#I'm really proud of how the panelling turned out here!! I'm not usually good at panels you see

[da-janela-lateral]

Looking for answers (or highlights in the way)

[kanerallels]

My story for @sw-olives-and-grapes, which I finished JUST in time last night! It's a little messy and I'm not totally satisfied with the ending, but I hope you guys like it nonetheless!

Read on AO3!

(note for those who don't follow the link: Hera and Kanan's outfits are inspired by pictures I've seen of the Chinese hanfu! Also there are no real content warnings here)

“COME ON GUYS WE’RE GONNA BE LATE!”

“Since when is Ezra the one who wants to be on time?” Caleb Dume muttered, tugging at the collar of his tunic for the thousandth time. His formal Jedi robes might have been right for the occasion, but that didn’t stop them from being more uncomfortable than his usual attire.

Hera’s voice was muffled by the closed door of her room, where she was changing. “Probably since Sabine’s the one doing the fireworks after the ceremony. And he’s grown up more than we give him credit for, dear.”

“Don’t remind me,” Caleb said, sighing and letting the back of his head thump against the wall he was leaning against. “Seems like just yesterday he was falling off of roofs and causing international incidents with Mandalorians. Now he’s well on his way to becoming a Knight.”

As painful as it was to see his Padawan growing up, he was also proud. Ezra had become much wiser and more powerful since Caleb had first met him, and he was growing into a fine Jedi.

“You’ve done a good job of teaching him,” Hera pointed out, her tone knowing— as it always was. It sharpened into something a little more amused as she added, “And as I recall, you had a little something to do with that particular international incident.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Caleb grumbled as Hera’s bedroom door hissed open. “Just leave you and Sabine to— wow.”

Hera lifted an eyebrow at him as she stepped out of the room. “You’re staring, Caleb.”

“I’m not,” Caleb said, staring. “You just… you look really nice.”

Nice didn’t quite sum it up. She was wearing a dress— a simple dark blue undertunic, with a full, fluttering skirt over it. It shaded from blue to a pale silver towards the hem, as did the light blue edged robe she wore over it. The upper half of the tunic had a blue panel, embroidered with silver and darker blue. Similar embroidery marked the hem of the robe.

The colors shimmered against her skin, and the flowing fabric made her look elegant and beautiful and Caleb felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her, like it so often did. 

Judging by the half amused, half embarrassed smile Hera was giving him, he was still staring. Clearing his throat, Caleb said, “I, uh, I assumed you’d be wearing your dress uniform.”

“I was going to,” Hera said wryly. “But somehow, there was a mishap in the laundry, and Ezra turned it an unflattering shade of pink. And then it happened to be out when Sabine was working on getting the fireworks ready, and she set it partially on fire.”

Caleb snorted. “Wow. You’d almost think they were planning something like this.” Knowing Sabine and Ezra’s propensity for mischief, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Especially when he noted how similar the color of his blue and gray robes were to Hera’s dress.

Rolling her eyes, Hera said, “Oh, yeah. That would be such a shock, knowing these two.”

“HERA, CALEB, ZEB’S HERE AND HE’S IMPATIENT TOO,” Ezra yelled from down at the entry bay. “CAN WE JUST GO ALREADY?”

Exchanging an amused look with Hera, Caleb said, “We should probably get going.” Offering her his arm, he asked, “Are you ready?”

Looping her arm through his, Hera replied, “Always, dear.”

Together, they headed down to the entry bay. Ezra was waiting, wearing his own set of formal robes and bouncing up and down on his heels with impatience. Zeb was with him, looking bored and slightly fancier than usual in his Lasat Honor Guard uniform. Chopper was, for once, waiting near them without making trouble, although Kanan had a feeling that wouldn’t last long.

“Finally,” Ezra said, spotting them. “Let’s go! You look really nice, Hera. Uh, sorry about your uniform.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ezra,” Hera assured him. “And you’re right, we should get going. We don’t want to miss Caleb’s ceremony, after all.”

Letting out a groan as they headed down the ramp, Caleb said, “Don’t remind me.”

“What, you’re not looking forward to getting up in front of all those people?” Zeb asked, his grin just a little too wicked. “Getting that award and whatnot?”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Caleb told him. “And it’s not an award, it’s just a ceremony honoring some of the people who fought in the last battles of the war here on Coruscant—”

“Like you,” Ezra said cheerfully. “And Rex— he’s gonna be there, right?”

“I think so— Ahsoka said she wanted someone there to distract her from being bored out of her mind,” Hera said, and Caleb snorted.

“Skywalker’s gonna be there. None of us are going to be bored.”

Together, they made their way to the speeder parked at the edge of the landing platform. As Zeb, Ezra, and Chopper slid into the back seat, Caleb took the front passenger seat, and Hera arranged her skirts neatly around her as she sat in the driver’s seat. Bringing the speeder to life, she moved them forward and into the flow of Coruscanti traffic.

Despite the general nature of traffic on Coruscant, especially in the evening, it wasn’t long before they arrived. Their goal, a small meeting hall in the upper levels, was lit up for the occasion, and surrounded by speeders— most of them piloted by droids dropping off their occupants.

As Hera brought their speeder to a stop nearby, switching it off, Caleb vaulted out and headed around to her side. Offering her a hand, he said, “Can I give you a hand?”

Accepting it, Hera let him help her out of the speeder, remarking, “Such a gentleman.”

“Well, I was raised right,” Caleb said, and behind them, Ezra groaned.

“If you guys are just going to flirt all night, I’m leaving.”

“Come on, Ezra,” came a familiar voice, and Caleb turned to see Ahsoka Tano heading towards them, grinning. She wore a sleeveless black dress with a high collar and a long skirt, her sabers hanging from a belt on either hip. “If you say that, you’ll be gone before they serve the food. Let alone the fireworks.”

“Fair enough,” Ezra said, heaving a long, dramatic sigh. “Guess I’ll just suffer.”

Rolling his eyes, Caleb turned to Ahsoka. “Good to see you— have you seen any of the others, yet?”

“Rex is inside,” she replied. “I came out here to look for you, and the Skywalker-Amidala brood.”

“I have a feeling we’ll hear him coming,” Hera said wryly. “Ezra, Zeb, Chopper, we should probably find our seats. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

Ezra didn’t protest— another sign of how much he’d grown over the years, Caleb mused— just nodded and headed towards the hall, Zeb and Chopper on his heels.

Turning to him, Hera studied him for a moment. “Are you nervous?” she asked, moving forward to smooth down the front of his robes and straighten the sleeves.

Caleb let her. He’d be lying if he said he minded.”Not really,” he said. “Mostly it seems like a big deal over nothing. I didn’t even do that much, and it was years ago.”

“You and I both know it was more than nothing,” Hera pointed out. “There are people here today— Jedi especially, who wouldn’t be here without you.” Checking him over one last time, she added, “If it helps, I’m sure this is far from the only thing you’ll be remembered for.”

“As long as you remember me, that’s all that really mattered,” Caleb told her, which drew a smile across her face. Stepping a little closer, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, and Caleb had to resist the urge to turn it into a proper kiss, to pull her closer still.

Drawing back, Hera smiled at him in the way that said she knew exactly what he was thinking. And I’m supposed to be the Jedi around here. “I’ll be watching in the crowd. Good luck, love.”

