#I know it’s rushed but GOING STRONG

[tommys-wings]

GOING STRONG

[puppyeared]

id fumble him so bad

[rockethorse]

The basegame wedding dress has a pregnancy morph??

[hinamie]

im still :/// at th fact that my speed and output have decreased however i Am more happy w the recent subtle shifts in my style and with the past few pieces overall so . i will focus on that lest i drive myself Mad

[unriding]

Me sneaking into your asks with this drabble:

Disclaimer: I have yet to get a good grasp of Moze's character so this might be a bit OOC and on your side as well (sorry). I did my best. Also, this was inspired by the post you made abt telling Moze your tasks for the day | 600+ words (not proofread)

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In Moze's eyes, you reminded him of a dog catching a case of the zoomies.

You were quite literally everywhere. He'd find you talking to someone one moment before you're rushing off to do something else entirely the next. It seemed like you had quite a lot on your plate as of recently. Tasks, things you wanted to do, and so much more spinning around that mind of yours. You've told him a bit of your plans so he has a general idea. But seeing you juggling all of those tasks at once makes both admiration and concern bloom in his chest.

One time, Moze found you carrying a box filled with items. It would've been amusing to him how comical it was that the items piled so high— he could barely see you behind it. However, he did worry right after given how you almost tripped over something. He managed to catch you and the items before both came crashing all over the floor.

He insisted on helping you carry the items to wherever its destination was. It took a bit of pursuasion on his side. Convincing you that it truly wasn't a bother to him at all, and that he'd be very much glad to be of assistance to you.

"I need to get these delivered first. Then go stop by the shop to buy some things. After that…" You go on to ramble about the things you had to do to help get a better vision on what else you had to do. "Oh, no… I messed up." The smile on your face dropping at the thought that had slipped your mind until that moment. "I forgot to invite Jiaoqiu to dinner with the others—"

"It's tomorrow evening, right? He knows. I mentioned it last time when I spoke to him." Moze says with a calm tone.

You blink at him, slightly caught off-guard by the man beside you. Though it's immediately replaced with relief and gratitude. The smile on your face already back, lighting up your features once more. Infectious as always, it makes the corners of his lips tug upwards as well. A small part of him feels quite proud to have been able to help you ease your worries even by a bit.

And this is when you start noticing it.

Did you mention that you're running out of a certain skincare product, but you can't find the time to stop by the store to buy it? Moze conveniently has to stop by near the store and buys it for you. Did you also mention that you wanted to do a certain task but keep forgetting about it? He gently reminds you about it via message or verbal if he's nearby. Did you also happen to mention that you've been meaning to try out a certain desert from a cafe, but the schedule simply doesn't seem to allow you? No fear, he passes by the store to buy you the treat.

Moze doesn't see you as someone incapable of handling things by yourself. To him, he simply sees it as a way to show his care. If making a quick stop somewhere, sending you a small reminder of something you had to do that day, or even helping you out with the tasks you need to accomplish, makes you smile? Gives you a chance to take a break? Let you worry less about the things you need to do? It's worth it in his eyes.

He does his best to avoid making you feel like you're bothering or troubling him (you really aren't). Most of the time, he does them discrcetly and casually. Partially, since he's also scared that you'll think he's weird or a creep for acting like that.

Please don't think of him badly.

Moze truly means well.

[bacidipesca]

a weight you choose

Okay guys this one might be a little different. I’m a person who suffers from chronic illness, so I know what it’s like to really feel sick, and I wanted to write a hurt/comfort fic. Peach is sick with a stomach bug and this fic might be a little gross at points. There will be discussion of vomiting and snot, but no, uh, toilet things.

I hope everyone enjoys! It’s a bit of a long one. (Almost 4K!)

Waking up was usually not a difficult process for Princess Peach.

Though she was often up late with her duties and paperwork, Peach was an early riser by nature and usually itched to get out of bed and start her day with the rising of the sun (much to the chagrin of the folks in the castle). It was a rare occasion that Toadette had to come and fetch her, and rarer still that she didn’t immediately jump out of bed once she realized she’d overslept. It took several seconds of Toadette shaking her shoulder and trying to rouse her for the princess to even stir.

“Princess, are you alright?” Toadette said once again, and this time Peach heard it, though it sounded as though it came through a layer of cotton wool.

