[ Ew... It's kinda giving wannabe Joker. Lottie doesn't hide the frown at the design when she sees it, instead crossing her own arms in mild appraisal (she's seen enough — she's just being needlessly polite when she doesn't have to be). ]
That, I know. [ She walks a few steps towards him, eyes squinting. ] How long has it been like this??
[ Maybe they can fix it? But before she can even suggest it, let alone float the thought, there's a knock knock at his door. Then a ding dong, the tell tale sign of his doorbell, that prompts Lottie to look away from his blaster and towards the door. Did he double book!? Uh.. What the hell, rude? She doesn't say anything, just furrows her brows and looks back towards him — completely expectant on him to explain. ]
[ Why does she think he kept the blaster mouth-side down? It's creepy even by his standards which are quite high after everything he's been through here. Which is to say if Lottie hadn't thought it was weird that's when he'd be worried. ]
A couple of weeks.
[ Not very long. And aside from that he really doesn't have an answer for her. Thankfully before she can ask anything further the knock at the door surprises them both. He can feel the furrow of her brow without even looking at her which is mostly why he doesn't as he goes to the door and finds - a stranger. Dressed all in pink with silly little cherub-style wings to boot. ]
Yes?
[ Mister Cassian? Candygram for you - ]
A candygram?
[ Yes, sir. A box of candy and a note are passed into his hands along with a flourish of confetti to boot. Before Cassian can say anything else the courier scurries away leaving him a little befuddled and with confetti in his hair. After a moment he shuts it turning back towards Lottie. ]
She totally forgot about that. What did they say? If a customer isn't satisfied, a double delivery is a double guarantee! Fuck!! Well, at least now she knows he's getting them (and she probably had little reason to be mad at the couriers.. Oops!). For once, she doesn't look too suspicious, the surprise of her candygram actually being in his hands taking over.
The note reads as follows:
"𝐿𝒾𝒻𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝑜 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉!
𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀, '𝒸𝓊𝓏 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊?"
It's hilariously simple compared to the initial candygram she agonized over for hours. Like someone still wanting to try but being too burnt out on prose to do more than edit a pre-set poem. Lottie, herself, can barely remember what she put because of it— only hopes it isn't too cringe inducing as she walks closer. ]
Oohhhh.. Popular, huh?
[ What the hell does she even mean by this. Who else would send him a candygram other than her?
[ His eyes scan the note as he makes his way back over to her, still completely oblivious to the fact that she might be the mysterious sender. ]
'Cuz better for you?'
[ His mouth twists a little as he tries to make sense of the message. Was the intent to have it rhyme? ]
I don't know about popular.
[ Admittedly he had wondered where the others had gone. Even the slips of paper with the messages on them had mysteriously disappeared too. But he had a good enough memory to know that the handwriting was the same. Unbeknownst to him, each other candygrams had been written by the people preparing them - otherwise he probably would have recognized her handwriting.
He offers the note and the candy to her, all while completely unaware that the blaster laying between them had begun to shift. ]
[ You know what. Being a good writer late at night is hard Cassian! And also, being cursed with sloppy handwriting to transcribe isn't easy, either!! She hides the embarrassment through a hand to her face, promptly ignoring the way her cheeks color gentle in the seconds following (any other day it'd be weird, but nice, to have him read her work— now it's just torture) . ]
Well..
[ She takes it, glances down at it and him. Is this him saying he hands her goodies to anyone nearby? That he doesn't care? Cassian.. You're so hard to read. She adjusts her hold on them, finally eyes the note and cringes in real time.
Not her best. ]
Only popular people get free stuff. I should know— that's how a lot of my sponsorships went.
[ Except they're usually accompanied by a far more well written post.. She turns towards the door, specifically eyeing the floor. Equally oblivious to the transformation happening beside them— ]
Anyway, should we clean the confetti? I can't believe they just do that and don't even clean.. Rude.
[ On any other day he would take being hard to read as a compliment. He is, after all in the business of being difficult to read and in some cases, unremarkable and forgettable. The former isn't his intention and the latter, well, there's no use for it here.
He's really just trying to offer her the candy because he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth himself and honestly, she's his guest. Isn't offering guests something to eat what a good host does? If her cringe is anything to go off of, maybe it isn't. The man can't win. ]
Except someone paid to send this to me.