And with that, she turned and headed inside, taking most of Caleb’s concentration with her. It was more than a few seconds before he registered Ahsoka calling his name. Glancing at her, startled, he saw her grinning at him. “Way to be subtle, Dume. You’d put Skyguy to shame.”

“Okay, that’s just mean,” Caleb told her as a speeder zipped out of the traffic towards them, coming to a sharp stop that nearly slammed into the side of the landing platform. Caleb was not remotely surprised to recognize Anakin Skywalker in the driver’s seat. He was steering with one hand, smiling easily as he hopped out and moved to assist his wife, Senator Amidala. The senator wore a dress of satiny, dark purple fabric, simply and elegantly cut. The bishop sleeves were a sheer, paler purple, beaded in sparkling patterns. Her hair was twisted up in a mass of braids around her head, strands of gems shimmering in the braids. This provided a sharp contrast to Skywalker himself, who wore simple dark brown and black robes and had his hair cut short.

Two of their children, Luke and Leia, were with them. Leia was dressed in simple but elegant white with her hair pulled back in braids twisted with silver, and Luke wore black, like his father. The blonde boy caught sight of Ahsoka and Caleb and waved as he followed his mother and sister inside. Anakin headed in as well, but not before stopping to chat with a group of men clad in blue and white armor.

“It’ll be good to see Anakin again,” Ahsoka remarked. “He gets so busy with his… mechanic shop that isn’t a front for any kind of vigilante activity.”

“I always forget how subtle your lineage is,” Caleb quipped, lifting an eyebrow at the Togruta Jedi, who rolled her eyes at him.

“You’re not much better yourself. How are you feeling about the ceremony?”

Caleb took a minute before shrugging. “Fine. It seems a little unnecessary to invite me— I mean, I barely did anything. Everyone handling the Chancellor were Jedi Knights at the very least. All I did was talk to one clone trooper at the exact right time.”

“You saved his life, and the lives of others,” Ahsoka pointed out quietly. “Don’t underestimate that.”

“Hm. And then there’s you, who—”

“Showed up fifteen minutes late with Spacebucks?”

“I was going to say who took out a former Sith lord, crashed her ship, and showed up here in time to help me,” Caleb said wryly. “But sure, that too.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Come on, let’s get in there before we get wrangled by some poor event organizer. The sooner it’s done, the sooner we eat.”

“Now you’re speaking my language.”

They headed into the hall, following Skywalker and a few others who were chatting quietly. The antechamber they entered into still held a few people, but Caleb could see most of them had moved into the main body of the hall. It was filling up quickly, and he felt his first twinge of nervousness.

“You’re feeling nervous now, aren’t you?” Ahsoka asked, sounding amused. “I’ve seen you wrangle bloodthirsty mobs— all you have to do now is stand there.”

“I know, I know,” Caleb grumbled. “Unlike you, however, I’ve never done one of these things before. Since, you know, I didn’t actually do all that much.”

“We can have this debate later. Come on, we’re supposed to be backstage.”

Heaving a long sigh, Caleb followed her down a side hall and into a back room, where there were a handful of others. Among them were Skywalker, Masters Tapal, Junda, Fisto, and Windu. The latter of which looked up at their entry, and gave Caleb one of his non-smiles. “Caleb.”

“Master Windu,” Caleb said, smiling at him and giving a respectful bow. “Good to see you.”

Ahsoka gave a brief nod, muttering under her breath, “I still can’t believe you two get along so well.”

“He’s my grand-master, Ahsoka. Besides, the only reason you don’t really get along is because your lineage is full of lunatics.”

“Okay that is not why AT ALL—”

The sound of applause from onstage cut Ahsoka off, and Master Junda said, “That’s our cue. Skywalker, Windu, take the lead?”

The duo exchanged a slightly amused look, and headed out onto the stage together. Caleb, resisting the urge to run a hand through his hair, followed the rest of the Jedi, Ahsoka right behind him.

The stage held only a podium, where Senator Bail Organa stood. Caleb knew the man— not well, but he liked him. Senator Organa gave them an encouraging nod and smile as they lined up behind him on the stage, along with a small crowd of clones. Caleb recognized Rex and Commander Fox, and gave them a quick nod as Senator Organa started speaking.

“Welcome, everyone,” he said, his voice amplified by the microphone. The murmuring crowds quieted down anyway, turning their attention to him. Caleb started looking for Hera as the senator continued.

“I’m glad to see you all here. Today we celebrate the twenty year anniversary of the end of the Clone War. While there were still battles fought with the Separatist remnants after this point, this was the day, twenty years ago, that the Jedi engaged and defeated the Sith Lord who had taken over our Senate, and, with the help of some of our noblest members of the Grand Army of the Republic, retook the Senate building from the troopers under his control.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw Fox shift fractionally, and he held back a wince of sympathy. The commander had been one of the ones Palpatine had been controlling, along with most of his men. He’d nearly been responsible for a lot of lives lost.

“When the Jedi’s valor is mentioned, I find that, far too often, we gloss over the role of the GAR,” Senator Organa continued. “Both those who arrived on site with their generals and those who, once freed from the Chancellor’s control, joined our side. Without the help of men like Commander Fox, our Republic would not be where it is today.”

Caleb couldn’t hold back a grin as he heard raucous cheers coming from the audience, where several armored troopers were pounding their feet against the ground in approval. Senator Organa smiled as well, and waited for silence until he continued.

“The revelation of the Chancellor’s deception and his intention to tear down the Republic, replacing it with his dictatorial Empire, was a shock to everyone. Our trust was shaken, but we kept moving. Life as we knew it was suspended, an interim chancellor was put in place. We turned to the Jedi for help, and they came through as they often do, as did the warriors of the GAR, to whom we owe so much.”

The senator paused, looking somber. “There is much that could be said about this time. About how we finally righted some great wrongs against certain citizens of our Republic, or how we managed to bring the Separatists back. About how we managed to bring a time of peace. That last part is what I would like to focus on tonight, though. 

“Our time of peace was only brought about by working together, by setting aside differences for the greater good. And that, my friends, is something I would like all of you to remember.” Leaning forward, Senator Organa said, “Our greatest times will come when we work together. Not when we are divided by strife or arguments.”

He paused, letting the words sink in, then smiled. “But we didn’t gather here tonight so I could lecture you. We’re here to celebrate— to celebrate those who sacrificed their lives for us and those who are still here. And to celebrate the victory we achieved together. Because together, we’re better.”

As Senator Organa spoke the last words, Caleb finally found Hera in the crowd. She caught his gaze and smiled, and it was like she was the only thing in the galaxy that existed. Together, we’re better, he thought. I’ve never heard something more true in my life. A smile crossed his face.

He barely heard the applause as the senator ended his speech and the crowd rose to their feet. All that mattered was the moment when they moved off the stage, and Hera was with him, catching hold of his hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

Later would come dinner and reuniting with old friends, speeches from other veterans and Jedi and the most incredible fireworks in the galaxy. But all that really mattered were the people at his side now.

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Relationship Snippet Tag

was tagged by @outpost51, thanks!! tagging @drippingmoon, @drabbleitout, @pertinax--loculos, @druidx, and anyone who wants to do this ✌🏽

Rules: Share a few lines or a snippet that sums up the main relationship(s) in your WIP.

As usual I went ham oops.

