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#you need SLEEP!!!!!
rubydubydoo122 · 5 months
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I saw someone say a while ago that Jason attacking Tim at Titans Tower was just Tim hallucinating bc he was feeling guilty about being Robin even though Jason's not dead. Which is great, amazing, I think the whole Titans Tower thing is Bonkers, but I think it would be so much funnier if Jason tried to Gaslight Tim into believing the Titans Tower incident never happened, not because he's like evil, he's just super embarassed about it. like Or Tim did actually hallucinate Jason at TT but thinks it was real, so when he tells Jason about it, Jason's so fucking confused, and Tim thinks Jason's Gaslighting him
Tim: Remember that time when you broke into Titans Tower and beat me half to death while wearing a Robin costume from party city
Jason: What? Tim, I know i'm crazy, but I'm not...Insane.
Tim, pulling down his collar: I literally have the scar to prove it
Jason: Bruce told me that was from Clayface pretending to be me, which, might I just say rude. Tim... are you ok? Did you hallucinate me attacking you? like, I know I've done that before, but...
Tim, frowning: I don't think I hallucinating. I was benched for a while after because I had to recover-
Jason: well, you were benched around the time I was dropping hints that I knew who Bruce was outside of Batman, he probably just benched you to keep you safe. You probably were working too many cases with too little sleep and your imagination started to run wild.
Tim: Are you gaslighting me?
Jason: Are you gaslighting me?
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mobius-m-mobius · 7 months
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#my man was NOT subtle 🤣😉
+ bonus: message received 😅
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canisonicscrewyou · 1 year
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krysmcscience · 2 days
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Call this the Whoopsie AU (it's barely an AU)
I mean. Narinder never explicitly SAID the Lamb would stay dead... :3c He probably should have been more specific. >:3c
Part Two:
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Well. The Lamb tried, but...sorry, Nari, the crown hates you now. Shouldn't have been so quick to lend it out, I guess. :D
Aaaand Part Three:
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'Isn't he just adorable?' -The Lamb, probably, while their followers smile and nod and internally scream at the brand new hellcat they now have to share living space with...
Anyway, nothing says 'Dead To Me' like following a person around to loudly remind them of how dead they are to you. Right? Right. Narinder's got this all figured out. <:]
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mooncakebun · 2 months
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Finished an old Hualian doodle for the occasion that it's my 3-year anniversary of getting into TGCF 🤗
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wispscribbles · 7 months
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They’re not morning people 😴
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ninemelodies · 5 months
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14, laying on a blanket pallet on the floor of shaun & donna’s room at 3am: donna do you think pigeons are plotting to take over the earth
donna: doctor please go to sleep. but also probably. i’ve never trusted pigeons.
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florencemtrash · 10 days
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He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.
Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.
Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.
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It was starting to become a problem now. 
You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor. 
10:55am and Azriel was still asleep. 
The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it. 
Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object. 
The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke. 
“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence. 
One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down. 
The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes. 
You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful. 
You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home. 
You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you. 
“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter. 
The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.
“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out. 
“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.” 
“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—” 
Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. 
“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—” 
You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant. 
She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow. 
“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.” 
“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud. 
“Long day?” 
You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.” 
“Did I stutter?”
You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.
“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.” 
“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.” 
Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop. 
He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?” 
You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers. 
You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”
His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.
“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”
“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.” 
Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.
“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.
“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.” 
Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands. 
“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.” 
“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.
You paused. “Yes?”
“He feels safe with you.” 
You blinked once. Twice. 
“Pardon?” 
Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.” 
You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.” 
Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.” 
Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.
And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon. 
Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked. 
He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine. 
“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.
“It’s past three, brother.” 
Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey. 
“What?” 
Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.” 
“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him. 
Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses. 
“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"
You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early. 
You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs. 
Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.
He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart. 
You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz. 
“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more. 
“Hmmm?” 
“Do you feel safe with me?” 
He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside. 
“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”
“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.” 
You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.
