Menu
  »  Blog Home
  »  Browse All Blogs
  »  Blog Layouts

Manage Blog
  »  Add New Post
  »  View My Blog
  »  Customize Blog
  »  My Subscriptions
  »  My Subscribers

Categories
  »  Uncategorized
  »  Blogging
  »  Guidelines
  »  Photography
  »  Real Life
  »  Resources
  »  Stories

Browse All Blogs
ᴠᴀʟᴋʏʀɪᴇ ʀᴇʙᴏʀɴ

07/28/2021 06:30 PM 

Missions and Trust ~ Drabble

Stephanie relaxed back on the bed, her eyes reading the pages of the book she had brought with her. She had been sent on a Mission with Bucky by none other then Director Fury. In his words it was his way of 'making sure he could trust them' and making sure 'they weren't just pretending to have their memories back for the sake of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers. Not to mention Bucky was currently laying next to her. "If you don't stop watching me, Barnes I swear I will throw you out that window and tell Director Fury you slipped." She said though her tone was teasing.Bucky just smiled. "Come on doll you wouldn't do that to me and you know it." He said as she looked over, attempting to hide the red that had appeared on her cheeks. "Oh yeah? Perhaps I'll just ask Director Fury the next time he sends us on a mission together to put me in a separate room. Or at least a room with two beds." She smirked trying to hide her laughter as Bucky feigned a look of hurt. "You wouldn't?" He asked and Stephanie just smiled before picking up the phone.Moments later however the phone was taken from her hand and placed back on the receiver. "Your stubborn." He said and she chuckled. "Well look at the two men I grew up around. The two most stubborn men I know. It's only natural." She said and Bucky scoffed. "Please I'm pretty sure you came out that way. You've been this stubborn for as long as I can remember." He said and Stephanie simply shrugged. "It's called independence, James. Independence and strong willed." She said before going back to her book. Moments later she felt the book being gently pulled from her hands and a set of arms wrap around her as she was pulled into Bucky's chest. "I was reading that..." She mumbled as she felt Bucky nuzzle his face between her shoulder and neck. "And you need to learn to relax...just a little." He mumbled. "The mission isn't until tomorrow. This is Monaco. Relax. Enjoy yourself a little." Stephanie listened to him a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Honestly how can you be so care free sometimes...I honestly wanna know. For a guy who pretty much overachieved in everything...school, the army...send some of those vibes my way would you?" She asked and Bucky chuckled. "Yes ma'am." Bucky mumbled causing Stephanie to laugh. "And don't call me ma'am. For one I don't rank above you. Two my mama is ma'am not me. Three..." She put her hand on his arm, the cool metal felt nice against her firey hot skin. She had grown accustomed to the cold so the heat hadn't really agreed with her on multiple occasions and the cool metal of his vibranium arm was more then welcoming to her. Bucky however had taken notice of the heat. "Your skin...it feels like it's on fire." He mumbled concerned. "Summer Fever I guess...." She chuckled. Bucky however moved to look at her. "Don't joke...." He said his voice rather serious. Stephanie just sighed. "My body grew accustomed to the cold...this is the first real heat that I've felt in years that isn't synthetic...it's much more intense." She mumbled. Bucky understood then. Decades upon decades being frozen in ice had turned her body into something similar to a ice block. If he thought about it her skin always did feel cold compared to his own. "So you're telling me you've turned into Jackie Frost?" He teased and Stephanie smirked. "Something like that." She said turning to face him. "Your arm....it brings the heat down a little bit if that makes sense." She smiled softly and Bucky smiled in return as he moved to place his hand upon her forehead. "I think we should ask Stark to turn your room into an icebox." He said suddenly.Stephanie then looked at him. "Perhaps so. Maybe then I wouldn't be so sluggish." She smiled and Bucky's smile faltered slightly. "Your body shouldn't stay that cold..." He said. "I'm no scientist and I'd say ask Stark but...I have a feeling you've already been looking into it." He said and Stephanie nodded. "Guilty as charged." She chuckled. Despite the heat, Stephanie cuddled closer to him. There was very few people that Stephanie trusted...who she let into her life. Bucky was one of those people. Then there was Steve and Natasha. Back before she was taken there was Howard and Peggy who she trusted with her life. Peggy was her best friend. Her relationship with Tony had improved slightly but it was still off to a rough start. However Stephanie sometimes felt as if she were going to wake up and everything would have been a dream. She would have expected to end back up in her little prison cell, or her 'icebox' yet again. "Relax..." Bucky said. "I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. I swear." He whispered. At that moment, Stephanie felt herself growing tired....her eyes slowly closing as her head rested against his chest, her anxiety and doubts slowly melted away as she focused on the sound of his heartbeat and the soft easy pattern of his breathing. 

