i need to dye it i know

10

Steve isn’t the only one to have lost the love of his life, either.

Charles Aznavour - She ♫

random bios

c stewrtz 

  • do not be worried about what people think of you
  • when it’s over, leave.
  • im such a sarcastic bitch
  • go ahead. do your worst.
  • im senseless
  • too fucking cute for this
  • enjoy the silence
  • everytime you smile at me i fall in love over and over again
  • it’s awful to want to go away
  • no words can explain the way i miss you
  • my heart talks about nothing but you
  • i cant and i dont to want see another thing
  • millions of stars in the sky, but all i wanna do is stare into your eyes
  • is there no way out of the mind?
  • they say i act like i dont give a fuck, i tell them im not acting
  • if you think of pulling the trigger, keep in mind that I could still shoot first
  • three word story: pain changes people
  • i don’t need a Valentine, i need Valentino
  • i’m all yours i got no control
  • lets do what we love and do a lot of it
  • have the courage to follow your heart
  • i’ll never be good enough at anything
  • i like the storms, they let me know that even the sky scream sometimes
  • you can dye your hair, buy new clothes, you can change your shoes, rearrange your nose but it don’t change the fact that you’re ugly on the inside
  • i don’t wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck
  • if you never shoot i’ll never know
Someone wise said to me, which is that you are happy when you feel like you’re being authentic. So if you know who you are on the inside and that is the who you are that you are portraying on the outside that’s when you feel… well, it’s you know it’s one of the things that can make you feel at ease. Or rather that if-if you feel like the person you are portraying on the outside isn’t wholly reflecting who you are on the inside that can be a source of stress and anxiety and I’m sure lots of you might feel like that being in a friend group that you might not vibe, you feel like maybe you can’t express yourself because of the situation you’re stuck in. Maybe your family, the school or something like that and it’s that whole thing where you feel like you need to be who I am. And you know that could be coming out, it could be dyeing your hair, it could be becoming a hamster breeder and running away to Argentina. It’s important that all of you try to not… not NOT be someone in a negative way but just aspire to be, to communicate the person you are on the inside.
— 

@danielhowell during his live show on the 2nd of May 2017

Quotes from Dan (45/?)

Striving to be authentic can be so difficult, especially if you’re stuck in a situation where you cannot be yourself.

Translation from Naruhodo Fanbook

I felt like doing some translation for my own enjoyment so I grabbed my Naruhodo fanbook and picked this amazing scene out from the character blog section in the back. This was written by Takumi Shuu as promo material for the original trilogy back in 2005.

“English Version”

Mayoi: Hey, hey Naruhodo-kun! Did you hear?

Naruhodo: Hear what? You look awfully excited.

M: Apparently we’re finally gonna make our American debut!

N: Oh, you mean the English version, huh?

M: And apparently the setting is, get this, the crime capital, Los Angeles! Isn’t it exciting?!

N: …Don’t let anyone from Los Angeles hear you call their city that. They’ll get mad.

M: Well, they have a saying there: “If you toss a rock into a crowd, it’ll hit a criminal.”

N: You do realize that the second you throw a rock into a crowd, you yourself are a criminal, right?

********

M: You know, Naruhodo-kun. Something about you just doesn’t do it for me…

N: Wh-what do you mean?

M: It’s your face. It wouldn’t fit the image of “the crime capital.” You’ve gotta at least dye your hair blond.

N: B-blond…?!

M: Ah! Come to think of it, there’s an old saying in my village.

N: Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.

M: Let’s see, they say if you wash your hair with beer, it’ll turn blond!

N: ……..

M: It’s a saying that’s been passed down for years, but no one’s tried it out yet.

N: All you’d need is one person to try it to know whether it’s true… That’s not much of a mystery.

M: Just wait a sec, ok? I’m gonna go buy some beer.

N: ….Um, you know, Mayoi-chan, I feel like I should just give you a heads up.

M: Hmm? about what?

N: You know this doesn’t mean we’ll be going to America ourselves, right?

M: What?! No way! Seriously?!

N: The name of the main character in the English version isn’t even “Naruhodo Ryuuichi”.

M: Aw come on! What’s his name, then?!

N: Um, if I remember correctly, it’s Phoenix Wright.

M: …Your name got changed to “Feenicks”?

N: What’s that face for?

M: I mean, look at you! You don’t look like a “Phoenix” at all.

N: You don’t think so? Personally, I think I’ve got some birdlike qualities.

M: In that case, I think they should’ve gone with “chicken” for you. Chicken lawyer.

N: Mayoi-chan… You’re in a weirdly combative mood today.

M: And you’re not nearly bright enough to earn the name “Light”

N: I’m pretty sure “Wright” and “Light” are two different words. Probably.

M: What about “Rice” instead?

N: Um, what?

M: Forget Phoenix Wright. Go with Chicken Rice.

N: Who the heck would ever name their kid that?

M: Or maybe “Fried” would be good. Chicken Fried.

N: Well, what would your name be, Mayoi-chan?

M: Me? Let’s see… My name’s Mayoi, so how about “Mayonnaise”?

N: …That actually might suit you pretty well.

M: I’m a fan of mayonnaise.

N: Chicken Fried and Mayonnaise… We sound like a pretty high calorie pair.

M: More like a delicious pair.

N: Come to think of it, what do you think Mitsurugi’s name should be?

M: Let’s see… His name is Mitsurugi Reiji, so… How about “Ray G. Mituroogi”?

N: Huh. That’s unexpectedly straightforward.

M: But it gives you a sense of his pickiness, don’t you think? Especially the “Mituroogi” part.

N: Either way, I’m pretty sure they’ll make his name totally different.

**********

M: ……………..

N: ? What’s up? You’re weirdly quiet all of a sudden.

M: I might’ve just thought of something amazing.

N: What’s that?

M: The perfect crime… in Los Angeles.

N: Perfect crime… You?

M: So there’s a lawyer who looks exactly like you over there in the Crime Capital, right?

N: I guess. Mr. Phoenix.

M: So for example, you could go to a restaurant and eat a whole bunch of food, like chicken rice and fried chicken with mayonnaise on it.

N: Yes, I can see it now…

M: Then when the bill comes, you can tell them you forgot your wallet at home. When someone from the staff grabs you by the scruff of your neck, you shout “I AM PHOENIX!”