She scrunched her nose and groaned, turning for a moment to try it bury her face in her pillow. Even that slight movement, however, was enough to send a wave of terrible chills down her body from head to toe. She popped open her eyes to look up at Toadette, squinting a bit even in the low light, and she swallowed painfully. She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes grew alarmed before she could utter a word and with more energy than she thought she had, she flung the sheets back and stumbled out of bed.

Her chambers, of course, had an adjoining bathroom and she raced over to the trash bin there to heave, catching herself on her hands on the rim of the bin before she could fall to her knees. It took quite a few rounds of heaving before she felt like she could lift her head again, and when she did she realized that Toadette had come in behind her and tied her hair back from her face.

Peach would have thanked her, but another wave of chills rocked over her and she couldn’t speak as she heaved again.

It felt like that went on for hours, though Peach was sure it couldn’t have been that long. She would get a moment to catch her breath, would start to stand upright, and her stomach would cramp or she’d feel a bolt of inexplicable pain shoot up from her gut to her throat. Sweat beaded on her forehead and in her hairline from the constant effort of coughing and her legs began to ache from the nonstop tension as her stomach continued to try to empty itself, long after she’d lost everything she’d eaten. When the rolling and cramping of her abdomen didn’t stop even still, she couldn’t help but start to cry and fat teardrops slid down her flushed cheeks. After a while she lost the strength to stay on her feet and went down to her knees, leaning on her elbows as she clutched at the trash bin.

I don’t even have anything to come up anymore, she thought miserably, and she bit her lip hard to prevent a whine from escaping from her throat. Her efforts were in vain, though, because when she swallowed it felt as though she’d been eating broken glass. Her throat was shredded from all of her coughing, and she let out a pathetic sound as more tears rolled down her face, leaning on one of her arms. Pressed against her cheek, she could feel how hot and flushed her face still was.

She heard Toadette speaking behind her.

“…like this all morning. She hasn’t stopped, and it’s been about three hours now,” she said, and Peach reeled a little at the confirmation that she had, indeed, been vomiting for hours. Then she realized Toadette was talking to another person.

Oh, she must have gotten Nurse Toadessa, Peach thought, relief sweeping through her. Before she could even really finish the thought, though, it was already proven wrong.

“Dio mio, I understand,” came the other voice, and Peach couldn’t hear anything else after because the shock of it sent the most horrible wave of nausea through her yet.

Toadette had not fetched the castle nurse. She had gone and fetched Mario.

(What she did not know at this time was that Toadette had gone out with the full intention of getting the castle nurse, but Mario had found her first. And once Mario had heard the princess was ill, nothing could be done to prevent him from rushing to her side.)

Peach retched hard into the trash bin, this time seeing stars as her vision darkened around the edges. It hurt, it felt like she was going to turn herself inside out, she couldn’t stop to breathe—and honestly if this was her end she was beginning to welcome it, if it meant she stopped vomiting. Just as she was beginning to truly feel lightheaded, a bundle of cloth was pushed under her nose and her next retch was stopped in its tracks by the shock of the smell alone. She gasped and got another inhale that almost choked her.

When she tried to jerk back from the sharp, chemical smell, she felt a gentle hand on the back of her head and the cloth was kept close, though not close or hard enough to smother her—just to keep the scent invading her nose.

“I know, I’m sorry,” came Mario’s voice from somewhere above her head. Her eyes were still tearing and she could just barely see his hand in front of her face. He wasn’t wearing his gloves. “I know it smells bad, but it’s helping, sì?”

He was right, somehow. As long as she was taking in that burning smell, her stomach wasn’t trying to flip around. She could take a breath, and she did so greedily, coughing on mucus when she let it back out but not convulsing with the need to purge. A low sob of relief pushed out of her and she lifted her head for the first time in what felt like forever.

She felt disgusting. She knew there had to be something streaming from about every hole in her head—tears were still falling from her eyes, while snot ran freely out of her nose like an open faucet, and she was sure there was a strand of spit clinging to her lip and stringing to the side of the trash bin. But Mario smiled at her regardless, eyes warm and kind and sweet enough to have her heart thumping. He kept the foul-smelling cloth close to her nose while he reached into his pocket with his free hand for a handkerchief. Peach tried to back away again when he reached out for her face.

“N-no, I’ll get it dirty,” she said in a wavering voice, trying to turn away.

