Everyone, kiss him on the forehead, quick!
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

JVL

if i look back, i am lost
Sade Olutola
🪼
Stranger Things
DEAR READER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Acquired Stardust
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@theartofmadeline

oozey mess
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Not today Justin

blake kathryn

titsay
taylor price
Claire Keane

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@5fragments
Everyone, kiss him on the forehead, quick!
I absolutely HATED the final episode, but the scene in the garden/bookshop was so pretty 💔
[Huckleabbot]
His dad had liked it when he got into reading his old gun catalogue magazines.
Just maybe not for the reasons Dennis was getting into them.
Sooooo I just saw OBSESSION and let me tell you, I'll need to keep the lights on when I move around my place at night for the next few days
Ummm she's literally sensitive :/
Some domestic Rabbot for the soul 🥺💕
i know i've written this before, but as i am preparing for several beach/water vacations this summer: rabbot beach day.
jack in the tiniest shorts he can get away with (not just because he likes to feel sexy and have robby stare, but because he runs hot and too much clothing bothers his skin and when in rome, you take your clothes off at the beach, you know? and he tries to get as tan as possible whenever possible.)
robby having to be bullied into taking his shirt off. receiving a scandalized groan from jack when robby freely admits he was planning to leave his shirt on and stay under the beach umbrella the entire time. staying on the beach chair with his detective novel and his sunglasses on and maybe a popsicle, maybe a little virgin fruity drink with am umbrella in it, some excuse for jack to stare at his lips.
jack is a fish. sometimes the stares on his prosthetic (a special one for swimming) make him squirmy, sometimes they make him angry, sometimes he decides he is not going to let them get to him today, that nothing is going to put a damper on his day at the beach with his man. he swims until his arms are too tired to go another inch, and makes sure to wait until robby's watching before rising from the waves like a mermaid.
doesn't matter that robby's wearing sunglasses, jack has known and loved him for thirty years, he knows what it looks like when robby's trying to pretend he's not staring at jack dripping water.
once jack tires himself out, covered in sand and his curls even curlier than normal from the water, flushed from exercise and a bit of sunburn on his cheeks (oh, and most of the reason jack begged and bullied robby into taking his shirt off was so he could rub sunscreen into robby's skin) he plops down onto the blanket beside him, out of breath but grinning wildly.
robby looks at him over his sunglasses, prescription reading sunglasses, something jack teases him endlessly about. "you gonna get in the water?" jack husks, kinda hoping robby will pick him up and toss him in.
"you gonna sit still for a minute and just listen to the waves?" robby counters, shuffling off the beach chair to lay beside him on the towel, on his side, staring into jack's eyes. pretending like it isn't a crowded beach with all kinds of other people around. pretending like they're the only people in the world.
"i guess i could be convinced," jack mumbles, ready to take a nap, grateful for the umbrella as he turns onto his stomach to hide his eyes in the crook of his arm.
robby takes the opportunity to slap his ass in the tiny swim shorts, of course, and stands up to get them some snacks. jack will nap, robby and jack will share a bag of overpriced popcorn and gossip about the people passing them by, about the couple arguing next to them about who forgot the sunscreen and who made them late.
jack will kiss the ice cream taste out of robby's mouth, later, when they go for a walk holding hands on the beach, stopping at an ice cream truck, which robby pretends not to want because that's for kids, but jack buys him one just to make him smile. "you deserve it, sweetheart," he'll say, entirely sincere, kissing robby's cheek with a hand on his back.
they'll pack up together and bitch about sand in places they didn't know sand could gather, they'll get home and fall asleep immediately at seven PM in each other's arms (because there is science behind why the beach tires you out, yes, but also they're old men in love who are chronically tired and eager for a sleepy cuddle.)
the next day, robby will trace jack's new swim shorts tan line with his tongue, line his hipbones and the v of his crotch with hickeys right where the water was kissing him, mumbling praise about his perfect mermaid, about how jealous robby was of his shorts in that moment, about how lucky robby is, how much he loved seeing jack's happy smile after swimming, the one that could end wars and save lives as it has many times before...
