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@dissocianarchic-blog / dissocianarchic-blog.tumblr.com

(Let me tell you about)
Tyler Fucking Durden.
Soapmaker. Orchestrator of mayhem. Part-time minimum wage whore.
Your independent liberator and manic pixie fucking dream boy, pro bono. As long as you let your bullshit hang-ups slide, and trust me.
(21+. Selective. Read the flippin' rules. By Tess.)
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what she says: I'm fine
what she means: Robert Paulson, one of the actual sweetest men you will ever meet, lost his entire family and everything he ever worked for in his life, suffered a life-threatening illness, ended up with a deformity as a result that caused him to be chiefly treated as a joke even in the few social circles that somewhat accept him, and then died a cruel and pointless death moments after we see him feeling genuinely happy and accepted for the first time in years. Why the fuck is the universe out to get this man? Why isn't he appreciated more as a character? Why can't I just give him a hug and trY TO KEEP HIM SAFE AND MAKE EVERYTHING OKAY FOR HIM
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I honestly just wish I DID have Context. " Pardon my hand."

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Send “Pardon My Hand” For My Muse’s reaction to Your’s sneaking up behind them and slipping their hand between My Muse’s Legs..

[☢]She’s quick enough that the touch draws a little gasp out of him, just low enough to be inaudible. Blue eyes narrow with suspicion as he swivels around partway to look at the young woman questioningly, without exposing any more of himself to her.

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❝…What exactly is your hand looking for?❞ 

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❝The way things go?❞ Crossing his arms and narrowing his brow in amusement, he lets his eyes follow the almost hypnotizing glint bouncing off the corner of her glass as she raises it to her lips. ❝What are you, stalking me day in and out? And not even buying me any flowers? Or vodka, which, I hate to break it to you, isn’t really a new invention. Though the burning is quite nice.❞

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❝Hell, I’ve made my own a couple of times. Never incorporated cake, though. Or anything that whimsical. How many bullshit flavors does it come in, now? Last I heard, bacon was all the rage. Bunch of pigs drinking their own distilled blood.

“Stalking you? No no no no…Everytime someone throws a punch and draws blood or starts Discord in a basement, my ‘spidey-senses’ tingle. There’s nothing wrong with eating everything. Just as the world eats us. I consider it…becoming a parasite that consumes the host that ate it in the first place…or whatever.” She took another long drink, tilting her head in false innocence to taunt him with the obvious coveted liquor. 

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“Bacon is SO common now. It’s in everything…lozenges even. it used to be cranberries, and before that: pomegranate…and somewhere in between it was Acai berries. Everything gets mass produced and sold at gross quantities…all because ONE test group of aging hippies on a yoga mat or some fat bastard on a tractor declared that’s ‘all they eat.’ It’s more rebellious to eat it JUST because you like it, not because they shoved it in your face on magazine pull out…

What about bacon-cranberry-kale-egg-acai berry smoothies WITH vodka?”

❝That is, without a doubt, the most nauseating concept I’ve ever heard━━ today. Fortunately, you’d probably only have to taste it once or twice, before you’re too drunk for your senses to operate.❞

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❝Fucking kale. Christ. Fine, no skin off my back if you want to pretend leaves can taste good, but if you’re willing to spend a month’s rent on it, you’re a lost cause...❞

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“…Well the way things go for you now, I don’t think brushing or cake will be the demise of your mouth. Of course, you can always pick them off the floor or out of the knuckles of your last opponent and just CRAZY glue them back in.”
She gave him no rewarded expression, and just glanced at his teeth as he smiled, sitting upright then taking a slow sip of her bourbon. “Smart ass. Lucky for you, they invented booze that tastes JUST like cake. Twice the taste, twice the BURN.”

❝The way things go?❞ Crossing his arms and narrowing his brow in amusement, he lets his eyes follow the almost hypnotizing glint bouncing off the corner of her glass as she raises it to her lips. ❝What are you, stalking me day in and out? And not even buying me any flowers? Or vodka, which, I hate to break it to you, isn’t really a new invention. Though the burning is quite nice.❞

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❝Hell, I’ve made my own a couple of times. Never incorporated cake, though. Or anything that whimsical. How many bullshit flavors does it come in, now? Last I heard, bacon was all the rage. Bunch of pigs drinking their own distilled blood.