Just

07/28/2021 06:25 PM 

DeadBeats

https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F813814595162436262%2F&psig=AOvVaw1dSl9-KmMLacubA0likL8e&ust=1627597590215000&source=images&cd=vfe&ved=0CAgQjRxqFwoTCIiU8NTnhvICFQAAAAAdAAAAABAD

Got any drinks left for me?

sᴇʀᴘᴇɴᴛᴊᴜʟɪᴇᴛ♔

07/28/2021 11:13 PM 

Beautiful.

serpent juliet Beautiful Betty is alone in the house after spending the day preparing herself for the awful possibility of staying at home with her mother, sister, niece, and nephew while all of her old friends whose friendship status is in jeopardy are out socializing. Betty isn't ready to admit that her mother and two nine-year-old children have a more active social life than she does. Betty contemplates going out with her closest friends and joining them in a moment of weakness, fabricating a tale to hide her deception. She switches her leggings for jeans and finger-combs the braided ponytail divot out of her hair when the wave of humiliation washes over her.Betty grimaces as she sits heavily on the sofa bed, still wearing her jeans but unzipped. After she flops on her back and sighs, probably displaced from her slumber area under the bed, Toffee rushes up to join her and sits on Betty's chest, purring. Betty's trained poker mask is collapsing under the weight of her hometown, which used to think she was a skilled liar. Betty checks her few things while lying down in her own version of a depressing basement dwelling.If she packed her belongings and returned to DC, would anybody miss her? She asks this of herself, assuming she has a life to return to—her apartment is just as boring and lifeless, her commute stinks, her boss would almost certainly find out about her illegal activities. If she brought up gathered evidence, and her only significant personal connection is Glenn, who barely counts. But Betty is well aware that she still needs to answer one question: what the hell is her plan? Is she going to live in her mother's basement for the rest of her life, receiving a pathetic teacher's salary? Will Betty set a definite timetable for herself and return to DC no matter what happens? Should she stay in Riverdale and try to build a life for herself, leaving the mysteries, heartbreak, and crowded psychiatrist's office behind?Betty is without a plan for the first time in her frigging existence. Betty Cooper always has a strategy; it may change as circumstances change, but there is always the following phase. Her own version of a safety net is a definite next step. On the other hand, Betty is now treading a fine line into the uncertainty, with no safety fishing net for her if she falls. home comment message gallery stream blog All my insecurities Wishing for something different All the things you do to me Tell me the truthI got more than all these scars I got flaws and broken hearts I don't like this stranger staring at me Yeah

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞.

07/28/2021 01:51 PM 

Introduction.

“Your father, he was a good man… But not a faithful man. He had three different children outside of this marriage. With three different women.”Addelyn Monreaux looked as though the floor had fallen out from beneath her feet. She was in mourning—They all were, after all. The family patriarch had tragically perished in a plane crash, leaving herself and what she had assumed was two siblings and her mother behind. Now, she and her brother and sister were being confronted with this information—Albeit only after confronting their mother head on. Who could blame her, though, if this all were true? How humiliating.Denial of course was the youngest Monreaux’s defense of choice. Like mother, like daughter. Margaret Monreaux only allowed God himself to ever put her in her place. It wasn’t unlike her youngest to take after her in this, and many other ways. She was driven, talented—Using her gifts on the Sunshine Network to sing praise and worship songs and bring a new generation to the church. And if denial was easier than swallowing a bitter pill that might hold her back—Well then denial was the way to go.“Mama…?” She asked with uncertainty. Her mother hadn’t been the same since the plane crash, she wondered if maybe the woman was just kicking up dirt in her grief. The woman couldn’t meet Addelyn’s eyes, instead choosing to further explain herself to the older Monreaux siblings. With a frustrated huff the young blonde girl left the room, distraught. None of this made any sense at all to her.Ever since she was a little girl, Addelyn had looked up to her mother and father; They seemed to bethe most blessed couple she’d ever known. They had everything, or at least they’d seemed to. Now it seemed the reality of their façade was bubbling to the surface. Suddenly she turned on her heeland marched back in. “I won’t let you tarnish Daddy’s memory like this, you know.”The room went quiet, her mother finally turning to face her. “Addelyn. I cannot deal with your foolishness. Now, I know this is a lot to take in, but I am your mother and I am not lying to you.” With this, she turned back to Rose and Eric, who seemed more concerned with the family business than anything else. Inshock, Addelyn watched the scene play out, though in all honesty she could no longer hear their words.It all just sounded like a lot of blank noise.A moment later the family’s door could be heard being hauled open, wheels squealing outside. The blonde couldn’t just sit there and listen to her family talk about these things like they mattered when their entire family had been a lie. She didn’t really mind about what might happen to the Sunshine Network, it was too big of a titan to be taken down overnight.After awhile the car turned off into a diner, shaking legs leading the young woman inside. Shock—Addelyn needed sugar. “Can I have a Coke, please?” She asked a passing waitress. She settled into a booth, noting the mostly empty place and therefore taking no guilt in helping herself to more than she actually needed. It was a blessing to be there alone—She needed the space in that moment.Hazel eyes find the scenery outside, a sigh of relief falling from her lips. She could finally think… Couldn’t she? She leaned back into the booth, offering the waitress a thankful smile as she placed down the drink. Soon she was gulping the beverage down, her trembling finally subsiding. After a few moments she leaned back into the booth, eyes sliding shut. “Lord help us now,” Addelyn Monreaux prayed beneath her breath. They certainly were going to need it.

