#yasoldat

[entriprises]

"follow me and stay close." ‧₊˚ @yasoldat . . . making demands.

"why would i follow you?" her voice comes out a whispered hiss as her whole face screws in a confused and partially offended look. "you have..." she gestures out, in speechless disbelief, towards his arm before crossing hers and cocking her head to the left, "like one gun. i shoot lasers out of my fucking eyes. be serious dude. you should be following me!"

though buttercup has made this declaration, the seconds passing by bring about a new realization: she has no idea where they should be going. she'll take them on a left and maybe another and they might wind up right back in this spot. she could fly-- zip around and go through the whole floor in a matter of moments, but even then she knows she'll spend more time trying to make sense of direction.

"but you know what, just because i'm a really good person--" the rash temper starts to subside, and she gestures forward, "you take the lead this time, yeah. go ahead."

[mantistiel]

cont.⠀⠀//⠀⠀@yasoldat

a  tinge  of  guilt  –  it  isn't  her  fault  that  she  can  feel  what  others  feel,  but  it  is  invasive  and  a  burden  at  times.  her  throat  nearly  closes  up,  eyes  prickling  with  tears  before  it's  shoved  down  deep.  weary  smile  is  given  in  response.  “if  you  are  sure..”  she  doesn't  pry,  it's  not  respectful,  even  if  she  wishes  people  would  talk  about  their  god  damn  feelings  for  once.  she's  too  tired  for  this.

“how  does  what  work---  oh.  hm..  well  there  are  a  few  different  ways  that  it  works,  actually.  a  lot  of  people  believe  that  it  is  only  through  touch  that  i  am  able  to  tell  but  in  actuality  it  is  something  i  can  innately  do.”  a  deep  breath,  finger  pointing  limply  towards  the  antennae  that  wriggle  above  her  head. 

she  bites  back  the  grimace  she  wants  to  display.  as  much  as  she  tells  herself  she  doesn't  care  about  her  features  being  less  than  human,  she  knows  how  people  feel  when  seeing  her  for  the  first  time  —  or  multiple  times,  really.  “with  these  i  have  a  wider  range  because  they  sense  through  the  air.”  she  continues,  glancing  down  at  her  hands  now.  “but  through  touch,  i  am  able  to  experience  emotions  at  a  heightened  level  and  my  control  over  other  people  is  also  stronger.  that  is  how  it  works,  more  or  less.  how  does  your  arm  work?  it  makes  little  noises..  why?”  now  the  questioning  is  redirected  right  back  at  him.

[crossbearings]

❝ 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒊𝒕. ❞

❝ i'd be done if you would just stop 🇲​🇴​🇻​🇮​🇳​🇬​ ​— ❞ he snapped, fingers deftly tying off the suture. ( 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵. 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘦. ) ( 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨. ) matt runs his fingers along the wound, gently enough for him to know how far it goes and for james to barely feel the touch. ❝ you're still 🇧​🇱​🇪​🇪​🇩​🇮​🇳​🇬. ❞

[ ♰ ]   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓. ㅤ@yasoldat

[serpernt]

@yasoldat / “ I am going to punch you in the throat. ”

is it odd to be met with pride for sparking such rage ? and to think , loki had done very little ( by their own standards ) to trigger the threat . all glee is torn from their expression , their smile downcast into an apologetic frown they don't really mean . they keep it a while until cheeks begin to ache , and slowly does a small smile work its way back onto venomous lips . there's no doubt it'd hurt , loki had eyed the soldier's arm with trepidation on more than one occasion , but there's something that just seems to tickle the god's humour that they can't quite put a finger on . “ i'd prefer it if you didn't . perhaps an apology would change your mind . . ? ”        

[felinoir-a]

𝚂𝙷𝙴   𝙺𝙽𝙴𝚆   𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶   𝚆𝙰𝚂   𝚆𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙶   𝙰𝚂   𝚂𝙾𝙾𝙽   𝙰𝚂   𝚃𝙷𝙴   𝙳𝙾𝙾𝚁   𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙳.   Nothing   in   the   eclectic,   colorful   chaos   was   visibly   disturbed   –   the   priceless   art   pieces   were   still   in   place,   the   stacks   of   cash   on   her   coffee   table   still   exactly   as   she   left   it,   the   uncut   diamonds   on   the   marble   island   still   arranged   neatly.   The   thief   slipped   in   soundlessly   through   the   front   door,   purse   set   on   the   floor   and   claws   distended.   Absent   were   the   demanding   welcomes   of   her   four   pampered   felines,   teeth   bared   as   Felicia   took   a   deep   inhale.  

𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏   𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅.   𝑮𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒅𝒆𝒓.   𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.   𝑴𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍.   𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒆.

It   was   a   herculean   task   to   tamp   down   on   the   angry   growl   brewing   in   her   throat   as   she   snuck   through   her   darkened   home,   taking   note   with   quiet   relief   at   the   angry   citrine   eyes   glaring   out   from   underneath   the   sofa.   Three   of   four   were   accounted   for,   a   small   weight   taken   out   of   the   pit   of   her   stomach   as   she   continued   to      follow   the   scent   of   the   trespasser.   This   penthouse   had   been   her   first   major   purchase   (and   money   launder)   in   her   criminal   career   and   Felicia   had   spent   years   fortifying   it   to   a   custom,   state   of   the   art   citadel   –   an   intruder   was   an   𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓   to   her   skill   and   her   pride,   almost   more   so   than   a   threat.

But   even   she   had   to   pause   at   the   telltale   sound   of   a   round   being   chambered.   Her   nailbeds   screamed   as   claws   were   extended   to   their   limit,   inky   lips   curled   into   a   snarl   as   the   feeling   of   thousands   of   angry   bees   flooded   over   her   skin   –   glass   in   dozens   of   picture   frames   cracking   under   the   force   of   a   thickening   bad   luck   aura.  

❝      Threatening   me   with   a   gun   in   my   own   home?   You   got   some   real   balls   on   you,   I’ll   give   you   that.      ❞

i missed u sm @yasoldat

[mtchstck-a]

no one:

bucky:

[sonicanary]

           “ I wouldn’t go that far exactly, but if you mean, aside from the broken wrist & cracked ribs, not so much okay. ” 

canon dialogue sc.  @yasoldat

[arrowloosed]

i’m ten but my license says twenty-one.

2012 roleplay starters

“you and ‘tasha. gonna be the fucking death of me, man. you know that, right? i’m too old for this. i’m too old and i’m younger than both of you. fuck. you are over one hundred, you fuck nut.”