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Fluff Starters

  • “You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”
  • “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”
  • “You smell really nice.”
  • “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”
  • “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”
  • “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”
  • “Here, let’s share the blanket.”
  • “You’re comfy.”
  • “You are my new pillow.”
  • “You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”
  • “But I want to hear you sing.”
  • “We can talk over dinner.”
  • “Don’t be stubborn. Try it!”
  • “Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”
  • “Will you let me rub your back?”
  • “Care to give me a back scratch?”
  • “Star-gazing was a good idea.”
  • “You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight.”
  • “I’ll always be here for you.”
  • “I’ll be here to protect you.”
  • “I think I love you.”
  • “You are my love.”
  • “How about something warm? It will will help you sleep.”
  • “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
  • “Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.”
  • “It is not morning yet.”
  • “Shush and go back to bed.”
  • “I heard you talking in your sleep.”
  • “Your bed head is really cute.”
  • “We’ll do dishes together.”
  • “How about a kiss?”
  • “I love your hugs.”

A few were inspired by these.

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“ Fine, Can you manage spending an evening with me amoungst the fireworks? You love the chaos anyway. Live a little.”
Lydia took a drag and did a french inhale, mocking the man humorously.

[☢] For once in history, he’s the one lacking a cigarette in his hand, and compensates for it by childishly flicking out his tongue at the pale girl. ❝I thought you were the one who didn’t want to celebrate. But, yeah, I guess I could join you for a few hours. It won’t kill me.❞ His lower lip sticks out as he feigns a somewhat frightened look. ❝At least, probably not...❞  

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❝There will still be drinking, and if no one’s suffers at least third-degree burns during the show, I’ll denounce its entertainment value completely. These are my terms; they’re not all that strict.❞

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@lydiasdarkroom​

“You remind me of somebody I know. Always confident of your capabilities.”
Lydia replied in a cheeky manner.

❝This a somebody I’d know, too?❞ the man queries, looking genuinely curious as he props his chin up atop his folded hands. ❝Or should know? You didn’t give me much of a description to work with.❞

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@warriorsxheart​

❝I think they’re getting into the spirit before the booze come out and they get a bit more crazier…if you can imagine even that.❞ Sookie put her hands on her hips, observing the people in the bar. Some of them were pretty normal but there were familiar faces she saw underneath the messy white wigs and mini skirts. Never ever would you catch her in something like that. Just give her a red shirt and some blue jeans and she was good to go.

Following her gaze, the man chuckles lowly; nearly cackling, as he looks the flashy crowd over and nurses his mostly-drained glass in his hand.  ❝Just passing through, so I can’t imagine what the usual crowd’s like. But this━━ has some odd appeal. It’s sort of a beautiful trainwreck.

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He’s tried to make quite a show of not dragging out his star-dotted blue shirt and red jeans this evening, flaunting mostly black, even a matching jacket in place of his preferred red one. Well, at least tried to avoid the convention. He hardly gives a damn who notices...

❝Never thought anyone outside the city dressed up before fuckin’ Halloween.❞ His empty glass clinks softly as he sets it down on the counter. ❝Guess you always learn something new every day...❞ 

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Jagshemash Tumblr ! My name’uh is Borat, I like you, I like sex, it’s VARY NICE’A!

Independent role-play blog for Borat Sagdiyev featuring his travels in America and many more mysterious locations!

❀ Does not understand your cultural values well, please educate. ❀ Multi-verse, multi-fandom ; borat is not restricted to your world. ❀ Para/novella/script/one-liner your choice! ❀ More years of experience traveling than you. ❀ May offend you ! ( Juvenalian Satire ) ❀ 18+ Strongly suggested 

❀  Please read rules and about

                                   ❀  home ( autoplay ) |  rules   |   inbox   |   about  

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He sulks, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the concrete, “Fuck off.”

Chuckling dryly, the blond squeezes him around the waist with one arm, still supporting most of his weakened balance in the meantime. ❝Keep in mind, before you insist on that. I can either fuck you, or off, tonight. But I can’t do both.

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❝━━ Don’t yell at me. Christ. We’ll go put some ice on your fuckin’ face. Maybe I won’t fist you so hard, tonight. Y’know. Precautionary measures.❞

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❛there are certain moments where i consider you someone with brilliant ideas and a good future. this is not one of those moments.❜

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bad idea starters.

❝I━━ suppose that might sting a little bit, if I had any vague idea who you were. No, wait. Who’m I kidding? I wouldn’t care much, then, either.❞

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━━ though I’m inclined to ask which ones you liked.

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