gooseberryhigh | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[Ursula]

I have three questions:
Who?
Why?
Same question as above, but with more emphasis.

If you don't have the answers, make up acceptable ones.

[Sy, added later]

On a scale of one to would put me up for a blind date, how damaged is your brain these days?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don't tell me you don't actually favor cats because cats are rude.

So what you're saying is the form came from someone who knows me very well.

Are you saying you wouldn't run someone over with a car and set their prized possessions on fire if you were unexpectedly dumped.

I'm afraid I've been bamboozled.

I honestly can't blame you. These don't sound entirely out of character for me.

Now I just need to narrow it down to people whose possessions I've burned.

Cross-reference with the list of people certain to call you pedantic about being unable to rate romance on a negative scale.

[...] It's not really so bad, is it?

[...] I'm asking Sy if the brain damage finally caught up with him.

I was dared to have a terrible time. So now I have to have a terrible time.

~~It's sweet, don't you think? He's concerned about you since your break up~~ [...] Highly possible. Did he take any bludgers to the head this weekend?

I can't think of anyone you could possibly have a more terrible time with.

Not at the game, but I hit him over the head with enough big words about chronic brain trauma to do the trick.

I need to dig out the tallest heels I own. Then I can be in constant pain while simultaneously reminding him of his below average height.

I wholeheartedly believe in your ability to wipe that smug look off his stupid face by the end of the evening.

If I can accomplish this one task, this might actually make it my favorite dance of the year.

[...] Aside from the guaranteed bad time.

Dude, if I'd done it, I would've written "not any fuckin dillweed in Coppertale" under your prefs.

And they never would have guessed it wasn't me.

Yeah, so look at your pals in your own house. They're the sneaky ones.

Want me to threaten to punch people until they talk?

Well that'll just get us a bunch of false confessions and tears, and that's a whole new headache for me to handle.

Besides, I've probably only threatened to burn their belongings twice, maybe three times since we've been here. Hardly enough for them to think that's a defining character trait of mine.

Shit. Whoever filled out that form for you really got you spot on.

And they're willing to use this knowledge for evil.

I mean, if they really fuckin hated you, they would've gotten you a nice date.

Seriously. You're going?

Someone who likes me, but isn't afraid to insult me with the truth. You can see why the list of suspects is so small.

I currently have no intentions of being the one to back down.

I mean, it wasn't me, so [.....] Aw, fuck.

For fucksakes, Rosemary. Whatever. Just tell him if he runs his mouth about you after, I'll kick his ass.

Did you enter a fugue state where you were concerned about my love life?

Okay but it'll be funnier if it catches him off guard.

Last week Freddy was asking me shit like what my birthday and zodiac sign were. He said he was just doing like Astronomy homework?

Shit, can't argue with that. Wear the steel stilettos in case he asks you to dance.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Should I be more offended that he doesn't know our birthday, or that he thinks I need help managing the high school social scene?

You know, I think those are like 4.5 inches, too. I was hoping to be an even six feet, but maybe I can make up the difference with hair and making everyone around me feel small and insignificant.

I mean, this is the first time he's seen you in high school. Maybe the only reason the rest of us aren't worried is cause we're used to it.

~~Mom would be proud~~ Pretty sure that's what Notoriano's trying to do with that hair of his. Shit, the stars were right.

~~What is there to even worry ab~~ I'm making him meddle in your life next, I can fuck mine up perfectly well on my own.

Is that your blessing, Sylvester? When you give the toast at our wedding, are you going to be wishing us a lifetime of successfully projecting our feelings of inferiority on others?

I mean, he's already got that goddamn crush on Nisha. The fuck is wrong with both of you? Don't you know any cute assholes not on my team or in my cabin?

First of all, you don't give a shit about my blessing. Second, [...] I mean, shit, you wanna go on this date, what the fuck can I say? "Have fun"?

First of all, Freddy's crush is cute and dumb and I hope every crush he ever has is inconvenient for you. Second of all, I didn't even sign up for this date, don't act like I'm looking at a list of eligible bachelors in your vicinity and weighing my options.

Your blessing of "fun" means the world to me, and I will carry it in my heart for the entirety of this absolutely terrible dance.

Oh, come on. You know that's not what I meant.

Shit, fine. Have fun. Verbally rip him a new one, hurt your feet from dancing, get glitter all over you. Notoriano better be cool and not an asshole.

And you know this school is woefully short on cute assholes not on your team or in your cabin.

I don't think that last sentence is actually possible, but miracles happen. Maybe he'll lose his voice.

Uhuh. If we ever do mud wrestling again, I'll be sure to invite you.

I'm telling you, just dig your heel into his foot every time he talks. You gotta train him early.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(no subject)

Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Rosy/Ursula

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers

Stokers