#but have my little idiot child

[icedfae]

(—) ★ spotted!! FREDERICK HAWKER on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 25 year old looks like DANNY GRIFFIN, but i don’t really see it. while  the MEDIA CONGLOMERATE HEIR  is known for being  EBULLIENT my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be DIMWITTED i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song  ALL THE SMALL THINGS by BLINK 182

basics

Name: Frederick ‘Freddie’ Sebastian Hawker Age:  Twenty-Five DOB: August 8, 1997 Gender: Cismale Occupation: Media Conglomerate Heir Parents: Francesca Albrecht and Sebastian Hawker Siblings: Brooke Hawker ( sister ), Lily Hawker ( sister ) Birth Place: London

history

The youngest and only son to the Hawker empire, Freddie spent the first few formulative years of his life being allowed to do whatever he pleased. His mother focused on her career at Vogue and his father running the company that he was always told would one day be his, most of his childhood was spent running after Brooke and Lily, always wanting to be included in his older sister’s lives no matter if he was an annoyance to them or not.

Was very much the baby boy of the family, the youngest and only son granting him a little more leeway with their parents than what Brooke and Lily were given. He also was well aware of the expectations now put on him from particularly his father not to disappoint.

 Freddie never really excelled at school. He spent a good portion of his life feeling dejected for not understanding concepts right away. Instead of pushing himself to do better, he often shut down completely and would do the bare minimum to continue passing.

His collegiate life was one that was less than stellar in the performance of business school. Having gotten used to the idea that his future was in the palm of his father’s hands with little to no escape, he used this time to feel free while he could and spent more time inebriated than paying attention in class. Now that he’s fully graduated, this has gotten him into hot water because he can’t seem to understand half of what the board is telling him when he’s stuck in meetings with his father.

His father truly does terrify him to no end. He just wants to run away and not have to worry about anything but knows that would end badly for everyone involved. His happiness isn’t as important to him as his family’s is.

He’s a huge feminist, goal in life is to be a trophy husband to a successful woman, and be there to make their lives easier. Powerful women surround him all the time and he’s not afraid to admit that his oldest sister intimidates him to no end.

Most likely to be found partying after work, in his suit still, trying to hold onto the small semblance of his freedom from school.

Has never picked out his own clothes once -- always trusts someone else’s opinion over his own.

He is a golden retriever, honestly, not a lot going on upstairs, but is also a bit of a heathen still.

Once broke into the neighbor’s home thinking it was his and slept naked in a bathtub until the shrieking woke him up.

connections

Brooke Hawker - Older sister

Lily Hawker - Older Sister

Julietta Arias - Ex

Haley Kennedy - Ex

Issy Kennedy - Partner In Crime

David Peterson - New Friend

Emira Altintaş - Best Friend/First Love/Soon to be FWB/Believes they’ll be married in ten years

[egophiliac]

Hi!

What's your favourite Disney movie? And does your preference for the dorms have any influence on their movies and vice versa? Like I know you love Diasomnia so is Sleeping Beauty high up there for you?

I'm just asking because Snow White is actually my favourite Disney Princess and her movie is my favourite yet Pomefiore is my least favourite dorm (but Lion King and Savanaclaw are both in my top two) and I was wondering if it's similar for you?

yessss someone else whose favorite princess is Snow! ❄️

that said, it's hard to say what my favorite movie is, because I'm one of those annoying people who's like "well it depends" (on different aspects, on my mood, on the phase of the moon, etc). though out of the ones represented in Twst, I think it probably is Sleeping Beauty! I think it's really pretty and just a delightful movie! it hits a nice sweet spot for me of being kind of...gently grounded while still having that floaty-fairytale feeling, if that makes sense also I might have had a huge villaincrush on Maleficent that is being massively projected onto Meleanor, shh

although I actually sort of hated Diasomnia at first (l-look, they didn't have cards at first and all we had to go on were the website descriptions that make everyone sound horrible). so I dunno, maybe the influence helped win me over to them! or maybe just because, like everything else in Twst, they were unexpectedly enjoyable in practice?