Filthy Rich, southern, religion, dark fame

Retired: Archival Page Only

07/28/2021 01:20 PM 

The Death of Sasha Karpov: Hydra Part 3

The Death of Sasha Karpov Отрежь одну голову, на ее место займут две.   ✯ Chapter 1Chapter 2  The young Karpov girl had spent the day at her parents home just a few miles from the Hydra Siberian outpost where they worked. They lived most of their days at the compound, but today her parents wanted her home, something about doing some unsafe explosive testing. The girl may have been only nine, but she knew her parents were lying. Something more was going on, but she did not argue. Eventually she would return to the compound and do her normal sneaking around to find the answers she sought.It was nearly ten o'clock by the time her parents arrived back home. Sasha walked towards the front of the house as they hurried up the pathway, and as soon as the door opened she knew something was wrong. Her father James was holding white cloth against the side of his face, crimson liquid escaping the broken flesh of his skin along his temple. Her mother Katrina seemed frantic as she caught site of Sasha standing there a few feet away. "Пойдем, Саша, пора идти!" Her mother said, but before she could take another step, their attention was drawn by the screeching of tires in the driveway. Sasha looked to her parents who were clearly scared of something, which said a lot considering those within Hydras world feared nothing. The young girl became worried as her father moved quickly to her side, grabbing her arm and pulling her down the hall."Вы должны спрятаться, вы меня понимаете? Не позволяй дяде найти тебя!" Sashas father said, before stopping down the hall and pushing open a small panel in the wall. Her father shoved her inside but paused as his gaze caught her own. His bloodied hand reached up to press against her face, rough fingers rubbing against her cheek. He wished he had time to explain, time to watch her grow up and help them fight the mistakes they had made. But that time was up, and he knew this was the end for he and his wife. "Дорогой мой Саша. Вы долго спрашивали меня о человеке в танке. У меня нет времени объяснять, но знайте, вы были правы. Мы ошибались. Не забывай, что Саша. Я тебя люблю."Before Sasha could respond, he slid the panel back into place and hurried back towards her mother. The girl was tempted to follow, but she knew her father would not have put her there if she was not in serious danger. Her thoughts began to overwhelm her. Why had he changed his mind about the man in the tank, the one who always looked so sad when he had to go back inside? Why was he bleeding, and worst of all, what were they so scared of? Before she could get her answers, a loud bang sounded from the front door as it was broken down by several men. Sasha could hear shouting and a moment later her mother screamed.The young girls breathes became panicked, and she fought every urge not to run to her parents. Sasha managed to slip the panel out ever so slightly so she could see what was going on. Several HYDRA soldiers had filled the hallway, among them brown hues could make out her uncle Vasily Karpov, the man her father warned her about. Why would uncle Vasily want to hurt her father?"Вы брат-предатель, и за это вы оба погибнете." Vasily said, shoving her father to his knees while another soldier followed suit with his mother. Sasha could barely make out the tears in her mothers eyes as her uncle raised his weapon and pulled the trigger. BANG. A slight shift of his hand. BANG. Sashas hand covered her mouth and she sunk back into the hideaway, pulling the panel back into place. All of her training would come into play now, and survival was her only option. Shouts could be heard as her uncle ordered the soldiers to find her. Sasha knew they wouldn't kill her, she was too young. No, what HYDRA would do would be much worse, and she would likely become much like the man who lived in the tank. Without hesitation, her fight mode kicked in, and she moved down the hidden passgeway, knowing the cramped space would lead to a tunnel that would exit out two miles away from the home.  В этот момент умер Саша Карпов и родилась женщина, известная теперь как Аварен Маккой. Created by Patriot

