#Thief Duo (Ask)

[personishfive]

hi pls talk more about mona im so curious and id like to see the take of another genuine morgana enjoyer

i really like mona. it's like. well. he's a little guy...!!!

he does the whole "non human party member discovers their place in the world/with their friends" thing that the series has done before (though he's not teddie and he's definitely not aigis!) but goes hard every time.

it's neat that in a game that's so much about outcasts we have morgana who is literally a cat (or appears as one at least) who most people can't understand who doesn't even know what his own deal is. i haven't gotten to that one part of the game yet in my replay where they discuss this so no screenshots but you know what i mean!! he's like i don't fit in with you guys... and they're like bud you definitely do! (i believe this is the post-madarame hot pot scene)

the pipeline of being like hmph well im just using you that's all -> i wanna stay! this is where i belong! is cute also. maybe the real best friend is the cat we carried in our bag everywhere we met along the way

(also i don't blame ppl for being annoyed with the "lady ann" thing (persona is really weird about women!!) but it's always read as like. a silly little-brother type crush. to me. and also a joke on the whole "she's cat themed" thing. it's kind of lame/silly but shrug. bro marinated in the collective unconscious for too long so now he thinks a proper gentleman thief means having a lady friend. lmao)

also guys... he's the embodiment of humanity's hope... i feel like we as a society always forget that part. like. wow... he rules in the yaldabaoth fight! he rules a lot! <- i have no structured thoughts on this point it's just very much a thing

also he's just really cute :)

um. mona gender screenshots to finish this off LOL

[silntstrikr]

Anonymous asked: Have either of you made food for Lance? How did your dad like it?

— ✿ "I made dad soup one time. I accidently added too much peppers and made it too spicy for him. Even though I was upset, he still praised me for trying my best...”

— ⚡ "I baked dad some cookies and I have never seen someone eat a whole tray so fast!!”

[ajdrawshq]

hi . i (mostly) finished the game. if u couldnt tell

[leth-writes]

Yandere! Batfam x reader

Tried a different format for part 3.

You ran, down the hallway and thundered down the stairwell, sneakered feet slapping against the harsh concrete. You could hear Tim giving chase, racing after you. Yet, you didn’t stop. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be soulbound to someone you stole from, let alone someone who was threatening you right before you found out! You just knew that it would be an unpleasant experience, especially considering the animosity his family no doubt had for you. You burst out into the lobby, Tim close behind, and skidded to a stop. There, standing directly in front of you, was Jason Todd.

He was leaning against the wooden, warped table, leather jacket unzipped to expose his tight muscle shirt. His hair, complete with the little tuft of white at the front, was expertly styled to look perfectly messy. You had to admit he was cute, even if he was part of the now duo threatening your peaceful, if stressful, experience. His eyes flicked up from where they had been staring at his phone, which looked tiny in his hand, then widened in shock as yet another bond snapped into place in your chest. Your ring finger’s string, thick and jagged, now glowed a blood red, leading directly to his now slack hand. You stood halfway between the door to the stairs and the door outside, with Tim now standing just behind you and to your left.

“You feel it too?” Tim asked his brother, jerking his chin in your direction. His dark hair was mussed from the chase, though he remained poised, with not a bead of sweat on his forehead. You turned to face Jason fully, warily taking a step away from both of them, inadvertently putting yourself in a corner.

“Yeah. She our thief?” Jason murmured, eyes still locked on your own. You averted your gaze at the reminder of your actions. Shit. Of course, even when you met your soulfamily, you had to mess it up by stealing from them! You wouldn’t blame them if they rejected you completely and asked you to stay far away from them.

Tim nodded in response to his brother, stepping closer to where you now stood cornered. Jason loomed in the background, now texting and periodically lifting his gaze as if to check you were still present. “We aren’t mad. We just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting too… cocky. I mean, at first Bruce was ecstatic that someone was savvy enough to take some money. Work on uncorrupting the relief funds is slow going, you know? But this month you took so much that he was sure you were moving from relief to scamming.” He explained, hands raised as if to calm you.

“Listen. I’m sorry, I just needed enough to help cover rent for the building. Our new landlord hiked the rent up and no one can get jobs and we’ve all been so stressed…” You found yourself slightly tearing up. Jason clicked his tongue, pocketing his phone and striding forward to place an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge. Why don’t we head to a cafe and you can tell us all about your new landlord?” he moved you forward with his arm, waving lazily at Tim in a gesture to follow. 

“Jason, we need to head back to the manor. If anyone spots her, it could put her at risk-” Tim started, looking irritated. “We’ll just go out for some coffee and get an explanation. We need to sort out the landlord situation, even if they won’t be living here anymore.” Jason interrupted, once again waving lazily. He seemed quite relaxed, a direct contrast to Tim’s tightly wound posture. “Wait- no! I’m sorry for stealing but I can’t leave my apartment!” You burst out, pulling away.

“You don’t need to apologize. Not like Bruce is missing a couple thousand. He’s got more than enough to be set for life. Let’s go chat at the cafe, I’ll buy you a bagel; you look hungry and you didn’t get to bring your groceries in.” Jason tugged at your arm, marching you forward as Tim rushed to walk next to the two of you.

You didn’t miss the implication that they had been watching you and were aware of your actions that day, but knowing they had been aware of you since the beginning, it no longer surprised you. You supposed that going to the local cafe, indulging in a treat you hadn’t had since long before you been working at that convenience store all those months ago, wouldn’t be too bad.

Not running was your third mistake.

[yup-thats-me]

—houses and homes • N. Kento

pairing: Nanami Kento x wife!reader

summary: Nanami's son wonders the difference between a house and a home.

“Dad, what’s the difference between a house and a home?” The five-year-old boy asked his father as the duo walked towards their car from the grocery store.

For a minute, Nanami looked at his son with surprise. “Where did you learn that from, kiddo?”

The boy skipped along his path, replying nonchalantly. “Well, I have heard people say ���My house is big,’ but not ‘My home is big’. Just wondering.”

Nanami patted the boy’s hair lovingly. The two got into the car and while he was putting the seat belt over his son, a thought made him smile to himself. Kids sure grow up fast, don’t they? It only seems like yesterday that Nanami met the boy’s mother, Y/n while he was returning from his corporate job and had helped her to catch the thief who was running away with her purse.

