E.

Understand the palm of my hand, bitch!

[resorceful]

E.D-O. Are you the betrayer or the betrayed? (Carrd)

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 6

you saw me as someone worth saving.

i didn’t want what happened to change the way you saw me.

we’re gonna get through this. we kind of have to.

sometimes our mistakes follow us.

in fact, i did not start out a bad person.

glory’s fine. revenge is more fun.

as usual, i make the wrong decision.

i was scared. i’m just tired of being scared. 

all that rage is bad for your complexion. 

you are so sweet and naive and dumb.

curious. how many more rock bottoms are you going to have to hit before you start taking care of yourself?

i used to think a lot of shit matters.

talking makes things real. and real things end.

i wanted to be a part of your world. but i didn’t know your world was like this. 

i’m so sick of people telling me who i am.

the guilt of it all. what are we supposed to do with that? 

i don’t want to be afraid anymore.

it’s like i always used to need someone else to make me feel whole. 

you didn’t let me down.

you’re this fiery, passionate person.

we’re working to stop the monsters and to stop people from turning into monsters.

it’s important to have an exit plan that’s more than just an exit.

maybe it’s not so bad when you’re the one holding the knife.

at least i know who i am.

i’m nobody’s guiding light.

i don't belong to anybody.

i was alone. surrounded by people, but still alone.

rise and shine, we’re in hell. 

this is the worst it’s been. that feeling in the pit of my stomach.

you’re going dark on me again.

if you’re bullshitting me, i don’t care.

i never wanted to be the bad guy.

why did anyone ever do shit for me when all i ever did was let them down?

look at you, always standing in my fucking way.

your memory is like… lethally selective.

what if we end up making each other freaking miserable?

what if i hurt you? i’ve hurt people before. very badly.

for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you.

you’re the future, kid. never forget that. 

i guess i just want it to make some kind of sense.

however this plays out, i’m seeing it through with you.

you’ve done a lot, no question. but there is always more.

you believed in me when i didn’t.

this may shock you, but not everyone here likes you.

this place makes you face your demons or something, and turns out, your demons are really fucking ugly.

maybe in the end it’ll be me and you trying together. 

maybe it makes me selfish. i don’t think it makes me wrong.

there’s a whole world out there for you. go. fight for it. be brave.

i'm talking the greater good. doesn't always have to be what's best for everybody.

it doesn’t matter how shitty they are. it still fucks you up when they’re gone.

sometimes, someone comes into your life at just the right moment, you know?

stop being mad at me for wanting a different future.

you’re not like the others. but you know that, don’t you?

this isn’t pressure. it’s winning. 

i want a life where we can just… be. 

the worst has already fucking happened. i don’t think i’ve got it in me to be that scared about something that could be good.

we can’t save anyone until we save ourselves.

if you’re with me, i need you to say it.

what gives you the right to choose who lives and who dies?

i don’t know how this is going to end or what happens to me, but for whatever it’s worth, i am with you. 

why am i always doing bad things in your dreams?

you don’t trust anybody else to take care of things.

enough people have died. 

tell me you didn’t kill anyone. if you say it, i’ll believe you.

thank you for believing in me. 

i don’t wanna die.

i was just following your lead the whole time. we all were.

i’m not a hero. i’m just helping a friend.

i don’t think this is goodbye. 

you need someone to help get you there, and you have to get there.

i’m sorry you met me, but i’m glad i got to know you. i’ll never forget you.

can’t i just blame everything on my mother and be done with it?

the whole world’s haunted.

i did monstrous things. 

you’re happy. which you’re allowed to be, in case you didn’t know.

just because someone saved your life doesn’t mean you have to live the rest of it for them.

it is not up to you to carry everyone else.

put your trust in other people. in me.

sometimes, helping hurts like hell.

i just wish sometimes i had a map to figure you out.

it’s a crazy world out here, full of people who sometimes disappoint us, but it’s damn beautiful.

i’m sorry. small words for something so big.

what do you live for? living takes effort now, it takes everything. those still alive have their reasons.

the world is nothing without hope.

think about what you want. what you truly want.

the bad things we do must be done. we carry that burden so the others don’t have to.

i’m gonna screw with your life just like the way you did with mine.

this place, it’s safe. it’s good for everybody.

we take what we got, and we make it work.

they changed the game, so we change how we play.

oh my god, you killed him.

