Im 100% Sure You Would Hate Me As A Drunk. The Happy Kind That Makes Friends With Everybody And Most
I’m 100% sure you would hate me as a drunk. the happy kind that makes friends with everybody and most definitely runs away when you tell me that we’re going home
when are we doing vc drinking games bestie???
I'm 100% sure I hate you no need to be drunk ^^ no jokes aside thats very true. The type of drunk all loud, touchy, and very happy and friends w everybody and you're right beside me we're going- what the hell where tf did she just run to FUCKING COME HERE WE'RE GOING!
I hate it.
Very much.
Your type of drunk makes me wanna go in a box and never get out.
(vc drinking games QHEJJWJE I wanna see gui drunk we're doing it asap)
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jellxnew liked this · 4 years ago
More Posts from Catzula
People who choose pancakes over waffles are either >90; can't eat waffles, and can't admit they'd rather eat those crispy waffles than pancakes that feel like soggy fries, or are just dumb.
people who choose pancakes over waffles r people who shouldn’t be trusted
"that's salt, not sugar" with your choice of character!

BAHAHAHA IM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS kohi tysm for sending something in and im sorry I made it a crackfic (I think) it was just really fun to write
Synopsis: love is sweet but divorces can be a little,,, salty.
Send me a random sentence and I'll make it an angst drabble!

Marrying Osamu Miya was the best decision of your life.
You had your most beautiful memories with him, the best years of your life were the best because he was there with you, holding your hand, smiling into the kiss he presses on your cheek.
You loved him, with all your heart- but things sometimes go wrong, and this time what went wrong was his love for you.
"I don't love you anymore."
The moment he spoke those to you, you knew it all was over. What he said was something you'd been aware of for the longest time, you werent dumb, you could feel him drifting away, you could feel his kisses getting monotonous, his touch out of obligation, his words of love, of habit.
But as long as it wasn't confirmed, hope lived strong in your heart, hope that it wasn't true, you were reading too much into things, he was just tired, stressed- any excuse you could find.
But then came the inevitable.
As he stared at your tear-damp face, grey eyes cold and unforgiving- you only came to realize Osamu Miya had no love left for you.
"Please, 'Samu," you tried to reason still, despite his almost mocking gaze, "I'll try harder, I'll make you happy, I beg you to give us another chance!"
Your hands grasped around his hand, you were on your knees as you begged for this one thing- and you wonder what you've done to make him hate you do that he wouldn't even bring you up to your feet as you trembled on the cold ground of your shared home.
"Let me go," he had hissed at you, instead, shaking his hand to make your weak grip on him let go. "I'll send you the divorce papers."
It's unfair, you had thought. How easy it is for him to leave as you cried on the ground, alone and cold as you watched the one man you've ever loved leave your home.
The moment you had taken the cursed pile of white paper in your cold, shaking hands, the last piece of hope had died with it. Everything, the last six years you had spent with the love of your life, was now getting discarded that easily. You thought, you might- might hate him for how easy he made it look.
But you never really thought you'd plot in your head to kill him.
"What about-" you remembered sobbing that night he had left you, "what about our son?"
He hadn't answered that that night, but as you now scanned the paper you were holding, you had your answer.
The bastard was demanding full custody.
What first was an ache in your heart, shaking your body, leaving you so vulnerable because you had just lost your dearest person was now turning into blind, hot rage.
You don't even remember how you dialed his number, your heart beating in your ears enough to have you deaf, hands shaky as you waited for him to pick up.
"Wha-"
"I'll fucking murder you." You curse as soon as you hear his lazy tone. "I will fucking murder you, you hear me, Miya? If you ever try to take my child away from me, I will not let you live."
~
"Osamu, go help your wife in the kitchen!" Your aunt laughs somewhere in the garden, making you curse her whole existence.
Ever since you had learned about him suing for full custody, you and Osamu weren't exaclty on... good terms.
Your hands start trembling with anger as you hear his grunt of approval, lazy footsteps making their way into the kitchen.
It was your son's birthday.
The divorce was so sudden, you couldn't tell him or anyone in your families that you hated each other to the guts with your husband, and you sure didn't want to ruin your sons birthday toast with, "clink, clink! May I have your attention? Baby, congrats on your birthday, I love you so much- you're so different from your bastard of a father over here. Oh, also, we're getting a divorce."
"Hey," the gray haired man strolls in with all his seriousness, aware of your fury that would make anyone's skin crawl. Not his, though- no, Osamu Miya is immune to your anger. Instead, he squints his eyes at you, or rather what you have in your hands, and smiles.
"That's salt, not sugar." He laughs right before you add the substance to your son's birthday cake batter. "Don't even know the difference? This is why I'm demanding custody, I want my son to live-"
His sentence is cut together by a loud crash, followed by the sounds of broken glass.
Osamu's grey eyes widen as they close on to the dented wall only a millimeter away from his head, and then to the broken glass shreds and crystals of salt mixing together on the ground.
Did you just-
Yes you did.
You just threw a glass of salt at your husband's head.
Well, happy birthday to your son, I guess.
might flop but….. rb with ur sign & what kind of drunk you are
So I just finished fool me once, fool me twice second part and I'm crying my dudes, good luck with this one.