#ramsey murdoch imagines

[epithet-beloved]

Could we get some parental Percy and Ramsey? If not that’s fine

PARENTAL PERCY + RAMSEY HEADCANONS

synopsis… Percy and Ramsey as your parents

ft. Percival “Percy” King, Ramsey Murdoch, Howie Honeyglow (mentioned), Meryl Lockhart (mentioned), Sergeant Eros (mentioned)

tags… parental imagine, Percy and Ramsey’s relationship is unspecified, goofy family shenanigans, some anime campaign references but no spoilers, relationship study

word count… 702

a/n… I FINALLY GOT MY WRITING SPOONS BACK BAYBEYYYYYY. Apologies for the long hiatus, but I hope you all enjoy these imagines! ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Even if Ramsey is your actual father, he still gets treated at least a little bit like a weird uncle that the rest of the family doesn’t want you associating with.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite some general banter, Percy trusts Ramsey with your care quite a lot after he helped her in Redwood Run, and is always fair and never presumptuous. She has quite a few ground rules, some of them a bit odd, but never unfair.

“Uhhh….Percy?” Ramsey’s confusion was met by the policewoman’s polite smile.

“Yes? Is there something you’d like to ask me about the rules?”

A nod. “Just one thing.” Despite the fact that she couldn’t see what he was pointing to, the Australian pointed to one of the lines with his index finger. “I think ‘no crayons of debauchery’ is a bit unnecessary.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Your time between the two is divvied up almost perfectly evenly, as expected of Percy’s scheduling. Sometimes, Ramsey can even go somewhere with you as long as an officer (typically Percy) accompanies you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 On occasion, you’ll also get ‘babysat’ by Meryl or Sergeant Eros when both your parents are unavailable. Meryl can be a bit…jumpy, but typically well meaning. And Eros will let you ride shotgun if he takes you to work with him (given that the work is appropriate and something you can tag along for).

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Ramsey makes drawings of your OCs and Percy hangs them on her fridge. It’s kind of comical to see your fursona or the like hung up in her otherwise rather plain kitchen, but it’s also a sweet reminder of how she’s invested in your interests.

“I must admit, I am curious.” You perked your head up at the sound of your mother’s voice, watching as she admired one of the papers hung up with a magnet on her fridge. When she was done examining the drawing like it was some sort of specimen, she’d stand up to her full height and look your way. “Why am I drawn as a beaver in this picture?”

“Oh,” you explained between bites of food, “I always thought if you were an animal, that’s what you’d be, because you make all kinds of buildings when you’re working.”

This answer seemed to leave her pleased, almost glowing in response to your perception of her. With a hand over her heart, she spoke in a calm voice. “Ah, the beaver. Truly an industrious creature. Nature’s architect, presiding over the flowing waters, arbiting their path….”

….Well, that probably meant she was happy about the fursona you came up for her.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I wouldn’t call Percy overprotective per se, but she is very cautious. Like if you want to ride a bike, she’ll make sure you have a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pads….overall, just makes sure to take all possible safety measures in a situation. She’ll never stop you from doing something you want to do within reason, she’ll just make sure she’s there to keep an eye on you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’ve also likely met Howie once or twice because he’s a good friend (slash business rival) of Percy’s. He gave you a honeyed snack once. It tasted good, but the texture is…..questionable.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite Percy being classic lawful good, Ramsey can actually be the more reasonable one, aka having more common sense in a situation. Sometimes, parent-child bonding is just being surrounded by wackiness while both expressing complete and utter exasperation.

“Hey dad, do you know what is happening right now at all?” You loved your mother to death, but her idea of a ‘fun activity’ could often be rather strange. Like now, where she was currently trying to enforce road safety laws to the Mario Kart CPUs. While losing.

All the man could do was shake his head and crack a grin. “Eh, just roll with it, kiddo. You get used to it after a while.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They both give headpats, but Percy’s are a sort of stiff “pat pat” while Ramsey’s is more of a noogie that messes up your hair. You don’t have the heart to say either one is better than the other, though.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They’re both wonderful, really. Both a little weird, but that’s part of what makes your family so great.

[loonarmuunar]

HES THE GIANT RAT THAT MAKES ALL OF THE RULES‼️

Ramsey is Big Rat. He makes deals, he swindles people, just like canon. Except his deals tend to end more deadly on the other’s end.

