#a day in my life 😆
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avonne-writes · 8 months ago
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@hogans-heroes okay, what if one of his triggers is a lot of people yelling angrily at once? So he has trouble attending baseball games once he’s back in the States. Cue post-war PTSD domestic husbands fic as they learn each other again and discover what they never told each other in captivity
Siting at my desk at work trying to mind my own business when outta nowhere huge angsty plot bunny SLAMS ME goddamn I can’t get a break??
What if Bucky never told anyone about his experience between capture and arriving at camp? And had…very strong triggers?
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I can... show you. 🧡💜
For @uh-velkommen.
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myokk · 28 days ago
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She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.
Oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.
"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."
That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.
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from my oneshot💘
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thepenguisalive7 · 11 months ago
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honestly my timeline on Twitter is very clean 😆 I barely see anything, because I muted every single thing qsmp related, almost every single cc name, and anything that might be brought up by cc, and if I see anything qsmp related tweeted I just instantly mute the account (positive or not). There’s the exception of my close friends, and one or two accounts, but other than that? Nothing.
so I don’t really see any bad things on Twitter, and honestly I’m glad for it :’))
if I need updates I can just check the update account or tumblr, and my psyche can remain blissfully ignorant
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nerdinsandals · 1 year ago
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Dancing at the feria under the Paldean sun! 💃☀️
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casuallivi · 1 year ago
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The Midnight Kiss
I live bitches! barely lol. Slow and steady wins the race, they say. Hope that shit is true. 🤷
Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)
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Part 7: Here comes Jhonny
Morrigan Moretti never cared much for her catholic background.
For a spoiled little girl approaching the age of twelve, being catholic only meant Sunday mornings were reserved for church or else her nonna would have a fit. But going to church didn’t mean Morrigan attended the mass, no. The girl was well accustomed to finding her way to the backdoor, killing time behind the opulent white building till her grandma had enough of singing hymns.
In a boring Sunday mid spring, Morrigan snuck out of to find a boy sitting by the shade of a tree, their faithful meeting changing the curse of her life forever.
“What is this?” Morrigan scrunched her nose, looking over the little boy’s shoulder.
“A magazine.”
Mor squinted at the black woman in a yellow two piece sprawled on a beach towel, before her lips quirked in a sneer. Did this boy bring porn to church?
“A dirty magazine?”
She had seen naked women in her father’s hidden magazines before. And she was not impressed.
“A fashion magazine.” The boy corrected impatiently.
Oh, he did not have porn then. But his answer somehow made it all worse. What was a boy doing with a fashion magazine?
“That’s for girls,�� she snickered under her breath.
The girly boy did not seem to like her words, because next thing she knew vexed hazel eyes cut to her so harshly, Mor flinched. Over his left brow, a pink cartoon band-aid creased.
“Fashion is for everybody."
With sharp page flip, he dismissed her completely, grabbing the pencil behind his ear to make annotations alongside the margin. In her short twelve years of life, few were the times Morrigan was ignored.
Okay, who was this boy?
She sat beside him on the steps, attempting to lure the boy back in conversation.
“I never saw a boy with a magazine like that,” then, when she had no answer, “have a dress that color…”
“Is it fun?” She tried again.
“…”
“Can I see it with you?”
No matter how hard she tried, the boy continued to ignored her, going as far as turning his back to her, making little Morrigan baffled. Huffing, she got up, cleaning her behind, eyeing the handkerchief under his butt, stopping his grey suit from getting dirty.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” She exploded, getting angrier by the minute.
Now she was really annoyed with him. He must not have recognized her, or know about her, because everyone in this town knew Morrigan Moretti was to be treated as nothing short of a princess.
Being the only child in a family were couples had a hard time conceiving lead Mor to grow used to being doted and catered for. House in the suburbs, private school, tutoring sessions, ballet lessons, and her long-life membership to the bay area Young Promising Ladies Club –which was passed down from mother to daughter– made sure she was well-educated and fine breeding lady who charmed everyone in the vicinity. Being a beautiful blonde, taller than most girls her age, with alabaster skin – which strayed from the general olive-ish tone of the Morettis – and the owner of a peculiar pair of brown eyes didn’t hurt either.
Everyone loved cute little girls, and Morrigan Moretti was cute as they come, never struggling for attention a day of her life.
Crossing her arms, Mor glared at the boy.
Despite his suit being perfectly pressed, and his black hair being meticulously combed to the side, she could see pink cuts coming out of the collar of his shirt, scratch marks on his wrists, and another colorful band-aid across his knuckles. All those cuts and bruises screamed trouble-maker to her.