- ᴅʀᴇᴡ

07/28/2021 12:56 PM 

Journal - 7/27/21

journal entry 7/27/21Dear Izzy,                          I'm sitting here thinking of you. I probably shouldn't be because you're with him. I can't help but ponder on all of our time spent together, and how we spoke for hours. I told you things I usually don't allow many people to see. Maybe our paths have crossed for us to fall into this place. I thought we could've been something. We could've tried harder, had something oddly unique. Something that wasn't supposed to become an actual love story. You say I'm selfish, but I know you felt the same. I guess someone else is what you need to make you feel alright. This letter is all over the place, and honestly, it's fitting. My thoughts are a jumbled mess. You've messed with my head.Our years becoming best friends and you've felt familiar to me, like a childhood home that I never had but always needed. Steady head on my shoulders, something to fill my life with purpose. Anything to get me by. You've seen me at my worst, loved me through my best. Stood beside me for every high and low. You know the deepest darkest parts of my mind, my soul, and the scars upon my body. I should've known this would have only caused us chaos and it happened like a f u c k i n g wrecking ball. I almost called you today. But I don't entirely know how to face you, let alone speak to you.This pain is something I've never had to endure. Believe me, losing my mom and my dad both still living and breathing but not in my life, doesn't begin to compare to the loss of you in my life. I guess when they tell you not to put your happiness on another person, this is what they were talking about. I've leaned on you for so long, and I know you say that you love me all the same and nothing changed. It all has. Every single moment of it has changed. You came into my life some years ago, and our friendship has been a crazy adventure. You are my best friend. But between then, Greece and now? It's shifted.I know you thought I was sleeping, and I want you to always think that, but the pain in your father's voice at the selfish act of our surprise sham marriage should've been a dead giveaway that this, this entire charade wouldn't have lasted. I should've walked out and told you we can go get it annulled. deny, deny, deny. But instead, I let you sit there, silently drowning in your tears. As my fears of this ending well, unravel at my feet. For worse or for better right? I guess this is the better. Me, drunk writing to you in a journal so I don't spill my entire guts out to you. Lost in more words, than you could even fathom. That sickly feeling of hearing the disappointment in your father's voice is back now. But instead of his words ringing in my head, "I’m usually proud of everything you do. You know that your mother and I love you so much. That’s why it hurts us to see what you’re doing all over the tabloids. Do you think you’re making the best choices for yourself? We haven’t even met this boy. And what does he want? Does he want your money? Does he even know who you are back home? We have so many questions and so many more concerns.". It's just images of you and Shawn. Seeing you so happy and trapped within his embrace. I hate the vision so deeply. I'd rather go blind than have to see you in the arms of someone else. Not that I can find the words to actually tell you how I feel. or if it will even matter at this moment.Do you even hear my cries? I just need you to hold me, to tell me that it's not real. Why? It wasn't even real. It was a business deal as you keep reminding me. Somewhere along the way, I let your love swallow me whole. Now that I'm without it. I don't even know what to do with myself. I wake every morning aching to roll over and see your light shine at me. You're the only thing I think about, and I can't bring myself to even see you. The thought makes me physically sick. I keep telling myself to cut ties. I even got serious enough to fire you, and I cannot bring myself to do it. How am I supposed to face you at work?Without you, it feels like I'm missing a part of me. I'm so alone, and I feel like I don't even know who I am. What sort of witchcraft sorcery did you put on me? How did I get to this lovesick moment...? Where all I want is to pull you into my arms and tell you I love you, but I can't. Would it do any good for either of us? I don't wanna be anywhere else, but wrapped and entangled in your love. Can't you see the desperation in my face, because I know I'm not hiding it? You've always been the one person who's seen through my facade. The only person I know who's called me on my bull s h i t and held me accountable for my actions.What hurts more than not having you, or seeing you with him? The fact that I had to read it in a headline. Madison knew, but not me? How could you...? Best friends don't keep that sort of thing from one another Izzy if I had known there was someone else. We didn't even have to do this whole sham. I know, I wouldn't be damn near sick or be looking at my best friend differently. I love you. I love you. CAN'T YOU SEE THAT??  This is so f u c k i n g stupid. You're never even going to see this damn letter. I was told it'd help. "Getting it out, instead of letting it eat you alive with free your mind." What kind of psycho-babble is this? This doesn't make me feel any better.It hurts. It hurts more because I'm admitting to myself that I allowed my soul to fall for yours and the more time we spent together the more I grew to love you, and you're with him. Telling you this will only further complicate things. Clearly, you chose him. You've made it clear, with your disgusting posts, and your public displays of affection. I can't believe I'm letting this sink me into a depression. There are other people out there to love. I should just ask you to leave my life. To leave me be. Walk away and leave this all where it lies. We made our bed. But I can't do that. I can't just let you go. I SEE you, I KNOW you. ME. Not him. Me. It'll be you and me. Someday, some way.                                                                         -Drew.

