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my dream is to get real high and drive straight into a cliff
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date idea: you take me to a place full of your friends and we interact for a few hours, then i leave a hidden camera and go home and you ask everyone what they thought of me and i watch it thinking that i am either the weirdest or coolest person alive
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twisted - @rosekillermicrofic - word count: 207
"Fuckin' weirdo."
"So odd. Get away from me."
"What the hell? You're so gross!"
Evan is used to it. He's not normal, and he's used to people staring, and telling him off, and judging. He's gotten to the point where he's just quiet, keeping his obsessions and fascinations close to his chest. He learned early on that you can't make friends easily if you shake their hands and say, "Hi, I'm Evan and I like to watch recordings of autopsies and collect bones." Actually, it gets you sent to the guidance counselor.
So he watches people from the outside, enduring social situations and escaping home as soon as possible.
Until Barty.
Because when Barty sneaks up behind him one day, as he sits in the school library, earbuds stuffed in his overly-pierced ears and watching a how-to video on animal taxidermy (he's not planning on killing anything, just using some roadkill or something), he's rudely interrupted by The New Kid, who taps on his shoulder.
"Are you watching a Youtube Video about dead stuff?" Barty asks, eyes wide?"
And Evan sighs, because he doesn't feel like explaining. "I..."
"That's fuckin' twisted, mate," Barty grins. There's a pause. "I like you."
Evan beams, warmth spreading in his chest.
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não acredito que vou ter que aprender a usar uma rede social do zero, tudo por causa de um fodido bilionario americano
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