N: …When I picture that scene, it looks like some serious carnage took place there.M: And then they’ll send the bill to that Attorney Phoenix guy, see?

N: …I feel like attempting a crime like that would get you stoned by someone.

M: And I could eat all the miso ramen I wanted too!

N: Unfortunately, I don’t think they have miso ramen in America.

M: Really? You think? …I wonder what American me’s favorite food is, then.

N: Who knows?

Voice: Excuse meee!

M: Oh, there’s someone at the door. Comingggg!

Delivery man: Um, I have something here for the Naruhodo and Co. Law Offices… Ah, for a Miss Mayoi. Is that you?

M: Y-yes, that’s me. What is it?

D: I work at the restaurant Burger Land, and I have a bill here for you.

M: “15 Triple Burgers at 4,500 yen a piece”… Th-this wasn’t me!

D: Sorry, but it was definitely you. You came to our shop, stuffed your mouth with burgers, and shouted “I AM MAYOI,” spraying food everywhere!

M: …………

N: ………..

M: They got us first, Naruhodo-kun.

N: Sounds like the American you likes burgers, huh?

Birthday Cake (Evan/Connor)

This is dedicated to @connorxxmurphy and her wonderful cake! This is for you! 

—–

Evan hummed to himself as he stirred the cake batter. Soft instrumental music played in the background as the oven beeped, signifying that it was preheated.

Evan was making a cake for his boyfriend. Ever since he was little, Evan has always enjoyed baking, but now he had a reason to make a birthday cake for someone!

“How are you doing, Hon?” Heidi poked her head into the kitchen. Evan smiled warmly at her, and started to pour the batter into the pan.

“Good, Mom. It should be ready around 6, and Con and I are having a date here at 7.” He said. Heidi beamed.

“I will get out of the house by then, in that case, don’t want to ruin a special birthday date!” Heidi walked over to her son and rubbed his arms. “Do you have anything else planned for tonight?”

“Yup. Ordering pizza, and I have his favorite movie. For a gift, I got him a new hoodie, and the cake.”

“Aw, Evan, you are the sweetest boyfriend. Connor is going to love it.” Heidi gave Evan a small kiss on the cheek, one last arm squeeze, and walked out of the kitchen. Evan put the pan full of cake batter in the oven, and set the timer.

As he started to make the frosting, Evan let his thoughts travel. Connor and Evan had been dating for about five months now, every day better than the last, but this was the first birthday they had spent together. Evan wanted it to be perfect, and the one thing he knew for sure that he could make perfectly was cake. He hoped that Connor liked his new hoodie as well. Evan has been guilty of stealing a few (or more) of his boyfriend’s hoodies, but he couldn’t help it! All of his hoodies were constantly warm and smelled like Connor.

Evan finished the frosting (It was a regular green frosting with a hint of a mint taste) and set it to the side. The cake still have 10 minutes to bake, so texting Connor seemed like the most attractive idea right now.

Evan: hey connor!

Evan: how does it feel to be an old man now? youre officially 18!!

Connor: i kinda want to take a nap

Evan: con… its 5:30 in the evening, plus we have our special birthday date at 7… pls dont sleep

Connor: bah humbug

Evan: babe…. Thats christmas

Connor: what are you up to?

Evan: stuff hbu

Connor: very specific

Evan: shut up

Connor: im gonna take a shower i will text you when im on my way to your house

Evan: okie dokie!! See you soon!!

Evan put down his phone. There was a few more minutes on the cake, so Evan pulled out the rest of his supplies. He would need to wait for the cake to cool before frosting, but Evan was always impatient when it came to baking.

A mint bar, some sprinkles and more green food dye. Connor liked mint, so Evan couldn’t help but go all out for his boyfriend.

An hour later, everything was set up. The cake was frosted, and was sitting in the fridge (to hide from Connor). Evan had ordered the pizza, and it should arrive around the same time that Connor comes over. Evan’s phone buzzed.

Connor: i know im early but is it cool if i come over now

Evan: of course

Connor: see you in ten?

Evan: yes!

Almost exactly eight minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” Evan said, shoving the cake haphazardly into the fridge. Heidi came downstairs as Evan reached the door. He opened the door with great flourish. “Happy birthday Connor!” He shouted as his boyfriend came into view.

Connor was wearing his standard black hoodie and jeans. His hair was pulled back into a bun, and he was smiling.

“Thank you! How are you doing, babe?” Connor stepped into the house, giving Evan a quick kiss on the lips. Heidi walked in, and hugged Connor.

“Happy birthday!” Heidi said. Connor smiled. “Now, I will get out of your hair. Have fun you two!” In a flash, Heidi was gone.

“Ready to watch the movie?” Evan asked, grabbing Connor’s hand. Connor beamed at him, and let his boyfriend lead the way.

A few hours and a pizza later, Evan had decided that it was time for gifts.

“Babe, you really didn’t need to get me anythi-” Connor tried to protest as Evan ran out of the room to get his gift.

“Shush!” Evan called back, grabbing the hoodie. He didn’t bother wrapping it. “Happy birthday, Connor!” Evan wasn’t going to lie, he almost felt jealous about the look of pure joy that Connor had on his face when he saw the jacket.

“Evan!” Connor had simply exclaimed before slipping the jacket on. It was a good fit, amid the sleeves that went a little past Connor’s hands. “Thank you so much!” Evan kissed Connor before standing up again.

“I got one more thing for you,” He said before going into the kitchen. This time, Connor didn’t protest, only watched him go with wide eyes.

Evan brought out the cake with obvious pride. Connor’s jaw dropped as Evan placed the cake on the table in front of him.

“Ev…” Connor said in a breathy voice. Evan lit one of the candles that was placed in the center and sat down next to Connor.

“Happy birthday to you,” He started to sing softly. Evan was by no means a talented singer, but this was a special occasion. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Connor, happy birthday to you!” Evan kissed Connor’s cheek and rested his chin on Connor’s shoulder. “Make a wish babe.”

Connor started to lean towards the cake but instead turned to Evan and kissed him deeply. It was only when Connor pulled away that Evan realized that Connor was crying. He quickly blew out the candle and hugged Evan tightly burying his face in Evan’s shirt.

