MOVED
Welcome to Graves N’ Guns. If you need a weapon, or someone dead, you’ve come to the right place. If…
Welcome.
“Death is more universal than life everyone dies but not everyone lives.”
— A. SachsWe're death dealers, gun addicts, weapon hoarders and not the most human of humans. My name is Evelyn. Evelyn Røkiadotter or Coulson, to some. Along with my brother, Damon, and son, Erin.. We run and own a weapons store, that doubles as a front for murder and mutants. My crew? Mutants that are highly trained to kick ass, and kill their targets.
[This is a indie multi-muse/character account consisting of 10 muses. We'll rp with any fandom, so come at me.]
MOVED
Welcome to Graves N’ Guns. If you need a weapon, or someone dead, you’ve come to the right place. If…
MOVED
Welcome to Graves N’ Guns. If you need a weapon, or someone dead, you’ve come to the right place. If…
MOVED
Welcome to Graves N’ Guns. If you need a weapon, or someone dead, you’ve come to the right place. If…
posted 9 years ago, with 15 notes | Reblog
Evelyn’s Pregnancy Progress
Week 16 of Pregnancy Here’s an eye opener for you:
While you’re packing on the baby pounds, your baby’s eyesight (and eyelashes!) are developing rapidly.
MOVING
Death is more universal than life everyone dies but not everyone lives. A. Sachs We’re death…
posted 9 years ago, with 48,570 notes | Reblog
It’s one of those times where I stare at my blog, and feel like starting it over and being like lol fuck this.
But, then I realise that this cycle will keep repeating.
And it’ll get worse
and worse
and worse
Till I just have to nerve to leave for good.
cause really, there’s no point in staying. 162 fucking followers, 2 threads and a linger sense of dread of telling my best friend the truth is all I have from this fucking account.
It’s slowly become the bane of my existence, and it’s my fault.
And I wanna get rid of it.
I wanna just not have this stupid dread. I don’t want to log on here and be crushed by my sense of failure because this fucking thing has taken up a whole fucking year and i have nothing to show for it.
Except maybe a fucking story that I’ll never be able to write. And it’s getting to be unfuckingbearable anymore.
So If I up and go, I’m gone. and if I start again, maybe it’ll fucking get somewhere.