But now that he looks back at it, he did not need to help Y/n at all. She had the situation well under control with the way she threw her high heel at the thief like the badass she is. Nonetheless, Nanami is grateful that he had punched the dude and got Y/n’s purse and heel for her. It was for that that Y/n asked him for a friendly date as a payback. But after that day, Kento was not able to get Y/n out of his mind for weeks. When he finally saw her buying some flowers near his workplace, he had asked for her to a formal date and got her number.

Looking back, it's been over eight years and the two are still going strong. After being together for three years, Kento realized he had to give Y/n his last name or he would die, and he did make Y/n L/n to Y/n L/n Nanami. That was the best day of his life, the second being the birth of his darling boy.

While driving, Nanami pointed out several houses on the street. Some big, some small, some mansions and so far and so on. “Those are houses, my boy,” Nanami said as he parked in the parking lot in front of their house. Nanami opened the door, setting the bags on the table. The boy helped too to carry some less heavy bags.

The two then made their way to the boy’s parent’s room where Y/n was laying on their bed, using her phone.. Upon hearing the door open, she set the device down and opened her arms inviting the two warmly for an embrace.

With a smile, Nanami came forward but not before their son who seized his father’s opportunity and nestled between his parents. Y/n giggled at her son’s action before placing a kiss on Nanami’s lips.

“And this, is a home.” Nanami whispered to his son softly.

do not copy, steal or translate my work to any other site. all rights reserved to yup-thats-me on tumblr

[arieswritez]

golden boy

golden boy | yandere stepbrother!mark grayson x afab!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!! pseudo-incest, panty thief!mark, roofies, victim blaming, non-con video taping, voyeurism, rape, reader's anatomy is sexualized, forced breeding, time skip (mark is an adult & nolan never killed the guardians), mark is a sicko you've been warned

about; life was easier when mark was an only child. he wishes it would've stayed that way. (1.9k words)

a/n; an anon asked about a platonic yan sibling duo so i raise you: big pervy step bro who hates your guts but also wants to rearrange them

step brother mark who's used to being the light and joy of the grayson home. as the only child, he's spoiled beyond belief. he's spunky and cute and the graysons love him to death, constantly showering him with love and adoration.

step brother mark who gets a new sibling after villains make you an orphan. nolan finds you in the ruins and it's like he's on auto-pilot: carrying you to that secret hospital and handing you off to the doctors that rush to his aid. . but not before your tiny fist closes in his suit.

as he watches you being taken away, barely alive, something inside his chest pangs.

debbie notices nolan acting strange. he's restless and he's late for dinner, more so than usual. something's very clearly wrong. and it's not like her to grow suspicious of nolan but she does.

nolan's never given her a reason to believe his head may have been turned but for some reason, she starts to believe there might be someone else.

only to find he's been visiting you at the hospital, staying at your bedside for hours on end as you recover. you're in bad shape. doctors aren't sure how you survived. . if you even will. debbie's never seen nolan so torn over a survivor before. he's seen many things: deaths, disasters, you name it. yet, you're who's causing the sleepless nights.

of course, debbie has a kind heart and, soon, it's not just nolan who's worried. the graysons keep tabs on you. and when you come to, they’re the first thing you see.

you look confused, scared, but as nolan soothes you, you offer a meek smile and nolan finds himself feeling that same giddiness he felt when he first saw a tiny mark cradled in debbie's arms.

the graysons become your legal guardians and, suddenly, mark isn't the golden boy anymore.

you take up so much of their attention. now, christmases and birthdays all revolve around you. suddenly, marks good grades and the fact he hit a home run isn't all that impressive. mark's late for his baseball practice and games more times than he can count. . yet they never miss your dance recitals.

you got an A in an absurdly easy class and that was a cause for celebration. in the meantime, mark won a spelling bee & all he got was a 'good job'.

they treat you like you're made of glass, like you'll shatter into a million tiny pieces the second someone so much as looks at you the wrong way. mark still remembers being reprimanded whenever he said the smallest things to you. he doesn't think he's ever lived down that one orphanage joke that made you bawl. god, he was just kidding. . its not his fault you're sensitive.

soon, you're calling his parents 'mom and dad'. and worse of all, they reiterate the fact that you should be calling mark your 'big brother'.

fucking fantastic.

you are everything to them while mark is pushed aside. and it only worsens the older the two of you get. mark gets his powers - there's literally nothing more impressive than that - yet he still has to do a million and one things in order to outshine you. nothing ever works. and despite the fact that mark is - quite literally - saving lives. . your stupid birthday is still more important.

you are the light of their lives and mark bitterly remembers when they used to look at him that way, too.

you are perfect in their eyes. just like he once was.

and mark wishes you would've died in that accident, just like your parent(s).

as you start to develop a sense of self, mark gets into the habit of stealing your clothes. it's the only thing you seem to care about: the way you present yourself to the world.

they're small things at first. like a single shoe when his parents had bought you new ones yet refused to get him the ones he wanted. he'll admit it, it was petty and spiteful. but you were distressed and the graysons seemed upset you'd already misplaced your brand new - expensive - shoes.

at first, he was content with telling himself that what he was doing was solely to spite you. but that was a lie. when his kleptomania made him steal one of your shirts. . it wasn't spite that made him press the material to his nose and pump his cock until he came. no, it wasn't just spite.

all your simpering and whining, following him around like some lost puppy, that one time you asked him why he hated you so much. . it made him feel more than just hate.

he didn't know what to do with you then.

so, at first, he settled with stealing your clothes.

a couple more shirts.

a pair of shorts.

knee-highs or your favorite tights.

and finally, a pair of panties.

his favorite are a lacy pair. sheer and tiny, he recalls lifting them out of your drawer with a finger. . and thinking, seriously? what're these even meant to cover?

he's extremely sure you aren't supposed to have these~

mark is content with secretly stealing your things. he doesn't get in trouble for being mean to you anymore.

you don't think he hates you.

it's a win-win situation, really.

and mark would've been happy - he would've been fine - with the little game he's been playing. soon, the two of you would part ways for college and he'd forget all about you.

he'd forget the way you'd foolishly walk to your room in only a towel when you knew the two of you were home alone.

he'd forget the way you looked when you changed out of clothing, you never truly believed in fully closing the door, did you?

he'd forget the way your moans sounded, when you touched yourself at night, thinking everyone else was asleep. he'd forget the way he'd concentrate on hearing your pretty sounds - and it's not like he'd have to try hard, another perk of having powers.

