Stick n Poke
May. 17th, 2024 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robotdick[Nick was the one who went out and acquired everything for this little art project. A trip to diamond city got him the needles, ground down by the machinist there. After a chat with a few friends in the railroad, he managed to drum up some information on various inks. Thankfully, seeing how he did't have actual skin, he didn't have to account much for whether any given pigment was toxic. Hard to leech poison into his blood without having blood. Overall, he gathers up a few sets of needles and combs, and about ten color choices. He has no idea what Hancock will want to do with his name, but Nick's giving him choices.
Is he nervous about getting it done, yeah, is it because he doesn't want a tattoo or because he doesn't want Hancock's name? No, not at all. It's just very...rebellious, conceptually, and Nick the former had Opinions about the type of people who sported tattoos. Most of those opinions are irrelevant in The Wasteland, but they're still there every time he thinks about it.
When Hancock shows up, Nick's got all the gathered items spread out on that interrogation table. It's the only piece of furniture that wouldn't get stained, ergo it's ideal. One of the two chairs has a makeshift cushion on it, clearly for Hancock since Nick didn't exactly suffer when stuck in one position for a long time. There's even a towel draped over the back of the chair for wiping away extra ink. Nick feels extremely prepared and fairly nervous when he welcomes the ghoul in.]
I wasn't sure what you'd feel like doing. [Nick admits when they're by the table.] So I just snatched up whatever I could get my hands on.
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Date: 2024-05-18 04:46 am (UTC)He's not nearly as fast with a needle as a marker, pencil, or knife. It's not a travesty if he does actually pierce through Nick's skin; he's got Repair Kits, but the aim is to hit that sweet spot just below the surface and just above his sensors. The surface damage should heal over the ink, leaving the image like it had been part of the original print.
He falls hard into a groove, spreading black and blacker specks like gunpowder-watercolors that don't seem to have any rhyme or reason. By some
StonerMagic it will absolutely emerge as Hancock's name, but the way it's coming together is hard to track and anticipate. Occasionally he'll swap a needle, an ink. Add more, or less water. Swipe down with a that cool towel and follow with a warm breath.Meticulous is not something Hancock often is, but Meticulous he sure is now. His focus is razor (or rather, needle) sharp and sternly poised; only Nick has his attention, in the way a sculptor cannot possibly ignore his clay. A bomb could go off next to the ghoul and so long as it didn't disturb his inks, needles, or his boyfriend, Hancock could not be less fussed. ]
Yeah... this is definitely the most time I've spent between your legs. That don't seem fair, what with how generous ya are makin me see stars.
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Date: 2024-05-18 05:15 am (UTC)It's strange watching how Hancock's brain parses the information, how he separates out forms like he does. The whole image looks like gibberish to Nick, just a haze of dots, but sure enough, as the ghoul works, more order seems to get hauled up out of the chaos. He could watch this all day, but all Nick's planning aside, it's probably not great for his neck to stay hunched like that.
His joke, out of the blue, makes the last few silent hours all the more unusual for the contrast of it. Nick carefully wheezes out a laugh, making sure he doesn't jar his leg in the process.]
Oh yeah, it's a real raw deal. [Nick says with such heavy sarcasm it would be impossible not to notice it.] We have a good time rollin in the hay and all I get is several hours of watching you make art on me. You're really gonna owe me one after this.
[Said in a way that translates directly to: Are you joking? I love this. This is amazing.]
Really, though, I may end up havin you do all of me. This looks smarter than any outfit I own.
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Date: 2024-05-18 06:25 am (UTC)But he didn't. He gave Nick something extraordinarily individual. A memento with more than one memory folded in, a sigil of the care and attention he wants so willingly to give to his friend-and-love. ]
... Glad ya like it. I, uh... yeah. It's been a while. Aside from the mutfruits I practiced on. Feels good. Especially cuz ya like it. Hm... think... I wanna go in with a bit more red, and just a touch'a white. Really turn the finesse up to maximum, dig? Couple'a highlights gunna make it pop. That's cool, yeah? You still feelin' alright?