[2kiras]

the     patio     was     as     far     as     josh     had     made     it     into     the     outside     world     in     months.           even     now,      he     sits     in     a     weather     torn     porch     chair     with     his     bed's     duvet     wrapped     over     his     shrinking     shoulders     as     if     it     was     the     sole     tether     keeping     him     on     earth's     surface.

it     was     raining     now,      creating     a     wall     that     felt     protective     and     promising     between     the     pair     and     the     acres     of     woodland     and     lake     front     that     cornered     the     washington     property,      slipping     off     and     over     the     side     of     the     awning     in     rhythmic     tandem.           but     josh's     eyes     were     on     emily -- particularly     that     shoulder     she     had     pointedly     allowed     out     of     the     confines     of     her     jacket     on     a     day     that     very     much     so     warranted     its     calm     collective     in     usual     circumstances -- for     he'd     since     given     up     the     niceties     of     every     day     conversation.           staring     is     no     longer     rude,      it     is     simply     a     right.           just     as     the     coffee     that     seeps     around     the     curves     of     her     knuckles     is     her     right     to     spill.           he     wonders     when     the     hell     she     stopped     drinking     it     without     10     pumps     of     caramel.           or     maybe     that     was     hannah.

“     I     know     you're     joking,     ”           a     hum,      a     whisper     above     the     pitter     patter,      leaning     forward     in     his     seat     and     bowling     his     wrists     into     his     own     lap,           “     but     I     think     mom's     trying     to     get     rid     of     me     anyway.     ”

it's     a     childish     accusation,      bred     of     instability     and     concern     and     a     mountain     of     guilt     that     he     was     still     standing     at     the     base     of,      scratching     the     back     of     his     head     with     blood     stained     nails     and     debating     if     he     should     climb     or     dig     himself     so     deep     into     a     hole     he     can't     even     see     the     snow     tips     anymore     anyway.           he     looks     her     in     the     eyes,      drowns     in     the     pools     of     unimpressed     nature     and     territories     her     judgement     with     the     guise     of     a     sheep     to     the     slaughter,      returns     his     gaze     to     her     shoulder.           “     next     month.      we'll     go     to     shitty     shops     and     i'll     say     you     look     fat     in     everything     and     you'll     tell     me     I'm     the     dumbest     motherfucker     on     the     planet.      it'll     be     fun.     ”

there's     effort,      a     give     and     take,      heaving     through     his     ribs     and     coming     out     as     something     akin     to     josh     before     all     the     stuff     of     horror     movies     became     a     soul     crushing     reality.      only     he's     still     staring     at     that     damn     shoulder---

“     did     I     bite     you     ?     ”           genuine,      accusatory,      his     knees     knock     together     with     how     he     turns     to     her,           “     I     don't     remember.     ”

[resorceful]

Sometimes she has dreams of the wound festering; stepping out of the shower and looking at herself in the mirror only to find something else there—something all teeth, blood, rot—and a hunger in her belly that feels too big for her body.

Her shoulder doesn't ache when it rains, just when it snows.

“My parents don't know what to do with me either,” Emily scoffs. Someone kinder would remind Josh his parents have already lost two children, and would do whatever it takes to make sure they don't lose a third. It's a shame Emily learnt kindness backwards; that is, she learnt how to be unkind first. “This is probably more than they bargained for.” Nobody and nothing—not her parents, not the world—know what to do with her now.

