Zodiac first dates

Capricorn: wears exactly the right thing but probably didn’t mean to. Is great at making casual conversation, but feels like they’re being awkward even if you make it obvious that you’re having a good time. Chooses a traditional dinner-date route to keep things familiar and controlled. Is great at hiding their insecurities but can’t hold back a smile. Has all the right manners and picks up the check, won’t try to kiss you unless you make the move.

Aquarius: looks at you with stars in their eyes (but doesn’t realize you can tell). Wears something quirky but still nice and presentable. their hair is messy (even though they spent an hour on it at home). starts with something traditional but invites you to do something else spontaneously because they don’t want the night to end. once they feel like they’ve run out of ways to entertain you, they’ll walk you home and talk about life with you. asks if they can kiss you

Pisces: is super nervous and can’t hide it so they don’t even try. wears something classic and modest, a little bit casual but not too much so. talks too much by accident and feels bad about it, even if you let them lead the conversation. asks a lot of personal questions and gives a lot of info on themselves. makes it obvious that they like you but won’t expect you to like them back. will try to pick up the check or at least go halvsies. too shy to make a move so they just smile really big and dopey until you kiss them

Aries: wears a red and/or black outfit, with a dramatic flair. They look like they stepped out of a magazine and you better notice. takes you to do something different and interesting, probably out of your comfort zone but right in the middle of theirs. asks thought-provoking questions that are difficult to answer, and seems to enjoy watching you come up with creative responses. conversation is intelligent and probably inappropriate. kisses you passionately without warning before the date is even over.

Taurus: wears something sexy but classy. makes good conversation, has interesting things to say but you can tell they aren’t showing their entire true self. Laughs at all your jokes but also has a sarcastic sense of humor and shows it right away. Will call you out on anything you say that they don’t agree with, but doesn’t make a big deal out of it or hold it against you. If they really like you, they’ll kiss you, but if they aren’t sure yet they’ll probably make you work for it.

Gemini: wears bright colors and bold shiny/sparkly accessories. Talks a lot and is very animated, maybe cuts you off sometimes but its by accident. They smile a lot and laugh very loudly, in a cute and excited way. Probably gets a little bit drunk at dinner and definitely kisses you at the end of the night. Texts you right after to tell you what a great time they had.

Cancer: Wears something casual but looks very put-together. More likely to ask you questions than to reveal too much about themselves. May seem quiet but its just because they are listening intently to what you have to say. If you can make them laugh, it melts your heart because their laugh is genuine and their smile lights up their face. Makes fun of you a little bit but only in a light-hearted way. Probably too shy to kiss you but will be upset if you don’t kiss them

Leo: Wears basic clothing that somehow works together to make a perfect outfit. Everyone in the place looks at them when you guys walk in, and more than likely someone else will hit on them while you’re together because they are just that magnetic. They will only focus on you though, and they try to find out as much about your soul as they can, asking deep questions and trying to provoke thoughtful conversation. Kisses you at the end of the night but makes you sweat it out waiting for the next date.

Virgo: Wears normal casual clothes that look good on them, and probably shows off their physique. Big personality, will talk loudly and say the first thing that comes to their mind, but nothing rude. They enjoy laughing, and making light conversation rather than delving deep. Easy to connect with because they are very understanding and can empathize with many different types of people. Will never judge you for your surface-features. Kisses you at the end of the date but is a little bit clumsy/awkward about it.

Libra: Wears light colors, pastels, and probably vintage clothes. Hair and/or makeup is perfect, and they try very hard to be sophisticated (even though they’ll probably spill or break something within the first 10 minutes, then be mortified by it). Is very modest when you ask them questions and doesn’t like to brag about themselves, but will praise you for every accomplishment you’ve made. Their laugh is so cute you want to cuddle them and they will give you their jacket even if you aren’t cold. Wants you to kiss them and will give you the opportunity but won’t be obvious about it.

Scorpio: Wears casual clothing but somehow they look amazing. Their smile is magnetic and they will make you laugh at every opportunity they get, and if you make them laugh too they’re as good as yours. Makes great conversation without revealing any personal information. Will look for excuses to touch you ‘by accident’ all night, and probably wants to take you dancing after dinner. Will probably also get drunk but will buy all your drinks if you let them. If they get the right vibe from you, they’ll kiss you but they won’t put themselves on the line unless they’re sure they won’t be rejected.

