talktoten:
@hcpscotched liked for a v v v small starter
  âWhat dâyou mean?â
âI mean he turned into a black cloud and killed Ma... Just like I said.â
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@hcpscotched-blog
talktoten:
@hcpscotched liked for a v v v small starter
  âWhat dâyou mean?â
âI mean he turned into a black cloud and killed Ma... Just like I said.â
stroke my ego pls
okay because im genuinely curious, can you tell me ( anon or not ) what my reputation is in the rp community? this encompasses what my reputation is in my fandom, as well as/or my reputation in the community as a whole. can be positive or negative, for constructive criticism is HIGHLY appreciated, just as compliments are. pls and thank u.
@qceenbambiâ
Pshh... Obviously dancing. Why?Â
Yalll should follow this babe who is close to her first milestone!Â
âYou are family.â
boy memes world ; @hcpscotchedâ
    Never in his life would he have thought that he would be meeting Modestyâs mother, let alone arguing with her to try to prove a point. It was like trying to make a point to a brick wall, honestly, and he was getting irritated with every word she spoke. Itâs not long before he goes off on her. âWell when the fuck were you raised, the sixteenth century?â     She reaches for Modesty, her lips pressed together so tightly, Eliot is certain that her face is going to turn inside out on itself. He laughs and takes a step forward, shaking his head. âNo, I⊠I think itâs better if she didnât go with such a⊠how do I put it? Wrinkled prune with a stick up her ass? Sounds âŠfairly accurate.â    Her mother scoffs, stepping up to Eliot insistantly, telling him that she has family things to attend to. Going on about how she needs a family. He hears Modesty whisper something, and he leans down, a sign for her to repeat herself.     You are family. He grins widely and looks at the girl, nodding before standing back up to face her mother a final time. âYes.. Absolutely right. She has family. With us. Come on Modesty, we have family things to attend to.â He turns around, not listening to her mother shouting back at them. Instead he just tries to guide Modesty away without another word, a grin of confidence on his face.
Send me âblack birdâ for a darker memory of my museâs past.
i will defend you with my last breath
sciencebuilt:
He nodded again. âYou know I have to tell someone if sheâs hurting you like this.â He kept his tone soft as he spoke again. âWhatever the reason, it was NOT YOUR FAULT. Even if she said it was, it wasnât. Nothing warrents this kind of treatment from a guardian.â He didnât think it would be this difficult to phrase. âI have to make a report.âÂ
âNo, no, no, no, no, you canât,â pleaded the child, who fought the very strong pain medicine in her system to try to sit up straighter, already beginning to tear up. âYou donât understand. Ma... Sheâs going to be so mad, and she.. Sheâll be mad at me, but Credence---â Modesty cut herself off, terrified now--- worried to death of what was going to happen to her brother if this came out, how Mary Lou might hurt him too. âI donât be bad again. No more accidents, I promise.âÂ
goldpatched:
hcpscotched started following you
*intense stare of adoption*
sciencebuilt:
It wasnât the FIRST TIME he heard that phrase. He had over heard it many times in some of the hospitalâs he interned at. He nodded once and put the pen and clipboard down to the side. In all his years as a doctor he had never personally had to approach the subject with a child. Pulling up the stool, he sat down in front of her and clasped his hands between his knees. âModesty did your mother have something to do with your ACCIDENT? You donât have to answer, Iâm just concerned that sheâs hurting you.â
âI was bad.â Modesty whispered, still taking most of the fault on her own, but the doctor asked her if her mother had done something and she had.  She couldnât omit her mother entirely from the events that took place. âI donât think she meant to twist my arm as much as she did... She stopped when the popping happened.âÂ
sciencebuilt:
He wasnât sure how to feel about the woman that arrived with Modesty. There was something off about her, something he couldnât quite put his finger on. âSheâs in the waiting room. I prefer to hear what happened from the one it happened to, if possible that is.â He knew how most ignored what children had to say, he preferred to hear the story from the source.
Modesty felt... stuck. She knew if she told the truth sheâd be in a lot more trouble, but wasnât a good servant of the Lord suppose to be hones, especially to those who were taking care of her. âShe ... wouldnât like me to say,â the child finally managed, finding it the perfect compromise. It was honest, but still it revealed nothing of what happened.Â
Send me a faceclaim and Iâll tell you who theyâd be in my museâs life as a NPC
â
meme.
Modesty BareboneSeventh Bed on the LeftSaint Angnesâ Home for Wayward GirlsNew York, New York
Dear Modesty,
I hope that my owl finds you well, or rather, that he is able to find you at all. Really, the old bird has seen better days. I am writing to you on behalf of your brother, Credence. He wishes to inform you that he is well, and that he deeply regrets any trouble he has caused. He never meant to frighten you. If you are agreeable, he would like to see you. We think we may be able to offer some assistance to your situation. We will be by on Tuesday next.
Best wishes,
Percival Graves
â
Deer QI no you like Fillory but its not a nice place. I dont think you lied. i dont think you new . Im sorry Fillory is a bad place, You dont have to talk about it. Just wanted to tell you Im sorry it wasnt right. But you can make it more right now that you are king. You and Eliot and Margo and Alice (and maybe Penny if we unbreek his hands)We can fix Fillory.
LoveModesty
"You aren't clothes, silly! You can't be a top or a bottom! You're a person, Q!"
@hcpscotched ℠top or bottom?
    â Modesty please go back to your room â â He can hear Eliot and Margo muffling their laughter, the conversation meant for THEIR ears only. Not the eight year old sleeping on the floor of his bedroom.
Send me â and my muse will write yours a letter.
How are you so wise???
trauma