Y’know how in greece they would cover the eyes of the dead with coins for Charon’s ferry. Yea

[sadsoftserve]

-Promises- An EE minific

(this is angsty. Really angsty. It's Bonnies backstory breaked down into a simple ~1,800 word one shot. This contains REALLY SENSITIVE CONTENT. The mentions of Domestic abuse, SA, and attempted murder. PLEASE IF ANY OF THIS TRIGGERS YOU AND OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. DO. NOT. READ. This is oc centric. Focuses on Bonnie, with mentions of her mom (Reseda) and her uncle, Ramsey..Not canon to EE. This is Fanwork)

Most of my early childhood was spent blocking out the screams of my parents, and hiding in the moist attic playing with whatever old anquite I could find. No matter what happened within the day, my drunk ‘dad’ would always find a way to beat me or my mother. I stayed as far as I could from them, out of fear it would happen to me. My mother was an amazing woman, Reseda Murdoch was her name, she worked tirelessly at a local library to support me and the drunk she was with. When she worked she often took me with her, she didn't want to leave me alone with the man who frequently beat us.

“Bonnie, baby, come on…” My mother gently cooed. “You know what happens when we’re late.” She loudly whispered as I sped up to match where she was walking. I didn't talk much as a kid, I had no need too. If I did speak it was because I absolutely had too. I shared a lot of physical attributes with my mom, the olive green eyes, and the red hair were the most prevalent. As we walked down the streets of the hood part of Sweet Jazz, my mother held my hand and prayed. Like she always did. She wasn't religious, just hopeful. Hopeful that one day the bastard would drop dead from alcohol poisoning or a drive-by. Me and my mother walked fast, the sooner we arrived the lesser the beating would be.

The closer we got to the house the more anxious my mother got. If we were lucky the bastard would already be asleep and we would go the day unscathed. 

Other days, we weren't so lucky. Like today, as soon as we walked through the door his abhorrent screaming was heard. From where I was standing I could smell the alcohol on his breath. The slurring I was used to, the smell got worse every time I inhaled it. “Wher’ the hell have you beeen!” He grabbed my mother's collar and she let out a yelp. “Keep yer’ mouth shut, whore!” He broke the bud light bottle over her shoulder as she dropped to the ground, holding back tears. She couldn't cry in front of him, if she did it would get worse. He spat in front of her and threw the bottle down next to her. “Get me another ‘ne."

My mother nodded as she quickly stood up and ran to the kitchen to grab the beer he had yelled for. He glared at me. He didn't like me. Not one bit. I was his plaything. Something he could manipulate and play with at his leisure. I didn't know it was a crime. Looking back on it, the nights he would beat my mom so bad to the point of unconsciousness, were the nights he used me. I was five. I was barely a child, and yet he found it amusing to make me do things for him and his friends. Things I didn't know were bad or taboo. He touched me In places I didn't know were private to me. He did the same to my mother, but worse. I could hear her screams, and his beatings as he brutally assaulted my mother. My mother often found herself confiding in my uncle. She called him on our old landline we kept in the attic.

“Ramsey… I can't do this anymore…” She sobbed out into the landline, I was never able to hear my uncle's voice on the other line. But I'd always imagine he sounded like a superhero. Like one from the cartoons. Looking back on it I should've known that's not what he sounded like, but the way my mother talked about him made him seem like a hero. “No… don't do that… he’ll- he’ll beat me worse…” Another unnervingly lengthy pause. She nodded and started to jot down a long string of numbers on an old bill. “O-okay… I'll try. Thank you…” She hung up. She looked at me. I was her pride and joy, she loved me more than she loved herself. Was as fiddling with an old doll I kept up there. “Bonnie… baby, come here.”

I obeyed her actions and went to her sitting in her lap, as she stroked my hair. “Love, your hair is getting so long… it almost looks like mine…” she sighed. “Bonnie, you can talk around me… you don't have to be quiet all the time…” I shrugged. I didn't like speaking. Everytime I did I would be told to shut up by the man who dared to call himself my ‘father’. She sighed once more. “We’ll be out of here soon. I promise. Its gonna be me and you against the world.” She smiled softly.