he'd forget about how he could almost envision you: humping your fingers and biting at your lip, desperately trying to get yourself off. it was like he was in the room with you. . you were so wet he could hear the wet clicks of your cunt.

he'd forget all about you.

you, you, you.

he was sure of it.

but if it's one thing about you is that you could never just let things be.

you could never just let the graysons be a normal, happy family.

and you could never just let mark forget about you.

because the first time his parents say no to you - the very first fucking time - you don't listen.

you're just not used to it.

that stupid party you weren't supposed to go to.

that stupid party mark sneaks off to, too.

and when you see him there, you're surprised.

he pretends to be, too.

because it's not fair if only one of you was forbidden to go. no, you had to fuck it up for the both of them.

it's a good thing you're so spoiled, though. and it's even better that mark eavesdropped on the conversation you had with your friend, the one in which you planned to sneak out.

you're so fucking naive. so stupid.

you think the two of you are finally getting along when he gets you a drink and whispers, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't. and you laugh and wink at him like you'll keep his secret, drinking from whatever concoction he's prepared for you.

you were too young when your parent(s) passed and the graysons never seemed to sit you down for the talk. . or maybe they did and you were just too stupid to understand why you should never accept an open drink.

it's easy to blame it on you being a lightweight. the way you sway and slur your words, the way you stumble into him, the way your body overheats.

you've had too much to drink. you're not used to it, is all. he'll take care of you, don't you worry, big brother always does.

first, he's got to lay you down, you poor thing.

he doesn't want you to hurt your pretty little head by falling!

so, he lays you down in the empty room of the house as the party continues downstairs. as you fall to the bed in a heap, you swear you can see the throbbing beat of the music, now muffled behind the closed door.

in the dark room, the moonlight leaking through the pale blue blinds look like drunken undulations, wavering like heat shimmers, yet you can't keep your eyes open long enough to ogle at them. your body doesn't feel like your own, but you're not as nervous as you should be.

mark yanks his shirt off over his head - practiced, ready - and stalks over to your semi-limp body that's nearly hanging off the bed.

it's not hard to undress you, considering you're dressed like some cheap slut. and, honestly, if it wasn't mark that night, he's sure it would've been another dude at the party. the way you're such a fucking tease, he doesn't think anyone would be able to keep their hands off of you for long.

so, really, it's only fair your older brother is the one to get his hands on the goods, first. afterall, he was there to watch them grow.

the little camcorder he took from his parents - the old silver one they used to record all their trips around the world, mark's first steps, your first birthday with them - blinks red, on and off, on and off, as he strips you. he makes sure to capture your body: your bare tits as your chest rises and falls with each panicked breath, the smooth skin of your tummy, then down, between your legs, as he records your sopping cunt taking his fingers.

you mewl and your vision's swimming. and you feel here, there, everywhere, and it's so, so confusing.

you don't know what's happening and it's distressing because you know something is.

your hands weakly try to push at the foreign body on top of you. . inside of you. . but mark is stronger than anyone will ever be and you are far too drugged to do anything about it.

they're gonna be so mad, mark thinks, as he slides into you and tries to keep the camera recording the way your cunt grips him as he feeds his cock inside of you.

they'll be so mad when they find out you've snuck out.

and maybe you'll tell them. . you think something happened. . someone did something to you. . when you try to wash his cum out of your pussy.

maybe you won't. maybe you shouldn't. they'll already be mad at you, best keep quiet about it~

but the graysons will feel even worse in the next few months. . when you start puking your guts out.

and like the perfect parents they are, they'll take you to a doctor. . only for the results to come back positive.

mark may not be a golden boy, anymore.

but in nine months, maybe you'll give him one, instead 💗

[brucewaynehater101]

https://www.tumblr.com/brucewaynehater101/754008565338013696?source=share

I present to you like a cat with a dead bird, my idea based on this prompt <3 (also its super late I actually forgot this in my notes)

It was hard to notice, but after it's been pointed out, it was even harder not to notice.

He doesn't know what kind of fucked up game the two were doing, but it absolutely fucking sucked.

"Jason." Bruce says casually, unaware of Jason's eyes lingering on Tim as he tenses slightly from where he was seated. After a moment, his shoulders relax again and he continues his video game.

"...what."

Bruce blanks for a moment. He shakes his head. "Sorry, I meant Tim."

Tim turns to look at Bruce, pausing his game. "Yeah, B?"

"Update me on the missing heart case, I need to know how far along you are, I might have new ideas on who the thief is." Tim nods.

"I'll send my files tonight." He turns back to his game and unpauses it. Bruce nods and leaves, and Jason just stares at Tim.

"You're trying to burn me with your glare or something? Do I have something on my back?" Tim remarks.

"You reacted to Bruce calling me. Why?"

Tim pauses the game and looks at him. "Uh, cause he came out of nowhere?"

Jason knows that was a fat lie.

"You never react when Bruce calls Damian or Dick. Just me. Why?" Logically, it could've been a fear thing. However, Jason knows that Robin number three only feared three things. Alfred, parental supervision, and Joker. (which, fair. Who *wasn't* amiright?) So to have the pretender flinch or tense at the mere mention of his name, specifically from *Bruce's* mouth, means something, and it better be good or else he was shooting both of them on the foot.

Tim shakes his head, scoffs, turns his game off and stands up to leave the room. "I don't know what to tell you, Jay. It just happens."

Jason's brow furrows together. "Yeah, but only with *my* name from *his* mouth. The fuck is up with that, birdbrain?"

Tim leaves the room, a loud call of "leave it be, Jason!" following after him.

......

Jason, obviously, does not leave it be. "I wanna know. Why can't I know? Is it some weird game you and B have?"

"Sure, Hood." Another fat lie. Jason's been stalking the duo for a few weeks. Bruce calls Tim 'Jason' even without him, Jason, being present in the room. And Tim, on instinct again, tenses, flinches, looks and freakin *responds*. Pavlov or something. Jason frowns at him.

"You're lying. You're a lying liar who lies, liar." Tim rolls his eyes.

Alfred smiles at the duo as he dries some dishes on the dish rack. "And why, may I ask, is master Timothy a, and I quote, 'a lying liar who lies'?"

Jason pouts at him. "He and B do this weird thing, and it's been buggin' me out, Alf!"

"He's lying, B and I don't do a 'weird thing', *He's* the lying liar who lies." In a moment,

Dick walks in wearing Barbara's barbie crop top. "Why is everyone a liar all of a sudden?" He asks, sitting on the barstool beside them. "Did I miss anything?"

