#everbleak

   s’rough, buddy. watching the megabus you missed     stroll leisurely down the street, leaving you in the dust.

          welp, things could have gone a lot worse.           . . . though honestly, they could have gone            a lot better, too. no time for frustrations now,           though. sun goes down soon, and you need            to find a place to sleep. 

SEND ME ❤ ON ANON AND I’LL COMPLIMENT SOMEONE AT RANDOM!

♒ : How my muse would describe yours in one sentence.

   He might be a little tipsy, an abrupt fountain of giggles escaping his system before he’s shh-ing himself and coughing, forcing himself to act seriously. “Pretty as a peach, sweet as...candy.” 

✘ : What one thing they would change about your muse.

56. How did you learn about roleplaying? How did you get started roleplaying yourself?

This is so embarrassing.  Okay so basically, there’s this soap in the United Kingdom called Eastenders. Back before my love for One Direction sparked, and before I’d learnt about Sam Claflin and creating your own characters I fell in love with this couple called Jay and Abi. They were my otp for a good, long time ( they still kind of are though they’ve broken up ) I Facebooked their names and found these people playing them. And one of the Abi’s didn’t have a Jay and then I felt inspired and needed to make her one. I facebook rp’d for a long time, playing this character called Alfie Jones ( Who was surprisingly a lot like another muse I know. ) And he got married to a vampire and to this other girl and it was a mess but I loved him and I remember finding on google a Glee Tumblr RP where they were proposing via song? ( which has actually happened to my character now please ) and I made my first muse, who didn’t last long because I can’t play girls for shit, I’ve never been able to. So yeah, then I started making my boys and things spiraled. 

59. What/Who is a character you think you would like to roleplay? What’s currently stopping you from roleplaying them?

baldur: GRAMMIE GUESS WHAT

“revising is boring.” they’ve been whining pretty much the entire day, so it’s no surprise that they’re still carrying on, sat on the sofa next to charlie with their feet tucked up underneath them. their mouth is pressed into a line, and they’re not even looking at him; rather, their eyes are trained on a little piece of lint on their sweats, which they pick off with a mournful, long-suffering sort of air about them. “lets go outside. lets do something.”