[ Just because it's not strictly necessary that he check in with Nick so much, doesn't mean he shouldn't. Empathy shapes the source as much as the target; it does the ghoul's heart well to worry over his companion, even if he's absently forgetting Nick can just shut off his sensors, again. Despite appearances, Nick just registers as 'human' or 'person' and the ghoul's brain is going to liberally apply empathy, as is the custom. ]
Careful now, I've heard 'em say tattoos are addictive. I stay away from that kinda risk. [ Completely, obviously sarcastic and boldly approving.] Gotta be careful I don't create a monster over here...
[...Ha-ha. Ha. ha. ]
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Date: 2024-05-18 05:57 pm (UTC)Might be too late for me.
[Nick says but, while he employs some humor in that tone, he's dead serious.
Nick had wondered if getting a tattoo would feel like all the rest of the things they engaged in--whether the needles would hit his mesh and just send a bolt of sensation up with every stab. He'd been pretty concerned about needing to turn off his sensor net--but Hancock was too careful. He treated each little series of stabs with considerable forethought and none of them extended down far enough to hit the sensor net, or breech the silicon layer.
Nick hadn't been joking when he said he couldn't feel it, and that was crazy. Sure, he could feel the heat, the coolness of the ink, the pressure when a needle broke the surface and withdrew, but it was no more overwhelming than if someone were drawing a finger up and down his skin.
The real danger, in Nick's case, was that this little detail made his body so much less abstract. He wasn't a collection of parts--that part was his now, it was unique, it was beautiful. It's a strange mental shift to contend with but he knows that he already likes that art more than the bare expanse of silicon it had been before. The idea of doing it to the rest--that is, the rest of him--gave Nick a heady little thrill.]
You do whatever you gotta do, I ain't going anywhere.
less mentally complex tag first!
Date: 2024-05-18 09:19 pm (UTC)Addictions a bitch. Lucky I know a guy that can get ya your fix
[ The ghoul passes his paramour a sunny smirk like summer dusk, hanging on before dark. There's already manic flecks of ink all over the ghoul's fingers, more than a few of his nails stained black by over-exuberant dunks into the pigment.
With a generous go ahead, Hancock continues to embellish his designs with a few more splashes of color. He uses the water to dilute the red into a few different intensities, and employs the sharper shades to draw the eye towards the most interesting speckled gilding. The whites go on last; they don't actually sparkle, but they almost seem to, backlit by the blacks and reds beneath like an artsy demure dusting of powdered sugar or cocaine.
When Hancock finally shifts back into his native reality, he rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. His bones crack in complaint but he looks deeply, exhaustively satisfied. His ink-stained hands brace his own lower back as he stretches, unraveling the shrimp-posture he'd been locked in for the last-- hour, maybe? No, it had felt like a couple of minutes, tops!]
Jesus Nick, why do ya always let me get so carried away? [ It's all sarcastic affection, not an ounce of it a serious complaint. Hancock is smiling softer than before, some mental and emotional drain being the wood on which the fires of his creativity burn. It's a willing trade and it feels splendid, like running a marathon of the mind. ]
But yeah, that's-er done. And I thought ya made my knife-work look professional. Couldn't ask for a better canvas. Guess I might be a little bias, maybe.
:D
Date: 2024-05-18 11:23 pm (UTC)Nick rises more than he pulls Hancock downward, but the end result is the same gentle kiss.]
You're amazing. [It's a standalone compliment, but also a lateral answer to that rhetorical question. He lets Hancock get carried away because when he does? It's always a lightshow.]
That's officially my favorite piece of art now--really, it's damned impressive.
[Nick's not sure how his skin will behave with ink in it, he's never tried anything like this before--but when he stands everything stays lovely and awe-inspiring. He's not sure if healing is the right way to describe it--maybe curing? But he's going to do his damndest to keep this precisely as it is today.]
I'm going to have to find someone with a motorized gun for this, seeing you hunched over for that long--how's your back?
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Date: 2024-05-19 12:07 am (UTC)Yeah, I know [ His usual broiling arrogance is reduced to a low simmer; he's not bashful, but he is touched. He didn't plan to, didn't think it through, but he gave his partner a very special piece of himself, and that was something he'd never, ever done before. ]
Guess now I can officially call ya One of a Kind, huh? Take that, DiMA. Your little brother's got a John Hancock Original [ Nick's genuine appreciation makes it easier than usual to gloat, like clean high class oil in an engine. ]
Lemme know if you want me to hit it with a Repair Kit, cuz I got em. Ya did say I wasn't hurtin' ya, though. Told ya I can be gentle.
