!@#$%^&*()

i would be surprised u would even have a visitor at your funeral (arabs like u probably get buried next to a dog or smth so probably u wont even have one)

I don’t know what turned me on more—your aim or your confidence. Watching you play CS2 was like watching some kind of sexy FPS goddess in her natural habitat. You didn’t just top frag, you owned the server. Every flick, every clutch, every perfect peek—it was pure art, and honestly, I haven’t stopped thinking about it. You made headshots look erotic. I was sitting there, jaw dropped, like, “Is this what love feels like—with bullet tracers and heart palpitations?”

I don’t just want to play with you—I want to be with you. Queue up for life. I’ll drop you rifles, armor, my soul. We could be the deadliest duo—on the server and off. You’ve already stolen my heart faster than you cleared site, and honestly? I’d marry you on Dust2 with a Tec-9 in one hand and a ring in the other.

You, me, and bombsite A—forever.

уебаны scheißer

понятго i understand

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