“Hey. what is wrong?” Evan asked softly, feeling panicked. Did he not like the cake? Instead of responding, Connor just shook his head. After a few moments, Connor inhaled a shuddering breath and pulled out of the hug. Evan was quick to wipe away Connor’s tears. “Is it the cake? Is it too much?”

Connor laughed a watery laugh. “No, it’s not the cake. It is just, no one has ever done this much for my birthday, like ever. It means a lot to me.” Evan smiled, and moved close to his boyfriend.

“Alway, Connor. If I could, I would get the moon for you.” At Evan’s words, Connor smiled brightly, and kissed him. “Now, let’s get some cake, okay?”

Another Idol Flirting With You Over Text {Reaction}

Summary: Finding texts between you and an idol your a fan of flirting with you.

Namjoon

Namjoon had decided to go through your phone for fun when you had left it unlocked. He didn’t really like what he found due to seeing T.O.P from BigBang had been texting you flirty messages. Though the messages were vague and you had only said thank you he was still pissed. When you had come back into the room you had wide eyes and Namjoon had a devious smile mixed with hurt eyes.

“Y/N really, trust me I know he’s hot and all but c’mon what does he have that I don’t. We’re literally the same height and dye our hair and shit. If this is the case I’m gonna show you princess why I’m the one you call daddy.”

Originally posted by forever-young-got7

Jin

Jin was baking brownies for the two of you when you had left your phone on the counter unattended, he went to take the phone to you when he had noticed the text was from Jackson from Got 7 had texted you saying ‘Babygirl we need to hang out alone just once ;)’ Instantly this struck a nerve in Jin.

“Y/N I COOK FOR YOU I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS!” You came back into the kitchen giving Jin the most confused look. “Kim Seokjin I get you’re not a snooper but if you looked a little further you would’ve seen I’ve ignored every text from him.” You let out a giggle as Jin smeared a bit of brownie mix on your face from defeat.

Originally posted by totallyyehet

J-Hope

You and Hoseok had been looking through pictures on your phone when you had gotten a text from Hyuna along the lines of ‘Y/N your body is amazing your hot asf’. Hoseok had looked at you with the biggest shocked expression and starting running around the apartment before he had stopped in front of you.

“Y/N I knew Hyuna seemed a little freaky in her videos but I would’ve never guessed her to flirt with my girlfriend!” You tried to explain that Hyuna was helping you through some body image issues but J-Hope had never let you explain before he started spilling all his threesome fantasies to you.

Originally posted by weakforjin

Yoongi

Yoongi had seen your phone blowing up with messages from Mark from Got 7 saying how he could change your life with just one night. Yoongi had confronted you with a really pissy attitude. You tried to explain Mark did this for a bit but he seemed to stop till a few hours ago. As a last resort Yoongi took your phone and you assumed he was going to block Mark but instead he took the phone and texted Mark. ‘Listen hear, you need to leave my girl alone and I’d tear your ass up any day with rapping.’  Yoongi threw your phone on the couch to pin you against a wall.

“If he ever texts you again my anger will be taken out on you and the neighbors will know my name.” You could hear him grit his teeth as he walked away with a wink.

Originally posted by bulletproofwinner

Taehyung

Taehyung had been playing games on your phone when he decided he wanted to play a joke and change all the names in your contacts to something different, when he noticed Daesung from BigBang was texting you a bunch of cute names he liked to call you. Taehyung tossed the phone to you when you came back only rolling his eyes. You were really confused, you decided to unlock the phone and then realized why. You decided to prove to Taehyung he was the only one for you by a night of messing around between the sheets spoiling him. When it had come to Taehyung pleasuring you back he edged you so close to an orgasm, he then stopped to leave you hanging.

“Babygirl this is payback.” He gave you kiss on the forehead then fell fast asleep.

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jimin

You had your phone mirrored onto the TV to watch videos with Jimin when a text from Seunguri from BigBang had popped up with a ton of smirky face emojis and a selca of him attached. Jimin had went wide eyed putting a hand to his heart like he was shot. You already knew what was happening when Jimin had made himself fall off the bed onto the floor.

“Y/N I’m supposed to be your one and only sweet selca mochi what is this nonsense?” He had a hand to his forehead when you decided to start throwing pillows at him making it break into a pillow fight.

Originally posted by k-pop-crazy

 Jungkook

Jungkook was trying to take a nap while you were in the shower but your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with text messages. He went to mute your phone but he couldn’t help to peek at the messages. The lock screen was filled with texts from BamBam with pictures of memes attached. Jungkook had jumped off the couch crashing into the bathroom. You instantly jumped almost falling when he had flung the shower curtain open. He fell to his knees in the most dramatic way flailing his arms up,

“Y/N I thought you were only my meme queen!?”

***** ok but wHy does this gif fit s0 well 

Originally posted by mochifairyjimin

Random Domestic BNHA Thoughts ... Again

Okay, I am complete and utter domestic garbage and we all know this at this point so here we go again. I just had this thought and I need to get it out. These are just some random thoughts. 


Eraserhead and Present Mic adopt a little girl that is obsessed with their hair. Both of them have very long and beautiful locks so she loves brushing, braiding, and making them pretty with sparkly clips. 

Just imagine her coming up to Shouta while he’s watching the news, holding her pink kitty brush and her bag of hair clips behind her back. And she uses her best manners and cutest face to ask her father because, although he tries to be the stricter parent, she knows exactly how to work him over. “Papa, may I pretty please play with your hair?” / “Hmm, since you have good manners and asked nicely, that’s fine.” / “Yay! Thank you, Papa!”

Or Hizashi comes home with groceries to find Shouta face down on the floor with his daughter sitting his back happily braiding away.  Or Shouta walks in the door and sees Hizashi rocking twin pigtails with poorly done make up on his face. “Papa, look! I made Daddy all pretty!” / “Yeah, Shouta, tell me. Am I beautiful?” / “Well … she certainly did her best with what she had to work with.” / “Shouta, you’re so mean.”

And one day, when Shouta gets a trim because his hair was getting too long to manage, his daughter is devastated. Even though he only got an inch cut, she throws a fit because “Papa cut all his hair off!” / “… I only got a trim.” / “Shouta, how could you do this to our angel!” / “ …… Are you kidding me? Not you too.” So Shouta goes out to buy some new kitty hair clips because he really hates to see his little girl so upset.