[ At Nick's tender concern the ghoul adapts a more worn in shade of confident carelessness; were he a synth, Hancock would be decades into the habit of auto-closing the warning pop-ups that pinged in his system. ]
Neck's kinda stiff. Guess I could'a moved it once or twice.
[ Turning his head back and forth feels like crackling cereal in his neck. Totally worth it though. Pain's a currency he's used to trading in. ]
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Date: 2024-05-19 12:27 am (UTC)You did tell me--[Nick agrees. He'd never doubted Hancock's ability to be gentle, the way he'd swept a finger across Nick's lip that first night in the soda fountain had told Nick all he'd ever need to know about that. But Hancock seemed to doubt it from time to time, so it was worth losing an argument he never had if it reinforced that belief.]--now, what do you say we do a repair kit for me? Get this all sealed up.
Then I try to knock a few of those kinks out of your back. Seems only fair, seeing how you did such a bang up job.
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Date: 2024-05-19 04:53 pm (UTC)Didn't seem like there was much 'damage' to heal, but the restorative tech does recognize the need to seal the open 'pours' of Nick's skin. The ink, not actually causing any damage itself, remains untouched.
Hancock's thumb sweeps soothingly across the point of injection; programmed empathy that serves a different purpose than it's design, but a purpose all the same. ]
You wanna give me a message? A real message? Cuz if you wanna mess around, think we're passed euphemisms now
[ Hancock is aware Nick's offer was genuine; his default setting is anarchy imp. Inwardly the offer blooms some warmth in the ghoul's chest; Nick's empathy is always so sweet, Hancock is not accustomed to being fussed over. He takes what he wants because no one ever handed it to him. Nick is... so different from any, every other soul the ghoul has crossed.
But he's starring, isn't he? Like a love-struck dumb-ass. He catches himself doing it and his smile goes wry and diffident. ]
Ya wanna spoil me I sure ain't gunna bitch about it. Where ya want me, Valentine-of-mine?
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Date: 2024-05-19 05:07 pm (UTC)Yeah, a real massage, genuine and not a metaphor for sex. [Nick clarifies as he reaches for his trousers to pull them back on.]
If you want to have sex later, well, I ain't complaining, but after I knock some of the knots out of your back.
C'mon--
[Nick gestures with one hand toward the stairs and then, with a wink, offers up his elbow to Hancock. It's an old timey gesture, one that suits Nick but is extremely out of place here. Still it's the gesture that counts and if Nick's going to lead the ghoul he loves somewhere else for a massage, he's going to do it politely.]
Steel table's fine for me and tattooing, but we got couches and a bed. We can use whichever you prefer.
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Date: 2024-05-19 07:19 pm (UTC)Then Hancock loops his arm through Nick's with a sprightly smirk, falling into step beside him as they depart the impromptu tattoo studio. ]
Mm... think bed's higher off the floor than the couch. Probably easier on your torque-y bits
[ They transverse the comfortable, ill-defined space between here and there. Cozy moments quickly carry them back to Nick's posh flat. ]
Ya don't gotta fuss ya know, I've had worse pains in the... neck. Givin' me a real taste for your sweetness, watch I don't start callin' you Sugar
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Date: 2024-05-20 04:47 am (UTC)That somethin' you'd really do, or you just joshing me? Calling me Sugar? [Nick looked skeptical as he gestured to the bed. He'd left his coat at the table, but he still slipped out of his shoes in the bedroom, mostly because he could.]
Cause I get the feeling it is--something you'd really do, I mean. [Nick extends the moment by taking the time to undo his cuffs and roll up his shirtsleeves.] But now you got me wondering--that an ironic sort of endearment?
[It's a roundabout way to bring them back to that throwaway comment from hours earlier. It doesn't sit right with Nick that Hancock thinks he's being ironic and, while Nick's hardly the smooth talker Hancock is, he's had quite a while to think on how to discuss it.]
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Date: 2024-05-20 04:40 pm (UTC)[ Hancock answers without a moment of reflection, attention split on varying tasks as he regards the bed. Removing clothing around Nick becomes easier every time he does it, but it won't ever be something that's completely careless. For all his efforts and instincts to avoid serious emotional investment, his clothes sure hold a high spot on his priorities. Fasten your identity to anything and it becomes equally important.