Eckes.

07/28/2021 12:08 PM 

NPCS

𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖇𝖍𝖘𝖊

07/28/2021 12:04 AM 

Walking Death

Walking Death, 1x1 with Harbinger of Death taibhse /1709377 1699 FebruarySalem, MA“Please Master Alden! I beg of you! MERCY!” The trembling voice of the older man scrambled into the corner of the dark room filled with the smells of feces, urine and death. The figure in the shadows was staring upon his latest victim with nothing but malice and the purest forms of hatred imaginable. The man was scrambling in the corner with the utter desperation of self preservation with terror seeping into his bones.“Mercy?” The young man’s voice was at least an octave lower than what one would expect coming from him. “Did you provide MERCY to my father when you accused him of witchcraft? Did you grant MERCY when you made his life HELL on earth? DID YOU?” The clenched fists at his sides were glowing with an otherworldly energy darkened by the presence of the blood in his hands that was not his. Blood magic that had been instilled by what he’d learned from the Original Witch’s Grimoire some six years prior.The cry of the man echoed through the dungeon in which he’d been enslaved. This grandson of John Alden and Priscilla Mullins was a witch just as his parents and grandparents before him. The coven had fled England for sanctuary in the new world. The Puritans nearly exterminated their coven. Now Nate was the instrument of vengeance of this coven and all the wrongs inflicted upon it. No one choose him for this operation. He took it all upon himself gladly. He extended his hands in front of him, still glowing with magic and dripping in blood. The magical energy that shot forth struck the iman inciting his screams to higher levels that were desperately inhuman.The flesh of the man began to peel from his body. Muscles, internal organs and blood gushed forth as the only thing laying in the corner of the room was a skeleton of the man remained. The eyes of the man rolled forward toward the feet of Nate Alden to stop at his feet. Glaring down at his last victim with utter malevolence, Nate had one final instrument of his vengeance to unleash. His right foot raised and slammed back down with indignant hatred as the organs were ground into the earthen floor beneath him.The sweet sensation of victory filled his bones. Despite having left behind his own wife and children, he knew he had to fulfill this drive and destiny. They wanted to malign witches and call them instruments of Satan, so be it. The power of the Dark Magic coursing in his veins made Nate feel far more powerful than he could have ever dreamed. Relishing the feeling of satisfaction from the death of this Puritan, the youngest male Alden began to feel something happening to him. His body twisted and contorted with exquisite agony as that Black Magic started to institute his final transformation. He watched as his own hands began to grow skeletal. The clothing he wore began to fall into rags covering over his face. His mortality shuffled off in chunks of flesh that landed on the cellar floor. He lifted from the ground and began to float. His conversion was complete.This was the last day of the life of Nate Alden as a human witch. The depth of anger and human suffering he’d caused had corrupted this once promising young witch turning him into a monster. His anguish came in the form of a bone chilling cry knowing that he was completely lost to what he once knew. There was no coming back now. Nate Alden was a creature of the most pure form of evil imaginable. He was a wraith.1699, AugustRural VirginiaTime did not pass as one would expect to measure it with a human or even a witch’s lifespan. The news of the disappearance of Nate Alden had reached his family and his young bride. The vivacious redhead who had borne him three children; two sons and a daughter was devastated. She knew what had happened to her husband. She knew the dark magic he had engaged in had turned him into something far more sinister than could have ever been imagined. The Coven took care of her and the children, but Nate was dead to them for now and evermore. The memory of his wife and children haunted him in his tormented state. It fueled his anger and it drove him further SouthHe knew that this was Virginia. He could tell because he’d been here before. The cave of the Original Witch was nearby. The dark magic that emanated from this place still fed him. It was like a beacon that he couldn’t help but gravitate toward. There was something else pulling him here. The Bennett Witches had left Salem before they were persecuted as witches. They’d escaped the vengeance of the Puritans. They weren’t going to escape from him. There was power still here and Bennett Witches to end. The spectral form of the Wraith that had once been Nate Alden moved with the moonlight through these woods heading toward where the power of the Original Witch was still strongest. He wanted to know how to switch into some type of a human form again even if it wasn’t permanent. The dark magic here wouid give him the answer he sought. He just had to go where humans could not. If he killed another witch or even a BENNETT Witch in the process, so be it.    "Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself." - JK Rowling credit: james kriet

