Weird Questions To Ask Novels & Stories

I followed him to his car, and once we were both in, he turned on his car engine and drove to I don't know where. "Do you like comedy?" He asked, and I looked at him as if he had grown two heads. "I don't know!" That was all I told him. I mean, I didn't know what to say. The question seemed out of context. A weird silence consumed us for a while before he asked again. "What do you think about Deadpool?" "What is wrong with you?" I answered his question with another question. "I mean, what's with the weird questions?" He chuckled before he added,

You can start there. I nod slowly. “Finally, someone who makes sense.” Me: I’ll try this. Thanks. I exit the forum, then immediately type: ‘Random fun questions to ask a friend about themselves.’ Enter. My screen floods with suggestions, lists of icebreakers, “cute couple” quizzes, whole threads about date ideas, random memes sprinkled in. I scroll. And scroll. And scroll. “Oh. That’s actually a good question. I’ll keep that.” Next scroll. “That’s funny… but if I ask it, will I sound weird?”

"Sebastian do you want to play twenty questions?" I asked as I went to sit next to him. "What is that?" He asked lowering the volume of the TV. "We just ask each other questions basically." I replied." "What type of questions?" I mentally did a face-palm. "Serious, random or even dirty." "Oh. Do I have to answer all the questions?" "No, not if you don't want to," I replied, he was always so secretive. "Okay sure."

I don’t know what he means “Yeah, you know” he looks a little awkward now. “they are going to ask bitchy and stupid questions to try and get you to respond in anger or without thinking, most likely about Leo or the asylum. Maybe just straight up make shit up like ask you if you know Leo is getting married now or something” My head whips up to look him in the eye so fast at that last part I almost give myself whiplash. “Sorry? He’s what?”

“He's so hot, totally my type.” “No, he's not, now let's go.” I dragged her off. “Wait a second,” she suddenly paused and I thought she was going to say something serious until she started teasing me and asking weird questions about our sex life. “So how often do you have sex?” “Do you guys do it rough or soft?” “Have you ever done it in public?” “Do you use toys?” “Do you need an audience?” “I'll whack you in the head if you keep that up.”

I still have a lot more time left. So I decided to leave my apartment through the window. I don’t like entering or exiting my apartment the normal way. People especially the owners always ask annoying questions. “Where have you been?” “Why don’t I see you in the morning time?” “Why do you only come out at night?” “Is everything alright?” “Do you you need anything?” “Why aren’t you more social?” “Do you hate us?” “We got a special event coming up, care to join?” “Why do you dress so weird?”

Sara tried to ask, “hmm, I was just wondering, did he ask anything else about me?“ each word pressed so hard that it sounded like she wanted to say something, but wasn't coming out of her mouth. Neha pretending, “Who?” Sara rolls her eyes, “Oh, I see. Why are you asking about him? When you see him, you act strangely, but now you want to know that if he asked about you or not? Why do you act so weird in front of him? Do you like him or you hate him? Just tell me what you think about him?” She was asking so many questions that Sara didn't know what to answer.

Though, judging from the look in her eyes, I had a feeling she wanted me to feel comfortable first by asking me the very simplest question. "Don't have one." Her forehead wrinkled. "How's that possible? Everyone's supposed to have a color they connect with." "It's not necessary, Solayne. I could hate something I liked tomorrow." "Weird," she mumbled under her breath. "Okay. Your turn." "Can I ask a Do?" "No. You need to ask a Tell first." She gave me a suspicious look. "In one word, what was your first sex like?" She gasped, looking at me like I'd just stabbed her with something. She probably was expecting me to ask her something simple since she did the same.

I nodded. “He’s funny,” she said after a moment. Like she’d decided to give me something. “If you ever wonder about what he’s like. He asks too many questions. About everything. Why the sky changes color. Why wolves have mates. Why some people are sick and others aren’t.” The corner of her mouth moved. “I run out of answers about halfway through most days.” I listened to every word. I could picture it. Her in this kitchen with a small version of herself asking questions she couldn’t keep up with.

He continued rinsing and drying, leaving me with my mouth hung open and eyes still wide as a saucer. First off, what the hell does he mean by he doesn't relate with humans? Forget it. That's confusing as hell. I don't want to think about it. “I am going to forget; you just try to blow my brain. So the twenty questions are done like this: you ask me ten questions about myself, and I do the same to you. And no, it's not childish. We are getting to know each other.” I explained. “Ok… and if it's a question that I don't feel like answering?”