I’ve been held captive by the little blue envelope for tonight. Find me there, saints and sinners.

『 'Cause we're hot like hell, does it burn when I'm not there? When you're by yourself, am I the answer to your prayers? 』

Good morning, losers and lovers. Cupid's arrow struck me this morning, so I'm feeling extra perky.

I’m in need of a drink or ten— no hunger for whiskey, but pure gin. Maybe even a human finger to float on the surface, like an olive. Any takers?

Seeing those three little dots in messages when you’re in the new stages of infatuation is one of the best feelings.

I brought you into this world, I can take you out.

And the ‘abuse’ in ‘father.’

I need to go stab myself in the eyes.

Come out from the shadows, little prodigies. This werecat wants to play.

You know the drill.

It's been a while, lovers and losers.

Hi baby, Lena Gilbert..

On the prowl for storytellers. You know where to find me, saints and sinners.

You all know what day it is─ skip church and come spend your afternoon with the devil.

It feels like a crimson and sin day.

They renowned for being a let down.

And so, the kitten caught the cream. . .

I need to find a good distraction and I’m going to have to do this the old fashioned way. ( Heart this for something wicked, retweet it for something more creative )

Is it wrong to be this in love with yourself?

My first tweet back, and it’s toward Lena Gilbert.... maid of honour shopping? I’ve got Stefan’s credit card and Damon’s car. Vroom, vroom.