DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER WHEN I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS BLOG OH MAN I MISS IT.
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@emptylifc
DO YOU GUYS REMEMBER WHEN I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS BLOG OH MAN I MISS IT.
markcohxn:
- a dead crow (prp emptylifc)
… nobody knows anyone. strangers come and violate you. strangers come and cut your heart out. strangers come and take your blood. good god, who were those men? …
the night is dark and littered with dirt, with glass, with scowling faces, just as it always is. cold air stretches the city, suffocates it. hands shake. breath fogs. also note – the stairs to the right floor of their building are everest. his lungs burn, vision blurs, fingers fumble desperately for his keys. in his pocket, please, god, he didn’t drop them. say he didn’t drop them.
he didn’t. that’s probably the last of his good luck right there, no doubt. he catches himself leaning heavily on the wall as he unlocks the door, catches the world spin around him, catches – a lot of things. focus, mark. focus. there’s this whine of a breath he doesn’t realise he’s letting out until he’s inside and shutting the door behind him, shaking.
mark cohen, in short, looks like shit. there’s a cut on his forehead that must not be too old, because there’s blood that’s dripped down his face – almost into one eye, notice his glasses are gone – and while his lip bleeds considerably less, it’s definitely bleeding. the idea of stepping inside without anything to lean on is an impossible one, so once the door is locked he has to steady himself against it a second.
there’s a place where his coat’s bloodstained, just one sleeve, but whatever it is is nearly obscured; he’s been clutching his camera tightly like someone’s going to tear it away. (there’s a weakness in his knees, but he can’t-shouldn’t let himself sit down or fall.)
the violent trembling is accompanied by silence. he’s hardly even looked up from the space between the wall and the floor. something’s gone wrong. something’s gone very wrong.
the only light he’s allowing into the room filters through the curtains of his bedroom window, but it’s just enough to illuminate the notebook in his lap and the guitar at his side. he couldn’t sleep so he might as well write. the best ideas come in the late of night. a cigarette b u r n s between his fingers, the white smoke clouding the air but it’s comfortable. he’s comfortable. despite the lack of sleep, he feels good, stable. like maybe he can actually get this song done and even start another. he wishes he could be so lucky. he’s scribbling down words about stars and brilliant eyes, blond hair and a bright smile. he’s not going to scrap this song. no, this is going to be a good one. he knows it is. at least.. at least, he thinks he does. god, he can only hope. he can only hope. hoping is the one thing roger knows he can do, at the very least. it takes him several moments to realize it’s late and mark isn’t home. his brows furrow and he rises to his feet, slow, stretching his limbs and giving in to a threatening yawn. he shuffles out of his room and stands by the window behind the couch, staring at the sky in complete silence. like a young teenage girl, he begins counting the stars. the familiar sound of a shutting door snaps him out of his dreaming and he turns, a small smile playing at his lips. but it falters almost immediately when he sees the state of his best friend. worry washes over him, concern flowing through his veins. suddenly, he doesn’t feel content and groggy anymore. he closes the distance between him and mark, gentle hands taking his arm. “god, please don’t fall. and please, don’t pass out.”
Send me a ✖ if you ever wanted to rp with me, send me a ✿ if you really like my muse/ how i portray them.
Send an “Ѡ” for my muse’s reaction to being sent accidental nudes.
HELLO
send me hello and i’ll answer…
If we kissed:
[] This wouldn’t happen.[] Oh disgusting.[] Again, again.[x] Kiss you back.[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.[] Slap/Push you away.[x] Be confused
If you asked me out I’d say:
[] Um no.[] I’m taken-[x] Sure.[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.
Can we cuddle?:
[] No.[] Ew.[x] Sure.[] YES.
Sex?:
[x] Let’s do it.[] No. You can’t handle my d.[] FUCK YES.[] No.
Should you reblog this?:
[] Yes. I want to send you one.[] Yes.[] No.
hello >:}
send me hello and i’ll answer…LOL
If we kissed:
[] This wouldn’t happen.[] Oh disgusting.[] Again, again.[x] Kiss you back.[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.[] Slap/Push you away.[x] Be confused
If you asked me out I’d say:
[] Um no.[] I’m taken-[x] Sure.[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.
