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Writing Is Hard,
Scout,
Speckled Crow,
N7Spectre,
Silent Whispers,
TideTypedWrong
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2 yrs ago
Current
Kinda wanna RP BG3....
3
likes
3 yrs ago
Thirsting over Pedro Pascal.
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7 yrs ago
Finally saw Endgame and don't know what to do anyone.
7 yrs ago
In a mood for some GoT RP. Anyone else?
7 yrs ago
It's been a while hasn't it?
Bio
I'm only human.
Aren't we all?
Eventually we all fall.
Aren't we all?
Eventually we all fall.
Most Recent Posts
Goblet of Fire was ass. Such ass. Ron was awful to not only Hermione but Harry. Ron can fangirl over Krum but when Hermione goes to the ball with him, he acts like an entitled little shit, craps on Hermione's night and makes her cry. Like if Ron couldn't have Hermione no one should. >__> I think in the fifth book they're in the Department of Mysteries and Hermione creates a barrier as they're fighting and she and Harry end up on one side and Ron on the other? I don't remember much about Ginny in the books to be honest. But yeah Ron grew up in a magical home so the wonder to study wasn't there. Plus he was kind of a jerk to Percy and Charlie who I think were kind of bookworms, maybe before the house got hella populated with ginger kids. I do see what you mean though, I think Ron kinda feels superior to Hermione or something or women, I dunno.
You're being generous. I'd say 45 seconds tops, then he's crying and Hermione goes off to give herself some satisfaction. Like I can't imagine them teaching kids at Hogwarts about sex but they gotta right?
You're being generous. I'd say 45 seconds tops, then he's crying and Hermione goes off to give herself some satisfaction. Like I can't imagine them teaching kids at Hogwarts about sex but they gotta right?
XD Harry and Hermione were so perf together. Like fuck. Both grew up in muggle homes, both rather quiet kids. Well Harry gets to be super athletic and shit but he's not overly outgoing. He saves Hermione's life after Ron verbally shits all over her for being friendless even though Ron knows the issues of making friends since he only has Harry fucking Potter. >__> Urgh I love them so much. Hermione should have made the moves on Harry. I'm so mad. -cries endlessly- But yeah at least Harry doesn't abuse Hermione's brain. I still don't see how Hermione and Ron ever had sex, let alone got married...ewww.
Plagued by the afternoon's disappearance of Byron Finch, Mary Morstan was unable to find refuge in sleep come nightfall. Her family she worked for dismissed the boy's vanishing act claiming he would return in the morning, likely running away to spite his parents and Mary's employers, Jacob and Anna Finch. Mary had worked for the Finches for several months and in that time she had gotten rather close to think, almost able to consider them as a second family. Mary's own family was further north and only had the pleasure of seeing Mary twice a year at most. Though the blond haired governess was paid well, she kept her funds close to her chest, knowing she would need to save up as much as possible if she were to have a home of her own someday. Mary was college educated but found no teaching positions so for now she had to settle for teaching the wealthy in their homes while their parents tended to supposedly more important matters.
Normally Byron and Mary would study in the morning and have a few hours before the next session but when she tried to locate him on the grounds, she found him missing. She hadn't seen him since they had concluded their lesson on Wilkie Collins two hours prior. The servants hadn't seen from the ten year old either but the parents dismissed the concerns, claiming Byron could run off to his friend's home. The Finches lived in London but kept their large mansion and grounds surrounded by a daunting black iron gate that kept their small lawn and bed of flowers away from the riffraff roaming the dirty streets. Mary spent the night tossing and turning, feeling utterly useless and partly to blame for the boy's disappearance.
With dawn came a drive to find Byron.
Anna and Jacob still didn't seem overly worried though their thoughts were often focused on their publishing company they ran together. They did give Mary funds to inquire with a private detective if it would quell her worries. They didn't want the public finding about their missing child, as it would certainly cause a scandal and negative press for their company. Though Mary liked to consider them friends, she found their caviler parenting annoying to say the least. Mary dressed in a purple ruffled dress and a coat. As it was rather windy and misting, she grabbed a small hat to tie into her hair. The gloomy Sunday morning was unsettling and gave Mary an uneasy feeling, which she hoped had nothing to do with Byron.
