#IM ABOUT TO PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE WITH MYSELF | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kidfoundonstreets · 2 years

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aauUUGHHHhhhHhHH last post suepr. long . psot. sorry i was having a time

picking mysekf up the floor like a muppet and throwqign myself onto the keyboard okay

thinking about claire now that they all know about the contract this is going to get so good and dont worry im hyped but its so scary somebodys definitely going to die and just...aghhghhg... all of the cgs.. so cool the wishes they have im glad their backstories were all revealed but now its all added up to this point in a way

HELPGFJS so true lime so true WHAT THE HELL THE WAY SHE HID THE WORD NEGATIVE TJHATS SO UNFAIR WHTA THEHFGK I GUESS YOU COULD TWIST IT AROUND AND SAY WELL ITS A DEMON CONTRACT BETTER EXPECT IT TO BE NEGATIVE BUT THATS STILL SO CRUEL TO PULL ASHE SPENT SO SO LONG JUST TRYING TO FIND SOME WAY SOMEHOW TO REVIVE HIS FAMILY BECAUSE OF HIS INSISTENT DENIAL THAT ITS NOT OVER AND THATS JUST WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN MAYBE THEN HE’D REALLY BE INSANE/BROKEN i jusghtjgjhg man. this fucking game lime you are so dead the moment rouge finds out. rules are there for a reason but i feel like itll be too late by then lime is too emotional about what she does her impulsivity is really her downfall i guess

girl./...........youre the worst...................... (affectionate. kinda)

NOEL NOEL NOEL NOEL MY EVERYTHING NOEL </3 NOEL

THIS IS THE WORST SITUATION TO BE IN SOMEONES GONNA SHOOT HER OR STAB HER SIRIUS IS SO IMPULSIVE NOEL DOESNT WANT TO HURT ANYBODY ASHE IS BEYOND DESPERATE ITS JUST SO BAD FOR CLAIRE AND IT ISNT EVEN HER FAULT

ISIRUS YOU ANGEL NONONONONONONOONONO WHY DOES HE ALWAYS HAVE TO GET THE SHORT END OF THE STICK

still somehow iconic......... THIS IS SO INTENSE UGHGFKSJHGEKWJHRTIEQ I LOVE IT BUT IM SO SRESSTED OUT they were all affected by the dreams and god just reminding someone of their past does that i guess its all so,,

sirius sirius i love you i love you so much but theyre looking at you so distastefully sirius are you buying them time are you trying to get them to understand maybe your words will reach them but it might get you killed please please dont die he died I HATE THIS I HATE THIS

WILARDO??????????????????? THE REGRET GOT TO HIM WILARDO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SIRIUS WAS TRYING HIS BEST BUT HE WAS SHUT UP JUST LIKE THAT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i took all of the rest of the screenshots without commenting so i could play without pausing so!111 if some is a bit vague thats why

HSJHGHGHGHKJHGH I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS SO MUCHGHHG ASHE JUST EFFORTLESSLY STABBED HIM LIKE THAT AND IS TRYING TO LOOK AT HIOW ITS GOING TO BE GRAHNTED NOW AND EVERYTHING WILL BE BACK AGAIN IM USRE THATS ALL HE RUNS ON WHEN E DOES THIS HE JUST TELLS HIMSELF THAT THIS IS THE ONLY WAY FOR IT TO HAPPEN AND OFC HE CANT ACCPET IT SO EASILY HE NEVER HAS IN THE PAST YEARS

a WIALROD WILARDO MAKES ME SO SAD IM SORRY EVEN AFTER SO MUCH TIME OF BEING HGJHKJFFHRWKJHRE3H32ROUI32YRH432UR2KRUJ23HR hE JU7ST DEICDED ANWYAY TO STOP HIM FROM KILLING CXLAIRE EVEN IF HE WANTED THE SAME THING HE PUT ASIDE HIS OWN WISH FOR THIS SO HE COULD STOP HIM AND ITS SO AAAAGHGHH I CANT PUT IT INTO WORDS BUT THIS IS SUCH A GOOD SCENE SOMEONE HE HASNT KNOWN FOR EVEN A WEEK. HE STOPPED ASHE FROM DOING THAT WILARDO DESERVED. BETTER

ashe feeling some feelings he doesnt wanna feel i have to admit this guy can run really really fast i really wish we found out what happened to them after this,, DUDE WHAT THE HELL HE APPLIED IT TO CLAIRES SCALP SO SECRELTY TOO HE COULD BE AN ASSASSIN IF HE WNATED

HELPFHF THEY CALLED IT OUT RIGHT THERE ITS NEVER A GOOD THING WHEN THAT HAPPENS noel right away caring about claire >> i cry about them everyday did you kn ow BUT SERIOUSLY WHY ARE THEY MESSING AORUND EVEN MORE THINKING ABOUT IT THEY TAMPERED WIAH ALL OF IT bro when will they catch a break...they need to face one thing after another and now htey need to face a weird puzzle with fire and everything and im so scared about the poison claire is dealing with how long will it take to kill her

AAAAGGGGGGGGGHGHJHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I WILL NEVER. EVER. SHU TUP. AHBO UT THEM .

CLAIRE FEELING LIKE SHIT EVEN STILL SAW NOEL STRUGGLING AND PANICKING FROM THE GUITL AND EVEN THOUGH SHE FELT SICK SHE EVEN STILL JUST HELPED HIM AND JSUYT THE WLAMI GNG SPRITE THE. THE WLAKJIGN SPRTITE THE AAAAAAAAAAAUGHHGHJHHHHH AND EVENT EHN TEHY CARE FOER EACH OTHER BECAUS E NOEL NOTICES HOW TIRED SHE IS AND THEN HE JUSTJNGGNFJGKFKDJGHFDKJGWRETWE34T32W452324523523

HE FINDS. HISME LF. IN CLAI RE. HE ADMITREWD HIMSELF THAT HE MAY NOT BE RLEIAB RLE. AN DYE T . THA TMAY JUST BE HIS WORDS OR WHATEVR BUT JUST HTE WAY THAT CLAIRE GIVES HIM SO MUCH CORUAGE SHE GIVES HIM SO MUCH MENAING AND SHE MAKES HIM GO TO LENGTHS THAT HE NEVER WOUL FOR ANYBODY ELSE HE RELALY WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR CLAIRE AND IT MAY BE UNREQUITED LOVE ON CLAIRES SIDE BUT I GNEUINELY JSUT EITHER WAY WHATEVER WAY THEYRE HONESTLY JUST SO>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>AGGHHHH I CANT WORD BUT I WAS EXPLODING DYING DISSOLVING DURING ALL OF HTIS SO MUCH

THE TIME LOOP WAS FOUND OUT AND STILL NOEL CANT KILL CLAIRE EVEN WHEN THE KNIFE IS AT HIS FEET AND ITS THE BEST TIME HE STILL CANT FIND IT IN HIMSELF TO EVEN PICK UP THE KNIFE AND INSTEAD JUST BEGS CLAIRE NOT TO DIE GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I CNAT TAKE THIS

SHE PICKED UP THE KNIFE AND JUST,GFDGJFKGHE STABBED HERSELF SHE HASNT WANTED TO DIE THIS ENTIRE TIME BUT SHE JUST DIES BY HER OWN HAND HERE SO THAT GHJHGFUSDKHFOEUIRH32IH32U43214324J32432 IM SORRY IM KEYSMASHING SO MUCH BUT

a this is to be honest one of my favorite claire moments i mean i didnt completely understand what was going on and i still dont but it was jusst so,, after it all i felt something i wasnt sure what but i def felt something and wanted to cry AND SHE LOOKS SO GOOD HERE. HER DEVELOPMENT >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> WAHGHGH

the scrtahced out i just died. i love the credits

this place is so weird but comforting its funny to think about how claire can still react to things while in here the entire bonus thing. the music was so good. walked into the place to see zizel

she finds claire way too entertaining which i guess is better than hatred,,,,,,, and apparently theyre playing russian roulette now on what memories she’ll remember from this bonus after everything AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

this is the scariest thing ive ever done in my life maam please istg if theres any actual bullets

to be fair claire was dizzy from poison, suffering stab wounds, just went through fire and tons of pressure and trauma backstories, and had just had the knife in front of her

#kid's heart

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riverr3dwinter · 2 years

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Hi, I wanted to start off and say a little about myself and my page.

As said in my bio, my name is River and I'm currently 17. I'm nonbinary, bisexual, and use she/they pronouns.

I would describe myself as a game of Russian roulette. I'm either very calm and quiet, or very chaotic and impulsive, and there's not rly much of a way to tell which I'll be at any given time. But, it makes life just that little bit spicier :D I'm also very empathetic and love to help people whenever I can.

My interests and passions include music, playing in my band, skateboarding, art, reading, writing, tattooing, walking, psychology, criminology, being a cadet, and of course, helping others <3

Things I struggle with are, anxiety, depression, CPTSD, eating disorders, ADHD, dyslexia, (currently being assessed for autism and BPD), as well as many chronic physical illnesses cus I'm unlucky and seem to be collecting these things xD

Now, this page, as stated in my bio, is a blog to vent and track progress of my ed. I'm going to talk a little more about that now, so for anyone who is triggered by talk of eating disorders or self harm or anything like that, here is your trigger warning, and I do not advise you read on.

⚠️TW for the following content⚠️

So, my life of eating disorders and mental health struggles started from a young age. I'm not going into as much detail in this post but I might make another one with more detail.