Jason grumbles. "B keeps calling Tim by my name and he keeps responding. Tim's trying to gaslight me into thinking it's not a big deal." And Jason could be daydreaming, but he knows he's not. Alfred just flinched.

Dick hums. "I don't think it's a prank. B wouldn't play along with Tim's pranks, maybe he's growing senile." Dick laughs. Tim laughs with him and Jason stares at Alfred.

"That's what I said!" Tim snorts.

Alfred catches Jason's gaze and looks away. Dick was right. It wasn't a prank.

"Ooh! Actually, Timmy. Babs was working on this new coding system that's meant to prank a few rogues. Wanna work on it with us?" Tim's eyes *sparkle*.

"Yes." He says, breathless. He hops off and leaves the room, Dick following right behind him, excited babbles fading as they move farther away. Alfred continues drying dishes.

"You know."

"I know a lot of things, Master Jason."

"But Alf, you *know*. Why does-"

"Peace very rarely comes to this manor anymore, Master Jason. Perhaps Master Timothy was right. Let the matter pass, lad."

Jason flinches. Alfred never calls him 'lad', not unless it was important. Despite his instincts telling him not to, he lets the matter go.

......

So maybe he *is* a lying liar who lies, because he does not let the matter go.

He may not be as dedicated to the screens as Babs and Tim were, but he knew his way around it a bit. His eyes scan through the years of catalogue, finding anything and everything worth something.

(And thats where this ends cause idk where I was going with this?)