Last thought. Imagine Hizashi and Shouta talking their daughter out for ice cream while wearing pink, sparkly, kitten clips, temporary dye, twin buns, and just looking so unbothered. Their daughter is on Hizashi’s shoulders; he is grinning, of course, as Shouta wears a bored look on his face, but both of them know he’s actually enjoying himself. It’s just two gay heroes with their little girl and their ice cream trying to enjoy their day out.

Okay. I’m done.

I am posting this video for those who feel a little disheartened, and are losing their faith, after watching the scene between Jon and D. in 7.06, and for those who are going to feel, even more disheartened, by the scene we’ve yet to see in 7.07.

I find it hilarious, how Kit said this sentence with such innocence, and yet it came out so, so wrong, and he only realizesd how wrong it sounded, only half a second, after, the sentence had already come out his mouth, bless his heart. 😂 

“I’d like to put myself into a wolf“, which absolutely, everyone, in that room took as, “I’d like to put my “sword” into a “wolf”. 😏🤣

Now, this “misinterpretation”, led to Dan giving us such a sweet Easter Egg 🙃 Pay attention to what Dan B. Weiss replies to what Kit said, “l’ve got two
words for you, Season 6, Season 6.“, and what happened in season 6? Yep, you guessed it, Jon and Sansa reunited.

And well, we all know, how their scenes were filmed/directed from then and onwards. Tender forehead kisses, lingering looks, lip staring contests, sweet touches, sweet head caressing, sweet hand grabbing/holding, just sweetness, so much sweetness between the two of them, scenes in cadle lit rooms, fighting, and then heavily panting because of it, literally like a married couple, Jon cloaking Sansa into his old cloak, Sansa cloaking Jon into a Stark cloak, made by her, one that looks just like the one, Ned, used to wear, and that he wears almost at all times.

We got, “I’ll never let him TOUCH you again. I’ll protect you, I promise. *almost punches Ramsay to death.”, and “TOUCH my sister and I’ll kill you myself. *almost chokes LF to death*“, and “Does she miss me terribly? *silence and death stare from Jon*”, and “What you did for her, is the ONLY reason I’m not killing you.”, and “You’re as far from Joffrey as ANYONE I’ve ever met.”, and the list can go on, and on.

My fellow Jonsa shippers, Dan B. Weiss, LITERALLY, confirmed Jonsa, by telling us, that Jon will make love to/put himself into a wolf, and that it’ll all start in season 6. The “wolf” is not Arya, for obvious reasons, so that leaves us with Sansa.

I just want to add that this was filmed before even season 5 aired. D&D planned
Jonsa to happen a long time ago, it was not a decision of the moment. I read somewhere that they had planned since season 2, to marry Sansa to Ramsay, and then reunite her with Jon in season 6. They made all the changes, so that they’d reunite as soon as possible, to build their relashionship up, to subtly build them up for romance. Also, I read that early on, Sophie asked why she needed to dye her hair red, and that she was told, her having red hair is, very, important for the plot/story, and well, we all know Jon likes redheads, so there ya go. 

Have faith, and patience, sweetlings, Jonsa is Coming.

should you fight them: clone wars edition
  • anakin: if you value your life, do not fight anakin. he probably deserves it, but you might die, so i wouldn't recommend.
  • obi-wan: he's gone through enough shit, why do you even want to fight him? i guess if you really need to, just know that there's no way you will ever win, but he won't kill you unless you're an immediate threat. just don't hurt him, please, he does not deserve any more hardships.
  • ahsoka: why would you fight ahsoka? do you like beating up innocent padawan ladies who have never done you any wrong? plus, anakin will probably gut you.
  • rex: literally do not fight rex. he is completely innocent and has experienced too much sadness for one very short clone lifetime, please do not fight him. plus he will fuck you up, i mean have you seen this boy??? like anakin probably won't come after you but it's because he knows he doesn't need to.
  • barriss offee: please fight barriss. you know exactly why. just do it! fight her! she deserves to have her ass kicked immediately.
  • asajj ventress: she'll hand you your ass and probably kill you, but if you want to fight her, then i guess?? sure???
  • satine: DO NOT FIGHT SATINE. you will win, but at what cost? AT WHAT COST???? plus, obi-wan will kick your ass.
  • lux bonteri: he's a great politician, but he's also as useful in a fight as a tie-dye handbag, so you probably shouldn't fight him. i mean, you'd win, but it wouldn't be satisfying.
  • padme: she might seem weak and easy to defeat, but she's had like 10 assassination attempts and she's not even thirty yet, nor is she dead. do not fight her. PLUS, anakin would try to kill you if you even looked at her wrong, so like. there's that.
  • hondo ohnaka: you should probably fight him, but you also really don't want to get on his bad side, but he's also strangely likeable, despite being a literal kidnapping, thieving, smuggling pirate? i dunno, dude. i guess you can fight him, but you should be careful.
  • palpatine: i cannot stress how much you should fight palpatine. you'll probably die, but it will be worth it.
If the types were things people have told me

INTJ: “You look like someone who has just been possessed by the devil”

INTP: “Your intelligence is so weird that it sometimes surprises me that you’re actually smart”

ENTJ: “You always talk as if you were giving an speech”

ENTP: “Why do you have to refute every single thing I say?”

INFJ: “You’re weirder than a green dog”

INFP: “You look at me with those blue eyes and you see my soul”

ENFJ: “When I’m with you I feel confident, your presence comforts me”

ENFP: “You don’t see things black or white, you go to the greys”

ISTJ: “You’re the most reasonable and objective person I know”

ISTP: “You should dye your hair red”

ESTJ: “There’s no need to repeat the entire page for a word that’s wrong, you can just erase it”

ESTP: “Some things you say are like “girl shut the fuck up””

ISFJ: “You’re much warmer when people get to know you”

ISFP: “You’re original even with your water bottle”

ESFJ: “Sometimes if you try to cover everything you end up covering nothing”

ESFP: “It’s easy to be your friend”

skye07  asked:

Ohhh!!! you wrote the knitting Tony story!!!! I've been hunting that story for a long time!!! (was on a reading spree on your Tony tag, I'm having a swell of a time) So HOW ABOUT!! Someone finding or just ended up in Tony's stash room (it might be a floor if we are being honest, I would with his resources). I am salivating just imaginging the AMOUNT of yarn Tony must have collected, of all colours and types. Just, please. I would love you even more if you decide this prompt worthy~~

You mean that story I sent to bloody-bee-tea about Tony knitting? I’m surprised I haven’t written more Tony knitting, tbh. Hope you like it! Look out for under the cut!