It started pretty much from around the age of 5 where I was extremely skinny. I was badly bullied for being so small. No matter how much I ate, I could never gain because my metabolism was too fast. I later found out it was overactive, which was contributing to some of the illnesses I was having. As I got older, I was still made fun of for being so small and weak. My eating habits and relationship with food was a mess. I felt I had no sence of control and would contanty switch between over-eating and under-eating. As I got a little older, I noticed things started to change a little. The way I saw myself would constantly change and it scared me and I didn't know if my body was changing, or my perception of myself was changing. Around the age of 13 though, that overactive thyroid (causing the fast metabolism) flipped during a condition called a thyroid storm. I was extremely ill for a long time. And the worst part of it to me was that it had caused my body to do a 180. My thyroid was (and still is) underactive and it slowed my metabolism down a fuck tonne. I gained a lot of weight, very fast and struggled to lose it again. I was then bullied for being the fat kid. And so I ended up on a rollercoaster of over/under-eating and gaining and losing weight. Around the age after I'd got out of juvie (that's another story for another day) 15/16 I'd been starving myself for so long, I'd gotten to a new lw and got seriously ill and ended up being put into a psych ward. (I'd even in one a few times before but not entirely ed related). I could bearly move because I was so weak and ill and I ended up being force fed for ages. Because of that, I started bingeing once I was let out. Which made me gain weight and turned into a binge purge cycle. I ended up gaining weight because of my condition. Then about a year ago, something clicked in my head. I refused to let myself go through this hell of ups and downs and constant switches in what I was doing. It was sorta like my honeymoon phase had finally kicked in. I became stricter with the foods I'd allow myself to eat, how many calories I consumed and the exercise I did to then lose those. Since then, its still not been easy and definitely not smooth sailing. But while I've had a few ups and down, I've gotten to a new low weight and im closer now than I have been in years to my ugw of 63lbs.

My main course of action at the moment is to fast as much as possible and if/when I do eat, keep it a low cals as possible, preferably not sugar or carbs. As well as that, doing an average of 10,000 to 15,000 steps a day. I also have to remember to drink a lot of water and if I drink anything other than that, it's only allowed to be black coffee, no sugar, or 0cal energy drinks for the energy boost.

I also follow Chloe Ting's workout routines when I can to try and keep my body tonned instead of just having fat.

Anyways, I think I'll wrap this up here. If you've read all the way to here, thank you so much. I hope you'll be interested in the rest of my page.

Things I'll be posting in the future will include things like the struggles of having an eating disorder, routines and tip etc for managing life with an ed, ways to lose weight, diet/exercises plans, occupational vents about my life n stuff, and I'll always be willing to give advise to anyone who needs it so if you need anything at all, just give me a shout. Thank you, and I hope you're all having a good day <3

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words-by-elliott · 11 months

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thought about buying a gun today

had a conversation with a trans friend of mine who's thinking about joining the military to escape poverty. not gonna go into detail there but it was heavy conversation and sparked these thoughts.

on the one hand, i'm queer and leftist. i'm scared when i see right wing people hoarding guns. i'd like to have one or more for the peace of mind that if push comes to shove i have something to defend myself with.

however, i know that if i do acquire a firearm, im going to put it in my mouth to see how that feels. not with any bullets or anything. just to feel it, taste it, experience that feeling.

but i know enough about mental health to know what that is. that's a big step in suicidal ideation. what's to stop me from putting a round in the chamber once i get more comfortable? and even if i'm not actively planning how i would kill myself, if i owned a gun, i would know i could. i would know deep down that if i ever wanted too id have a really easy way to do that. and is that even really different from having a plan? i also don't like that i don't know if i would play russian roulette if i purchased a revolver. i'd like to think the answer is no, but if i'm honest with myself, 17% is like, not terrible odds?

i'll be 23 soon. and i've noticed over the past few years my suicidal ideation has progressively grown. when i was in highschool, or maybe even middleschool, i realized nothing really cosmically mattered. i think soon after the idea of dying was scary but it wasn't impossible, and i thought hey it would suck but i'd be dead so it wouldn't really matter to me at that point. i wouldn't ever kill myself, but if i got hit by a bus it wouldn't be a huge deal.

and that's how it stayed really. and i still feel that way, although now that i'm actively transitioning and finding myself, i'm a lot more hesitant when i think rationally about these things. i don't want to die and have my obituary and headstone say [deadname], and what's more, things have just started getting good and i am excited to see where life takes me. despite that though, a few weeks ago i looked at my window differently. i live 5 stories up. would that be high enough? i didn't google for an answer. and i frankly still don't want to know.

objectively, i am the happiest i've ever been. ironically though, i'm also the closest i've ever been to suicide. i've been throwing that thought around my brain for a few months now. it's weird.

#tw suicide #tw sui ideation #tw suicidal thoughts #tw depression #tw guns #tw poverty #lgbtq #vent #suicide #suicidal ideation #dark thoughts #death #it would also be really hot if someone just fucking railed me with a gun to my head #made me gag on the barrel #blew my nuts off #just trans things

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noteguk · 3 years

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Hey nala! I loved bad attitude, I can’t wait to see more of the oc teasing jk 😭

Thank you!! I really like exploring the dark side of the force that overtakes the oc every once in a blue moon. So I hope you guys like this one! (The timeline is after bad reputation, but before bad attitude)

[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. You can read it as a stand-alone.

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, sexting, badboy!Jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, dirty talk, taking and sending pics (not nudes), jk’s skirt thirst, a glimpse into the chaos that lives inside the oc

— words; 1,2k

Years of high school (and now college) excellence did wonders to disguise your impulsive side. It was a common misconception to believe that, just because you were disciplined enough to keep your grades high and your responsibilities in check, you didn’t act on dumb, random thoughts that popped up inside your head. You kind of wished it was true (it would’ve saved you a lot of drama in your personal life) but you also had to admit that you had your fun indulging in your more chaotic needs as well.

Jungkook’s answer came quickly, but not as quickly as you had first expected. Which meant that he was either busy or distracted — past tense — and that it would be slightly more fun than you thought.

With a smirk growing on your lips, you turned around on the bed, reaching for your phone. His answer was simple, only one word, but it was more than enough for you to realize that your machiavellian plan would be fruitful.

jk tutoring 🚫: dont.

If years of perfecting self-restraint didn’t stop you, his half-assed warning wouldn’t. With your phone in hands, you propped yourself up on your elbows as you typed a response.

You: Why not? 😔

As you nervously waited for his text, the picture you had previously sent him was staring you right in the face. It wasn’t anything outrageous, just a simple mirror selfie of you sitting on the edge of your bed, legs crossed and head slightly tilted to the side. It was something so innocent, so gentle and casual, that you could almost pretend that you didn’t know exactly what you were doing when you picked that skirt.

It wasn’t any revolutionary discovery to claim that Jungkook had a thing for your skirts — he had mentioned about a million times already and, even if he hadn’t, it was extremely obvious from the way he explored your body with a lot more eagerness when you wore one. What was a revolutionary discovery, however, was the piece of clothing you found hiding in the corner of your closet, something you had long discarded because Yongsun had managed to shrink it the first time she washed it.

It was practically impossible to wear it outside, but, well, it was the perfect tool to provoke Jungkook with. Because if karma didn’t take care of him, you would.

Finally, his messages popped up on your screen:

jk tutoring 🚫: in a lab rn dont wanna get hard thx

jk tutoring 🚫: but it looks rlly fucjing hot

jk tutoring 🚫: wanna see you riding me in it bby

jk tutoring 🚫: in front of that mirror ;)

You bit your lip, bubbles of expectation starting to pop in your stomach. Sexting Jungkook was the free trial of being a chess genius — you were always ten steps ahead, predicting his following words with almost perfect accuracy. Was it mean, perhaps a little twisted of you to be doing that while he was (miraculously) in class? Maybe. But you had a lot of things in your mind and mercy wasn’t one of them. Especially after the months of torture he had put you through.

You: whatever you want 🥰

You: I’m surprised you even go to class tho, that’s news

jk tutoring 🚫: u took the day off to pester me?

You: maybe I did

You: maybe I’m also home alone for the rest of it

jk tutoring 🚫: dont fucking say that

In true supervillain fashion, you had to laugh at his apparent desperation — a high-pitched, victorious laugh that seemed to come straight from your soul. Jungkook very rarely found himself in that position and you absolutely lived for it. It was one thing to provoke him in person, when he was much stronger than you and could shut you up in no time, but, through the screen, only equal rights. And equal methods of torture.

You: why? You don’t wanna come over?

jk tutoring 🚫: u kno I do

jk tutoring 🚫: ill ttyl

You: not later!! Now 🥺

jk tutoring 🚫: baby this isn’t the best moment

jk tutoring 🚫: Im already hard n im almost done here ok

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, giving the angel and the demon on your shoulders time to present their case. The collected, rational part of you told you to leave it at that: he would come over later, you had managed to provoke him enough to piss him off and get the reaction you wanted. You won. But the impulsive, evil side of you told you that you didn’t win hard enough.

Before you could think too much about it, you took another picture, feeling blessed enough to get a good shot on your first try. Your thumbs flew over the keys, typing fast to get the message sent before Jungkook decided to put his phone away.

You: but these are the panties that you like 😔

Like clockwork, there was a long moment of tension between your message being viewed and those little dots appearing at the corner of your screen. Once again: you knew exactly what you were doing. And you knew that a picture taken underneath your skirt, presenting him with a full view of your red laced panties, would be the cherry on top.

jk tutoring 🚫: I fucjing hate u

You: don’t think you do

jk tutoring 🚫: im saving these

jk tutoring 🚫: gonna fuck u so hard bby

jk tutoring 🚫: not even gonna take those off

jk tutoring 🚫: just gonna push them aside n see u coming all over my cock

Playing like that with Jungkook was like russian roulette — only, it was only you, and all chambers were filled. You knew it would backfire, you knew that the second he walked in your room all your control would go flying out the window, and yet you pushed on. Impulsiveness was a drug for someone that rarely indulged in it, and you were too high to care about the consequences when they seemed so far away. Or, even worse, when you kind of liked them.

That was what pushed you to write your following messages:

You: come over now? Please?

jk tutoring 🚫: wait like 10 min we’re wrapping up

You: now 🥺

You: I’m so wet kook

You: my panties are soaked

You: don’t you wanna come and take them off?

You: Or maybe I can take care of myself today and I can see you another day 😔

jk tutoring 🚫: dont fucking dare

You: I bet I could come super quick too I’m so turned on

You: I want to feel you inside me

You: I’m so tight too I can barely put my fingers in

You: please? Come over?

