trols

Dün gece tam 1 milyonluk soruyu görüyordum yarışma trol yaptı bölümü bitirdi .d İşin kötü yanı sezon finaline denk gelmesi, şov biraz . Hayatta bele işte tam mutlu olucaksin sezon finali olayı devreye giriyor . Yine buna şükür final yapanlar var .d

not to sound like an old bitter ass hater but some of these promposals i’m seeing on twitter are outta con-fucking-trol like…. calm down greg it’s high school

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[Femslash February]: Matching Outfits

does anyone remember those times in like middle/high school where wearing the same outfit as someone else was considered social suicide? :P


Day 4: Matching Outfits (Chlonette)

Words: 2380

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

[Previous: Rescue] [Next: Stars]


The moment Alya walked into the school building, she felt a hand curl around her arm and yank her into a custodial closet. Not quite the start to her morning that she had expected. 

She was a little disoriented as a mop toppled onto her head, and it wasn’t until Nino clicked on the light hanging above their heads that she saw Adrien advance on her, grab her tightly by the shoulders, and speak in a grave tone. “Where is Marinette?”

She lifted a brow. “…um, home? She’s awake, but she shows up like five minutes before class since she lives right there.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know she’s awake,” Adrien dismissed. “Listen Alya, this is very important. I need you to call Marinette right now and tell her to change outfits immediately.”

Alya’s eyes darted towards Nino, but he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking like he was witnessing a serious interrogation with literal lives at stake. She stared back at Adrien, who was still fervently awaiting her reply. She huffed. “Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

“Alya, babe, tell Mari to change,” Nino said simply. “Apparently we’re attempting to avoid the end of the world, and it’ll make no sense for the two of us to call her and tell her this.”

“What does Marinette’s outfit have to do with the end of the world. Why are we….what the hell, guys?!”

Adrien lifted his finger in front of her face, pulled out his cellphone, scrolled through Instagram, and flipped the screen towards her. “Please observe Exhibit A.”

It was a picture of Marinette that she posted to Instagram this morning. Black knee high boots. White skirt. Black turtleneck. Pretty basic for a school outfit, nothing out of the ordinary. “Yeah, she takes morning selfies and puts then on Instagram all the time, what’s your point?”

Adrien sighed pitifully, switched screens, and showed her his phone again. Exhibit B.”

Alya squinted at the photo for a moment, and then her eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit…”

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Ya bu dünyada trol ile gerçeği karıştıranlar neden hala yaşıyo onlar çok üzüyor insanı altını çizerek bazı şeyleri belirtip TROL BU TROL demekten bıktım