How dare this shorty, trouble-maker, ignore her? Weirdo.
Feeling extremely irritated that he paid her no attention, her eyes set on the oh-so-precious object in his hands.
“You are very rude!” Morrigan said, kicking the magazine out of his hands. The boy gasped as the copy landed in a mud puddle, finally giving her what she wanted, and would want from him from that day onward: attention. “Oops. Sorry.” She wasn’t sorry one bit.
Serves him right for ignoring her.
The boy opened his mouth, but no sound came out, instead, the loud bells signaling the end of the mass caught her attention. At that moment, the big oak double-doors opened, a flock of elderly, couples and dutiful children spilling outside.
“Morrigan!” The happy voice of her noona reached her. “There you are, sweety. Come here child, I want to introduce you to my friend. Sofia, here she is. This is my granddaughter, Morrigan.”
Sofia turned out to be her noona’s best friend, who gave Mor a big huge and stained her cheeks red with lipstick. Discreetly, the blond girl cleaned her cheeks, feigning the polite expression she had long mastered. While cleaning herself, Mor payed little attention to the elderly women, eyes set on the boy swaggering towards them till he was standing behind Sofia. This boy looked nothing like the presentable boys she usually saw at church.
This one looked a foot taller than her, older too, with pants that barely reached his sockless ankles, sporting a loose faded-red tie which hanging from under the collar of his wrinkled shirt, a loud Gameboy firm in hand. He eyed him from head to toe, brow rising at the pink scratch marks on his cheek. The worst part was his hair: long enough to be tied at his nape with an ugly leather band. Ugh, she hated boys with girls’ hair. Morrigan made a face while he wasn’t looking.
When she was done analyzing the boy, Mor payed attention to her grandmother’s conversation, soon discovering the little hobo cosplay, and the boy who annoyed her earlier, were Sofia’s grandsons, who were moving in with her and would now be “a part of their community”.Her nonna was over the moon with the news, Mor not so much.
The weirdo’s name was Azriel. His older brother, Cassian.
When Sofia ordered the boys to greet her, Azriel merely nodded. She glared at the shorty, now hiding behind his noona.
“He’s a shy kid.” She smiled, patting his shoulder.
Mor couldn’t tell if he was really shy or resentful at her, but the one called Cassian seemed to be his opposite.
Cassian introduced himself without waiting for his grandma’s command, beaming as he kissed her hand, going on and on about how it was a pleasure to meet the pretty little girl he had heard so much about. Despite the gesture not being uncommon to Mor, who was used to people of all ages fussing over her, calling her pretty, granting all of her wishes, she liked him instantly.
Her noona, on the other hand, had no interest in Sofia’s older grandson, eyes shining only to Azriel, rushing him from behind Sofia, holding him and Mor close together.
“He’s your age, bambina. You are going to be best friends just like Sofia and I. I can tell.”
The two old ladies laughed.
Mor didn’t.
At the time, Morrigan had no idea how close she and Azriel would grow to be. Close enough to spend a decade in a relationship, flirting their way into it long before that.
Now they were no more.
Azriel had cut ties with her.
Their break up was no news to Morrigan. Azriel had done it a couple times before, set on separating his life from hers.
“I’m unhappy. I can’t do this anymore, Mor. I can’t.” He said the last time, breaking up with her again. “I’m done. I’m sorry, but I’m done.” “I won’t take your calls, I won’t answer the door, I won’t see you. We’ve been through so much, I don’t know – I don’t know how to stay friends with you. I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry it has to be like this, but this is the only way for us.”
Mor let him go that night, as she constantly did when she felt too tired to deal with his bullshit. Always something with that one.
Azriel had been hers for decades. She knew it was better to let him cool down, give him a few days and he’d be back to her again. Deep down Morrigan liked Azriel. The problem was Azriel was as emotional guy who like a boring monogamous relationship, and sometimes a girl needed a little break from routine. Not that she would not return to him afterwards. Mor always returned to Azriel’s side. There was nothing on this earth capable of separating them. Morrigan was a model because of him, Azriel worked for a fashion magazine because of her, their lives were way too intertwined to go on without the other.
So they lived like that. Morrigan gave him enough to keep him satisfy, hoping he could keep her satisfy, but he could. She would get bored, and he would want more, because Azriel always wanted more. He wanted full commitment, marriage, a house with dogs and kids. Morrigan wanted freedom, to enjoy life. So they’d start fighting, and she’d would get sick of him, letting him go for a while to cool down while she enjoyed the perks of the single life. Then, when things got boring again, she’d return to his side. Return to the man who loved her more than life itself.