Heading out of the iron gate and down the street, Mary came to a carriage and asked to be taken to one of the local pubs she frequented during her days off. Mary had been raised by an older brother who insisted she take care of herself before she set off for London. Thanks to those lessons, she had been successful so far in warding off some of the drunkards who followed her at night. The pubs overall was friendly enough during the daylight hours and offered her a good tip on who she might be able to call upon for help on a missing child. She was given the address of two blokes who were taking cases for extra coin and Mary had to hope they were competent enough to find Byron sooner, rather than later.
Taking another carriage to 221B Baker Street, Mary noted the cool winter air was cold enough that she could see her breath. It didn't make sense that Byron would run away given the weather. She had to fear the worst, knowing some people did snatch children for money or labor. Once out and in front of the door, Mary removed her right black satin glove and knocked before she stepped back, careful not to toppled back over the steps behind her. There was a bit of a rumbling before the door swung open, revealing a rather unkempt dark haired individual. "Whatever it is you are selling, we are not interested." Holmes said rather quickly, not bothering to even look at the nervous woman as he began to shut the door.
Mary quickly pushed back, preventing Holmes from slamming the door in her face.
"Excuse me, I am not selling anything. I require your...services." Mary's voice trailed off as she noted the man smelled of scotch and tobacco. She was now beginning to wonder if she had the right address, as she couldn't possibly put the life of a child in the man's hands. Holmes stood up, having snapped from his drowsy state and looked Mary over, her ears seeming to perk up at the prospect of next month's rent being paid. And by the look of Mary Morstan, he assumed the next few months could be paid if he took her job up. He motioned her inside the narrow home and shut the door behind her, locking it as well. "My name is Mary Morstan and there is a child missing-"
"Not interested." Holmes blurted out as he swayed back into the sitting room and plopped down on a large green armchair near the roaring fireplace. Mary glanced around, further unimpressed by the mess.
"You're not interested in helping a lost child?" Mary questioned, wringing her hands together.
Holmes new no money could interest him in a dull case. "If you cannot kept track of your children, Miss Morstan, that is really none of my concern." The man gave a shrug. Mary's pale face soon flushed as she gritted her teeth, appealed by the man's assumption but also indifference. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and sat up slightly in his chair, "Perhaps you can bother my comrade, Watson with this matter." He said faintly, waving a hand to the opening. Mary turned and looked to see the other man she had heard about while inquiring at the pub. Mary pursed her lips together and studied the man, finding him much more presentable than the other man without a name.
"I do hope you're more respectable than him." Mary muttered softy, her light hazel eyes moving to the slumped Holmes in the corner of the room. "Hello, my name is Mary Morstan." She extended a hand to the doctor.
Normally Byron and Mary would study in the morning and have a few hours before the next session but when she tried to locate him on the grounds, she found him missing. She hadn't seen him since they had concluded their lesson on Wilkie Collins two hours prior. The servants hadn't seen from the ten year old either but the parents dismissed the concerns, claiming Byron could run off to his friend's home. The Finches lived in London but kept their large mansion and grounds surrounded by a daunting black iron gate that kept their small lawn and bed of flowers away from the riffraff roaming the dirty streets. Mary spent the night tossing and turning, feeling utterly useless and partly to blame for the boy's disappearance.
With dawn came a drive to find Byron.
Anna and Jacob still didn't seem overly worried though their thoughts were often focused on their publishing company they ran together. They did give Mary funds to inquire with a private detective if it would quell her worries. They didn't want the public finding about their missing child, as it would certainly cause a scandal and negative press for their company. Though Mary liked to consider them friends, she found their caviler parenting annoying to say the least. Mary dressed in a purple ruffled dress and a coat. As it was rather windy and misting, she grabbed a small hat to tie into her hair. The gloomy Sunday morning was unsettling and gave Mary an uneasy feeling, which she hoped had nothing to do with Byron.