A few from the Darkspace Portent series, centering Warren and Thrive:

Thriving: Eternal—

"Groundmasters," Thrive said. "The most expendable of the ranks." "The higher-ups must have a lot of faith that you won't obliterate them," Warren said. "Mostly unfounded." Warren snorted and climbed into the shuttle. A silver tendril whipped out and grabbed him by the wrist, the sharp edges digging into his skin, and though he couldn't feel it, Thrive stepped up and separated the limb from the beast's body with an effortless tug. It wailed and slammed itself into the wall as the other two did nothing. Black fluid leaked from its wound and Thrive carefully freed Warren's wrist. The cut wasn't too bad, not compared to every other wound he'd received during his never-ending adventure. It stopped bleeding as soon as Thrive touched it.

Thriving: Meridian—

[Vriea] looked around the comm hub. "Well...we're hanging in there. If you're looking for [Thrive], I can grab him real quick." "No need. Can you run me through to his office?" "Sure...I need to warn you, though, he's not in a good mood. He's just returned from Leviathan." Warren stretched his back. "Great. I'll handle it." Vriea signed off and routed his call to Thrive's office, and after a second he connected on what appeared to be the wall panel beside his desk. He stood at the picture window, staring outside, a deep frown on his face. "Hello, love of my life." Thrive turned his scowl onto the screen.

Centering Guetry and Scotty and his other partners:

Thriving: Aurora (Guetry/Scotty/Mercury)—

"I am now in control of armor and form suit regulation," Scotty said. "Provided I choose not to completely take over autonomy and run a rampage through Torris before fleeing the planet via any one of you, I will monitor your vital signs and administer temperature control." Warren snorted, yanking the lever back on his rifle and setting off the neon stripe on the side. "Guetry, get your boy." "Bad Scotty!" Guetry barked. "If you're gonna take over anyone's body, it's gonna be mine." "That's a visual I really am not proud of having," Mercury groaned.

Thriving: Rebirth (Guetry/Scotty)—

[Guetry] pointed to the empty stretch of space, where the Palace's cloak failed and fell away like the petals of a dead flower. His port eased into a low lavender shine, and he stared as it traveled down his arm tattoo. "I apologize for the delay," Scotty said. "Traffic was heavy." Guetry let out a deep exhale and screwed his eyes shut, the ghost of a smirk crossing his features. "…Feels so good to have you inside me again, Scotty." "You'll just say anything at all, won't you," Warren muttered.

From WASTE:

Guetry and Oren—

[Oren] snickered and leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "Alright. Maybe I deserved that. What's the set for the next gig?" "Don't pretend you give a shit about my music," I laughed, already halfway into loading the beat guitar with loops from our latest tracks. A couple of favorites, actually—ones Alec had put together and got bouncy whenever she played them. "Hey, I'm trying my best, here." A bit of Oren's levity faded and I desired very strongly to see if I could make it disappear altogether. Before I could, though, he leaned toward me and rapped the instrument on my lap with the tip of a finger. "I'm here, and I'm asking, and I'd actually like you to play me something right now." I dropped the tablet onto the couch next to me and folded my arms. "How about instead of doing that, you come see a fucking show? Throw a few slats our way, buy a couple shirts, stop being a goddamn deadbeat for once in your life, Altavian?"

Uh...Guetry and Oren 😬—

I kicked a discarded box over to the couch and perched on it, pipe and bottle in one hand and the other still clutching my gun. I used the edge of the bottle lip to scratch my temple. "I'm so fucking tired of you," I grunted, my hoarse voice breaking an unknown curse of silence. Oren leaned forward, frowning deeply. "Look...you didn't deserve that. I never should've done it." "Did you fuck her in my bed?" "No," Oren said immediately, which meant it was a lie. Fantastic. "I wouldn't do that to you." "Oh, but you'd go behind my back and hurt me like this, no problem!" "Can you blame me though, man?!" Oren bellowed at me. "Whenever I'm with a guy I get to a point where I start craving pussy real bad. You can't provide that for me, so I lose my head a little. I'm weak!" "You're weak?! You're pathetic!" Anger building in my chest again, I got to my feet and punted the box across the room. It smashed through a glass wall and embedded itself into my bedroom door. "Fucking Christ, Altavian!" "Hey, don't lose your head, Guetry. I love you, okay? I'm sorry. It's never gonna happen again." I'd already halted dead in my tracks, frantically dragging from my pipe to erase the path toward a total meltdown from in front of me. "You love me," I muttered. I eyed the shards of glass on the floor, dreading the cleanup. Prickling arced over my face and down my throat. My heart startled against my ribs. "You're fucking trash, dude."

Guetry and Scotty—

You've done more than most, Guetry. How many humans out there are willing to hold children of a different species in their last hours and tell them repeatedly that they are loved? This quality is rare, a precious gem hidden among humankind. You have given your life to protect others. My eyelids pried themselves open, nearly glued shut with a layer of crust, and through a blurry film, right over my head, beneath the dimmed lights of my hospital room, floated a gently spinning ball of glowing neon purple, bigger than my head. It seemed like he was smiling at me, but I couldn't have even told you my name at that point. For all I knew, I'd hallucinated everything. Scotty's mechanical rings rotated around his nucleus and I watched them with wide, barely-functioning eyes, a breathing tube doing a fine job of making sure I still had no gag reflex. It is high time someone protected you.

Guetry and Mercury—

"This is where we part ways, I'm afraid." I tipped my head, my lips curling into a bittersweet smile that I didn't want to maintain for too long. "You sure?" "Yeah." Mercury turned away from me to watch the ships coming into dock for a moment. "I think...maybe you've got a lot goin' on." "I'm pretty unattached, actually. I've got some time off and I haven't had any of that in a long while, and…" When Mercury imparted a knowing and sympathetic look onto me, I sighed, nodding. "I know. It's...a lot. And I wouldn't ask you to deal with it." Mercury searched my face. "We'll see each other again. I know it. If we're supposed to, we will." I sniffed. "Are we supposed to?"

[cl0ckworkpuppet]

Kerfluffle - an Ensemble Stars Fan Story

Midori-kun's Catastrophic Discussion Panel - Chapter 2

Season: Winter Location: Kemokosu National Characters: Midori, Chiaki, Tetora, Shinobu, Kanata

[After the discussion panel]

Midori: (Jeez, that was boring.)

(I much rather would’ve spent the rest of the day attending the convention as normal.)

(Oh well... I got dragged into this against my will, as always. I don't know what I expected.)

(I’m tired, I just wanna go home...)

(...Wait a second.)

(“Go home”... Ugh, I didn't think about how I’d be getting back home...)

(If I stay here, it'll make them suspicious.)

(But if I go back with them holding a giant duffle bag, they'll be even more suspicious.)

(“Takamine! Where’d you get the bag? Can I have what's inside it?!” ...ugh.)

(I had a whole week, why didn't I think of this sooner?!)

...

Chiaki: Great job, everyone! I'm so proud of us all!

The crowd seemed really pumped for us to be talking about the relationship between kemono and sentai!

Midori: You mean, for you to be talking about the relationship between kemono and sentai.

Chiaki: Nonsense! With your expertise on mascots, and mine on the heroes of the small screen, it was like our worlds were intersecting!

You had just as much place there as the rest of us-- no, I would say you had more of a place!