Morrigan Moretti knew she’d marry Azriel Marino.
Eventually.
For as long as Mor could remember, Azriel had been irrevocably and undeniably in love with her. And for as long as she could remember, Mor had been irrevocably and undeniably in love with being loved by him.
In all honesty, Mor did not make it easy for him when they were kids, but to his credit, Azriel was not dissuaded by her hard personality. No one, in the whole world, loved her like Azriel did. In their twenties, Azriel dropped out of his dream college in Milan to move to Atlanta, because Mor was casted by a model agency in the city, and was “scared to be alone” there. One call. All it took for him to give up his dream and support hers was one phone call and a couple of fake tears while she painted her toenails.
Azriel went back to finish college later, but not before she turned into a runway model and moved to Milan herself, signing with a new, bigger agency. The little boy whose magazine she kicked grow into a man who had no difficulty in molding his life around hers, dedicating all of his free time to take care of her schedule, take care of her, so of course, Mor would reward him by settling down at his side.
Could you blame her for wanting to life her life before settling down? It was only fair to have some fun before being someone’s wife. Afterall, no matter how many times they broke up, they always got back together. Always.
Lately, one thing had been keeping her on edge, though.
Their break was too long.
This time Azriel had been taking his sweet time to crawl back to her side, longer than he ever did before. So long that Morrigan ended up hooking up with his brother.
Again.
Azriel didn’t know, would never know, but Morrigan had lost her virginity to Cassian. Had have a couple of one-nights with him along the years as well. She would never assume him, of course. If Mor wasn’t willing to lost her freedom in prol of Az, who never touched another woman in his life, imagine losing it to his man-whore of a brother, who loved no one but himself. Morrigan refused to be owned, she didn’t want a man to have that kind of power over her. And being owned by Cassian was beyond absurd.
“You’re coming with me to the office Christmas party.” Cassian announced one night, stripping his shorts. Morrigan hated how he wore short everywhere, like a young boy refusing to grow up. Would it kill him to put on some pants? Wear suits more than once a year? “What for?” Mor asked, unzipping her dress. “I need a girlfriend. The new shareholders will be there. They’ll feel more confident in the investment once they see me as a family-oriented kind of guy.” She waited for him to laugh, to tell her it was a joke. When he didn’t, Morrigan laughed and laughed, turning red in the face. “What’s so funny?” “You.” “Me?’ “You.” She repeated, “thinking I’m your girlfriend.” Cassian placed his hands on his hips, not amused. “You are my girlfriend.” “I’m no one’s girlfriend.” She was no one’s. Feeling the mood turn sour, Morrigan got of the bed. Cassian grabbed her arm before she took another step. “Let go, Cass.” “I’m not done talking to you.” “Well, I am. Let go.” “Still scared of relationships, blondie?” “I’m not scared, let me go.” “Get over yourself, Mor. You are not a fucking child anymore. You’ll fuck me every other night but won’t date me? Cut the horseshit. We are going, playing the happy lovable couple, then we’ll come back here and I’ll give a reward.” He moved her hand to his groin, show her exactly what she was getting. “I don’t want your shabby reward!” she spat at him. “You sure? Let me chance your mind, then.” Under heavy protest, Cassian threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the bathroom, showing Morrigan the kind of rewards he had in mind.
True to her word, Mor didn’t go to Cassian’s stupid Christmas party… but she couldn’t escape his stupid New Year’s Eve party.
Cassian had nothing to do with that, of course. Going to that party was the only way she had of seeing Azriel, who was also being true to his word, cutting all contact since their latest break up. Her calls weren’t answered, his doorman wouldn’t let her up anymore, her threatening texts were ignored, and the one time she managed to see him, Mor had to beguile Cassian into convincing his brother she was the perfect model to appear in Marino’s cover. To the increase of her stress, Azriel had remained strictly professional during the shooting, ignoring her efforts to meet afterhours. And then, at that awful karaoke party, he had the audacity of kissing someone else.
Dressed in an elegant black cocktail gown, Mor sipped her wine, eyes trained at the table on the far end of the restaurant; a table Azriel shared with no other than her.
Her.
The poorly dressed child-like woman she saw him kissing that night.
The same woman Cassian, for some reason, judge worthy of receiving a separate introduction during New Year’s Eve. Oh, Mor noticed their matching shirts instantly. She also noticed the dumb stunned look in her face when Cassian called Mor his girlfriend. That woman wanted to fuck Cass. Badly. Which let Mor utterly confused when she spied her all over Az. Her Az.