I leaned my head against her chest and closed my eyes. Listening to her heartbeat. It had an irregular pattern, but it was still soothing. I found myself falling asleep on her as she hummed a simple tune. 

A lot of my nights were spent like this. Cradled up in my mother's arms, years went by, repeating the same cycle of abuse. My mother, beaten and sexually assaulted, I, beaten and sexually assaulted. I was about 9 when ‘The incident' happened. That's what me and my uncle call it. It was December 27th, a cold, windy night for Sweet Jazz. Instead of spending my nights on the attic, I spent it outside. I would play with rocks, sticks, or any snake I could find. The usual screaming match was happening inside, bottles being thrown, punches landing, I was used to it. This particular night I was playing with a small wooden snake I had gotten for Christmas, it was small and bendy. I found myself growing fond of it. I was in my own little world, when the sounds of a gunshot were heard, and the blood curdling scream of my mother followed. The neighbors lights turned on as they heard the screams of my mother. 

The gates between our houses were simple wired fences. Missus Poppy lived next door, she was an older woman, about in her mid sixties. She ran outside upon hearing my mom's scream. Her bonnet and fluffy robe swayed in the late night chill. “Bonnie..? What's going on?” She asked me, I simply shrugged my shoulders.

“I don't know…” I said meekly. Missus Poppy ran around her house to the front door, which she banged on.

“Ray! Reseda! What on god's green earth is going on!” Her voice was loud, it awoke some of the other people on the block. We lived in the hood, hearing a gunshot wasn't rare, but it wasn't common either. We were a tight knit community, everyone looking out for one another, but my mom hid our abuse so well, no one suspected we were being abused. “I swear Ray, I have the police on speed dial!” My father answered the door, gun in his hand. He swung it open, letting the scene of what just happened be seen by everyone on our porch. Missus Poppys face fell immediately, and her dark skin turned a shade lighter. She put her hands over her mouth as she put her arm in front of me.

I saw it all. It was graphic. He shot my mother. Right in the stomach. She was barely clinging onto life. I pushed past missus Poppy, and my ‘father’. I didn't care if he shot me, do it, I couldn't care anymore. I ran to her side, stepping in the grotesque amount of blood spilling out of her. The authorities and my uncle were already being called. “Momma…?” I said, tears spilling from my eyes.

“...Bon-nie… baby…” She lifted a weak hand to put on my face. She gently caressed it. “Baby… I don't think mommas gonna make it…” she winced in pain as she held her stomach with her free hand. I could see the life slowly draining from her, and I didn't want that to happen.

“But… what about our promise…? You promised you'd always be here for me… you said everything would get better…”  I cried. My knees were soaking up the blood that was on the floor. My once purple leggings were now stained red, with my own mother's blood.

“B-baby… I'm sorry…” She said, her own tears spilling from her eyes. “I… want you to know…” The sounds of ambulances and police sirens were heard outside, along with the angry shouts of my uncle. “I want… you to know… that whatever happens… I'll still be here with you… and that… I'll love you no matter what… okay..?” 

I nodded. “Okay… promise?” I asked.

“Promise…” She gave me a pinky promise. The paramedics quickly came and scooped her away. Nine year old me was left on the kitchen floor, kneeing in a puddle of my mother's own blood. I was in shock… then I broke down. I let out blood curdling wails of pain and grief. I was nine.

No nine year old should go through that.

The police had to hold back my uncle from completely beating my ‘father’ to death. At this point in time, I believe he was out on parole. The police were trying to make sure he didn't break it. He was shouting curses, profanity of all kinds.

“COUNT YOUR FUCKIN’ DAYS RAY! JUST WAIT TILL I GET BACK INTO PRISON! COUNT YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN’ DAYS!” I had never seen my uncle so angry. He was usually a calm guy. His body was entirely gold, he was ready and wanted to fight. I went outside, still crying, upon seeing me, he immediately stopped his angry rant and shoved the officers off of him. He ran up to me and gave me something I desperately needed. A hug. I cried into his shoulder. Staining his bright red Hawaiian shirt with tears.

“Bonnie… kid.” He said softly. He stroked my hair, just like momma did. “It'll be alright. Just… let it out…” I could tell he was fighting back tears too. His nose was scrunched up as his eyes closed tightly. He held me close.

