#putting this all together took me like 3 hours

[obfuscateyummy]

Welcome to the Pitt

Is this going to be a series? I hope so because I have IDEAS.

No idea what i'm gonna call it but enjoy almost 2,300 words of Dr. Robby x Reader (and their 3 and a 1/2 year old)

5:00 am. The alarm clock was blaring. You groaned as you reached over and hit snooze. You started to drift back off to sleep, when 2 minutes later, your husband’s alarm started going off. “Make it stop,” as you rolled over and put your head on his chest. 

Your husband hit snooze on his alarm. He cleared his throat as he spoke, “Yours is going to go back off in 6 minutes.”

“Don’t remind me,” as you whined. 

“You want me to shower first?” your husband asked as he kissed your forehead. His greying beard tickled your soft skin.

You looked up at him as you spoke, “Can we just lay here a little longer? shower together?”

“Hmm,” he hummed as he adjusted in bed to hold you closer than you already were. “That sounds like the perfect start to the day.”

An hour later, you were wrestling your 3-and-a-half-year-old toddler out of bed and into some clothes. It was a chilly spring morning, and she insisted on wearing a sundress with tank top straps. 

“You have to wear a jacket with that,” you told your daughter for the fifth time that morning. 

“NO jacket, Mommy!” your daughter said as she stomped her left foot.

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Lucy, please.”

Lucy shook her head and put her hands on her hips, causing your husband, who walked up behind you, to laugh.

You turned around and looked him in his eyes with a stern glare.

“Lucy, it’s chilly this morning. Daddy is wearing his jacket,” your husband said, pulling at his navy blue zip-up as he knelt and motioned for the girl to come to him. Lucy ran to her father. “Why doesn’t Lucy wear a jacket too?”

“Yeah!” Lucy said as she ran back into her room to get her jacket.

You sighed as you ran your hands through your hair as your husband stood back up.

“Hey, y/n, you okay?” Your husband asked as he pulled you close to his chest. 

“Fine, Michael, just tired,” you said, as you took a deep breath.

“Coffee should be done. I’ll get it ready. Go sit for a few before we go,” he said as he kissed your forehead. 

He turned to get both your travel mugs ready for your shift at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, or The Pitt, as your husband called it. He was an attending, and you were his fellow. The two of you worked a trauma so seamlessly, you didn’t even need to speak to know what the other was thinking. Everyone who worked with you was envious, including Gloria, who was the chief medical officer. She tried to move you to pediatrics once when you and Michael first started dating. It lasted 2 shifts before she was begging you to go back. You sat on the couch and smiled as you watched him pour your coffee. You remember the first time you saw him. Your first day at The Pitt. He introduced himself as Dr. Robby. Everyone calls him Robby. It was usually a toss-up on if you called him Michael or Robby. He was 13 years older than you, but you didn’t care. His greying hair and beard were attractive to you. Not to mention he was fantastic in bed. You bit your lip daydreaming about being in bed with him the night before. 

“Here ya go, sweetheart.” He handed you your coffee.

You smiled as you took it from his hands. “God, I love you, Robby.” 

“Well, then it’s a good thing we’re married,” he said as he kissed you. 

As he pulled away, you cleared your throat before speaking. “Lucy? You ready, baby?”

“I not a baby, I’m big girl!” Lucy said as she walked out with her backpack on.

You smiled. “You’re right. Are you ready, big girl?”

Lucy nodded. “Ready!”

You stood as you took your daughter’s hand, grabbing your backpack with the other. Michael grabbed his backpack and then Lucy’s other hand. “Let’s go,” he said. 

6:20 am and you were all out the door. The three of you walked down the street, the sun rising just enough that you needed sunglasses. The three of you walked quietly in the crisp morning air. 

About a block down the road, Lucy looked up at Michael. “Daddy? Whens Jake coming over?”

You and your husband made direct eye contact over your daughter’s head. 

“I..don’t know, Lucy,” Michael said.

“Oh,” Lucy said as she put her head down. “I misses him.”

“I can let him know that,” Michael said as his voice cracked. Jake was like a stepson to him. The kid of one of his exes. A few weeks ago there was a mass shooting at Pittfest. Jake and his girlfriend, Leah, were in attendance. Michael tried to save Leah. He broke protocol to try and save her. But he didn’t. Jake blamed Michael for Leah’s death. Michael wouldn’t admit it, but he blamed himself too. Just like he did with Dr. Adamson’s death. And it was tearing him apart. The three of you stopped in front of Lucy’s daycare. Lucy always got excited to go to her daycare. Thankfully, you found one that opened early and stayed open late. Occasionally, your mom would watch her or pick her up, which was a blessing to you and your husband.

Michael let go of Lucy’s hand as he spoke, “Give daddy hugs,” he said.

“You not gonna take me in?” Lucy said, shocked. The two of you always took her in together.

“Not today lovebug. I have something I have to take care of,” Michael said as his eyes shifted from Lucy to you as he knelt to Lucy’s level.

“Come on Luce,” you said, extending your hand to your daughter.

“I love you, daddy,” Lucy said as she wrapped her little arms around his neck.

“I love you too. I love you so much,” Michael said as he hugged his little girl. 

As the hug broke, Lucy ran up to you and grabbed your hand. You smiled at your husband before taking her into the building and checking her in. 

You walked out from the daycare and saw Michael putting his phone away. You walked up to him and the two of you began your final trek to the hospital.

“So,” you said, “What did you have to take care of?” 

“I texted Jake. Told him even if he didn’t want to see or talk to me that Lucy misses him. She doesn’t deserve this.” “You don’t deserve this,” you said as you took his hand.

“I didn’t save her. I couldn’t save her.” Michael’s voice was cracking as he spoke.

“You did more than any of us, Robby,” you said. Michael shrugged his shoulders as you walked up to the hospital doors. You turned and looked at him, “One more kiss before we go in.”

Michael nodded as he kissed you. You tried to prolong the kiss by grabbing at the hood of his zip up. He moaned your name against your lips as he pulled away and spoke, “We have to go in.”

“I know,” you said as you let go of his hood. You looked up and his greying beard, shuffled brown hair, and his deep brown eyes. You swear you fall in love with him more every time you look at him.

The two of you walked through the door. As you reached the door to the ED, Michael scanned his badge. He held the door open for you. “After you, Dr. Robinavitch.”

You smiled up at your husband. “Thank you, Dr. Robinavitch.”

The sounds of chaos. Monitors beeping, lights humming, and the hallway filled with the overfill of patients.

6:45. Welcome to the Pitt.

[pazziiiiiiii]

This is my first fic and I don’t even know if this is good or no but lmk if you want another part cause if you like it I’ll make it a series but we’ll see!! I like a lot of angst cause otherwise I find stories boring so there will probs be a lot.

This is like their whole life starting from quarantine so because of that it’ll probs be a longer series if y’all like it but lmk idk about it cause if y’all don’t like it I won’t continue. Be completely honest with me I don’t care if it’s mean!!

Word count: 2.3k

2020 - Paige POV

Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd have always been inseparable from the day they met in the team USA tryouts. That day where they were both shaking with nerves and were put on the same team to scrimmage. Instantly it looked as if they had been playing with each other for years, somehow knowing where the other would be at all times and able to get an easy bucket. That’s what sparked their friendship through the whole tournament. Until they found out they were being separated after it.

However, even when they lived on other sides of the country it was like they were still together. They FaceTimed every chance they could and were talking to each other constantly (if not it was about the other to their family). They had late night conversations that went on for hours into the night, until someone fell asleep and they woke up in the morning with the call still running. On the few times it was Paige who stirred first (because she always slept in later), she would wake up confused at first to see her phone screen shining, but then would notice the person on the screen and her heart would flutter the slightest bit. She always gets this feeling looking at Azzi, since the day she saw her. But these feelings were long pushed away because Paige was too afraid to admit what they were.