(I don't think there are any that had a negative influence either, because I am also one of those annoying people who's like "well I don't have a least favorite, I like everybody!") (sob. it's true though.) (I just, I just love characters so much --)

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[ninjasmudge]

people really will say shit like 'the fic i found hasn't updated in a whole month so i think its been abandoned which is a shame, i wanted to read more' like where do you even get the nerve

[cherryatombomb]

Idiot's Guide to Dating by Simon Riley

John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

this is part six, the final chapter!! read on ao3, or on tumblr - read the others parts here - part one, part two, part three, part four, part five. no warnings apply! this is wholehearted fluff, baby.

The Ghost didn’t get giddy. He was a trained soldier who had slaughtered many people, and who could kill without even a second thought. There was no reason for him to get giddy – there was only room for mindless killing. He was a wolf, kept on a leash that he could pull free from if he chose to, but for now, remained complacent.

Simon Riley, however, very much so did get fucking giddy, apparently.

It felt so stupid, how excited he was for this date. He’d barely been able to focus the entire day, distracted by Johnny’s eager smile, or how his lips felt against his, or, god forbid, his accent and how much he liked it. Never had he been so pleased about his reputation for being quiet, and hostile when interrupted, because it did allow him to stew in his thoughts. A conscious effort was made to not walk around with a smile, because the mask did hide it, but the happy look in his eyes was not lost, and he refused to lose some of his reputation by acting like a fool.

It was a close thing, however. Every time he ran into Soap, it took everything within him to not smile (and sometimes, he just couldn’t bring himself to resist).

Never had he been so grateful for a relatively quiet and quick day, and soon, he was waiting in his room for Johnny. That had been a challenge in of itself, because he then had to think of an outfit to wear, and he didn’t… know what you wore on dates?

People wore fancy clothes, but it was also just Soap.

Would Soap want him to get dressed up, or would he just want him as he was?

He allowed himself a moment to flop onto his bed, bury his head into his pillow, and let out a frustrated groan. Dating was so much more complicated than he thought it would be. Even with his incredible plan finished, all that was revealed was that there was so much more to it than he’d thought.

After regaining his wits, he walked over to his wardrobe. There wasn’t… much in variety, admittedly. Before this, he hadn’t ever really needed it. Most of his clothes were practical, some there just for comfort, like the long hoodies he’d had for years and years, now. An old, frayed hoodie didn’t seem quite like dating clothes, as tempting as the comfort sounded. Then again, nor did the shirts, mostly there for practicality, used for missions. Once again, he’d never regretted just having normal clothes before now.

Resisting the urge to go and yell into his pillow once more, he rooted around in his wardrobe, determined to find something. Surely, he had some ‘date outfit’, tucked away somewhere.

Miracles were real, apparently, because he found exactly what he was looking for before. Tucked away into the corner of his wardrobe, forgotten and old, was a simple black button-up. To most people, it probably wasn’t the most formal thing, but for him, it was just about perfect.

Quickly, he shucked his shirt and put it on, uncovering the mirror in his bathroom just to peer at himself with it on. He looked… nice? It was clear he was unused to looking this way, his shoulders a little tensed up, uncomfortable, but the shirt fit him well. It wasn’t too tight, but it was tight enough that his muscles were shown off, and it fit well around his arms. When he rolled up the sleeves, his tattoos complimented it, oddly enough.

With one half of the outfit down, he only had the other half to go.

Another longing shot was sent at the pillow.

For his bottom half, it didn’t take as long, which he was thrilled about. He settled for a simple pair of black jeans – he knew the Scot was going to mock him for being all grim and dark, but he had no idea how to match an outfit, in his defense, and if he spent any longer trying to find the right clothes, Soap would arrive.