I very much so appreciate a link ^^

Hmm... Let's see...

~~~~

He's not sure what he was expecting to find, but it certainly wasn't hundreds of videos dated and organized. The computer highlights a collection of them as relevant to his search.

With a glance around to check his surroundings, Jason presses play.

Bruce is sitting facing the batcomputer's camera with his head in his hands as his elbows rest on the desk. He drags his palms against his face until he peers dejectedly up at the camera. He's practically mumbling through his fingers as he confesses,"I called him Jason again."

With a sigh, he drops both hands onto the table. "I had promised him I'd stop doing that." His gaze drifts to the side and his lips purse into a frown.

"I just- They're so different. I know that. I do. Those two boys couldn't have been more different if they tried.

Jason would spend hours holded up in the library with a classic in his hands. When asked, he could go on for hours about the greater meaning and plot devices. He could give a lecture on the color of the fucking carpet the author chose.

Tim, on the other hand, I don't even know if he knows which shelf in the Manor's library stores those novels. He'd rather be buried under a pile of metal scraps or files of cold cases.

Where Jason was cocky, Tim is snarky. Where Jason would bristle, Tim deflects. Where Jason's smile was beaming, Tim's is crooked.

They aren't the same... But fuck."

He glances at the camera as his shoulders slump.

"Fuck." He worries his bottom lip between his teeth as his forehead creases in anguish.

"I love Tim like a son. I care about him and worry for him. He means the world to me."

He huffs, his lip twitching upwards in dismayed humor. "And I can't stop failing him. I can't even get his fucking name right."

His nose scrunches in disgust at himself. "I-"

He shakes his head with a scoff. Laying his arms on the chair's armrests, he leans back. "No. There's no excuse. Even if they look the same, even if that look in their eye is the same, the one where they seem to think Batman is some kind of hero, that's no excuse. Tim's his own person. It doesn't matter that I want Jason back. It doesn't matter that I just want my son back."

Bruce's breath hitches as his eyes flutter shut. "Jason won't ever come home. He's not here and he'll never be here again."

The armrests creak under the grip of his hands.

"But Tim's right there, Bruce. I need to get this right."

His eyes open to stare at the camera.

"For Tim."

The video ends.

Jason wouldn't have clicked on it if he knew it was... a video diary? The Bats are nosy and invasive on a good day, but this feels like a major breach of boundaries and privacy. He shouldn't have watched it.

Yet, he doesn't click away.

He's not processing the rest of the video (those are 4am in the bathtub with a bottle of rum kind of realizations), but one thought sticks out to him.

Bruce still calls Tim "Jason." Why?

And Jason should leave. He should exit out of the folder and flee to his apartment. He should buy out a liquor store or smoke through a pack of cigarettes.

He shouldn't be clicking on the next video... But nobody else will tell him. He tried asking them.

Fuck it.

[hotvintagepoll]

Vyjayanthimala and Dilip Kumar (Devdas, Naya Daur, Ganga Jumna)—no propaganda submitted

William Powell and Kay Francis (Jewel Robbery, One Way Passage)—HELLO i suggested william powell and kay francis yesterday but didnt think to include propaganda lol so here is some in case im the only person who submitted them and u have time to throw it in. this prolific duo made seven movies together between 1930 and 1932 and they are the quintessence of pre-code sophistication and witty sensuality to me. their chemistry together is delightful and it's no wonder they were paired up so many times. jewel robbery, which opens with debonair jewel thief william powell commiting the suavest robbery ever complete with offering the shop staff marijuana and just escalates from there, is an especially unhinged classic but doomed shipboard one way passage might be their best.

This is round 1 of a mini Christmas tournament. Each poll lasts for three days. If you'd like to send additional propaganda supporting your favorite hot couple, you can reblog this post with your propaganda added, send it to my asks, or tag me in it. To vote in all the polls, click here. Happy holidays!

[additional sexy propaganda under the cut]

Vyjayanthimala and Dilip Kumar:

William Powell and Kay Francis:

[libraryraccoon]

A Raccoon in Twisted Wonderland ?

Gender : Raccoon

Pronouns : Raccoon

Infos : You're a raccoon. A real raccoon. That's it, that's the story. TW : Rook, bad english, english isn't my first language.

You were a normal raccoon, well normal, you had the power to speak in human language and to be smart.

These were the only powers, the only magic, you had, so imagine your shock when you found yourself at the NRC, the Black Mirror choosing you to be a student.

“BUT I DIDN’T EVEN APPLY ?!” -Raccoon!Reader, when a confused Crowley explained the raccoon situation.

Grim was jealous.

You, a fucking raccoon whose only magic was human language and intelligence, had been chosen but not him ?! Jealousy.

Grim became your rival without being asked, literally trying to be better than you at everything, while you didn't even acknowledge his existence-

You are in Savanaclaw, the only real raccoon there is in Savanaclaw.

When Leona and Ruggie started their plan in Book 2, you knew about it too.

They didn't tell you about it, no, you just had heard everything one day.

"You know this can lead to serious problems ? Like broken limbs ?" -Raccoon!Reader, on Leona's bed.

“Well, the nurse- WTF ARE YOU DOING HERE, FUCKING THIEF ?!” -Leona not having seen you arrive.

He give you money in exchange of your silence.

You are known at the NRC for stealing anything and everything, from money to trash passing by student and teacher files.

You once stole Crowley's file thinking it was Crewel's... You are the only student who knows his age and his true identity (you say nothing in exchange for him turning a blind eye to the illegal things you do).

You didn't know who Malleus was before the NRC, the reason is simple : no one knows anything about magic in your origin little forest. Magic and anything related to it isn't really something animals care about, so you didn't know it before the NRC.

“Oh, child of, uh, raccoon ?” Malleus suggested, confused about what nickname to give you.

"Kits. A raccoon child is a kits." -Raccoon!Reader.

Underrated friendship : Idia & Raccoon!Reader & Ortho.

You were adopted by the Shroud the moment Idia realized that you were not afraid of him and that you saw Ortho as Ortho and not just a robot.

You let them pet you, especially if one of them (most often Idia) is stressed.

You are Idia's support animal and the reason for his occasional attendance at class IRL.

Every class where Idia goes IRL (which is 3 times a month since you've been here) you accompany him and let him caress/pet you.

Imagine the look on all the 3rd years' faces the first time they saw him go to flight class with you that very first time (it was also the first time of all year he go to a class IRL).

Headcanon that you and Rook had some sort of weird alliance that consisted of you giving each other information on all the students.

A scary duo.

Literally the hunter and the supposedly "prey" teaming up was something no one at the NRC expected. Even less that they give each other information about the students.

Crewel is the one who makes your clothes, whether those for classes or those to use in everyday life, because for him it's not because you are a raccoon that you are obliged to have no style.

Lilia 🤝 Raccoon!Reader : playing jokes on students who didn't ask for anything (especially Sebek).

I like to think that Raccoon!Reader would be friends with all the NRC ghosts, and that they would give him free food.

For Overblots where you have to fight, be aware that you will jump on the Overblotter's face each time unexpectedly. No one knows why you do this, not even you. Your only answer is always “instincts”.

And it's not even just with Overblotters, but with everyone who annoys you.

The nurse is fed up with you, that's canon.

The Black Mirror is maybe the only one (with the Shroud brothers) who doesn't regret having you at the NRC.

[mirensiart]

I love your pain sharing AU as much as the next guy (it's a lot, I love it a lot), but do you have any other projects you're working on you want an excuse to talk about? Doesn't even have to be Zelda

aah you’re so sweet 🥹💖 I do have a few original characters that I need to draw more of…..I’m gonna use your ask as a way to show them off a little bit hehe