But, even if they talked constantly, they were still itching to actually be with each other so they could prove who was the better hooper, instead of trash talking through a screen. This was a dream they knew would never come true considering how far away they lived.

That was until Paige had an idea. A crazy one, but a good one. She was going to surprise Azzi. She was going to come live with the Fudd’s in quarantine. Just the thought made Paige excited.

Paige loved Tim and Katie Fudd, they were amazing. They had been at the entire USA tournament and because Azzi and her had already become so close, she was introduced to them. And they welcomed Paige in immediately. They saw how Azzi and her were together and knew they would be best friends. So they quickly supported Paige liked their own daughter. They loved her and Paige knew it.

This made Paige even more eager to come stay with them, because this kind of love was different to her own home. She lived with only her dad and hid new wife because her mom left when she was 3. Her dad loved her a lot, yes, but he also was quite lost in how to support his child. So Paige was distant from him, very. She didn’t express her feelings or anything of that sort to him. Leet alone anyone else.

Except Azzi. Even though it was not much Paige told her, and it took Azzi a lot to get anythibg out of her, it was more than anyone else. Because she listened and understood Paige. Knew when something was off and how to fix it. Which made her appreciate Azzi even more.

But with all this in mind, Paige was still nervous of how living months with her best friend would go. It wasn’t like the Fudd’s were scary or anything, of course not. But whenever Paige saw her she was forced to push down the feeling that she was scared to admit. That she could never admit.

So when she texted Katie to ask if she could stay, it took a lot longer than expected.

After a lot of tries, she finally settled on:

Hey Katie, it’s Paige. I was wondering if I could stay with you guys for quarantine and surprise Azzi? If you guys start tomorrow I could get there then? I really think it would be a good idea if it’s ok with you?

When she finally clicked send, she tossed her phone to the side, trying to let her mind rest and her nerves settled.

After a couple minutes a buzz vibrated through her phone and Paige picked it up straight away. Of course it was from Katie:

Hey Paige, that sounds like a great idea! We’ll pick you up from the airport tomorrow just text us.

Paige let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. She quickly responded to Katie and booked her flight for the earliest one she could. She could just imagine Azzi’s face when she saw her. Her beautiful, brown curls that matched her brown, doe eyes and her lips that-

Paige had to stop these thoughts. She couldn’t think about her best friend like that, it was wrong to like her like that. Especially when she was going to live with that girl for at least a couple weeks.

Once Paige had finally stopped thinking about that, she realised she was going to have to tell her dad. The dad who doesn’t know how to parent her. The dad who is very religious. The dad who doesn’t know how to properly to talk his child, so instead he resorts to yelling at her. Getting mad at her for the slightest things. It’s not like he doesn’t love his daughter, but he just doesn’t know how to be a parent.

Paige decided she just had to get this over with, so she set her phone down and slowly started to go downstairs. She didn’t know how she was going to tell him. Should she ask or just tell him without a yes or no option. She decided on the second one cause, well she already booked her flight and also she didn’t want him to say no (which he was going to do anyway).

When she saw him he was at the table, glasses on and looking at his laptop. He didn’t even look up, not a care in the world, as if she didn’t even exist. Paige slowly went up to him and was forced to start the conversation herself.

“Um bob- I mean dad…” She slowly said, her father’s real name slipping from her mouth like usual. She usually just couldn’t bring herself to say dad because of how little he was as one.

Bob hummed in response, still failing to look up from his laptop. He looked like he didn’t want to talk to her, as always.

“I was just gonna tell you,” Paige started, not bothering to give him warning. “I’m gonna say with Azzi and her family for a while during quarantine. I’ve already told Katie and Tim and booked my flight and stuff, I leave tomorrow morning.” She rushed out, as if it would end this conversation sooner.

Bob finally looked up, his expression blank, only his brows were furrowed, showing the only sign of emotion. Anger.

“You weren’t even gonna ask me at all, just decided to do it without any permission?” He said firmly, the anger obviously rising through his tone.

“I just really want to go and I don’t want to stay here. I haven’t seen Azzi in so long and I’m gonna surprise her.” Paige replied, not even bothering to be respectful about it.

But then, Bob said something Paige would have never thought he would say. Making her wish she never even said anything in the first place.

“Of course you wanna visit Azzi, why don’t you just go live with her and ask her to be your girlfriend. You better not ask her or you can stay there forever.” He said strongly, his voice raising to a yelling level.

Paige stood in front of him, still. Frozen in shock. She didn’t think he thought about it that way. Didn’t think he would take it that far. I mean she knew something was different and she thought about girls differently, but she had been pushing it down for so long, forcing herself to not feel that way. Now he said it, being very religious he would never forgive her if that was the case.

They both stared at each other for what felt like hours, until Paige finally spoke up.

“I’m leaving at 6:00, I’ll get an uber. I’ll see you when I get home.” She said flatly, turning around and going back to her room, ignoring his voice yelling at her behind her shoulder to come back.

When she got there, she just layed down, staring at the ceiling with her thoughts filling her mind. She knew Azzi was expecting her to call, and Paige was going to, but she didn’t know what to say. Azzi would know something is wrong, that’s just how she is. But Paige knew Azzi was the only person she could to talk to right now.

So she picked up her phone and clicked on ‘Az’ instantly. The line only rang twice when she saw the younger girls face pop on the screen.

“Hey P, took you long enough, it’s literally midnight.” Azzi said with a teasing tone.

“Sorry, was just talking to my dad.” Paige tried to get the words out strongly, attempting to push the lump forming in her throat down. But that was not the case, and Azzi, of course, could tell.

Her face softened almost instantly, knowing what her dad was like, she knew it was something bad, otherwise Paige would never have talked to him in the first place.

“What’s up P?” She asked, voice laced with concern.

“Nothing I’m fine,” Paige answered a little too quickly.

Knowing Paige’s walls she built were very difficult to break, Azzi quickly replied.

“Just answer Paige I know somethings up, you can tell me I’m here.” When Paige didn’t reply, Azzi added, “you have to let me in P it’s not gonna help you.”

Paige knew she should tell Azzi, should tell her what was wrong and how she was feeling. But Paige couldn’t, she had so much built up anger that she couldn’t stop from coming out, so she let it out on Azzi.

“Just stop Az, you don’t always have to know what’s happening I can figure it out on my own, I’ve done it plenty of times before.” Paige knew she shouldn’t have even let the words come out of her mouth as soon as they left.

Azzi’s face froze for just a second, but Paige caught it. She saw the hurt and confusion that flashed through her eyes, but was also gone as soon as it was there.

A long moment passed before Paige spoke up again, the anger settling in her as she pushed it down.

“I’m sorry Azzi, I shouldn’t have said that. I just…” Paige stopped to think about her words, looking down at her fiddling hands that wouldn’t stop moving, before continuing, “I just need to figure it out on my own, he got mad is all, I’ll tell you another time, but I gotta go.”

Paige knew it wasn’t true. And so did Azzi. They both knew that Paige would stay on for hours if she wasn’t feeling so many things at once. Just looking at Azzi made her calmer. But she couldn’t, she needed to stop talking to her best friend before the things her father were saying happened.

“Tell me when you can P, I’m here.” Azzi said softly, the same hurt all over her face as she hung up the call.

Paige stared at her phone for a moment as her screen turned black. She was panicking, the voice of her dad’s words echoing in her mind. Repeating the phrase over and over again. You better not ask her or you can stay there forever. The words had hit Paige harder than she should’ve let them. Deep down she knew that what he said was true. But she had pushed it down for so long, now wasn’t the time she wasn’t going to let up on that. Not now, not ever. Azzi was straight anyway, she would never think that way about her. It was something she had just excepted.

When Paige finally took her eyes off the screen in-front of her, she was breathing heavy and fast. She needed fresh air.

Whenever Paige felt like this she did one of two things. Go play basketball because it was the one thing she loved to do. Or when she couldn’t do that, she would sit on her roof. So that is what she did.