Can we cuddle?:
[] No.[] Ew.[x] Sure.[x] YES.
Sex?:
[x] Let’s do it.[] No. You can’t handle my d.[] FUCK YES.[x] No.(he’s torn for obvious reasons.)
Should you reblog this?:
[] Yes. I want to send you one.[x] Yes.[] No.
Send me a HELLO and i'll answer...
If we kissed:
[] This wouldn’t happen.
[] Oh disgusting.
[] Again, again.
[] Kiss you back.
[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.
[] Slap/Push you away.
[] Be confused
If you asked me out I’d say:
[] Um no.
[] I’m taken-
[] Sure.
[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.
Can we cuddle?:
[] No.
[] Ew.
[] Sure.
[] YES.
Sex?:
[] Let’s do it.
[] No. You can’t handle my d.
[] FUCK YES.
[] No.
Should you reblog this?:
[] Yes. I want to send you one.
[] Yes.
[] No.
send me your url and i’ll post 3-5 icons that sum up my muse’s feelings on yours
Rainy Day Starters
“It’s never going to stop!”
“I think there’s a leak in the roof.”
“Rain drops keep fallin’ on my head.”
“And I’m singin’ in the rain, just singin’ in the rain!”
“We should get the candles in case the lights go out.”
“It’s cold. Scoot over and cuddle with me.”
“Ugh!! My socks are soaked.”
“I left my umbrella at home and now it’s coming down a flood.”
“It’s thundering so loud.”
“I have a confession. I am afraid of storms.”
“Well, I was going to go, but then water soaked through my shoes and got my socks wet so fuck that.”
“I love the sound of rain on the roof.”
“I think I’m going to sleep this rainy day away.”
“I love the rain.”
“Why don’t you kiss me in the rain?”
“Watch out for the mud puddles.”
“Can I borrow your truck? My car is stuck in the mud.”
“Let’s sleep in today.”
“I’m thinking it’s a movie and cuddled on the couch in a blanket type of day.”
“If you don’t come back inside, you’re going to catch a cold”
“I wonder if it’s going to get cold enough to snow.”
“It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring…”
“Rain, rain go away. Come again another day.”
“Come dance with me in the rain.”
“Just our luck, it would rain on the actual parade.”
“Can I sleep with you? I’m afraid of storms.”
“You know you can count how far the storm is by the thunder.”
“Lightning never strikes in the same place twice.”
“The weather said there was a chance of a tornado.”
“I hate rain.”
“The roads are flooded. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO HOT CHELLE RAE.
markcohxn:
he shouldn’t be surprised. and he isn’t, really, but it makes the loft feel unfriendly and – and nothing, he’s got things to think about. (got work to do, god only knows roger’s azt is lost to the ages and they’ll have to buy more earlier than planned…) “yeah.” standing, pacing toward where he left his messenger bag – “i actually… i have to revise this shooting script, it’s…” some project maureen ‘helpfully’ got him roped into.
there’s a tightness in his chest that he wishes would just disappear. he rubs his chest absentmindedly as if that’ll ease his hurt, eyes focused on the window. he decides to stretch out on the couch, head resting against the arm as he continues to look out the window. he can’t see much, but it’s better than looking at mark. “go do your thing. don’t die.”
markcohxn
i wish i could take a nap oh my god but i still have to get stuff ready for dinner & clean and i’m like :) :) :) welcome to hell :) :) :)
au where people actually freakin appreciate female muses l m a o
markcohxn:
“doesn’t mean it’s not true.” there’s maybe some apologetic edge to the way he pulls his hand away from roger’s; his own nervous habit, hands never still, has come back a vengeance. the defensiveness on his roommate’s part has him glancing away, voice quieter – “no, i know. i wasn’t…”
and then the air feels different in the room and roger doesn’t like the idea of laying on the floor much anymore. he licks his lips, glancing away from his best friend. roger pushes himself to sit up once more., hands rubbing together slowly. finally, he gets to his feet, the room spinning for a brief moment before he sits on the couch. “i’m just.. i’m gonna sit here. for a while.”
what if you spoke in your icon’s voice for an entire week