but right now, they just close their eyes together and listen to the waves, where there's peace, where their heads can't be louder than the sound of the ocean.
Come celebrate Pride Month in da pitt! 🤩🏳️🌈 even the rats are celebrating~
St1cker sheet + ch4rms for grab here! 😽
The carrier of carriers. A tribute to Terry Pratchett
So. You just got home from deployment, and while you were away your twink boyfriend graduated to an otter.
What’s your next move?
The following little ficlet I wrote has been fully inspired by one of @roobydoos beautiful pieces of art. All of which I want to eat btw because they're so gorgeous and scribbly. Thank you for all the work you do.
Please take a look at the wonderful art (here)
and also look at all the other bits if you haven't come across their blog yet! Positively scrumptious all around!!!
Now, I've been wanting to make Jack suffer for a good minute, so be wary of robby-typical active suicidal ideation as you venture forth!
rabbot | 2.4k | heavy-ish angst | eventual comfort | Jack finally gets to break down | but only after suffering from almost losing Robby
French-Iranian author and illustrator Marjane Satrapi, best known for the book and film “Persopolis”, has died of "sadness", members of her
This one hurt, her work had such a profound effect on my life, thoughts, and politics.
May her memory be a blessing
The first thing that startled Robby was just how long it took him to realise what he'd done. He'd strode across to meet the incoming ambulance, heard what info the EMTs had to pass on, walked the gurney into Trauma One, supervised Cassie and Nazely's assessment and stabilisation of the patient—gunshot wound to the abdomen, lower right quadrant; congratulations, you've just won the hopefully-once-in-a-lifetime chance to have Yolanda Garcia rummage around in your insides—and only then did it hit him.
He'd been out in the ambulance bay on the phone with Jack when he'd heard the wail of an approaching ambulance. Their discussion of whether to try the fancy new pizzeria with the odd toppings around the corner from Jack's place, or just to stick with the tried-and-true option for watching the game tonight, would have to wait. "Gotta go," Robby had said, distracted as he tried to estimate how far out the rig was, "see you later, I love you."
Robby stood there in the trauma bay and the full horror of the realisation slowly dawned on him. He'd told Jack he loved him. He'd told Jack he loved him, and then he'd hung up on him.
"Fuck," Robby said.
He snapped off the nitrile gloves he was wearing, binned them, and pulled his phone from his pocket between his thumb and his forefinger, as if he was handling some kind of medical waste. Nothing. No missed calls, no voice mails, no texts except for a scam one trying to get him to pay an imaginary FasTrak toll in California. Nothing at all from Jack, and Robby couldn't decide if that was better or worse.
Hand-off to Shen and Ellis was its usual clockwork, and on the drive over to Jack's place Robby went through various stages of bargaining with the universe. Maybe Jack hadn't heard him. Reception in the ambulance bay could be spotty. Calls sometimes dropped. Or maybe Jack would laugh it off, treat it as just the kind of brain fart you sometimes got near the end of a long but humdrum shift—like how a little kid in elementary school might absent-mindedly call their teacher 'mom' in front of the whole class.
A little voice in Robby's head, one that sounded suspiciously like his therapist, said what are you bargaining here for, exactly? Which was one of many reasons why therapy was doing a number on his temporomandibular joint, because clearly Jack had been getting along just fine with Robby not saying anything, even though Robby had surely been painfully, mortifyingly obvious, and wasn't the whole point of the therapy sessions for him to learn how not to leak his feelings all over everything and everyone?
And really, Robby thought as he parked in front of Jack's building and sat there rubbing at the hinge of his jaw, would we even call what Robby felt for Jack love? Or if he did, well, there were lots of different kinds of love. It didn't have to be that kind. Did it? Robby strained to recall all those ancient Greek words for love he'd studied in a long ago philosophy gen ed course. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, one two three. Who was to say that Robby hadn't meant brotherly love? Philia. That could have been what he meant.
It's still bargaining if you're splitting hairs and looking for get-out clauses, his little internal therapist pointed out.
"Fuck," Robby said.
In the elevator ride up to Jack's condo, Robby wondered if there was scope for him to invent some sudden emergency. If he could just text Jack and say, Sorry, can't make it tonight, my condo's flooded or Cafeteria food gave me food poisoning, see you in 24-48 hours. But part of him felt like: well, hell, face the music. Play stupid phone games, accept stupid phone prizes.