The finishing touch on the outfit was the shoes, which were simple boots because he didn’t really own any normal shoes. Of course, there was the mask, too – he put a simple face mask in his jean pocket, in case he felt comfortable enough wearing that. For now, he still wore the balaclava, but he had a feeling Johnny wouldn’t mind that.

It was a lucky thing he finished getting dressed when he did, as Johnny arrived mere moments later, knocking on his door, and drawing him from his thoughts. He waited for him to answer, not stepping in. The subtle sign of respect was appreciated.

Stepping over to the door, he felt his heart racing, like a kid with his first crush – and, for once, he didn’t shove that feeling away. That feeling increased tenfold when he opened the door.

There Johnny stood, in all his usual glory, but so much better, like this. His mohawk was slicked back, and he wore a simple white shirt, one that clung tight to him, and showed off his muscles. He wore black jeans – fuck, they looked like skinny jeans, and they showed off muscled thighs, too. Then, he wore simple trainers.

It took everything within Simon not to pull him into his room then and there. Fuck the date, they could be doing something far more interesting-

No. He was going to do this right. Johnny deserved that.

“Lookin’ good, Lt,” Johnny grinned, widely, not hiding the way his eyes scanned him up and down.

“Simon.”

“Eh?”

“Call me Simon tonight?” He hadn’t even met to say the words, and Simon had no idea where they came from, but he refused to take it back.

“Okay, Simon,” The pleased smile that quirked Johnny’s lips made Simon immediately want to crumble. It was so unfair, how nice he looked. How handsome he was. He was the perfect mix of handsome and pretty, and he regretted not doing this sooner.

“C’mon,��� Simon carefully nudged his way past Soap, then, deciding they should get a start on the evening before he just ended up staring at Johnny in his room the whole night. Whilst that still sounded nice, he wanted it to be perfect. For Soap’s sake.

Through the halls, he led him, pleased he’d picked this time for it. There wasn’t anybody around, thanks to most people being in the canteen, and it meant that they weren’t forced to deal with any conversation. It was great. Soap rambled as they walked, and Simon simply allowed himself to enjoy the sound of his voice. He allowed him to take charge of the conversation, occasionally offering input, but mostly letting him talk. Soap had a nice voice, and he may never admit that, but he had an inkling he already knew that.

They ended up outside, and Johnny blinked as he led them to the garage, surprised to be taken off base, but not against it, necessarily. That surprise was only furthered when Simon stopped at a motorbike and was taking out two helmets.

Amusement danced across Simon’s features at the dumbfounded expression upon his features, putting his own helmet on, before offering one to Johnny.

“You - ah – motorbike?” He asked, smartly.

“I motorbike,” Simon answered, simply because he was an asshole. “Can drive in your car, if you want. Don’t have one on base,”

“No!” Soap scrambled to say, “This is perfect! I just… I’ve never… been on one?”

Ghost was thankful his mask covered up the grin that split his lips. Johnny had been a lot of his firsts, entirely by accident – first boyfriend, first date, the first person he’d put this much effort into caring for, etc – it only made him that much more thrilled to give him a first, too. It was only fair, of course.

He moved closer, pleased at the way Johnny instinctively stilled, and helped put his own helmet on. Part of it was an excuse to get closer to him, but part of it was simply to make sure it was on correctly. “Might mess up your hair, sorry,”

“Knew you liked my hair,”

A huff escaped Ghost, but he didn’t deny it. When he finished putting the helmet on, he pulled back and gave him a little pat on the head. He returned to the saddlebag and pulled out two leather jackets – okay, maybe he’d planned this out in advance during the day, but in his defense, he wanted it to be perfect. He was confident in his skills as a driver – at least on a motorbike, cars were a different story – but he wanted Soap to be as safe as possible.

That and, well, a base part of him roared in delight at the thought of Johnny wearing his clothes.

Once both wore their jackets, he got onto the bike and patted behind him. Soap stared at him, for a moment, before he could see the formations of a smile curling his lips. He settled behind him, and wrapped his arms around his waist, settling close – far closer than anybody other than Soap would dare.

