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Fight/Argument Sentence Starters

"Make me"

"Don't tempt me"

"I hate you"

"You are infuriating"

"Just shut up already"

"That doesn't even make sense"

"Bite me"

"Eat me"

"Kiss my ass"

"Just admit i'm right"

"Just admit you're wrong"

"You are being ridiculous"

"That's irrational"

"Listen to me"

"That's not what I meant and you know it"

"Don't yell at me"

"That's it. End of discussion"

"I don't believe you"

"Don't look at me like that"

"What's with that look?"

"Go away"

"Don't talk to me"

"Do you ever shut up?"

"You're such a loud mouth"

"You shouldn't have said that"

"Fuck you"

"Step on a lego"

"Get bent"

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you"

"It isn't up for debate"

"Don't question my orders"

"I recognize that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it"

"That is the worst idea i've ever heard"

"Who writes your plans, the village idiot?"

"That's mine"

"Give it back"

"Don't touch my stuff"

"That's not yours"

"Just leave already"

"The door is over there"

"I cannot deal with your bullshit right now"

"I have my orders"

"You have your orders"

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yO what did i miss

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thefiirsthunter:

If he would tell the truth, then he would tell, that the person, whose resting place he just standing in front of, was far more, than a friend. Too often he stood here and mourned the echoes of the past. 

“Yes… A dear friend.”, he simply answered. 

Gehrman straightend his back in his wheelchair, as far it was possible and turned his gaze towards the huntress. “What brings you to me, dear child?”

The young woman shrugged, seemingly uncaring of the matter. She faced loss as well, yet she’d done her best to pack her grief tight within a little box.

“I’d not linger on ‘t,” A lie, Ethel was, certainly, well versed in advice she herself could not follow. She gazed her eyes upon the various tombstones, none she recognized, reasonably. After a moment, she registered his question.

“Ah, nothin’, hm,” a pause, collecting thoughts, “what’s it like?” She begun, “Bein’ in the dream so long, what’s it like?”

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grave-mentor:

“Certainly, you must do quite a bit of cleaning then? Yharnam is particularly squalid, even  pertaining to small trinkets such as coins… Do tell me, your demeanor is rather lighthearted  for this most… treacherous environment; it must be quite difficult, yes?”

         ❛ That I do, indeed, ❜

   Her fingers dug through her pockets, gleefully    picking out a freshly cleaned coin, providing a    glimmer she cherished more than the hopeful    morn. Ethel understood his question, unfortunately    lacked the understanding to answer it properly. 

         ❛ Bein’ mopey ‘bout things don’t make            ‘em better, y’know, ❜

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grave-mentor:

“Such small items that hold immense value… I cannot say I have ever seen the need for  currency. Even now in this city, it seems as if they have lost their monetary importance.  Nonetheless - their shine is quite appealing.”

         ❝ Exactly !! Love to collect ‘em,            though ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ and stained, they            get in my adventures, got ta            clean them t’keep their 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 ❞

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thefiirsthunter:

He nodded, as he wouldn’t force his advice on no one and turned back to the old stone. The letters were nearly gone, barely readable now, though he knew exactly, whose gravestone this was…

“Yes, a long time ago, before I was shackled.”

Having some problems, to lean forward, Gehrman managed to put a white flower on the grave and continued to watch it with a gaze of sorrow.

The Huntress squinted, attempting to read the faded wording. Even if the lettering were more clear, Ethel had not received the best education, and would not understand what it said even if she tried.

❝ Who was ‘t? A dear friend ?? ❞

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cheerfulcheckers:

@serratione

She shouldn’t be alive, but she is. And now she’s alone as night approaches; there wasn’t enough time to find something to eat, so it’s another night to go hungry while she hides from the monsters. A normal child would have parents to promise the monsters were just her imagination but these ones? These are real. And they take more villagers every day – maybe she should just let them take her too.

   What a pitiful little child, just as she once    was, no room for judgement ( lest she be    judged the same ).

         ❝ Y’fond of gettin’ 𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓃 apart,             young’n? Find naught but             ravenous dogs here, ❞

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Cria Cuervos by laura-makabresku

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thefiirsthunter:

@serratione liked for a starter

Gehrman sat in his wheelchair, placed in front of one of the graves, a sad expression on his face, while he sighed quietly. Steps caught his attention, actually rather close. How could he not notice?

The old eyes found a young huntress, returning to the dream.

“Dear child, you look exhausted. May I advice you to take a rest?”

A huff sounded, a resistant child she was. Ethel leaned back on the stone, letting her breath return. 

❝ Nay, old man. Can’t say I will, no, ❞ Somewhat a lie, for she hadn’t moved from the very spot. She took note of him, and the gravestone.

❝ Someone ya knew ?? ❞ Her words lined with naught but curiosity.

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send a ☜ to interact with a younger version of my muse!

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txghut:

@serratione wanted a thing!

“I don’t blame you– the job offered a lot of pay. Even I would have butted in to snag some coin.”

         ❝ Ay, who don’t enjoy a good extra            clinkin’ in their pockets ?? Shame,            though, gettin’ meself caught, ❞

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@grave-mentor

         ❝ I do like the coins, shiny an’ clinky,             they are, what say you, ‘bout the coins? ❞

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i’m gonna remake my emily kaldwin

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that was a very long nap i woke up in the dark livingroom, i have the shakes and the chills someone take care of me