#yapping;

"He's flaking, he's not flaking. He's flaking. He's not flaking." Foggy's busy at his desk shaking a cup of used (but clean!) popsicle sticks that have yes or no written on the end. He's trying to see if Matt's even coming in today. He didn't get a text last night which means DareDevil duties got away from him again. One stick finally falls out of the cup and he leans over to see what it says. "Yes—he's flaking." He leans back, groaning. "Karen, we gotta pull a double duty today. I don't think Matt's—coming in early," he yells out his door for her to hear.

Foggy's eating his usual sandwich from the food cart across their building, the tomato dangerously close to flopping out and smearing mayo and mustard everywhere on his desk. "I don't miss getting paid in chickens and crates of fruit," he's chomping away, dapping his lips with a napkin,"but boy, can I go for some kimchi right about now."

my ears won't get infected if i stretch too fast because i'm pure of heart

they just banned my freaking instagram account hello. how am i going to threaten to beat my bf now 😔