[ There's a clear distinction that he's trying to make. Mostly because he doesn't want to be popular. Ever.
Lottie calling attention to the confetti however is actually a good point. His gaze turns and he goes to fetch the broom and dust pan, under no illusion that when she says "we", she means "him". ]
I doubt that's in their job description.
[ Meanwhile with their backs turned, the seam of the blaster's mouth begins to unfurl, teeth becoming more pronounced, tongue lolling out as its left with the candygram Lottie had turned down. ]
[ On any other day, he should. It's something Lottie, herself, wishes she could master (being aloof on the internet? More profitable than you think!!). But when she's being handed her own order? It manages to only confuse her.
Still, it is what a good host does, but being a good host in this scenario unfortunately does not include re-gifting a candy she bought for him — which, still free! She pointedly emphasizes this with a raise of her brow as he grabs the broom, happy he understood the underlying meaning of "we". Now, that is a good host.
She watches him, content from the side of the countertop. ]
It should be. This stuff is everywhere!
[ If she knew they were doing that every time she would've made a point to opt out of it. That's probably why it's so expensive to begin with... ]
Frankly irresponsi— ... Oh?? Eugghh.
[ In the seconds she's made herself comfy on the smooth tile of the countertop, her elbow angled itself right juuust enough to land in the growing puddle of drool dripping out of the blaster's mouth. It comically smacks its lips (?) in anticipation of its new treat, edging forward towards the candygram with teeth gleaning and sharp. Lottie turns just in time to barely pull her elbow back, too transfixed at what the hell she's looking at to jump away, even as her heart stills. ]
[ Quietly, he agrees. But somehow, in this instance, it feels better to try and defend the hapless gig worker than grumble about the lack of clean up after they had so rudely scattered confetti in what had been a confetti-less apartment moments before. If they came back again however with confetti they might find him in a less forgiving mood. ]
What?
[ And then he turns and sees the answer to his question.
His blaster. Somehow crawling its way towards the candygram that he'd left on the table drooling as it does. It seems he's just as shocked into stillness as his mind tries to comprehend what his blaster is doing moving let alone suddenly sprouting a mouth. ]
[ Stop standing there all dumbfounded and— god, she has no idea what she wants here. The scrapping mouth across the counter sounds to stop? The drool on her elbow to not feel so icky? Some guidance on whether this is dinosaur rules with his blaster and she can stay still or move? Cassian!! ]
This is your house!!
[ Said in a hush, like any louder might upset the creature between them. ]
His words are equally hushed but no less indignant as he watches with a mixture of fascinated bewilderment and horror. And it's due to that curiosity that he allows this to go on. To watch as the mimic-blaster reaches the candygram, stretches its maw wide before devouring the letter and the candy in one fell swoop.
It would be impressive were it not for the fact that his blaster shouldn't be able to do that.
That's when he snaps his attention back to her, motioning for her to step back and out of the way before he slowly begins to approach it. How does someone subdue a blaster with a mouth on it? Apparently he's about to try and figure that one out. ]
[ Lottie watches in horror as she stumbles back, almost tripping over herself in the process of rushing behind him. It's — it's eating them.. Her hand shakes, bewildered. That's whats been happening?? In a daze, she grabs the discarded broom behind them. Wields it in front of her like she may do something stupid with it. ]
Cassian— [ Then, louder— ] Cassian, get it back!
[ Spray chemicals on it or.. Something!! Anything! That was twenty five dollars!!
(His gun has been eating her shit this whole time?? A guns been effectively blocking their reunion?? Why! Does it hate her? Was it because of the kiss?? How has he not noticed!!) ]
[ Cassian reaches the same conclusion that Lottie does: this is where all of his candygrams had been going. Objectively this will be very funny later when he recounts this to Amos. But that "later" will be much later because right now he has to figure out what to do with a semi-sentient blaster and what the hell he's going to do with it after this. ]
I'm not going to make it throw up!
[ Mostly because that's a lot of slobber and he has a feeling that the candy (and the message) are already being dissolved in whatever digestive system it has sprouted.