This work can also be found on my Ao3 here.


Natasha had been investigating her new home when she stumbled into it. The room was gigantic, cube shelves covering the walls. Every single shelf had balls of yarn in it, starting with red in one corner and spreading in a circular rainbow of yarns, except for the few columns of shelves that were filled with needles, hooks, counters of some sort?

Natasha felt nervous for a reason she couldn’t explain. Perhaps because this room felt deeply personal? That the person who had set it up had taken time to organize it just right?

She stayed just long enough to tuck a gun under some soft yarn before she left. Each room needed at least one weapon hidden in it.


“Why would you ever need this in my stash?” Tony complained, shoving the gun into her hands. “You can use literally anything in there as a weapon. The straight needles can be used to stab people and the circular needles can be used as garrotes. My double-pointed needles can be used in close combat. And if your attacker is allergic to wool, he’s gonna be in for a bad time.”

Keep reading

My Favorite Person [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: My Favorite Person
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: by the lovely @rinzix
Summary: College!Friends with benefits | You’re thankful to have a friend like Connor, for more reasons than one, but you’re fun may soon be coming to an end, and Connor isn’t feeling like himself
Warnings: mentions of sex | Connor has a potty mouth | mentions of mental health relapses and recovery | brief allusions to domestic violence | first person reader
A/N: This was such a wonderful, fun prompt and it reeaallly got away from me, so I apologize in advance. Essentially, the summary is I will probably never let Connor Murphy be happy. As always, it’s really rushed and I didn’t proof read. Enjoy?


It never starts the way I expect it to.

Don’t get me wrong–I’m not complaining. It just doesn’t work out the way it does in the movies, ya know? I’ve never gotten a text at eleven pm asking me to sneak across the campus to his conviently empty dorm room, never received anything remotely similar to a booty call. It started on accident, like everything else Connor Murphy does. He doesn’t understand the sort of pull he has on people.

Connor Murphy was an absolute octopus, first off. I woke up early–much earlier than he ever would–underneath a pile of pale, lithe limbs that seemed to tangle around me in a number of places. I was sticky–definitely sweaty from sleeping too close to Connor, who apparently fell asleep on top of me like some kind of animal, but I also felt an uncomfortable squish between my thighs that reminded me of the drastic turn of events that happened last night.

To be perfectly clear, this wasn’t the first time we had done this. The first time had been planned–an accidental mishap that had spiraled out of control, beginning with texts (“Hey, would you mind to model for a piece I’m working on? I can’t find any decent reference poses online.”) and ended with some not so appropriate banter (“Are we sexting? Is this sexting? I mean I’m horny but like it’s gotta be smoother than this, right? Shit, do you have nudes??) that had snowballed into an agreement: we could fool around, platonically, because being in college and being ridiculously horny all the time and balancing a decent relationship was one thing too many.

Still, our first few times had been planned: I’d come over for pizza when Connor’s roommate was out, we’d play video games and watch a movie, and, at some point, Connor would lean over with little to no warning and kiss me much too roughly, taking me off guard–it usually either dissolved into a fit of giggles or ended up with me on my back staring up at the smooth column of his throat, watching his pale adams apple dip briefly as he groaned into my hair.

The sun was up, shining obnoxiously through Connor’s too thin quilted curtains, filtering across our tangled bodies. My shirt was still on, thankfully–I had no idea when his roommate would be back–but Connor was entirely nude (save for a pair of tie-dye tube socks, I can’t believe I slept with him while he was wearing that), sprawled on top of me, all pale skin and angles. From here, I could see the knobs of his spine pressing against the thin, pale skin of his back where my hand rested. One of his hands was fisted tightly in the fabric of my shirt, just over my stomach, and the other was dangling off the edge of the  bed, his thin wrist almost comically looking as if it would snap.

The smell of him was overwhelming, of course, it always was. I could still taste him if I ran my tongue across the backs of my teeth. I’d need a long shower to scrub away the smell if I wanted to think coherently today–Connor was definitely my favorite person, the only real  friend I’d made at school so far, but the very smell of him was going to make my brain short circuit.

We needed to have a discussion, needed to stop doing this every time we hang out. A limit. I sighed, remembering. We were going to have to have a talk anyway.

Reaching up gingerly, I ran my fingers against the knots on his back, tracing the triangles of his scapula and cupping the back of neck to run my fingers through the curls. His hair needed washed, badly, but I didn’t mind, just continued to soothe, feeling him sigh in his sleep against my neck. I grinned, feeling his nose press more firmly against the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

“Why are you awake?” He slurred, lips wet where they brushed my skin. His limbs went taunt, stretching before rolling over off of me, his arms slinging against his eyes.

“Ugh, can you cover up?” I groaned, sitting up and pulling a blanket to pool in my lap, trying to look anywhere but Connor. “It’s daylight now, it’s too vivid.”

He just chuckled, running his hands to scrub at his face in an attempt to wake up, pushing tangled curls out of his eyes, grinning at me. “Sorry, geez. Didn’t hear you complaining last night.” Nonetheless, he yanked the blanket over his lap, rolling over to look at me with a smirk.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked, tapping my forehead with his thumb, before leaning over to kiss me there. He didn’t move away, just hovered over me on an elbow, and surrounded by his scent left me vaguely dizzy. I’d miss it when I left here, I knew.

I scrunched my nose, letting him know that the affection was unnecessary, but he kept leaning over, pressing another kiss to my temple.

“I don’t remember,” I sighed honestly. “You kinda kept me up till two am.”

“What time is it now?”

“One.”

“Christ, sorry,” he laughed, sitting up immediately and pushing his hair back. “Guess I tired you out, huh?”

“Don’t get cocky. We were talking until twelve thirty, you only last half an hour, bucko,” I said, crawling quickly out of the bed and tugging on my panties.