Checkmate. The forces of chaos inside you were rejoicing, every cell of your body anticipating the impact of your words. You, however, already knew you had won even before he answered you.

jk tutoring 🚫: im coming over rn

check out the rest of the bad influence collection!

tag list > @minyoongiboongi @bvrrym0re @marcoazam2 @shojotae @youurkryptonite @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @we8joon @gamerkooks @study-clouds @myanswer-is-you @pb-n-juju @disaster-rose @spicybangtanwings @fairymagdalene @seagulljk @she-is-dreaming @jjktthpmj1 @pinkysunsett @1aekooks @jkficsiliketoread @ellesalazar @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle @erraaxh @lovelyloverlia @dayjeons @illwritetomorrow @dreamsindreamss @limee7 @pixiejjk @dancing-queenf @storms-and-stars-blog @un-love @knjoobs @yopjm @pixiejjk

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts x you #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #x you #x reader #smut #bad boy jungkook #college au #secret dating #enemies to lovers

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massivetyrantduck · 3 years

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We're back! Incorrect quotes part 3 let's go

Warriors, texting in the group chat: I wonder what Apple shots would look like?

Steam(im experimenting with names for him): *Sends a picture of of a syringe with an apple slice shoddily edited inside*

Legend: *Sends a picture of a shot glass with an Apple poorly drawn inside*

Hyrule: *Sends picture of person dunking a Basketball into the hoop but replaced the basketball with a poorly resized apple*

Warriors: I hate all of you.

Steam: It’s nice to be wanted, you know?

Legend: Not by the law!

First: I’ve invited you here because I crave the deadliest game...

Wind , nodding: Knife Monopoly.

First: I was actually going to play Russian roulette, but now I'm really interested in whatever knife Monopoly is.

Twilight: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

Legend: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory.

Sky: Fuck you.

First, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK??

First, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

Time: Wake me up-

Steam: Before you go go

Wild: When September ends

Warriors: WAKE ME UP INSIDE

Time: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Wild: Bet you I can!

Steam: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

Time: Guys where did Wild go?

Twilight: They got arrested.

Time: How the hell-

Wild: *bursts in through the window* The cops are after me, I thought it would be fun to steal crackers and throw them at people.

Wind : I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here.

Hyrule: Sky is 70% of your impulse control and you know this Wind .

Sky: I feel like Wind is the more responsible one of us two though.

Wind : We are both 70% of each others' impulse control.

Sky: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

Wind : Oh, my God. Do you know what this is?

Time: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

Legend: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

Twilight: So... what’s goin’ on?

Steam: You want the long version or the short version?

Twilight, hesitantly: The short one, I guess?

Steam: Shit’s fucked.

Twilight: Oh. Well, yeah, that’s definitely not an optimal situation.

Hyrule: I am very small and I have no money, so you can imagine the kind of stress that I'm under.

Time: Hey, Joe said he's coming over this afternoon.

Hyrule: Cool.

Time: Do you know who Joe is?

Hyrule: JOE MAMA!

Wind , not even looking up from their phone: Damn, that backfired.

Time: I have an idea.

First: A good idea?

Time: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Legend: We’re about to do the tazer challenge. You want in?

Twilight: What's the tazer challenge?

Steam: We taze eachother, then drink. (no Steam my hc is that ur 17 and my hc is drinking age in hyrule is 18 dont underage drink)

Twilight: How do you win?

Legend: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?

Warriors: Do you have a bobby pin?

First: Yeah. *searches in their hair*

First: Oh, no, wait. I’m not a nine-year-old girl.

First: Some of us are still ‘it’ from a childhood game of tag.

Steam: way to just fuck me up on a Tuesday.

Time: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone.

Hyrule: Mine just says "Hyrule no."

Time: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

Twilight, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Legend: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

Hyrule: My assistance will be an act of beneviolence.

Legend: ...Don’t you mean benevolence?

Hyrule: No.

Legend: *proud mentor noises*

Legend: I'll offer you some friendly advice-

Wind : I don't want your advice.

Legend: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

Hyrule: You know, studies show that keeping a ladder in the house is more dangerous than a loaded gun.

Hyrule: That's why I own TEN guns.

Hyrule: Just in case some maniac tries to sneak in with a ladder.

Time: Stressed.

Four: Depressed.

Twilight: Possessed.

First: Obsessed.

Wind : Impressed.

Warriors: Chicken breast.

Everyone: ...What?

Warriors: I just wanted to join in.

Hyrule: Good morning.

Wind : Good morning.

Wild: Good morning.

Warriors: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Four: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

Warriors: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

Four(Blue and Vio): BWWAAAAAAAAAA! Oh, you hear that? That's the wrong opinion alarm.

Time: That is not something you actually have installed.

Four: Sorry, say again? I couldn't hear you over my alarm that YOU SET OFF with your WRONG-ASS OPINION.

Time: If I run and leap at First, they will most certainly catch me in their arms.

Time, running towards First: Coming in!

First: No! I’m holding coffee!

First: *Drops coffee and catches Time*

Time: You know you can die from that, right?

Sky: *smoking a cigarette* That’s the point.

Wind : *drinking alcohol* We’re trying to speed this up.

Legend: *Eating raw cookie dough and nodding*

#linked universe #lu four #lu wild #lu time #lu legend #lu wind #lu sky #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu first #lu spirit #lu incorrect quotes #incorrect lu quotes

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 3 years

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We Were Something, Don’t You Think So? [Chapter 2: The Middle Of Nowhere]

You are a Russian Grand Duchess in a time of revolution. Ben Hardy is a British government official tasked with smuggling you across Europe. You hate each other.

This is a work of fiction loosely inspired by the events of the Russian Revolution (1917-1923) and the downfall of the Romanov family. Many creative liberties were taken. No offense is meant to any actual people. Thank you for reading! :)

Song inspiration: “the 1” by Taylor Swift.

Chapter warnings: Lots of shouting, if you never learned about the Russian Revolution then here's your mini crash course, references to historical stuff like violence and disease, Kroshka the mule emerges as the only emotionally stable character.

Word count: 4.1k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

Taglist: @imtheinvisiblequeen @okilover02 @adrenaline-roulette @youngpastafanmug @m-1234 @tensecondvacation @deacyblues @haileymorelikestupid @rogerfuckintaylor @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @mo-whore

I wake up feeling harder, as if sleeping on the ground with all its stones and cool indifference has taught my spine to straighten, to endure. This is a welcome revelation. I will need to be resilient, for my family and for myself. I also wake determined to set things right with my rescuer. I am a perfectly charming person, Mother and Papa have always said so; I’m not painfully shy like Olga, or aloof like Tati, or rather dull like Maria, and I certainly don’t run around putting frogs in people’s shoes like Anastasia. I make for excellent company. Surely Ben will realize this and we will become inseparable travel companions.

Outside in the overcast brisk morning air, Ben is already busy tacking the mule. He glances over and tosses me an apple. It bounces out of my floundering hands and rolls off into the woods. This is not an auspicious start to the day.

“You’ll still have to eat that,” Ben says. “There’s no extra food. I was only able to ask for as much as I could justify needing myself.”

“Right.” I go fetch the apple—rummaging around in leaves and sticks and shrubs—and take a bite, even though it’s bruised and definitely tastes like dirt. I beam at Ben triumphantly. I am tough! I am daring! I am enchanting! I can pull my own weight on this journey!

Ben doesn’t seem to notice. He pats the mule’s thick brown neck and smiles fondly at her. “How are we feeling this morning, Kroshka? Hmm? Who’s a lovely mule? Who’s going to take us all the way to the Trans-Siberian Railroad without even one measly word of complaint? That’s right, you are! Yes you are!” He lands a smacking kiss on the velvety grey fur of her muzzle.

I attempt polite conversation; more than that, I endeavor to learn about my dashing yet evasive rescuer. “So, tell me Ben, have you worked for Sir Buchanan long?”

“Four years,” Ben replies curtly.

“And you are…” I think of his notebook. “A…writer of some sort for him…?”

“I’m his press attaché.”

“Ah.” I recognize the French word for ‘attach,’ but not its meaning in the context of employment with an ambassador. “I can’t say I know what that entails.”

“I handle Sir Buchanan’s relations with the Russian newspapers. Drafting statements and briefing him on local opinions and the like. And since his health has declined, I find myself delivering some of his particularly confidential correspondence.”

“Oh, I see. And he could spare you for this mission? It seems like a burden that would be better carried by a man with military or exploratory experience.”

“My Russian is passable. And I can tolerate rougher conditions than most.” He points to a pile of clothes he’s laid out on a tree stump. “Those are for you. There’s a stream out that way.” He flicks a thumb towards the east. “Get ready however you need to, but be prepared to leave in fifteen minutes.”

I examine the clothing: plain and practical undergarments, a heavy wool sweater, stockings, boots, and something unexpected. I hold them up with clammy hands. “These are…” I swallow noisily. “Trousers.”

“Yes. They’re travel attire. Comfortable and easy to maneuver in if we need to move quickly.”

“I’ve never worn trousers before.”

“I thought you were amenable to a…a…what did you call it? An adventure. A grand adventure.” He says this melodramatically, like there’s some humor in it. Like he’s mocking me.

“I suppose I am,” I mutter, still scrutinizing the trousers.

“Fifteen minutes,” Ben reminds me sternly. Then he begins to disassemble the tent.

I trudge off through the woods until I find the stream. I clean myself with ice-cold water, drink it down until my teeth ache, change out of my nightgown and into these strange new clothes—Trousers! Mother would lock me in church for a month!—and gaze up into the cloudy, pastel blue sky that peeks between the fingers of the trees. It is very still here, and cold, and deathly quiet. I try to remember the last time I was truly alone, without Mother or Papa or my siblings or servants or guards within shouting distance. There is none that I can remember; perhaps there is none at all. Out here in the Siberian wilderness I feel unmoored from civilization, diminutive, vulnerable, peculiarly inconsequential. I decide I don’t like being alone. By the time I return to our campsite, Ben is ready and waiting beside the loaded cart. His right hand is resting on a clunky metal monster with ‘Olivetti’ written on it.

“I’m a press attaché,” he says with a mischievous grin. “And you’re a typist.”

“A what?”

“You work for Sir Buchanan’s office as a typist. That’s our story, anyway. You came along to assist me during my audience with the former tsar, and now we’re traveling back to Sir Buchanan’s headquarters in Saint Petersburg. So if anyone happens to ask, that’s what you are to tell them. Oh, and you’re British. Your English sounds clean enough.”