Sagittarius: Wears a nice outfit, but nothing too attention-getting. Tusseled hair and bright eyes that captivate you. Smiles really big all night and giggles a lot. Is happy to tell you anything you want to know but probably won’t ask too much about you unless you offer the information, because they don’t want to pry. Takes you to do something lighthearted and fun after dinner, where you can be alone together without too much attention on you. Pays for everything and refuses to let you even touch your wallet. Talks about their big dreams for the future and all the amazing things going for them. Kisses you if they think you’re into it, and is confident that you are (unless you aren’t, then they can definitely tell). 

Just helping out...

Prompt: Kai comforting you after you find Stefan cheating, with sex.

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warning Sex, cursing, sex, oral (female receiving), bloodshare

Word Count: 1.3k

*Hope you like it :)

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Doodles from yesterday and today. I like to make fake rockstars because I love rock music.

1) Hank Tussell of the made-up early 70s folk rock group, YoYo Saints. Famous for their controversial album “Walking the God” which featured a cover art image of a saint walking Jesus in a dog collar, walking on all fours.

2) Famous made-up prog-rock duo, Diatribe, from their 80s comeback years when their hit “Crystal Tears” reached the top of the charts. Mick “The Fox” Talbin (left, lead vocals and drums) and Joel “The Rabbit” Barker (right, synth and bass)

3) Mars Addams (with the most uncomfortable hand poses ever) a made-up Australian garage rock singer who was a former front man of Coyote Spirit. His career spanned throughout the 60s, 70, 80s, 90s, and early-2000s with many comeback hits and 6 reunion tours with Coyote Spirit. He’s one of two surviving members.

4) Made-up psychedelic country rock-singer Floyd Mitchell, who was a one-hit wonder known for his anti-war song “Fox Holes (In My Brain.)” He died on March 14, 1978 when his tour bus was struck by a drunk driver.

5) Caterpillar man-thing(?)

6) Something, I don’t know

anonymous asked:


Aaron is actually really an angry, bitter ball of tiny fire! The guys never see it bc partly he wants to act like he’s better than them, and partly bc he knows they’re gonna get themselves into trouble and someone has to be there to bail them out. But when he’s w/ Jefferson and Madison, or Theo and Bellamy, he just loses his shit! 

Which is why TJeffs always looks at him weird when they’re all together and the squad start getting into a fight and Aaron sits politely at the table, just continuing to eat, bc if it were just them, he’d be in the thick of it. But they all calm the squad down and they sit back down to eat and Jefferson laughs.

“It’s weird, usually it’s Aaron I have to pull away from a fight.”

And the guys are like “whaaaaaaaat!?” and they are all staring at Burr like O.O 

Then one day Aaron’s out by himself, drinking, and some dude starts something and there;s shoving and yelling and rude gestures and it escalates into a full bar fight. It’s then that the guys choose to come in and are like !!!! a bar figh- wait is taht BURR!?

Sure enough, Burr’s on the floor, tusseling with this dude, beat up and bleeding, and throwing punches and he’s so frickin’ badass! There are blushes and a collective sigh of “oh shit” from the guys.

I was sorting out DA2 clips and ended up thinking too much about the Arishok fight and this happened…

Fenris had been the first to notice when Garrett began to sway dangerously on the spot, and was the first to reach him when he fell, catching him before he hit the floor. The elf was deaf to the worried shouts of the others, didn’t hear Varric yelling for Anders, though the blond mage was already moving before the dwarf even opened his mouth. Fenris eased Garrett to the ground, one head cradling the back of his head as it rested against his lap, the other cautiously probing at the wound in his gut. A long, thin, bloody cut courtesy of the Kithshok.

Anders knelt by Garrett’s side, face white and bloodless as his hands began to glow, running them over the bloody wound. Fenris’ jaw tightened as he looked down at Garrett, who was even paler than the other mage, struggling to keep dark brown eyes open even as he kept them trained solely on Fenris. His chest was heaving, hitching with every breath he took as though it pained him. As Anders pushed his shirt further up his chest, the dent in his ribs was evident as to why.

“Don’t move,” the elf commanded sternly, trying to hide the edge of desperation as Anders began to coax the ribs into retaking their proper shape.

It was with a wet gasp that Garrett said, “Fen.”

