@Eli-the-transboi group
(Omg)
Derik blinks. “Oh uh…any plain shirts. Preferably a dulled down color like ashy blue. Or black.” He shrugs. “Nothing fancy.”
(Omg)
Derik blinks. “Oh uh…any plain shirts. Preferably a dulled down color like ashy blue. Or black.” He shrugs. “Nothing fancy.”
(so using the power of my flawed math [very flawed math] the very max he should be able to lift is a fully crewed M1 Abrams [which is 55 tons {and i did say he could comfortably hold a GAU-8 Avenger machinegun; he can also keep it still while it fires, which releases approximately a fuck ton of energy}] lmao-)
Knight shrugs.
"Alright."
He starts off towards the shirt section and picks out a handful before paying.
(DAMN- I’m simping)
Derik hums softly, looking back at his phone.
(it really isn't that difficult to make that happen lmao-)
(nods big strong man- big handsome man- bi panic-)
Derik hums softly, looking back at his phone.
(lmao yea)
Knight hums as well, thinking.
"Where to next?"
Derik shrugs, “I don’t know- you’re the one carryin’ me around like a sack of potatoes-“
Knight chuckles. "Well you would've ran if I hadn't grabbed you like a sack of potatoes."
He laughs, “Naw I would have just walked…”
"Whatever. Mr. Literal." Knight huffs.
Derik grumbles, “It’s true though! And you shouldn’t be talkin’, asshat!”
Knight seriouslky considers decapitating Derik again, on purpose.
"Why shouldn't I be talking?"
Derik scoffs, “You always take shit literally!”
"No. No I don't." Knight snorts.
“Yes you do!!” Derik grumbles, “Augh you’re so annoying!!”
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