mark hides in his work.

SEND A  ☀ FOR A ONE LINER / ACCEPTING.

SEND A  ☀ FOR A ONE LINER / ACCEPTING.

SEND A  ☀ FOR A ONE LINER / ACCEPTING.

SEND A  ☀ FOR A ONE LINER / ACCEPTING.

– basics.

•  name: freddie has been my super cool longstanding alias •  pronouns: ur best american girl she/they •  sexuality: biconic bisexual

– three facts.

•   i hurt my knee bad 4 years ago ( while tap dancing of all things ) and now i can almost always tell when it’s going to rain •  scorpio •   im the justin mcelroy to @alphi-1​‘s travis and @gunjumped​‘s griffin

– experience.

•   how long (months / years?): probably like....6 years or something Ridiculous •   platforms you’ve used: polyvore ( IK!!!! ), chatzy, skype, tumblr •   best experience: super duper cheesy but i’ve met some of my best friends on this stinkin’ website. my very own found family dynamic.

– muse preferences.

•   female or male: depends??? i write a lot of nb kids bcs gender is fake •   fluff, angst or smut: a,,,ngst???? angst. •   plots or memes: PLOTS because i’m great at talking and slow w/ answering memes •  long or short replies:  i genuinely really enjoy both, but long replies almost always means a longer wait. like my boy seamus, i’ve got an attention deficit disorder that’ll swoop in to kick my butt in the middle of some nice prose. •   best time to write:  right before bed or in the weird afternoon hours i have free. •   are you like your muse(s): i don’t think i’ve written anybody who’s been properly str8 in Years so there’s that coincidence. a few of my ocs are very consciously facets of myself in someway ( i.e. bruin is loss n depression and max is anger and ptsd ) and i usually do wind up relating to my muses in a way, but like i’ve dropped matt murdock as a blog 4 times bcs he’s too much like me??? if that makes sense. a Delicate balance.

@outtlasts ! got fleur constanta 

   fleur doesn’t want to startle him.  her approach towards him is slow and she thanks whoever, that she has a face that’s sweet. now, fleur knows that the most elegant demons look like angels ; it’s her aura that makes her face the real deal. she means no harm. she will do no harm, but she takes no shit ! just like how it goes. fleur stops when she gets to him and gives him her biggest smile, bold and bright like her body in the sky.   “   hi, beloved ! i wanted to tell you. your scarf is so cute.    “ 

beloved. beloved ? it’s enough of an informal formality that he ties his tongue trying to think if a pet name is owed in return. from his lips to her ears it might sound too much like a pick up, and sheesh she is astoundingly ethereal, but he swears there’s no such intent.  ‘ thanks. ’ 

@outtlasts, starter call

No but “if you called your ma could she- She could wire you somethin’ right?”

@outtlasts​ / from this meme ( still accepting ! ).

       edith never tires of places like these: hole in the wall bars where green musicians come to hone their skills and audiences are full of nobodies. the mid-sixties has seen a peak in the folk revival. edith’s career has exploded, but there are downsides. namely corporate claws grasping at the genre ; tourists flocking to the city to ogle at the most inauthentic of acts. 

          it depresses her ( but what doesn’t ? ). it makes escape vital.

          in the pauses between musical acts, overlapping conversations and clinking glasses become more pronounced through the haze of cigarette smoke. edith is alone at a table for one. her eyes are closed ; her head sways imperceptibly as she continues to hum the last melody that performed. abruptly, she addresses the poor soul to her left. 

          “you ought to put that away.”

          she refers to the young man’s super-8 camera. how or when she noticed it, nobody knows. perhaps her artistic intuition has given her eyes in the back of her head !

he’s sitting at a table amongst strangers, so to think he might recognize any voice in this place is, in and of itself, a great surprise. to find that of all people he knows by name, it is edith walls telling him off for filming---- well, mark’s hard pressed to put his finger on the feeling. his stomach must flip over at least twice.

          the camera clicks off and settles in his lap, any urge to protest quelled by a present state of dodgy sobriety. like any good dive in the basement of a townhouse, the staff settles the price of entertainment in a drink minimum. it’s a good business strategy, considering there’s no guarantee the musicians are worth the price of a flat admission, but tonight’s no proof to that point. the acts have only been preforming with the rawness of talent seen fit to be preserved on b&w kodak film stock. ( mark cohen once again ! reviving his role as resident documentarian. )