Fenris’ gut coiled with pleasure and despair in equal measure. He’d not called him ‘Fen’ since that night, and even now there was the undertone of affection in the name.

He could sense the others gathering nearby, the watching eyes of quieted nobles around the fringes of the room, and Meredith’s steely gaze lingering on them. No doubt her lips were pressing into a very thin line at the sight. He heard her barking orders at her templars, not that he cared to listen. She wasn’t important right now. None of them were.

“Just lie still,” Fenris said gently, brushing sweat-dampened black hair off of Garrett’s forehead, all too tempted to lace his fingers through the mop.

Soon more templars arrived, though they simply began to round up the nobility, guiding them out of the hall. Some threw suspicious glances at the band of misfits, but left them to their devices. It seemed that perhaps Meredith had been serious in that proclamation of naming the Hawke twins Champions of Kirkwall. Enough not to have Garrett hauled off to the Circle that very moment.

They would have to go through Fenris first if they wanted him, the elf decided impulsively.

It was only when Bethany appeared at her brother’s side did Fenris realise that Marian had not. A quick scan of the room, and he spotted her with her arm in a makeshift sling - a familiar orange scarf with yellow bands - a distance away from the rest of the group, and currently speaking with a very angry looking Isabela. Or perhaps being spoken to was a better way to phrase it, as Isabela jabbed her hard in the chest, the angry words lost over the flurry of voices and clinking over steel.

Suddenly the pirate snapped, scowling, spun on her heel and marched to the doors leading out of the throne room. She paused on the threshold for a moment, then with her head bowed, took off at a sprint, Marian watching helplessly after her. There was a longing in her eyes that Fenris was all too familiar with.

The eldest Hawke remained where she stood, then glanced around until her eyes met Fenris’. She looked dazed. No surprise, considering how close her tussel with the Arishok had gotten.

Her gaze drifted down to Garrett, and she started forwards before coming to an abrupt halt. Eyes became focused, shifted to the floor, fixed themselves into a scowl, and she quickly followed Isabela’s lead, albeit slower and with a slight limp.

Merrill looked worriedly between the twins, then whispered something to Bethany. The younger Hawke glanced after her sister, then nodded, and the pair hurried off after Marian, no doubt to make sure she was seen to and got back to the Hanged Man safely.

Fenris returned his gaze to Garrett. To his surprise, the mage was still focusing his attention on him with whatever shreds of consciousness he was holding onto, an all too familiar look burning brightly in those warm brown eyes. It was then Fenris realised that his free hand had come to rest on Garrett’s cheek, gently cupping his face.

It felt wrong. It stirred that old feeling in the elf’s chest - the want, the need, the oh-so-deep desire to be by the mage’s side. To feel him again; the gentle reverence of his hands, the way he moved against him, inside him, their lips locked together like coming apart, even for a moment, would be a fate worse than death.

It was wrong because Fenris knew he didn’t deserve Garrett. There were a thousand men more deserving. They all knew it. One of their party in particular had been especially vocal over the mage’s continued pining over the elf. Why Garrett couldn’t simply hate him and move on, Fenris could not understand, even if the thought of it felt like it might just kill him.

Because he’s too damn stubborn, and you love that about him,’ whispered a snide voice in the back of his mind that Fenris shut up immediately. Love was too strong a word. He wasn’t supposed to love Garrett. Wasn’t allowed to after walking out that night. It wasn’t something he was ready for, if he ever could be.

“I’ve fixed the worst of the damage,” panted Anders, clearly drained from the effort. “We need to… To get him home. Let him rest and recover.”

Fenris volunteered first to help the new Champion home, earning a glare from the blonde mage that went ignored by the elf. Aveline took Garrett’s other side, and together they levered him up onto his feet. He was barely conscious, he’d lost so much blood and no one desired to tempt fate in testing his ability to stand. The two warriors took an arm each and supported his weight as they guided him out of the keep and back to the Hawke estate.

The wound in his gut split open halfway down the steps from the keep’s entrance - not nearly so deep as before, but enough for rivulets of blood to splatter over the now-unconscious Garrett’s legs and across the flagged stone streets of Hightown. It pressed the group into hurrying, Sebastian running to get the front door open, pausing only to request Bodhan bring medical supplies.

Fenris and Aveline hauled Garrett onto his bed before stripping away damaged armour until he was left in his trousers, exposing the criss-cross of scars and the bruises that had blossomed across his torso.