Massages work better without a bulky coat in the way though, so off it goes, tossed upon an accommodating chair. His shirt is thinner, especially sans ruffles on the back, so he opts to leave it, at least for this hot second.
Hancock does opt to kick off his boots before climbing onto the bed proper, though. It's probably only Nick Valentine who gets to see John Hancock cut to the height of John McDonough on the semi-regular, or at all.
Nick keeps chatting on, and Hancock starts to get the feeling is whittling a point.]
For you? Nah, no irony there. You're an actual Sweetheart, got 'rescued damsels' on your resume and everything? Most'a what you do is for other people? Not like... [ Someone who's mouth waters staring too long at cinnamon throat scars? Someone so readily, eagerly sadistic? Someone who has been self destructing in slow motion for decades on end?
Hold on, let's change gears.]
If you're tryin' to sing my praises, I'm all for that music. Already know the tune, mind ya...
[ It's his charisma that activates to form this deflection; clearly, the ghoul's arrogance means he doesn't need someone else to affirm his sheer awesomeness. He knows it without a shadow of a doubt. Right?
... Right? ]
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Date: 2024-05-20 05:10 pm (UTC)Unfortunately for Hancock, the lynchpin to that little evasive manuever is one Nick knows all too well: sincerity. The synth waits for him to finish, waits for that smooth, braggart look that always accompanies his preening, and clucks his tongue.]
You know you're the gentlest person I've ever met?
[That's a crazy statement to make, but Nick's not joking.]
Sure, you get violent, you're dangerous as a junkyard dog, but it's always intentional.
[It's why that interlude in Far Harbor spooked him so badly. John Hancock is about making his own choices, choosing who he is, and that was yanked out from under him by Nick's demands and radiation. Every other time he's seen Hancock lose his cool, indulge in violence, it's either been measured lunacy that Nick could have stopped--or something he'd held off on until permission was granted. He's mercurial, sure, and gentleness and kindness don't always go hand in hand, but Hancock is careful with people in a way that most aren't--in a way that Nick sometimes struggles with, even.]
Can't say I've ever met anybody who consciously chooses what they're about, every moment, every day--except you.
Sweetheart.
AGAIN WITH THE CRITICAL HIT *sniffle*
Date: 2024-05-20 05:49 pm (UTC)Damn, this guy is too good. ]
The hell'd you just call me? [ He sounds questioning of Nick's sanity but still friendly and adoring. ] You sure that ink didn't somehow leak into your main processing? I ain't...
[ But Nick keeps talking-- and Nick Talking is something he's used to heating him up, right? So why is this different? Why does it make him feel like he's falling down the stairs? Disorientated, happy? Thrilled, afraid? No, not afraid, he doesn't do that unless-- cornered? Is that it? But crowded in by something... good?
A lot of that other stuff he says vibes pretty decently with the rhetoric Hancock already accepts about himself; it makes the initial claim easier to swallow. Objectively... yeah, walking himself through it, Hancock does gentle things. He helps people but also hurts people and that all feels kind of... selfish, regardless? Self gratifying? But he can't help being that, can he? No more than Nick can help being a Synth.
Why is everything he fiddles with in his coat, on the chair. Maybe this is part of why he doesn't like taking off his coat. Now what's he supposed to do with his hands? His fingers start to strum restlessly over the duvet. He may as well be wearing a huge neon sign that says 'processing'. ]
... Guess you're entitled to your weird interpretation'a the term
Nick used sincereity, it was super effective! This is very sappy.
Date: 2024-05-20 06:17 pm (UTC)Nick lets him stew in it a moment or two and then, because he loves the ghoul, throws him a familiar lifeline. He's not about to let him wander back into bragging and self depricating humor, so Nick opts instead for treading close to salacious.]
You don't think I let just anybody rough me up, do ya?
[Nick rarely let anyone see beneath his coat, let alone his torso or skin. And with every other person, save Ellie and Piper, Nick rarely offered so much as a handshake. (Normally the other people were happy enough not to touch him, so it was an equitable mutual distate.) With Hancock, well--Nick moves to sit on the bed, near where the ghoul is picking at the duvet.]
I knew from day one of this--thing we got--that I could trust you. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I tap out and it's done. That's rare...and also why I haven't--uh, tapped out that is.
