❀

            people who berate us because we roleplay twilight.

Okay here’s the deal, over the past 24 hours I’ve been on this blog. I’ve  noticed that there are people laughing at us because we chose to play these muses, for even being a part of this fandom. Yes, I admit that the books were somewhat flawed,  and some say that the movies sucked — I never watched them actually, but that’s a whole other story.

We are not Stephanie Meier. We are not their portrayals in the movie.

We are trying to bring life and depth to characters that we believe have some potential. We are re-making Meier’s creations into our own, as ilegal as it sounds.

           But it gets hard, because we are a scorned fandom. 

So next time you see a Twilight roleplayer around and you want to laugh and berate them, think about it twice, and put yourself in their shoes.

Send me a url and I’ll answer the following;;

petalsinthevoid:

Opinion on;

Character in general:
How they play them:
The Mun:

Do I:

RP with them:
Want to RP with them:

What is my;

Overall Opinion:

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty

For all my roleplay partners:

Never hold your muse back. For real. If your muse wants to lash out at mine, or kiss mine, or tell mine a horrible secret, or slam mine against a wall — go for it. Don’t ever feel like I’ll get your reply and judge you or your muse. Your character has specific feelings, instincts, and desires, and if they want to do something, don’t hold them back. I want to roleplay with your muse in their entirety, the whole truth of your character, not a watered-down version. Never feel nervous — just let it happen as it happens, and it’ll all be great.

quaexlupus:

         _{”Not to sound rude or anything—but you do realize you’re staring?”}

                 _{’ Sorry—- I thought you were someone else. ’}

rex-stellarum:

             _{{ to put it simply, James T. Kirk was king and not just plain old king, but king of his company, king of New York, and king of everything. and just as any other man would, he let it get to his head and his ego was matched by no other. grinning to himself, the blonde waltzed down the stairs and into the main level of the house party, allowing himself to become immersed in his home - the bodies pressed to close together - the humid air - the smells of booze and drugs. }}

                      _{{ it was then that he caught sight of her, the blonde speaking with one of his co-workers. Jim’s mouth fell open and the girl he had had his hands on was soon disregarded. god…. she was gorgeous, perfect, and downright sexy. the way she laughed and flipped her perfectly waved locks, the tight bikini. if Jim were a better man he may have thought of his wife, but he was too far gone to notice her absence. this woman needed to be his and she was going to be, preferably as soon as possible. Jim was used to getting what he wanted anyways. }}

            _{❝hey —- Jim Kirk.❞}

              _{—-Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, she supposed. However, Rosalie Hale knew she was beautiful and she worked it as best she could. Considering the reactions she received it was obvious how it she was succeeding. Succeeding enough that even the king himself noticed her. She knew him, before he even spoke his name, she knew him. Rose prided herself on knowing big names, of course she was one herself. However, if anyone knew how to play with the big wigs, it was her.}

              _{—-A bat of thick onyx eyelashes and she turned to him, blonde flowing around her perfectly sculpted cheek bones. Rosalie’s smile sparkled, step one, perfectly whitened teeth gleaming behind rosy red lips. A shift in her stance, with her hand resting above her barely clad hips.}

                          _{’ Oh, I know who you are, Mr. Kirk.
                                        Rosalie. Rosalie Hale. ’}

secondbestx:

         “you are, blondie. you’ve been graced with my company.”
          a cocky smirk followed her obvious eye roll.
          “whoever said that? you’re the fun one. my own personal punching bag.”

             _{’ And yet—- Why don’t I feel lucky? ’}

                          _{{ A snort, followed by a graceful glare, or what she though
                    was one }}

                      _{’ I am pretty fun. However, your punching bag? I don’t think
                so. It’s the other way around. ’}