ᴠᴀʟᴋʏʀɪᴇ ʀᴇʙᴏʀɴ

07/27/2021 09:51 PM 

Rockaway Beach ~ Drabble

Stephanie had left early that morning, everyone else having still been asleep. She had managed to catch a bus to a place called Rockaway Beach, a beach that Bucky, Steve, and her had often visited when they were younger. Even with all the years that had passed, the beach still hadn't lost its charm nor had it changed all that much. Currently she was wearing a simple black swimsuit, her straw hat in her hands as she watched the waves. She could hear the sound of the whales calling out to each other in the distance and it made her smile. The fog was thick and the air was chilled, typical for a morning such as this one. "It's a beautiful spot." A voice called out behind her. A feminine one. Turning her attention from the waves, she turned to face Nat. "It is..." She said. And Nat sat down beside her, smiling. "They're all looking for you....I seen the map on your bed. So I figured I'd check here first." She said and Stephanie looked over at her. "So none of them know my whereabouts?" She asked and Natasha shook her head. "No. I figured you left for a reason. I also figured you'd be back but you'd be more willing to talk elsewhere." She said and Stephanie smiled. "You're very perceptive." She said looking over at Nat then back out at the waves.It was silent for a moment between the two, a comfortable silence, but silence none the less until Stephanie finally spoke. "It's to much..." She started. "Everywhere I look...it's all just these little reminders but at the same time I'm....I know this is not my time." She said quietly. "When I look at Tony, I see Howard...their smiles are the same. No give and take Howard wasn't my favorite person in the world....but he was the only man who was willing to give me a chance to live out my dreams back then. I look around...I see people who remind me of others from my past. Then the equipment....it brings back memories of Hydra...." She said quietly. "Suddenly I have Steve and Bucky back in my life, I find out from Steve that Peggy's still alive...it's all hitting at once and my emotions are a wreck. I never did allow my emotions to effect my work....but now it's like I'm unable to control it." She whispered. Natasha listened while she spoke and after a moment decided to speak. "I get it...I do. I never let my emotions get the better of me but after joining the Avengers...I've found my emotions getting the best of me a few times. When you have people you love.... and you're scared to lose them. Your emotions tend to get the better of you weather you want them to or not." She said.Stephanie just smiled. "Yeah...." She whispered. It had been months now and still Stephanie found herself opening up to Nat. Of course she knew she could talk to Steve or Bucky but she still found it hard to trust everyone else around her. All except Nat. Stephanie found herself trusting the redhead fairly easily compared to the other members. Standing up, Stephanie walked to the edge of the water, the cold water splashing over her feet as she stared out across the water. "Thank you..." Stephanie said as she glanced back at Natasha with a small smile. Natasha looked at her slightly confused. "For what?" She asked. After a moment Stephanie turned walking back to her. "For plenty of things...for being there for Steve. For trusting Bucky...for not telling them where I was when you could've easily done so." She said chuckling. Natasha, although a bit surprised, looked at Stephanie with a smile. "You're welcome...and trust me I get it. It's mostly men back there. It can get to be a bit much so I don't blame you for wanting a break." She said. Moments later her phone started to go off and she looked down. "It's Tony... probably wondering where I disappeared to now." She said before looking at her. "I better go...I'll see you back at the compound." Natasha said before she began making her way back to her car.Stephanie just smiled as she called after Natasha. "Let Tony know I'll be back shortly...I just...." She trailed of and Nat looked at her smiling. "No worries. I'll handle it." She said before getting in her car and driving back towards the Avengers Compound as Stephanie waved to her. For a moment she cast a longing look back out at the beach, memories continuing to rush back to her. A single tear managed to escape her eye as she reached up wiping it away, a smile crossing her face. Decades may have passed and time may have changed...but the talk she had with Natasha made her realize that even though time had run its course, and that most people she had known were now gone or aged, she realized those memories were going to stick with her, no matter how many times Hydra had tried to break her, tried to erase her memories of those she loved, those she held dear. She realized those memories would always find their way back to her one way or another and Stephanie was going to make sure she held every memory made, and even the ones yet to be made, close.

Eloise.