Next month, Josh says, and Emily laughs. At the optimism of it, the uncertain certainty, at Josh. “If you call me fat, I'm doing much worse than calling you a dumb motherfucker.” To demonstrate, she kicks him under the table, boot-tip to shin. “I would not trust you with any of the bags by the way, so no, shopping is off the table. A movie would be better. I am in desperate need of entertainment.”

She rolls her shoulders to ease some of the stiffness there, less an act, less a provocation, more an unconscious gesture. The question catches her off-guard. “Did you bite me?” She parrots with disbelief. He looks serious. She purses her lips, something like you didn't, but your sister did, on the tip of her tongue, before she chokes it back down. “Did your fucking brain get scrambled or something? I wouldn't be sitting here if you bit me. Dumbass.”

[2kiras]

Autumn     had     begun     to     drizzle     itself     over     the     landscape     on     campus,      leaves     only     just     now     beginning     to     turn     auburn     and     brown     and     the     wind     picking     up     in     little     bursts     that     made     the     tip     of     your     nose     a     slight     pink     and     the     old     jackets     pulled     from     the     depths     of     your     summer     -     overtaken     closet     not     enough     anymore.           the     pair     were     sole     and     quiet           (     …     )           near     to     a     funeral     in     how     they     sat     with     both     a     great     big     ribbon     wrapping     their     elbows     in     sync     and     a     million     miles     shoved     into     the     inches     of     space     between     their     hips.           chris     found     himself     with     a     dilemma     sitting     pretty,      pointed,      and     punctual     in     his     jeans     clad     lap     that     he     had     never     even     begun     to     think     of     being     a     possibility           ;           is     this     still     pretty,      or     does     the     memory     of     red     snow     and     screaming     fire     sour     it     too     much     ?

truthfully,      he     hadn't     realized     he     had     even     spoken     until     emily     was     barking     her     orders     and     reality     was     slamming     back     into     him     with     the     force     of     a     semi     truck     with     an     anxious     driver,           but     upon     lifting     his     head     and     sitting     up     on     the     old,      squeaking     park     bench,      he     could     feel     the     familiarity     of     their     dynamic     seeping     through     the     cracks     of     a     haphazard     brick     wall     he     didn't     remember     building.      guilt.      he     felt     it     next,      barreling     through     an     intersection     and     all     eight     wheels     skidding     against     the     ice.

“     shit--      sorry.     ”           he     mumbles,      kicks     himself     in     the     shin     with     an     opposing     boot,      tries     desperately     to     grasp     at     the     cliff     above     him     that     holds     all     the     answers     to     what     they     were     talking     about     previously.           “     uh,      god           (     …     )           which     state     has     the     most     streets     ?     ”

he     knows     she     wont     laugh,      but     chris     looks     at     her     expectantly     anyway,      conscious     of     the     way     his     shoulders     shift     in     an     attempt     to     properly     display     his     attention     once     again     returning     to     her           ;           he     knew     she     liked     that,      having     the     spotlight     and     the     respect     that     comes     with     its     shining     brilliance     and     perky     attendance.      another     wave     washes     over     him     and     like     the     ocean     drags     sand     to     the     sea     floor,      half     of     his     attention     drifts     into     the     barrel     of     a     gun     and     mike's     shaking,      missing     hands.           “      its--      it's     rhode     island.     ”

[resorceful]

Rhode Island, and everyone claps. Except for Emily, who sits there looking bemused, waiting a moment for more, before realising that's all Chris has for her. She gives him a pity snort, something on the way to a laugh, but not quite there yet. It's hard to remember now how she used to respond to his jokes. When was the last time she laughed? She can't remember that either.

“That was pathetic, Hartley.” She sighs with fake disappointment, putting on an act suddenly, and for what? For him? The idea of it rankles. She doesn't owe him anything. “D minus. Next time come up with something better, or else you fail and you're never seeing me again.” And suddenly it's a game, one she imagines he won't care for winning, but for a second, she entertains the notion that this might be something he would fight for.