“Ouch! Didn’t hear you complaining,” he chuckled, pulling his hair back into a ponytail holder. He was planning to let me shower first, then.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, and I could tell that was the end of the discussion. We had a habit of skirting the topic during the daylight hours–if we talked about it, then we thought about it, and if we thought about it, then–well, you get the picture. “I’m gonna shower.”

——

By the time I’m out, my hair combed in wet strands sticking to the back of my neck and dressed in a clear pair of panties and one of Connor’s bigger shirts, Connor is sprawled on the bed, fully dressed, staring at a worn copy of T.S. Eliot poems, the green cloth binding fraying between his lithe fingers. The steam from the shower followed me in the room, making it look like a hazy 1970s Polaroid, accompanied by the warm light trying desperately to filter into the room through Connor’s quilted curtains.

He’s brushed his hair, I noticed, and there’s a lingering scent of cologne in an attempt to mask the smell of him–of us, if I’m being entirely honest–without showering. I nearly snorted aloud when I saw what he was wearing.

“That’s my shirt, you know,” I choked out between laughter, unable to believe that Connor fucking Murphy is wearing my tie dye crop top with a pair of ratty grey sweatpants. It was big on him, with a little pink embroidered heart stitched messily over the chest. The sweatpants rode high on his square hips, so all I could see was the slope of his ribs into the flat plain of his stomach, his belly button barely peaking out over the elastic waistband of his boxers, which rode a little higher than the sweats.

He looked up from the book, grinning lethargically, letting me know he was still barely awake. I probably should’ve let him sleep longer, but I needed to leave soon, and I wanted to tell him goodbye.

“I know,” he sighed lazily. “You left it here last time. It’s really soft.”

I bit back my smile, crossing the room to sit beside him. “Fair enough,” I conceded, tucking back a piece of hair that was beginning to slip from his ponytail.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he pointed out, pouting his bottom lip.

“I forgot to bring a clean one,” I lied.

“You know you have extras here,” he said, suddenly frowning and returning to his book. I paused, unsure what had caused the sudden mood shift, and wanted to be careful moving forward in the conversation. “I mean, you can always borrow mine, I don’t care or anything–”

“You don’t want anyone to see me wearing it, I get it, I’ll switch back before I leave,” I said reassuringly, scooting away half an inch to give him space. It was easy to overload Connor–it wasn’t his fault, I really did understand. Sometimes social interaction was too much, especially when I’d spent almost twenty four hours with him, and we’d been so intimate.

“Fuck, I don’t care about that,” he hissed, flipping the pages of his book much too rapidly to be actually reading them. “Do you care about that?”

The second statement was shorter, softer, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear. It made me nervous–Connor had been doing better, a lot better. Throwing himself into school, into art, made him better. He wasn’t recovered–it was hard to tell if he ever would be, and I’d only ever seen a few of his episodes, but any form of relapse that I couldn’t help him control was unwanted.

“Of course I don’t care, Con,” I said softly, reaching up to soothe his hair softly, feeling him stiffen and relax beneath my fingertips. “Jeez, we’re in college. I couldn’t care less what people think.”

He nodded, eyes creased before closing, his lips pressed together in a frown. “Right, right, you’re right, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I muttered, feeling nervous. He certainly wasn’t in any mood to hear my news. Something was on his mind. “You good?”

“Huh? Yeah! Great, don’t sweat it!” He some how managed to morph his deer in the headlights expression into one of enthusiasm.  It was more than concerning, and I hadn’t noticed when he’d developed the ability to swallow back his feelings. I didn’t know why he felt like he needed to. “What’s the plan for today, kiddo? There’s a Clark Gable marathon on TCM tonight, I know you like that black and white crap.”

Shit. I swallowed thickly, realizing I needed to tell him, and now. I was hoping it would wait until at least after we had food in us, or at least until Connor was awake enough to reign in his emotions and think with a level head.

“When’s your roommate getting back?” I asked instead, scratching at the back of my neck and not meeting his gaze. I felt him squint angrily at me, aware of my avoidance. “Don’t want him to walk in on anything unseemly,” I laughed.

Connor was still watching me, I felt it, with a pinched, calculated expression. “We don’t have to fool around tonight,” he said softly. “We can just hang.”

His voice was that soft, melancholy tone again that made my heart constrict. He wasn’t feeling good, I realized. He clearly thought that I was upset with him–I wasn’t, but I realized with a jolt that my news certainly wasn’t going to help his sudden self conscious streak.

I shifted on the bed again, feeling his eyes on me as I delayed, and I could practically see his inner turmoil. I should stay here with him. He wasn’t doing well. But, I’d promised….

“Um,” I mumbled, pushing back my wet hair with my hand. “About that. I, uh, have plans for tonight.”

His eyebrows took a quick hike into his hairline, his slate eyes wide, before he horrified me by neutralizing his expression again before I could read him properly–he gave me a small smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh,” he said hoarsely. “That’s chill. You could’ve just told me that.”

I smiled gratefully back at him, reaching out to rest my hand on his knee. “You’re sure?” I asked softly, tracing a pattern out on the grey cotton knee of the sweatpants. He swatted my hand away, and I felt a sudden dip in my stomach. He was upset.

“Yes, geez,” he grumbled. “I am perfectly capable to spend a day without you, you know. I probably need to check in with my folks, anyway.”

“You’re sure?” I asked again, leaning back, a bit more skeptical. Connor saying he wanted to check in with his parents was the boldest lie I’d heard in a long time.

“Yes, Christ, shut it,” he hissed, flopping onto his back, the crop top riding comically up on his stomach, and, without thinking, I leaned forward quickly to press a wet kiss to the cluster of freckles on his ribcage, earning a loud swear from Connor, followed by a slew of giggles, his thin hands pushing at my hair to pull me away from his ticklish sides.

“Stop it! Stop! Christ–st–” he sat up abruptly and tangled his hands into my hair, yanking me down against him, his bare chest trapped between us, soft against my palms.

What had started as a gentle joke, just a silly peck, escalated as it tended to. It was slow–Connor’s laughter dying quickly in his chest, his breath hitching in the back of his throat instead. I opened my eyes to glance down at him, his eyes closed, his eyelashes flickering against his cheeks. I pulled back, just for a moment, amazed to find his lips parted, head tilted back, obvious that he expected me to move my lips to neck. I just chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“Not this morning, Con,” I whispered, kissing behind his ear.

