Entry tags:
fuck marry kill

FUCK, MARRY, KILL
welcome to GAME NIGHT at DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. the game on the docket? FUCK, MARRY, KILL. the rules are simple: roll the game picker wheel three times or just pick three as you'd like, dropping the names in your header comment — icly we'll say they picked they names out of a hat. people respond, comment around, get into fist fights, kiss a little? thread hop and react as you see fit!
(meme threads can be considered canon!)

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[ even more bothersome, that he could be so fucking irritated with what bob is saying but caught in rapt awareness of what he's doing. the gently firm pressure at his shoulder has him instinctively pushing up, a suspiciously half-hearted attempt to escape. or for more. ]
I'm leaving. [ voice pitched low, so it only travels between them. ] To see Danny. He has something I want. Thanks for nothing.
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[ petulantly, ] What if I don’t let you. [ pushing him back down. a guiding, steadying thing, barely a flex of muscle beneath his rolled sleeve required to do so. slipping into that keen, watchful mode that he does sometimes, a byproduct of observing his own terror from the outside for so long. ] Aren’t you not supposed to negotiate with terrorists?
[ voice still low, leaning forward so embry doesn’t have to strain to hear him through the din. ]
You know I can hear your heartbeat from, like, whole floors away. I know which one’s yours. It’s already up.
[ just thinking about danny, or talking about this, in a crowded room. funnily enough, it doesn’t occur to him that he himself might have an impact. (the other implication is less obvious, though it’s there. if you go, i’ll know where you are. i’ll know what you do with him. to him.) ]