In the first pic, we have got the twins, dasiy and belle (from left to right)

And in the second pic we have got lily (the name may change in the future, I am still indecisive about it)

I got inspiration from @billlinguini design for the jester collar (that's what Google calls it ＼(・ー・)／) form her funnybunny fankid, Harley (she's so cute)

I didn't intend to give both girls skirts but it kinda just happened, I don't really plan out my drawings or draw sketches, I just keep redrawing the same part until I am satisfied

I am gonna explain their reactions because why not, dasiy is sweating because she worried that she didn't hid the dynamite in her hand enough (in which that's true) and is praying to god her mom doesn't notice it and she could come up with excuse for being there, belle knows that she can't do anything really, so decided to lock in and pretend to be innocent, maybe it would distract her mom

Lily is a baby and naturally looks very cute despite being a menace, that unfortunately can't be punished like her older sisters because she's only 1

Spinelli turns, flipping completely in the tiny twin bed to press her face into his chest from where she had been the little spoon. 

“I don’t want you to drive fast,” she mumbles, but her fingers clutch onto his t-shirt with an iron grip. 

“Then, I probably have to head out,” he whispers back. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

She just moans in response, keeping her position for another second, before lifting her head to meet his eyes. 

“Alright,” she grumbles with a pout. “Let’s go.”

From across the room, Ashley Tomassian turns on her side, adjusting her eye mask as if to give them privacy. 

When the school year started, TJ hadn’t expected to spend so much time in Fayetteville. Originally, it was just going to be on the weekends or when Ashley T was going to stay over in Gus’s dorm. Nothing too crazy nor anything different from what they were used to doing already. 

But he hadn’t taken into account the day differences. He’d spent thirteen years of his life walking to school with Spinelli. Walking home with her. Sitting with her in class. Spending time with her at recess as a kid or saving her a seat at the lunch table as they got older or even going out of his way to walk her home from ballet. To go from constant daily access to just texts and phone calls five days a week?

Yeah. The weekends-only thing didn’t last very long. At first it was just when she was struggling. 

I can’t sleep. I cleared it with Ashley T. 

My mind won’t shut off.

Then…it just became second nature. 

My 8am got cancelled tomorrow. You wanna come over?

I miss you. 

I can’t sleep without you.

It’s not ideal. He works as an EMT almost every day he has off from his fire science classes at the community college, saving for their future. The early mornings are rough but worth it. But, he saves his Sundays for her.

Last night when he’d left, his father, sitting in the living room with the newspaper up to his face, had shouted out, “I better not get a bill from the University of Arkansas for your room and board fee!”

It was a joke, he thinks.

Spinelli reaches for her sweats, sliding them up her legs in the dark and tying the end of his shirt with a hair tie so it doesn’t dangle by her knees. Then they tiptoe out into the common area. TJ’s uniform’s already in his backseat of his car, but he grabs his lunchbox out of the fridge in their kitchenette. Spinelli meets him by the door with both their raincoats and shoes. 

Then she takes his hand and they walk out of her dorm together. 

It’s not a far walk to the parking lot, which is good because the skies have yet to close. Puddles collect on the asphalt as the rain continues to beat down on them. 

This is their new routine. He spends the night and leaves early enough to make his 0700 start time. She doesn’t need to wake up with him—he’s told her that a thousand times—but she refuses to have him walk out alone, wanting to savor the last few moments before he takes off again. 

His parents’ old beat up station wagon that they’d bestowed onto Becky and then to him is on its last leg, but it’s reliable enough to get him to and from where he needs to go. The car has seen hundreds of goodbyes by this point and this one is no exception. Spinelli wraps her arms around his shoulders, lifting up onto her toes. He leans down at first and then lifts her into his arms, up off the ground, hearing her tired little giggle that makes him smile through the tired monotony. 

“Text me when you get to the station,” she says when he sets her back down. 

He kisses her forehead. “I always do.”

She narrows her eyes. “You missed.”

He grins and kisses her lips, a quick peck that she follows with a longer one. He can tell she doesn’t want to let him go, as her fingers start to dance along the nape of his neck. The unfortunate part is he could absolutely do this forever, but he has to be at least semi-responsible. 

“You’re gonna catch a cold,” he says, kissing her wet cheek as he pulls back. “Go take a warm shower.”

“You’re awfully bossy this morning.”

“How do you like a taste of your own medicine?”

She scrunches her nose and sighs. “Fine, go save lives.”

Then, to be funny, he kisses the tip of her nose. She reaches for his shirt, pulling him down enough to kiss him one final time before rushing off back toward the dorms. He watches her go, making sure she gets inside—she forgot her ID once for badge access without her phone—and after she opens the door, turning around to wave and blow him a kiss, he finally gets inside the station wagon.