❝ i’m not even tired anymore. that’s the scary part. ❞

❝ sorry, what were you saying? i spaced out. ❞

❝ do my eyes look as bad as they feel? ❞

❝ i swear i just blinked. was that a nap? ❞

❝ i think my thoughts are melting. ❞

❝ caffeine is basically my blood type at this point. ❞

❝ i can’t tell if i’m hallucinating or dreaming with my eyes open. ❞

❝ i should sleep. but if i stop, i’m afraid i won’t start again. ❞

❝ don’t let me fall asleep here. seriously. ❞

❝ i’m running on fumes and bad decisions. ❞

❝ every time i close my eyes, it feels like i’m falling. ❞

❝ i forgot what rested feels like. ❞

❝ if i sleep, i’ll miss everything. ❞

❝ i’m too tired to be mad… so congrats, i guess. ❞

❝ i can’t think straight. not with this fog in my head. ❞

❝ my body’s here, but the rest of me checked out hours ago. ❞

❝ sleep is a luxury i can’t afford right now. ❞

❝ i think i’m dreaming. wait... am i dreaming? ❞

❝ my nightmares are waiting for me. i’d rather stay awake. ❞

❝ i need to rest, but resting feels like surrender. ❞

❝ there’s no peace when i close my eyes. ❞

❝ i’m scared to sleep. i’m scared of what’s waiting in the dark. ❞

❝ i can’t stop. if i do, everything falls apart. ❞

❝ don’t ask if i’m okay—just lie with me for a little while. ❞

❝ i didn’t mean to snap. i’m just... so tired. ❞

❝ sleep doesn’t help anymore. it just delays the crash. ❞

❝ the world feels louder when you haven’t slept. ❞

❝ i’m unraveling, thread by thread. ❞

❝ every second awake feels like it’s clawing at my brain. ❞

❝ i’m afraid if i close my eyes, you’ll be gone when i wake up. ❞

❝ i’ve been running on survival mode for too long. ❞

❝ this isn’t living, this is drifting. ❞

❝ sometimes being awake hurts less than the dreams. ❞

❝ i don’t know if i’m tired or if i’m just... done. ❞

❝ my thoughts keep looping like a broken record. ❞

❝ i keep thinking maybe i’ll rest when it’s all over. ❞

❝ i can’t sleep. not when you’re still hurting. ❞

❝ i keep waiting for morning, but it never comes. ❞

❝ my body aches like grief. ❞

❝ i’m holding on. barely. ❞

❝ i’m so tired, i forgot why i started this. ❞

Because we know in the comics she's in and out of stasis for near 21 years only being let out for assignments/assassinations and experimental procedures. I am convinced they are talking about project: changeling

When melina talks about a project in conjuction with the winter soldier project and she mentions about a brain being dissected and reconstructed and I can't help but imagine how that was Yelizaveta

SLENDER DIGITS MOVE WITH PRACTICED EASE; methodical, focused. The only sign she’s even heard Ellie is the slight tightening of her grip as she slides the cloth long the barrel of her weapon.

“Because I was the last one he spoke to.” She says it without inflection. Like reading it off a page. A quiet beat follows. Yeliza sets the pistol down across the table in front of her. Her eyes flick up only once — just a glance — to confirm Ellie’s still standing there. Then back to work.

“He didn’t say anything useful, ” she continues, tone even. “ But he wasn’t right. He didn’t look at me the way he usually does. ” Now she sets the cloth aside. Finally meets Ellie’s gaze briefly. No challenge in it, but no warmth either. Just truth, calm and clipped.

