I think if you get to the point where you’re gonna walk down the aisle with someone, she’s earned some trust… and faith. She’s earned the benefit of the doubt. So I’m giving it to her. She deserves that.
Grey Hat: A very mild mannered Eldrich 90% of the time- barely feeling anything. However, when he takes off his glasses he feels extreme emotions until his glasses are placed back on.
His business doesn’t pick sides and is often favoured by anti-heroes.
Dr Clug: A talented scientist with a split personality. Often switched between good and evil in a split second. His evil personality is nicknamed “Clog” for his affinity for crocs. He specializes in cyborgs.
Yamencia: A yandere obsessed with Grey Hat, literally a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Is tame most of the time, but will go into a murderous rage at the drop of a (grey) hat.
E03: Cyborg bear who doesn’t understand his own strength, but tries to be good.
The cane. The goddamn cane. Why didn’t I throw it away?
Because Dark couldn’t, and neither could he hid it well enough from Wil’s eyes. Eyes, that were so joyous, but deep inside they were burdened with past trauma that the ego had suppressed. He had pushed away his real identity, his real name, his everything he once was, but so easily were the walls of silenced memories broken down when Wil found the old casket, and opened it.
It was the cane.
Of who? Wil thought for a second until it hit him. The overwhelming memories of losing his friends flooded his mind, and there was no going back. He remembered it all. The manor, the murders, the shootings, and… and Damien and Celene. His friends, now lost forever.
Dark never cried. He thought he was incapable of such emotions.
Until Wil mustered the names through his sobs.
And Dark felt a tear drop roll down his cold, grey skin.
Copenhagen apartment of gallery owner Oliver Gustav: Special edition Arne Jacobsen Drop chair in grey nubuck by Gustav in collaboration with Fritz Hansen (original designed in 1958) and a contemporary floor lamp by Vincenzo De Cotiis. Photography by Henry Bourne. / NY Times
Things were winding down in the 8th year common room and Harry was feeling rather drunk and well snogged after playing alcohol fuelled Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare for the last few hours. Almost all the 8th Years had happily agreed to play the muggle party games that Hermione had suggested and Harry felt like he’d snogged at least half of them. Now it was after midnight and most of the students had retired to their dorms, leaving only a few stragglers lying or sitting around the common room, enjoying the buzz from the Firewhisky Seamus had provided and the warmth from the crackling fire.
Harry leaned back on his elbows from his slouched position on the floor and thought back to the two kisses of the night he’d enjoyed the most. Seamus had been the first to really get into it with Harry. He had felt a hot tongue push into his mouth almost as soon as their lips had touched and then Seamus put his hand on Harry’s arse and squeezed firmly while continuing the passionate assault with his lips and tongue. Harry had been left pink cheeked and slightly out of breath after that kiss and Seamus had looked rather pleased with himself as he sat back down in his place.