But he does grab a hold of it by the handle. Which it doesn't seem to like very much. The barrel of the blaster attempts to bend angrily as if reaching back to snap at him but thankfully the confines of the structure prevent it from doing so. ]
[ Jesus. Christ. He's going to get killed and it's all her fault!! Lottie watches in abject horror and pure fascination as his gun tries to eat him (wow, metaphor much?). Her grip on the broom slacks in her stupor, staying silent as it snaps its teeth at Cassian almost personally. ]
Uh—
[ She jumps in place, almost as if she thinks his idea is stupid and maybe clobbering the gun would be a better idea. But his hand is in the way so she simply goes, ] Fuck, [ and promptly drops the broom. Lets it clatter to the ground loudly as she rushes to the cabinet beneath the sink. ]
Which one??
[ There's one in each hand — it seems like she's grabbed the only two spray bottles she could find and is woefully unsure of which he wants. She stumbles closer regardless, enough to feel safe but also spray at a good distance. ]
[ Between the two she's picked, one is going to be more irritating to the eyes if she happens to catch him in the crossfire. ]
Any of them!
[ This time his voice pitches as the gun stretches in an almost comical way towards him. The blaster's tongue drags against the skin of his hand and he almost shudders involuntarily in disgust. Somehow the blaster seems to take Great Offence to this and almost seems to double down.
It gnashes its teeth, one of them scraping the back of his knuckle as it snarls like some outraged dog. As much as he'd like to think that Lottie has chosen one and not given into indecision he can't tell because he's a little preoccupied at the moment. ]
[ Lottie screams. Because Cassian is going to die and it's all her fault, all because she can't be normal and send a text, let alone make a life changing decision like which spray she'll use to put his blaster down. It's when those canines scrape his knuckles does she finally act, brain going blissfully quiet even as her poor heart spikes loud and fast. Trembling inside her chest as she just— fires both at him.
At— at the gun.
Maybe, some of the spray hits him as collateral because she stops looking halfway out of pure fear of seeing something terrible happen to someone she actually likes. ]
[ Fortunately he isn't going to die. Not today, not here in his new(ish) apartment, and not at the hands of his own blaster. The mimic's fangs thankfully don't find much purchase, but they do scrape the skin, black blood beginning to stream slowly from the cut. It's superficial enough that Cassian doesn't feel it as he continues to wrestle the damn thing.
At least until Lottie sprays what is a foaming cleaning solution at them.
The mimic snarls almost like a cat and Cassian lets out his own grunt at being sprayed even if he knows it's a minor inconvenience given the situation they're in. Thankfully that seems to be enough to startle the blaster and Cassian has enough sense in him to try and stuff it back into its holster.
Trapped in the leather casing, it has a much harder time gnawing or gnashing - though Cassian has a sneaking suspicion that it's likely to find its way out of there sooner rather than later. His chest heaves as he holds it down on the kitchen counter, covered slightly in cleaning solution. ]
[ She recoils almost instantly at the sound, goosebumps raising at her skin. What the hell, this is so weird. Just as weird as the mannequins, vaguely less menacing, except— it can eat. It tried to eat Cassian, his black blood trickling down his skin. He could get an infection. Her eyes follow his hand, tracks the distant smear of blood on him and watches how he struggles to hold the blaster in its holster.
Her own distantly shake from the adrenaline as she just, drops the sprays. Lets them fall to the floor because she simply forgets there's a counter right beside her in her stupor. Forcing all her concentration on what he's saying to her despite the ever manic jostle of the gun in his hold— ]
Uh huh. Yes. Yes!!
[ Lottie rushes off in the direction of the only hallway in his new(ish) apartment and lucks out with the only unlocked door (his) as her first try. Cassian's room is— well, she didn't ever think she'd see his room, so conceptualizing it in her mind has been far from her to-do list. It's very boy. If she ignores the pump of blood rushing to her ears she'd realize it kinda smells like him.
(Oh, fuck. That's kinda weird. She needs to forget she ever thought that, fuck!)
It's a minute she's gone and a few seconds after she returns, emerging with a tastefully practical brown belt in her hands. She hands it over, ]
Does this work? I—I just kinda picked the thickest one with the most holes??