Hehe, wasn't it fun? Did you like seeing all the cosplayers watch you in awe? Ooh, do you think they look up to you?

Man, imagine how cool it was for them! Especially since we got here on such short notice!

Midori: ...Sure, whatever. Can I go home now?

Tetora: Wait! What about that one rabbit guy we saw?

We really wanted Midori-kun to see him, right? We should go find him!

Midori: (Oh, God.)

Shinobu: Yeah! And can we go find that one cookie person again?

Tetora: What's gotten into you suddenly?! I know you're in a kigurumi, but did it turn you into the C**kie M*nster?!

Midori: (Alright. Just... act natural.)

...”rabbit guy”? There’s probably gonna be a lot of rabbits here.

I just wanna go home. Even if I wasn't here the entire time, having to sit through that embarrassment of a panel is already making me wanna die.

Shinobu: ...? I know Midori-kun is usually a pessimist, but you seem way worse than usual today de gozaru...

Chiaki: Mmhm. I thought you'd be more excited for today?

Kanata: ...

Midori: I’m fine. Just get me out of here.

Tetora: Wait! Midori-kun, where are you going?!

Midori: I’m going to clear my head. Don't follow me.

Tetora: ...

Shinobu: ...

Chiaki: Takamine...?

Kanata: ...

(this is bad...)

(the “poor thing” is probably stressed...)

i’m gonna go “talk” to him.

Chiaki: Kanata?

Kanata: don’t worry, chiaki. i think i know just what the “doctor” ordered... ♪

you all can “head out” whenever you'd like, we’ll “catch up” soon~

Tetora: Thank you, Shinkai-senpai!

Shinobu: Are you sure he'll be alright...?

Kanata: mhm~ don’t “worry” about him, okay?

you're a “good boy” for worrying about him, pat pat~

but i’ll worry about him for you, okay?

Shinobu: ...(nod)

Chiaki: ...Thank you, Kanata...! ☆

Kanata: you're the most “worried” out of all of us, aren't you, chiaki?

then, i’ll tell you, too: he's “safe” in my hands~

you didn't do anything “wrong” today. i’m sure he “appreciates” this, “deep down”.

but i’ll “talk” with him, just to “make sure”. ♡

Chiaki: I know I can count on you, Kanata...

Be his hero for me, okay? ⁠☆ Kanata: ... (hero poses) ☆ ---

✿ ⟼

[sharkbait77]

Vacation Starts Now (Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader)

Rating: M

Warnings: Mentions of birthday suits, implied seggsy times, food, some spooky vibes, language

W/C: 1k

A/N: Jack's back! I love writing for him, I need to do it more often lol I have so much fun with these Writer Wednesday prompts, it's so nice to be able to let loose & allow my creativity to run wild ♥️ As always, thank you @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape! I know we're entering spooky season, but leave it to me to make it fluffy lol

Masterlist || Taglist

Gif by @a-gent-galahad

It’s quiet. Way too fucking quiet for being in the middle of the woods. Your ears zero in on any little sound, the cracks of twigs underneath your boots, the chirp of a bird flying back home. You feel a tickle against the back of your neck and swat at it, the hairs standing up as you suddenly get the feeling you’re being watched.

To your left is your new boyfriend, big goofy grin on his face as he steps out of the car. It had, honestly, caught you off guard when he asked you to go on a little vacation with him; usually vacations don’t start until a good amount of time into a relationship, but he insisted and you couldn’t fight the temptation, given your love of the outdoors.

“Jack, I'm not sure about this,” you falter as Jack unloads the suitcases from the backseat.

“C'mon darlin’, my folks gave it to us for the whole week,” he says in a convincing tone. “It’s too late to turn back now.”

“But it looks so...spooky, I’ve got goosebumps,” you rush to his side to hold his arm in an attempt for comfort.

“Sweetheart, it’s just the season, all the leaves have fallen already and it’s foggy at any time of day,” he turns his body to face you and he wraps his arms around your shoulders tightly to comfort you. “Cross my heart, I wouldn’t have brought you if I didn’t think it was safe, alright?”

“Okay…” You sigh and lean up to kiss his cheek, moving out of his arms to grab your suitcase. “But you brought your revolver, right?”

“Yes darlin’,” he chuckles. You grunt and groan as you attempt to pull your suitcase through the dirt, refusing Jack’s offer to help since he’s carrying the rest. “Now, I told ya not to bring that giant ass suitcase, didn’t I?”

“We’re here for a week, Jack!”

“So? We’ll be barebacked for the majority of our stay, all you really had to bring was a change of clothes for the trip home,” he winks flirtatiously.

“And freeze? No thank you, I’m rather fond of my fingers and toes.”

“I’m fond of them too, honey, especially when you do that thing where you-”

“Okay! I get it,” you laugh. You yield to your, admittedly, gigantic suitcase, giving up on trying to save it from getting too dirty, and start dragging it behind you as best as you can. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

“C’mon darlin’, let’s getcha inside and I’ll start a fire and strip you down, nice and slow,” Jack chuckles, hurrying up the steps to the door.

“Can we eat first? Dragging this suitcase made me hungry,” you joke and he shakes his head.

“You can eat naked, honey. I’m not wastin’ another minute not having that gorgeous body of yours bare in front of me.”

As soon as Jack unlocks the door, he opens it wide and the hinges cry out with a high pitched creak, likely from not having been opened in so long. You leave your suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and Jack leaves the cooler, full of food to stock the fridge for your stay, and he walks back down to grab your suitcase.

You walk through the door and your surroundings take your breath away. A very well decorated and modern setting; industrial like decor, black metal accents against the ivory panels of the walls. It's so airy and open as well, bright enough throughout the cabin to make you forget how eerie it looked from the outside.

“Jack… It’s so beautiful,” you gasp.

“My sister decorated it and her husband comes every so often to make sure it’s clean. My folks rent it out here and there, it’s called an ‘air’...somethin’,” he says through a large grin, very obviously proud of his little sister’s abilities.

“Airbnb?” You snort.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles and shakes his head, removing his hat and coat and hanging them on the metal hook sticking out of the wall.

“Well, I love it,” you wrap your arms around his waist. “Thank you, Jack. I’m sorry I had doubts.”

“It’s fine, sugar,” he leans down to kiss your lips. “Oh, but my momma wanted me to warn ya that if you see a pair of green eyes out the window, don’t stare or else he’ll take it as an invitation and we’ll be fucked.”

“Jack!” You squeal and slap his arms, causing him to laugh and hug you tighter.

“Now, honey, I’m only teasin’,” he kisses your temple, the sweet spot he knows to go after that’ll have you melting back into him. “Everyone knows it’s the red eyes you gotta look out for.”

“Jack, you’re an asshole,” you chuckle, pinching his side to make him release you. “I’d be more than happy to trip you while we run away so they have something to preoccupy themselves with.”

“Ouch, darlin’, cut me to the quick why don’t ya?”

You giggle and place a kiss on his cheek, moving to the kitchen to start unloading everything from the cooler into the fridge while Jack walks over to the fireplace to light it up. You catch yourself staring at him while he works, the muscles bunching and tensing under his shirt, not to mention the strain on his sleeves from his biceps.

You catch yourself clenching your thighs together as you imagine those muscles flexing from a different activity and you bite your lip as you saunter over to him, kneeling down on the floor right behind him. You run your hands across his back and shoulders and he jumps slightly.