He chuckled softly at her and shook his head. “That’s the whole point, Princess.”

She didn’t have enough energy to struggle with him, so she let him wipe her face even though she thought it was pointless. It felt as though she would start crying or vomiting again any moment, and her shoulders hitched with an anticipatory sob just at the thought. Once Mario had stuffed his handkerchief away again, he pulled something different from the depths of his pocket, and Peach’s brow furrowed when she heard it crinkling.

“I need you to try to eat this,” he said, holding it out to her, and when she saw what it was she let out another sad little sound. It was a hard peppermint candy.

She shook her head, leaning back and away even as he unwrapped it. “Nooo,” she said, drawing the word out like a child and feeling pathetic even as she did so. “I hate peppermint.”

That caused Mario to pause, and he looked behind her. “Does she?” he asked, and she realized he must be talking to Toadette when she heard the little woman’s voice pipe up.

“No, she’s just being contrary,” said Toadette, in a tone that suggested long suffering on this particular subject, mingled with amusement. “She’s always like that when she’s sick.”

“I’m really not,” Peach tried to defend, but over her head Mario and Toadette were exchanging knowing smirks where she couldn’t see.

Mario made a soft sound in the back of his throat, as if to soothe her, and he lifted the peppermint to her lips. “You can spit it out later if you want, but this will help for now. Please, Princess, just for a few minutes?”

His eyes were imploring her behind the candy pressed to her lips, and her heart thumped again. Why, oh why, had Toadette fetched Mario to help her instead of the nurse? Why was he the one seeing her like this, drenched in sweat and leaking from everywhere? She could feel a bead of snot starting to drip down from her nose, and she parted her lips and allowed Mario to feed her the peppermint before it could touch the candy. He beamed at her, and finally allowed the nasty cloth to drop away from her face.

“The peppermint should help soothe your stomach a little until we can get some proper medicine in you,” he said. He brushed hair back and away from her face, eyes flicking from her soaked hairline to her swollen lips, and he frowned for a moment as he seemed to consider something. He looked her over for a long moment. “Do you think you can stand up?”

Oh. She hadn’t been anticipating that. She felt as though she barely had enough energy to keep her head upright at this point, but she had to at least try, right? She bit her lip and hesitated for a long moment, but eventually she nodded and tried to stand.

It swiftly became clear that she was going to need assistance. Her legs trembled still when she tried to get them to cooperate, and she nearly pulled the trash bin over on herself when she tried to use it for leverage to stand up. Mario and Toadette were quick to her side to help, both trying to soothe her as she mumbled out apologies.

“M’so, so s-sorry, I-I just can’t…” she said, almost losing the peppermint. Toadette shushed her, moving the trash bin out of the way so Peach couldn’t hurt herself.

Mario took hold of her hands, hoisting her to her feet with little apparent effort, and when she proved unsteady he positioned himself under one of her arms, placing a large hand at the small of her back. She was slow to move and Mario was kind enough to let her, matching her pace as she shuffled across the tile. His being shorter worked to their advantage as well, as Peach wasn’t sure she would have been able to stand fully upright if she tried.

“Here, Toadette is going to help you get into a shower,” Mario told her as they approached the steaming stall. The water was already going and a bench had been dragged inside so she didn’t have to stand, clearly the work of Toadette while she’d been distracted with her illness. “The hot water and the pressure will help, alright? But before you do, you need to take this.”

He gestured and Peach saw that Toadette had both a tall glass of water and a couple of medicine tablets in her hands. Peach bit her lip, skeptical.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it down,” she said softly, voice small and scared.

This wasn’t her being contrary, but genuine fear that she wouldn’t be able to stomach the cure for her illness somehow and she would just stay sick. She’d been going for three hours and hadn’t stopped, had hardly been able to catch her breath, could now barely walk across her bathroom. It didn’t feel like there was an end in sight.

“I think you can,” Mario said. He gave her a soft smile, and when he continued she swore it was like he’d read her mind. “I know it seems like it’s not going to stop, but this is going to pass. We got you walking, away from the bin. That’s an improvement already.” There was something a bit beseeching in his eyes. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course she did. That was like asking if water was wet, or if Peach’s favorite color was pink. She could see the look in Toadette’s eyes as she glanced between the two of them, the knowing, the smile that threatened to break out on her little round face, and Peach pouted briefly at her before she reached out for the pills.