She frowns to herself. It's getting disgusting, how the anxiety writhes under her skin, tangling itself up in her gut, across her ribcage, over her heart. She used to be so sure of herself when all her friends were alive. Now there's just one left—one Chris-shaped mound of dirt between her and being truly alone.

She looks at him again. She can't tell if he's paying attention. Maybe part of him's still stuck in that cabin, with Ashley. Sometimes she thinks about what almost came to be, what never was, and if she was luckier for losing something she already had, or if he was luckier for losing something he never got. She taps a finger against the lens of his glasses. “You need to wipe these.”

[jackienautism]

[resorceful]

If there is a single person Emily cannot bring herself to get angry at, it's Josh. Oh there's plenty blame to pass around, and she's taken her jacket off today just so he'll have no choice but to look at the scar on her shoulder, just so he'll be reminded she didn't survive unscathed—but she can't bring herself to get mean. To get cruel. He looks so much like Beth and Hannah it makes her sick.

Emily understands revenge, see. She understands rage. Josh had a vengeful streak in him, and a rightful, vindictive anger that he let simmer for a year, just to let it all out on that one night. Maybe nobody else gets it, but she does. So no, she can't bring herself to fight against his knife-sharp grief, but she can't bring herself to not hate him a little bit either.

Hate's so much harder to let go of than it is to embrace. He should know this too.

Josh mumbles: I'm not happy here. And I don't think you are either. @2kiras

The world feels more alien than it used to be, Emily thinks. Or perhaps she's the alien now, something not altogether right anymore, a new version of herself unable to fit into the same old boxes. She hates too, how it seems no one else understands this but Josh. “If you're about to suggest something moronic and cliché like we should run away together, I'll punch you.” She makes this threat around the rim of her mug, shooting him an unimpressed look. “But it's not like anyone's gonna miss us,” she adds on after a sip of too-bitter coffee. She thinks of the threads connecting her to everyone fraying, how Matt's probably happier without her, how Mike tried to kill her then tried to forget her, how she still can't be in the same room as Ashley without wanting to sink her sharp nails into her throat and tear.

“Fuck it.” She places her mug down on the table a little too hard. Coffee sloshes out the sides. She stares Josh down. “You're taking me to Paris.”

[resorceful]

Civility rests uneasily on Emily's shoulders, always teetering, always on the edge of slipping off. The little voice in her head that sounds like Sam says: have a little patience. Emily wants to shout back, I don't take advice from ghosts, but digs her nails into her leg to tamp her irritability down anyway.

The thing is, seeing Chris is like being put back on that mountain, being back in that basement watching him as he watches Mike level the gun at her head and saying nothing. She licks the back of her teeth, frustration on the cusp of boiling over. Chris would've liked that, wouldn't he? Seeing her brains blown out? Quiet, for once. If he could've picked who came out the other end with him, she's sure she would've been last on the list.

It's a shame nobody ever gets what they want.

Chris sighs: This is too big for us. @2kiras

She shuts her eyes and presses a finger against her temple, feigning a headache. “No,” she says emphatically. “We're not doing serious and weepy today.” It's not denial if she's just ignoring it, no matter what her parents or her counsellor or fucking Chris has to say about it. Emily knows it happened, Emily isn't denying it happened, she just doesn't want to talk about it. “I want to laugh.” She cracks an eye open to look at Chris. “Tell me a joke.”