“Well, hello there,” he says and you can practically see the cocky smirk on his face. “I thought you were hungry.”

“Hmm… Hungry for something else now,” you flirt, grazing your hands down his back as you lightly pepper kisses to the back of his neck and he shivers.

“Well, like I said, darlin’,” he turns on his knees to hold you in his arms, bending down to kiss your jaw and neck. “This vacation will be a whole lot of naked.”

“Better get started then, Mr. Daniels,” you say breathlessly and giggle as Jack lowers you to the floor, the flames from the fireplace and from your core warming the two of you up quickly.

~

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @amandalovess @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @magpie-to-the-morning @pbeatriz @radiowallet @Stevie75 @honestly-shite @bison-writes @amneris21

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels Tags: @quietpainter @grogusmum

[dreambigdreamz]

When you get this you have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨💝

Thank you, qween <3

1. My optimism. Call it what you will, optimism or ignorance. But when I'm stuck in a demanding situation, I usually don't freak out or panic. Sure, I'll probably be quieter than usual and just fret about it silently on the inside depending on the size of the problem but I most likely will try to forget it until I'm mentally prepared to tackle it. I think it's at least better than worrying constantly worried over everything that goes wrong in life. I'm also happy that I've began to show that optimism too, when my mother was being uncertain about us having to use solar panels instead of electricity. I told her, "Don't worry, mom. The thing with our family is, whenever we get into some trouble, I have recognized a pattern that we almost always end up better than previous circumstances anyways." Which was true, and it made me so happy that she is still quoting that to others (yes, she likes to show me off 🤧)

2. My willingness. Connecting with the previous point, I always want to give my best every time I do something. If I can't, then I mostly end up despairing over the failure, and sometimes even lose will to keep on trying. Of late, I have come to understand failing once doesn't mean your life is a failure, but failing to try again does. I think I'm just determined to prove myself to others (a thirst, if you will), especially my mom like ^^^ those little rewards of knowing I made my family proud is one of the motivations that fuels me forth to give my best. I also like giving everything a try, except those rare times I turn cowardly, because what I fear most is regret. Is that included in the seven sins? It'd probably be my fatal flaw though. Like Aslan said, "To ask what would have happened, child? No, nobody is ever told that." And what I don't know, I desire to know most. I'm basically open-minded to everything except secrecy. Or like, oblivion? Wait, no, just the fact that you know something's there but you don't know what? Yeah, I hate that feeling.

3. My love. I have an abundance for that, rest assured. Even to total strangers across the world, I have this longing to share and send the care and love all the way to them. Sure, no big deal. Almost everyone I've met online are sweet angels who are very generous with their time and kindness for others. But something I admire more is self-love. This is very rare to witness as most people don't like to express it much, for fear of coming off as a selfish, conceited person. Most probably. And in truth, there really is such a thin line between self-love and selfishness that it's almost hard to distinguish the two. But there are a few I've come across, who I heartily adore for that matter (the asker being included in that category 💞). And I also like to think the same for myself too. I would never degrade myself or could ever hate myself for how I look and sound and think. I just love everything about me so much, and appreciate that I have become a better person with each passing year. For sure, I'd still think I'm not good enough — I'm nowhere near being good enough. But here comes in my optimism and willingness to ensure I keep taking the journey with enthusiasm. Besides, ever since I was born, I have been given everything by my parents who laid their lives for me, and taught me wisely to never succumb to intimidation; be it wealth, knowledge or other. They taught me never to fully become someone's slave, but be an eager student taking lessons from those better than myself. But never, ever, think I won't be able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them. And I love that. I love the idea of being in love, I love the idea of loving another, and I love myself.

4. My image. As already said, I love how I look. I also love how I am perceived. It's taken a long way for me to be where I am right now, and I can't help but be proud of that. Many people don't consider me pretty (and I wouldn't either, except when I'm alone in my room and being crazy), but I think I look approachable. Meaning, I don't look off-putting but instead, a friendly open person. Furthermore, I am widely known at school as a hard-working student, and an outstanding one. Since I go to a prep school which is private, word spreads around quick. One of my goals in life is to one day hear from my brother, that one of his teachers asked him, "Hey, are you Snow's little brother?" I've heard my teachers ask this to a friend, and I realized what was going on. My friend has sisters who were outstanding in their own time, and are now traveling abroad to study overseas. They made themselves known in their society, and are easily associated with a good name wherever they go. That's what I would like to accomplish too, to make a name for myself and leave an image. So yeah. I love how I look. But I also love how I am perceived.

5. My thoughts. Nothing. Just that. I can't delve into detail or I might give embarrassing examples and I will never be able to live through it. But yeet.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Alix's rom-com night

The June event of the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for one of our fics - I decided to seize the opportunity to finally sit down and write one of the bonus scenes of You can count on me (I will be there for you), and to do draw a bit of fanart to go with it (4 panels, including a Marichat piece)! Let me tell you that the Burrow is a pain to draw, but I'm actually quite proud of the result :)

About YCCOM: It's an aged-up, one-sided reveal with "fake" wedding fic, based on Sallteas' art. The fic is 9 chapters and 20k words long. It was written before season 4, so it's no longer canon compliant in terms of who knows who's identities at the beginning.

Synopsis: Ladybug's identity is compromised, and somebody is after her. After a lot of pondering, she and Chat Noir come to the conclusion that her best bet is for her to marry Adrien Agreste. It breaks her heart that she is not marrying Chat Noir, but she knows that she's buying them time to figure out who is behind the anonymous letters she's been receiving, and hopefully to find Hawkmoth. Whatever the situation might be, her wedding day should provide a moment of respite. And maybe it would have, had Chat Noir refrained from coming to visit her just before the ceremony...

About Alix's rom-com night: it's a one shot that's chronologically set before the main fic, but I recommend reading it after reading the latter since it contains spoilers for it. It follows Alix (obviously), and includes Ladybug revealing her identity to Chat Noir and the set up of their "fake wedding" plan.

Hope you enjoy!

---

Alix opened her door and dropped her keys in the bowl as she kicked off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. Home, sweet home.

Her studio apartment wasn’t very big, but then again, she didn’t need a huge surface when she had a whole extension waiting for her just a transformation phrase away. She’d mentally thanked Marinette more than once for choosing her to wield the Rabbit Miraculous, rather than somebody else, just for the savings she made in rent.

She whistled happily as she made her way to her kitchen area, grabbing a bag of popcorn out of a cupboard and shoving it in her microwave.

She deserved the treat. She’d been running around all week, trying to slide letters to her targets without being spotted, spending hours on end to find the perfect stationary, and then staying up at night to get the wording exactly right, a delicate mix of subtlety and threat to elicit some sort of response from them. It had taken a lot of trial and error, especially for Ladybug. Her friend had always been surprisingly oblivious on many fronts, and it seemed that her honeymoon phase with Chat Noir reinforced her optimistic ability to brush ominous details aside. It had taken three letters for her to start freaking out and to promise Tikki she would talk to her partner about them, whereas Hawkmoth had started the analysis phase upon the first one he’d received.

Alix had only been mildly surprised by the identity of their nemesis when she’d decided it was high time she knew who they were facing; it was all too fitting that the man who leached off Paris’ most intense negative emotions should be the most embittered person she knew, and the one who, in retrospect, had been the cause of many an Akuma (she still shuddered at the what-could-have-been of Chat Noir’s akumatisation).