[ What she would have run into is undeniably a man's bedroom. Or rather a man who doesn't do much in there aside from sleep. Even with the lack of stuff, it's clean and yes, does smell like him. But whether or not she notices it there's also a corner of the room that has a shelf filled with grow lights and plants. Plants that look incredibly well cared for.
Not that he's thinking about her being in his room or what she might think of seeing his room and the lack of personal effects in there. He's a little preoccupied at the moment. ]
Yes, yes - here!
[ And he's quick to grab it from her, working quickly to wrap it once, twice, three times around the holstered mimic. He ties it off as best as he can and waits - because what else is there to do but wait and see if that's enough?
When several tense moment pass without the holster shaking or snarling he finally lets go and lets out a ragged sigh. ]
...That explains where all the other candygrams went.
[ But not who it was from. Though, now that most of the panic is over, it is a little strange that Lottie reacted the way she did to the candygram, isn't it?
[ Unfortunately, she missed it. If there's another mysterious sentient blaster that needs strapping down she absolutely would, would feel in awe and also find him: adorably layered (much like the belt looped around the holster, the mimic settling down in the dark).
And it's like a breath of fresh air when it's completely silent, all that tension and panic simply stopping just as the mimic does. But Cassian's sigh breaks the careful, almost hopeful, bubble Lottie's built around them, her lips pressing together as she suppresses a weird little laugh. Not because all her money being ate by his stupid gun is funny, because it isn't, at all, it's just— ]
Seriously?
[ That explains where all the other candygrams went? He didn't bother like, searching or calling the company? Lottie sent at least 5, not including the complementary ones they sent for her when she complained too much. Oh god, he's so stupid. Thank god she didn't find him dead via mimic (would his roommate tell her? Not like next of kin but like, bestie stuff?). She's never spending another cent on him! ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
That, I know. [ She walks a few steps towards him, eyes squinting. ] How long has it been like this??
[ Maybe they can fix it? But before she can even suggest it, let alone float the thought, there's a knock knock at his door. Then a ding dong, the tell tale sign of his doorbell, that prompts Lottie to look away from his blaster and towards the door. Did he double book!? Uh.. What the hell, rude? She doesn't say anything, just furrows her brows and looks back towards him — completely expectant on him to explain. ]
no subject
A couple of weeks.
[ Not very long. And aside from that he really doesn't have an answer for her. Thankfully before she can ask anything further the knock at the door surprises them both. He can feel the furrow of her brow without even looking at her which is mostly why he doesn't as he goes to the door and finds - a stranger. Dressed all in pink with silly little cherub-style wings to boot. ]
Yes?
[ Mister Cassian? Candygram for you - ]
A candygram?
[ Yes, sir. A box of candy and a note are passed into his hands along with a flourish of confetti to boot. Before Cassian can say anything else the courier scurries away leaving him a little befuddled and with confetti in his hair. After a moment he shuts it turning back towards Lottie. ]
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She totally forgot about that. What did they say? If a customer isn't satisfied, a double delivery is a double guarantee! Fuck!! Well, at least now she knows he's getting them (and she probably had little reason to be mad at the couriers.. Oops!). For once, she doesn't look too suspicious, the surprise of her candygram actually being in his hands taking over.
The note reads as follows:
It's hilariously simple compared to the initial candygram she agonized over for hours. Like someone still wanting to try but being too burnt out on prose to do more than edit a pre-set poem. Lottie, herself, can barely remember what she put because of it— only hopes it isn't too cringe inducing as she walks closer. ]
Oohhhh.. Popular, huh?
[ What the hell does she even mean by this. Who else would send him a candygram other than her?
(His roommate? ... "Roommate"? No— Lottie, stop!!) ]
Even I haven't got one of these.. Whose it from?
no subject
'Cuz better for you?'
[ His mouth twists a little as he tries to make sense of the message. Was the intent to have it rhyme? ]
I don't know about popular.
[ Admittedly he had wondered where the others had gone. Even the slips of paper with the messages on them had mysteriously disappeared too. But he had a good enough memory to know that the handwriting was the same. Unbeknownst to him, each other candygrams had been written by the people preparing them - otherwise he probably would have recognized her handwriting.
