It's a mess

Caleb: open your SAT prepbook. delete the contractions. add the verb “mumbled.” stir in german and self-loathing to taste.

Jester: she! is very excited!! about everything!! About anything!! About nothing at all!!! occasionally sprinkle in some friendly wisdom. her cheer is a mask of deep-seated pain but that’s alright because this town has a bakery.

Beau: AY, are you talkin’ to me? I said, are you talkin’ to me? Are you ready, motherfucker? Are you ready to throw down?? I will piss on your ashes, I don’t give a fuck. I hate my parents. I love my friends.

Molly: i am an idiot who never learned to read. My accent might as well be irish, and all my bullshit is well-intentioned. Fuck a bagel. Love yourself. Would you like to hear a fortune? I am contractually obligated to end on the word “dear”

Nott: hey, have you met my son? My wonderful, talented, incredible son? Oh, what’s that? Your parents aren’t around? Hey, how would you like to be my son? I know I’m not much, just a little goblin, but I can teach you all about crime.

Yasha: imagine all of scandinavia. make her sentences unbelievably vague. End abruptly. Stir in allusions to a horrifying past and a generous helping of I Loved My Dead Wife

Fjord: y'all’d’ve'f'I’d’ve

exploring a flowery town with cute villagers

drinking a milkshake in an empty diner at 3am

real life that feels dreamlike

cute sunflower field dates

in love with the universe

softest love songs

living inside an 80s tv show

drinking tea on a cozy raining morning

you’re an angsty teen in a coming-of-age film

summer road trip in the west coast

vacation in san francisco

living in an old French film

stargazing and contemplating the meaning of life

late night drives in a 90’s movie

watching a pink sunset over the beach with your best friend

going to the beach in a camper van in 1960′s california

collecting whimsical music-boxes and taking pictures of clouds in paris

falling asleep on the moon

city lights at midnight

feeling dazed and drifting off under blinding sunlight

remembering someone else’s memories like they’re your own

wandering the avenues of vintage new york city

being the guardian of a snowy forest

living in a cinematic painting

feeling like you’re half-dreaming in faded sunlight in the 60s countryside

riding a bike a beautiful city as leaves drift down around you

exploring an art museum

feeling sad at the bottom of a swimming pool

bonus: