#dope chef

[mrdopechef]

#DOPE #DOPECHEF #DOPECHEF2024 #MRDOPECHEF #DOPECHEFFASHION #DOPECHEFCLOTHING #FASHION #CLOTHING #TSHIRTS #PANTS #CAPS #HOODIES #SWEATERS

[unspuncreature]

The things Anakin would do for this man. Nothing was too depraved. Nothing too base. The older man had no idea what power he held. Anakin would raze this city if he asked. Reshape the stars. He would give him anything––anything, if his Master would only carve out a piece of himself and let Anakin rest there.

Some scattered laughter sounded in the distance, and for the second time that night, Obi-Wan was pulling away from him.

“No, Anakin,” he said, his tone final. “No.” And with that, he walked off, leaving Anakin panting in the dark.

from ch 4 of That’s My Type by @teaandjumpers

this fic has me gnashing my teeth and barking. the entire work has been rotating in my mind like a gas station hot dog for weeks. i love it so much. i couldn’t rest until i threw a little smthn together for this scene

no-background ver under the cut

[zuzu-draws]

If you're still taking requests, how about your fave character(s) doing something fun and mundane (idk if that's the right word) like cooking or clothes shopping, etc.

Not sure if Sukuna's having fun in that tight apron, but i sure am enjoying the nice view

[gurufallon]

I Smell some Neuroplasticity Cooking.

[jennrypan]

between shere khan and scar who do you found to be hotter

Hm. Share Khan, (Only cuz he was played by Idris Elba in the first live action--)

And also his animation was made by the same guy that made Aristocats and I love it so much

And when the live action came on my brother (straight) fully admitted if he were a female tiger he'd also throw it back. And it was the funniest shit.)

[the-shy-artisan]

you know that feeling you get when you listen to a song you haven’t heard in ages, and it feels like you’re listening to it for the very first time again?

yeah, just felt that while listening to shara ishvalda’s theme.

[sspiderj]

i need the Iron Heart trailer released right this second, i can’t keep listening to the audio

[successions3]

can't believe I'm fucking a blonde guy with blue eyes... if I'm on here in a months time crying bout him breaking my heart after I caught him fucking someone else cause we didn't define the relationship... Tell me to kill myself

[happeehippie]

instagram. j.b.

summary: follow along with joe and his wife evie as they go through is football career.

*face claim is yasmin quintana*

series masterlist.

evie

liked by joeyb_9, lahjay10_, and 780,726 others

evie: “holding hands is like touching souls” 🤍

view all 5,729 comments…

user: how are we supposed to just live with this

user: i’m so jealous

joeyb_9: my girl. 😚

> evie: always always always.

user: do you think he knows she just posts him for attention?

> user: do you think he will ever see this comment? probably not.

user: i’m feeling extremely single right now.

lahjay10_: y’all be holding hands like crazy

> evie: we locked for life. 🤍🔒

user: wait this is actually so sweet, imagine how many pics she has of them just holding hands. she’s so down bad.

joeyb_9

liked by evie, lahjay10_ and 304,837 others

joeyb_9: Green Goblin

view all 2,681 comments…

user: Great football Joe!

user: SHIESTYYYYYY

millyg: joey tell ev to text me back.

user: green like that bank account baby

user: that’s hot

evie: 🥦🥒🍏🫛🫑🥑

> joeyb_9: you gotta calm down.

user: QB is always sharp

evie

liked by bengals, joeyb_9, and 990,864 others

evie: out here

view all 1,863 comments…

user: tell jb to pop a perc and get back out there

> evie: kind of a tactless comment my guy, he’d be out there if he was able.

user: man screwed my fantasy team

> evie: yeah forget your fantasy team, it wasn’t his fault.

user: brave woman

joeyb_9: jacket=dope

user: chefs kiss

user: go bengals!

millyg: i love to see you this happy 💗💗

joeyb_9

liked by bengals, lahjay10_, and 709,950 others

joeyb_9: Just another stage on the journey of life

view all 11,306 comments…

user: praying for you my boy

nfl: 🙏🏼

evie: keep your head up baby, i love you.

> joeyb_9: couldn’t do it without you

joemainmixon: We got you brother!

user: the “he’s back” post next season is going to go crazy

user: get better soon lover

lahjay10_: the comeback will be legendary

user: revenge tour for real next year

cjstroud: 🙏🏾

user: joey take my wrist, i don’t need it.