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spielzeugkaiser · 1 month
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I come back for a hot second (and go into hiding pretty much right again) with some redrawn screencaps of what I'm watching currently!! 👀 All I have in me are the sillies-
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spilledkaleidoscope · 10 months
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Compromised
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milkywayhou · 25 days
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Lick
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I always imagine König as someone who wouldn't hesitate to licks your face like a dog hahah
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turtleblogatlast · 4 months
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AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.
When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.
He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.
Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.
(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt headcanons#donnie keeps the comms going on in the background as he works#when he gets to the end he’s like what the hell…where’s the rest#donnie: leo where’s part nine#leo barely cognizant after not needing sleep for months: whuh-#donnie: you can’t leave it at a cliffhanger. leo. leo where’s the next part.#listen leo has a great memory for his special interests this is CANON plus he’s a great talker so he would totally be able to do this frfr#whenever he needs to be quiet he’s SILENT but otherwise he’s regaling the exploits of his idols to the captive audience that is The Photo#sometimes Krang sneaks up on him and just listens to him talk like ????#it starts both as leo trying to comfort himself with his favorite things PLUS comfort himself with thoughts of his father#as splinter makes his own crossover fanfiction when sick lol plus he’s Literally Lou Jitsu#and yes krang ALSO gets a bit invested#leo notices the reduction of Ouch but hey more time for rambling fanfic for him 👍#idk leo’s a damn good actor/liar/planner/schemer and I genuinely think that can pivot into storytelling so well#the literal second mikey’s hands heal donnie zooms to his side with hand stabilizers and a request to draw ‘scene 82 from recording 3’#mikey’s like what#so obvs now HE needs to listen as he works#he too gets invested#he comes across raph who mentions having trouble sleeping#mikey: have I got the podcast fanfic for you!#it only somewhat helps raph sleep#somewhat bc sometimes he forces himself to stay awake to hear the rest#yes these recordings go to the whole fam and leo is none the wiser#they don’t even mean to hide it it just never comes up lol#it’s only when donnie FINALLY makes it to the end of the recordings that he confronts leo to continue the story#leo: oH YOU HEARD ALL THAT HUH-
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violent138 · 2 months
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Dick, back from an undercover mission: "All right, fill me in. Tell me everything I missed."
Steph: "Won't take long. Only three things happened. Jason chipped his tooth and had a lisp for a week."
Jason: "Lithen up, theeven. I'm Thorry, did I thay thumthing amuthing to you? Anther me, you thun of a birth!"
Duke: "Number two, Stephanie and Damian wore the same outfit to work one day."
Steph: "How does it look better on you?"
Jason: "And Bruce banned headphones while masks are on, due to the Tim Incident."
Tim, rolling his eyes, shouting across the Cave: "I like listening to music sometimes! Patrol gets boring!"
Dick: "Great recap."
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frownyalfred · 11 months
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I cannot emphasize this enough: sometimes the draft sucks because you keep looking at it. It doesn’t actually suck. You just need to post it and stop beating yourself up.
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uwhe-arts · 4 months
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calm down . . . | uwhe-arts
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anastasiabowe · 2 months
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𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙈𝙀 𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆 𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘽𝘼𝘽𝙔 𝘿𝘼𝘿! — Your boyfriend’s baby mama keep trying to get him back, so you gotta show her how you fuck her baby dad..
Note: I do not condone ANY content that is sent to your partners ex.. but if it’s Choso, it’s Choso so enjoy! (Also isn’t proofread so Ntm)
Content Warnings: SWEARING, piv, unprotected sex, recording of intimacy, hair pulling, revenge on ex, sharing 18+ content, mention of Choso having a child (not in any 18+ moments.) , MINORS JUST GO AWAY thank you!
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“Fuck me.” Choso cursed to himself. You were in the kitchen washing your breakfast dishes. You looked over your shoulder to see him rub his forehead in what seems to be stress.
“Everything alright?” You dried your hands on the towel, and made your way to him. You wrap your arms around him, letting his ease into your warm arms.
“Just my ex..” he looked up at you, showing his phone. They one thing you appreciated about him is how honest he is. He always shows you his phone, and it’s almost comforting to know he has nothing to hide from you.
