#moongremlins

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

♫ (moongremlins)

SEND ONE FOR MY MUSE TO:  ♬: pick a song to describe your muse

“… you chased me down and broke in just when/I was done believing...” he sang softly, not looking at her.  

(Forever- by Red)

[ice-like-dreams]

(( I couldn't get it to post from there, but here's my Peter with Moon. (Sorry if I drew her wrong, Vega! ) He's trying to pretend that she's not there/he doesn't like her. ))

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

(Moongremlins) Love is... Something you have to work at. After the flames of infatuation fade and you realize the object of your affections isn't as perfect as you once thought they were. You could list off their annoying habits, but you never would because you don't want to hurt them. After the first tearful argument when you're on the brink of packing your things and leaving, but you choose to stick around and make it work. That's love.

“You are entitled to your own opinion on the matter, I suppose.” Peter muttered grudgingly, red eyes focused on the middle distance instead of the plate of food on the table before him- which he had yet to touch. 

In his experience, love was something all-encompassing and complete, blinding the victim to all but the object of their passion. What Moon called ‘infatuation’ was what he knew as love. Perhaps the two concepts worked differently in the different worlds. Maybe that was why Alice seemed so...cautious and cool with him. 

Or maybe he- maybe he was as broken as some would claim. 

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

(Tis Moongremlins if you want to) ┼ 8

SEND ME ┼ FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO WALKING IN ON YOUR MUSE8. Having a mental breakdown

Peter curled into the back corner of the can, clutching his head in his hands. Moon had gone out for- something or other; he didn’t even care- while he’d been sleeping. He didn’t even know how long she’d been gone. He’d woken only a short time before, from a dream of his beloved Alice, and realized with sudden sharpness that there was a chance- a very good chance- that he would never see her again. The one person who had ever cared, who had ever mattered to him, and he might never be able to go home to her.Even if he did, who was to say she hadn’t already forgotten him? It would be better for her, that way, but- 

He shuddered against the wall of the van, trying to calm himself down. Alice should forget him. His absence could only make that easier. He should be happy for her; without him, she could be happy. But it still felt as though his entire world was shattering beneath his feet. He gripped a hand around his clock, and it became a gun in his hand, more comforting than the constantly ticking timepiece, but not enough to put his mind at ease.  

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

(moongremlins if you wanna) “I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”

“If this were a fairy tale, you would be dancing with another man.” Peter retorted, spinning her around and dipping her, as the music dictated. There was a frown on his face below the edge of the mask he wore, but his voice was more resigned than vindictive.  

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

((for the synonyms of love thing I was about to laugh and be all 'okay but how likely is it that these'd actually be said', then I realized that a lot. A lot of them would be said because Moon's a fucking worrywart))

(( :) She's probably the only other one that wouldn't receive an acid-or-bullets response right off the bat, haha. )) 

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

(Moongremlins if you want) "I'm a Monster"

"As am I. Sometimes, it would appear that being a monster is the only way to survive." 

[cold-sunday-afternoons]

(( Hi guys. Gonna try and be around here more, but I was wondering if there were any rps you guys wanted to continue? Lemme know, yeah? ))