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 91,736 others

evie: another gamedey in jungle. if you’re not in cincy you stink!

view all 7,728 comments…

user: still going to games??

> evie: ofc. those are my boys!

millyg: my little sweet pea

> evie: 🫛

user: my mom loves you (me too btw)

> evie: i luv ur mom. 😁💗

user: love to see you smiling

user: how is jb?

> evie: inspiring. 💗

joeyb_9: i like you.

> evie: omg thanks for sharing. i like you 2. 🤩🤪

joeyb_9

liked by lahjay10_, evie, and 852,100 others

joeyb_9: Learn to love discomfort

view all 5,793 comments…

lahjay10_: haha i just know you uncomfortable sitting like that. that’s what you mean by the caption?

> evie: lmao ur goofy

user: let’s go jb6

user: biggest qb in the league

user: happy birthday joe we love you!

evie: criss cross applesauce???

> joeyb_9: it’s called indian style. 🙄

> evie: is that what the big kids are calling it??

> user: ev is on his ass

user: it doesn’t go unnoticed you being on the sidelines for your teammates

user: are you and ev going to celebrate your special day?

> evie: we don’t skip bdays around here. even if you have a major surgery..

user: happy birthday king joe!

evie

liked by millyg, joeyb_9, and 890,110 others

evie: bits and pieces

view all 3,611 comments…

user: wishing you and joe a lovely off season and smooth recovery

> evie: 💗💗💗

user: you’ll be back killing it next season! i can’t wait

user: okay, the teddy shirt? CUTE!

> evie: one of my favs

user: always giving us a peek at jb

> user: it’s funny how ev used to be the only one that called him jb and now it’s become one of his many nicknames.

user: going to be missing you this off season.

joeyb_9: puddle pic is 10/10 cuteness

> evie: 🥹💗

joeyb_9

liked nfl, bengals, and 891,028 others

joeyb_9: Sorry for the missed time. Return of the Jedi

view all 10,112 comments…

user: i hope my gf doesn’t see this post

user: miss u

user: see you next year daddy joe

evie: joe you can’t just post this on a monday morning with no warning.

> user: ev saying what we are all thinking

> joeyb_9: oh, i don’t know the rules. i thought this was my account.

> evie: smart. ass.

user: BURROW REVENGE ARC

user: can’t wait to see you back!

evies stories

* last part for now. 😢 *

if you want me to pick this back up once the season starts, give this a big ❤️ hehehe.

[ciaomarie]

Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!

Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor

It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.

She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.

"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.

"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.

"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"

"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"

"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".

"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."

Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.

After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.

"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"

"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.

Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.

"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."

The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.

The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"

"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".

The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).

Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."

"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.

"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.

"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."

Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.

In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.

Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.

"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."

"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."

"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."

Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?

With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"

With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"

Carmy floated behind her.

Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"

[czech-hunter-reject]

in Sense8 when the Cluster all stood up behind Wolfgang and then Lila's cluster all stood up behind her, and then Kala says "bring it, bitch!" and fucking explodes the table with a champagne bottle somehow...... *chef's kiss* CULTURAL RESET!!! MOST DOPE AND FUCKING COOL AS SHIT MOMENT IN THE HISTORY OF FILM AND TELEVISION!!!! FUCK THAT RULED!!!!!!!!!!!

[anistarrose]

after years of living with the twins barry actually picks up a lot about baking but remains a terrible cook, and after years of living with the twins kravitz actually picks up a lot about cooking, but still can't bake to save his life. i feel this in my soul.

barry can make lup proud by effortlessly knocking out a perfect pastry dough because he goes at it with scientific precision, accounting for the humidity of the kitchen and everything. but if he has to make a full course and has anything less than lab procedure-level detail in the instructions, he will panic and most likely set something in the kitchen on fire.

kravitz, on the other hand, cooks entirely based on vibes and deviates from the recipe on a whim. which does mean he can whip up a dope sauce for tonight's pasta or what have you, but if he tries to bake he always winds up with just the driest, most pathetic cakes. together the two of them make up one (1) competent chef in the kitchen

[strawburry01]

That's Not Me

Summary: Reader and Angus listen to your record collection and bond over music and parent problems (it's not very deep)

word count: 2k

Authors Note: this is actually the first stuff I've ever put on tumblr and I've currently been working on this as I'm insanely doped up on wisdom teeth painkillers so sorry if it reads weird. I'm trying to start writing more in general n shit so you have any weirdly niche or specific scenarios or desires pls just shout em out (i see you, you're valid). ALSO: Walk with me here, you're telling me Angus Tully wouldn't be a big fan of the Beach Boys? I know this sad ass mfer would eat Pet Sounds up. It's a short album, do yourself a favor n listen to it (or at least check out the songs I took the blrubs from for this) cause it's some GOOD STUFF. That's all.