07/27/2021 10:06 PM 

Love Language || CS

Words of Affirmation does your muse like giving compliments? not particularly, but she’s not completely opposed to it, she’s just not overly affectionate with her words.how easy is it for your muse to say ‘ i love you’? not even a little.what is one compliment your muse is dying to hear? there isn’t something particular that she would be willing to admit, but at the end of the day, she’d love to be complimented for her mind, or her humour, or something genuine that doesn’t pertain to her appearance.what is something your muse loves being praised for? her podcast and how hard she works on it.  Acts of Service does your muse like it when people do work for them? i suppose it depends – if she hires someone to do something, then yes, obviously. but she’s the type who would ultimately prefer to do things herself so she can ensure they’re done the way she wants.does your muse enjoy giving people a hand with work? again, it depends on the situation, but she isn’t completely opposed to having help, but also not completely for it.what acts of service would your muse appreciate the most? someone bringing her food and drinks. does that count?what is one chore your muse would prefer someone else do for them? washing dishes and anything pertaining to lawn work, not that she has a lawn to care for, but if she did…  Receiving Gifts does your muse enjoy giving gifts? yes, absolutely! and she thinks she’s pretty good at it.what is a gift your muse is hoping to receive? anything such as a handwritten card or note, and then of course the obvious gifts of drugs and alchol.does your muse prefer receiving more practical or fun gifts? neither. she doesn’t ever expect to receive gifts, and hasn't received a ton of gifts in general, so when she does, she tends to really enjoy it.does your muse like it when someone spends a lot of money on them? not particularly.   Quality Time what is your muse’s ideal date night? it depends on the person and the vibe of the night, but she loves anything outdoors after dark. she’s a sucker for bodies of water and rooftops, as well as fun stay-at-home things like blanket forts with movies, snacks, conversation, and laughter.how comfortable is your muse with prolonged eye contact? she’s fine with it. in fact, she’s excellent at it.does your muse prefer conversation or just sitting quietly with their s/o? this is also something that depends on the person and the vibe, but overall, she prefers conversation. when she’s quietly sitting, she’s more likely to lose herself in her own dark thoughts.is it easy for your muse to devote their full attention to one person at a time? depends, but overall and so long as everyone is on the same page, yes.  Physical Touch does your muse like being hugged? yes and no. she doesn’t mind it at all when she’s expecting it, but it does throw her off or cause her to tense up a lot of the time, specifically when she isn’t.where could someone touch your muse to calm them down? palms of her hands and the bend of her back.is there anywhere on your muse’s body they want to be touched most? aside from the obviously dirty answers, she loves a subtle squeeze of her thigh or touching the nape of her neck.does your muse find themselves subconsciously seeking out physical contact? yes, she does. //stolen from warner. (: 

Fᴀɴɢ·𝒶·ʟɪᴄɪᴏᴜs

07/27/2021 09:13 PM 

Rules

No smut/erotica.I will do romance, but there has to be a storyline.Love Interests - there will be only one. I can't do that multi thing.No one liners. No novella.IF I like you, you'll get my Discord. I prefer discussions, but if you can make a rando starter work - alrighty thennnn.

Pandora

07/27/2021 06:33 PM 

Pictures and Such

1. Please don't steal my gifs, i work really hard putting them together, putting a PSD on them to make them look amazingmy pictures and gifs both have PSD, usually the same one unless it's to dark then i put a different one on2. IF you like my stuff, i do have a premade site called Be Your Own Anchor (teen wolf thing)but we do other edits besides teen wolfif you know Betty from Power of Riverdale she is a Co-Owner for BYOA her name is KiraBYOA

Silent Hill-RPG

07/27/2021 06:09 PM 

Travis Grady-Short Story
Current mood:  cranky

Travis Grady who lives in Silent Hill who is fifty's and is a truck driver. He is more on the road than he is at home but at least he is single so he doesn't have anyone to nag at him why he is more on the road than being home. Yet he does once and in awhile wishes he did have someone to be with but work keeps him on the road. Since he lives alone he lives in a apartment at Blue Creeks Apartments which he keeps it clean when he is at home. He does visit Heaven's Night which is a local bar to have a few drinks there mainly he drinks beer. His life goes on like anyone else who lives here in Silent Hill as normal as it will get. 

Lexi

07/27/2021 04:01 PM 

spirit week tuesday task - playlist

Tunes Tuesday Playlist1. Southern City Lights - Jessie James Decker2. Electric Love - Borns3. Blank Space - Taylor Swift4. Levitating - Dua Lipa5. Peaches - Justin Bieber6. Stay - Kid Laroi and Justin Beiber7. Dancing in the Moonlight - Toploader8. Come on Eileen - Dexy Midnight Runners9. Mr Brightside - Killers10. Leave the Door Open - Bruno Mars

ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏꜱ ʀᴏꜱᴇ.