“Just kissing,” he whispered, letting out a shuddering breath into my hair. Eyes still closed, his hands tightened in my shirt in an attempt to keep me against him.

“You know it won’t stop there,” I laughed. He pouted beneath me.

“But–I’m not wearing a bra. I’m all ready to fool around!” Connor snorted, hands digging harshly into my sides as he laughed.

I smothered my laugh against his jugular, fighting to control my breathing, before pushing myself up against Connor’s chest.

“Not now,” I sighed sadly, giving him a closed mouth kiss against his lips, watching his eyes fade as he chased me for another kiss.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Sorry, my fault.” Throwing a hand over his eyes, he groaned, tangling his fingers in his pretty, pulled back hair.

“Don’t be sorry,” I mumbled.

“Later,” he smiled against his fist, slate eyes staring up at the ceiling with amusement. “Later. Christ, no one told me my libido would get a second wind after fourteen.”

“You’ve always got your hand,” I reminded with a chuckle, rising from the bed to stretch. Distance, I needed distance to think. He wrinkled his nose in disdain.

“Yeah, no thanks, not the same.”

There was a beat of silence, where I caught Connor watching me from the bed, before turning away with a pinched expression. It triggered an oddly sick feeling in my stomach–I shouldn’t feel guilty. I shouldn’t. This was just fun, Connor was just my friend, nothing more.

“So, uh,” he coughed. “What was your plan for tonight?”

I stiffened, turning around to sit on the edge of the bed with my back to him, beginning to braid my hair. The bed dipped suddenly, and Connor’s leg was flush with mine, the other folded behind my back, and Connor’s fingers wove into my wet hair, beginning to plait it silently.

“I have a date.”

His hands stilled, just briefly, and I felt myself relax when his fingers began again. He hadn’t taken a single breath.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Who with?” Cold. Uninterested. I growled low in my throat.

“Not sure. Some guy my mom set me up with–they’re pissed I don’t have a boyfriend, you know,” I reminded, and Connor just grunted in affirmation.

“You have no idea who he is?” Connor groaned in disgust. 

I shrugged. “He goes to school here–I think his name is Jared? He’s a business major. My mom is very impressed.”

Now, Connor really paused, his fingers abandoning the braid to snap his hands down into his lap.

“You know him?” I asked.

“Jared Kleinman?” Connor hissed, not looking at me.

“I think?” I said skeptically, unsure what about this kid had Connor in such a state.

“He’s an ass,” Connor growled. “An absolute asshole, bully, short-stack, scum bag, and you can’t go out with him. You can’t go out with that jerk off, trust me, okay? As your friend, I forbid you.”

I’d been taking everything Connor said seriously up to that point–it took a lot to make Connor that verbose, let alone that enraged–he’d been working on getting better, he really had–but his final statement made my eyes snap open, throwing my body off the bed.

“You forbid me?” I hissed, spinning with a wicked laugh. “I’m not your girlfriend, Connor. You can’t stop me from doing shit, okay?”

His eyes widened–in shock or shame, I wasn’t sure–sliding back up onto the bed. “I didn’t mean, fuck, I’m just trying to look out for you, okay? He’s bad news. He was–fuck, he was such an ass in highschool, okay?”

“And people can’t change, right?” I laughed crudely, watching the muscle twitch in his jaw. I’d pressed a button. Good. His eyebrows furrowed down over his glare, and I saw his hands clench and unclench in his lap. He’d caught my eyes flickering to them, and immediately looked helpless, wiping them on his jeans.

“I’m not having a fit,” he promised. “I’m not gonna hit you, I fucking swear to–”

“I know,” I lied, softening my posture and  looking away from him. “I know, Con. You’re not gonna hurt me again.”

Truth be told, he might. Relapse was easy–I knew, I’d seen it in teaspoon sized doses, whether be him throwing me against the door with too much force or be it a fist coming to connect on the wall behind my head after I gave a particular nasty comment. Connor had never hit me, not hard, but he almost had, and he’d said a few nasty things, broken some things of mine.

We were friends because I trusted him, because I didn’t want to leave him just because this felt hard. But I wouldn’t let Connor talk to me like that again, I’d promised myself. It meant a time out–no sex, no talking, not until he could calmly apologize and talk through what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his eyes–he’d forgotten to paint his nails this week, I noticed, but his wrist had flowering patches of indigo and lavender peppered along his arm like blooming bruises–they were just left over from his last art class Friday. He really needed a shower, I realized.

“Don’t be sorry,” I said again, leaning against the bathroom’s doorjamb in lieu of joining him on the bed. If I sat on the bed, I’d want to touch him, and as much as he deserved reassurance, he didn’t need the positive reinforcement. He had to learn I was a finite fixture. “That Jared kid–he said something to you, right? In school. You didn’t like each other.”

Connor laughed mirthlessly, filling my stomach with lead. “Yeah, you could say that. He’s one of those weasely kids, ya know? With just shitty underhanded comments they get out of Mad magazine. Gets under your skin.”

It was too easy to picture, embarrassingly so, I thought, watching Connor now with his eyes downcast and his mouth pursed, I could still see him, just a year ago, and some punk kid whose comment landed on its mark. He probably sent Connor into fits.

I tried too hard not to picture Connor those nights, crying disgustingly in the shower, banging his head too hard against the tile, replaying over and over in his head what that little shit had said to him.

I didn’t want to go out with him. I hadn’t wanted to to begin with. But, I had to. I’d promised.

“I’m really sorry, Con,” I sighed softly, thunking my head against the doorjamb in punishment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Don’t be,” he laughed bitterly again. “’S over now.” He held his arms open, silently asking me to come back down to him, just to make up. “Just because you’re sucking his cock now–”

He froze, eyes bugging out of his head, staring at something on the ceiling I couldn’t make out from here. My stomach churned uneasily, and the tips of my ears got uncomfortably warm. Connor sat up slowly, bracing himself on his arms, staring at the wall with a horrified expression. He was vaguely green around the collar of my shirt.

“You wanna stop. That’s why you told me. You wanna stop.”

