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EXPECTATIONS
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@qvicksilvcr-blog
For being so nice and cute, copy this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the GAME going and make others feel beautiful! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
OMF <3 thank you sweets !! ILY ;;; you’re so awesome. -clings to forever-
*stands up on my soap box* listen here, folks ! it comes to my attention that rpers are getting shit for how they choose to write ON THEIR BLOGS. it is okay for you to dislike purple prose, it is not okay for you to shit on somebody else for using it. everyone's writing style is unique, and it is (their) choice in how they want to express it. wanna be simplistic? great! wanna use purple prose? great! wanna use big words? awesome! ain't nobody can tell you what you can and cannot fuckin' use. and honestly, i’m tired of seeing purple prose being shit on in general because just about every writer uses the shit in some degree or form. maybe not as heavily as others---- but. the majority of us do use it, either in elaborate word choice or description or whatever.
❪★ ❫ ❛—- oh my god, shut up.❜ vocals form on breathless notion, lungs actually BURNING for the expanse of oxygen lost upon the sprint, trying ( oh god, how he tried ) to keep up with the furious speedster that had been gracious enough to slow to a halt. stamina could be maintained for hours, days at a push within asset-molded veins, but lagging behind had created COMPETITION. boots had pounded against the concrete, heightened exertion, pushing limits, until now bucky was bent over, hands against his knees whilst he breathed much needed air back within his chest. pietro providing an unknowing training session that threatened to bring the soldier flat on his back, optics closed, relaxation prominent as temptation formed to take a nap.
( damn - maybe he was an ‘old man’ after all ).
❛kids these days always —- wanting to show off.❜
❛ you aren’t going to hit me with a back in my day speech, are you?❜ a playful chide at the soldier's age, lip curling in faint amusement as he watched the scene unfold itself, weight shifting in impatience; an unconscious, subtle side-effect to the serum bedded beneath his skin, lacing the hollows of his bones. azure irises are a flicker of movement, concern threatening to display itself on an otherwise nonplussed canvas.
❛ do you need me to call life-alert?❜ another well-placed jab, a blur of footsteps brought him closer. when the very nature of a tornado was buried in your muscles, carving hollow through your veins, it was hard to temper what was so easily acclimated; which only further fueled his short, impulsive demeanor.
❛ so, d’he mission------ i am supposed to radio after i’ve cleared the building, yes? ❜
❛ let’s start with never, quickstop. ❜ and there it is; the question he’d been receiving for three days straight now. perhaps it was just wishful thinking, to assume the pestering would stop after the second ‘no’. he’s not just going to lend out his gear and just hope it doesn’t end up destroyed. ❛ better luck next time. ❜
❛ even supervised--- ? d'ey're only equipment. ❜ defeat laces the pout creasing his lips together, however his stubborn nature hardly detoured by the refusal. a tough, self reliance had forced them both to grow up quick- drifting from from shelter, to shelter. sometimes, thieving much to Wanda's chastisement, but those days were hopefully behind them. still, the natural born instinct to keep pushing remained; an enhanced attribute of a pre-existing personality trait.
❛ do you ever pull d'at stick out of your ass? ❜
hand lifts to ACKNOWLEDGE the guard at the door, other securing around the knob of the door. his last visit to pietro was to witness him being HASTILY tethered to DOCTOR CHO’S machines; upon his entrance, it was PLEASING to find him LIFELIKE. expression remains neutral, even as the SOKOVIAN begun with a prying question the moment he entered. ‘ hey, kid. how are you doing? is the hospital food TREATING you well? ’ facial features pull to EXAGGERATE a DISGUSTED look.
it wasn’t that tony didn’t think he DESERVED a solid answer, but it was that he didn’t HAVE one. when ross FINALLY got a hold of him to tell him something he already FIGURED, not all efforts had been made to find them. reaching out to snag the chair on pietro’s bedside, a SIGH left pursed lips once settled — digits interlocking in silence.
azure pools don't MISS the strategic deflection in Stark's answer, suspicion coiling his nerves as lips gape, forcing misused vocals to work. months hung in stasis when one was confined to such tiny quarters, it reminded him of the cell HYDRA had provided, bare furnishings – isolation. but unlike the grungy walls, and ratty mattress, this facility was clean, sterilization clinging thickly in his nose as white coats flocked from door to door.
it is UNNERVING. deathly quiet in places where his sister used to reside, as if apiece of himself had been cut away and lost. an emptiness crawling like blackened spiderwebs under his flesh, the whisper of her fingers over his own a ghost memory. comfort of warmth becoming a cold indifference, as the gap of time stretched further.
“ no more holes, still on probationary watch for my recovery.
where. is. my. sister---- ?”
the elder is evasive, meaning either he doesn't actually know. or she's dead. neither options sit well, fear rooting itself firmly into the hollows of his bones. hooked into the very marrow, his soul screamed for it's other half. a lonely echo into the darkness, searching for a light.
i'm working on shit, now. i'm sorry for being trash. laughs into the void.