[resorceful]

thinking about emilymike having two out of three of the same traits... them dating because they're alike, only to then breakup for the exact same reason. i think mike could see the writing on the wall but emily was a little too clouded by her love for mike to realise where their relationship was heading. in my head mike checked out early/first, which is one of the reasons why emily is so hostile towards mikejess. obvi it's the betrayal first and foremost, but it's also the fact that emily wasn't actually ready to let go of mike yet when they broke up, then add onto that her bruised pride and ego (which is absolutely most of the reason why she got with matt. could not stand mike having moved on so quickly without her).

just an absolutely disastrous combination, but i do think at the core of it, emily and mike are very similar and when they get along they can really get along. if they both survive i think if mike grovelled enough he'd eventually earn emily's forgiveness, but i don't think mike would grovel, unless he was still in love w her (and i don't think he is), so they're probably doomed no matter what :p

[resorceful]

Emily Davis-Okada + Janet Fitch's White Oleander

Pictures used: 1, 2

[resorceful]

Emily spits the blood out of her mouth. She stares at the red unblinkingly. If only it could be that easy with the blood on her hands. The words, for a moment, register as nothing but buzzing. White noise. She looks up from where she's bent over the asphalt, staring until the words sink in.

From Chishiya: Nothing like a little pain to remind you you're alive.

“Oohhhhhhhhh.” She stretches the word out, voice mocking. “Wow. Inspiring words from Mr. Masochism. Thank you so very much.” She's shaking, so the scathing tone maybe lacks some of its usual bite. Emily doesn't know how else to cover up for vulnerability except to place a sword between her teeth. Always so much easier to be sharp than to be soft. “Fuck.”

Her head is throbbing and her knees are starting to ache. “Life used to be so normal.” Hannah and Beth used to be alive, too. Her stomach churns, there's acid in the back of her throat. “You remember normal?”

@chishiye

[loathsomedogs]

‘   Maybe you have,   ’     he agrees absently,     ‘   She’s a kinder woman,   anyway.   ’     His distaste bypasses her spit bubble.     Landing promptly,   instead,   in the square-tooth implication that he enjoys being unseen.     A meaner Emily would’ve stood at the doorway,   and merely watched as his mouth fumbled between apathy and anger.     Furrowed brow over sharp-gleamed eye.     The truly obscured would’ve slunk away,   without a spare second of notice.     You,   dug-out scab.     Instead:     ‘   Makes me feel cherry-picked.     Special.   ’     Citrus buttercream softened by vanilla and honey.     Nicer.     [FOR NOW.]     He strides over to a corner cabinet,   like he owns the place,   and pulls out a couple of glasses.     ‘   Would this Emily care to place her order of drink?   ’

[resorceful]

Emily laughs. It's surprisingly genuine. She has enough that she's able to categorise them now—fake laughs, bitter ones, some hostile, some overly saccharine, only a rare few real enough to come out like an accident. It's not immediately evident what's funny about this—the gum in her mouth, the chill in the air, his presence in this space dark like a shadow—maybe she's funny Emily tonight too.

“Oh, letting the lady choose. How kind, how chivalrous. Guess you're playing a gentleman tonight, then.” She taps a nail against her chin, a painted blue dark enough it's almost black, but not quite. It's all an act anyway, she knows exactly what's there, exactly what she wants. “I'll take the good stuff. White wine.” She snaps her fingers, urging him with another laugh hanging off the edge of her lips. She doesn't know what's funny about this either, now she just feels like laughing. “If you're joining me, you don't get to complain about that either.”

[loathsomedogs]

Embodying the full-glass emotion doesn’t befit your features and,   thus,   your afterglow is peripheral.     A base-heavy beaker casts spectral remnants of your delight.     Your right-hand brow—the one curved away from Emily’s view—quirks at where the retorted emphasis lies.     ‘   The mirror never lies.     Right?   ’     A reflection or the reflection?     On both accounts,   you can only find the truth,   after finally looking up,   in the gossamer gloss of a dilated pupil.     I can hear you,   even if you cannot hear me.     Talia turns slowly,   weighed down by the contemplative,   and looks upon the peeled-tooth smile.     Somewhere in the motion,   she plucks a perfume bottle from her desk.     ‘   Shall I rephrase?     You smell flagrantly tart.   ’     The bottle lifts and shakes between your fingers.     Your own blinking cat-eye smile.     ‘   If you’re going to abide by colour theory,   you should try smelling like a true spring too.   ’

[resorceful]

The mirror never lies. It's true. Her reflection never flickers, she forever remains Emily Davis-Okada. It's rarely ever a good thing, rarely ever a relief. Maybe Sam would've been better. Kinder, nicer, gooder. Hannah would've been more deserving though, wouldn't it?