Despite being emotional one in their relationship, there was one thing Azriel and Mor had in common: Az did not like public displays of affection. Never had. Yet, he let himself be kissed just to spite her. Now here he was, going as far as taking that woman out, pretending to be on a date, doing everything in his power to make her jealous.
Mor blinked at the sight of the lousy girl.
What was her name again? Elide? Elisa? Elena? Well, who cares!
In the back of her mind, Morrigan had a faint memory of that woman being on set the day she posed for Marinos. She also remembered not liking her one bit. Too bubbly for her taste, too excited, too… happy. No one was that happy. Besides, A woman like Elisa would never attract Azriel in a million years. His taste ran on the refined side of things, not on women who dressed in shirts with comics printed on it. He should have chosen a better partner to pretend to be with.
That day Mor left the studio with a searing headache after spending half the day listening to distasteful jokes being traded left and right between Elena and Cassian –who was also present the shooting, despite her explicitly asking him not to– acting as if they were two pre-teens in a locker room. The other half consisted in her and Azriel going back and forth in a thousand of small irrelevant discussions that no one else seemed to follow.
Mor pushed her sunglasses up, stunned by the way the woman pointed her finger in Az' face. Their yelling getting louder. “Ignore them. We all do.” Cassian advised her. “You should call security.” “Nah, Ellie is not violent.” He slid his arm across her shoulders. “This is nothing, you should have seen the May shooting. She threw a binder at him.” “She did what?” “Don’t worry. They’ll reach an agreement in a sec.” “This is absurd.” “Nope, just another day with Az and Ellie. Believe me, I get tired of it too.” “Why don’t you fire her?” “Can’t.” “Why?” “Azzy won’t let me.” At that, Mor frowned. Why wouldn’t Az fire someone he couldn’t work with?” “Why?” Cassian shrugged. “Beats me. Az turns me down every time I found a replacement. Said is a hassle to train someone else when Elain gets him.”
The whole conversation made no sense to Morrigan. The more she watched them, the more out of character Az acted. Contrary to what she had seen him do countless times in the past, Azriel did not order the photographer around. He did threaten to fire her countless times, but everyone could see he didn’t mean it. The worst part was watching him discussing ideas with her, listening to hers as well, going as far as incorporating her inputs in the itinerary.
That day Morrigan caught Azriel doing a measly a staff’s job because she asked him to.
Mor returned from reapplying make up, to catch Azriel and the photographer mid conversation, the couple conversing quietly in the corner of the set. “Marino,” “No.” “Marino, please!” “I said no.” “I keep getting shadows in her face.” “Have her under another light stand.” “I can’t! This is her best angle so far, I don’t want to lose it.” Azriel rubbed his temple. “Just photoshop the shadows away.” “You’re the one spanking my ass the other day for using too much photoshop!” Azriel’s ears turned pink. “I spanked no one’s ass!” he hushed stressed. “Figure of speech. Help me out, will ya?” “What do you want me to do, Archeron? There’s no electrician here.” “Hold it for me, please?” Elain held his hand in hers, bouncing up and down while blinking repeatedly. “Twenty minutes tops. Promise.” Struggling, Azriel pulled his hand from her grip, cleaning them with his pocket square. “Don’t be stupid, I won’t hold a light for twenty minutes ‘cause you want me to.”
As if the dialogue itself wasn’t bizarre, to see Azriel taking off his shoes to step in the sterile zone to hold a light stand had Morrigan shocked.
And as she sat here, in this restaurant, watching him hold the photographer’s hands, kissing her palms without a care in the world, Mor’s hatred for the yapping-girl ten folded.
Mor snickered into her glass, finding it funny how Azriel was doing everything in his power to get her attention. She didn’t know why he bother parading that one around. Soon she’d be nothing but a smudge in his latest attempt to break up with her. All those who came before her didn’t get a second date, this one would not either. Azriel Marino was obsessed with Morrigan Moretti, there was no space for anyone else in his heart, nor his mind.
In the distance, Azriel fixed the girl’s frizzy hair behind her ear, pinching the tacky earring daggling in her lobe. Mor's intention to sip her wine was replaced by her downing the entire goblet.
“How’s your lobster?” Her boring, bald, partner’s question caught her by surprise, bringing Mor’s attention back to her own table.
She sliced a piece of meat, curling her lips around her fork with an exaggerated moan.
“Delicious.”