07/27/2021 02:41 PM 

Cowgirls Don’t Cry? - Part one.

Cowgirls Don’t Cry? - Part one.Based on the song; Cowgirls Don't Cry, by Brooks & Dunn. The sound of her horses moving around her stables always soothed Allura Bri Cullen. Just like the scent of nature continued to remind her of home and the good days of her childhood. Those days she could ride on without a care in the world. Her dad was very hard working with their training, Horses or not. Allura stepped out from under her chicken hut with a basket around her arm. The farm was just outside of Pomona. Like many, there was a wide range of a path from the small white farmhouse. The fences along the road held in her horses. Behind that was the chicken coop she was currently stepping out of before jumping onto the dirt path. Her eyes taking in her home with a smile. Cowgirls don’t cry. An echo of his voice made everything settle in each day. Allura was pretty old by now, past her twenties, you could say. Her sun kissed skin blended with the colors of her hair and eyes. Both brown, her father took on the more white side of her family while she took her darker skin from her mother. The rest was much more than her father’s with the time she spent with him. Horses. There was nothing more important than his babies - besides herself and her brother, that is. Dark brown ankle boots walked down the path while searching the farm for a certain horse. Wearing her usual white tank top, skinny tight jeans. The only other thing she bothered to put on besides her watch and gold hoop earrings. Her brother said she would never get a boyfriend like that. Well, she knew that but in this job.. Why bother? Allura was certainly not safer because of her part time keep in the hunter business. She was still in danger, but her brother meant well enough. Allura could admit that she wanted... Something, a kid maybe? Everyone dreams of one day getting something out of life. Kids, husband, wife - something that will fill that void. More than her horses could ever do. ~~~~ The phone rang early that morning. The sound of stumbling feet and muttered words escaped the bathroom down the hall. Allura, with her brown hair tied into a messy bun, came running into the living room. Brow furrowed, yellow gloves on her hands from cleaning earlier that day, “Coming... Coming.” She said breathlessly, tearing her gloves off her hands and sitting them on the couch. Just as Allura pulled the phone to her ear, the sound of her mother’s shaky voice reached her ears. “Mama? Mama, what’s wrong?” “It’s your daddy, you need to come home.” She said another shaky breath forced her to pause, before releasing another cry into the phone. “This is it... I think he’s dying.” Mary continued, voice trembling. Allura’s breathing hitched, and she swallowed thickly, waiting quietly. Her mother laid the phone by her father’s head. “Cowgirl doesn’t cry. Ride, baby, ride....” His scratchy voice sang softly into the phone. Her eyes closed slowly, lowering her head to the floor. “Lessons in life show us all in time. Too soon, God lets you know why. If you fall get right back on Good Lord calls everybody home... Cowgirl don’t cry...” Allura shook her head, “Daddy, I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, I should be there...” she said into the phone, the steady breathing on the other side reassuring her he was there. Tears filled her brown eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Her mother, in the background, started crying again. The conversation hitting her hard. Allura continued, her mouth parted once more before she slowly kneeled on the floor. Yet nothing came out out of her mouth. Her tears falling down harder, her lips trembling, the words she wanted to say only came out as jumbled words. “Cowgirl don’t cry. Ride, baby, ride....” Her father continued to sing softly, soft but right there. “Lessons in life show us all in time. Too soon God lets you know why,” Allura sang softly with him while closing her eyes again, resting her head down on her arm. “If you fall, get right back on... Good Lord calls everybody home. Cowgirl doesn’t cry...” By the end of the song, James Dan Cullen stopped singing but smiled when he heard her voice softly, if not messy, sing to him. His chest slowly rose unevenly, slowly down to a beat until his eyes closed. The heart monitor by his beside beat near the end of the song, but Mary stood by his side and gave a watery smile. Mary Rose Cullen stood up from the bed and reached for the phone, her hand wiping her face before she spoke. “...Rose, come home. Come and be with your family.” He said into the phone. Like her daughter, she had slightly dark skin. Her brown eyes looking at her husband with adoration. Her grey hair was previously brown but now as white and grey as her husband. Allura buried her head in her arm and sniffled. Tears drying up on her face, she pushed her legs up to her chest and laid her head on them. “...Okay, I’ll be there soon, Mama...” The sound of the phone hanging up reached the ears of the upset girl. Her hand placing it back up on the desk while she buried her face into her knees.




© 2021 RolePlayer.me. All Rights Reserved.