Sé me había ocurrido un día derrepente que haya una versión de Crystal Gems con trajes de mis FCs, se ven tiernos sinceramente, Peridoom estaría diciendo por si algo es un Arma, aún que Pearluh es más responsable aún que no cuerdan en la linea de tiempi solo lo hice para pasar el rato.
I knew it had happened to me one day when there was a version of Crystal Gems with costumes of my FCs, they look sincere tenderly, Peridoom would be saying in case something is a Weapon, although Pearluh is more responsible even if they do not rope in the line of time I just did it to hang out.
All I meant was to end things nicely with her; explain the situation, tell her I fall in love with another, and maybe stay friends. I didn’t thought it would turn ugly, I didn’t thought she would hide such a big secret.
“We have a child together”. “Are you still gonna turn your back on me?” - and so after shouting, and pushing - and I think cursing me as well, we reached a mutual understanding.
- amazing kevin and holt backstory - one of the best b99 fics i’ve ever read - characterisation and headcanons!! - beautifully nsfw at some points - “hello, here is my $13.78 for the grocery bill, i’m gay.”
Cliff Tufton is a big-boned Welshman with a graying handlebar mustache, a sharp receding hairline, and a bulbous nose that sits a bit too large on his face. He is dressed casually in black trousers and a plain white shirt, and every so often he pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket and dabs at his perspiring brow. He does not seem to be much of a smiler, nor much of a talker, but when he grips James’s hand in his, he pumps it firmly and wishes him luck in the upcoming match.
“Good fingers,” he observes, holding the clasp a second too long. “Always keen on a lad with good fingers.”
From beside him, James can practically feel the strength of Hoff’s beaming.
“Yes, he does,” the agent agrees readily (too readily). “And speed like you’ve never seen. Did you get those times I sent over from training yesterday? Really quite spectacular. It’s—”
“They do the job,” James interrupts, shooting Cliff a commiserating look.
The man does not move a muscle. Not even a single twitch of the too-large nose or the perspiring brow.