You stood over the lone dresser in your room. Your prized possession of a small record player balanced precariously on top of it with your stack of records spread out across the rest of the top. You’d been collecting records even since your first year at St. Mary’s, despite the rules against it that the sisters there tried to enforce at every opportunity.

But they had left you here, alone, at Barton so it’s not like they could complain about it now. Nobody was even here besides you, that odd Professor Hunham, the sweet chef Mary, and that Angus Tully boy. It had been a few days since the rest of the boys had been picked up in a helicopter, leaving the four of you to the echoing halls of the empty school. 

You plucked the new Fleetwood Mac album out of your pile and slipped it onto the turntable before placing the needle gently down onto the black vinyl. Stevie Nick’s smooth vocals began to tinny out of the small record as you tapped your foot to the song as you continued to rifle through your stack of records. 

Your parents had left you to stay at St. Mary’s for break as they were stuck on some business venture in Germany. A pro of these trips, they funded your buying habits in exchange for your passive agreement when it came to these sorts of holidays. You missed the days when you were so young they had to just drag you along everywhere they went. You felt like a real family then. Now it just felt like you were a burden to them- another person for them to give their money to. 

“Where’d you get that?” a voice asked from the doorway, startling you out of your thoughts. You quickly swing to the doorway, still gripping the empty sleeve of Fleetwood Mac. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it was just the lanky figure of Angus, eyeing you with his arms folded. 

“Ever heard of knocking, ya’ prick?” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the music.

“Where’d you get the record player?” he asked again, taking a step into the room. You shrug, keeping your focus on the records and not Angus deciding to invite himself in.

“I stole it from the confiscation closet at St. Mary’s”.

“Really?” he said in shock, almost impressed.

“No, of course I bought it you weirdo” you laughed. He looked much less impressed. “I bought the record player with my own money from working at the pool over the summer, but my parents have given me money for most of these records” you explain, gesturing to the stack. Angus took a spot right next to you, his air of cigarettes and old book pages wafting by you. He stands silently as he begins looking at each record. For him previously having taken every chance for a smart-ass comment at your expense, his silence was a welcome change. For a few minutes the two of you just stood, side by side, flipping over albums and making hums of approval.

“You have Pet Sounds!” Angus said, perking up, as he picked up The Beach Boys album. You can’t help but look over at him. The corners of his mouth are actually pricked up for once, like he’s actually happy.

“You like the Beach Boys?” you asked. He glances over in your direction with his big brown eyes with an incredulous eyebrow raised, in disbelief you would question such things. You can’t help but feel your stomach flip. Honestly how dare someone so annoying be graced with such eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I? They’re really good” he said as he turned back to the album, “d’ya think you can play it?” he asked as he handed it over. You take the album and slide the vinyl out as you place it onto the tabletop. Angus takes a seat at the foot of your bed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“Make yourself at home” you sarcastically said as you started the record, before leaning against the dresser, facing the bed. He laughs.

“Such a generous host” he quips as Wouldn’t it Be Nice starts playing from the album. The song seems to zone him out as he stares into the wall behind you, gently nodding along to the music. 

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long

“What are you still doing up?” you ask, breaking him out of his trance. It was almost midnight, and Hunham would certainly kill you both if he caught wind of you two conspiring. 

“What are you still doing up?” Angus retorted, “it’s not very St. Mary’s of you to be up late listening to such devilish music” he mocked, waggling his fingers in the air for effect. You can’t help but laugh. He loved acting like your hijinks were an act against God ever since you’d been moved over for the break, all just because you went to St. Mary’s. 

“Oh please, the sisters have started praying for my ears because I listen to anything with a guitar,” you say as you swat at him. “They found my single Johnny Cash album and made me clean the dishes for a week to learn…something”. Angus snorted at that and shook his head as the next song faded in from the speakers.