[Nick was tentatively comfortable expanding his horizons and confident that while Hancock might suggest something wild, he'd never press it if Nick resisted. Knowing that made it easier to be comfortable with new debauchery, even the extremes. Because at the end of the day, Hancock would put him back together just the same as Nick would do for him.]
You really want me massaging you through a shirt? [Nick was curious but not particularly opposed, despite the way he eyed the fabric. Jokingly, he adds:] Five hours of partial nudity turned you into me, huh?
IT IS */right in the feels*
Date: 2024-05-20 08:30 pm (UTC)[ The Trust of Nick Valentine is not a weightless thing; sometimes its easier seeing your own value through someone else's eyes. He glances to the side as Nick sits next to him, falling into that familiar motion of bumping shoulders in affection. He lapses into quiet listening, running over Nick's words in his mind, rechecking the math. ]
Yeah, basic understanding of consent ain't-- [ but he clips himself short, catching the impulse for self-depreciation as it manifests. Okay, okay. Nick is trying to communicate something important here, something dear to him. Hancock shuts himself up and listens some more.
The teasing actually causes the ghoul to kiss his teeth, but it's a short and sweet sound compared to the way he can make it drag and drawl when he's inclined. He's smirking when he says:]
Always takes a little extra to get me outta my clothing, as one guy with that penchant to another, I figure ya get it
[ It's more honesty in an answer than someone else would win, a straightforward explanation as one can get from a guy with such a silver tongue. The ghoul goes popping buttons though, shrugging off the age-worn fabric. ]
But you ain't just anyone, Nick. Don't know much, I sure as hell know that.
[ aaaand now Nick is getting a crumpled shirt flung into his face. ]
The juxtaposition here. We did it again. A++ work. Sorry for short :x
Date: 2024-05-20 09:16 pm (UTC)Yeah, apparently I'm your laundry guy. [His tone is irreverant, or as irreverant as Nick gets, and in a rare show of casual ease, Nick just tosses the crumpled shirt behind him onto the floor.]
Alright, lie down for me and let me get to work already.
I KNOW honestly how are we so amazing? No worries! Pacing sometimes, amirite?
Date: 2024-05-20 10:09 pm (UTC)Thoughts he needs more drugs for, to be honest.
But drugs are not on the bed, and on the bed is where he is, so he's just going to have to take a loving massage from his boyfriend as consolation, poor king zombie. The man characteristically lounges, cat-like, Kingpin-akin, and lays on his stomach with his arms boxed beneath his head. Laying as such, he can twist his gaze to Nick behind him, for no other reason than casual observation. ]
All yours, Valentine-of-mine. Do your worst [ an affectionate, demure invitation. ]
Hmmm hope this works. :\b
Date: 2024-05-21 02:20 am (UTC)With the heels of his hands, Nick can put broad, solid pressure against the knots along his spine. The first hard press of his hands up from Hancock's lower back to his neck pops the ghoul's spine like a zipper. Nick feels, remarkably, like he's rolling out dough and, with that main pressure abated, the synth starts working on the muscles of his upper back.]
👍👍👍
Date: 2024-05-21 02:56 am (UTC)A sigh flows out of him as those firm palm-heels roll up his back, crinkling the knots in his muscles. It's definitely a pleasurable sensation, but of a different sort than the carnal variety Hancock is so used to feeling from the hands of his partner. More Sweet, less Heat. Also, he did not know his spine could make noises like that. ]
Mmm... gunna turn me into a man'a god, all prayers that your temptin' outta me
[ Hancock stretches his shoulders beneath the kneading pressure along his upper back, sighing in extreme contentment. ]
You're a Detective, why? You could make a killin' doing this to folk... and instead, you're all mine... fate's so unfair [ it is not an actual complaint in the least.]
my sleepy is showing I think
Date: 2024-05-21 03:43 am (UTC)Bein a detective's got better hours. [It absolutely does not. Nick just can't come up with a clever deflection for that compliment--complaint? Compli-ain't?]
Also I get a hat and a gun.
[Nick tries to be firm while Hancock's still melting into a relaxed puddle. He doesn't want his touch too featherlight, not considering how rarely the ghoul has his back exposed. Nick's own skin beneath the clothes is far too sensitive, just by disuse. Hancock's balancing that out a bit, but it's still a transition and, as he said, this is something they share.