He offers the note and the candy to her, all while completely unaware that the blaster laying between them had begun to shift. ]
They didn't sign it.
no subject
Well..
[ She takes it, glances down at it and him. Is this him saying he hands her goodies to anyone nearby? That he doesn't care? Cassian.. You're so hard to read. She adjusts her hold on them, finally eyes the note and cringes in real time.
Not her best. ]
Only popular people get free stuff. I should know— that's how a lot of my sponsorships went.
[ Except they're usually accompanied by a far more well written post.. She turns towards the door, specifically eyeing the floor. Equally oblivious to the transformation happening beside them— ]
Anyway, should we clean the confetti? I can't believe they just do that and don't even clean.. Rude.
no subject
He's really just trying to offer her the candy because he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth himself and honestly, she's his guest. Isn't offering guests something to eat what a good host does? If her cringe is anything to go off of, maybe it isn't. The man can't win. ]
Except someone paid to send this to me.
[ There's a clear distinction that he's trying to make. Mostly because he doesn't want to be popular. Ever.
Lottie calling attention to the confetti however is actually a good point. His gaze turns and he goes to fetch the broom and dust pan, under no illusion that when she says "we", she means "him". ]
I doubt that's in their job description.
[ Meanwhile with their backs turned, the seam of the blaster's mouth begins to unfurl, teeth becoming more pronounced, tongue lolling out as its left with the candygram Lottie had turned down. ]
no subject
Still, it is what a good host does, but being a good host in this scenario unfortunately does not include re-gifting a candy she bought for him — which, still free! She pointedly emphasizes this with a raise of her brow as he grabs the broom, happy he understood the underlying meaning of "we". Now, that is a good host.
She watches him, content from the side of the countertop. ]
It should be. This stuff is everywhere!
[ If she knew they were doing that every time she would've made a point to opt out of it. That's probably why it's so expensive to begin with... ]
Frankly irresponsi— ... Oh?? Eugghh.
[ In the seconds she's made herself comfy on the smooth tile of the countertop, her elbow angled itself right juuust enough to land in the growing puddle of drool dripping out of the blaster's mouth. It comically smacks its lips (?) in anticipation of its new treat, edging forward towards the candygram with teeth gleaning and sharp. Lottie turns just in time to barely pull her elbow back, too transfixed at what the hell she's looking at to jump away, even as her heart stills. ]
no subject
What?
[ And then he turns and sees the answer to his question.
His blaster. Somehow crawling its way towards the candygram that he'd left on the table drooling as it does. It seems he's just as shocked into stillness as his mind tries to comprehend what his blaster is doing moving let alone suddenly sprouting a mouth. ]
What the fuck?
no subject
[ Stop standing there all dumbfounded and— god, she has no idea what she wants here. The scrapping mouth across the counter sounds to stop? The drool on her elbow to not feel so icky? Some guidance on whether this is dinosaur rules with his blaster and she can stay still or move? Cassian!! ]
This is your house!!
[ Said in a hush, like any louder might upset the creature between them. ]
no subject
[ That much is very obvious though.
His words are equally hushed but no less indignant as he watches with a mixture of fascinated bewilderment and horror. And it's due to that curiosity that he allows this to go on. To watch as the mimic-blaster reaches the candygram, stretches its maw wide before devouring the letter and the candy in one fell swoop.
It would be impressive were it not for the fact that his blaster shouldn't be able to do that.
That's when he snaps his attention back to her, motioning for her to step back and out of the way before he slowly begins to approach it. How does someone subdue a blaster with a mouth on it? Apparently he's about to try and figure that one out. ]
no subject
Cassian— [ Then, louder— ] Cassian, get it back!
[ Spray chemicals on it or.. Something!! Anything! That was twenty five dollars!!
(His gun has been eating her shit this whole time?? A guns been effectively blocking their reunion?? Why! Does it hate her? Was it because of the kiss?? How has he not noticed!!) ]
Make it throw up!!
no subject
I'm not going to make it throw up!
[ Mostly because that's a lot of slobber and he has a feeling that the candy (and the message) are already being dissolved in whatever digestive system it has sprouted.