“Alright,” I reply, still gaping at the metal monster like a black box with gnashing fangs. “But what is that?”

Ben’s jaw falls open. “You don’t…?” Then he rubs his forehead, sighing deeply. “Jesus Christ. You’ve never used a typewriter. Of course you haven’t. Great. Fantastic.”

“We always write by hand. My penmanship is flawless, Mother saw to that.” She’s still battling with Anastasia, but that’s a war that may go on as long as the one between the sun and the moon.

“Okay. Okay. This works out, actually. Because I’m not going to entertain you all day. So here is your assignment.” Ben slaps the back of what he tells me is a typewriter, and then waves for me to come closer. He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a British passport. Every line is filled out except for the name. He slides the paper into the machine and makes some bewildering adjustments. “So, you insert the paper, set the carriage—that’s this roller-type piece here—and type.” He taps forcefully on the keys until two words appear in the blank reserved for the passport holder’s name: Lana Brinkley.

“That’s me?” I ask doubtfully.

Ben smirks, amused. “That’s you.”

“So you could have given me a better name if you wanted to!”

“But then how would you learn humility?” He removes the fraudulent passport, shakes the paper until it dries, folds it into a neat little square, and slips it back into his coat pocket. “If you’re typing a longer message, the typewriter will ding when you’ve reached the end of each line. Then you use the lever to move the paper down, reset the carriage, and resume typing.”

I nod, but without much confidence. This seems complicated.

“You said you wanted a carriage,” Ben teases.

“Yes, one with magnificent draft horses and velvet seats and preferably no less than two servants. Not…whatever that is.”

“Well, if you’re going to pass for a typist, I’m afraid you must learn to type.” He finds me a stack of blank paper in his collection of bags and trunks, and then climbs into the front of the cart as I get into the back. The trousers, I hate to admit to myself, do make it easier to move around, although I’m not sure I approve of how much they accentuate the shape of my body. The thought of Ben looking at me in them gives me a plunging sort of feeling that is half-mortification and half-thrill…not that he has exhibited any interest at all. “Before we go any farther, do you have anything with you that I don’t know about?”

He means things like the heirlooms I have squirreled away in the large steamer trunk: the jewels sewn into my dress, the photograph. I can sense that he wouldn’t want me to have them, although I’m not sure why. In any case, I have no intention of giving them up. The jewels are the only thing of value that I have to trade if we find ourselves in a desperate situation. The photograph is the only string left that connects me back to my family, my home. “No,” I reply primly.

“Good.” He whistles at the mule and she tugs us through the trees and out onto the dirt road that leads, eventually, to the train station. As we ride joltingly along, the creaky cart wheels bumping over every rock and mound and muddy trough, I practice my typing: very slowly at first, and with only my index fingers. I read aloud as I go, gradually picking up speed.

“There once was a German princess born in the Duchy of Hesse. She was very beautiful but very shy. She had a wonderful talent for playing piano, but would run and hide if anyone asked her to perform in public. One day, when she was attending the wedding of her sister, the princess met a prince from a distant kingdom. They were only children, but they instantly knew they had found true love. They snuck off together and carved their names into a window pane. Over the years, each conspired to marry the other. They refused many suitors and wrote each other hundreds of letters. His family did not approve of the princess’s religion and lack of charisma; her family did not approve of the prince’s distant and troubled nation. But at last it became apparent to all that no earthly forces could keep the couple apart. Ten years after their first meeting, the prince and princess were finally married. And they lived joyously and peacefully in each other’s service for the rest of their days.”

Ben lights one of his hand-rolled cigarettes. The smoke doesn’t bother me; on the contrary, it reminds me of Papa smoking his pipe in his study, in the garden, as he read to us by the fireplace, as he danced with Mother in ballrooms back when she could still dance. It reminds me of home. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever give Shakespeare a run for his money, but I’ll admit I’m marginally entertained.”

I smile to myself, sentimental warmth rising in my face. “It’s Papa and Mother’s story.”

“Huh. I didn’t know your people were allowed to marry for love.”

By ‘your people,’ he seems to mean royalty, and there is some derision in his deep voice. “Well, surely duty must come first. But when love can accompany it, that’s a happy coincidence.”

“And what if duty compels you to marry a man who is, say, cruel? Or dreadfully boring? Or in love with another woman? Or who closely resembles a mole-rat?”

I resume my typing with a new exercise. For each letter of the alphabet, I type a French word that begins with it. “I don’t think that sort of thing happens very often.”

“But if it did.”

I shrug, not especially enjoying this topic of discussion. “Then duty comes first, as I said. But I believe most royal couples are perfectly content. At least nine out of every ten.”

“That many!” Ben marvels sarcastically. “Have you ever considered that your own personal experience, as pleasant as it may be, could be coloring your perception of how the world works?”

I ignore him and continue my typing. Attaché for A, bisou for B, croissant for C, doux for D…

After a moment, Ben says: “You aren’t going to regale me with another fairytale? I’m devastated.”

“I’m busy practicing my French now. Please don’t intrude.”

“You speak French as well as Russian and English?” He sounds impressed; for a split second anyway, just long enough for me to catch it like a firefly in my fist.

“And Italian, and Latin. And I’ve just started on Japanese.”

“But no German? That seems like it would be an easier beast to slay.”

“I’ve always purposefully avoided learning it, even though Mother’s family is German. I never envisioned myself marrying a German. I figured Maria could take that bullet. She doesn’t care, she’d marry anyone who could give her a castle and ten babies and a bulldog or two. I would say she was a milkmaid in a past life, but Mother’s heart would stop dead if she thought I subscribed to reincarnation.”

“Not fond of Germans?” Ben asks. “Well, who can blame you. Half the world isn’t fond of them at the moment.”

“I suppose they weren’t so awful before the Great War. But they’re rather boorish, aren’t they? They always sound like they’re angry. Like someone just stole their horse and they’re screaming at them from the front porch to come back or else.” I smile dreamily as I type. “I’ve always fancied the thought of marrying a prince from a glamorous, romantic kingdom. Maybe Italy or Greece. There has even been talk of me marrying Uncle George’s eldest son David. He’s rather beguiling. Tall and slim. Clear blue eyes like a lake. And he’s going to be the king of the British Empire one day, you know. We could holiday together in beautiful, sunny colonies like the Bahamas.”

“You’re still as important as all that? Important enough to make a marriage of that political significance, I mean.” Ben glances back at me and lifts one thick, dark, inquisitive eyebrow. “Seeing as your family doesn’t have a kingdom anymore.”

This is an insensitive thing for him to say. I frown down at the typewriter. “A wife almost always assumes the kingdom of her husband, so why should she require her own? She needs only sound breeding and a suitable temperament. And besides, we might yet return one day.”

Ben twists all the way around to stare at me, the reigns falling out of his hands. Fortunately, the mule seems to know her own way around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It has been a brutal few years. The Great War, the supply shortages, the bad harvests…the people are frustrated, and understandably so. They lashed out blindly, at those who didn’t deserve it, at us. But the dust will clear. And when it does, I think the Russian people will come to their senses and realize that they want us back. That they need us.”

“Are you insane?” Ben snaps. “Are you utterly brainless? What’s floating around in that skull besides fiction and languages you’ll never use once you’re married off to some prince who only sees you as a broodmare?”

“How dare you! You can’t speak to me like this—!”

“For years, for a bloody decade, Sir Buchanan warned your father about what was coming. He tried to get him to moderate his views, to give the people more voice in government, to stop murdering them when they protested. And when none of that worked and the end was apparent, Sir Buchanan tried to convince your father to abdicate long before he did. Don’t you understand?! None of this needed to happen! Your family could have fled to Britain years ago, before the animosity against your father spread like wildfire across the globe, and Russia could have established their own parliament like Britain’s and negotiated a peace treaty to stay out of the war and none of us would be here now if not for your father’s selfish, pointless obstinacy—!”

“My father is a good man,” I choke out as hot, furious tears burn in my eyes.

“And he was a terrible ruler!” Ben shoots back like artillery. “He ordered protesters to be butchered, he sent untrained boys to die in some other country’s war, he clung to the throne for no one’s benefit but his own—”

“And what about my benefit?” I demand, still weeping, feeling monstrously like a child. “What about my mother’s and my sisters’ and Alexei’s? He must have feared for our futures if we were dethroned and left without any resources, any security, anyplace to call home—”

“He did you no favors,” Ben says harshly. “Half the country—the country that you obviously have not even a rudimentary understanding of—are moderates scrambling to secure the Provisional Government and disentangle themselves from the war while still somehow preserving their dignity and that of the millions of dead soldiers Russia has already laid on the altar. The other half are trying to instigate a wholesale communist revolution. There is no one, no one, who wants the tsar back. And you better pray to God that the communists don’t manage to seize power before King George gets your family out, or your father just might be guillotined on the steps of Saint Basil’s Cathedral.”

I bolt to my feet unsteadily, grip the side of the lurching cart, and leap out onto the dirt road.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ben shouts after me.

I take off sprinting down the road, the wind whipping my face, sobbing as I run beneath the shadows of trees until my lungs are columns of flames and my legs feel wobbly and boneless. I can hear the pounding of the mule’s hooves approaching, the hurtling of wooden wheels, the slapping of leather reins. I am forced to slow to a vigorous march as my body betrays me, wheezing and aching and as ineffectual as a woman is so often assumed to be. The salacious trousers have come in handy once again. Who would have guessed.

Ben pulls up alongside me, reining in the mule to match my pace. “Hey! Get back in the cart!”

“I’ll walk the rest of the way to the railroad station.”

“It’s 200 more kilometers!”

“See you there.”

Now Ben jumps out of the cart. The mule, perplexed but not rattled, comes to a halt and waits in the middle of the road with her long ears angled in opposite directions. Ben rushes in front of me and leans down until we’re at eye-level, breathing heavily. I can smell smoke on him, and something else too: maybe cologne, maybe soap, maybe aftershave, maybe just the scent of a man in his prime. His lips are pink and full and soft-looking, I notice, as if for the first time. His cheeks are irritated and red from the wind; the ruthlessness of the climate here doesn’t agree with him. It is the only way in which I am stronger than he is. His green eyes are wide and blazing. “Get. In. The. Cart.”