Paige opened the window and stepped out, the cold Minnesota air hit her face instantly, but she wasn’t fazed. Once she got to the top of her roof her breathing instantly slowed. This was the one way (besides Azzi) Paige could get rid of her racing mind, even just for a small time, it was everything to her.

She stared up at the night sky for a while, not thinking about anything but the stars above her.

Azzi POV

Azzi knew exactly what Paige was doing right now. She couldn’t go out to the court and hoop because it was snowing (not that it’s stopped her before), so the only thing she could be doing was sitting on the roof looking at the sky.

Being able to understand Paige and know what she was doing came easily for Azzi. It was like she was made to do it.

In this moment she knew something was wrong. Paige hadn’t told her too much about her father, but it was more than she’s told anyone ever, and it was enough to understand what happened to her in the conversation they had tonight.

But in moments like Paige was having now, there was nothing Azzi could do to stop her. She had already built the walls around her, she had tried to break them down but they never let up, so she just had to wait for her. Even though Azzi knew it wasn’t healthy for Paige to do, she couldn’t do anything about it.

[sillyteecup]

Requiem for my lover

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/cursing

Suggestive content

Angst (mention of death)

Word count: 1487🧍🏾‍♀️

A.N: So, italics=flashback. Mila and Terry shenanigans?? I'm not too sure...Welp, happy reading and I hope you enjoy the latest installment of the Milaverse where allegedly only 3 things are constant: Mila, Terry, and smut.

~Tee❤

“You know I’m always gon’ be here for you, right Mimi?” Terry vowed as he clasped the stainless steel necklace around her neck.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Mila replied before turning around to face her lanky boyfriend. She shifted her weight onto the tips of her toes to plant a small peck on his cheek.

A light shade of red tinted his honey skinned features. Even while celebrating 6 months as an official couple, Terry couldn’t help but still be awestruck. The moment Mila had set foot into his homeroom as a new transfer student, she had stolen his heart (and those of many other horny adolescent boys in his class). Being on the football team usually had its perks for him and his teammates in the romantic avenue, but Mila had no interest in the sport. She went from refusing to waste her energy on a “breast milk flavour of rugby” jock, to being his girlfriend in over a year.

As her feet shuffled on the dirt, hand in hand with Ndoni’s, Mila’s fingers fidgeted with the small T charm dangling from the necklace Terry had gifted her on her 17th birthday. She was 42 now, and it had long rusted, but still she cherished it all these years later. Not the first gift, but one of the most special. Right after their baby girl of course. A small smile appeared at the sight of the 5 year old trekking through with a basket swinging in her other hand…excited to talk to “Dada”.

Because Terry had more than football in his arsenal. He also had strict Southern parents that kept his manners in check. Now the girl of his dreams was his girlfriend, and if he had a say in the matter: she would be his wife in the future.

“6 months old, and she already as stubborn as her momma,” he grumbled, making Mila chuckle behind him. He had been trying to put her to sleep for an hour and nothing was working. Lullabies make her dance and giggle, feeding led to kicking and screaming, walking around and rocking her gently led to wet raspberries in his face. Virtually nothing was working.

“What happened to her being “Dada’s lil twin”?” Mila laughed as she gently took their daughter from Terry’s arms. “Pass me her fleece blanket,” she said as she positioned the babbling baby onto her back. 

Terry obliged, covering his daughter’s back with the soft blanket while Mila used a safety pin to keep it tied together in the front. He watched in awe and wonder as Mila strolled around the room, singing Love like you by Rebecca Sugar softly. It wasn’t long before their energetic little ray of sunshine was asleep. Mila smirked triumphantly at Terry who responded with a playful eye roll. 

“Better get them numbers up if you still tryna be parent of the year lil’ nigga,” Mila teased, earning a gasp of disbelief from Terry.

“Girl, first of all, ain’t shit little about me. Second of all, I didn’t even know you was in the runnin’ with how far behind you’ve been Mimi,” he joked with an exaggerated roll of his head.

Ndoni detangled her tiny hand from Mila’s, placing it on her waist as her cheeks puffed up to blow out an exasperated sigh. Her eyebrows knitted in frustration, hazel eyes frustrated and in equal parts calculating. Mila snorted at the sight of their little “adventure cadet” attempting to estimate the distance remaining.

“Tired soldier?” she questioned playfully. The toddler straightened her posture, sporting a determined expression that matched Terry’s to a T. “Dada’s lil twin” to the bone.

“Sir, no sir!” Ndoni’s tiny voice called out, tugging a reluctant giggle from her mother. “General Mama! You’re not supposed to laugh! You have to be serious, like General Dada,” she whined, crushing a dead leaf with the stomp of her little foot.

Mila swallowed the last giggle that threatened to mutate into something ugly. Something Ndoni definitely did not need to see on their “Dada Day”. While Terry always encouraged them to be vulnerable and never hide their monsters from him, “General Dada’s” teachings of being a soldier that marches on after they fall were the ones that seemed to resonate with their mini-cadet. Although interpretation did tend to get lost on the colourful mind of their little genius.

“I’ve been thinking Mimi,” Terry lamented from the driver’s seat.

“Weh Nkosi…”

“Okay, one, that’s not very nice,” he said, clutching his chest in false hurt. Mila rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth in, waiting for him to continue. “Two, this the third time you’re graduating and for some reason, I still ain’t had the chance to fuck you in a graduation gown. What’s up with that?” they had reached a stop light and Terry took the opportunity to shoot her a questioning look.

Mila stared at him, glossy lips agape at the outrageous question before bursting into a disbelieving cackle. Her outburst however died down when she realized that he wasn’t laughing or even smirking.

“Oh, you’re serious? Wow,” was all she could respond with.

Terry’s features deepened into a frown. “Wow? I’m asking real questions here and all you have to say is “wow”?” he asked incredulously, only inciting a shrug as a response from his fiance.

The light turned back to green, continuing their journey to their apartment. Where they would be celebrating her PhD in Electrical Engineering. With their friends and some of Mila’s family. Although, if you subtracted the latter two factors, it wasn’t a bad idea.

“I mean you could tonight. You know, after everybody leaves,” she suggested, her hand creeping over his thigh, palming his manhood. She watched the muscles in his jaw tense as he struggled to keep his eyes open. A strained groan erupted from his throat while his right hand slowly removed hers from his crotch and placed it back on the arm rest.

“I need you to know that I’m not gonna stop till I get you pregnant. Gon’ have another genius running around with her momma’s big brains real soon,” he promised, brushing his palm over her exposed thigh.

The calm fall breeze barely lifted the dirt and leaves on the ground. Yet Mila still couldn’t help but shiver as she stood before him in a salut. “Finally!” Ndoni cheered before hurriedly placing the basket beside her.

“General Dada, Cadet Ndoni and General Mama reporting for duty,” Ndoni recited, mimicking her mother and performing the salut Terry had taught her the moment she could walk. 

“At ease soldier,” Mila whispered shakily, her hand coming down to tighten her coat.

Ndoni dissolved the salut and turned her attention to the basket. Mila watched through clouding eyes as her and Terry’s little bundle of intellect and adventure retrieved the couple’s signature pink picnic blanket and laid it on the ground. Mila then began to empty the basket of its other contents, being all of Terry’s favorite foods and drinks: a cranberry juicebox for Ndoni and a bottle of Jack for him and Mila. Paper plates, plastic cutlery and their cups, each of which brandished with their names, were set out in threes. Perfect for a family picnic.

Finally, Mila and Ndoni sat down across from him. Choking back a pool of a now familiarly painful emotion, Mila listened as Dada’s lil twin rambled animatedly about her first month in her new preschool class. She even engaged, laughing at Ndoni’s jokes about her classmates’ antics, clapping at the mention of her learning to read and humming in agreement when needed.

At the request of her toddler, Mila shared some PG tales of her own. It only tore at the very thin elastic holding her together for their baby. But damn the way every second weighed heavier on her eyes. Damn the way the mild air made her yearn for his touch. 

