[ ...It’s been... three years since I’ve been on here? How’s the world now? Tell me all about how my boy grew up without me. I don't know this roleplaying world anymore, but I do want back in. Help. :( ]
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@pensivemercury
[ ...It’s been... three years since I’ve been on here? How’s the world now? Tell me all about how my boy grew up without me. I don't know this roleplaying world anymore, but I do want back in. Help. :( ]
I MISSED U.
[ I MISSED YOU TOO. ]
pensivemercury replied to your post: sees SQ BTS photosinternal dilemma
swan queen would make me watch it. def.
is it so wrong to want the two parents of a child to SEE that they care for each other and that maybe that compassion is more than either of them expected from anyone? they’re Henry’s mothers, and they are always there for each other in whatever way, to calm the other down or to get them their happy ending. like, c’moN IT’S SO OBVIOUS THAT THIS SHOULD BE CANON
it will be. we can sacrifice for this.
insanely unpopular opinion
I will undoubtedly get hate and unfollowed for this, but I’m sick of it. I am sick of it, an I want to say something about it.
Afficher davantage
Happy Alice Day.
this has been in my queue for literally a year
It’s been 150 years.
politics-without-principle : Curiosity cages me to its claim and thus, I must inquire, is this the only site in which you write on? Have you’ve tried others for role play, particularly, Roleplayer.me, by chance? My inquiry is self-ensured, you see, I write on the account, as Emma… and I could use such skill as you’ve shown in your portrayal as Hatter. Am I overstepping to ask if you would consider a second site to write on and join me? I’ll delve into the details if this thieves your intrigue. [ Oh sweetheart I’m sorry! I definitely was not around when you sent this, though I’m not sure when you sent this haha. I used to use roleplayer.me but I deleted it, but I suppose if you ever see this, you can send me another ask and I’ll swap skypes with you for details about my using a second site :) ]
“This town...” He pinches the bridge of his nose; he is content with isolating himself, but Grace’s trips to school have been... rather demanding, as of late. All the more reason to home-school her. “...is maddening.”
[ I am here... and my god it’s been years. Or maybe like four months. But years. ]
justcallmejolly a réagi à votre billet “[ Has anyone else found that going to University full time is a damn...”
//*snuggles you* we don't talk about the things that happen on tumblr. It is full of fucking cray.
[ I DO NOT COMPREHEND THIS FORMAT. ]
[ Has anyone else found that going to University full time is a damn good way to think wistfully about slipping into a coma? ]
imsebastianstan: When I started to believe in Monday. #2015
[ pensivemercury ]
Sнe wants to dance to the music. Her body wants to sway to the thrum of the beat, like small, energizing vibrations on her skin.
But she refrains; on duty means that she can’t fully lose herself in the crowd, she can’t allow herself to let the beat, the strobing lights, take her completely. Yes, she pretends—pretends that the alcohol in her drink has effected her, that the subtle sway of her hips is indication enough that she’s lost to the moment, no longer connected to reality.
Her mind, however, is glued to reality far too much.
Every body, perspired and sweaty, that pushes and grinds against her makes her want to scream. This isn’t Wendy’s—no, tonight, she wasn’t Wendy. Moira—place. All she can think of is her purpose for being here. She reminds herself that there’s a reason she hasn’t punched the owner of every groping hand she felt, that there’s a reason she put on such tight, confining clothes, that her lips were a bright vermillion.
She has to entice the right person—the right monster—and she can’t do that if she’s in a wool sweater and jeans.
Moira—get used to that, she tells herself, tonight you’re not Wendy—pushes through the crowd, her hand craned overhead to keep her drink safe; all the while, her eyes glance around. To this day, she still isn’t sure why it’s so easy to spot them; they’ve learned to blend in so easily, but there’s just something about them that ticks her off.
And she’s sure that this is their place. So many girls have gone missing from here. She’s so sure.
The barkeep is kind to her when she hands him the glass, re-filling it (how many of those has she had? One, two, and she’s still sober?). She can hear him speak, but she doesn’t seem to pay attention as she watches the crowd, hazel hues focusing on individuals that catch her eye.
A hand drifts down, tugging at the hem of her skirt, the leather straps wrapped around her thighs, uncomfortable, but a necessary thing considering what she managed to sneak into the club. She can feel the sharp points prick her fingers; she’s gotten used to the familiar sting. It’s her only reassurance that she was safe, should she come across one.
“Pickings are slim tonight, aren’t they?” She says aloud, just as she reaches back to grab her drink. “I suppose I’m going home alone tonight, yeah?”
But she can’t. What kind of hunter would she be if she returned empty-handed?
Everything reeks of blood. Hearts are pounding, blood is rushing-- he can imagine he sees it. (or does he see it? being the beast he is, perhaps he can locate the glow of a living's blood) Centered in their chest; a fire down from their naval, their wrists red-- necks exposes, pulsing, matching the beat of the music and begging to be ripped apart, for pretty lights in pretty eyes to die--eyes with pupils far too dilated to go cold and dead as bodies go listless in his arms. He could devour them all, he thinks, staring around the club. It was not a dingy place, no... tainted blood was nothing he could ever grow accustomed to. Blood addled and thinned by disease or low-grade drugs always left a sour taste in his mouth, a thrumming in his head that only made his hunger grow. But the club being as it was... a little more upper-scale, a little more guarded, human guards and he would swear on his undeath that there was at least one hunter in the room tonight-- he could not simply kill them all. Though it was very, very tempting. But instead... instead, he had two wants in mind. One, to find that hunter he knew, knew would be in here. (He was a frequenter, here, and it was not unknown how he liked to toy with his food, his prey.) Two, if he could not-- sometimes they hid well, and even currently he was torn between three suspects-- perhaps a pretty young thing could do, some lovely little lady that would scream so deliciously when he bit. Perhaps one who's lips color shared a cruel irony of her assumed fate, one he may have been eyeing since she got in. Her scent was not entirely that of alcohol-- though he could smell it, she seemed a little too alert for the quantity ingested-- nervous young girl, perhaps. Somehow not in his suspected three- he assumed her paranoid, perhaps seeking a friend? No... no, something else. Something he'd be sure to find out. Paranoia was key to how much she would fight-- how well she would fight, how fast and pure her blood could run. Or, as a common factor amongst hunters he'd stumbled across-- she could perhaps turn the list into four suspects. Regardless, he did find himself fond of her neck, and the lithe way she seemed to move her body. Naturally, this meant he was to move closer to her-- a brush of arms; a smile-- no accident, and he was certain she knew as much. "Have you been alone all evening?" Yes, of course she has. "You must know it's not safe for such a pretty woman to come alone." A glint in his eyes could only further aid the disturbing air to him, assuredly.
[ Happy birthday to me, I really need to get back on here, la la la la... ]
[ Happy new year; all of you, I love you all :-) ]
I'll probably never get the nerve up to rp with you because you're just so good wow but I just love reading your drabbles and threads ^_^
[ Aw, darling! You can surely roleplay with me, I'm not that good! ]