Mario encouraged her to drink as much of the water as she could, though he urged her to drink slowly to not upset her stomach. Once the glass was empty, he took it and said that he would be waiting for them outside and then delicately handed her off to Toadette’s care.

Despite Peach’s apprehensions, Toadette did not take the opportunity to start teasing her—perhaps knowing the princess didn’t really have the energy for it at the moment. Instead she chose to explain how she’d run into Mario on her way to find Nurse Toadessa. Today had been a day Mario and the princess had been scheduled together, so he’d been waiting and worried when she hadn’t appeared for any of her morning duties. Upon hearing she was sick, nothing would appease him but to see her for himself and offer what help he could, even after it had been made plain what the illness was.

“He says he and his brother were sick pretty often as kids, so they know a few tricks,” Toadette told her, with a tone that suggested she’d been impressed. “And with a bit of rubbing alcohol and a peppermint, he had you on your feet.”

Oh, rubbing alcohol. That was what he’d been holding to her nose. Peach couldn’t help but be impressed herself, now that she had some of her wits back. He’d known exactly what to do to help stop the cycle, he’d even just happened to have a peppermint handy in his pocket. Now that she was out of the shower and into a new pajama set (Peach insisted if Toadette wouldn’t let her get properly dressed she should at least wear something other than a nightgown), Toadette had helped her hobble over to the vanity mirror and was helping her manage her hair. The candy that Mario had given her was nearly gone, and she crunched it away.

Her eyes widened suddenly and a pink blush stole over her face. She lifted a hand to her mouth in embarrassment.

“Did I really say I hated peppermint?” she asked in a little squeak.

Toadette laughed brightly. “Yes! You did!”

The princess buried her face in her hands.

Between the two of them they decided it would be best to just braid Peach’s hair back to keep it out of her face and comfortable to sleep in, and it became clear as Toadette brushed out her hair that Peach wasn’t going to be able to stay awake much longer. All of her energy had been drained by the morning’s stress, and now that the nausea had been tamed to a dull ache and she could finally relax, the weariness was catching up to her. When Peach tried to stand and walk away from her vanity, her legs trembled so badly that she had to take a seat again before she could get upright and she bit her lip hard against the sudden sting of tears. She lifted a hand to her face, covering her eyes. Oh, how she hated this. Hated to be a bother. Hated to need the help.

“…I think Mario might need to carry me,” she finally admitted to Toadette in a little whisper.

That was all she needed to scurry out of the room to fetch him; Toadette knew perhaps better than anyone else just how much Peach hated to feel like a burden—especially to Mario—so for her to say it in so many words meant that she knew she was at her limit. It didn’t take long for her to come back with Mario in tow, and Peach found herself a little surprised by just how solemn he looked until he laid eyes on her, and his mustache curled up in a gentle smile.

“You look like you feel better. Your eyes are brighter,” he said warmly, once he was within arm’s reach. Her heart fluttered a little at the sweet words—he always claimed he wasn’t very good with them, but he managed to say the nicest things to her. “Are you ready to move?”

She nodded, unsure if she trusted her voice not to waver if she tried to speak. He smiled at her again and slid an arm around her shoulders.

It was little effort for him to lift her into his arms and as always Peach was struck by how safe and secure she felt. For all his small size, he was so strong and fast and always, always so careful with her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and fought the strong urge to bury her face in there as well. She barely noticed as he walked her out of the bathroom and back to her bed, feeling like she was floating instead, and it felt like the time was cut criminally short when he finally laid her down. A lump rose in her throat and her hand shot out before she could stop herself, wrapping her fingers around one of his thumbs as he started to back away.

“Stay with me? Please?” she asked. Her voice was starting to catch up to everything that had happened, a bit hoarse and reedy. She shuffled back towards the center of the bed and tugged weakly at his hand, giving him the big, wet eyes that had usually convinced Toadsworth to let her have just a couple more hours to read before bed as a child.

“Princess…” Mario’s cheeks were pink and getting darker. He glanced around them, as though he was afraid of being watched, or perhaps of being caught. “I don’t think it’s very, ah, appropriate as your guard…”

Before Peach could say anything else, or come to her senses about what she was asking of him, really, Mario jerked forward a bit, stumbling against the edge of the bed. He turned and saw that Toadette was behind him, a firm hand pressed between his shoulder blades. The look on her face was no-nonsense.

