felice: how's everyone doing?
simon: i'm breathing.
felice: setting the bar pretty low, huh?
simon: well, it's more than wille.
wille, having a panic attack, an existential crisis and a mental breakdown, all at the same time: honestly, fuck you.
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the entire rest of the class watching the crown prince and some curly boy be suspiciously bitter and petty to each other everytime they are near
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Wille: Where are my fucking keys?
Kristina: Wille, you're the Crown Prince, try to say it a little more dignified
Wille: Sorry, may I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!
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simon: *sneaking back into his room through a window*
ayub (turning in his chair and flicking the lights on): mind telling me where you've been?
simon: uhh i was at rosh's...
rosh (turning around in her own chair): try again.
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Spotted in Stockholm
“People are fake. Pizza is real.”
~ Simon Eriksson, probably.
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Henry: I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like Walter a little bit
Wille: you doodled your wedding invitation
Henry: no, that's our joint tombstone!
Wille: ... my mistake
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Wille: I do what I want!
Felice: So you wouldn't mind me telling Simon, right?
Wille: Wait, no-
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August: Hey
Wille: Ugh this guy again
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kristina: i have raised a prince
simon: you fucked up a perfectly good kid is what you did. look at him. he’s got anxiety
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Felice, teaching Wille how to drive: Okay, Wille, if you see August and Jan Olof crossing the road what do you hit first?
Wille: August.
Felice: ....
Wille: Jan Olof?
Felice: The brakes, Wille!
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if i see simon kissing someone that isn't me one more time, i genuinely might cry on live.
- prince wilhelm of sweden to felice, on more than one occasion.
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i think the queen would've been less confused and surprised if wille had called her to tell her he set the school on fire 💀💀
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Fredrika: Wow, those people really hate us
Stella: Mmh, maybe they're homophobic
Fredrika: We’re not gay Stella
Stella: We’re not??
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felice: remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder?
wille: stop romanticizing the past
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felice: the bright side is
wille: the what??
felice: fine, the side with a very faint hint of luminescence
wille: sure
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Wilhelm: I think I'm having a midlife crisis
Simon: you are 16
Wilhelm: I MIGHT DIE AT 32!
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