I haven’t done a lot of world building, but the main characters are a knight named lady ira, an apothecary lady named flora (they’re in lesbians with each other), the bastard prince of the kingdom named ancel and once thief and outlaw but now reformed boy named lowen

✨ THE PLOT ✨

ancel is the youngest prince of the kingdom and also a bastard, the only reason why the king keeps him around is because ancel is the only one of the royal kids who’s adept at magic! this means the royal kids, the queen’s children, really despise him and constantly try to get rid of him (kidnapping/assassins)

Thanks to this, he is often assigned a body guard (babysitter) as a way to protect him of his half siblings and also cause ancel is a menace when it comes to magic and can’t really control it very well, so the guard is also to protect the general public from him lmao

Lady Ira used to be a high ranking knight until she fucked up and was demoted and assigned as ancel’s bodyguard, which she resents as first since she feels her talents are being wasted looking after the king’s bastard

She gets attached cause obviously lmao imagine the “old grumpy man gets attached and adopts a little girl” trope but it’s a lesbian and a little boy lmao

Lady Ira eventually meets Flora thanks to shenanigans involving ancel being poisoned, flora being an apothecary is able to save the boy’s life

Lady ira notices that flora has an X scar on her mouth, turns out flora is cursed! The scar prevents her from speaking, if she speaks the X scar opens up as a wound causing her unbearable pain, it closes back when she keeps silent (clearly someone didn’t want her to speak hehe)

Lady ira offers to help her find a cure for her curse as a way to thank her for saving ancel

So flora + lady ira go on a journey to find someone who can counter the curse, lady ira leaves ancel under the care of one of her trusted knight besties, but the kid is like chaos incarnate and escapes to join up with them since he also wants to help flora out

Lowen gets dragged into all of this, since like, he used to be a thief and a wanted man until lady ira pleaded for him and got him a job in the royal stables, lowen feels indebted to her and also thanks to this job, he found a best friend in ancel

Those two are like, the most chaotic duo ever since lowen enables ancel’s weird antics lmao anyway, ancel grabs his bestie to join in the ✨adventure✨and lowen agrees cause if it means helping lady ira he’s in

So yeah, it’s basically two lesbians and their weird chaotic kids find out flora’s curse is important and pivotal to a conspiracy going on in the kingdom

I do like the doomed yuri trope, so yeah it’s doomed yuri lol ANYWAY have art of the sad lesbians

and here they’re happy but not for long…!

[novankenn]

What If Jaune leaves with Emerald: Pyrrha hates how the departure of Jaune and Emerald causes a strain between her and Cinder's relationship. Hates how every time they're found they manage to slip away; barely at first but now it's like she's chasing rumors, chasing ghosts. Hates how despite being on the run from both Salem's and Ozpin's factions they're enjoying life given any information she's gathered. Most of all Pyrrha hates how she's debating if it's even worth it anymore.

What If...

Pyrrha watched as her lover raged. Lashing out and destroying whatever she could get her hands on. As Cinder trashed the furnishings of the small studio apartment, Pyrrha held a single framed photo in her hands. It caused a pang of jealousy in her heart. It was getting larger and larger, each time their quarry evaded Pyrrha and Cinders hunt.

"That bastard!" Cinder spit and hissed as she used Midnight in its dual swords form to slash apart the mattress. It was completely wanton destruction. "Taking what BELONGED to me! Emerald was MINE!"

Those words twisted a knife of regret that was buried deep in Pyrrha's chest. She looked up from the picture of Jaune and Emerald. A picture showing pure happiness. It was, what Pyrrha guessed was a selfie, but what really hurt... was the positive pregnancy test front and center, and the absolute joy radiating from the pair.

"They look... happy... content." Pyrrha whispered to herself as she watched her own lover act more like a beast than the woman she had fallen in love with over five years ago.

"Again! Again!" Cinder howled, as she cleaved a barely stocked bookshelf. "How? How? HOW?"

Pyrrha wished she could answer Cinder's question, but it was one she also was asking herself. This was the fourth, no fifth time the pair escaped capture. The first couple of times, it was only through Jaune and Emerald using combined tactics of interwoven semblances and the liberal use of non-lethal-grenades that allow their narrow evasions.

Though it wasn't just her and Cinder seeking the duo. Salem's spies pasted on information, that even Ozpin's forces were seeking the pair out. It was almost mind boggling how Jaune and Emerald were evading all attempts to trace and entrap them.

"Pyrrha!" Cinder growled. "Get rid of that trash and let's go!"

Pyrrha sighed. Snapped the frame in her hands, and while Cinder's back was turned, folded the picture, hiding it away in her bodice. Pyrrha moved to the door, as Cinder activated her Maiden empowered semblance and set the shredded mattress smoldering. By the time the partners in crime, reached the roof, and were extracted by bullhead, a fire was already raging in the apartment. Destroying any trace the remained of Emerald and Jaune.

As Cinder paced about the passenger cabin, Pyrrha withdrew the now creased photo, believing Cinder was too distracted to notice. She was wrong.

"What is this!" Cinder growled snatching the photo from Pyrrha's grip. "Why? Why would you keep this? They betrayed us!"

"Give that back." Pyrrha rose from her seat, her emerald eyes flashing with signs of agitation.

"Are you going to do the same? Are you going to run off? Sneak away like a thief in the night?"

"I would..." Pyrrha tried to defend herself.

"You're mine, just like Emerald!" Cinder snarled, while causing the photo to burst into flame between her fingers. "You are MINE!"

"No, I am not!" Pyrrha screamed back at her lover. "You don't own me! I love you, and we are together because you love me! We are not the possessions of each other!"

"really?" Cinder sneered, "Then why are you as desperate as I am, to recover that waste of a huntsman? You want to punish him as much as I do Emerald! You want to prove to him that he is yours!"

"Jaune is not a waste! Just look at what we've accomplished!" Pyrrha snapped. "So what if Beacon fell! Who gives a fuck if Vale was left in chaos!"

"They belong to us!" Cinder snapped back. "They only survived due to our choices in sparing their worthless lives!"

"We have nothing! Everything we've done amounts to nothing, yet these... worthless people evade us and Ozpin's minions at every turn... "Pyrrha countered, "and STILL in every picture seem happy! Content! Fulfilled!"

"It's an illusion, and once I catch them... I will shatter it!"

As Pyrrha looked upon her love. The woman she threw everything away for, continued to rage and snarl like some feral beast, that feeling of regret, grew. remorse was eating at her heart, opening her eyes to what surrounded her. She was feeling empty, even with all the power Salem had promised them. Empty and alone.

Yet Jaune and Emerald, seemed at peace. even as they were hunted across the face of remnant, they in every picture seemed happy. The knife twisted again in her breast. Emerald was with child. She was pregnant with Jaune's child. What would the next phots taunt Pyrrha with, the next time they closed upon the couple? A swollen belly, or worse a fragile bundle cradled lovingly in Emerald's arms, while Jaune beamed with happiness at her shoulder?

Pyrrha looked at Cinder. The woman she had fallen for. The woman she had on many an occasion had been passionately intimate with. but now things felt, empty, cold, and distant between them. Pyrrha had bloomed under Cinder's attention. Her original thoughts echoing the happiness in the found photos. Yet now, that future was feeling... unachievable.

"Was this all worth it?" Pyrrha asked herself, as she looked upon the ashes of the photo scattered about the bullhead's deck. "have I made a mistake?"

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

om gosh just- alister getting into some trouble with some mean people but then, out of no where- a odd looking & powerful Zoroark (Hisuian) comes out to protect them! and they're badass! they got one eye damaged, their body is littered in scars and maybe a arm is missing? they been through some tough stuff but they see Allister as one of their children. and surely, allister has them on their team now? also, what would the other gym leaders think of his new pal?

"How does a kid like him get a gym leader position?"

"It should've been me, I have way better ghost types!"

