I stopped shaving my legs every other day
I stopped only eating citras and drinking a gallon of water a day
I started smoking weed with my friends
I stopped bringing my phone with me to Temple, to coffee houses, to record stores, to concerts
I stopped ignoring my family and started baking cookies and pancakes with bananas and nuts and apples
I’ve made 32 pancakes since Friday,
I’ve burnt 13 but I’m getting there
I won’t let you burn me anymore I’m so fucking sick of flames
Turns out I don’t get off on pain
I don’t get off on being treated like a toy
I do not enjoy having a collection of sticky notes covered in conversation topics because you never held up your end
It’s true that one person always loves more but the other side needs to give something
You knew this would happen I have to go for my own self respect
I should’ve known when you stopped sending good morning texts
Or when your texts didn’t come at all until
late at night
When your words were always about sex
Maybe I should have turned my phone off or blocked your number when you told me about the first girl
Or the second or the third
But I thought you were worth it that I’d never find a better guy
You always listened you respected my boundaries
It’s probably easy when you have six other girls who will give you what I protect
I’m not picking up this time
I’m not checking your timeline I’m not listening to your music
I’m not dying my hair your favorite color or getting a tattoo
You don’t deserve my kind of love
Not from me,
You deserve a quiet love that won’t take up too much time
You killed me over and over again
You wasted and
disrespected me without even noticing
My heart has been replaced with beetles and old peach pits but soon
You won’t live there anymore to poison my wood
Flowers will bloom in my brain once again
Watered by my own love and confidence
Planted by me for me
You will never see them
Lilacs and roses were my favorite before you
Fuck your daisies you’re the one who cut them down
okay but how much do you wanna bet lance is super into popping pimples. like.. he always offers to pop keiths and keiths always like ‘wtf no u sicko???’ and then lance will spend his free time on youtube watching dr pimple popper videos and trying to show keith
lance: ah you see that keith?? thats the money shot right there
Context: I’m currently playing in a pathfinder game, run by a friend, as an investigator and just unlocked the “Run Like Hell” feat, which lets me burn my investigators luck counters to get extra movement speed.
when we left off from the previous campaign, the party had just come across a town besiged by goblins. the goblins were now charging out of the city at us.
DM: Ok, so what are you guys planning to do?
Me: i’m gonna hop on Alejandro (our sentient horse companion)
DM: Ok, since you’ve never riden him before, im just gonna say he can move as if it was you with a base move of 70, and if you ride into anything directly in front of you, you auto kill it
Me: *stares* …Can I still use my feats while im riding?
DM: Uh, sure?
Me: Cool, how far out is the closest goblin?
(the goblins were placed in an advancing line about 90 ft out. There were 6 goblins total. the line they were standing in was 30 ft wide)
Me: *thinks* Alright, cool, I’m gonna burn 3 luck counters to add 60 ft to my move speed.
DM: Wait what?
Me: *Proceeds to charge at and auto kill every goblin within one turn of movement*
DM: *stares* Good news guys the siege is over!
The rest of the game was just me on the horse and the party strategically walking single file behind me to insta-kill anything that moved. Needless to say we got through the day’s playing a lot quicker than previous times.
“please remind me how we got into this position again, alexander?”
the last of the late sunset was spilling through the broken windows of this warehouse. it was streaming over magnus’s face, the warm glow cutting across his jaw and turning his eyes that molten brown it always did. around them this place was decaying. it smelled like blood and mold, the floor split in front of them, moss and plants spilling out the edges and up the walls. it was rank kind of damp, now run through with the smell of death. despite that the thrum of magic in magnus’s body was steady, curling little flames of blue around his fingers that trailed up his arms just slightly. beside him alec shifted, taut bow string shifting as alec surveyed the room. magnus’s lips curved up slightly at the pointed silence.
Fantastic Beasts screenplay:
Graves holds a finger to his lips, signaling for Tina to be silent. The gesture is PATRONIZING, but authoritative. Tina looks kowtowed—she obeys, stepping back into the shadows.
Rogue One novel:
"The shield is up," the man in white snarled. He was burying his fear, his fear of her, beneath PATRONIZING disdain and venom. "Your signal will never reach the rebel base."