Ensuring the other knew that it was fine, he patted his hands, before switching the bike on, smiling privately as he heard the roar of the engine. Despite the loudness of it, it reassured him, somehow.

As he began to drive, he felt Soap tense, clearly a little anxious, so he made sure not to go too fast, not wanting to push it. The further they drove, however, the more relaxed he got, until, as they drove down an empty road, Johnny let his head tilt back, and he let out a pleased whoop.

Simon pushed it a bit more, after that, but not too fast, not wanting to risk anything. He simply wanted Johnny to enjoy himself, and it became clear that he was.

They did arrive at their destination reasonably soon, though, and Simon could feel when the other realized where they were going, as his arms tightened around him excitedly. That giddy feeling from earlier arose once more, tenfold.

He parked up, and as soon as the rumble of the engine stopped, Johnny was excitedly talking. “Simon Riley, you sweet bastard! I knew you were already, but fuck, this is adorable! C’mon! I wanna go!” He stood up off the bike, and Simon let out a quiet laugh before joining him.

Soap’s excited rambling continued as they took their helmets and jackets off, storing them away once more. Once done, Simon began to lead him toward their date location for the night.

When he’d been beginning the list, he’d scoured the internet for ideas of where to go. Most of them had been cliché in a way that made him uncomfortable – restaurants and things of the like. This had the perfect mix of people, but alone time; it was a fair. One of those that traveled around the country, setting up at different times, and when he’d given it some thought, he’d decided that it was perfect.

The music was a little bit overstimulating, but Johnny’s enthusiasm made up for just about everything else, honestly. He would go into war for that smile – though was happy that he didn’t have to, for now.

Before they got too close, Simon slipped his balaclava off and switched it out for a simple face mask. It only covered the lower half of his face, and usually, it would overwhelm him beyond measure – and, in fairness, it did, initially. That discomfort was immediately assuaged when he reached closer and pressed his hand into Johnny’s. Like this, he could take on the world.

The simple action was enough for Soap to pause his rambling to look over at him, and the love that shone in his eyes when he spotted the switch of masks was enough to reaffirm his decision entirely. His pupils blew a little wider, and the grin turned into a fond smile, and, shit, it was taking everything within Simon not to kiss the shit out of him right then and there.

“Keep going, MacTavish,” There was a joking warning tone in Simon’s voice, though it was very clear he didn’t mean it. It made Soap chuckle, so he decided it was entirely worth it.

They spent a lot longer at the fair than Simon ever intended, but he adored every single moment. He insisted on paying for everything, claiming that it was his date idea, and Johnny only relented when he said that next time, he would be paying. He would allow anything for a second date, so of course he nodded his assent.

Soap insisted they go around each shitty fairground ride, and Simon, certain, now, he couldn’t deny him anything, agreed. He found out that Soap had an affinity for the waltzer, but also loved the twister, mostly because he was flung into Simon’s side, every time.

Hell, he even insisted they do some of the kid’s attractions – things like hook-a-duck – after Simon offhandedly mentioned that he had never been to the fair before. It had been a little embarrassing, especially when she eyed Simon with clear confusion at the man with a skull mask intently focused on winning his partner a prize.

It was so worth it when he got him a stupid little teddy bear, because Soap’s face lit up, and he’d give him the world if he asked, just to get him to look like that.

Hours flew by, and surprisingly, Simon loved all of it. It was only towards the end that he started to get uncomfortable, but he pushed through it, for Johnny’s sake. It wasn’t too much longer until he felt the same way, though, and they found some food before they found a spot to settle down in. They both grabbed a cheeseburger each and found some of those warm doughnuts that Soap informed him were a staple of the fair. He took his word for it, but he told him they would be buying some anyway.

They found a spot to settle down in, a place away from the main park area, and though it was getting dark, they were illuminated enough to be comfortable. The grass was a little wet, making it a little uncomfortable, but he felt too good to care much about it. They were far enough away from people that he felt content taking his mask off, knowing that nobody could probably see them – that and, well, he had to eat. Even he couldn’t figure out how to eat through the mask.