But he does grab a hold of it by the handle. Which it doesn't seem to like very much. The barrel of the blaster attempts to bend angrily as if reaching back to snap at him but thankfully the confines of the structure prevent it from doing so. ]
Get the spray bottle - under the sink!
no subject
Uh—
[ She jumps in place, almost as if she thinks his idea is stupid and maybe clobbering the gun would be a better idea. But his hand is in the way so she simply goes, ] Fuck, [ and promptly drops the broom. Lets it clatter to the ground loudly as she rushes to the cabinet beneath the sink. ]
Which one??
[ There's one in each hand — it seems like she's grabbed the only two spray bottles she could find and is woefully unsure of which he wants. She stumbles closer regardless, enough to feel safe but also spray at a good distance. ]
no subject
Any of them!
[ This time his voice pitches as the gun stretches in an almost comical way towards him. The blaster's tongue drags against the skin of his hand and he almost shudders involuntarily in disgust. Somehow the blaster seems to take Great Offence to this and almost seems to double down.
It gnashes its teeth, one of them scraping the back of his knuckle as it snarls like some outraged dog. As much as he'd like to think that Lottie has chosen one and not given into indecision he can't tell because he's a little preoccupied at the moment. ]
Lottie!
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At— at the gun.
Maybe, some of the spray hits him as collateral because she stops looking halfway out of pure fear of seeing something terrible happen to someone she actually likes. ]
no subject
At least until Lottie sprays what is a foaming cleaning solution at them.
The mimic snarls almost like a cat and Cassian lets out his own grunt at being sprayed even if he knows it's a minor inconvenience given the situation they're in. Thankfully that seems to be enough to startle the blaster and Cassian has enough sense in him to try and stuff it back into its holster.
Trapped in the leather casing, it has a much harder time gnawing or gnashing - though Cassian has a sneaking suspicion that it's likely to find its way out of there sooner rather than later. His chest heaves as he holds it down on the kitchen counter, covered slightly in cleaning solution. ]
Go grab one of my belts. In my room.
no subject
Her own distantly shake from the adrenaline as she just, drops the sprays. Lets them fall to the floor because she simply forgets there's a counter right beside her in her stupor. Forcing all her concentration on what he's saying to her despite the ever manic jostle of the gun in his hold— ]
Uh huh. Yes. Yes!!
[ Lottie rushes off in the direction of the only hallway in his new(ish) apartment and lucks out with the only unlocked door (his) as her first try. Cassian's room is— well, she didn't ever think she'd see his room, so conceptualizing it in her mind has been far from her to-do list. It's very boy. If she ignores the pump of blood rushing to her ears she'd realize it kinda smells like him.
(Oh, fuck. That's kinda weird. She needs to forget she ever thought that, fuck!)
It's a minute she's gone and a few seconds after she returns, emerging with a tastefully practical brown belt in her hands. She hands it over, ]
Does this work? I—I just kinda picked the thickest one with the most holes??
🎀🥺 wrap soon?
Not that he's thinking about her being in his room or what she might think of seeing his room and the lack of personal effects in there. He's a little preoccupied at the moment. ]
Yes, yes - here!
[ And he's quick to grab it from her, working quickly to wrap it once, twice, three times around the holstered mimic. He ties it off as best as he can and waits - because what else is there to do but wait and see if that's enough?
When several tense moment pass without the holster shaking or snarling he finally lets go and lets out a ragged sigh. ]
...That explains where all the other candygrams went.
[ But not who it was from. Though, now that most of the panic is over, it is a little strange that Lottie reacted the way she did to the candygram, isn't it?
🎀🥺 yessss next tag maybe??
And it's like a breath of fresh air when it's completely silent, all that tension and panic simply stopping just as the mimic does. But Cassian's sigh breaks the careful, almost hopeful, bubble Lottie's built around them, her lips pressing together as she suppresses a weird little laugh. Not because all her money being ate by his stupid gun is funny, because it isn't, at all, it's just— ]
Seriously?
[ That explains where all the other candygrams went? He didn't bother like, searching or calling the company? Lottie sent at least 5, not including the complementary ones they sent for her when she complained too much. Oh god, he's so stupid. Thank god she didn't find him dead via mimic (would his roommate tell her? Not like next of kin but like, bestie stuff?). She's never spending another cent on him! ]
That's.. So crazy.