Somehow, I had a stroke of luck. My ‘father’ was charged with attempted murder, two counts of domestic violence, child abuse, rape of a minor, and rape. He got life in prison. But, my luck ran out quick. My mother was out in a coma, to save her. She hasn't awoken yet. I was put in the foster system until I was twelve. Bounced homes frequently, I became a delinquent, fights, juvie, you name it. Foster homes didn't want me, I was trouble. The city had no choice but to stick me with my uncle. Ramsey Murdoch had a criminal record, but it was all petty. Embezzlement, forgery stuff like that.

He's a great caregiver. He supports me, gives me a good life I didn't have when I was younger. Hell I think he's even talking to Micah's mom. Maybe rat man will get hitched? I'm glad I still have someone out there to take care of me. Sure, he sucks at it sometimes. But I love my Uncle, he's still that hero a dreamed of when I was little.

Maybe one day we'll be all together again.

Only time will tell.

[officialramseymurdoch]

yeah i read prison of plastic - *hyperfixates on a character who didnt even show up in this book*

[epitheterasedgen]

tbh, in the EAM, even as a teenager Molly is probably one of the better-behaved kids out there

but her definite Teenage Thing (TM) that she does on a daily basis is sleeping in for HOURS. like, even if she didn’t stay up the night before. she just sleeps in for SO long every day because she feels like she’s making up for all the sleep she missed as a kid

[spliinkles]

cowboy ramsey is amazing! what about zora in a flannel vacation shirt? (like her scarf thing is flannel in the show, but its her shirt now)

YALL KNOW ID NEVER FORGET A QUEEN!!!

Ft. Ratboy Ramsey

[zelebirbo]

zora, @ 3 in the morning, staked out in the cheap ass motel room right across from ramsey’s: 

insp

[incorrect-epithet-erased]

Percy: I don’t need to go to bed. I’m not tired and I still have work to do.

Ramsey: But, Perse, I’ll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Percy: ...Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping habits?

Ramsey: Is it working?

[epithet-headcanoned]

can i get uhhhh,, giovanni headcanons with a fem!reader? sorry if it's too much to ask i'm very tired

It’s alright I understand

Giovanni x Fem!Reader

*spice girls voice* if you wanna get with Giovanni! You gotta get with mo-lly~ If you’re nice to his sister he’ll just fall for you even harder

You guys would probably try your best to rent out an apartment together so you won’t have to live with his mom, although you both still squeeze in the race car bed

His favorite dates with you are at home movie dates where you two watch either crime or horror movies (mostly so he can trick you into cuddling him, which sometimes goes according to plan until he gets scared and hugs you first)

Outside of that, he also likes taking you on break-in dates! He’ll pick you up and when you ask “Hey, where are we going?” he’ll just say “it’s a surprise :3” and won’t tell you until you get there. You’ll usually end up going to a closed arcade and you’ll be a bit disappointed at first since “oh no, we came too late...” but he’ll surprise you by just simply opening the car door for you and escorting you to the back door and breaking the glass. He’ll lead you to the go-cart area (huge arcades usually have them) and Hotwire a fiery red one so that he can take you on several races. If you really don’t like it he’ll take you to the video game section, but if you don’t mind then he always has fun racing with you

On carnaval dates, he WILL win you the biggest stuffed animals. He will. He doesn’t care if people laugh at him because he couldn’t knock those bottles down after 23 tries he will get you a pikachu

He really likes coming home to you after a mission with his boys, laying down on the bed with you and just putting his head in your lap. Playing with his hair in this moment is much appreciated

He loves laying on you and cuddling you while you’re on your phone as well. He justs swings his arm around wherever you feel most comfortable and lays his head on your chest. Sometimes he falls asleep, sometimes he does not

He’ll probably “fall asleep” in the passenger seat so you can carry him inside tbh

[epithet-beloved]

hihi i was wondering if u could do something for parental epithet ramsey ?? (specifically a black poc kid if u could)

FAMILY PORTRAIT

synopsis… Ramsey draws a portrait of you and wins an argument on the internet.

ft. Ramsey Murdoch

tags… epithet erased, fluff, familial pairing, banter, reader is black, reader and Ramsey live together, reader is implied to also be an artist

word count… 907

a/n… I myself am not black, so if anything in here is inaccurate or could use improvement, you can let us know! I know how much it sucks to not feel represented in fics, so I wanna make everyone feel as welcome as possible on this blog ✧ 🦄

Ramsey could hear your sigh from across the room.