“How have you not gotten kicked out yet?” he asked, “it seems like you just hate it there”. You half heartedly shrug and sit on the corner of the bed he isn’t occupying, your legs graze each other before he quickly moves it closer to his side. You’d be lying if you said your breath didn’t catch in your throat a little. It was a weird experience- being stuck in such close quarters with someone for about a week now. You had both started throwing crumpled up notes to each other during the mandatory class/detention time Hunham prescribed to you both. Most of the notes were just complaining about the situation, how cold it was, how bad Hunham smelled, how hungry you were, how much you wished you were both anywhere else. You drew Angus back a beautiful stick-figure masterpiece of the two of you laying on a beach, although he got pretty mad at how dramatically messy you’d made his hair.

 He would never admit it, but he kept it and used it as a bookmark. 

“I do hate it, but my parents have moved heaven ‘n hell to keep me there, so I’ve kind of just given up on getting out” you said as you looked down at your feet, swinging back and forth above the floor. He silently nodded, sitting with it for a moment before adding.

“My parents are just waiting for me to mess up so they can send me away” he said quietly, suddenly having a vulnerable air about him. He’d never brought this up before to you. Sure he was a bit of a prick, but he didn’t deserve to get sent off to another school just for being annoying sometimes. He balled his fist in an anxious tic on his knee, and before you can stop yourself, your hand is on top of his fist to try and calm him, or be there for him, or just show him he’s not alone, or maybe you did just secretly want to hold his hand, somewhere deep down.

“It’ll be okay” you respond back, softly. You both freeze at your hand resting on top of his. Everything goes silent except Brian Wilson’s voice coming from the record.

Being here with you feels so right, We could live forever tonight, Let's not think about tomorrow

He slowly unfurls his fist and gently begins to entwine his fingers with yours, his hands are warm, and vaguely shaky, like he’s ready for you to pull away at a moment's notice and act like this was all him imagining it. You wait a second before you gently lean your head onto his shoulder, the scent of cigarettes strong from his jacket, and you can hear him inhale sharply before realizing you’re not leaving. 

“You don’t have to pity me y’know. I’m an asshole to everyone, I get what I deserve”

“Shut up Angus”

“Okay” he said with a small laugh as he absentmindedly moved his thumb back and forth on your hand for a while before breaking the silence, “d’ya want to, uhm,-” he says before tripping on his words and going silent again. You can’t help but laugh at him getting stuck on his words, truly a first for him. You nudge your head so you’re looking up at him from his shoulder. He stares intently ahead, as if avoiding your eyes. 

“Want to what? Kiss? Do I really have you this nervous?” you tease him which draws a quick reaction from him. He glares down at you before his face softens and he looks away again. 

“So what if you did” he scoffs and suddenly stands, letting your hand go as he heads to the door. 

“Angus wait I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that-” you say, starting to apologize and follow after him as you stand up. The record skips with an unfortunate scratch before continuing to play. You grab the cuff of his jacket before he can leave.

They say I got brains but they ain't doing me no good, I wish they could

“Angus wait-” you say as you try to pull him back. He turns and suddenly your face is in his hands and his lips are on yours. Before you can react he pulls back and lets you go, leaving him standing in front of you, waiting for your move. 

“I’m going now” he says before turning again to leave the room, acting as if he didn’t just kiss you. You slide by him and slam the door in front of him before he can actually leave. Your back props the door shut as you face him, holding out an accusatory finger.

“No- you’re not just going to kiss me and leave and act like you didn’t just do that” you say, feigning some sense of authority as you look up at him, your finger in his face. His lips twinge upwards again before he goes serious again.

“Should I not have?” he asks, “you were the one who put the idea in my head” he said with a smirk. You jab your accusatory finger closer to his face as you try not to knee him in the crotch right then and there. 

You open your mouth to reply, but before any noise can come out there’s a knock on the door.

“Miss? Everything alright in there?” Hunham asks from the other side of the door. While you stare at Angus in petrified horror for the next few minutes, he can’t help but look rather satisfied with himself. 

“Oh everything’s just fine professor, thanks for your concern!” you answer back, faking a cheerful tone as your eyes never leave Angus’s face, who is failing to conceal his laughing behind his hand, watching you struggle to maintain your cool.

