#cliché

[a-ginlynn]

[a-ginlynn]

as you all [well] know…

[everysongends]

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[ladygagasecretdaughter]

I love how I’m just a cliché of a weird nerd from a 2000’s show right now

[ce-ayr-blog]

The Corridor - Friday Fictioneers

© Carol Carr Friday Fictioneers is a weekly challenge set by Rochelle Wisoff Fields to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find other stories here. Click here to hear the author read his words: The Corridor Well, this isn’t what I expected.Although, if I’m being honest, I’ve never really given it much thought.Hah, being honest, that’s a good one, something else I…

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[amfishwj]

Y'all find mental issues "hot" & "attractive" until you see a person that has REAL mental issues. Like,,, you thought i was joking when i said im violent? U think i was joking when i said I don't want to be fixed???

[pandabunnycallmeeither]

Tropes and clichés are the recipe to romcoms

       Tropes and clichés are always so common in romcoms. I suppose my first could have been one. It took us 9 years to tell each other. It took less a little than 1 to break up.         And yet, I don’t regret it. Any of it. We were two awkward fools bumbling around, something I still laugh at.        

        When we finally told each other (he offered to go to prom with me), I simply said yeah then stared out a window. We talked about a flickering light for a few minutes before I finally turned back.         “Does that count as saying something?”         “If you want it to.”         “Yeah, I do.”         Once we got over the barrier, it was nice. We recalled times we dropped hints and the other was too oblivious, or nervous, to say anything. His mom came back over and we promptly switched topics. I told my mom later that day. His found out a week later.         Our first date was when we first held hands. We sat next to each other on a bench. We had been doing the ol’ touch hands thing to the point our hands were literally on top of one another.         “I’m terrible at leaving things unsaid. Can we hold hands?”         “Yeah.”                 I was so happy with my big mouth that day.         August 23rd was when we made it official. We were walking, holding hands, crossing a small road.         “What are we?”                 “What do you want us to be?”         “Well… definitely more than friends. I dunno. What do you think?”         “I don’t care- wait. I do with this. Maybe, do you want… like, boyfriend girlfriend?”         “Yeah, I do.”         Another victory for my habit of blurting out.         His first dance was my junior Fall Dance. He met my friends, and kept me distracted when I got upset over my friend with her boyfriend (I didn’t like him at the time).         At one point him and I were sitting together on the floor and I looked up to see my friend kissing. He suggested us moving, and we did. We leaned against a different wall and I ranted about the boyfriend.         Then he kissed me on the cheek and I froze. He panicked, I kneeled over somewhat and just kept repeating myself.         “Holy shit.”         “Maybe I shouldn’t have-“         “Holy fuck.”         “Sorry I just fucked it up-“         “Holy fuck.”         Somehow we ended back up on the floor and talked each other down. While he panicked about scaring me (I wasn’t, just short-circuited at any form of flirting), I panicked thinking my parents wouldn’t be okay with me kissing (they were).         We talked it out though and decided we wanted to see anyway. We basically ended the night with a tiny kiss.         I broke up with him early August of the next year.