chssbrd

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ind. sel. priv. multimuse by Snom/Des/Quinn.  Follows from @clearlyqueerquinn

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im moving my bios to my new blog and then i think i’ll delete this one. i need a fresh start

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So, I’ll be deleting this blog around 2/1/21-2/4/21, anywhere between those dates. I’ll be relocating in that time. Thank you all.

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Based on the character(s) you see me play, send me another character you think I could write well

On anon or not

Maybe I’ll start playing them!

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Liam swears Scott is an angel in the shape of a werewolf. 

❝ I’m old. I don’t even know anything to justify it, I’m over four centuries old. I just... I want to stay with you as long as you’ll let me, Scott. ❞

please don’t regret me -liam to scott perhaps?

“Regret?” Scott tilted his head, unsure of where the question even came from. “Why would I regret you, Lee?”

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Shipping Call - Send me one if you want to plot one or more of these

💚 - friendship 💙 - kinship ( blood or symbolic familial bond ) 💔 - past relationship 💜 - hateship ( they hate each other but can’t stay away ) 💛 - hateship ( enemies ) 💟 - friends with benefits ❤ - romantic relationship

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I am an impulsive roleplayer.

I let my muse take the reins and decide what threads to start or reply to in a given day. If the muse doesn’t feel it, it isn’t happening. That doesn’t mean that I hate you or that I no longer want to interact with you; I probably either lost our thread or my muse just said, ‘nah bro.’

I’m sorry I drop threads. I’m sorry I don’t reply to memes. I’m sorry I ignore my asks. I’m sorry I plot things and then don’t do them. I’m an impulsive roleplayer: my muse guides me.

Roleplaying isn’t my job: it’s my hobby. I do it for fun. My muse isn’t my coworker: my muse is my friend. We have fun together. If I started treating this as a job, it wouldn’t be enjoyable for me anymore, and the quality of my content would diminish greatly!

And while we’re on the subject, just because a thread gets dropped does not mean the relationship between our muses is dead!! Thread =/= relationship! We can start something new and continue building their bond! Relationships are important to building new aspects of our muses!

I always want to roleplay with you. Just…perhaps not with that thread. You feel?

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ALSO. TO ANYONE WHOS EVER SENT ME AN ASK

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What do you want to tell me? Put a symbol in my ask box:

❊ I want to roleplay with you

✸ I want to plot with you

✤ I want to ship with you

✥ I have roleplayed with you and it was great

❦ I sort of secretly ship a thing with your muse(s)

✷ I wish our characters was friends

✢ I like your characters

✱ I don’t like your characters

✣ I like the way you express your muse(s)

✫ I don’t like the way you express your muse(s)

☬ I feel like your characters are underdeveloped

❂ I don’t agree on all your headcanons

✡ I agree on all your headcanons

❋ Your blog is one of my favs

✦ I like seeing you on my dash 

✵ I don’t follow you for roleplay

✧ I wish you would notice me

✩ You intimidate me

✪ You seem like a cool person

✺ You’re hard to approach

✻ I wish you weren’t so shy

❄ I look up to you

❆ I love your art

❇ I love the way you write 

* I want to learn to know you

# I’m too shy to approach to you

☓ We should talk!

♥ *Your choice what to write*

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❝ You taste the silver, Sara ! You taste the crown. You thirst for B L O O D from the R O S E S in hand.

Ind. Slightly canon div. Miranda Vanderbilt from Monster Prom crowned by Snom. Sideblog to @chssbrd

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arachne monster prom oc;;;;

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eyoo ! maurice / mori here and i need some financial help !! i need to get some money for the basic needs like sanitation products as well as food most likely ? anyways toss a penny to me via ko-fi  or if youre more into art for yourself, why not check my commissions !

rbs are appreciated and my dms are open here if anyone’s interested! please help out your local trans goofball! <3

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send me a ‘dibs’ if you are ridiculously attached to me as an rp partner

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Continuing my Tumblr-Renaissance with The Evil Within fanarts because I fell in love with these games (and basically horror survivals) this year.

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1-0-1-9​:

Unnnnn-fortunately, but, well… hardly unexpectedly?

She wasn’t wrong.

He stood there, leaned up in an easy, half-hangin’ slump to where he gripped a jail-cell bar in each fist, grinnin’ with anticipation at some kindova show - the general joy of observation, as it often-a went for him - with the sole of one shoe alternatingly bouncing his leg in the air and bluntly, bluntly ‘drilling’ in slowwww-swingin’ turns against the ground beneath him.

For now? A whole lot of nothing didn’t exactly… not count as something to observe! Something to sit there knowin’ from a place of lofty schadenfreude about - checkin’ in on someone just all huddled still elicited the obligatory starting response of ‘awh - you ain’t havin’ much fun in there, are ya – ? Awwwwh… Awwwwwh!!’, even if it wasn’t as eventful as seein’ someone try to choke down the shittiest-it-had-ever-been fare up for supper in this fuckin’ residence.

And so… yeah!

He was, in fact, all smiles.

And hell - the goddamn… coals of smugness were only warmin’ in his chest to turn it up higher, a little bit at a time, even with her freakin’ not-gonna-humor-that sittin’-all-tucked-up-…ness, up until…!

She spoke!

And on the dot, his brow ticked ever-so-slightly raised and furrowed, mouth forming a tiny just-rounded shape.

False mild interest.

A ‘huh – …’ at hearing something that you weren’t quite hoping to hear.

His brow raised higher, unknitting, as he pulled himself harder against his side of the bars on one end, streeeeeeetchin’ his height out diagonally, voice comin’ in, likewise, with a subtle, stretchin’ creak out as it swelled…!

“ …IIIIIII only figured it was right a’ me to keep on checkin’ in to see how the accommodations are holdin’ up – …! ”

Iiiiiiiin spite of himself, his grin bit ‘n flexed tight as he pushed the word ‘accommodations’ out a bit too heavy - just part of a spiteful-ass snicker the edge a’ which still held tight under his ribs.

He slumped his weight further against the bars; hung heavier and flatter, while he nodded up ‘n let it drop, with a mechanical one-two just-short-of-sharp rhythm to it, as his voice keened in more concentrated. Sharper.

“ Stiiiill ain’t feelin’ homey enough to get into the routine a’ shit like supper – ” Another semi-mechanical if vague nod to the plate loosely piled with rancid colors and oilslick gleam as his eyes passed to it, then back… “ - ehh, Mommy – ?! ”

Needling a biiiiiiit particularly high at the end…!

Mrs. Favorite of the Fucked-Up Baby Duckling – !

❝ I’m not your Mommy. I’m not Evie’s, and I’m not Zoe’s. I’m no one’s. You know, If Evie REEEALLY wanted me to stay, she wouldn’t have you guys cage me up like an animal. ❞ She muttered, crossing her arms. ❝ So, when are you going to finally fucking kill me? two days, three? let me starve to death? What’s your plan this time, Mr. Baker. ❞ She knew he didn’t really like being called that, and she wanted to tempt fate. Death would be fine by now.

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🥇 !

!!!!! Thank you Mori!!!

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Send 🥇 if you like my portrayal