How do I disinfect it? Harper, I really want it.
“I don’t know, Gulliver, I don’t know magic.”

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How do I disinfect it? Harper, I really want it.
“I don’t know, Gulliver, I don’t know magic.”
“And what do people consider fun that obeys the rules?”
“By people do you mean you or me? Because I imagine we have very different ideas of fun.”
bjingallnightlong:
“What are we supposed to do for fun until Christmas now? Blimey this year has been boring.”
“I mean, you could make fun that doesn’t have to do with a holiday.”
“Oh. I guess y’havent. I didn’ notice.”
“Well, I think y'look fine, if it counts for anything, which, honestly, prob’ly shouldn’t, but.”
“Oh. Really? Well, it does..”
But it was just right here. I’ve been here a lot of times, it’s okay.
It just looks like a really good muffin that doesn’t want to be wasted.
It looks like a muffin that has probably gathered lots of bacteria.
Right, yeah. Duh. Wanna split it?
You don’t know where that’s been! It could be poisonous, or something.
This wasn’t yours, was it? Found it over there.
"I don’t just leave muffins lying around, Gully.”
“Hey wanna blow my balloon?” BJ asked, waggling his brows as he lifted the mouth piece of the giant red deflated balloon he’d stuck to the front of his black onesie.
“Um.. I don’t really want to.”
“Why would I be doing that?”
“Because, I know I look bad. I haven’t put on any makeup.”
“Sorry, Storm, that.. Came out wrong. I look like garbage, is what I meant.”
“I think you look… not– not like garbage.”
“I mean, not ‘not not’ like garbage, ‘cause that’d be a double negative, but y-you get what I mean. You look better than garbage.”
"Storm, you don't have to be nice for the sake of my feelings, or anything. It's fine."
“Oh, s-sorry.”
“Sorry, Storm, that.. Came out wrong. I look like garbage, is what I meant.”
Are you, like, okay?
“I’m just really tired. And.. A little homesick, but don’t tell anyone that.”
Well–Anything.
“Oh.. Well that’s a relief.”
Lance immediately clapped a hand over his eyes. “Better? Will you talk to me now?”
“Are we talking about a friend thing or a prefect thing?”
“Harp you look fine, stop fretting.”
“And at least you don’t have a bruise the size of a bludger on your thigh.”
“I might as well with the dark circles under my eyes..”
“Did you turn into Medusa over night? If that’s the case I won’t. Rather not turn to stone before I can get outta here.”
“Ugh, probably.”
“God, don’t even look at me, OK?”