Anders would have continued to heal Garrett’s wounds, but much of his energy had been spent battling through city streets filled with angry Qunari, and so Varric saw the blond mage off back to Darktown, insisting that the worst was dealt with and that he’d done enough for one night.

Meanwhile Sebastian began to tend the new Champion by hand with the medical supplies Bodhan had brought up, carefully stitching the wound in Garrett’s gut closed with careful, practiced hands.

Aveline took her leave next; the city guard would need direction to help restore orde before Kirkwall burned to the ground.

Sebastian departed a while after, once he finished bandaging Garrett’s wounds. He noted to Fenris - who was barely listening - that one of the Sisters in the Chantry had once been a practiced healer and taught him a few things about first aid. He left a list of instructions before leaving; mostly when the bandages would need to be changed, and how to clean the wounds without risk of tearing them again.

Fenris gave Sebastian a grateful nod - he’d pass the list onto Bodhan, considering he couldn’t exactly read it himself - then returned his gaze to Garrett, running one hand through the black mop of hair, whilst the other curled itself around Garrett’s.

He knew he ought to have known better than to allow himself this sort of intimacy, but the mage felt like an anchor in the swirling storm of emotion crashing inside of Fenris’ head. The adrenaline from the battle hadn’t quite worn off, leaving his heart still pounding harder than normal and his muscles trembling slightly from the anticipation of fight-or-flight.

He remembered when the fighting broke out. He’d grabbed his blade, first instincts telling him to find Garrett at all costs. They’d ran into each other about halfway between their homes, Garrett looking fairly dishevelled but otherwise unhurt. Unease and bone-biting worry turned into relief at the sight of him.

And then there was the proposal of the duel. The Arishok and his Kithshok against the Hawke twins. The winners kept Isabela, the losers lost their lives. It had been nerve-wracking to see the twins going into battle and be helpless to do nothing but watch, no matter how bad things got.

There had been far too many close calls. It became clear to all early into the duel that the twins were badly out of synch. Whereas in the past they had fought together flawlessly, one twin’s attack flowing effortlessly into the other, the rift between them had caused obvious disruption. Their timing had been poor, and there was no cooperation, no ease of movement around one another. Considering how well the Arishok and Kithshok had worked together, it was a wonder that the twins had survived at all.

Fenris had never felt fear as he had felt it tonight. Fear wasn’t an unknown to him; it had been ever present, ever since his flight from Danarius’ service in Seheron. Always watching over his shoulder, never spending too long in one place (prior to Kirkwall anyway), never quite knowing who to trust. But this was a different brand of fear altogether.

This fear had settled deep into his stomach the moment Garrett accepted the terms of the duel and Fenris was forced to watch from the sidelines, helpless to do anything else. It intensified when the Kithshok threw Garrett to the ground and raised his spear to deal the finishing blow. Even now it tormented him with the image over and over again, refusing to relent, to remind him that Garrett had managed to throw the Kithshok back with a spell before scrambling back to his feet, one hand clutching his bleeding gut as he finished his opponent - a powerful bit of magic born of desperation, fear, and the drive for survival. A small taste of the mage’s true potential.

Yet Fenris couldn’t bring himself to care about that last thread of thought. All he wanted was to see Garrett’s eyes open again. A confirmation he really had made it through the battle, even if the rise and fall of his chest indicated he was perfectly alive. He just needed something more, something that could abate the fear.

“Fen…” came a very small whisper. Garrett’s eyes were still closed, but his fingers squeezed around the elf’s. The grip wasn’t commanding. It was begging. Begging Fenris not to let go.

Fenris swallowed hard and said, “I am here” before daring to inch a little closer, squeezing back even if he should have known better.

The mage went lax with relief, but his hand remained as it was, clutching Fenris’ like it was a lifeline. Dark brown eyes managed to crack open, and it felt like a physical blow to see, to feel the adoration in his gaze.

“Fen,” he repeated, still quiet with exhaustion, but somehow stronger than before, with more conviction. He didn’t falter as he said, “I love you.”

If seeing it in his eyes felt like a fist, then hearing the words from his lips felt like a battering ram. A sense of dread bled into his chest even as his heart swelled to hear the words, to see the utter sincerity in the mage’s eyes when he said it. He wasn’t worthy of returning that love. Even if he was, he wasn’t ready. Not now, maybe not ever.

So he simply replied with a choked, “I know.”