DEATH had only been the beginning, an endless void that had left him suspended in stasis. nothingness consuming conscience & awareness, until the veil had lifted from shrouded submersion and breath spiked back into his lungs, a shaky surreal purge of color seeping back into the darkness. he doesn't remember the tube, nor the wires feeding life back into his veins, just the cold shock of air on his flesh and the tremble of unsteady confusion leaving him mute for days. but time is a stagnant blur, days bleeding into weeks------ into months. but it feels like years, the weight is in his bones. a heavy, sedated tug that left him strung between the horrors of reality & numbed despondence.
lifelines scattered beneath the harsh U.V. lights spilling over white walls, and sterilized floors. not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about Wanda; worry ebbed in the CRACKS of his lucidity, clinging with guilt, for failing to return to her as he’d promised. but sacrifice begets rationality, blood spilled to save the many for the sake of one, and he doesn’t regret his decision. only that it left Wanda without him. the last piece of Sokovia either one of them had left, was each other. now, just a ghost echo existed.
azure irises move with a dulled slowness, shifting up to the sound of a muffled voice reaching through the tiny holes in the plastic cell door, the face of the man responsible for the BOMB that had destroyed his family. his home. and he should feel rage, raw hatred burning through his veins, but he doesn’t, he can’t. the facility kept him on a tight leash, subdued. restraints complacent to keep his powers in check and neutralized.
something is wrong, he can feel it in the core of his soul.
“ where is my sister ---- ? ”
so today marks one month since i’ve created bucky, & somehow ( like srsly how ?? ) managed to acquire 500+ followers in the process, which i’m just in complete disbelief over. thank you so much for following me, writing with me, plotting with me, etc… it really means the world when i feel i’m just a dumb cub in a sea of amAZING, amazing roleplayers. like gosh, thank you ♡ i thought about doing a bias list again but i think i’ll save that for the potential 1K ( if i even reach that ofc ) & ‘cos i only feel i’m kinda good with icons ?? here’s an ICON GIVEAWAY !! ( icon examples in graphic above )
the rules are pretty simple - ↪ must be following me // ↪ only reblog once; only like once // ↪ you must be an RP blog // this must reach 15notes+ or this never happened // ↪ & the giveaway will end: JUNE 25TH 2016.
what will you win ?? FIRST PRIZE: one will win 400-500 icons of their muse, PSD attached. ( 70px or 100px; optional watermark; PSD choice between dark, pastel, colorful, black’n’white decided via IM ) SECOND PRIZE: one will win 200-300 icons of their muse, PSD attached. ( 70px or 100px; optional watermark; PSD choice between dark, pastel, colorful, black’n’white decided via IM ) THIRD PRIZE: two will win 100-150 icons of their muse, PSD attached. ( 70px or 100px; optional watermark; PSD choice between dark, pastel, colorful, black’n’white decided via IM )
& that’s it !! thank you so much for all those that are following me, once again, & uh - good luck !!
I met her accidentally in St. Paul, Minnesota And it tore me up every time I heard her drawl, Southern drawl
She really gets me high, bam-ba-lam You know that’s no lie, bam-ba-lam She’s so rock steady, bam-ba-lam And she’s always ready, bam-ba-lam
ZZ Top - Sharp Dressed Man
Rock You Like a Hurricane - Scorpions (Love at First Sting, 1984)
thanks to my friend, manu, who was gracious enough to make me one, i got me a brand new theme !
UNSPOKEN WORDS are whispered through feather-light touches of reassurance, a language conveyed and deciphered only through themselves. two souls, eternally bound to one another. torn apart by the severance of fate, only to be stitched back together, but this time------ pietro spared no thought of LEAVING his sister's side. not even if she would ask it of him, her withered mood spurning both concern & anger in his gut. arms wound around her protectively, absorbed the silence of gentle breaths, calming.
“ dorogaya, sestra. ” a soft whisper, muted in resonance with a familial reassurance.
she is a STORM, contained in all her magnificence. scarlet chaos surging through her bones, rendered POWERLESS by chains & restraints & devices, bound like an ANIMAL, for display. it sickens him, repulse crawling like poison through his veins. but he doesn’t storm off - his hotheaded nature stalled by a more pressing matter, Wanda. always first, always his top priority. even the last gulps of air to escape his lungs had been expended with her in mind, to know that she would be left alone in the world, but she had the Avengers. or at least, he thought so. peace of mind had been shattered, however, when Steve Rogers filled him in on the state in which she had been found, sheet white and silent, in a straight jacket and a shock collar.
his own re-cooperation often left him tired, mentally & physically, though it is nothing that he cannot endure, nothing he has not ENDURED before, placing it on a back-burner for her well-being.
“ they are going to pay for what they did. ” an idle threat it may seem, but it is a promise. gentle, yet firm. containing conviction.
random injury/injured scenario memes !
send a symbol to find my muse —–
🌌 - suffering from blunt force trauma ( a hard punch to the face, hit with a bat, etc ) 🔪 - suffering from a stab wound 🔑- sitting on the ground, wheezing & coughing 💔 - crying & taking their rage/sorrow/etc out on a wall with their fist ✴️ - trying to tend to bad burns somewhere on their body 📢 - having just been in a fight & is now dizzy, ears ringing ⬇️ - throwing up from a sickness or injury they have ⛓ - chained to a wall/floor/ceiling & beaten bloody