Damn him. 

Damn him for bringing them here. Damn him for leaving them. Damn him for leaving her. For breaking his promise.

“You know I’m always gon’ be here for you, right Mimi?” 

While Ndoni had settled into the monthly tradition they created, 7 months had passed and Mila was yet to accept it. Or the reason for its creation rather. Because no matter how hard she tried, mourning her husband still felt like getting caught in a tsunami. They had been together for so long that he had become the air in her lungs. But now he was gone, and she was drowning in grief.

“Dada, I miss you. Mama misses you too,” she heard Ndoni whisper, snapping her from the void that was her mind. 

Finally, a tear escaped Mila as their daughter moved to touch her Dada. Or his gravestone rather.

Terrence James Richmond Husband. Father. Son. Best friend. 03/17/1994-06/24/2035 Never let a little tumble stop your march forward. ~”General Dada”

[luna-the-bard]

Put off posting art so I could just throw everything in one post but now it backfired and I have a little Too Much Art lmao

Anyways we got stuff. Strap in.

One time Eithel sees news about some IPC building exploding, and she knows boothill is there. And she’s worried sick that he got hurt or even died, because he disappears for the next several weeks.

(First because he had to get patched up at the mechanic’s, because yes, he did sustain some severe damage; then — because he had to lay low, making sure he loses the ipc dogs that were hot on his trail.)

Eithel spends the first night pacing around the bedroom, biting the pad of her thumb as she’s trying to convince herself that he’s fine, he probably just has to hide, or he’s on the run because the IPC is still trailing him, but he’s fine, he’s okay, surely-

And then he doesn’t come back the following day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that…

(It’s not unusual for him to blow up entire buildings or ships during missions; hells, she even asked him to do that once herself, when she discovered a human trafficking ring base! But he’s never gotten caught up in the explosion like this before. The low-res security footage from the news report haunts Eithel, the blur of silver hair and red fabric so unmistakably him.)

Once Boothill comes home, she’s glued to his side like a leech for the foreseeable future. Holding him and kissing him and pressing her cheek to the cold metal of his chest to listen to the low rhythmic whir of the machinery inside.

(It’s really no wonder; she spent close to three weeks worried sick and crying herself to sleep every night, how could she not treasure every moment that Boothill is by her side again? When she first saw him, back safe and sound from his long absence, she clung to him like a koala for a good hour-and-a-half.)

She’s constantly holding his hand and intertwining their fingers and bringing his palm up to her lips to press gentle kisses all over. Boothill can’t do anything even remotely productive for days, because Eithel keeps taking his face into her hands and silently staring up at him, or crawling into his lap and hugging him for a solid thirty minutes minimum.

Boothill finds out that Eithel stayed put waiting for him for the entire time he was gone; the phantom warmth in his chest is so strong he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He tells Eithel she shouldn’t have delayed her travel plans because of him — and to his further confusion, she gets visibly upset at the mere suggestion that she would leave before making sure Boothill is safe and unharmed. What if he was injured? What if he needed help? If she can’t track him down on her own, the least she can do is stay in their hideout and wait for him to find his way back to her. (And you bet she’ll have the first aid kid — whatever it looks like for cyborgs — ready and on standby the entire time.)

Tldr: Boothill gets a little blown up during a mission and goes missing for three weeks. Upon his return to the safehouse, he is surprised to find out that Eithel stayed there, postponing her planned trip to wait for him.

I also got some facial expressions practice for Eithel and this cute lil Boothill sketch (the idea of Boothill with a slight stubble has permeated my brain and made a home for itself 💔 it’s too late for me now…)

And finally, I did some more work on that older Eithel wip I have <3

That background is finally starting to come together. There’s still a thousand tiny details that need rendering, and I’d like to work on the actual background more as well bc I think it needs more contrast, but oh wow, look, there’s already so much done! :)

ngl that floor might be my favorite part of the background lol. took the least amount of time but looks so so scrumptious. I’m very proud of the tree but it still needs more work meanwhile these tiles are ready to go as is x)

[dvinefem]

untitled elriel vibes pt. 4

miss elain is back & feeling all the feels. v short but we're chuggin' along. also tysm for the love :') i've got lots more written up, it's just in my nature to be nervous about sharing & then hold them hostage lol part 1. | part 2. | part 3. (a masterlist is my next order of business, but it's late in my corner of the world. i will get to it i swear.)

In a cold sweat, Elain tore the quilted blanket away from her body. She tossed in her bed, sheets in disarray, growing a bit hot under the collar. It had been three days since the night she and Azriel slept soundly in each other’s arms. Even if it had only been a few hours at best, it was the most peaceful rest she'd gotten in quite some time.

Three days since he'd carried her back to her bedroom just ahead of dawn's first light. Before the birds began chirping their morning melodies. Before anyone would notice. He took his leave with a tender kiss to the top of her head that felt like a promise.

Those three days felt like a small eternity.

She blew out a long suffering sigh. She must have truly gone mad this time.

Her herbal remedies wouldn’t relax her. A bath would not suffice. A walk in the garden certainly wouldn’t do. Not anymore. Everywhere, everything filled her mind with thoughts of him.

How had she gotten to this point? When had she become so torturously consumed by him?

The logical side of her brain told her that it should be wrong, that she should not feel this way. Yet every breath, every beat of her heart belonged to him.

She’d spent countless hours lying awake wondering if she was broken. The way her sisters spoke of their bonds..

It was rather curious, really. To be tied to another. To someone she felt no pull toward, save from a pitiful thread that tugged at her rib. A mortifying shackle placed upon her just after being torn apart and pieced back together by the cauldron. An attachment she did not want, nor ask for. Doomed to an immortal life stripped of choice.

Was she so wretched to not want any part of it? This rare connection that fae believed to be a gift.

To Elain, it was no gift. It was no blessing. It was agony.

And Lucien… he was handsome, witty. He’d proven to be a fine male.

But he was not Azriel.

Azriel, who had made her feel safe and cared for. Even in silence. Azriel, who had put his own life at risk to save her without hesitation. Azriel, who had gone out of his way to listen to her. Not just listen. Hear her, see her, know her.

After Solstice, Elain was sure she’d misread him. She was sure she had somehow distorted his display of friendship, twisting it into desire. He didn’t want her. Not after he’d pulled away. Told her it was a mistake, vanishing into the shadows. And in his months long avoidance of her, she cursed herself for feeling so.. deprived of his company. Thought herself a hopeless, foolish girl. Upset with him, yes, but even more furious with herself.

But then he appeared in the garden. Disheveled and forlorn. And she couldn’t help but to reach out her hand.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to pretend you mean nothing to me, he'd whispered. Baring his soul.

The impenetrable spymaster had let her in — offered a piece of his heart to her. Even if it was a minuscule glimpse into the chasm of his mind.

She would keep that piece of his heart safe. Locked away inside of her own.

Elain’s gaze slid over to the window, staring out at the moon. Wondering if, wherever he was.. if he’d be looking at it too. She could still feel the ghost of him on her skin, the way his strong arms wrapped around her as they slept.

My exquisite winged warrior. My fearsome male of shadows. Do you long for me just as I, for you?

Gods. Her mind was going to swallow her whole. She released a frustrated huff, feeling ignited with the thought of Azriel’s hands on her body. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think.

Trembling fingertips trailed up her thigh. The gentle touch leaving a path of fire in its wake. When she’d finally allowed herself to graze her sensitive, aching center — she found herself already slick with the desperate arousal that pooled there. She whimpered into her pillow.

Mother save her.

