ɹɐ!ן ɹɐ!ן

@fullslide / fullslide.tumblr.com

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     hey everyone lets talk about how its okay for a guy to not be constantly objectifying women and how that social stereotype is a load of actual bullshit lets have a discussion about how its OKAY for a guy to think a girl is pretty without imagining her naked lets talk about how its ridiculous that a guy cant compliment a girl without being called an objectifying pig l ETS TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE I HAVE SOME THINGS TO SAY

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                 ”Are you serious? They never tell                    anyone anything until after we’re                    all out here in our towels or boxers.”
Of course she’s going to try to play off the fact that he’s probably more clothed than she is. No, she doesn’t want to think about the fact that these are her first words to the cute guy down the hall. She’s just going to pretend it’s a normal night. 
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      ❛ I'm cool with the room dude.   Hey,            hold on a sec--- lemme help ya out. 

        Wanders off to con some unsuspecting            freshman out of his sweater and returns            successful. Al holds it out to her. 

     ❛ 's like sixty out here and you ain't            wearin' anything. Here. 

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                                    ❛   cot?   ❜
                  charles has to resist the extremely perplexed strain that threatens his features,                   as if the word itself causes him physical pain.  his eyes flicker from the man to                   his belongings and back, and he shakes his head, continuing quietly.
            ❛   we have beds, the next best thing, i suppose?  a room, even.  i don’t                  understand why you were so set and ready to settle for a cot, or why                  you’d assume that we’d even have them… –––––– mr. alan.  or…                  if you prefer, al?  ❜
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         ❛ Figured this was like—— a shelter 'r                somethin'.   Government wantin' a piece                just like everyone else.       Nobody's all                about  handin'  stuff  out  t' guys like  me. 

           He stayed in a shelter  for a few months               after prison,  when he'd run  out of   funds               and was too afraid to call his parents. He               spent a lot of time alone,  sitting on a pile               of  blankets or  someone else's  used cot.               People  gravitated  away  from him,  and               even the ones that approached---      they               weren't          giving       any       handouts.

        ❛ ’s Al.  

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     ❝ thanks,it’s much appreciated. ❞       perhaps  she  could  have sounded  a  bit more      meaningful,  however his lack of sincerity was      failing  much  more  than  hers right  then.  the      blonde crossed her arms after a  while, sighing      as the  pair let  an  awkward  silence  surround      them until she had had enough.      ❝ i’m gwen, by the way. ❞
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        He's content to sit here in silence. This is            something he's exceptionally good at----            ignoring others and simply wallowing in his            outer loathing and inner pity.    It sounds far            more poetic than it looks. He's petulant and            there's     nothing       extravagant        there. 

     ❛ Al. Sorry, 'r whatever. 'bout the napkin thing. 

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              ❛      I´ve never had espresso before,                    but i´m gonna drink it for the sake of                   being fully wake all the damn night.❜                           
                          She would roll her eyes at the thought                            of being up late doing something so                                     boring and pointless like homework.
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        ❛ Shit, you're in for a wild fuckin' ride, kiddo.                Two-fifty for it. 

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" not who. "
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not exactly                                              . logan wasn’t here to force him to join her, or even meet charles but, if she deemed him to be a threat to the delicate balance of the school, she would just tell chuck                             she couldn’t find him.
a lie             seeing as how she could find anyone.
                       ” cerebro did. “

        Sounds like a drug cartel.

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     ❛ Sounds like a drug cartel.           ------The fuck is it ? 

      Of course his  curiosity's  piqued.         He's thus far  been convinced he's         just one singular, barely lit blip on         the    grid    surrounded   by  other,         brighter,   much   more  important         b             l            i          p            s.

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                  the stranger’s voice is loud enough to draw him from inside, though with                   wandering thoughts came an advantage,    and charles knew prior to the                   man’s arrival some of what was in store.  he moves in a deliberately lou-                   d way, so as to not startle or disturb the bliss of a new discovery.
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            ❛   almost.  there isn’t royalty here, but i hope everyone treats                  you well enough.  ––––––––––––-  are you alright, then?   ❜
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    ❛ 'm fine

       Nervous energy is crawling up his spine, lifting          the  fine  hairs  on  the  back  of  his  neck  into  the          cradle of its static.           He twitches minutely and          cinches  a tighter  hold around  his  things,  flexing          bare     fingers  in  the  pliable  fabric  of  his  duffel. 

    ❛ Where's my---- cot, or whatever ?  

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          would a scientist outright do this?
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         ❛ Uh. 

           His hair is  standing on end;                his nerves have  shot to high                heaven  and  there's  nothing                he can do to stop the excess                static that's  slowly  crawling                its    way      up      his     arm.

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his escorts were instructed to wait outside.
          entering the coffee shop, his eyes fell hollow as he looked over           the scene, still quite bewildered by it all. but, he wanted more of           that tea they’d had before. coffee was a drink, from what he gathered,           so maybe they had tea as well. coming to the register, he stared at the young man who across from him, pointing to something on the menu plastered on the wall much  too far away to make it apparent as to what he wanted.
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          ❛ C'mon, man. Whadd'ya want ? 

            Al rubs his forehead and slaps                 a   hand   against   the   counter,                 fingers immediately drumming                 an          inconsistent      pattern.                 He      deals      with       stutters,                 loud-mouths,             dickheads,                 teenage girls----  but he's never                 had     to      deal      with      this. 

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