Well. Share of the wonderfulness that is Vince, of course! You are just so full of life! You have so much more than just a bowtie, a miniature dog, and some shiny underwear! (By the way. Where IS that dog? I have not seen him in a few days.)(And where is that shiny underwear? I do not believe I have seen it!)
You have YOU, Vince. Celebrate it!
And um, No! Of course I am not calling you a homosexual! Are you mad? Why would I do such a thing? Where did you get that idea, darling?
I am not gay. I am not gay at all. I don't understand where people get these ideas from. I could never fall for a boy? What kind of person would I be then, huh? It's so fucking ridiculous.
It's not like I fucking prance around in tight revealing clothing, it's not like I giggle constantly, it's not like I constantly flirt with boys and have this obsession with make up and glamorous things.
It's not like I'm a fucking WALKING GAY STEREOTYPE.
Oh darling! I never ever said you were!!! I never hinted or thought that...it never even crossed my mind!
You are so manly, dear! You are rough and burley and gruff! You are the epitome of STRAIGHT MAN!! You could not be more straight if you were a lumberjack! A LUMBERJACK! They are SO manly. And straight. Yes. Flannel.
Of course you could not fall for a boy! And you do not prance. Believe me: I know prancing! And you do not prance. And you do not flirt with boys! Never!
And you have no obsessions that could be seen as gay, nor any mannerisms or traits of the gayness.
You did not, perchance, partake of the punch, did you?
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Feeling better?
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If better is a pounding headache... And vomiting constantly... Then yes, I am better.
Blaise Zabini.
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I thought you knew.
Um. I have something to help the, um, "better"-ness.
Vincent. Darling.
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And it was lovely, darling. I enjoyed it. So much!
Oh. Um. Hmmm.
...did you not want anyone to hear?
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Hence my not stopping you. You were adament. ADAMENT. Very determined, darling.
Actually, I could not stop you. At all.
You should share more.
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Are you calling me a homosexual?
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You have YOU, Vince. Celebrate it!
And um, No! Of course I am not calling you a homosexual! Are you mad? Why would I do such a thing? Where did you get that idea, darling?
Is it something I said?
...unless you want me to...?
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It's not like I fucking prance around in tight revealing clothing, it's not like I giggle constantly, it's not like I constantly flirt with boys and have this obsession with make up and glamorous things.
It's not like I'm a fucking WALKING GAY STEREOTYPE.
I'm not really one for sharing, Blaise.
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You are so manly, dear! You are rough and burley and gruff! You are the epitome of STRAIGHT MAN!! You could not be more straight if you were a lumberjack! A LUMBERJACK! They are SO manly. And straight. Yes. Flannel.
Of course you could not fall for a boy! And you do not prance. Believe me: I know prancing! And you do not prance. And you do not flirt with boys! Never!
And you have no obsessions that could be seen as gay, nor any mannerisms or traits of the gayness.
And everyone can learn to share, Vince. Come on.
Share.
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He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
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Besides, Harry's got the wood under control.
I think he owns a lumber company.
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So Harry owns this lumber company, yes?
Now I see the light.
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