You grabbed his phone, and he stared at your face as you read the messages.
Jenny
11:40am
J: “Been thinking about you lately Cho..”
C: “I haven’t. What do you want, Jenny? Is something wrong with Mani?”
J: “nah, just been missing you.. can I do that?”
C: “I’ve told you to only contact me if it’s about Mani. If it isn’t, I’m done talking to you.”
J: “Cho, please, I miss you, I miss your smile. Why can’t I ever see you again? Like we only see each other when you come to pick up mani or I drop him off.”
Seen
“I’m going to beat her ass.” You pushed his phone back into his hands, and made your way to the front door only for Choso to grab your wrist.
“What?”
“Who the fuck does she is calling you ‘Cho’ like that?”
“Well don’t go beating her ass, she’s with mani right now.”
“Well what else can I do, this the 7th fucking time she coming out with these messages.”
Choso looked around in thought until a smirk appeared on his face.
“I got an idea.”
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“F-fuck!” Choso had both of your arms wrapped behind your back as he slammed his hips into your ass. He held your phone in his hand as he recorded you moaning out his name.
“Come on baby, who’s dick making you like this?”
“Y-yours!” You squealed when he readjusted, pushing the cold phone into your lower back, and stopping his movements. He soon picked up the pace again and it felt more than amazing.
Choso leaned on your back, bringing he camera around to face your messy face. Your head was half hurried in the comforter and your hands were gripping the sheets.
“Come on baby, we want to see your face!” Choso grabbed your hair, and you smiled as you stared into the camera, eyes threatening to roll back into your head.
“Good girl, doing so good for me.” Choso dropped the camera onto the bed, and swiftly turned you over, dick still inside.
“Gotta see your pretty face for real.” He picked up the camera and recorded how your cunt sucked him in every time he pulled out and pushed in.
The sight was more than unholy, it was obscene, but it only turned you on to know that this will be on your phone for you to see, and this would be the video showing how you fuck her baby dad.
You smiled at the thought of her thinking about the video everytime she even opens his contact.
“What’s got you so smiley?” Choso I’m assuming ended the video and tossed your phone next to your head. He then leaned in closer, chest to chest, and kissed your wet lips.
“Just thinking.” You giggled. He smiled, and deepened his thrusts. He pulled back, and brought your legs up into his shoulders. He then pounded harder into you, still having a smile of love and passion on his face.
“O-ooh Cho! S-shit slow down!” You cried as he kissed your ankle. Your stomach filled with butterfly’s as you felt your high coming quick.
“I’m gonna cum, Cho, I’m gonna cum!” He laughed, and leaned down to kiss you.
“Cum for me.” Those words made you let out a cry of pleasure as you came. Choso continued to rut and kiss you through it, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
“F-fuck baby, where d’you wan’ it?” Choso noted, waiting for your response.
“Inside!” You moaned, and Choso bit your ankle to stop himself from making any loud noises. He let out whimpers, and you smiled feeling him relax.
Choso quickly grabbed your phone, and swiped to the camera and pressed record. He slowly pulled out, and his cum mixed with yours flowed out.
Choso chuckled at the masterpiece you and him made.
“Look at that shit,” Choso scooped some of it up and pushed it back inside. “Keep it all in baby, tryna get you pregnant.”
Those words made your stomach flutter from the mere thought of having his kid. Everything about this was so filthy yet so thrilling, and you couldn’t wait to get that positive pregnancy test.
Choso then tossed your phone down onto a pile of clothes on the floor, and kissed you.
“You’d like that huh?” He pinched your side and you let out a laugh. He knew you’d like that very much.
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You were sound asleep when Choso opened your phone and sent the video to himself. He then sent that video to Jenny, making sure she knows who he really wanted.
Not even 5 minutes later, Jenny sent a message that made Choso laugh a little to loud.
J: “You guys are so fucking disgusting, I hope you choke on your fucking ego. I don’t want to see your face ever again, you fucking cunt.”
What made that funny was he had to see her in not even 8 hours when he has to pick up his son from her house. This will be a fun exchange.
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