“No,” I whisper, tears all over my face.

“You can’t just run off like that,” he pleads, less angry now. “Where are you going to go? There’s nothing out here except trees and…I don’t know…probably bears and wolves and maybe even Siberian tigers. You can’t get ripped apart by wild animals. Don’t you want to make it to London? To argue for your family’s liberation? They could find no fiercer advocate than you, of that I am convinced.”

“How would you possibly protect me from a bear?”

Ben unbuttons his coat and pulls up his white wool sweater to show me a pistol tucked into the holster clipped to his belt. “Just in case,” he says, smirking crookedly, lowering his sweater again. “Now I am keeping no secrets from you, and you are harboring none from me. We’re even.”

I nod, sniffling, thinking of my jewels and photograph hidden in the steamer trunk. My words are so strained I can barely hear them myself, my hands are trembling; hell, I’m trembling all over. The possibility is unimaginable. “Do you really think they’re going to kill Papa?”

Ben sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t,” he replies gently. “I think the Provisional Government will be able to keep the communists in check for now. I think they will leap at the opportunity to ship the former tsar off to Britain without the potential controversy of a trial and execution. And I also think we should get back in the cart and keep moving now.”

“I’m sorry your boss gave you this assignment and now you have to risk your life for a family that you evidently hate,” I lash out like a cornered animal, hissing and brandishing its glinting claws. “For a grand duchess that you hate. This must be an awful inconvenience for you.”

“It’s rather more complicated than that,” Ben says. “There’s some opportunity in it as well.”

Of course: his leather-bound notebook full of observations, his scrawled recollections to one day build into a famed article about our journey. An article full of what he truly thinks about me. I feel suddenly, violently nauseous. I feel horrified.

What happened to the grand adventure that I imagined? Where did it go?

And all at once, I can’t even remember how I pictured this journey unfolding; I can’t conjure up some rose-colored vision of me and Ben falling into an effortless friendship, flirting lightly and innocently, discovering new corners of the earth together, parting ways in London as lifelong confidants. Now I can only see Papa as he murmurs folktales older than Christianity with candlelight dancing on his smiling face, as he chases me and my sisters around the gardens with outstretched arms and sparkling eyes, as he carries Alexei from one room to the next when my brother’s joints are inflamed and excruciating and useless, as he never unburdens his mind to his wife or children but spends long afternoons chopping wood as the sun sinks into the west and the lines in his pale face grow deeper.

He couldn’t be responsible for bloodshed, for mercilessness. He’s not that kind of man. He’s never been that kind of man.

“We really should keep moving,” Ben prompts.

“Fine,” I fling back as I shove by him. I mop my tears away with the sleeve of my wool sweater, climb into the back of the wooden cart, and sit as far as I can from Ben with my bent knees hugged to my chest. I stare silently off into the forest as the mule drags us towards the Trans-Siberian Railroad, towards Moscow and Saint Petersburg and the Baltic Sea and London, towards the conclusion of this tenuous partnership and the redemption of my family. I am looking forward to soon never having to see Benjamin Hardy again, and yet I’m also not; and this is a difficult paradox to put into words of any language.

We don’t stop until it’s almost dusk. Ben hops down from the cart, leads the mule off the road by her bridle (and gives her an encouraging scratch on the forelock when she hesitates), and begins to set up camp in a small clearing encircled by heaps of frost grass. Dinner is loaves of bread again—even more tough and dry than yesterday—and metallic-tasting water from canteens. Dessert is a hand-rolled cigarette for Ben and a handful of honeyberries I found in the bushes for me. And when Ben grapples with the tent, I come over to help him with it just to prove I can.

Ben builds a fire, and we sit wordlessly on opposite sides of it with the reflections of flames in our eyes. Ben jots down today’s thoughts in his notebook, every so often glancing off into nowhere and tapping his chin thoughtfully with the end of his pen, biting his full lower lip absentmindedly as he sifts through the ocean of word in his head to fish out the right one. Meanwhile, I read my copy of Tarzan of the Apes. I stumble across a few English terms I don’t know—quixotic, cartography, constellations, ruminate—but I don’t ask Ben about them.

After a long time, when the moon and stars have emerged bright and ancient in the night sky, Ben closes his notebook and watches me. At first I ignore him. And then, eventually, I can’t anymore.

“What?” I ask irritably, keeping my place in Tarzan of the Apes with my pinky finger, which is nearly numb from the cold.

Ben’s words are calm, restrained, painstakingly chosen. Firelight is fierce and bloody on his face. “I had two infant brothers die of pneumonia, a perfectly preventable illness had they had access to good doctors and proper nutrition and a warm dry home, which they did not. I had a sister die in childbirth because there was no midwife available to attend to her. I have had friends come home from the war with limbs or half their faces missing, a fate which I myself am spared only because of my employment with Sir Buchanan. You have no idea what the world has been through while you were off playing board games and reading novels in greenhouses and lounging on lakeshores with your idyllic little family. You have no idea what life is like for the rest of us. And perhaps that’s not your fault, and it is unjust of me to resent you for it, and I must learn to temper this wrath I’ve been carrying around in my chest since childhood. But it’s still true.”

He stands, clutching his notebook with hands that are red from the savage Siberian wind, and vanishes into the tent.

#ben hardy fic #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast fic

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quixotic-writer · 2 years

Text

Friends With Benefits (part 2)

Request: @im-erin

(sequel to Friends with Benefits)

Summary: The aftermath of a divide between Q and Sal after Sal accidentally drops the L-word. Q shows up to his house and this discussion will determine where their paths go from here

—————————————————————————

It’s been a few days. I haven’t spoken to him since our grand incident in the parking lot after 3 measly words managed to slip past my lips. I didn’t mean for them to, but how could this surprise him at all? I had only spoken to Joe and Murr since then because I didn’t want them thinking that something was going on, heaven forbid Brian’s fragile ego took another blow because of me. I just sat at home alone, I went about my day, but the anger never subsided. I just couldn’t believe everything he said to me.

“The world doesn’t revolve around you princess.” That was the line that got me. It felt like I was being gutted and torn inside out. He didn’t even bother saying anything, he didn’t even try. He got into his car and left without saying much else. Part of me really hoped that he would have some semblance of sanity or something of a brain to try and apologize for what he said, but instead he played it off saying ‘that’s not what I meant.’ Didn’t mean to discount my feelings? Sure.

I felt used, hurt, and crushed.

So here I am sitting on the couch of my house, those memories being the only thing playing in my head on loop. No matter what I watch, no matter what I try to distract myself with, it can’t seem to drown out the intrusive thoughts, the overwhelming emotions, the absolute agony I felt simmering in the unresolved conflict.

Everytime a knock struck the door or the doorbell rang, it was like a game of russian roulette. Was it going to be a sad and downtrot Brian, a Brian seeking sexual pleasure again, a package, a friend, or a relative? And each time that I answered the door, I risked a bullet being placed between my teeth and the universe waiting for me to weigh my decisions and bite the bullet or turn my back. So when I stood at the door with my hand on the knob, my heart began to race and I took a breath before I opened it.

Secretly, I always hoped that it would be Brian. No matter how mad I was, I still missed him, I still loved him. I think those feelings were the only sense of damage control I had, the only thing stopping me from sabotaging anything further and leaving only rubble behind.

When I looked into the eyes of the mystery person on my doorstep, I felt a sinking sensation. Was it anxiety? Sadness? Nostalgia for times where things weren’t the way it was? I couldn’t quite tell at the time. But I know for sure that I missed those poor brown eyes. I had to stand my ground though, I wasn’t going to crawl back so fast, let him take advantage of my vulnerability, or let my heart get in the way of sensibly and reasonably handling the situation we had dangling above our heads.

“Sal…” Just a single word, my name. I took a moment to try and calm the storm that's raging in my head to allow myself to have a sense of stability. I took a moment and a single word came out:

“Yes?” His eyes were darting everywhere, mostly at the floor before him. His hands were fidgeting endlessly. He seemed sober, which is a step above any other time I've seen him handle any emotional conflicts.

“I needed to see you… I wanted to talk… About the other day.” His eyes wanted to be let in, and I caved and stepped out of the way to let him in. I closed the door behind us, and when I turned around, he grabbed my face and our lips were connected. I quickly created a divide between us, scared that this was going to go down a route that would only lead to long term damage.

“Brian, you said we should talk. For once, do not try and do the whole ‘makeup sex’ thing. This is serious.” I set down the boundary and he looked even more guilty.

“I just missed you…”

“I missed you too, but you did a lot of damage Bri, and it still hurts.” We sat on either side of the couch, a reasonable distance between us even though deep down all I wanted was to feel the warmth of his embrace again, kiss him again, and have everything and see everything I used to before it all fell apart.

“I hurt you…” He started, “I hurt you. I said things that I can never take back because they’re already out there. Over these past few days I missed you more than I thought I would have. I wanted to call, but I was too scared to.”

“Missed me? Or missed my body and the sex?” His face turned red and I knew I caught him in a corner.

“I’ll admit, I do miss the sex, but I do miss you.” For a moment, I didn’t believe him. Brian Quinn, the smoothest guy I have known all my life could talk circles around someone, and I know he could do it to me too. Actions speak a lot more than words, so I would need to see it to believe it. Either that or he would have to say something unfathomably profound for him in order to win me back or fix things. “You saying that word, it scared me. I don’t like anything serious anymore and I know that you know that. You’re my best friend for crying out loud! It felt too real and I think… no, I know that hearing you say that stirred something in me. I was so scared because I realized after leaving the parking garage that it was because I felt the same way.”

“But of all the people you could be scared of, why be scared of me?” It hurt hearing that he was potentially scared of me. His best friend since high school and he was scared of me, scared of loving me, scared of being seen with me.

“I was scared to admit out loud that I realized I was bisexual. I’ve always been Q the lady charmer, Q the guy that could get any girl, Q the one tied down to no one. But you started changing it all.”

“So you’re scared of being seen with me? You cared more about your sexual reputation than my feelings?” I got defensive really quick despite it probably being a faulty choice of words, but him caring more about himself than about how he treated me that day and this whole affair we had going took him down a few pegs in my head.