God, this day continues to suck.

The barb almost makes her feel something. A dormant kind of rage she's suppressed for too long flickering to life briefly. High School Emily would've hissed. Today she leans over and eyes the perfume bottle, lips twisted into something that could be considered friendly on someone else's face. “Yeah, I don't wear cheap shit like that.” She leans back, waves her hand carelessly. “Not surprised you don't recognise Clive Christian,” she says, to the tune of: you plebeian.

“Got any worse than that? Or is you stink the best you got?”

[resorceful]

wicked au.

all the interpersonal drama would be canon, just without the death aspect: emily was dating mike. hannah had an unfortunately obvious crush on him that led to jess coming up with a prank to play on her (faking a letter written from mike to hannah, asking her to meet him somewhere private). emily was 100% on board with it ofc, and managed to get their other friends involved too (with the exception of sam, who thought the whole thing was cruel). they go through with the prank, sam unable to stop it from happening, and they humiliate hannah in front of the boy she liked as well as all her friends. nobody dies, but the friend group does splinter apart. mike and emily breakup (emily will say it was mutual and she was not dumped but it's very clear that while mike's feelings for her had waned, it was not the case for emily). mike starts dating jess, emily's ex best friend. emily dates matt (an obvious rebound, and a relationship with a clear expiration date). they're never seen together as a group ever again.

emily is still the same mean, self-possessed person she's always been. people put up with it because a) she has some amount of influence, given her rich parents. b) she writes for the shiz gazette (specifically a fashion column that she established in the paper with her parents' money) and you do not want to be listed as this week's fashion disaster (she's singled jess out multiple times just out of pure spite). fashion superstar on the other hand has of course gone to emily herself a couple times, but mostly galinda is the reigning champ.

now emily's been more or less absorbed into the galindasquad. she doesn't exactly worship galinda, but she does like her, and most of all she likes to talk shit with pfannee and shenshen so it all works out<3.

i'm not sure if fashion magazines exist in this universe, but if they don't then emily will absolutely start her own. the magazine would probably be called something like glamouroz or ozstyle and emily would be the editor-in-chief. i'm not sure how much influence the magazine would have on the landscape of the wickedpolitics because it's specifically about fashion, but i think it's inevitable some propaganda would slip through during interviews n such. emily would try to keep it as neutral as possible though, 'cause frankly she doesn't care and the more people she appeals to (no matter what political leanings they have) the better.

as for her personal stance on the wickedpolitics, unfortunately she's rich and privileged enough to not care about any of it :/ buuuut i will say that post hannah prank she gains a little more empathy for other people, so she would definitely feel terrible about what she sees happening with dr. dillamond. absolutely not enough to actually attempt to do anything about it, but she knows it's wrong, which is something, at least? cause here's the thing. emily might not respect a lot of the people she's supposedly friends with (might actively think they're stupid and that they're inferior to her in some way. you see this a lot with the things she says to jess and the way she belittles matt), but she's still friends with them. she'd question a lot of the information she's being presented with (might even challenge it a little) but only in her head, never out loud. unless you really press her, in which case she might divulge a doubt or two... a suspicion or three... but you really wouldn't be able to convince her to do anything about it.

[resorceful]

You don't seem surprised, @loathsomedogs [Nick].

