𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑 **/ 𝐞𝐲𝐞

“false,” kit interrupted; people didn’t have standards until 2016, what kind of bs was that? being rich was a standard, being hot was a standard. he didn’t really know what elias was getting at. “but, assuming you’re right, continue.” kit frowned at elias’s explanation. “you... you really think that would work on, like, a lady in medieval times? a god-fearing woman? well,” kit thought for a moment, “to be honest, i bet the middle ages were, like, super horny, so i take that back. but like... i mean, if any sexy guy told me i made their dick hard, guess what? there’s still an eighty-six percent chance i’ll suck their dick. metaphorically, of course.” kit rolled his eyes, leveling elias with a blank stare. “wow, gonna kick me in the nuts then ask me on a date, huh? fucking foolproof.” 

“but even ironically,” kit argued, “it’s unoriginal. it’s bland. there’s no fucking flavor.” he pressed his thumb and index finger together, shaking it in emphasis. kit had to roll his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “honestly, like... unless a pick-up line is truly original, i’m gonna say don’t do that at all.” he insisted. honestly, reused pick-up lines were fucking atrocious simply due to the fact that they were reused. “like... like the neck one, for example, that’s pretty overdone, as classy as it is,” kit couldn’t help a smirk, “but you could say, like, ‘excuse me, do you have insurance? ‘cause when you walked into the room i got whiplash.’” kit paused for a moment, “is that too abstract? but anyways, something original like that.” 

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooh, burn. well, since i’m a pack a day smoker and a pack is about fourteen bucks, looks like it’s $420 (nice) a month. now, there’s 12 cigarettes in a pack, meaning that cost is about 86 cents per cigarette, while for a condom, you can get 32 for about 20 bucks, meaning the price is about 63 cents per. so even if you, somehow, used twelve condoms a day, you’d still spend only about 75% of what you’d spend on cigarettes. like,  if you’re spending more on condoms than cigarettes, you’re either making balloon animals out of that shit or you’re a bone fide sex addict and you need some fucking help. 

because i got a full ride... and because my brother didn’t go here. 

besides my encyclopedic knowledge of serial killers, paranormal occurrences, and horror movies... i can spider walk down the stairs like regan in the exorcist. 

silas, definitely. uh... frankie panky, probably. savvy. and... hendrix, but only under the circumstances where he pretends to be jimmy hendrix’s bastard son.

... i don’t know. i’m gonna say no because i don’t wanna be, like, indecisive, but... i think white lies aren’t as, like, white as they seem, y’know? there’s nothing innocent abt them. 

one person from each house... well, from kappa theta, georgie, obviously. from omega, it would be belle. sigma epsilon i’d say... miriam. if we had weed, i mean, then we’d just have a great time until we starved to death. i guess hendrix from delta psi, percy from phi kappa, and... sigma tau i think i’d have to go with silas. like, we’d totally die there, but at least we’d die having fun, y’know? 

seriously, me alone with my thoughts is a bad fucking time. if i could just not be a greasy fucking monster when i don’t shower it would be much appreciated. 

kit pouted a little bit, considering, “no, my taste is impeccable, but keep talking.” sure, he loved season of the witch and the blair witch sequels, but he would gladly go die on those hills. they were fucking good, alright? “yeah, it’d work for you, because you have hot privilege. and an accent, which just isn’t fucking fair.” to be perfectly candid, though, the accent did nothing for kit, but he knew other people liked it. “besides, does it have personality or character if it’s overused half to death? like, if it’s got a twist to it, then i could see it catching someone, because it’s fucking funny.” 

“but was it a hot person using it on you?” kit asked, leaning forward a little in his seat like this was very important information. “because that is very important to test my theory.” to be fair, kit had flirted with plenty of people while intoxicated, so he totally got it, but he still sighed dramatically at her admittance. “a couple shots of tequila- mir,” he shook his head, “this ruins the whole experiment, beer goggles can make anyone hot.” he sighed to himself, tapping his foot as he thought. “tell you what, next time we go out, i’ll make sure you stay stone cold sober, and we’ll see if we can get someone to hit on you with a bad pickup line. then we can see if it works or not.” he was smiling, teasing; of course mir would never agree to it.