[bestagons]

What Dan and Phil Text Each Other 4 + Familect (article)

[prince-liest]

A little bit of celebratory light in the current political climate: I'm working with a local endocrinologist who is versed in gender-affirming care as well as my local LGBTQ+ resource organization to start a quarterly pride clinic that I'm going to run with and staff with the aforementioned endocrinologist. I don't know yet how successful it will be, but we're in a really under-served area and a lot of the local federally qualified health centers are pulling back their gender affirming care offerings due to the recent federal policies so that they can retain their funding, which after speaking to my residency program directer he seems to believe is unlikely to affect us. So I'm going to be working with our program attendings and this endocrinologist to help refer more queer and especially trans patients to myself and one of my seniors who is also really involved in LGBTQ+ health goals for gender-affirming care.

The clinic itself is only going to be quarterly at this time (hopefully monthly in the future) due to the limitations of patient panel sizes and also residency scheduling, but we're hoping that we can also follow these patients in our actual primary clinic, since it will all be in the same building and part of the same system, and the endocrinologist has said she is willing to co-precept these patients (aka. have us forward her the notes and look over them to make sure the care plans are copacetic, as well as get curbsided by us when needed) when we work on hormone therapy in the primary care clinic. I think the main challenge is going to be 1) making sure we have the resources and access to a good multidisciplinary team (main points are mental health resources (gonna ask one of the psych program attendings, he is both openly queer and invested) and infectious disease specialist options that aren't going to result in bad experiences for the patients that we refer that way) and 2) making sure we have appropriate follow-up for patients, which I think on my end is just going to mean me telling our clinic coordinator, "Hey, if it's for this patient panel specifically, you can book me an extra patient per half-day for continuity."

We're also going to be doing internal-ish referral advertising through the LGBTQ+ org, as well as training through the organization and also just through research done by myself and my senior for our co-residents for things like cancer screening guidelines adjusted for risk factors we see in queer people (anal paps, three-site testing, when to screen for breast cancer in trans women, etc, etc). Waiting on my program director to talk to our clinic coordinator to see if there's any way for people to self-refer straight to the pride clinic (probably insurance-dependent) but otherwise it's just...happening.

I think my main wish is that I had more days to directly work with this endocrinology attending to pick her brain. She said she's game for any [redacted weekday] for the clinic once we get things going and I'm on my endocrinology rotation, but I'm mostly working with another endo and only see her twice this month due to her work schedule. She's a great teacher and next time I see her this month I'm going to see if she has time to give me a crash-course on HRT management that will help me synthesize the gender dysphoria treatment clinical practice guidelines I'm reading through from the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology and Metabolism. My PD actually specifically referred a trans patient to us to see that day because he knows I really want more experience with this (and, y'know, she's a great endo doc) so that will be the perfect opportunity.

Anyway! It's a great time to be working on offering more medical resources to LGBTQ patients.

[plantenjoyer]

I SWEAR I KEEP TRYING TO DO ART BUT THEN SOMETHING GETS IN THE WAY AND THEN I PROCRASTINATE AND THEN SIX MONTHS PASS

[hotroadkill]

today 2 years ago i was in america and i had the worst hangover of my life and i was in a waffle house with my friend in awkward silence bc we’d fought in a stranger’s kitchen the night before and the server refilled my water for the 5th time while i fought to swallow half a forkful of hashbrowns and she said “i know that look, y’all had a good time at the superbowl last night” and i was thinking actually we had a mediocre time at a nerd bar where u throw darts and all the drinks r named weird things and anyway my friend gives the fakest laugh ive ever heard followed by “yep we sure did” like are we in a CW show right now what was that line delivery and also what even is the superbowl i was born here and should know but honestly i’ve always just pictured everyone gathering at a comically large bowl of cereal but her nametag says leslie and she’s really nice and she’s refilling my water for the 6th time so yeah sure whatever i’m a red blooded american i’ll be anything for leslie in this moment and she tells us stories about working at bars downtown and my friend tells me bad jokes and i feel a little better even though my heart is kind of withering away because my flight is in 17 hours and theres not enough time never enough time i won’t see him for another year and a half and i won’t ever see leslie again and if i ever run into the italian stranger who fell in love with me over darts then it won’t be the same because we won’t be dancing and i’m sitting in a waffle house while the sun sets and i’m sweating gin and tequila and my flight is in 16 hours and i have so many goodbyes to say in this

city because when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out much less back together but i feel like ive been trying for eight years all the same and my flight is in 15 hours but maybe if my friend brings me home now i can spend three of those looking for more shards even though i’ll cut my hand because time never wore down any of the hurt because time might heal wounds but it cant really do jack shit about a metaphysical glass shard its still gonna make me bleed and my friend brings me home and we curl up beside each other in my childhood bedroom thats too small for us it was really a supply room but it became my bedroom when i was eleven and i painted it blue and put up stickers of fish and never took them down but someone someday will take them down and hopefully the house burns to the ground before anyone can touch them theyre mine i grew up here theyre mine dont touch them dont please dont please please please i grew up here and my flight is in 12 hours now because i fell asleep beside my friend and he let me because he knew i needed it he kept watch even though we dont have time we never do because he has to go now and all i can give him is a hug and my hoodie to keep safe until i can see him again and fight him in a stranger’s kitchen again and the sun is gone now and i go and i sit with my dad and my flight is in 10 hours and im trying

not to cry im trying to stare at the stickers because maybe if i look at all of it hard enough i’ll get to stay but i dont because thats not how it works and now my flight is in 4 hours because i fell asleep in my childhood loft bed and now i have to leave i have to pack up and go for the fifth time and it never never gets easier and i know i only have a few more trips left until someone takes my stickers down and paints over my ocean but for now my best friend’s stepmother comes with me and my dad to the airport because my best friend is in college two states away and my flight is in 3 hours and i cry i cry so much and she cries too because she loves me and i think it is such a beautiful blessed thing that i am so loved but oh it is so painful too because i spend more time in its absence than its presence and my flight is in 2 hours and i have to go and my dad is waving goodbye and i see it because i looked back because im stupid i always look back i never look forward i’m forever walking blind through my life because i’m looking back and i can tell my dad is crying and now i have to go through TSA sobbing and it’s awkward because they ask are you okay kid and im not but i cant tell them sorry its just that when i was fifteen somebody threw my glass heart onto the floor of my childhood house and bits of it shattered everywhere and fell into the cracks of the floorboards and behind the fridge and i’ll never ever get them out i cant tell them that so i nod yes im okay and i go and my flight is in 1 hour and i hope it fucking crashes and my flight is in the air and im so far away from all those shards on the kitchen floor now but they’re hurting me all the same and i think i look kind of insane sobbing in the middle seat but how can i miss so many people and so many rooms at once and not lose my mind a little bit? i was going to tell you a short witty little joke about the time i realized i was 21 and didnt know what the superbowl was but i think i slipped on a shard. i’m sorry. maybe next time i’ll get it right. maybe in another two years. maybe you’ll never see me again. maybe this is all the time we had.

[anothermonikan]

'In 33 hours this will all be over, whether you do it good or not you wont have to worry about it anymore, cmon Andy, you got this! You got this!' <<< trying to do their last assignment

[rafesangelita]

♡ rafe accidentally puts barry on speaker..

warnings: enemies to ???, bitchy!kook!reader might make some of you frustrated but please just trust the process loll, teasing, flirty banter, majorrrr sexual tension, slight angst, mentions of absent parents/abandonment, arguing

a/n: this is part four of this mini series <3 i cannot believe i’m writing one more part to this before it’s over. thank you to everyone who continue to show their love and support, it truly means so much to me!!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 3.0k

“you’re going over to rafe’s and you didn’t even tell me?!” chanel shot up from her spot on your bed while you ran around your room trying to put an outfit together. “i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay?! all he said was that we got off on the wrong foot and he wants to start over. that’s it.” chanel arched a brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “he sooo wants to fuck you, please tell me you’re not playing coy just to give him the benefit of the doubt.” you stayed silent, avoiding her gaze.