The heart of it is an assumption, right? He assumes her surprise, or he wants it. Emily likes being contradictory, or she just likes the rebuttal. She's never anything or anyone people want her to be. Either more or less than they expect. Whichever it is, it's never a good thing.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” She rolls her eyes. She's chewing gum, almost flavourless now with how long it's been between her teeth. She blows out a breath in his direction, fresh peppermint. She wonders if he'll make a face. “Maybe I've gotten rid of surprise. Doesn't even crack top five on the list of feelings. For now you get apathetic Emily and you don't get to complain.”

[resorceful]

You smell of winter, @loathsomedogs [Talia].

The thought of it clinging—the snow from Blackwood, the cold of February, the ash of the dead—makes her nauseous. She flattens her tongue against the roof her mouth, drumming her sharp nails against her leg. Winter, and she thinks of innocence. Winter, and she thinks of rot.

You smell of winter. Emily doesn't think it's a compliment. “Anyone ever told you that you should keep useless thoughts to yourself?” She scoffs, dismissive. Her default. Can Talia sniff out the guilt, too? “Or, what, are you gonna tell me how I look, next?” She pulls her lips back into a smile, flashing her white teeth like lightning warning of a thunderstorm. “'Cause I've looked into a mirror. I don't need you to describe anything for me.”

[notmorbid]

deadly animals.

dialogue prompts from deadly animals by marie tierney.

you smell of winter.

talking to you always makes me feel better.

it helps that i really like looking at you.

people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

don't flood us crying. i'm shit at swimming.

i'm always nice.

i hate when ____ looks at you like that.

who can we tell, if we can't tell ____?

does it make me a bad person to be glad ____ is gone?

i understand loyalty, but i understand self-preservation more.

you aren't a fan of children?

the exception to the rule is not the rule.

i'm just happy to look at you.

sometimes the apple falls miles from the tree.

_____ won't notice i'm gone.

i don't want to make you uncomfortable.

the male gaze carries weight. it can be felt everywhere it bounces and lingers.

i'm alright. have to be, don't i?

why are you being nice? people aren't nice, usually.

'nice' is not a word i would use to describe ____.

you don't seem surprised.

cruel shit happens everywhere.

good pups become bad dogs, if you're cruel to them.

this is too big for us.

don't send me back to bed without a cuddle.

doing good is very different from doing right.

it would be so easy to like you, but i don't want to.

you can't unsee what you see.

how do you know so much about ____?

you're older than you look on tv.

you're not alone. remember that.

i think i'll always miss it, in my way.

it's always shit that hits the fan, never chocolate.

how did you get those scars, if you don't mind me asking?

good manners are my weakness.

i come here to think.

does it still hurt?

how'd you get that bruise?

secrets are bad for children. they know how to keep them.

when we understand too much, we start making excuses.

human evil has nothing to do with satan and sinning.

i know you love me, in your way.

i have to be careful. i'm prone to jumping to conclusions.

it's hard to see the worst in someone who always shows you their best.

comfortably numb. like my favorite song.

i did so many things wrong, thinking i was doing right.

you want to blame me. you can, if you want.

you take whatever lessons you can learn from horror, and you move forward. there is no choice.

past trauma is like a predator: it waits until you're your most vulnerable, or your most happy, and then it pounces.

the reason why bad men do bad things is because they want to.

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 22

this isn’t who you are.

it’s hard to recognize hope, even when it’s right in front of us.

sounds like a terrible idea. i’m in. 

you, like, awakened something in me.

that girl’s like hanging out with a funeral.

places are easy to leave. it’s the people that are hard to leave behind.

i won’t prove them right. i won’t be the monster they think i am.

it feels like you’re kind of out of sync in your life.

it’s mushy, i don’t like it.

does anyone think about me as much as i think about them?

i know i feel too much. but isn’t that good, too? because i would do anything for the people that i love.

told you i’d survive.

love is a lot of things. safe isn’t one of them.

indifference is the best revenge.

sometimes i come here to cry.

maybe next time you just need to kiss someone who wants to kiss you back.