“Take off your boots, please,” was all she said, and Mario knew that there would be no getting away.

He pulled Peach’s hand from his and gave it a soft squeeze before he leaned down to unlace his shoes so he could join the princess. He sat on top of the bedclothes, leaving what he must have thought was a respectful distance between them, and leaned carefully back as he turned to face her. He’d taken off his hat at some point, she finally noticed. His hair was a bit disheveled, as though he’d been running his hands through it and then hastily tried to comb it into place again. That lump in her throat returned at the thought of him being so concerned.

“I’m sorry I made you worry so much,” Peach said after a long few moments of silence.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Mario said back, almost immediately. He shook his head at her. “You can’t help being sick. It happens to everyone.”

She didn’t say anything back for a long moment, unable to come up with words to express what she was feeling. After a beat, Mario picked up one of her hands in his and she blinked when she realized neither of them were wearing their gloves.

The skin of his fingers wasn’t as rough as she might have expected, but his knuckles were a little hairy, and his nails trimmed. His palms were wide and creased, and he had a scar across his index finger she’d never seen before. Most of all, his hands were warm, and they utterly engulfed hers. She would never get tired of seeing her hands disappear inside of his.

“My brother and I used to get sick a lot as kids,” he said. She looked up at his face again and saw the spark in his expression, the one that always came through when he talked about his brother and made his blue eyes twinkle. “And Luigi would always apologize over and over for needing help, or for getting me sick because I helped him. Do you know what always I told him?”

Peach shook her head slowly, sinking back further into her pillow.

“Un peso che si sceglie non si sente,” he said, and the smooth, melodic cadence of the Italian words felt like it was dancing over her ears. His thumb caressed over her wrist, and her heart caught in her throat when he translated for her. “A weight that you choose is not felt.”

A weight that you choose? Did that mean he was choosing her, too, like he’d chosen to take care of his brother? That he didn’t mind the work, because she was important to him? That he wanted to be here, regardless of if she was sick or not? She didn’t like those kinds of questions—they had jagged corners that dug into her mind as they passed through. They hurt to linger on, like they might burn if she held on for too long, or too tightly. She knew what she wanted the answers to be; her pounding heart and the little zips of electricity from where their skin touched were too telling not to know. But asking them, putting them to voice, was too terrifying to even consider.

“I just…didn’t want you to see me like this,” she managed to say at last, with little energy and a melancholy that no one but Toadette had ever heard from her before. Her tiredness was really beginning to catch up to her.

Mario’s mustache tilted up, one of those smiles where she could hardly even see his mouth because it was hidden behind his thick facial hair. He squeezed her hand again. “Why? You’ve seen me in plenty worse states than this.”

“S’your job, though,” Peach said, and even fading she realized how that sounded. “I mean, not getting hurt, but… oh, you know what I mean.”

Her eyes were having trouble staying open, so she missed the utterly fond look that crossed his face as she scrunched her nose in irritation at herself, as well as how he lifted his free hand to his mouth to contain a laugh at how cute she looked, fussing over her own words.

“I know what you mean, principessa,” he said, once he had control of himself. He could see that she was fading fast, and he reached out to pull the blanket higher over her shoulder. “Just get some rest now. Maybe when you wake up, we can try to have some soup, yeah? Luigi knows this great recipe our nonna used to make…”

He kept going, telling her about how he’d ask his brother to share the recipe with the kitchens, about how it used to soothe them when they were young, about how his nonna used to serve it out of old heirloom teacups for the two of them, until he thought that she was finally asleep.

The last thing Peach thought she felt before she drifted off was a soft pair of lips and a slightly scratchy mustache pressed against her temple, but she was sure she just imagined it.

/fin

[hide-your-bugs-away]

hearing Alan talk about how much he liked Albert Grossman and Eric talk about how much he liked Brian Epstein makes my tiny emotional brain implode like GHGhHhh the Animals' actual manager was Not Good!!!!!!! they were actively looking at the managers of their contemporaries and wished they could've had that instead!!!!!!! 🥹

[persephoneflouwers]

I sometimes wonder how much Louis is able to withstand. It’s a lot of heartbreak in a short amount of time. I got to thinking about this when I’ve been catching up on old 1D footage and even after 1D ended how they really supported each other.