We Need to Stop Meeting Like This

Lady Aeducan took a hard swill of her ale, sudsy grain and foam smacking the back of her throat. A thin veil of blood rose in her round face as it filled her cheeks and washed over her tongue. The chatter of other people in the tavern became a low buzzing noise. A warm tingle that rooted in her stomach from her first glass began to bloom and spread throughout her body. Yet when her head veered to the side of the stall, seeing the crinkles in Gorim’s brow, crowning his sad eyes, she found herself painfully lucid.

“My lady,” he said, the low rumble of his voice perfectly clear, even in her state. “Please stop. You’ve had enough.”

She winced, his truth stung despite her null senses. “Fine,” she blurted out, slamming the empty tankard on the stall. “Human ale is inferior, anyway.”

“Perhaps… I should just go.”

“What? No, no. Please just…” she felt her elbows wobble, her arms like warm jelly, as she recomposed herself. She snapped her back straight, limbs neatly folded, like the noble she used to be, though she still felt as though her muscles were glued together with melting paste. “Please stay just a while longer. I needed to resupply before I head… go to the mountains. It’s going to be a long trip, and I wanted to see you before I left. And Ancestors know I’ll need a few drinks to carry me through the ordeal.”

“What I mean to say is…we can’t keep doing this, all this. Meeting like this. I can’t keep closing shop when you come into town, then act like it never happened. It’s not right.”

Lady Aeducan’s nerves jolted, a cold chill splitting through her warmed body; the shock of it so quick and cold, it made her stomach turn. “We’re not doing anything wrong, Gorim. I pass through here all the time, and you live here. We’re just… taking a break together. Just two friends, taking a short break, having a few drinks, catching up, doing our best on this crazy surface world.”

The former warrior sighed, the stress resounding in the cracking rasp of his voice. “Hervor,” he said firmly. “Why don’t you want to meet my wife?”

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anonymous asked:

hi ! you've said once about joffrey "it’s because every father figure he had robert jaime tyrion all fucking abused the shit out of him" and while i totally agree about robert and jaime, i've failed to see how tyrion abused joffrey. i've always thought tyrion really wanted to guide joffrey, to bring him his knowledge, to be a kingmaker. In some ways, tyrion is the best tutor joff ever had, the only who man "care". especially when we all know joffrey was really awful withtyrion.

Hi Anon,

Tyrion and Joffrey were very much in a relationship of cyclical mutual abuse: one would say/do something, the other would react in self defense, note it, then say/do something later.  Tyrion is a very subtle character, and he certainly doesn’t think that he abuses Joffrey, or at least because he’s reacting to Joffrey’s attacks on him, he thinks either that he’s defending himself or that Joffrey deserves it in some way.  And Joffrey certainly doesn’t seem to care about whether or not he’s compounding on the societal (and familial) abuse laid on Tyrion.

When we first encounter Tyrion, this is the first interaction we see between him and Joffrey:

“None,” Tyrion said. “Yet it is expected of you. Your absence has been noted.”

“The Stark boy is nothing to me,” Joffrey said. “I cannot abide the wailing of women.”

Tyrion Lannister reached up and slapped his nephew hard across the face. The boy’s cheek began to redden. 

“One word,” Tyrion said, “and I will hit you again.”

“I’m going to tell Mother!” Joffrey exclaimed.

Tyrion hit him again.  Now both cheeks flamed.  

“You tell your mother,” Tyrion told him. “But first you get yourself to Lord and Lady Stark, and you fall to your knees in front of them, and you tell them how very sorry you are, and that you are at their service if there is the slightest thing you can do for them or theirs in this desperate hour, and that all your prayers go with them. Do you understand? Do you?”

The boy looked as though he was going to cry. Instead, he managed a weak nod. Then he turned and fled headlong from the yard, holding his cheek. Tyrion watched him run.  (Tyrion I, AGOT)

Joffrey is definitely being a misogynistic little shit in this scene, in addition to showing very little sympathy to the fact that Bran is on the verge of death.  The behavior in and of itself is abominable; but hitting him is physical abuse of a child.  Additionally, when Joffrey protests (going to an authority figure who might protect him from being hit), Tyrion hits him again, and challenges that safety.  