“What is it, kiddo?” From the slight reflection in his drawing tablet, his one eye could spot where you laid on his bed, scrolling on your phone while facing away with him.

“Nothing important.” You wanted to scroll away from the irritating reply, but something kept you staring at it with a foul expression. “Whenever I post about how it isn’t hard to just draw more black characters, there’s always someone in the replies going ‘oh, but it is hard though’!” You did a high, nasally voice of what you imagined some stranger on the internet with a bad opinion to sound like.

At first, Ramsey didn’t say anything at all. Did he even hear you? But eventually, you heard the sound of his chair turning around, causing you to look over your shoulder. Your absolute gerbil of a father sat there with the cockiest grin on his face, leaving you totally clueless as to what would come out of his mouth next.

“Stay still, I’ll prove ‘em wrong.”

Blink. “Whaddya mean?”

By the time those words had escaped your mouth, your dad had already turned back around and opened a blank canvas on his screen. “I’ll do like, a quick sketch. A five minute one or something. Then I’ll post it, because it’s not that hard and anyone who says it is is wrong and they deserve to know how wrong they are.”

Not the words you were expecting to hear. At the same time, though….you weren’t opposed to it.

“You’re saying you want to help me win an argument against someone I don’t know on the internet?”

His golden eye almost seemed to gleam with mischief at the notion. “Ain’t I such a cool dad?”

……Well, it’s not like you could say no to that. So instead, you sighed and tossed your phone onto a pillow, propping yourself up on your elbow and smiling at the man you called your father. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Once you’d given him express approval, the scammer slash furry artist resumed his position of being hunched over his tablet all too eagerly. Despite his almost childish glee, the movements of his hand were still precise, almost effortlessly so. It was never something you really mentioned to him or anything, since he’d probably get all smug about it, but it was a skill you hoped you’d be able to hone one day, too.

It was a comfortable silence, at least, between Ramsey’s reminders of “no peeking!” as he covered the canvas with his other hand. Even if the anticipation was gnawing at you a little, you felt….relaxed. Fading evening light spilled through the gaps in the blinds, and you could faintly hear the sound of a fan running in the background. It was a quiet evening with no responsibilities, nothing to do. Just you and your weird dad.

Speaking of said weird guy….

“You done?”

“Yeah, almost.” His pen strokes were getting smaller than before, probably adding the minute details after blocking out the basic shapes at the beginning. “Just need to clean this up a bit aaaand….” With surprising dexterity, he flipped his pen in his hand to do some quick erasing. “Yeah! Looks good.”

With a quick mutter of “lemme see”, you scuttled over to your father’s desk to peek at the final product, so to speak. Now that you were standing right next to him, the Australian seemed almost sheepish.

Scratching the back of his neck with one hand, he would say, “I maaaybe stylized it a bit, so it isn’t a one to one, but I thought it would be cute!”

…..It was. It was cute.

As your eyes scanned over the rough sketch, you noticed all the little details that you hardly thought about when you looked at yourself, but Ramsey seemed to have recorded with surprising accuracy. Your facial features, body proportions, hairstyle, and overall form were all mostly blocked out with simple shapes, but even then, there was something about the way Ramsey used them that gave it so much personality. Your personality.

“This is how you see me?”

“Yeah.” His response was so quick that you doubt he even questioned it. It just came naturally to him. “It’s easy to draw you, mostly ‘cause I see you every day, but also ‘cause I love you. I mean, It’s beyond easy to draw what you love, you know?”

….That was beyond corny, even for him. That’s what you wanted to say out of your own embarrassment, but he was just so….casual about it that you didn’t wanna ruin the moment.

In your trance of trying to think of what to say next, you noticed something.

“I was smiling?”

Ramsey cocked a brow. Did he think you’d already known that? “Yeah. Why?” After a pause, his ratty features took on a more playful expression, and he scooched over to give you a light bump with your elbow. “Whaaat, is it so surprising that you’d be havin’ fun with your old man?”