"And he's always wearing that creepy mask. What's he hiding from us?"

Allister could feel his heart hammering in his chest every minute he was out in public. All he wanted to do was take a quiet walk through the Slumbering Weald and not draw too much attention to himself.

He really didn't want to be seen by anyone right now.

It's already been a bad enough day for him; the last thing he needed were cameras and phones being shoved into his face--he's gotten enough of that during today's interview.

He was asked how he felt about Victor/Gloria defeating him in the championship tournament, and he didn't have a solid answer. He only found himself getting upset over the whole thing again.

Even though Leon always told him to take his defeats in stride..it was still hard.

So he cut the interview short and ran away, making it clear he wanted to be alone without the company of bodyguards.

Why would he need them when he had Pokémon like Gengar? They're the only ones who really understood him. They never gave him weird looks for talking to the dead.

Yet he suddenly began to second-guess his decision, considering he now had no shelter from the comments of passerbys.

They doubted him all because he was the youngest of the gym leaders and wasn't as confident as the rest of them..and it wasn't right. They didn't know him like the others did.

He worked so hard to get to where he is now....not to be heckled and ridiculed for just being a kid.

Luckily, the Slumbering Weald was rather quiet at this hour-

"Use Thief!"

A flash of black and orange suddenly dashed in front of Allister, causing him to help as he stumbled forwards and collapsed to his knees, scraping them hard into the stone. The shock of the surprise attack led to his mask falling off and clattering to the ground.

Before he could reach for it, a Thievul snatched it up in its jaws, darting back to someone who was whistling for it.

He looked up, a hand over his face as he stared at the duo who attacked him: a teenaged trainer boring a smug grin, and their dark type by their side, holding his mask hostage.

And they weren't alone, as another trainer showed up with their Obstagoon, who took the mask from Thievul and wore it on its own face as mockery, laughing.

"You better give that back!" He cried out, horrified and angry. "Y-You two don't know..who you're messing with.."

"I think we already know." The Thievul's trainer sneered cruelly. "You're just a weak little kid. Did you know that you're the most unpopular gym leader in this week's poll?" They waved around their rotomphone

"..I-I don't care about popularity.."

"Pssh. That's a bloody lie if I've ever heard one." Obstagoon's trainer huffed. "Ya really showed your fans how selfish you actually are. Ya wouldn't stick around for autographs and just ran off...how do ya think Leon and the rest of 'em will feel when they hear about that?"

"Stop it..please." Allister begged, his hand grasping Gengar's dusk ball in preparation.

"I doubt they'd want someone like you representin' the-"

"VUL!!"

Out of nowhere, a blast of dark purplish energy careened into Theivul, causing it to slam into the nearest tree and flop to the ground like a ragdoll. Its trainer looked bewildered, confused as to where that shot came from.

Then a blur of white appeared and snatched the mask straight out of Obstagoon's hands, much to its shock as it looked all around...unable to see who it was.

But soon they all heard a spine-chilling howl, spinning their heads to find out that the source was you.

A white Zoroark standing in the fog.

Yet while you certainly looked like one, your hair was drastically different compared to the usual tied-back look of normal Zoroarks. Instead, it appeared as long shaggy wisps with red streaks waving all over the place and covering one of your eyes.

Not only that, but your whole body looked as though it's been through the toughest of battles: scars littered your torso, some patches of fur were entirely missing, and--to Allister's shock and sadness--you only had one arm. The other was nothing more than a stump.

Even so, you weren't backing down as you stalked towards him, the bullies, and their Pokémon, teeth gnashed in anticipation.

Thievul and Obstagoon both took up protective stances, ready to attack on their trainers' commands.

Except..

No commands were uttered for a few long moments, and they looked back to see the sheer horror plastered on each of the humans' faces.

"I-It's...a...a....IT'S A ZOMBIE!!!" Thievul's trainer shrieked, forcing their fox partner back into its ball. "So the rumors are true..y-you really CAN summon the dead!!"

"...huh..?" Allister blinked in immense confusion.

He didn't summon you..

"W-We were just kiddin'. You're great!! You're worthy of wearin' that ghost badge!!" The other stammered, recalling Obstagoon. "We won't bother ya..e-ever again...just...."

They took one look at you, and as you growled lowly, the two trainers screamed and ran away.

"WAAAAAAHHH!!!!"

"DON'T EAT OUR BRAINS!!!"

After their voices faded and Allister watched them disappear for good, he looked back up at you in wonder. No longer was he covering his face, so you could see his eyes practically sparkling.

"They were wrong." He whispered. "You're no zombie. You're...the Hisuian Zoroark I've read about."

Of course you were. He's heard about this variant from what he believed were just myths of the Hisui region that existed long before Sinnoh. From what he knew about them, and judging by your current appearance...the agony you suffered in life was also reflected in your death.

Had he not been a ghost trainer with such a unique connection to the type, he would've thought you were a zombie, too.

As your gaze pierced through his soul, he remained on the ground, feeling as though he got hit by a frozen status effect. He didn't dare to move, knowing that a Hisuian Zoroark's anger was not to be trifled with.

Perhaps you saw him as just another human to take your rage out on.

For you likely held the same grudge as all the others of your kind...

One that was bitter, eternal, and cold as the frost that took your life after you've spent all your energy and hatred in battle; your scars and lost arm were simply the products of you flinging yourself into vicious fights with humans and Pokémon alike--no self-preservation instincts to be found.

Allister had no clue what you were thinking, but as you suddenly crouched down in front of him, he flinched back, arms shielding his face in fear of what you might do.

"Zo...."

"..wh-what..?" Uncovering his face, he was stunned to see something familiar in your grasp being handed over to him:

His own mask.

Of course. He forgot you swiped it from that mean Obstagoon earlier.

Yet he didn't take it back right away, instead looking up at you and seeing nothing but warmth in your eyes. He noticed the one covered by your hair was blind, given the milky look and the deep scar that went through it.

Despite seeing how you've suffered countless hardships, likely endured an agonizing death, and came back out of pure spite and hatred for humans...

You reached deep into your cold, dead heart and rediscovered strength and kindness--both of which you used to protect this young ghost trainer when he needed it most.

You knew he wasn't like those who exiled you.

No.

He was a friend.

He reminded you of all your children back at home: the Zoruas who followed you in life, death, and the after..fearful of what they've become, but feeling safe when you were around.

You couldn't reach them anymore, yet you wanted to protect someone. Anyone.

And you found Allister.

A small sniffle and whimper snapped you out of your thoughts, noticing the tears rolling down the young boy's face. You frowned a little, looking down at the mask.

Was this not his?

"D-Don't worry, I'm....so happy, Z-Zoroark..thank you.." He whispered shakily, smiling as he took it back, putting it on to hide the rest of his tears. "I..d-don't know how you got here, but you saved me. You put those bullies in their place. Nobody takes me seriously as a ghost type gym leader..much less a trainer..but you do, don't you?"

"Ark-ark.." Nodding, your gaze went to the dusk ball clipped to his belt, and you tapped on it with a rugged claw.

At first, he flinched at the sudden motion, before realizing you just wanted to see the pokeball. "Oh, this? I-It's a dusk ball..a version of a pokeball that helps me catch Pokémon at night. Or in caves.." He showed it to you, allowing you to sniff it curiously-

Only to accidentally boop your nose against the button, causing it to open and capture you.

At first Allister panicked, dropping the dusk ball to the ground as he watched it shake several times, scared out of his mind.

A million thoughts were running through his head right now:

Was it going to break?

Were you going to be angry?

Did you want to be captured?