“I did, I won’t lie. It’s not easy being in the public eye, you understand this. Of course it’s a more accepted thing, but I somehow built up this narrative in my head that it’s such a drastic shift between this view everyone had of me. I’d be ridiculed, judged, casted out.”

“Now, why would you think anyone in your life that actually matters would ever do something that damaging to you? Joe, Murr, Bryan, your family, everyone. I know for a fact that none of them would ever make you feel bad.” He rubs his hands over his face and takes a shaky breath.

“I know. I rationalized that part of me over the past few days. It’s just scary being faced with the reality of yourself after lying to yourself for so long. Everything you spent so long building up comes crumbling down around you and it feels like you're losing everything. I didn’t expect you to call me on it, but you did.” He chuckled. I’ve never really been one to keep quiet on problems for too long because I hate the discomfort of it all, so I'll willingly open my mouth even if it potentially could lead to a blow up like Brian and I did. “I was scared and started destroying everything that was left standing, especially the one of the few good things that I had, because might as well make everything else come crumbling down. But, I realized, it destroyed me the rest of the way as well. And when there’s nothing but destruction around you, you have two options: sit and sulk in the rubble of your own making, or pick yourself up and start rebuilding everything as best as you can. So, that’s why I'm here. I want to fix what I damaged: my best friend. It won’t look the same as before, but I sure as hell hope I can build it up better and with a stronger foundation so something like this won’t knock it down ever again.” His words were quickly winning me over.

I finally understood him. It’s a scary thing to say considering he’s my best friend and we usually tell each other everything and we know each other in and out. This felt like a new layer peeled away and into the very depths of his soul. He was exposing a part of himself that was extremely vulnerable, and knowing for myself, it’s not an easy thing to do.

“Brian…”

“I want to say I'm sorry. Sorry for seemingly stringing you along for so long without even realizing the damage I was doing. Sorry for purposely hurting you to drive you away. Sorry for walking out when I should have tried to fix it. Sorry for not saying anything for so long because I was being selfish and only thinking about my own feelings. Sorry for using you. I haven’t been a good friend at all. This isn’t shit you do to someone you’ve known for most of your life.”

“I should have said something sooner to you, but I didn’t want to destroy what I had. I felt like I almost had what I wanted, and it wasn’t good enough, but I knew saying something would have tarnished it. Like I said, I played just as much a part in this as you did. We didn’t communicate when we should’ve.” My heart felt like it was in my throat and it felt hard to swallow. All this pain, all this heartache. I know it all could have been less destructive, but at the same time you just never really know.

We grew silent. Unsure of where to go next, but his hand was on mine, and it felt so comforting.

“Did… Did you ever sleep with anyone else while we were playing around?” It was a genuine question I had because I just couldn’t be sure, and I hoped he was honest.

“No.” He answered quickly but softly. “It was always only you… and I think that should’ve been sign enough for me that just maybe… I was falling for you too. But I was too caught up in my own fears to realize it.” Silence again.

“…So, what are we now? What do you want us to be?” I asked. He took a moment to really think, to give me a reasonable answer.

“I want you Sal. It’s taken me this long to admit it, but I know 100% that I want you. Only you.” He squeezed my hand, and just like that, it all had melted away. All the anger, all the conflict, gone. Of course I'm sure he knew as well as I did that things weren’t going to be perfect and that there were things that we both still needed to talk about in depth and figure out, but he seemed open to it now, so I knew in the long run that we would be okay.

“I want you too, Bri.” He smiled, and so did I. We leaned in and our lips were together once again, but this time, it was a mutual connection. We pulled away and it felt different than any other time we had kissed, and that made my heart soar. “There’s still so much we have to talk about, things we have to do…”

“I know, but I think I'm ready for all of that now.” And that was all I needed to hear. A new chapter, a new chance, and I'm happy it’s with him.

#mild angst #fluff #vulquinn #suki writes

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curiousscientistkae · 3 years

Text

im going to get on a soap box a bit lol. Again, I hate I have to do this but some people can’t grasp others have different opinions this is just me venting. It’s tagged as it should be, under the cut, and I am not here to like go after anyone. Only say how i feel and maybe get others to at least understand a different side. You dont not have to read this and if you disagree with me, just ignore this post, block it, block me. I DON’T WANT TO ARGUE I just want to fuckin vent and express how I feel

anyway idk I am just very tired rn with how much the internet eats up c//a and like puts it on a pedestal. I can rant about how I don’t feel like it should have it or how it was poorly written or how it COULD have been great but falls short. But what I want to talk about is

how fuckin tiring it is to see it all the time when it is fucking triggering. Yes, I block the tags on like tumblr. I am happy i follow people who like tag that and if something gets untagged i block the post or maybe unfollow the person. If i am in the tags and see it somehow or someone it the icon, I block. I do it for my own sake

but so many other sites are not like that. Fuck joining discord servers now I am a bit on edge cause lol I don’t know who will have that as an icon and if they do I will block. or if people start to talk about it, I have to think to myself “will I be thought of as a ‘villain’ for asking to spoiler it or not talk about c/a at all” because yes a lot of people will respect me and my trigger but I have see SO many people disrespect people hurt by s/pop and c//a. So many times have people put us down or say we are not abuse victims or don’t understand it when MANY of us have been abused. When many of us see ourselves in Adora or wanted Catra to get better and saw us in her also. I cannot speak for everyone but so many of us wanted this to work out one way or another and all we got was a trigger and being bullied and harassed and told our abuse isn’t real (or we are racist or X-phobic when many of us are poc or queer)

there is just like no escaping c/a and it SUCKS as someone who is triggered by it. It sucks on sites where blocking is not as good as it is here, I have to play russian roulette. Fuck on youtube ill be watching a video and BAM a random c//a clip. It so fuckin tiring

and i loved s/pop. I relate to Adora so much so and that is why it hurts so much. ive been abused, I have been in toxic relationships, and I wanted good things for Adora and yet, now I got a trigger because s/pop was so poorly handled.

again I am not here to attack anyone, if you find comfort in c//a I am not here to change your mind. The fact of the matter is so many people got hurt by this. That there is another side to the story and we have been left in the dust. And it just is tiring to be now walking on eggshells because you say one bad thing (which guess what you are allowed! to criticize shows you like! its how we learn from mistakes and get better!!!) and then you have a horde of people attacking you and saying your trauma, your experiences as a queer person or abused person or person of color is not valid at all.

it just fuckin sucks man

#spop critical #discourse #salt #spop salt #don't read if you don't want salt #i know a lot of you know how i feel about it #and again if you like it and what not idc #good for you #but for me and many others #we are hurting STILL #and i ust wish #people would get that #and that seeing an icon doesn't fucin trigger me #q word

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danganronpedits-archived · 4 years

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psst hi. can i get some headcanons for an au mukuro whos actually the ultimate daydreamer, and the entire plot of danganronpa is actually just her daydreams involving her classmates, please? im just curious owo

ooh, you definitely can! that’s a really interesting au... i assume it’s not your canon? but that sounds really cool! sorry if my headcanons are long, i just really like thinking about stuff like that!

mukuro honestly isn’t sure how she got accepted into hope’s peak academy- i mean, someone like her is on the same level as someone like byakuya? ...wild.

she’d tend to space out during class, and no one would really notice it, or if they did they’d just go, “it’s her talent,” and leave it at that.

when she first started dreaming up danganronpa, it was influenced by a horror game she had been playing- like the witch’s house, or your turn to die even, if we wanna get wild.

the daydreams were strangely intriguing? she had been really interested in things like russian roulette and death game-centric media for a while now.

sometimes she’d start doodling the executions in class... the classmates that were subjected to said executions would also occasionally see them, and it would...

concern them, to say the least. leon and teruteru definitely asked her if she was planning on killing them- she got it cleared up pretty quickly, though.

she makes a special note not to show junko the daydreams- while her sister doesn’t actually mean any harm... she could if she wanted to. mukuro would rather not risk it.

she tells toko a lot of her daydreaming ideas. the writer’s relationship with komaru was inspired by how mukuro... platonically yearns for her, in a sense? like, i’d imagine mukuro goes, “toko seems so cool...!” but she tends to push away mukuro.

her and makoto are really close, actually! they bond over not feeling like their talents are really, like... the “typical” standard for hope’s peak.

mukuro hangs out with the reserve course students a lot.

...i’m cutting myself off before these get too long. but i hope these are as good as you imagined!!! i’m not too confident in my headcanons, but hopefully these are interesting anyways! thank you for requesting, anon!

-mod tsu (kotoko shift)

#danganronpa au #danganronpa headcanons #mukuro ikusaba #danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #✿ they don't want this kind of ending! / anon #♡ ultimate cosplayer! / request finished

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whatevenismyaestheticidk · 4 years

Text

Things I’ve heard high schoolers say pt 2

Person 1: But air doesn’t splash Person 2: How do we know that, Im splashing the air right now.

Person: Prove me wrong. Prove fish can’t see air.

Person: I think you underestimate just how poor I am.

Person: I just invented a new thing. No Romo. Like no homo but with romance cause I’m lonely. Get it?

Person: So yah I burned my hair cooking ramen.

Person: Well I figured he wasn’t an adopted iguana.

Person: Say it. You know god is watching.

Person 1 upon heading the news of George Bush’s death: Wait he’s still alive? Person 2: No he’s dead that’s the point.

Person: I got it. *five second pause* no I don’t got it.

Person 1: My name is (name), but you can call me yours. Person 2: Okay nice to meet you yours.

Person: Don’t drink it all fool.

Person: Bruh you could literally turn in a gay fanfic and he’d give it an A.

Person: Bruh, what is this triangular accusation?

Person 1:It’s call physics. Person 2: Yah but I don’t take Physics hence they should not apply to me.

Person 1: Discreet. Person 2: No discr-yeet *dabs*

Person 1: Be impressed with my ability to bull shit. Person 2: I mean, it’s gotten you this far.

Person: Why do I feel like finals are lowkey Russian roulette? Like okay I made it through most of them but I still have a few pulls of the trigger to go and one of them might get me.

Person 1: Murder. Just do it. Person 2: I didn’t know that nike was sponsoring murder.