what if all your dreams come true and it’s still not enough?

god, i love the smell of air conditioning.

i wish i was like you. i wish i could just be a stone cold bitch and not care.

i matter. i should matter to you.

i didn’t make you anything that wasn’t in there already.

don’t you see? this is life or death.

you make my life worse. you make me worse. you’re the thing that i do when i want to hate myself.

all you do is lie to me.

this is why you broke up with me. i’m a crazy person.

once someone leaves, that’s it. that’s who they are.

not many people wanna be my friend right now. i’m not very popular.

i don’t know who i am without you. you changed my life, my life became about you.

i’m strong. i’ve had to get really strong.

kinda nice to know there’s a little bit of crazy going on around here that doesn’t involve us.

that’s what us lesbians do. we just stare at each other and nothing ever happens and we think about it forever.

i do not trust happiness. 

you know, i’ve been pretty independent my whole life.

you’re not the one i need to hear ‘sorry’ from.

it’s okay to fall apart a little.

your feelings can be a lot sometimes.

you are giving me panic attacks. what are you still doing here?

i could use a break from keeping you alive.

we are some shitty best friends.

you turn the page, and you don’t look back. you do better today than you did yesterday.

do you think we’ll ever be able to trust each other again?

i was the original leaver. i just came back.

he makes you feel bad about yourself, why would you spend any time with him?

the only person who doesn’t know how beautiful you are is you.

you know how i can come across as a weird asshole sometimes?

you’ve become more questions than answers for me.

you are the calmest thing i know.

why don’t you want happiness?

i’m your only friend.

you know, it just feels like we should be fucking.

also, you look really hot, by the way. 

you just seem so unapologetically you. like, in every way. where does that come from?

when i’m with you, i don’t feel sick to my stomach.

how do you do that? say out loud what i’m thinking? 

don’t ruin your life by being passive aggressive.

it’s like you’re lost.

you can’t rewrite the past.

i’m not happy here. and i don’t think you are, either.

now that i’ve met you, now that i know what it feels like to be in love with you, i cannot see spending the rest of my life with anyone else.

what do you do except follow me around?

you’re just drunk and you’re trying to hurt my feelings.

i always felt like nothing.

who needs food when you have love, right?

do you have any idea what it feels like to be in pain all day?

you’re clinging to me to make yourself feel better.

because of you, i finally know what it’s like to really want something, but it can’t just be you.

if we don’t break up now, i will continue to make you my whole world.

you better make us breaking up worth it. if you’re not gonna fight for us, at least fight for you.

if it weren’t for you, i’d still be locked in a life that wasn’t mine.

maybe we’ll be ready for each other in 10 years. 

next time you see me, it won’t be as friends.

you were hurting, and you lashed out, because that’s what you do.

i was so angry at you for leaving. i don’t want to feel like that anymore.

you want your revenge? or you want your people to live?

look at you. fighting is all you know.

i promise, i won’t slow you down. i’ll just keep you company.

you haven’t been happy about anything in a long time.

doing the right thing can kiss my ass.

nothing like a little pain to remind you you’re alive.

i didn’t bail on you. i came back.

i do hard things so you don’t have to. i know i’m a monster.

you turned me into the worst possible version of myself. 

the next time i see you, i’ll kill you. and that’s a promise.

i know you think you don’t deserve this, but you’re wrong.

i want you to get everything that you want.

i think i love you too. i tried to fight it. because, hello.

i thought about dying. like a lot. like, “okay, at least there’s that option.”

you overstep until people suffocate.

you are only ever going to hurt me.

you know who i am. i’m you. remember?

danger is supposed to come with warning signs.

i don’t like you nervous. it’s unsettling.

look, it’s you. it’s always gonna be you. and i know you love me too.

i know you better than anyone. you want all this, not me.

so that’s what we do now, we just run away when things get scary. 

i don’t wanna run anymore. i just wanna be okay.