See you later, I love you.
"Fuck," Robby said, with emphasis.
Right after he knocked on Jack's door, Robby realised he'd been so distracted by what he'd said that he'd totally forgotten what he'd promised to do in the first place. As soon as Jack appeared, in shorts and a ratty old t-shirt, Robby blurted out, "I didn't bring any pizza."
Jack looked at him, slow and steady, and then said, "We're working on our conversational segues, huh?"
"You heard it, right?" Robby said as Jack stepped back to let him in.
"Heard it, yeah," Jack said, closing the door and used one of his crutches to point in the direction of the living room. Robby obeyed, glum. The pre-game show should have started by now, but Jack's TV was switched off. A glass of whiskey sat on the coffee table. Robby had the distinct impression that he wasn't going to be watching the game that night. "Heard it, thought about it. Processed," with that precise, Dr-Abbot-y enunciation that could be terrifying when turned on a wayward med student and that now made Robby wince.
"I'm sorry," Robby said, hoping Jack would also hear the sincerity in his tone. "It was a lapse, it doesn't have to mean anything, I can keep a handle on it."
"Oh my god," Jack said, in tones of disbelief as resonant as if Robby had just confessed to liking low-fat popcorn, or thinking that the Pirates had a chance of winning the World Series this year.
"I can go," Robby offered. "If you don't want—"
"Sit," Jack said, and pointed at his couch. Robby sat. Jack picked up his glass and knocked back the last of the whiskey in one big gulp. Robby winced. That boded."Okay."
"'Okay' what?"
Jack squinted at him. "You think you're getting to steer this conversation right now? Because that happened earlier, and look where that got us."
"Jesus," Robby said.
"Let's leave him out of this," Jack said and, setting his crutches down, moved to straddle Robby's lap.
"Um," Robby said.
"You didn't need to woo me with fancy pizza," Jack said, "because brother, surely you know a sure thing when you see it. But I will say—"
Robby was long familiar with that particular tone. He rolled his eyes, preemptively.
"—as first declarations of like, undying passions or whatever, you could do with a little more finesse."
"Undying passion?" Robby echoed.
Jack stared impassively at him and raised both his eyebrows. "Well?"
Robby took a deep breath and fought not to close his eyes. Surely he could be brave enough to say this to Jack face-to-face? "I love you. I'm in love with you. I don't know when it first started but I do know that I can't imagine myself now without that fact of loving you. I'm not… I'm not good at words, I don't sing love songs well, but for you, I wish I could."
Jack leaned forward, rested one hand gently on Robby's chest, right over his heart. The expression on Jack's face now terrified Robby; made him want to keep being brave.
"I said it because it's what I'm always feeling. When I say hello to you, I mean I love you. When I say good night, I mean that I love you. When I—"
Their first kiss was a slow thing, a tremendous thing, with as much weight and heft to it as Jack had in Robby's lap. Robby's hands came up to settle on Jack's hips, and his head swam like he was the one who'd drunk the whiskey, instead of just having licked the taste of it from Jack's mouth.
"How about now?" Jack murmured, voice gone raspy. "Do you mean it now?"
"Yes," Robby said, and he'd never wanted Jack to believe him so much about something as he did right now. "Jack, I—"
"I love you, too," Jack said, and he was smiling like he'd just discovered the map to some undiscovered country, and the only thing that startled Robby now was how long it had taken them to speak.
All I Ever Wanted
in happier pride news i actually found this deeply heartwarming
that's solidarity baybeeee
Further context: Durham city council (Reform UK) cut funding and support for Pride. The Durham Miner's Association and other trade unions raised enough money for Durham Pride 2026 to go ahead - a direct call back to when Lesbian and Gays Support the Miners (LGSM) raised money for mining communities when Margaret Thatcher seized union funding during the miner strikes of 1984-85.
At the 1985 Labour party meet, the motion to support LGBT rights as a party was passed due to a block vote from mining unions.
Stephen Guy, the chair of the Durham Miners’ Association, said that when it became apparent Durham Pride was under threat, he took it upon himself to “encourage the trade union movement to step up and do the right thing, and stand shoulder to shoulder with the LGBT+ community […] They not only raised funds for us, but came to our communities, uplifted our spirits when they were down, and showed their solidarity.”