“y/n—”

“nothing is gonna happen between us. you and topper are dating now, so it would only be fair if me and rafe could at least try to get along since we’ll be around each other a lot more.” your best friend scoffed, not buying a single word that was coming out of your mouth. “don’t use me and topper as your excuse for giving rafe a chance, just say you’re interested in him! it’s totally fine if you are..” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you scanned your closet for a pair of heeled boots. “wow, chanel. i’m honestly offended that you think i’d ever give rafe a real shot.”

slipping on your shoes, you cursed under your breath as chanel watched you struggle with the zipper. “well, excuse me,” she strutted off, plopping down on your bed once again, “i just thought since you were totally eye fucking him out on the golf course the other day that you’d at least have agreed because there was some kind of attraction there.” you huffed. of course she’d bring that up. “i may have called him every single name in the book, but i never said he wasn’t handsome, alright? anyone with eyes would tell you the same thing.” you rolled your eyes once you heard her cackle. “whateverrr!”

one hour and three outfit changes later, and you found yourself posing for chanel’s camera as she snapped pictures of you in your sexy getup. “it should be a crime that you look this hot and you’re just going to rafe’s house. like he seriously needs to take you to the mainland and show you off or something.” you were quick to grab your purse and make your way downstairs once you saw that you were already running thirty minutes late. “will you be here when i get back?” you asked her, spritzing some perfume in the curve of your neck. “uhh, duh! i’m gonna need all the dirty details..”

you took that as your cue to leave. “not happening!” you called out, making your way down to the car out front. chanel waited until you got in before stepping back inside. the drive wasn’t long, considering rafe only lived about eight minutes away from you. it wasn’t until you were standing in front of rafe’s door that you realized you probably should’ve asked for his number back when you two talked at the country club. oh, god. you two haven’t even had any kind of communication since then.

what if he wasn’t home?

..or worse; what if he completely forgot about the whole thing and you were standing out here like a total idiot?

“this is stupid..” you whispered, looking back to see if your car was still there. before you could overthink, you stepped back once you heard the door unlock, the hardwood opening up to reveal rafe in a collared shirt that made his biceps look like they were going to burst through the fabric. “i thought you stood me up there for a minute.” he moved aside, motioning for you to come in before shutting the door behind you. “i almost did..” rafe snorted at your words, shaking his head before taking the view of you in.

“you look— wow..” you watched as his eyes raked down your figure, his jaw ticking once he saw how revealing your dress was. “you like it?” you turned around, looking back at him through your lashes. swallowing thickly, rafe didn’t say a word as he lead you two over to the living room with his hand resting in the small of your back. “for someone who swore they weren’t trying to sleep with me, the candles aren’t really convincing..” you looked around his set up, the living room being illuminated by the soft flickers of candle flames along with a bottle of wine and two glasses that sat in the middle of the coffee table.

“oh, so you’re saying i have a chance?” rafe sat you down, wasting no time in pouring you both a drink. crossing one leg over the other, you let your dress ride up your thighs before humming. “mmm, no.” rafe sighed, handing you a glass before settling in next to you. “we’ll see about that.” you ignored the way your stomach flipped once rafe draped an arm across your shoulders, your cheeks heating at how close he was. taking a sip from your glass, you glanced at him briefly before relaxing in his hold.

silence fell over you two and you swore rafe could hear your heart beating out of your chest. “am i tripping, or are you nervous right now?” you laughed, the sound making you inwardly cringe. “you wish, ‘cameron.” rafe smiled at your obvious facade. he could see right through you. “it’s kinda hard to tell,” he lied, “i mean— you show up to my place looking like this, i’d assume the last thing you could feel right now is nervous.” his mouth was right next to your ear, the bass of his voice making you squirm in your seat.

“that’s your problem,” you breathed out shakily, “you’re always just assuming things.” rafe tongued his cheek, his gaze flickering down to your lips. “speaking of that..” he trailed off, “i know i already apologized to you last time we talked, but i want you to know that i truly do regret speaking about you in a negative light.” you knew he was being sincere by the way he was looking at you. “it’s fine,” you waved him off, “it wouldn’t be the first time someone called me a bitch. ‘spoiled little brat’ isn’t a new one either, i just wish people understood that even that title comes with a cost.” rafe’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“what do you mean by that?” the last time this same exact topic came up, you shut down and put your defenses back up once you realized the conversation was veering towards your relationship, or lack there of, with your parents. you were so tired of being misunderstood, you decided that you’d just let rafe know about the very things you became accustomed to hiding. “i’m still paying for everything that i have and everything that i continue to buy, just not in the way that you might think..”

“how then?” you closed your eyes for a moment. there was no coming back from this. “my parents just give me everything because they feel guilty— guilty for not being there.. like ever.” you laughed incredulously. “not there?” rafe repeated, “your parents have their own column in kildare’s newspaper, they have to be here.” you shook your head, taking another drink from the wine in your glass. “no, they don’t.. i haven’t seen or heard from them in eight months.” rafe’s eyes widened. “what? well where the hell are they?!” he spoke up.

“it’s ironic. they actually bought another house on the mainland and didn’t tell me shit about it. i found out a while back when i opened the congratulatory letter from their realtor. ‘guess they haven’t had a chance to change their postal address yet.” rafe took a minute to put your words together, his arm leaving your shoulders so he could rub his temples. “so let me get this straight,” he started, “you’ve been all by yourself in that empty house of yours for months now, and in order for your parents to ‘make up’ lost time, they just give you money so that they don’t feel bad for essentially abandoning their daughter?” you winced as soon as you heard it.

you hadn’t come to terms with the ‘a’ word just yet, though it’s been lingering in the back of your mind since you were a little girl. “i don’t know about ‘abandoning’ per say, they still support me..” your voice cracked and you hated it. the sound drew rafe’s attention immediately. “uh, yeah— with money. but what else?” he scoffed. “what else could i possibly need? in their minds; i have it all. which i kind of do, but it all means nothing at the end of the day when i have a dining table that can sit twenty people and i’m the only one sitting at it.” your last sentence hit particularly close to home for rafe, especially since he has spent countless evenings eating dinner by himself at his own oversized table.

he could see the hurt written all over your face. you two weren’t so different after all. “i’m sorry.” rafe’s voice barely came out above a whisper, his hand finding your knee as you shook your head. “don’t be. i’ve stopped the pity party a long time ago,” you cleared your throat, “please say something about you now because i don’t think i could handle being the only one in the hot seat.” rafe’s mind started reeling as he was unsure of what to say.

“uhm, well— since we’re on the topic of fucked up parents..”

for the next hour and a half, rafe gave you the full rundown of him and his dad’s relationship, not leaving out a single detail as you listened to him intently. “as much as i wanted to make my dad proud of me, everything i did was never enough for him. i was a fuck up for a long time but i stepped up when he couldn’t and he never recognized that.” you and rafe had long since forgotten about your wine glasses, and were now taking turns drinking from the actual bottle itself. “if he hated me then, he would hate me even more now.” he sighed, leaning all the way back into the cushions of the sofa.

you blinked once you saw him manspread, the alcohol taking its effect as it ran through your system. “why?” your voice came out higher than usual, the sound being a dead giveaway that you were now officially tipsy. “because.. i don’t have my family together the way he would’ve wanted. rose, my dad’s wife, took my little sister to an undisclosed location and deactivated her phone so it’s impossible for me to have direct communication with her, and sarah ran off without telling me any details, so she could be pretty much anywhere, and yeah, that sums everything up.”

you stared at the side of rafe’s face, his features being highlighted by the soft light flickering in the room. in your current position you could feel rafe’s chest rise and fall with each breath, the warmth of his body against your own making you feel fuzzy inside. rafe had his hand resting comfortably on the side of your thigh, your legs draped across his lap as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “it sounds like we’re just lonely people.” you whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. oddly enough, rafe didn’t expect you to make him feel this comfortable so fast.

while he was sure it was the alcohol that made you lighten up and actually cling to him, he realized quickly that he liked feeling you close. “you know.. i could surround myself with all of my friends, go to parties where the living room is filled to the fucking brim, and yet, right now is the first time i can genuinely say that i don’t feel alone with you right here next to me.” your heart fluttered in your chest at his words. you didn’t realize just how bad you needed to be understood by someone until now.

you don’t know when, but you found yourself leaning into him, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you towards his lips. you couldn’t believe this was happening, sober or not, you’ve known all along that the bickering and fighting was building up just for this very moment.