So what’s Tyrion reacting to here?  Joffrey being rude is one thing, but I think that it’s more telling to look at earlier in the scene: 

Tyrion glanced down and saw the Hound standing with young Joffrey as squires swarmed around them.  “At least he dies quietly,” the prince replied.  “It’s the wolf that makes the noise.  I could scarce sleep last night.”

Clegane cast a long shadow across the hard-packed earth as his squire lowered the black helm over his head.  “I could silence the creature, if it pleases you,” he said through the open visor.  His boy placed a longsword in his hand.  He tested the weight of it, slicing the cold morning air.  Behind him, the yard rang with the clangor of steel on steel.

The notion seemed to delight the prince.  “Send a dog to kill a dog!” he exclaimed.  “Winterfell is so infested with wolves, the Starks would never miss one.”

Tyrion hopped off the last step onto the yard.  “I beg to differ, nephew,” he said.  "The Starks can count past six.  Unlike some princes I might name.”

Joffrey had the grace at least to blush.

“A voice from nowhere,” Sandor said.  He peered through his helm, looking this way and that.  “Spirits of the air!”

The prince laughed, as he always laughed when his bodyguard did this mummer’s face.  Tyrion was used to it.  “Down here.” (Tyrion I, AGOT)

Joffrey is cruel; Tyrion berates him; Sandor makes fun of his disability; Joffrey laughs; Tyrion retaliates.  He’s very much reacting to the ableism here, and directing his frustration at Joffrey, because Joffrey’s already crossed the line even before Sandor Clegane opened his mouth.  I’ve seen people call this “tough love” or “teaching him a lesson” and my issue with that is that if he is teaching Joffrey a lesson, he, like Robert, is using negative reinforcement.  Physical abuse and belittling Joffrey’s intelligence are things that will shape him very much, and this is the first of several such interactions over the course of the two and a half books in which Joffrey is alive.  

But of course, you also can’t talk about Tyrion abusing Joffrey without also talking about how Joffrey repeatedly is horrible to Tyrion, down to his dying moment when he hires a troupe of dwarves to entertain at his wedding expressly to humiliate Tyrion.  It’s very much cyclical.  Joffrey is reacting to all the times Tyrion called him stupid, hit him, threatened him (Tyrion does this too) and made him feel powerless.  Meanwhile, Tyrion, when he does things like this, is reacting to all the times that Joffrey–like everyone else in Westeros–belittles him for his disability and hits him precisely where it hurts.  

Now here’s the thing, especially when you get to A Clash of Kings, I do very much think there’s a lot of idealism in Tyrion.  He cares very much about how he’s viewed by the larger public–I see this as being intimately related to being starved of love from his father–and cares about how he’s remembered.  He wants to do great things and be remembered for them.  But more importantly, he wants to do the right thing (such as he perceives it).

“So what will you do, m’lord, now that you’re the Hand of the King?” Shae asked him as he cupped that warm sweet flesh.

“Something Cersei will never expect,” Tyrion murmured softly against her slender neck.  “I’ll do…justice.” (Tyrion I, ACOK)

He definitely cares about what he is doing, and sees himself as doing the right thing, even if he often walks lines that are murky morally.  And I don’t for a second deny that Joffrey is absolutely gross to Tyrion.  But I wouldn’t also think that what he wants is not to guide Joffrey.  He wants power, and he wants no one to stand in his way (hence his tussels with Cersei).  Does he want to bring Joffrey knowledge?  He probably hopes that the boy will grow up and realize how great he is, but we never see him sit down with Joffrey and train him, or even treat him as someone who might learn, undoubtedly because if he were to do so, Joffrey would continue to be gross to him and because he sees Joffrey as a vicious lost cause.  So he tries to operate around Joffrey more than anything else, and manages to do this with some success until Tywin shows up and takes the reins away from him.  

in the first fucking scene with bill in it, he:

  • holds his hands together and smiles (kinda) 
  • tussels stanford’s hair
  • puts his arm around ford’s shoulders
  • does the nose flick thing grenda used to flirt with the rich guy

ford dated the illuminati confirmed

Zel was at a crime scene, sectioning it off. Apparently a robbery of some sort had happened at a jewelry store, followed by the thief getting in a tussel with the security guard before escaping. The forenics team was just dusting up for fingerprints and taking the blood samples from the sidewalk outside the store.

Zel had set the perimeter when she noticed a rather tall man within the yellow police tape

“Sir? I’m going to have to ask you to leave, this is a crime scene…”