Jan 19, 2018
*s q u i n t s* I feel a t t a c k e d I shall torture whomever I so wish
[gently sets all of your OCs on the top shelf where you can’t hurt ‘em] no.
seen from Australia
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seen from United States
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*s q u i n t s* I feel a t t a c k e d I shall torture whomever I so wish
[gently sets all of your OCs on the top shelf where you can’t hurt ‘em] no.
[loud banging on his door] "Frenchiee! I'm boored! Come play with meeee! You won't regret iiit!" ~Ont
[hums]
“Do you want to visit the woods? You can talk, and when I get bored I can throw you into the river. Bon?”
@rcrp-ontario
"Colin. Kiss him." -Hali (( :'D
Cal blinked awkwardly. “Kiss... who?”
@rcrp-halifax
[text] So. Funny story. [text] I'm heading into work this morning, all normal like. [text] Then, as I'm stepping into my office, a giant Quebec flag drops down on top of me and now my hair, skin and clothes are all died blue. [text] I couldn't help but wonder if you had any sort of explanation for this? ~Ont
There’s a long pause.
[text] That depends.
[text] How much is your dry-cleaning bill most of the time?
@rcrp-ontario
Aislynn looked both ways to make sure no one was around before running up to his door. A hockey stick, fully decorated with the Québécois flag, was tightly gripped in one hand. A card that read 'Happy birthday, old man Frenchie' and single iris was in the other. Upon reaching the door, she carefully propped the hockey stickup in front of it, tying the card and iris to the handle with a ribbon. Ringing the doorbell, the Ontarian hastily bolted around a corner, wanting to watch without being seen.
The door swung open. Jean stood in the doorway, completely decked out in bright whites, dark blues, streamers and fleurs-de-lys. His freckled cheeks and brown hair were streaked throughout with navy paint and dye, accompanied by a single flag iris tucked neatly behind his ear.
He looked down at the hockey stick, picked it up and furrowed his brow. There was a card attached, from the looks of it. Carefully, he untied it from the stick and opened it, mouthing what he was reading to himself. He then looked up, frowning. "Ouest...?"
haut-mun replied to your post “Why does this blog have more followers than my actual rp blogs”
Idk dude but I'm suffering the same fate
;w;
Omg it actually worked congrats on defeating the tumblr dude
Ayy thank fren
Concept: Ont and Queb go camping. Queb gets woken up in the middle of the night to Ont s c r e e c h i n g bloody m u r d e r, two cans of bugspray in each hand, viciously spraying at a poor, lone black fly that somehow made its way into the tent. There are multiple cans that look hastily discarded and empty scattered all across the tent. Queb is laughing his a$$ off.
pFFFHAH AHAHAHAH AHAA A A
“c’MON, JEAN. HE DESERVES IT.”