..and then his phone rang.

you were less than an inch away from each other, both of you freezing right before your lips could meet. “fuck.” he pulled away, making you purse your lips together as he took the device out of his pocket. following his line of vision, you looked down at the contact name. barry. your eyebrows knitted in confusion. who the hell could that be, and why did they have to call right this second? “shit, i gotta take this,” he cursed under his breath, “i’ll be right back. promise.” you smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

it’s fine, you needed to reapply your lipgloss anyways.

out of habit, rafe put his old friend on speaker, the volume loud enough for you to hear the unfamiliar voice from the kitchen. “what.” rafe sounded irritated once he spoke into the receiver.

“country club!” you felt your heart drop at the name, “where the fuck have you been? you’re too ‘rich boy’ to swing by and drink a beer on the cut?” your stomach twisted as you felt your blood run cold.

country club. the cut. your past conversations with your so called ‘mystery’ man ran through your head, everything that you once suspected now coming to fruition. oh, god, how could you have missed all of the signs? the night you two both went on a date.. the same date where you sent him nudes in the bathroom of his own boat. his little ‘cute skirt.’ comment after you texted him saying that you were wearing one in hopes for him to find you somewhere. suddenly you felt like the room was getting smaller, your sanity hanging on by a single thread.

no, you had to be overthinking this. surely, rafe couldn’t be your guy. if he was, that means he has known who you are behind the screen for who knows how long? just as you stood up, rafe came back into the living room. “sorry about that, it was nothing—” you cut him off, “country club?” he froze. it wasn’t until he saw the mortified look on your face that he realized he made the grave mistake of putting barry’s call on speaker. eyeing the front door behind him, rafe lunged for you the second you tried to leave the living room.

“y/n—” he grabbed your shoulders, your eyes watering out of embarrassment. “you can’t be him.” you shook your head as he backed you up into the wall. “i am, though,” he took ahold of your wrists so you could stop thrashing against him, “i am him.” you felt a shiver run down your spine at the confirmation. “and you’re you. you’re mine.” you scoffed, turning your head away from his view. “let go of me.” rafe didn’t budge, your frustration only growing.

“i found out you were my girl after our date on the druthers. the same necklace, the nails.. the things you’ve said to me in person being repeated over the phone. i knew it was you.” you whimpered, still trying to get out of his grip. “i’m not your girl, don’t call me that.” rafe smiled, his broad build towering over you with ease. “you don’t have to be embarrassed about anything. in case you forgot, we both did some things.”

“shut the fuck up.” you finally managed to push him away, your hands flying to pull the hem of your dress down. “why would you go on without telling me anything, don’t you realize how fucking stupid i must feel right now?!” you cried out. “i wanted you to find out once you felt ready to, okay?! what happened right now was a mistake on my part, i’m sorry!”

“there’s no ‘me and you’, i’m not yours, and you aren’t mine. this should’ve never happened.” rafe hated how those words sounded coming out of your mouth. “the switch up is crazy.” he laughed, shaking his head. “just five minutes ago you were ready to kiss me, and right before that we spent nearly two hours discussing our differences and being vulnerable with each other. now what?” you let out a breath. “we would never work. let’s just leave it at that—” rafe was already disagreeing with you before you could finish your sentence.

“i won’t just ‘leave’ it. i can’t.” he stepped closer. “you’re saying we’ll never work, but you won’t even try.” rafe scoffed, “who’s stopping us? is this like an ego thing? say the word and i’ll set you straight right now.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your body reacted to his words. “you really sat there in my face and acted clueless..” you glared at him, “you know things about me that no one else— not even my best friend, knows about,” you whispered, “this is too much for me right now.”

sniffling, you felt relief wash over you once you heard a honk outside. “don’t leave,” rafe pulled you from walking to the front door, “please, we could figure something out.” without another word, you left, rafe’s voice calling out to you with each step you got closer to the car. you were able to compose yourself before you got home, thankful that chanel was knocked out cold so you wouldn’t have to recap the shitty night you just had.

taking your phone out of your purse, you were met with multiple messages from rafe himself.

[11:44 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m not letting you run away from this.

[11:45 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : we see each other everyday y/n, we’re gonna have to talk this out at some point.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : i’m sorry.

[11:47 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : you have every reason to be mad at me, i could understand that.

[11:48 PM] country club from tumblr <3 : look. i have to go on the mainland for some business stuff but i’ll be staying at the ‘paradise’ hotel for the next week. i’ll be there any time after eight, i’ll text you my room details when i get checked in. please just come see me.

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[daisymooonart]

May my Emperor live ten thousand years!

An (un)official painting of the Emperor and Empress of Huaxia. I would absolutely bow for Wu Zetian. Maybe not Qin Zheng, but he is hot and communist so I am tempted.

This took me around 15-20 hours to make and it was so worth it <3

Details under the cut!

First off: the faces.

Because of how obscured it was going to be, I wanted to get a good sense of what Zetian would look like before the makeup and the mask. I tried to give her a kind of average appearance, because I wanted to try and make her look like a normal person under all of that Empress garb (she's only 18... she should have been at the clurbbb). Her face is purposefully a little asymmetrical.

For makeup, I went for the blush-that-makes-you-look-drunk look that was apparently fashionable among Tang ladies. Her lips and yedian are pretty standard. I saved the xiehong on the wrong layer like a clown 😭 but it's still visible under the mask. Not entirely sure if her huadian would be accurate, but it's the one on the painting of Empress Wu that I see most often.

Would Qin Zheng have a stroke if he saw Zetian hang out with men wearing this mask? Absolutely. Am I Qin Zheng? Nope I'm an artist who spent wayyyyy too long drawing Zetian's face and didn't want to cover it up fully. Her haircomb is in the shape of an upside-down butterfly. The sharp bit on the collar is inspired by a shirt I saw in the Hunger Games once, it's a style that's supposed to force you into keeping good posture. I hc that Qin Zheng included it to piss her off, and it's definitely working...

Now for Qin Zheng's face. I tried to go for a simple, smooth-wing look. I never really envisioned him as twink-y when I read the book and tried to go for a hot-and-scary-man look whilst keeping it a little bit androgynous. He'd never ever have his hair down for a formal painting but I want to separate his face from the rest of the piece. His eye is weaker on his scarred side. He looks a little feverish and a little bit infuriated: he is probably wondering why the hell he needs to be painted when photographs now exist.

It's a very busy painting and I fully expect people to gloss over this, so here's a little zoom on Qin Zheng gripping Zetian's armour. He's a freak.

Now for the throne. I tried to do a dragon/phoenix piece but it didn't show very well in the actual painting, so here it is. You can really tell how much I love scribble art lol.

And here's the base of the throne, with two dragons to keep our lovely tyrants company

I opted for a double-seated throne because I accidentally drew them too close together and couldn't move them because of the layers because feminism <3

Now for clothing. I noticed that on the HT cover, Zetian has a white gem whilst Qin Zheng has a black gem, but the clothes underneath are the opposite colours. I made the details on Qin Zheng's armour white and Zetian's details black, but Qin Zheng's armour ends up being darker whilst Zetian's armour is a lot paler. Symbolism... or something... Also they both get a heart because its cute, like a friendship bracelet.

I really can't draw scales though so erm. Yeah.

If you notice any er,,,, imagery in their lower robes it was unintentional I swear

Even though Qin Zheng is very much the taller, dominant figure in the piece, I tried to actually put the focus on Zetian, by making her armour a different shade of gold to the throne and by keeping her closer to the centre. I don't know if it worked but my eyes think so. I think out of the entire piece though, Zetian took me the longest because I hadn't settled on what look I was trying to go for her. I redrew her armour about five times, but thankfully by the time it was done I had pretty much solidified where I was going with Qin Zheng's armour and I finished that in no time.