This time, they settled into a comfortable silence, and Simon moved to wrap an arm around his shoulder and hold him. Everything felt perfect – he slotted into his side perfectly, like he was made for it.

Maybe he was…

Once they finished eating their burgers, they moved on to their doughnuts, and – oh, shit, Johnny was right. These were fucking perfect. And now, the taste would remind him of a perfect moment. Simon Riley was a secret sap, apparently. Or, more likely, it was just one of many things Soap brought out for him.

Halfway through eating, Simon gasped, suddenly remembering something. He checked his phone, then smiled in excitement.

“There are fireworks in two minutes,” he mumbled in Johnny’s ear, careful to let him know. Given how loud they were, and what they sounded like, it was only fair he knew.

Once more, Simon realized just how much he would do to see Soap smile like that again. It reached his eyes, making them crinkle in the corners prettily, and they showed off white teeth, and his hair was a little scruffy thanks to the rides they’d been on, and – well, shit, he couldn’t resist kissing him, now.

One of his hands reached up to cup the smaller man’s cheek, and he leaned down to kiss him once more. He tasted of burgers, doughnuts, and sugar, and it was entirely perfect. His eyes fell shut, and he did his best to commit the taste of Johnny into his brain. He’d never get enough of this – to be honest, he thought he might be addicted.

Might as well keep it up, just to figure out the answer, right?

When he pulled back, it was only because his lungs were begging for oxygen, and though he would happily drown in Soap, he didn’t think the other would allow him that. It was the perfect time to do so, though, because, as soon as he did, the fireworks started up. It made him startle, then relax, immediately, and both turned to look at them.

Unable to resist, and more than happy to indulge, Simon once more tugged Johnny into his side. His hand moved to hold his, and at that moment, he decided that maybe the world wasn’t so bad.

Both were quiet as they watched, though Simon’s eyes were fixed on the fireworks – Johnny's eyes were fixed on him. For a man who had lived the life he did, it took a startling amount of time for him to realize what he was doing.

“Hm?” Simon asked, suddenly feeling a little confused.

“I love you,”

Simon’s heart stopped, and his eyes went wide.

“Shite! I mean – fuck, I really like you, and you don’t have to say anything back, and – I don’t wanna ruin whatever this is, I’m sorry, Simon, I-”

The word vomit was cut off by lips on his, once more. Johnny had gone tense, but slowly but surely relaxed into the kiss yet again.

“It’s okay,” the words didn’t feel like enough, but he knew he wasn’t ready yet to say it back. One day, he would. But for now, the words just couldn’t come out of his mouth.

It seemed, as usual, that Johnny understood his silent meaning, and smiled softly at him. “You don’t have to say it back, I just want you to know. I love you, Simon Riley,” he said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and settling back in so they could watch the fireworks.

Simon hesitated, then squeezed his hand three times, and rested his head on top of his. Only one thought had crossed his mind, at that moment – he'd officially and thoroughly dated the shit out of John MacTavish. He knew he could do it.

[twobellsilence]

In retrospect it's so funny that the only surviving OC from my teens is Lucas. Only technically, I guess, bc he's almost unrecognizable except for being male and ????? sort of?? a lab experiment, but still. Like his original version was this sad monstrous lab-spawned child with no parents and a very quiet and subdued attitude who just wanted to belong... and he was so soft and shy and always like "oh no, i'm a monster, nobody likes me"......... And now he's a loud boisterous outgoing young man who loves talking to people and would be a good candidate for happiest person alive and the only reason why he isn't a regular ass guy is because he *might* be infected with a Highly Unstable mutagenic virus but that's okay because he gets to be like s/piderman but uncool and he's very excited about it. and like his Original incarnation got to play hero too, but he was suuuuper angsty about it, while this version is just happy to be here despite looking WAY worse. depression who. woe is me who. parentless behavior who (i mean his parents are dead, but he has his cool lesbian aunt). that's what we call CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT and THERAPY