The microwave dinged, bringing her thoughts back to her timeline. She took the bowl out and called for her Kwami.

“Fluff, clockwise! Burrow!”

A white portal appeared in the middle of her living space and she walked through it, emerging in the ovoid room covered in screens. She made her way to the furthest point, hung her umbrella up on the coathanger she kept in there, and grabbed a folding chair. It was a director’s seat which supposedly had belonged to a rising name in the cinema world before their career had been shot down for obscure reasons, but she didn’t really care about its story; she’d bought it for a very low price at a yard sale, and that was all that mattered to her.

“Right, where are you…” She muttered, scrutinising her surroundings, until she found the screen she was looking for.

She unfolded the chair, zoomed in on the empty (for now) rooftop, propped down in her seat and threw a fistful of popcorn into her mouth, waiting for the show to start.

Unsurprisingly, Ladybug was the first to arrive on the scene. She paced around, mumbling to herself as she wrung her hands together. Alix felt a pang of guilt as she watched her rehearse how she would break the news to her partner, but reassured herself that the ordeal would soon be over.

Finally, Chat Noir landed beside Ladybug, and she flung herself at him, holding him so tight he had to untangle himself from her arms to breathe.

“Well, well, well, my Lady, I know I couldn’t make it to patrol last night, but I didn’t think you’d miss me this much,” he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Alix rolled her eyes at just how lovestruck he looked as he did so. How could her friends be so sappy, and yet still be at square one in terms of knowing who the other was?

Some might have said that it was romantic, that they loved each other regardless of who they were; but those people did not have to deal with the constant end of the world threat.

“What was so important that you couldn’t just text me?”

Ladybug took a deep breath. Her fingers slid along his arms as she relaxed her embrace, taking his hands in hers at the end of the line. “Somebody knows my identity,” she said quietly, looking down. “And I don’t know who they are.”

“What?!” Chat’s voice detonated in the previously peaceful quiet of the evening, making a couple of pigeons take off in a loud flutter of wings.

“I’m so sorry, I must have been careless when I got home one night, they must have seen me, I bet it was last week when I was tired and I-”

“My Lady, no offence, but I don’t care about the when and why, just... are you okay?” He tilted her chin up, gently turning her head to each side, checking for any signs of injury.

She placed her hand on his, making him stop, and gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, Chaton. Just a little rattled; you know you were the first person I wanted to reveal my identity to. Not including Bunnyx, although technically I never told her who I am.”

“And technically, I’m still the only person who knows who you are,” Bunnyx smugly commented between two handfuls of popcorn. “Now come on, I want to see how you react when you reveal your identities to each other.”

“How do you know somebody knows, though? And do you have any idea what their intentions are?”

Ladybug’s expression darkened. “I received some letters. They’re not signed, but they’ve got enough butterflies on them to make me think that even if they’re not from the biggest pest in Paris, then they’re probably from somebody who’s up to no good.”

Chat Noir swore under his breath, then regained his countenance. “So, what do we do now? Do you think we can hunt down the bugger?”

“We definitely will, but…” Ladybug bit her lip, and Alix leaned forward in her seat. This had to be it. “Chaton, I think the time has come for me to tell you who I am.”

“YES! Finally!” Alix cheered, almost spilling her popcorn bowl.

“Are you sure, my Lady?” Alix didn’t have to be on site to tell that Chat Noir’s heart was beating faster than usual; the corners of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile, as though his excitement could make her change her mind.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I really want you to know.” In case something happens to me, Alix was pretty sure her friend had left unsaid.

“Okay, okay.” Chat Noir took a deep breath, buzzing with anticipation, so much so that he apparently missed the whole subtext of her previous words. “Do you want to do this now? And how do you want to do it? Do you want me to close my eyes? Are you going to write it on a piece of paper for me to read? Are you going to detransform? Should-”

“I was thinking the latter, and yes, now,” Ladybug said timidly. “Up to you if you want to look or not.”

“For some reason, I feel like I shouldn’t.” He took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles without breaking their eye contact, then took another deep breath and closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his lips. “Ready when you are, my Lady.”

“Ok, here goes.” She let out a shaky breath and called off her transformation. The soft pink glow engulfed her and receded, her suit melting away to reveal her true appearance.

“Wow, Marinette, you actually broke out your favourite dress for this? Glad to see all of this isn’t affecting your ability to think straight.” Alix smirked. If her friend had gone home after a long, stressful work day, and found it in her to change and doll herself up to make a good impression on Chat Noir, things couldn’t be that bad. She had to agree that her dress, simple, white, with little red hearts embroidered on it, was perfect for the occasion, though.

“You can open your eyes now, Chaton.” Marinette gave his hands a squeeze.

Chat Noir obliged, blinking slowly as he took in her appearance, her identity, her. Marinette squirmed under his gaze, his expression not giving away any of his thoughts.

“H-Hi,” she stammered when she couldn’t take it anymore. “I, erm, I guess I should introduce myself? We’ve run into each other before, when we were younger, and even if you actually had lunch with my family that one time, I guess it’s been a while… My name is-”

“Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Chat’s smile finally broke free, spread from ear to ear, almost literally illuminating his face. Alix wondered if anything could ever wipe it off. Love and admiration twinkled in his eyes as he picked her up and started spinning her. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, giggling giddily, before Chat Noir closed the gap between their lips.

Bunnyx modestly looked away, allowing them to have their moment. Her eyes landed on a rerun of Plagg putting an end to the dinosaurs’ reign.

“I should have known that it was you, Princess.” Chat panted slightly as he carefully set Marinette back on the roof. “Everything makes so much more sense now, I-”

“Before you finish that thought, I can’t know your identity.” She placed her index finger on his lips. “Yet, of course.”

“What?” Chat froze, and so did Bunnyx, her hand pausing midway between the popcorn bowl and her mouth. “But why?”

“I don’t know what might happen to me, but I don’t want to put you in any danger.” Marinette cupped his cheek. “And I don’t want to lose my memories of you. Of us.”

“Oh for Kwami’s sake.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Boo!” She threw a fistful of popcorn at the screen as her friend continued to list all the reasons Chat couldn’t reveal his identity.

“My Lady, Marinette, if you’re worried about your safety, maybe we should do something about it. I could move in with you, or in a flat nearby, maybe, stay transformed or wear a mask at all times so you don’t know who I am, we can figure it out… Of course I know you can protect yourself, but I could stand guard while you sleep, or...” Chat raked his hand through his hair as he thought.

“You know I love you, Chaton, and that’s why I can’t let you do that! You can’t live like that, I can’t ask that of you. Not to mention how difficult it would be for me, do you really think I could resist having you so close, and not trying to get a glimpse of who you are?” She joked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension.

“Then we need to get you a bodyguard,” he insisted.

“I thought about it, but… Well, I can’t really afford it, and how could I justify suddenly needing personal security? I’m just a designer, and nothing I’ve ever done has been avant-garde enough that I should be worried about my safety.” She shook her head.

“Damn, I knew I should have targeted Chat Noir,” Alix swore under her breath. “He would’ve had to reveal his identity, and she definitely wouldn’t have been a pushover on her kitty’s protection matter. Come on Adrien, do something.”