What if-

*click*

'Huh...?' Bewildered, he looked down to see that the accidental catch was successful. And he picked up the dusk ball, opening it and letting you back out, expecting you to be enraged.

Yet..you seemed content.

You looked surprised, sure, but you soon smiled upon seeing him and nodded your head.

Indeed, you wished to become his partner Pokémon.

"O-Okay..I guess you're coming with me from now on." Allister quietly laughed, brimming with joy on the inside. "But first you should meet Gengar. I think..you two will get along well."

"Zor...ark, ark!"

[silntstrikr]

Anonymous asked: What’s it like living with Lance?

— ⚡ "It’s great and so much fun honestly. It’s nice to talk to someone who knows what you’ve been through. Lance is a great listener.”

— ✿ "So relaxing and also chaotic. Dad knows how to make a boring day at home, fun and exciting. I really like when he tell us his old adventures to help us sleep.”

[duckduckquackity]

The whole window thing had been a joke originally. The best time-saving solution was to have the builder himself do it, but said builder and husband was out of commission for a while. Okay, cool.

Now Quackity has to wonder if Slime is actually going to come over under the idea of replacing glass. Quackity, as weird as it sounded, did like Slime’s company. Changing glass though?

Quackity was bad enough on her own. Quackity and Slime were a bit of a messy duo. Asking Slime to replace the glass had been a joke- more of a scheme to hangout. The other might be busy in some way? Maybe? But then that defeats the purpose of all of this. She couldn’t just not replace them though. Last thing she wanted was a thief to get in the house. Not that she had much of value. Luzu maybe, hard maybe.

Pacing in circles in the living room was a rather effective way to avoid shattering a glass pane. All the replacements were laid against the wall as Quackity spent more time debating fixing them over actually fixing them.

[ - @elbackflipo ]

[renthony]

🏳️‍🌈please and thank you

(Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I’ll respond with a queer media recommendation!)

Baker Thief by Claudie Arseneault is an aromantic reinterpretation of the enemies-to-lovers trope, following a cop-and-robber duo in a fantasy setting with witches and magic blended with tech. The story is full of major queer characters, with a strong focus on the aspec characters.

Here's the official plot summary:

Adèle has only one goal: catch the purple-haired thief who broke into her home and stole her exocore, thus proving herself to her new police team. Little does she know, her thief is also the local baker. Claire owns the Croissant-toi, but while her days are filled with pastries and customers, her nights are dedicated to stealing exocores. These new red gems are heralded as the energy of the future, but she knows the truth: they are made of witches’ souls. When her twin—a powerful witch and prime exocore material—disappears, Claire redoubles in her efforts to investigate. She keeps running into Adèle, however, and whether or not she can save her sister might depend on their conflicted, unstable, but deepening relationship.

I was nervous about this one at first, because I'm incredibly critical of stories with queer cops. It's my biggest complaint about the Netflix series Arcane, and it's why I never bothered with B99 or that Pixar movie Onward. I'm familiar with the author's other work and queer advocacy, though, and we've casually interacted on social media. Claudie's awesome, so I was excited to give Baker Thief a shot even though I might have otherwise passed on it. What ultimately made the story work for me is that it explores police corruption and what happens to good people with good intentions who try to change the police force from within. Adèle tires to do the morally correct thing, and it makes other cops target her as an enemy.

I also really loved the worldbuilding in this one. I'm a sucker for magic tech, and fantasy settings where industrial development is happening alongside magic goings-on. I don't see it nearly as often as I want!

Ask For a Rec | Other Media Recommendations | Support Links

[xoxochb]

Your work is absolutely amazing I love it so much, you keep me well fed truly 💝 I always have to many ideas, I just never can turn them into words lol I don’t know why but I think a story about Travis Stoll and a child of Iris would be cool! I subscribe to the school of thought that Hermes kids are good with photography, so that mixed with an Iris kids natural talent with colors or painting seems like a good duo. Also theyre both kids of messenger gods so I find that really nice. how would you feel about a story where the both of them try out the others form of art in some way? Sorry if it’s to vague, never sent a request before 😊 thank you!

⋆·˚ ༘ * the rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color

warnings: none

pairing: travis stoll x daughter of iris

“hi sunshine, what’re you working on?”

you smile and put down your paintbrush on the easel before running to your boyfriend to pull him in for a hug

“travis! I haven’t seen you all day, where have you been?” you pull away, arms still around his neck

“counselor duties, but I’m off for the rest of the day, I wanted to see you” he plants a quick kiss on your lips “have you been painting?”

“yes! how’d you guess?” you laugh

“paint on your cheek” he rubs it off with his thumb

“do you want to see it?” you bit your lip

“of course I do, c’mon” he grabs your hand and you drag him to your easel

“you know that picture of the sunrise you took the other day? I decided to paint it” you smile proudly

“it’s amazing, this is wonderful!” he kisses your cheek

you blush, “thanks, but I need to finish it, you wanna watch?”

“yeah, let’s do it” he sits on the floor beside your stool, which you take a seat on

you pick up the paintbrush and finish up the painting, you had done most of it the previous day, so you only had a few touch ups left, and after about a half an hour you finally finish it

something in you wishes you had more to do on it because you love the way your boyfriend is sitting beside you, his eyes not focused on the painting but on you, and you figure this out when you turn your head to him and he’s looking at you with lovesick eyes

“need something?” you ask, trying to sound mean, but the smile on your face gives you away

“you” he stands up and wraps his arms around your shoulders

“you’re weird. do you like it?” you ask

“I love it” he kisses the top of your head

you sit in silence for a moment, and it’s not the awkward kind of silence, it’s comforting. you wish you could stay like this forever, but when you get an idea you can’t help but share it

“travis?” you speak

“sunshine?” he says

“what if you try painting and I try photographing?” you bend your head back to see him without turning around

he kisses you “I’m not good at painting”

“yes you are! remember that forest picture you did last month? It’s amazing!”

“It was alright…”

“will you do it? for me?” you ask

“I guess I can try”

you squeal and stand up, pulling him in for another hug “I love you thief”

“alright, alright, let’s do it”

- 🌈 -

“which button do I press to take the photo?”

“the red one”

for the past half an hour you’ve been trying to learn all the buttons on the camera, eager to take a decent photo, but unfortunately it’s not that simple

you point the camera in the direction of the pink sky and press down on the red button, which supposedly will take the photo

“oh my gods I did it!” you beam

“let’s see the photo” travis smiles at you

you use your newfound information to find the photo you previously took. once you take a look at it you hand the camera to your boyfriend to show him the picture, “your turn to paint it”

- 🌈 -

“first things first: picking your colors”

“alright I need pink, yellow, white, green, black maybe? brown too I think”

you walk over to the box of paints you have sitting on your bed, and pick up the colors necessary

“now that you have the colors you have to put them on this pallet, then you can start painting!” you explain

“this shouldn’t be that hard…” travis trails off

and with that he starts painting, it’s not exactly a masterpiece but since he’s your boyfriend and you love him you tell him that he’s a professional painter and his work is the best you’ve ever seen

“I told you that you would do great” you say

“it’s alright” he shrugs

“I’ll hang it up above my bed!”

although it’s not the best piece of art you’ve ever seen, it was made with tons of love, and it’s a symbol of your relationship and happy memories, something so comforting to you, so you take your boyfriends painting and pin it to the wall above your bed

it’s something you’ll never take down, and everyday you look forward to seeing the pink painting on your wall