Heading out of the iron gate and down the street, Mary came to a carriage and asked to be taken to one of the local pubs she frequented during her days off. Mary had been raised by an older brother who insisted she take care of herself before she set off for London. Thanks to those lessons, she had been successful so far in warding off some of the drunkards who followed her at night. The pubs overall was friendly enough during the daylight hours and offered her a good tip on who she might be able to call upon for help on a missing child. She was given the address of two blokes who were taking cases for extra coin and Mary had to hope they were competent enough to find Byron sooner, rather than later.
Taking another carriage to 221B Baker Street, Mary noted the cool winter air was cold enough that she could see her breath. It didn't make sense that Byron would run away given the weather. She had to fear the worst, knowing some people did snatch children for money or labor. Once out and in front of the door, Mary removed her right black satin glove and knocked before she stepped back, careful not to toppled back over the steps behind her. There was a bit of a rumbling before the door swung open, revealing a rather unkempt dark haired individual. "Whatever it is you are selling, we are not interested." Holmes said rather quickly, not bothering to even look at the nervous woman as he began to shut the door.
Mary quickly pushed back, preventing Holmes from slamming the door in her face.
"Excuse me, I am not selling anything. I require your...services." Mary's voice trailed off as she noted the man smelled of scotch and tobacco. She was now beginning to wonder if she had the right address, as she couldn't possibly put the life of a child in the man's hands. Holmes stood up, having snapped from his drowsy state and looked Mary over, her ears seeming to perk up at the prospect of next month's rent being paid. And by the look of Mary Morstan, he assumed the next few months could be paid if he took her job up. He motioned her inside the narrow home and shut the door behind her, locking it as well. "My name is Mary Morstan and there is a child missing-"
"Not interested." Holmes blurted out as he swayed back into the sitting room and plopped down on a large green armchair near the roaring fireplace. Mary glanced around, further unimpressed by the mess.
"You're not interested in helping a lost child?" Mary questioned, wringing her hands together.
Holmes new no money could interest him in a dull case. "If you cannot kept track of your children, Miss Morstan, that is really none of my concern." The man gave a shrug. Mary's pale face soon flushed as she gritted her teeth, appealed by the man's assumption but also indifference. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and sat up slightly in his chair, "Perhaps you can bother my comrade, Watson with this matter." He said faintly, waving a hand to the opening. Mary turned and looked to see the other man she had heard about while inquiring at the pub. Mary pursed her lips together and studied the man, finding him much more presentable than the other man without a name.
"I do hope you're more respectable than him." Mary muttered softy, her light hazel eyes moving to the slumped Holmes in the corner of the room. "Hello, my name is Mary Morstan." She extended a hand to the doctor.
I don't even know man. He went from depressed to suddenly horny and then upset when Hermione wouldn't play ball. I should probably just tell that guy we're not gonna work out. Sometimes it does make me laugh to see bad writers cause I have to imagine they're way better at math and science than me. Maybe...
It was Harry and Hermione and I wanted some, needless to say I don't really want any at the moment lol
Reddit, yo. I have found good writers there but some...some you can tell...-shakes head-
It was creepy and uncalled for given the intro I gave them was a real serious piece. They then controlled my character, got freaky and I backed away silently. >__>
Hey I am writing. XP
Hey I am writing. XP
Ehhh pretty much in my book. Sure you can look at someone and think they're good looking but in the very first post of a story, it comes off really...bad. Not to mention it's usually in the context of the other partner wanting things to get physical right away. I've cut out those weirdos real quick.
Pfft we're awesome. You better get to writing or get to napping lol
Pfft we're awesome. You better get to writing or get to napping lol
I've played males in sexual scenes as well. It's good to find people who don't like limits hold them back in terms of writing. You're right, people can really jump the gun. I still can't get over how I'll say NO insta-romance or insta-smut and yet fuck, one post in and it's like...stop you're being creepy and my character is having none of that and you're ruining the tone. I suppose some people don't have foresight sadly, makes you wonder how they go about real life. >___>
Hey I'm not distracting you, you're distracting yourself. I'm working a Sherlock Holmes intro and soon YYH. I mean my school project...errrr.
Hey I'm not distracting you, you're distracting yourself. I'm working a Sherlock Holmes intro and soon YYH. I mean my school project...errrr.
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