Person: How do mermaids reproduce if they’re just like conjoined legs?

Person 1: Frozen Yogurt Person 2: Fro yo Person 1: Frozen YOgUrt Person 2: Fro Yo Person 1: FROZEN YOGURT

Person: All I have to do to commit suicide is jump from my parents expectations to my grades.

Person 1: I mean yah I cheated on that test. Person 2: Man your love life it DOOMED!

Person: I was seeing if I was tripophobic by repeatedly stabbing my finger with my pen.

Person: You do know that crickets exist during the day right?

Person 1: Hey (person 2), we’re friends right? Person 2: ….. What do you want. Person 1: You know, that sandwich looks real good. *person 2 hand them the sandwich* OMIGOD THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!

Person: Omigod (person’s name) is going through puberty!

Person: If you pulled my ear I would have ripped out your nostril.”

Person 1: She’s attacking me! Person 2: No, he’s beating a woman, that’s not polite.

Person 1: I know many things! Person 2: like what? Person 1: ..... Person 2: my point.

Person: My shoes will be sparkly red stilettos. Fight me Dorothy.

Person: umm hello Christmas miracle even though I’m not Christian. Come at me 15 years from now!

Person 1: you’d make a really good baldie Person 2: yah you have a really rest head shape

Person: you know teletubbies? Yah that but compressed.

Person 1: I mean how will you become American? Person 2: paint me white, I’ll get a passport.

Person 1: I’m so funny. Person 3: it’s hard not to be when your life is a joke.

Person 1: So I’ve decided that my new career choice is to make school specific memes Person 2: That's Plan A? Yeash... at least Plan B lands you some cash

Person: I’m so small and bitter I’m like a human expresso

Person: You know what I’d name a baby kangaroo if I had one? David Jowie.

Person: I’m just saying that the orange red glitter crayon is you.

Person: I feel like a 1940’s schoolgirl who goes to an all girl finishing school where embroidery is a required class.

Person: I started high school with straight A’s, now I’m not even straight.

Person: Yeah, I’d swear by comic sans.

Person: (Persons name)stop being depressy and you’ll be more sucessy

Person: You can totally be insecure and self absorbed at the same time.

Person 1: Are you kids okay? Person 2: Besides crippling depression yeah.

Person: I don’t know it’s just giving me pig vibes.

Person: What drugs where the animators for “Pink Elephants on Parade” on?

Person: long story short I make like a semi hot guy.

Person: If I where pregnant id just be like 'you put this thing inside of me, you're helping me until it's out.'

Person: These girls asked me what type of guys I like and being the simple gay I am, I completely blanked

Person 1: why do you read on your phone if you get carsick at 20 minutes? Person 2:Because it works for the first 19 minutes.

Person: Three Indians, a Thai, a Colombian, and an American walk into a bar. Just kidding they aren't old enough to drink. Three Indians, a Thai, a Colombian, and an American walk into a school cafeteria...

Person: I can't do alcohol cause I'm not of age but I can do drugs because they're illegal for everyone.

Person 1: you can't have a breakdown, it's the third day of school. Person 2:... so?

*Group of kids singing Bohemian Rhapsody in twelve different keys* Person: For gods sake choose a key!

Person: For gods sake that was complicated. You didn't need to send out a survey to see which episode of which season of which show to watch.

Person: Honestly I'd chose stab over dab any day.

Person 1: She said she'd throw me out of the window. Person 2: She never did. Person 1: She never did.

Person: What language is this? *pause* Oh wait it's English.

Person 1: I mean it's pretty hit or miss. Person 2 from across the courtyard: I guess they never miss, huh?

Person: Chu-chu bitch. I’m a train.

Person after loosing game of kahoots: I’m going to ka-shoot myself.

Person: So basically I need to learn Hungarian for a song.

Person: No one screams their sneeze, its not human

Person: If I where a mosquito I would bite you and you’d get malaria and die.

Person: That tide pod aesthetic.

Person: No I loved Barney, Barney was my bo.

Person: If I where my own boyfriend I’d dump me.

Person: It's already a really good song but then it's dubstep so it's extra good.

Person: No one is EVER to old for coolmathgames.com

Person 1: Why are you using a poon? Person 2:….. Person 1: WHY ARE YOU USING A POON?!

Person 1: I’ve been blonde for 16 years. Person 2: So what? I’ve been brown for 16 years and you don’t see me coloring myself white!

Person: Yes. Scrape the sweat off my hand.

Person: No one cares about a square cube of water.

Person: We’re melanin intoxicated.

Person: Well my life may be a mess, but at least I’m not doing drugs. Yet.

Person: Negative 13 out of 10, do not recommend.

Person: Yah that’s gunna have to be a no from me.

Person: Fool me once......fool me twice.......fool me as many times as you want, my first name is dumbass.

Person 1: Ya know, I think the Americans have the order of dates right JUST BECAUSE you can do 4/20/2019. Person 2: Okay but they’re still wrong though.

Person with AirPods: And where are YOUR AirPods? Thats what I thought you broke bitches.

Person: Salem witch trials bitches.

Person: La Croix, the AirPods of the soda world.

Person: Who needs a thermometer when you have… your hands!?

Person 1: It’s time to bring back SEXY MASQUERADE BALLS Person 2: It really is. I need an excuse to wear an incredibly uncomfortable dress that's so big I can't even walk through doorways. Person 1: And to wear a swan inspired mask that doesn’t cover enough of my face to deem myself totally anonymous enough to be half as bold and daring as i plan on acting that night but everyone else is on board we’ll all just forget about it the next day. Person 2: That's to specific for you to have made up on the spot, you've thought about this.

Person: It was lady Macbeth that drugged and made the guards drunk, without her Macbeth would just be like “I guess I’ll stab him???” Person: It’s like playing where’s Waldo but the page is India and I’m Waldo.3Person: Why are there so many frowny faces everywhere?

Person: This group chat is weird. It's either homework, deep philosophical conversations, or memes, there's no in between.

Person 1: Honestly, where DID it come from Person 2: The endless abyss that is the internet.

Person: Are you really blaming our generational depression on Jake Paul?

Person 1: Oh. My. God. Guys. Keep your carbon dioxide away from my computer. Person 2: But sharing is caring. Person 1: But my computer doesn’t need this kinda of negativity in its life right now.

Person: Sweetie, if you think I’m going to stop wearing my favorite dress just because you kissed me in it, you are dead wrong.

Person with a metal straw: I don't drink broke.

Person: My whole life has become that sock on the floor. It's just there. When did life screw us over and then just ex? I’m just gonna write a book, and the last sentence will be life screwed them over and then exed. A story of the main character who gets screwed over, so I can get that 'it be like that sometimes' reaction.

Person in group chat: Positivity- I will make you feel better about being an idiot. Self Doubt- I will highlight all of your mistakes and set low standards for you so you'll never be disappointed. Me to Self Doubt- I'm listening...

Person 1: Sadly the disappointment never goes away... Person 2: Man we're a sad lot this time of year.

Person 1:It’s almost my favorite time of the year Person 2:Ahh yes. Singles awareness day, also known as chocolate sales at Walgreens eve, also known as... Valentine's Day. Person 1:... Oh... I meant rainy season.

Person: Being antivax is like swimming in shark infested waters because you're afraid the bridge could break lmao.

Person: I learned how eat a kumquat this weekend.

Person: It’s so sticky. It’s like clear cheese.

Person: Hamburger helper? More like hamburger help me pass this class.

Person 1: So I slipped on a grape… Person 2: You got K.O.’ed by a grape (person’s name), how does it feel.

Person 1: Look at me, I’m fine. Person 2: Well how many drugs did you take. Person 1: Several.

Person 1: Did you just say it’s ALMOST FEBRUARY? Person 2: Yes, it’s January 72nd.

Person: I knew your comedic standards where low, but poop jokes? Really?

Person: What? So are you insinuating the fact that reliablest isn't a word?

Person 1: [bitter old man voice] back in my day, tik tok was a kesha song. Person 2: Back in my day we had wires attached to our AirPods.

Person: There's a reason rainbows aren't straight. Just saying.

Person reading sheet music and seeing mf crescendo: I forgot that mezzo forte was a thing for a second so I thought it said mother fucker as a crescendo but mood

Person: He looks like a fine piece of toasted white bread.

Person: If life hasn't given me a fist bump by now, why should I give life one?

Person: we all died in 2012 this is hell.

Person 1: Who wants a pamphlet on condoms? Person 2: Why do you have this? Do you collect them? Person 1: Yah it’s my hobby. I have this one, one on HIV and one on teenage pregnancy.

Person: We live a society where reading about assassins and gory details is a hobby.

Person: Stop breathing so loudly on my thumb!

Person 1: I’m the comic relief. Person 2: For what? Person 1: Myself.

Person1: Who’s your valentine this year? Person 2: Me, myself and I. Person 1: Wow three valentines, you really can’t keep them away can you?

Person: Why do women gotta get their period, why not men. I wish I was born a seahorse.

Person 1: No we can’t all fit, her car is smol. Like you. Person 2: Says you miss 5 foot nothing lmao. Person 1: Hey we’re the same hight so says you miss 5 foot nothing.

Person: No, that’s cheating no emotionally disabling people.

Person 1: Why is it that we’re talking about someone burning eggs on two different group chats. Person 2: Hey I didn’t burn them. Person 3: Cause why not?

Person 1: That’s not how an Australian accent works. Person 2: This is why I’m not Australian, I don’t have the koala-fications.

Person 1: I’m Indian, numbers run through my blood. Person 2: That’s like saying I’m going to marry my cousin just because I’m white.

Person: So I ate veggies and hummus for lunch but then I counterbalanced it by eating a spoon full of straight Nutella.

Person: Seagulls, California Pigeons, what’s the difference?

Person 1: I humbly apologize and request your forgiveness. Person 2: I humbly decline your request for forgiveness.

Person: I think I’m permanently stuck somewhere between “If you mess with me I’ll fight” and “If you mess with me I’ll cry.”

Person 1: It was implied! Person 2: What’s implied is your inability to accept that fact that I’m right!

Person 1: I got lazy because I was eating Pringles. Person 2: She values Pringles more than me.