[g00seg1raffe]

Can i share something that happened to me last year

I'm minding my own business and this guy who I kind of know but wouldn't really consider myself friends with (trauma bonded on a school trip last year and haven't spoken since) comes up to me like hey, what are you doing? And I say: world-building the ancient history of Lord of the Rings. And then I proceed to tell him all about the various genocides of the first age, with a side note on Maedhros' Quenya name, which literally means 'the hot redhead who's third in line for the throne', with his mother name meaning 'hot damn', his father name meaning 'third of the king's name' and his nickname meaning 'redhead'. Then I explain that loads of elves get nicknames, like Gil-Galad and other people who I can't remember.

And he goes cool, can I have an elvish nickname? And I say sure, what do you want it to mean?

And he goes: big daddy

and I don't know what's more embarrassing: a) he thought that, b) he asked that, or c) I could translate that off the top of my head.

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Keep thinking about the .00001% chance my Durge has a kid, and how impossible the circumstances would have to be, but also how both posh and feral a child raised by Durge and Astarion would be 😭

Like this baby is so good at using their baby charms to get everything they want but sometimes it's ridiculous shit like. You have this super spoiled child who is kind of a brat sometimes, but secretly a huge softy and is actually VERY well behaved for their parents & extended family...for the most part.

Sometimes a feral streak will hit them and they'll get the combination Dhampir/Bhaalspawn Zoomies. They're running around yelling about paving a path in corpses, Astarion is moving at top Vamp speed to keep up, Storm Sorc Durge flying over every which way trying to prevent shit from breaking/falling. But this is still just a child so at a certain point they overdo it and Astarion & Durge just fucking find them passed out with some squirrels they drained then slaughtered.

But also imagine the hunger this poor child would experience. Like they're the creation of two people with nearly uncontrollable appetites. The "Pets or food?" Dichotomy to an extreme. Living beings are literally their life source and their offering to the God whispering violence in their ear day in & day out. Cus you know Bhaal would be giving that little Bhaalspawn Special Attention. Cus he's petty af.

Like it would be so tragic, but could be such a good "resisting hunger & urges" story to explore esp with having to live their lives with both bc Dhampir Bhaalspawn baby wouldn't have Withers to take Bhaal's blood from them

[monkee-mobile]

oh my god i have so many WEIRD self-projection tv show monkees headcanons that I feel like i’d get yelled at for having but like, it’s all about stuff that I’ve done or literally do and cannot help. sometimes i want to share them and then freak out about backlash but i feel like any backlash would just be from ableist people.

[verved]

Finding a fic that doesn't infantalize connor should be a new Olympic sport

[torahtot]

i was such a funny kid bro i dont think i ever internalized that my dad was an immigrant like i never thought abt that word meanwhile me and my bukharian bestie were having hours long DMCs about our crazy dads

[wilsons-journey]

Can someone get addicted to drawing? My head is full of: I wanna draw this and that 24/7. (When I compare that to the last year... what the hell happened??)

Can't wait for work to be done (again), to start doodling the anwers for the ask. (At this point: Thank you so much for sending them!)

For some of them, I already have some fun ideas on how to answer them.

And there is also my new mini comic project, I love to work on. Or some more baby Charrs I have to draw,...

So much to do - so less time.

[ghoulishautism]

Kinning Danny Phantom so hard right now (hating the shit out of Christmas and feeling like an outlier because of it)

[warriorprincesstramp]

guy who didn't take their stop getting panicked and freaking out at everything and having unbearable heart palpitations and being unable to sleep pill voice guess who's feeling panicked and won't stop freaking out at everything and is having unbearable heart palpitations and can't sleep!! el oh el!

[cyberspiderrrr]

(just a quick warning for anyone who sees this reblog. I uh. I got carried away yelling in the tags. Know what youre getting into when you hit read more)

So y’all don’t have to keep making new ones