A couple of things that are like daggers to the heart… that hug they shared at the last show. I know we all focused on the Larry hug but with some of these videos & tik toks people are sharing on Twitter, I really saw the Lilo hug. I teared up. They were so close even with the band ending. And then I think of Liam wearing Louis’ merch. Ugh I teared up again. Louis defending Liam on that radio show, teared up again. These darn lilo compilations lol. It’s just minutes of pure emotion. I feel like Louis once again lost such a big part of his support system that he and we thought he’d have for many years to come. Oh and the “I thought we’d share the same stage again but it wasn’t meant to be” part. And how Liam said that Louis would purposely start these water fights to make Liam smile and be like a kid again.

To see how he was publicly grieving by posting not only his statement but the pictures he posted of the 2 of them and then also posting his latest song to encourage people to stream it. It just kills me to see Louis be the next big target online. The amount of hate & wishes of harm on him so soon after Liam’s passing is gross. I hope Louis stays far away from social media and just concentrates on himself during this difficult time.

Oh, that was a bit soul cleansing lol. Sorry to bring up all of this, things just really got to me yesterday. I hope everyone can take steps to heal, I guess I realized my process might be a little longer ❤️‍🩹 Take care!

🫂

[i-appear-misssing]

I just had the horrible thought that I need to fall in love because having devastating crushes on beautiful, competent, authoritative women that I desperately want to please is exhausting and I need it to stop

[cheriafreya]

this was painfully slow to go through, please don't ever do this again Hoyo :_)

[britneyshakespeare]

i finished the merry wives of windsor today btw. 4 shakespeare plays left to go

[k-from-that-one-fic]

I've only seen the first season of Big Time Rush, so I want to hear people's season 1 headcanons! (And you can include anything from the time during their first tour, since it technically happened between seasons!)

Please try to keep it safe for under 18 audiences, as the characters were also under 18 at the time, and I really don't want this blog to be flagged as unsafe. :')

Music headcanons from season 1 are also accepted, as are anonymous submissions through my page! They're all much appreciated~ Have fun with this! :D

[lausticzt-a]

I wish laura could let herself be loved but it happened once (1) that someone almost accepted her for who she was ( he also wanted her to stop her ambitions in settlement of a peaceful life with the best intents ; but was so insistent on keeping her safe and them running off for his version of a happy life ) flaws and all that man had to suffer through her antics for many years before his confession. After his death (she was so, so useless to do anything ; and that failure was one of the things that destroyed her spark), she really shut out everything.

all the men in the interior care about her family name and looks (she is so pretty ... only when placid) , and god do they always get so, physically close to her that she just stares into the distance. the amount of times she had to wait for them to get their arms off her and only once they're leaving does she look at them with ferocity in her veins. at a young age she was paraded around by her mother, and marriage was humoured at her from men twice her age ; which her mother delighted on. they were all sick.

she found so many familial bonds in the survey corp and that had meant, everything to her. that was where her true peace was ; even with all the death, the loss of those very people,, the endless fighting and endless gore --- she would say that was her happy life.

complements are wasted on her. her love is unconventional. face her bullshit head on. don't treat her differently , don't put up with her front -- she will show loyalty to individual people, never a cause. but you put up with her for so long and vice versa, she will run to you when you're hurt, barge through the door and the look of panic is something never before seen - she will have to stop herself immediately because (...) what was she doing. traumatic shit goes down? she's keeps looking at you from a distance and god, she's not the best person for it, but she will check on you, albeit, there's so much confliction on her expression because she's not great at it -- but she knows she wants to be there, so bare with her.

but after all that crap, you know if she did love someone, and she could admit that to herself ; it's a freeing feeling. it doesn't matter to say it, or have it known to the other person, but if it passes through that barrier, all she feels she can do for you is watch your back, and make sure you don't die or get hurt. she won't deny it. it will take years and years before she can come to that point ; but fuck, she's holds herself so differently. it is also so true in her platonic bonds she has to go through this entire process so many times jkfdh

[homicidalfelidae]

Mutuals I am once again faced with a wretched speaker phone conversation involving me. Lend me your strength.

[orcelito]

Did a bit of a number on my knuckles. Hands r hard to bruise, but there's the shade of a bruise on the outside edge of my hand, right at the knuckle. That really was not intentional.

[lilgynt]

yes i’m sick to my stomach over a guy and it’s like kinda pathetic but also my nails are super fuckin long so.