Laughter rose up from your chest like bubbles, making it hard to speak while you retaliated with a little shove of your own. “Shut up, I’d just spaced out! Quit being a drama queen!”

“What’s wrong with men being queens, eh? Aren’t I allowed to express myself?”

Internet argument aside, you definitely feel like you won today.

[ruebarbpie]

Possibly very unlikely but I want a moment where Ramsey tells a good joke that leaves Percy actually laughing, like uncontrollably and crying laughing.

[tintedpoint]

tag dump.

[miuki-akanero]

how about Ramsey with a child! reader? one that loves to draw as well?

Thanks for you request, darling!

Ramsey & artistic child!Reader

✪ He had "met" you in one of his run-aways from Zora. You were just sitting quietly, drawing in your sketchbook.

✪ He couldn't help, but notice that you showed up in the same place at a certain hour. He was curious and kinda worried since it's really strange to see a young child alone in the street. So he approached you. At first, you gave him a silent treatment because you were not allowed to talk with strangers. And this man was absolutely suspicious. Once he noticed your doodles, he was quite impressed, so he decided to tell you that.

Since that your conversation became less intence

✪ Apparently, your parents worked in the office nearby and you didn't like that noisy place, so you always preferred to stay in the park while they were working. In the park. With this freezing wind.

What can I say, once he noticed how much you were not prepared for this kind of weather he might have become a little bit angry

So the next day your parents found a box with warm clothes. They had no idea what was going on, you were kinda embarrassed, but also happy, since it was his way of showing affection.

"...Thanks, but please don't do that again"

" Can make promises, smoll doodler"

".../exhausted sigh/..."

✪ After a month of your encounters, your parents finally noticed Ramsey. A 65 years old man. Talking with their small kid. Alone. In the street, where they can't help.

Hurray, I guess.

So they did their best to take your away from this stranger and scolded you afterwards.

And your never saw him again...

✪ ...Until month later your parents got a letter, where's was clearly announced that now you have another guardian besides them. You should have felt bad for your shocked parents when they saw Ramsey at their doors with whole bunch of documents, but you were just too happy to see your friend again.

✪ Expect him go all speed with his affection for you. Since he never actually worked with children he might go little overboard. At best, he is trying to be the "uncle" type. You don't mind it in the slightest.

Okay, sometimes it gets awkward. But you trying your best to talk with him if he goes too far.

✪ Surely you aren't master of art, but he adores your ideas and the way you colour everything.

✪ When he has an opportunity, he shows you how to draw certain objects and poses.

Rumsey can't help but take some of your "creations" to his workplace. Somehow it makes him exremely proud and happy.

✪ "Is this an octopus?"

     "...it's a sweater..."

     "Oh! Aghm... buddy, how about we make it more than just a sweater? Like an octopus-sweater!"

"...okay..."

✪ He's honesty trying his best

✪ If someone's gonna bully you or make fun of your, he will go all "cool-uncle-who-is-really-mad-and-ready-to-kick-some-butts". Mostly, he will have a "talk" with principal of your school.

But before that he will make sure you are feeling better and don't believe any of their words

[epithet-opening-a]

Hewwo UwU, it is I again, I know, but Ramsey? What about another imagine about... Him and his tiny s/o? What would he do? :0

rat and his even smaller rat

when ramsey first met you, he had a good laugh about how short you are

(he still brings up how short you are, but it’s less teasing and more just asking if you notice how short you are)

he was pretty sure that he only liked you as a friend

but then after a while, he realized that he’d probably die for you

you two haven’t really publicly announced that you’re ‘together’, but who’d want to know anyway

sometimes you sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night

the day when he found, he was scared

kitchen gremlin mode: activate

anyways, he refuses to go downstairs in the middle of the night now

sorry if it’s not a lot, i just woke up from a nap

[rabbiteartrans]

Dying my hair

Also my fucked eye with my hair all slicked back like this?

Big Ramsey Murdoch vibes

[epitheterasedgen]

Idea: Howie commissions Ramsey regularly for drawings/little gold sculptures of bees. Ramsey thinks it’s hilarious and would tell everyone if he weren’t so concerned about the fact that Howie could snap him like a twig

This is weirdly specific and adorable