Again I absolutely loved making this painting, it was SO worth it. It might me my most detailed ever. I adore Heavenly Tyrant so so so much it might actually be my favourite book ever lol.

[yois2aki]

wc. 1.3k

caleb gives me tiktok bf energy.

btw reader has freckles in this... sorry i hate giving reader physical aspects but i think he'd be a sucker for freckles 😔😔😔

“this is a trap.”

caleb eyed you warily as you set up your phone, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. he had been through enough of your little social media games to know when something was dangerous territory, and this? this was a minefield.

“you realize there’s no way for me to win this, right?” he muttered, arms crossed.

you grinned. “oh, come on, it’s just for fun.”

“that’s what you said last time,” he grumbled. “then you pouted for an hour because i ranked going shopping together last.”

“okay, but that was an injustice.”

caleb groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before sighing in defeat. “fine. let’s just get this over with.”

you clapped excitedly, hitting ‘start’ on the ranking filter as the first body part popped up.

1. hands

he barely hesitated. “fifth.”

you gasped. “fifth?!”

he side-eyed you. “do you want me to be honest or not?”

you huffed. “fine. but you better put my legs below that or we’re fighting.”

he smirked. “we’ll see.”

2. legs

he pressed fourth without a second thought.

“caleb.”

“what?” he said, completely unfazed.

you glared at him. “so my hands are below my legs?”

he shrugged. “it’s the truth.”

you groaned dramatically, flopping against the couch. “i don't want to play this with you anymore.”

he chuckled. “too late now.”

3. eyes

his expression softened slightly.

“first,” he said immediately.

your lips parted slightly, caught off guard by how fast he answered. “…really?”

he turned his head slightly, glancing at you, and for a second, his violet eyes held something softer, something quieter.

“yeah,” he murmured. “really.”

your heart did a little flip, but before you could dwell on it, the next body part popped up.

4. lips

caleb exhaled, staring at the screen like it had personally betrayed him.

you smirked. “what, struggling?”

“not struggling,” he muttered, pressing second after a long pause.

you raised an eyebrow. “so my lips are second to my eyes?”

he shot you a look. “you know how i feel about your lips. but i look into your eyes every day. that has to count for something.”

your cheeks warmed slightly, but before you could let it get to your head, the next one appeared.

5. collarbone

without hesitation, he pressed ninth.

you gasped.

“ninth?!”

“what?” he said, completely unbothered.

“my collarbone is at the bottom?!”

“there are ten slots,” he reminded you. “it could be worse.”

“oh, you're so sleeping on the—”

before you could finish, the next one appeared.

6. voice

his eyebrows twitched.

he pressed third.

you blinked. “…my voice?”

he shrugged. “it’s nice. i like hearing you talk.”

your heart did another weird little flip. you quickly masked it with a smirk. “so what you’re saying is, my voice is sexier than my hands?”

he groaned. “i regret this already.”

7. stomach

he looked at the screen for a second before pressing sixth.

you narrowed your eyes. “explain.”

he took a sip from his drink. “it's nice to nap on.”

you flushed slightly. “caleb.”

he smirked but didn’t say anything else.

8. back

he hummed in thought before pressing eighth.

you relaxed slightly. “okay, that’s fair.”

he arched a brow. “oh, so you accept this ranking, but not the collarbone?”

“obviously.”

he shook his head. “ridiculous.”

9. neck

he pressed seventh.

you side-eyed him. “you’re thinking of something, aren’t you?”

“not at all.”

“liar.”

he just smirked.

10. freckles

he pressed first.

your breath hitched.

“…wait.” you furrowed your brows. “but you already put my eyes first.”

he exhaled, shaking his head. “no. i take it back. freckles should be first.”

he tried to tap the screen to change it, but the filter locked in the ranking.

caleb stared at the screen. then at you. then back at the screen.

“…you planned this.”

you burst out laughing. “i didn’t! but i knew you’d try to change it!”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “this is exactly why i said this was a trap.”

you grinned. “so, my freckles win?”

caleb sighed, rubbing his temples.

“…yeah,” he muttered. “they win.”

you leaned in, smirking. “told you this would be fun.”

“for you, maybe,” he grumbled, but the way he was watching you—like the freckles scattered across your cheeks had just ruined him completely—told a different story.

[nanaslutt]

PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏

“pt.1” here

Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3

perv!geto is my obsession atm

contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.

So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.

“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.

“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.

“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.

“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”

The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.

Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.

Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.

You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.

Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.

What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.

Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.

Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.

You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.

Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.

Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.

——

“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.

Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.

“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.

Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.

Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.

Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.

“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.

“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.

“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.

“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.

Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,

“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.

He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.

“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.

——

When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.

His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.

You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.

The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.

"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.

You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.

"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.

"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.

The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."

----

"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.

"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.

"A-again-" you whined,

"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.

"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.

He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.

"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.

Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.

"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.

Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.

Geto was getting off on this so hard.

Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.

"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.

He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.

"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.

You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.

Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.

"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.

His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.

"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.

"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,

"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.

You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.

"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.

Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.

Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.

Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.

You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.

You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.

Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.

[oflgtfol]

call me John the way i be Carpenting 💪💪

[babyy-blossom]

Jason Todd with s/o who loves to bake

Masterlist

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach

Jason swears you took that saying and ran with it.

He’s afraid of gaining 50 pounds just by looking at all the delicious desserts you make.

“Some are from (insert what you call your grandma) and some are from Pinterest.” You’d say with a proud smile when he asked where you get your recipes from.

He absolutely devours everything you make him. If the others are lucky he MIGHT MIGHT share.

Alfred absolutely loves your baking skills. “One can always tell when something is made with love and pride.”

Bruce hides away in the Bat Cave as he eats the apple crisp pie you made. He couldn’t help himself.

Jason is a fiend for berries. No one can convince me otherwise.

He might enjoy the classic apple pie or chocolate cake here and there,

but make him a blackberry cobbler and he’s forever yours. Bake him up a special cherry pie, OOooOoo, he eats it like a starved man.

Now when you start to cook, that’s a game changer. Soups, pastas, oven specials, steaks (“I’m a growing boy” he’d claim)

Will cry like a boy coming home from after school sports if he comes home and sees that crockpot is out.

Absolutely loves cookies. However he likes his basic. Chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, sugar cookie.

Jason Todd would attend a one day cookie decorating class. He wouldn’t be great at it. But he would try for you.

For your birthday the first year you started dating he gifted you different shaped cookie cutters.

For the next birthday or Christmas he may or may not have dug into Bruce’s pockets to buy you a kitchenaid.

Bruce didn’t mind much though when he found out. He gets to also reap the rewards of you having a kitchen helper.

Jason one time bet that you couldn’t use a measuring cup as a weapon after you threaten him with one if he wouldn’t get out of the kitchen. He was proved wrong when you used the handle as a makeshift shank.

You love Jason but there is such a thing as too many cooks in the kitchen.

If there is ever an ingredient that you do not have, Dick is willing to go to the store for you. However you have to promise to share what you are making.

“Jay? How do I make 3/4? And how many of those tablespoons do I need to make 1 3/4 cup?”

His honest reaction:

“Do I look like a math teacher? Ask google.”

He’s no help I feel when it comes to anything math related. Especially factions. He knows how to take a car apart and put it back together. Don’t ask him to do anything else.

Don’t ask Dick either. Unless you want to make a disaster. And Tim would probably give the wrong answer on purpose.

Jason loves to watch you decorate your cakes. Sometimes you make birthday cakes for your friends and your steady hands piping the icing is so impressive to him, he could watch you for hours.

He loves watching you get excited about your hobby.

Jason really is a great supporter of your work and hobby. Sometimes he refuses to eat a cookie or cake because “it’s too pretty and you made that with your own hands.”

“MORE FOR ME!”- Dick