Her companion’s eyes gleamed with malice.
She gave him a sultry smile, but in her mind, Mor was already back to ignoring him.
Azriel having a “date” in the same restaurant she was meeting with her newest spoon was no coincidence. The man new everything about her, there was no way he came here not knowing she had this dinner schedule for tonight. Stalker much? The boring man served her more wine, which Morrigan gladly accepted.
Well, since Azriel was trying his best to get her attention, Mor would be generous and grant his wish. After she was done with this sponsor, she’d visit Azriel to do what she did best: speed the inevitable end of his doomed relationship. And Azriel would go back to doing what he did best: pine for her.
~~~~~~~~~~
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alice-ness · 7 months ago
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i love to hate her
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cocotome · 3 months ago
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Hirarin decided to use the platform OPENREC for Hirakawanchi while NicoNico was down. In the latest episode, he does live gaming!! I can't wait to watch this lol. With NicoNico being back in business Aug 22, he's said all the missed episodes will be available on his Nico channel~
Looks like he played the Watermelon Game on Switch!!
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goingsparebutwithprecision · 5 months ago
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bugeyedfreaks · 1 year ago
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A personal pet peeve I have with some PPG fanart is that when certain artists do a "anime styled" version of the characters (mainly the PPGs and RRBs) it's usually a generic anime style. I feel like a more stylized/earlier anime look would look better for PPG (not counting PPGZ)
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I swear I’ve posted 90s style PPG on my blog before! I mean I’ve seen stuff floating around the internet that emulates this style… maybe I didn’t actually reblog any of it. I’m at least absolutely sure when the show was originally airing that there was a TON of 90s anime-styled artwork for the PPG. You probably would have to dig for it though.
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adore-gregor · 9 months ago
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soooo
#guys i'm dating someone again 🤭#and i rly hope it works out better this time 🥺#i already think i'm starting to fall for him adgjk#we had a 2nd date this week and it was good#i just feel comfortable around this guy honestly more than with the last one#it's also happening slower like no kiss on the first date lol altough it was good then i'm not mad about it#it makes me feel less pressured#the first date we went on a little walk (actually up a pretty steep hill in the city xd but with a lovely view) and then coffee#2nd date we went for breakfast and i'll probably see him again next week 🥰#and yeah this he's just so sweet and genuine i love that 🥺 i don't feel judged by him and it all feels more effortless#(with the other guy honestly i did at times feel intimidated about how he had his life together and that he'd judge me for mine lol)#also he's much more my type looks wise what i typically like he has such a cute smile and warm eyes 🥰 and also he's reaaaally tall haha#he's over 2m tall to be exact 😆 but not in an intimidating way and i'm also quite tall so i like this fact 🙈#but one thing which was so cute is when we met how his face lit up omg 🥺 and like how he looked at me 🥰#(the other guy was mostly hot in the very athletic fit body way with this one i find him attractive overall and also kind of cute)#and yeah i keep thinking about him and if i should text him but i never really know what to text 😂 i'm the worst texter#at times i don't even text my best friend like it's never personal i'm just better to meet in person hahah#and i'm just much happier these days thinking about him dgjkll 🤭🤭
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samisnotlegend · 1 year ago
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Not that this is exactly a risky conjecture, but your fic tells me you have strong feelings about inequity and community based on personal experience (and maybe a little bit of wishfulness). Also I associate you with the feeling "fierce joy."
Funny, I associate YOU with joy too. 🥰 But yep, spot on. I have big feelings about everything (though I actually don’t cry very often) and a lot of what happens in BB is based on personal experience. Only with softer and kinder outcomes. More wishful, exactly like you said.
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myokk · 2 months ago
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🌟✨️🌟If you receive this, you make somebody real happy! Go hop anon and send this to 10 of your followers who make you happy or somebody you think needs cheering up. If you get one back? Even groover! Stay strong, brave, and happy!🎖🌟🌟
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO SENT THIS TO ME🥹🫶🫶🫶
I REALLY LOVE TALKING TO ALL OF YOU !!!!!!! 😇🙏
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magistralucis · 1 year ago
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@absolut--kurant!
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scrawlingskribbles · 1 year ago
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waugh I’m so excitedddddd for wearing my costume at work on thursday lol ✨✨✨✨
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emersonfreepress · 2 years ago
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do the ROs have a favourite scent? not anything specific but, like, rain or cinnamon, things like that. just something they find relaxing/pleasant
ahh, probably 😅 but I'm not a terribly scent-oriented person, so I don't know if I'd be able to come up with decent answers for this!
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