Person: Yo, you be the crazy ex girls they be talking about in memes.

Person: I swear (persons name) if I hooked up with squidward in your dream your subconscious and I need to have a little talk.

Person: You get to die, and you get to die! Everybody gets to die!

Person: How do you just add a child?

Person 1: Look at this ink based pencil. Person 2: A pen?  Person 1: This egg is all broken. Person 2: It’s like you then, you both broke under the pressure.

Lakshmi: Don’t force your opinion, voice it.

Person 1: If I where a fruit, which one would I be? Person 2: Sushi. Person 1:… Sushi isn’t a fruit.

Person: I mean it’s not straight up “Yo come here I’m gunna kill you.”

Person: Bye gays, bye (other girls name).

Person 1: No (person B) stop. Just shut up. You’re making me loose brain cells. Person 2: But… Person 1: No. Just no.

Person: Stop. That is non-consensual pizza eating.

Person 1: Cheese is not a vegetable! Person 2: Well it’s not a meat either! Person 3: Guys… It’s dairy.

Person: Idiots have priority over just regular dumb people

Person: God melted the polar ice caps just to make it rain for Noah then refroze them. I don’t know (kids name) I’m not god!

Person: You and I will go out, and leave them to their raw fish rolled in sea salad.

Person: Does anyone else get really energized when they change their room? Just me? Okay.

Person: I hope you know I will diss you guys to the end of the earth.

Person: Bruh talk to (person’s name) I don’t know sh… *notices teacher looking at her*…niahhh.

Person 1: The thing is, I don’t want to be 80 that’s rough. Person 2: Then just die at 50.

Person: You’d be scrambled eggs with hair.

Person: Seeing you two fighting, it’s like seeing a piece of light fighting a black hole.

Teacher: What can you tell me about probability? Student 1: I hate it. Student 2: Dont you mean you? Student 1: Yes both.

Person: My brain has the dumb I’m sorry

Person 1: If my first word was no, I’m assuming that’s foreshadowing for them my family disowns me after I renounce religion and systemic abuse. Person 2: Or…. You just need to make sure your last word is yes. Person 1: Yes to what though? Person 2: ‘Are you dying?’ Yes.’ Pessimism, just your style. Person 1: That’s true.

Person: My parents don’t message me, they’re the type of people who CALL. Where did I get my social anxiety from??

Person: Well guys it's been great knowing you I’m just going to drown now.

Person: I figured out a new diet regime, it’s called sleeping until noon and just not eating breakfast.

Person: The f on my birth certificate was the doctor paying their respects.

Person: Chocolates with raspberry filling are the sole reason I’m still alive.

Person 1: Isn’t Latin a dead language? Person 2: You’re a dead language!

Person: Hydrate before you diedrate.

Person 1: you have a son named Spider-Man? Person 2: what noooo! Person 3: well don’t expose her!

Person: That awkward moment when you just really don’t care about people.

Person 1: (Person 2) and I will be over here with my virgin margarita and her water. Person 2: Hey! I want apple juice! Person 3: Why are you not drinking (Person 1)? Person 2: Because she’s to single, and also she’d strip. Person 1: Woahh! How dare you assume that I’m not drinking because I’m to single?

Person 1: Ya know, I think I’m going to have to jazz hands my way through hell. Person 2: All of us will.

Person: Brown town children, y’all find someone in India?

Person 1: Wow you have the best backup singers. Person 2: I only hire the best, at least 5 stars in yelp. Person 1: Well good because that’s the sound they’re making.

Person: The cold kills everything, it’s like my heart.

Person 1: Remember the rolls I brought to school last year that I used to give you? The ones with paneer and the really good spices? Person 2: Yah? Person 1: This is not at all the same thing.

Person 1: What’s stevia? Person 2: It’s like sugar but no.

Person 1: Yeetus Skelettus. Person 2: Fetus Deletes? Honey, that’s called abortion.

Person: Anything for you. That’s what you said. Anything for you. But when I ask for just one bite of your pasta? No!

Person 1: I've written 1,300 words and don’t have a thesis statement or topic question Person 2: Yeah, you need to figure that out.

Person 1: you know I had a dream that you where in a romantic relationship with a toaster. Person 2: wasn’t that your relationship with (ex’s name)? Person 1: you’d have more chemistry with a toaster.

Person: Can people read colors? Cause I am ooo.

Person: It’s like hands but medusa

Person: You look like a cardboard jellyfish that’s brown

Person 1: Two of us like boys. Person 2: We all like boys. Person 1: Two of us like ONLY boys.

Person: you’re like a reverse plant. You convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.

Person: Shhhhh. I’m not in physics, let me be dumb in peace.

Person: Why are you laying down like some greek god, get up you brown child.

Person 1: Do all of you just think you’re going to be single? Person 2: I already am why not keep the streak going to get a high score?

Person: and now cracks of light are coming out from around the sides like some sort of computer Jesus!

People 1 and 2: Rock Paper Scissors Person 3: shoot me please.

Person 1: not since 9/11 you can’t. Person 2: dang. You just tossed your whole country just to prove a point. I’ve never been so proud.

Person 1: what is an angle of depression? Person 2: it’s my life. Person 1: no it’s you because it’s not straight.

Person: Boom. Lesbians.

Person 1: Well what if two rocks just washed up at the same time and humans. Person 2: Evolution.

Person: Watermelon isn’t good anymore, I swear its just water with food coloring.

Person: You being dumb makes me want to correct you, sos too being dumb cause I’m on vocal rest.

Person: well (persons name) who have you a mouth?

Person: Teachers that grade late work deserve all the love and cookies and cake in the world.

Person 1: honestly I just want to die right now. Person 2: same. Literally same.

Person: I just feel like a single molecule lost in space.

Person: who’s gunna stop me? God? Damn him to hell.

Person: the line is not actually straight it’s like (students name)

Person 1: It’s your favorite sleep deprived gay. Person 2: But I’m my favorite sleep deprived gay. Self love. Person 1: We Stan.

Person 1: Why do you have a tool? Person 2: Because my hair is moist.

Person: eating lead was an otherworldly experience

Person 1: I have everything stolen from me 2: at least you have the tiniest bit of dignity left 3: what dignity? 1: exactly

Person 1:( holding up katsup) does this go on salad?

Person:I’m turning red! Me! A brown girl!

Person: I’m not trying argue that we should date, I’m just saying.

Person 1: what’s your biggest turn on? Person2 : a light switch Person 2: or then leaving.

Person 1: what is the most attractive retire on someone Person 2: my own face

Person: you’d be that one bar do white chocolate that just sits in the feidge because no one wants it

Person: that’s like saying I’d rather see your shirt than your face.

Person: why would I shut up when I can shut (kids name) down

Person: Subtle. Gay. Vibes. I’m telling you.

Person: just watch me write my ee on all the reasons why nick caraway is gay. Just watch me.

Person: Why are you stereotyping. What if the body doesn’t want trucks, what if he wants to be a fairy.

Person: being ace is basically just eww no but like forever.

Person: Stop trying to science your way out of being wrong.

Person: even if you did ask me out I’d still say no so then you’d even be rejected by a trash can

Person 1: you can’t read cheese color. Person 2: yellow?

Person 1: Think about it like you’re brown Person 2: She is brown Person 1: Then act like it

Person: You’re not an ugly frog, you’re a beautiful human being. Person: I am. Very very dumb. And also. Bisexual.

Person: I was thinking of something smart but then I forgot what it was.

Person: I want to skip the crush phase and just make out with someone.

Person 1: The only way to get into the Holland family is to marry in through Paddy. Person 2: (Person 1’s name) this isn’t the royal family.

Person: Omigod you looked like the human version of squid ward.

Person: I want to be smart. Where can I learn smart stuff?

Person: But plant the seed and smoke the weed and chop the cane.

Peeeson 1: that is the definition of meter? Person 2: about 3 feet. Person 1: okay thanks America

Person 1: who’s Tom Holland? Person 2: Spider-Man you uncultured swine!!

Person: I am not a children

Person: Ohh dang yeah forgot chickens existed for a while

Person: Hey! Don’t narrate my water!

Person: I don’t read water.

Person: Think of it as a relationship. If you and your ex break up they are salty but you profit because you wanted to end it but if you end it weak, then y’all will argue back and forth and get nowhere with ending it while still exchanging insults.

Person: You know those really sexual mattress adverts?

Person: Oh please, you have the sexual appeal of an easy bake oven.

Person 1: weed is a gate way drug Person 2: YOURE A GATEWAY DRUG!

Person: (first, middle, last name), I love you to the end of the earth. But you are a daft child.

Person 1: She’s like that type of girl. She’s the long paragraph white girl. Person 2: Well that’s a niche if I’ve even seen one.

Person 1: swing you two fight is like watching two ants fight. Person 2: you friking piece of bacteria!

Person: I’m just an intellectual.

Person: I will murder your face off.

Person: that’s like a kilometer tall.

Person: It’s weird when I pet you horizontally.

Person: to be honest I thought those were rocks in a jar for the longest time. Turns out they weren’t.

Person: does she have a brother or gay tendencies

Person: I’m going to slap your hand like it’s a fricking spider.

Person: I like your face better blurry.

Person: every night at about midnight someone starts googling astrology

Person: I will kick you. I will murder your soul.

Person 1: I’m just going to marry a millionaire. Person 2: Where are you gunna finds a millionaire in this economy?

Person: Welcome to my tea party, there isn’t any tea to drink, but we have a lot of it to spill.

Person: Yah, it was something about sex or something.

Person: You’re all uncultured swines.

Person: I’m about as straight as a sine curve.

Person 1: They’re not Oreo’s you dumb head Person 2: I know that dumber head. Person 3 :Shut up dumbest heads

Person: As an ex foetus i can say with authority that if my mother had aborted me i wouldn't have known nor would i have given a fuck

Person: I’ve just accepted I’m going to fail this test. I’ve gone through the 5 stages of grief already.

Person: Yes I’m blind that’s why I need glasses fool.

Person: what the fork do you want you little son of a biscuit.

Person: Anyway now I’m taking Tylenol PM and I’m going to actually sleep tonight that’ll be fun.

Person: I need all the hoodies. ALL OF THEM.

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