She could tell that he was up to something just by looking at him. He’d been silent for a little too long for it to be natural. Cogs turned in his head, making him squint. He let go of her completely and paced around the roof, almost pulling his hair out as he did so. Alix sensed that whatever was on his mind was going to be big. She leaned forwards in anticipation.

Finally, Chat Noir came to a halt in front of Marinette, the fever in his eyes and his dishevelled hair making him look slightly unhinged.

“Buguinette, I think I’ve got a solution,” he whispered.

“You do?” Marinette’s voice was full of hope, although she looked slightly concerned about him.

“You’re probably not going to like it,” he warned her, lifting a finger.

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” She shrugged, taking a step forward.

“Right.” He gave her one last look, an opportunity to stop him before the words tumbled out. She nodded encouragingly. “Okay, here’s the thing. I have it on very good authority that Adrien Agreste is being pressured into getting married by his father.”

“I see Gabriel’s just as delightful as always,” Marinette shook her head.

“Unlike good cheese, he definitely doesn’t get better with time.” Chat smiled bitterly, eyes losing focus a little.

“What’s it got to do with us, though?” Marinette prompted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Agreste, you absolute genius, I think I know where this is going.” Alix took another handful of popcorn.

“Oh, yes, right.” He cleared his throat. “See, Adrien’s not dating anyone at the moment…” Right, Alix snorted. “And he’s not really planning on starting a relationship with his father breathing down his neck, but, well, he happens to owe me a favour, and I’m sure that he’d be more than happy to put his security detail to good use…”

“So you’re suggesting that I marry Adrien.” Marinette deadpanned.

“Well, er, I actually thought you could just date, but thinking about it… It would be less strange for you to request a bodyguard if your relationship was more serious…” He trailed off.

Alix was impressed by how well he concealed his emotions. His poker face was truly exceptional.

“And you think Adrien would be ready to marry me because of a favour he owes you?” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and squinting at him as she tried to pick at his lie.

Alix winced for Chat. Maybe he should have waited a bit before blurting out the (as it turned out) probably only sane option in that situation so he could work out all of the details for himself. Marinette was very good at trying to shake plans to see how solid their foundations were.

“Please. Adrien had a crush on you when you were younger, if anything I could probably smuggle it as another favour, given how perfect the fake scenario would be. Although I guess that since you also liked him… It might just cancel out.” He tapped his lip pensively.

“Adrien had a crush on me?” Marinette frowned. “Oh, you must mean Ladybug. I think Nino mentioned it once.”

“Well, yes, but he also had one on you, Marinette.” Chat stepped forward, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he poked her on the nose.

“Really, now,” she muttered to herself.

“The main reason he didn’t act on it was that he thought you loved somebody else.” Chat smiled ironically.

“Wow, what a pair of idiots.” Marinette chuckled.

“You don’t know the half of it.” He kissed her forehead.

“But you know what?” Marinette didn’t pick up on her partner’s comment. “I’m actually glad we didn’t get together. It probably would have delayed us getting together.” She pressed a peck to his lips. “If we’d gotten together at all in that timeline.” She smirked.

Alix snorted. Out of all the timelines she’d watched unfold in an attempt to keep things in check, there wasn’t a single one where Marinette and Adrien, Ladybug and Chat Noir, didn’t end up together, and not just because of her interventions to help them, and the rest of the planet, stay alive.

Marinette’s face fell at Chat Noir’s lack of response. Alix knew her friend didn’t particularly believe in soulmates, but she understood that she would have liked a sappy Chat Noir special comment on how he’d told her he’d grow onto her anyway, and that she would have soon discovered that the Agreste boy had nothing on him. She assumed that he was too busy restraining himself from saying the wrong thing.

“Actually… What about us, then?” Marinette cleared her throat and looked up at him, eyes glistening slightly in the half light.

“My Lady… If you really think that you being a divorcée will spur me away…” Chat Noir looked down at their entwined hands, locks of blond hair falling in front of his eyes, concealing his giddy smile from her. You sneaky cat, Alix thought.

Marinette followed his gaze, letting out a long sigh as she watched their hands sway lightly. Alix knew her brain was probably trying to find all the flaws in the plan. She crossed her fingers, hoping that it would be enough for her friend to accept. It was perfect, whether they got their act together and figured everything out before the event, or not.

“Fine,” Marinette finally said with resolve, making Alix mentally thank whoever was out there. “I’ll do it on two conditions.”

“Anything, my love.” Chat let out a sigh of relief.

“Firstly, we’re honest with Adrien from the get go. No lying about anything.” Chat nodded along. “Secondly, we get cracking on finding Hawkmoth, and after we do and the divorce is settled, if we even get that far with Adrien because obviously if everything is settled before the wedding we won’t be going through the whole plan…” Chat smiled fondly as she took a deep breath. “After all that, we are getting married.” She gestured between the both of them.

“My Lady, are you proposing to me right meow?” Chat Noir all but purred.

“I guess so.” Marinette shrugged, a smile and a blush spreading on her cheeks.

“Wow, then, I’m definitely putting Adrien in charge of the proposal planning,” he replied with a smirk.

“Chaton!” She stomped her foot, her mildly amused smile cancelling out her frown.

“What?” He teased her.

“Will you? Marry me?” She held his gaze.

“Do you even have to ask?” He chuckled. “You know, my Lady, I’m pretty sure that, in my head, we’ve been married since that speech you gave on the Eiffel Tower during our very first fight. Well, I’ve been married to you; you do whatever you please.”

“You’re such a dork,” Marinette laughed, brushing her nose against his and throwing her arms around his neck.

“And yet you still love me.” He pulled her closer.

“Unfortunately, I do,” she sighed dramatically before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Alix dismissed the screen. She’d seen what she wanted, and it seemed like a good place to stop; a happy, sappy ending. Also, she’d finished all of her popcorn.

Everything was on track, her friends would start their Hawkmoth hunt, and soon everybody in Paris would be able to live without fear of their own negative emotions.

(Of course, that was the theory; she’d soon find out that she’d underestimated Adrien’s will to organise the perfect wedding for Marinette, and that, my friends, was no small oversight.)

[ivory-sunflower]

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere. 

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless. 

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx 

29/11/2020

[poptod]

hey it's me again :) can i request an ahk x reader where y/n is a programmer and is showing him all the things she can do with a computer and him just being super amazed at her skills and the progress of technology in general? please feel free to add stuff i'm not super imaginative. i love your writing and thanks again!

hello again! thank u for requesting and i’m glad you like what i write! this one’s a bit shorter, sorry about that, but i think it’s sweet. my dad’s actually a programmer, with epic, not valve, but still fun to write.

"You're really good at this," Ahk said, leaning over your shoulder to look at the computer screen. The brightness and the many pixels of the screen hurt your eyes, considering you were used to computers that weren't made in the 90's, but you could make do. Computers were the one thing that you knew your way around, no matter the type.

"Ahk, I'm just showing you how to google something," you said as you tried to hold back a laugh, turning to him only to almost kiss his cheek. You quickly turned right back to the screen.

"Is it something people do often?"

"Google stuff? Yeah. The internet has answers to almost any question, as long as someone on the earth knows the answer, it's usually on the internet," you said in hopes of him understanding. "The internet is... like a connection, sort of. Every computer can connect to one another, so I could talk to someone on the other side of the world, and I can go into a non-physical library of information. It's not just used for knowledge, though. Lots of other things too."