“Mr. Tully doesn’t happen to be in there with you, is he? I noticed his room was empty,” Hunham adds through the door. You stare at Angus’s dumb smirk on his face, scrunched to the side of his face, with his stupid brown eyes looking down at you with a mix of attraction, humor, and misfortune. You grab his jacket collar and pull his face to your level, before swiftly kissing him with the fervor only someone knowing how much trouble they’ll be in for doing so could have. You quickly let go of his jacket and swiftly nudge him back before looking his speechless figure up and down and swinging open the door. 

You fake a large toothy smile for Hunham as you hold your hands in front of you, mustering up any energy you had left for the performance of a lifetime.

“Just showing him my record collection sir. I didn’t realize the Barton boys had such a passion for the music arts” you say, looking over at Angus from over your shoulder to see if he was going to be any help in this. He of course wasn’t and just stayed quiet as he brushed past you to the hallway with Hunham.

“A lovely collection” he murmured in the hallway as he finally made eye contact with you from behind Hunham who shakes his head and sighs.

“I wish you two wouldn’t be slamming doors at midnight, but the music arts is an exciting and important endeavor. Off to bed though, say your goodnights,” he said, as he elbowed Angus, certainly not letting the two of them alone again.

“Night” Angus tells you with his smirk, putting his hands back into his pockets. 

“Goodnight Angus, perhaps we can continue our conversation later tomorrow” you say, leaning against the doorframe with your own smirk looking back at him. Hunham tuts Angus back down the hall but not before he quickly winks at you, and you can only laugh at it all.

[mjfsupremacy]

my baby is better than you, and you know it.

The person who asked me for this apparently doesn't exist anymore, but y'all can have it anyway. Hope it doesn't suck :)

Swearing, very vague descriptions of birth.

You can find all my other work here

*

You suppose you should’ve seen this coming. Banking on a child that was half him not making everything wildly inconvenient. You also supposed you should’ve seen it coming that the other half of your baby’s gene pool would piss you off so badly you’d send him to the other side of the country 3 weeks before your due date just to get him away from you.

Maxwell Jacob Friedman. Love of your life, baby daddy, giant gaping asshole.

Well, here you were, refusing to leave for the hospital, contractions 12 minutes apart and calling his phone over and over while you watched him on the TV.

You could see the rectangular shape in his pocket, you could see the panic deep within his eyes while he bantered with Adam Cole, and you could see the worry starting fill Adam the more he took in his friend.

You decided to switch tactics and you dialled a different number instead. Adam’s eye bug and his hand falls to the pocket in his jeans he keeps his own phone in.

His eyes cut to Max’s in panic and you can see that they’ve both put two and two together to equal baby. They both nod at each other resolutely and Max raises the mic to his mouth fishing his phone from his pocket with his other hand.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, you know me, you know I’m a scumbag who hates every place in this damn country, so believe me when I say there is no where better in America than LA Bay Bay!”

The crowd cheers and Max’s attempt at a cheap pop and he dials his phone. “But unfortunately, I’ve gotta leave the city of angels, there is no where the devil feels more at home.”

You see his name on your phone screen and you accept the call. “The spawn is making its decent.” You growl into the receiver.

“I’M HAVING A BAY BAY!” Max shouts to a ruckus crowd of cheers. “Screw you Sammy Guevara, my baby is better than yours and you know it.”

*

10 hours later you are cussing your way through another contraction, staring at the door and willing your dumb partner to rush through it. The nurses keep telling you to stop fighting your body but you refuse to listen even if you know it’s making you more exhausted trying and failing to keep the baby in rather than out.

When he finally burst through the door, you burst into tears and you relax (as much as you can while in active labour) for the first time since your waters broke.

“You are such an asshole, why are you such an asshole?” You cry, grabbing his hand tight. He listened panicked gaze takes in all of you while he mutters endless apologies. “I love you so much and if you tell anybody I’ll drown you.”

He meets your eyes and returns the pressure to your hand. “Were having a baby.”

“Mini brochacho how cool is that my dude?”

Your gaze falls to the door where Adam stands bouncing like a puppy, arms laden with gifts.

“YOU BROUGHT ADAM COLE ARE YOU FUC-“

*

“I made that. How fucking dope is that?” you sigh, finger gently brushing over your daughter brow.