She doesn’t say I told him not to go. Doesn’t say I knew something was off. That part stays buried " whatever it is, ” she finishes, voice low, “ he walked into it with his eyes open. ”

｡･:*:･ﾟ🐬 SHE PROBABLY SHOULDN'T BE HERE .. but she didn't know who else to ask. she lingers near the doorway , arms crossed over her chest. ❝ because you were the last person he spoke too. ❞ bucky was a big boy , he could handle himself - but ellie's gut was telling her something was wrong.

private,  indie,  selective,  E L I Z A V E T A O S B O R N, M A Y H E M  “ the  reason  i  tell  that  story  is  that  history  mustn’t  forget  that  i’m  the  bad  guy”  of  marvel  comics  earth  982  &&  616.  heavily  headcanon  based  with  some  mcu  influences.  W E B B E D  B Y  Y A M ,   mid-20s ,  she/they.   A  S T U D Y  O N:   loss  of  innocent  ,  ptsd  &&  the  darkness  within

In and out of stasis until she was 21. Between helping train widows in the red room and her own assignments/assassinations and upgrades. Really does something to a girl.

listen . . . eliza really is a cryptid. hear me out. from afar, there is nothing special about her: your eyes do not linger, almost as if compelled to look away, to forget her. it’s only up close, and when she allows you to, that you find out there is something . . . different about her. she’s almost too beautiful --------- the way she carries herself is effortless, like her body doesn’t react to things the way bodies should. it’s the blink and you miss it kinda thing, a weird reflection in ice blue eyes, a smile with too many teeth, fangs sharp and ready. your body knows she is danger before your mind does.

I often think about how the KGB controlled Eliza, and it wasn’t easy. She was dangerous even when she was young — incredibly smart && unpredictable if they didn’t keep her in check. So, they put an inhibitor in the base of her spine, hidden so deep you’d need surgery to even find it. If she ever tried to mess with it, it would hit her with electric shocks bad enough to drop her instantly.

And that still wasn’t enough for them. When they sent her out on missions, she wore a stealth suit — all tactical and black, with a mask akin to the winter soldier’s. But the real kicker was the earpiece within the mask. they built in a micro sonic cannon, and if she ever disobeyed, they could trigger it remotely and knock her out before she even knew what was happening.

but the thing is, she didn’t often need controlling. Eliza grew up inside four walls. She was trained to be loyal to Russia before she even knew what loyalty meant. These were more precautions a means to control the beast within.

Seventeen - Sharon Van Etten

A KISS TO THE TEMPLE, FAMILIAR AND GENTLE; practiced she doesn’t lean into it. Doesn’t soften. Just sits there — spine straight, eyes fixed on the page in front of her, slender fingers hover near the corner, unmoving. Not flipping the page. Not yet.

“ You cancelled without asking me. ” not an accusation — a notation. Voice flat. Cool. Observational. Like she’s logging the moment for later dissection. Like she’s been logging a lot of things lately.

Chin lifts slow as brow arches in that way that says she’s already caught the shift and she’s just waiting to see if he’s going to lie about it.

“ thought we didn’t change plans. Not unless there was a reason. ”

Her gaze drops — not to his face, but to his hands. Just his hands. The way they move over the desk — too smooth. Too deliberate. Like choreography, not habit. Silence stretches in the space between them. She lets it. Lets it breathe. Sees how he fills it.

“ you cooking for me, or keeping me inside ?? ” A thread pulled — light on the surface, but the weight is there. Tucked just beneath the delivery. Not a joke. Not really. Just testing the water for cracks in the reflection.

Her fingers drum once — just once — against the side of her leg. A quiet slip. The kind of tell she’d normally scold herself for. Sharp inhale, composure rethreaded, neat and sharp.

Then, softer than the rest, like it wasn’t meant to cut but it still might, “ ... you always move like that when you’re lying ”

smiles and footsteps alike are another part of the new batch of things to be choreographed around james's wife. he cranes his head down as he stands behind her chair , hand resting just at the crook of her neck as he presses a kiss to her temple. soft. from here he can sense the air of suspicion that has only grown stronger since he'd returned from the inner circle.

“ you hurt me , “ a teasing lilt juxtaposes the sharpness of her own blade. he pulls away and circles her chair to face her now , resting his weight against the desk. eyes flicker , scan , over open folders. names. dates. recent whereabouts. one hand closes a folder , nudging it neatly into a stack of papers opposite him. “ i know it's sunday — our day — but i was thinking we could stay in tonight , let me cook dinner for us. “ words leave evenly as he casts a sideglance to may as if to watch her reaction.

but that was the catch , wasn't it ? that she could just as easily read james as he could read her. “ i cancelled our dance date with tom an‘ louise. promised them a raincheck an‘ a drink. “