After a few minutes knocking the big swaths of tightness down, Nick moves on to the little knots. Hard to tell what's stress and what's just on account of being a ghoul, but Nick goes systematically from his neck toward his sacrum. It doesn't hurt that the synth enjoys just...having the freedom to touch, or just mapping Hancock's skin.]
looks lovely from this angle but if your bed is callin ya... (mine is lol)
Date: 2024-05-21 05:14 am (UTC)[ Somehow Hancock still has the presence of mind for some ribbing, via poking holes in Nick's imaginary job complaints. Seems like the proper amount of pain in the ass to be, considering the guy got a whole damn tattoo without breaking a sweat. Not that it's an option. Still! ]
Also ya got a hat and a gun now, doncha? I'm not seein' a whole lotta solid evidence here... think we could'a found your new calling, if I wasn't so damn happy to have you all to myself
[ Accidentally a bit of a loaded statement; he doesn't mean anything substantial by it. Not beyond this moment in time... he likes the idea of staking a claim (obviously, Mr. Tattoo Artist over here) but also, he believes too much in personal freedom to mean anything restrictive by his jesting claim (or even, his more serious affections).
The skin of his back doesn't get much sun but it's not the most explosive expanse of nerves mapped across his body. All in all it seems as though his neck carries the most tension from where he had bunched his shoulders, as well as his lower-back, from the way he'd pretzeled his legs beneath him for the duration of that tattoo. ]
Better cut this shit out Nick [ The Exact Opposite, he means, all drawling affection. ] gunna get me so strung up I'm not gunna know what to do without ya... [ The words roll out on a contented sigh as the ghoul's eyes lightly settle shut. He's not sleeping-- not even sleepy, thank you! He's just terribly relaxed at the center of Nick's attention. ]
Swapping from Kellogg to this surprisingly tricky.
Date: 2024-05-22 01:33 am (UTC)[It's an equally loaded response, but true, and said with besotted, put upon affectation. Hancock's neck is the worst--well, no, his lower back and ass are the worst but Nick's not sure he can get the ghoul to allow that without this turning into sex. He's not opposed, but Nick's mother henning hasn't been satisfied just yet.
So, Nick leans over and works on his shoulders and neck, fingers digging into the tender spots where the scapulas slide and in the parts where the trapezius cards into the back muscles. He's not the most skilled massues but what Nick lacks in finesse he compensates for by not tiring out. His hands can't get fatigued and they don't vary in pressure or speed unless he's doing it, so like everything else, he can just keep going as long as it takes.
Doesn't take much brainpower, though, so it's real easy to fall into a daydream laden daze. Hancock's a contented puddle under his fingers and Nick's doing his damndest to keep him that way. He's tempted to rib Hancock back, keep that little exchange going, but the quiet is nice.]
the way I inwardly cackled writing this
Date: 2024-05-22 01:52 am (UTC)No Hancock don't do itbut having a synth boyfriend is the absolute best; really, he's just not seeing a downside here. ]I don't think I know a cuss sacred enough for this feeling
[ His murmur is just a little pleasure-slurred. He doesn't mind the quiet, he's just inclined to chatter, especially when he's happy. And happy he most certainly is. It's not the type of pleasure Hancock usually chases... healthy pleasure, where's the fun in that? Well, the fun is here, apparently. ]
You... you are officially Too Good. For Me, For This, For the whole damn town. Imm'a make a damn civic holiday in honor'a this backrub
[ You've seen Burrito Ghoul, now you have Puddle Ghoul. ]
LMAO The healthy kind, I love it.
From::D
From:This is the most OCD massage I have ever written and it is sending me.
From:we've been calling ourselves out this whole time no worries dude 🤣🤣🤣
From:Please enjoy this absurd statement.
From:This RP has some GOLDEN quotes for real
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From:MY GLASSES LITIRALLY FOGGED UP WTFFFFFF
From:MINE TOO. (Also Nick just. Really enjoys sucking dick. He would cockwarm 1000%.)
From:DAMN WEATHER FOGGING OUR GLASSES 🥵🥵🥵sum1 should fund that >>;;
From:*Adds it to the list*
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From:Oh man the poetry ;u;
From:I KNOW the opposing mirrors we make of scenes just ✨✨✨💖💖💖✨✨✨
From:RIGHT. Sorry for the slowness there, my brain can't words so good yet.
From:Shush you every tag is precious <3 one, two, ten, it's all gold
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From:~End?
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