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What can I say? My angst-o-meter is running low on melancholy and woe- I’ll have to go torture some more puppies and pluck flies’ wings for next time.
I felt the urge to fling my loosely tied hair back and tell Ian to “hold ma hoops gurlfriend” whilst I savaged Potter to death, but I didn’t. Because I have no energy in the morning and Potter would most definitely pummel me to death.
You know you’re in trouble when Ian’s leading the way out of danger.
Holding onto your mother out of choice; only when in enemy territory
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