#oof. ouch

[tourdeflop]

giulio lost 18 minutessss omg 😭😭

[angie-long-legs]

*SLAMS EVERY ‘STOP PUTTING YOURSELF INTO DANGER!’ PROMPT INTO YOUR ASK BOX BECAUSE MOOOOOOOOLLY’S SAID IT ALL* /jk

"i'm sitting here, worried out of my mind, while you're out doing god knows what."

"Dai, non comimciare, per favore... Here we fucking go..."

It wasn't the first time that Angel had returned home in the early hours of the morning to find his sister waiting for him, fraught and nervous; steadily unravelling like a ball of yarn. Their rocky history was marked by nights like these: Anthony stumbling through the door, high as a kite and barely coherent; and, more recently, Angel Dust creeping into the lobby with the hopes that no one had noticed his absence, clothes torn and bloodied, his expression laced with guilt.

It wasn't the first fight they'd had over the matter, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Angel pinched the bridge of his nose, resting heavily on the back of the sofa to keep himself steady. It didn't really matter if he tried to make himself look more sober than he was - Molly knew he was fucked up. Molly always knew.

But what right did she have to pry into his personal life?! All Angel wanted was a break from the bullshit, from everything that hurt when he thought about it too long. Was that really so bad? Didn't he deserve a little fun?

Molly didn't need to know that it had stopped being just for fun a long, long time ago.

Molly knew whether he said it or not.

The same fight they always had, on repeat until the end of time.

"I've said it before, an' I'll say it again: it ain't none a' ya fucking business what I do on my own time! It's not like I'm lookin' fa trouble!" Angel hissed, hands gesticulating sloppily before gesturing emphatically at his own chest.

"Ya really gonna pin this shit on me?! Like it's my fault Hell is full a' creeps that don't know how ta keep their hands ta themselves?! I'm fuckin' fine, Molly!"

Everything about Angel, from his roughed-up presence to his spiteful demeanour, screamed otherwise.

He didn't want to talk about it. Not to Molly. Not to anyone.

All four arms folded across his body, Angel turned his back on his sister, head hung low.

"So quit worryin' about me. I've got this shit handled."

[orange-dreamzer]

coffee. ,. x_x

[seacrestseacon]

how do you need to be touched?

Your Result: cautiously. your teeth are bared, as they have been, your jaw aching for so long as growls slip free. you always have to defend yourself. you lash out in fear. you need someone who does not shrink back... a hand falling slowly to your shoulder, however briefly, in a reminder that you do not have to lunge. there is no danger here, now.

Stolen from

@galacticdealer

Tagging:

@dragvnsovl @tipsyteebs @springingfromnothing @cliff-and-the-kid