I swallowed thickly. “Con–”

“Christ, kid! What happened to relationships and sex and school are too much? We said–”

“It’s out of my hands!” I gasped, Connor’s glare finally snapping to mine, melting me into the floor. “I don’t want to go out with him–you know my mom expects me to–”

“Fuck, I know, you’re parents want you to be a fucking baby factory with a rich husband, I know, okay?” He groaned, shoving his hands into his hair and dislodging the ponytail holder, his dark hair cascading around his shoulders, his whole expression pinched.

I flinched, shutting my eyes, wishing desperately to be somewhere else. He didn’t mean it, he was angry–it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“It’s just to appease my mom,” I sighed quietly, disgusted to realize how wet and broken my voice sounded. “Just to say I have a boyfriend, to keep her out of my hair. Otherwise she’d be down here every week, and I’d never be able to see you–”

“What if I pretended to be your boyfriend?” He said suddenly, making my gaze snap to his, despite my discomfort. He was staring seriously at me, and I felt sick to realize he was sincere.

“Trust me, Con, you don’t wanna do that.”

To subject him to that kind of scrutiny would be unfair. Connor was my favorite person in the world right now, and, despite coming from a good family, my mother would be less than thrilled to hear I was involved with an art major with a juvenile record.

He snorted. “I know I’m no Jared–”

“Don’t,” I glared. “Don’t. I’m sorry, but yeah, we can’t have sex for awhile, okay?”

“Fuck,” he hissed.

I felt sick–like crying. “I’m sorry if that ruins our friendship for you. I thought you might be able to tolerate spending time with me when I’m not getting you off.”

Connor’s horrified expression let me know he hadn’t actually thought of that, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t known.

“Hey,” he said softly, rolling off the bed to stand, his hands out stretched as if he was scared to spook me. “Hey, that’s not–hey, don’t cry.”

“Fuck off.”

“No,” he growled, coming forward to wrap his arms around me, still wearing that stupid crop top, pressing his face into my neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he murmured, his lips brushing my jaw. “You come first, you always come first. I’d rather have you than sex, you know that, right?”

His fingers scraped under my shirt to press against my skin, pulling me tighter to him, his fingertips tripping with friction.

“I know,” I sighed, going limp against him and wrapping my arms around his neck–it felt nice just to be close. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Fair enough.”

He pulled back, reaching up to cup my face, his fingertips burning where they thumbed my cheeks, wiping away the stray tears. He stared down at me so intently, and I realized he was still scared.

“Before your lame ass date, you wanna get some take out?” He asked with a crooked grin, leaning in to kiss my forehead quickly.

“Fine, but you have to change,” I giggled, pulling away despite his protests to grab my purse from his desk.

“I refuse to change–this color looks too good on me.”

——

“I can’t believe you’re gonna wear one of my shirts on your date with that wank,” Connor groaned, watching me button up one of his shirts over my chest, shaking his head. “He’s gonna try to cop a feel–it’s like he’s grabbing my boob, kid. That’s the worst violation of all.”

I rolled my eyes, brushing my hair back from my forehead. “First off, they’re still my boobs, but I promise I’ll bring the shirt back in mint condition. I doubt I’ll be kissing him tonight.”

Connor grinned around a mouthful of rice–he was cute like that, I realized, cheeks full and eyes crinkled with a smile. His mood had flipped swiftly, thank goodness, despite the fact it had started to pour outside, the sky pitch black despite the fact it was still early in the afternoon.

“Maybe he’ll buy you something nice,” Connor grinned. “I’m sure he’s loaded. If he brings a friend, make sure you hit on him.”

I snorted, but pulled on my slightly dirty skinny jeans anyway. “If he brings his friend on a date, I’m walking out and taking you home for thanksgiving.”

Connor grinned again. “God, that’d be rich.”

Thunder pounded through the room, making Connor’s hair products shake on his desk, causing me to jump back onto the bed to be near Connor.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teased softly, glancing out the window to see the downpour. “Christ, maybe you should stay in tonight. Last thing you need is to be trapped in some shitty French restaurant with mademoiselle rat face.”

“You’re hilarious,” I said bitterly, watching the leaves paste themselves to the window pane. “But, maybe I should reschedule. That’s not a shitty thing to do, right? It looks awful out there.”

“Nah,” Connor said around another mouthful. “Plus, if you do, we can have one last hoorah–okay, you’re right, sorry.”

I just grinned, hitting him lightly upside the head. “You can finish up in the shower, pretty boy.”

He frowned. “Fine.”

I pursed my lips, glaring out into the storm again. “I should call Jared ask him to reschedule,” I sighed again, feeling only vaguely guilty. I mean, what were the odds Jared even wanted to go on this date? Our parents set us up, for goodness’ sake.

I wondered briefly if Connor had worn this shirt in highschool, if Jared would recognize it.

“I highly recommend standing him up,” Connor said chipperly. “Allow me to hand you your phone–”

Connor froze, still half stretched across the bed, staring at my phone on the nightstand.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” I asked, concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh my God,” Connor said again, this time dissolving into a fit of giggles, yanking my phone off the charger and throwing it on the bed. “I can’t believe this!”

“Connor, if you don’t tell me–”

“He stood you up!”

“What?” I screeched, fumbling for my phone, surprised to see a few missed texts on my home screen.

From: Jared
To: Me

Srry 4 the short notice, do you think we coukd meet some other time? Don’t wanna get caught in the strom

“He can’t even spell,” I muttered in disgust, throwing my phone onto Connor’s bare stomach that shook with laughter.

“This is hilarious, oh my God. It’s so sad, you look so cute and everything! You were gonna put on mascara for that asshole!”

“I’m gonna dump this soy sauce on your shirt, Murphy.”

“Sorry, sorry, geez!”

He put down his plastic fork, reaching across the mattress to stroke his hand across my bare arm. For a minute, I thought he might ask me how I felt, but instead just asked, “Are you up for a round of Battlefront?”

I grinned, beginning to undo pearline buttons of Connor’s nice navy shirt. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips cracking with the force of his smile. “I look forward to it.”

Ok two things:

1. You can’t tell me percy didn’t dye his hair blue
2. I don’t know how to paint dyed her

one more thing: I’m going to be doing a lot of this bc 1) the art is SOOO good 2) I need to practice shading/coloring methods and I’m actually too lazy to draw LMAO

lineart by @bibinella

#pjocoloringbookproject