“Hey! I helped.” Max whispers vehemently in response.

“Did you? I mean I don’t remember you collapsed against the toilet for five months, or watching you waddle places while you dripped sweat.”

“She’s not here without me too making a baby is 50/50 sweetheart.” He states grumpily, gently running his fingers over the tiny hairs above her eyes, tracing each spot after your own fingers.

You scoff, “The level of your help in the creation of this child is akin to my being the head chef in the kitchen and you being the guy who stirs the sauce so it doesn’t congeal. We are not the same, my love.”

“Besides,” You state confidently, watching her little nose crinkle (An exact replica of Max’s) “she’s not yours anyway?”

The nurse in the room dropped her clipboard with a clatter as Max sighs dramatically, “This outta be good. What do you mean she’s not mine?”

“Look, no hooves. Definitely no child of the devil.”

“Are you comparing our daughter to Rosemary’s baby?”

“No, I’m saying how not like Rosemary’s baby she is, keep up, good looking.”

“And here I was worried motherhood was going to change you.”

[tegu-the-tegu]

Flavoured Artificer Concepts

Artificer is by FAR my favourite class in Dungeons and Dragons, primarily for how customisable they can be with regards to their flavour; because of the ability to cast through any tools you are proficient in, it gives a LOT of range to how your magic works. As such, I will put some ideas I have had to build unique Artificers.

An Artillerist that uses woodworking to carve totems; they are flavoured as a tribal shaman that summons the spirits of magical creatures to aid in battle. Their flamethrower turret conjures a dragon spirit to burn their foes, their protector turret calls the spirit of a unicorn to protect the virtuous, and their ballista invokes a manticore spirit to pepper distant foes with spikes. Their other spells can also be flavoured this way, such as Thunderwave being flavoured as an Aerosaur spirit emerging from a totem and flapping its wings to blow enemies away!

A Battlesmith that uses leatherworking to create a horrific stitched Frankenstein's monster for their steel defender. Every time they kill things, they skin the corpses to repair their hideous flesh monster. Or, if you prefer, you could stick with the shamanistic theme from the Artillerist entry, and use leatherworking to maintain the pelt of the first wolf you killed; its spirit inhabits that pelt, and defends you to this day!

An Alchemist that uses chef's tools to create supernaturally delicious food that cures illnesses and grants supernatural abilities. I have actually played this, he used brewers supplies to create caustic acidic drinks, had peppers so hot that it made your breath ignite to cast fire spells, and he would spray sticky toffee over the area for web. He would make food puns, and was named Guido Fiero.

An Armorer that uses jeweller's tools to create bling that imbues them with magical powers. A circlet that grants a force field, a ring that shoots lightning, a pair of bracelets that create thunderous shockwaves when brought together. Then, when you hit level 9, you can have distinct infusion tied to each one! A circlet or diadem or whatever for head armour, necklace for chest armour, anklets for boots, and bracelets or rings for the weapon! Perfect for a wealthy nobleman artificer who wants to broadcast their glamorous lifestyle.

There are loads of other things you can do with each tool proficiency, and it's a shame that the class is so easily pigeonholed into "The Tech Class". Not to say I don't like the gnomish tinker that creates fantastical and crazy gizmos to mimic magical effects. Hell, my character in the campaign I'm not DMing is exactly that, an autognome (Flavoured to look like a normal gnome in the face, so they appear normal when wearing their clothes) that woke up one day in a tinker's lab next to his deceased creator, and then left to try and find a purpose in the world. He has an insect motif, so all of his spells and things are flavoured as small clockwork insects he makes.

But the point is, while that's a staple of the Artificer class fantasy, there are loads of other ideas to flavour it! A calligrapher that writes arcane runes in the air, a potter with a terracotta soldier for a steel defender, a weaver that knits arcane circles, a painter whose drawings become magical effects, a glassblower whose glass figurines come to life, I can't think of one for cartographer's tools, but I bet there is a dope idea in there somewhere!

Even as I mentioned before with leatherworking, you can have the exact same class, the exact same subclass, and the exact same tool, and STILL have wildly different flavour! One is Doctor Frankenstein, the other is a mystical shaman with a spirit guide!

Anyway, that's today's rambling. I would also do a thing on subclasses the Artificer could have, given they only have four, but that's a whole other rant. Besides, this is already a thesis.