fuck marry kill

[money]

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!)

Comments

[kobes]

[a huff, pink-cheeked, head ducking that slightest bit at the mention of masturbating – he might be more or less the manor bicycle, but something shy, demure sticks to koby, even after all this time.]

I’d put up a fight. Fun like – what? [then, before the stranger can answer:] Same as you. I guess. I can swim.

[snaggleteeth]

[it's both new and familiar, koby's bashful pursuit of subject. (how he gets laid this much, with his timidity, is one for science; it's definitely not always weird dicks and cervixes cramping in animalistic overdrive.)]

I'd bite you here.

[two fingers, crooked into double-cs, like salad tongs, pinch gently on the middle of koby's throat.] Here. [his left hipbone, through the fabric of his shirt.] And here. [and there, where inseam and crutch point converge. a little to the left. labia? pink curlies?] Pick seashells. Dance?

[kobes]

[koby’s chin lifts, instinctively, baring his throat to the gentle pinch, squirming at the echoing ones to his hip, the inside of his thigh. the hem of the shorts he’s wearing is high, bare inches beneath qimir’s hand. the sheen of pink elsewhere – along his arms, his shins, under his arms and trailing up his stomach at the gym – will make the fact of the carpet matching the drapes not too surprising.

face flushed the exact same shade of pink:] I can’t dance. I like seashells, though. [he tilts his head, quirks up both eyebrows.] Is that the next one? Bite, dance, pick up seashells with?

I think we’re moving away from the heart of how this game works, Qimir.

[snaggleteeth]

Said I don't care for the rules, didn't I?

[koby should absolutely go back to work. nine or ten glasses need refilling, at this point. is it possible to build too much character?]

But you're right. The heart of the game is someone must suffer. You should learn to dance. And duel. If you're going to suffer, must as well get good at something. Can't be all research and note-taking every day.

['qimir.' he likes that his name is back, as false as it was.]