He pulled one of the rolling chairs from its' place at the reception desk, rolling it beside yours and sitting next to you, his thigh pressed against yours as he stared at the screen. You bit the inside of your cheek.

"So – you work with computers, right? What is it that you do with them?"

"I test certain programs, make sure they function correctly, I also make some myself. They aren't horribly complicated but I do have a website for them," you said, hoping your explanation wasn't too complicated. You never knew with Ahk – sometimes he got it immediately, sometimes you needed to explain fifty times. "Here," you said, "I'll show you one that I’m working on."

He scooted even closer to the desk, eyes wide with curiosity and intrigue. Every now and then he'd pick up this child-like love of things, namely balloons and coffee, and now the computer. Every now and then you wished he'd direct that child-like love to you.

Typing in your website, you opened up the home page, quickly navigating till you came to the various programs and ideas you kept. There you scanned through them, wondering which one Ahk would like more, as well as what would be impressive to a 4,000 year old Pharaoh.

"I think you'll like this one. It's a video game I'm working on with Valve, still a prototype and all that, that's why it's on my website," you said, clicking on it and loading up what you had so far.

"Why would being a prototype qualify for being on your webbings?" Ahk asked as he watched the loading screen with much interest.

"We need beta testers, just to play over the levels and such, make sure there aren't any bugs in the coding. Most programmers though, uh," you paused as the game loaded up, the glass walls of the prison surrounding the first person view of the game, "they, um, they don't work with games. A lot of programmers work with things like lags in the loading, stuff like that, y'know?"

"I... think so," he said as he nodded slowly. "How does this game work?"

You proceeded to explain how video games were a sort of 'playable story,' with dialogue and options as well as puzzles and battles much more engrossing than those in board games. He seemed to understand that well enough, so you moved onto how to control the character. Currently, there was only one room built into the game, with only one puzzle to solve, but that didn't stop Ahk's face from lighting up when you asked if he wanted to play. He nodded vigorously, moving into your place when you scooted to the side.

This game was one you were both proud and happy to be working on – the concept was one you'd never seen before, and while it was hell trying to get the mechanics to work without confusing the player too much, the reward was fantastic. Besides personal fulfillment the pay wasn't bad at all, and it'd be great to put on your resume should you need it.

It took a little while and several more demonstrations, but he eventually learned how to move around, how the camera worked and how to spot bugs in the coding. From there you taught him the mechanics of the portal gun, reminding him early on that this wasn't a mechanic ever used before. He seemed delighted to try it out. With some help from you he finished the short level, using the portal gun to get out of the glass prison.

"It's still in the very early stages," you reminded him when he finished, a wide grin plastered across his face. "I doubt this level will even be in the actual game, but we'll see."

"How does it work? Do you animate it, or film it?" He asked, running the character all over the white room. You giggled.

"Not exactly," you said, taking the controls from him.

As you opened up the dev tools, lines upon paragraphs of coding appeared, showing words he couldn't understand, rules he couldn't comprehend, but it didn't stop him from trying. You continued to patiently explain how the computer worked, how one line could mean the color for one of the panels, or how a paragraph could dictate what happens when he as the player interacted with something.

"You made this?" Ahk asked as his mouth hung open, watching you scroll through the many lines of text.

"Some of it, yes, but my main job is to look for inconsistencies and problems in the coding," you said, unable to help from smiling. Hardly anyone had shown as much interest as Ahk did in your job, and his intrigue was a welcome change.

"How... how did you learn all of this?" He asked as he finally looked away from the coding, turning to face you. He sat impossible close to you, eager to see the computer, but it left you in a stumbling fluster as red coated your face.

"I, um – I went to, uh, school. And I had it as a, um, hobby when I was - uh, younger," you said, digging your nails into your thigh.

"Fascinating," he whispered, looking only to you as he spoke the word.

Everything in your body froze as he said that, wondering if he found your work fascinating, or technology, or just you. It couldn't be just you, but for a second you knew the exhilarating feeling of being admired by one you admired so greatly.

"Ahk?!" Larry yelled from the top of the stairs, gaining both his and yours attention. "Need you up here – statues don't recognize me again."

"Ugh," Ahk groaned, turning back to the now black screen for just a second before he faced you. "Thank you for the demonstration and for your time," he said as he stood, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your cheek before he ran off, his cape flying behind him as he raced up the stairs.

You caught your reflection in the screen.

You never looked more like a cherry than you did now.

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

I'm not against he tian paying mo for something. or just giving him money. But I didn't think mo would say that he likes he tian's money. In the past mo hated he tian and his money but now he knows that there's more to he tian. I just wasn't prepared for mo to actually admit that he likes his money. Your thoughts?

Hello, dear anon!

I have mentioned money in the context of Tianshan a couple of times but I don’t think I have ever talked about it in more detail. As you said, there has been some development regarding this part of their relationships, too, so I thought why not take this opportunity to talk about in a broader sense.

Here are some previous posts that I think could be related to this topic:

My thoughts on the boys making HT pay

What could MGS’s “secret” be?

Did MGS hate HT in the beginning? 

HT and spending money on MGS (among other things)

MGS as a worker (among other things)

My Tianshan “timeline” (for how I interpret their development in general)

For the most part, I will be concentrating on MGS’s perspective on money and what part it plays in his relationship with HT. I feel like that’s a somewhat natural perspective to look at this topic, but we’ll see if I can get something out of HT, too.

This will be a longer answer than you were strickly speaking asking about, but I feel like I needed to take a step back, so it’s easier to see where I’m coming from when I finally do get to your question.

MGS and money

MGS is a strange mix of emotions when it comes to money. On one hand, he’s incredibly proud and adamantly refuses any handouts and charity. They might be poor but he won’t grovel. He works hard to support his mother and takes great pride in doing a good job and earning honest money.

On the other hand, money is a sore spot for MGS and he gets easily defensive about it. Being desperate for money is not only something people could take advantage of if MGS isn’t keeping his guard up but being poor is also something that is usually looked down on in society. Sometimes I get the feeling that MGS feels like he’s not only an outcast but he’s also below others.

There are a few occasions in the comic regarding MGS and money that I think are especially interesting. The first one we’re probably the most familiar with is when he agreed to take the blame for something he didn’t do and get compensated for it (ch. 154, 178, 188):

I think this spoke volumes about how deep in desperation this kid had sunken. He was basically ready to throw away his future - or at least getting the same chance at it like others - to work at a bar. I think it showed heartbreakingly clearly under how much pressure MGS was and how heavy the responsibilities had grown in his mind. Despite everything, we still have to take him as a kid with a kid’s mind, and I think this was a good example of that. I’m sure he knew what submitting to SL meant but he saw no other way than to make an almost desperate sacrifice as a child who had been taking on adult’s responsibilities. When in truth, no matter how tight they might have been on money, I refuse to believe his mother would have ever agreed to MGS quitting school and start working fulltime. MGS is proud and strives for independence and I admire him for that, but this side of him also has pretty dark downsides.

Another interesting occasion was MGS’s reaction when JY offered him a bag of money (ch. 254):

First of all - and this is something I hadn’t even noticed before - MGS’s visible, physical reaction to seeing so much cash. He was literally trembling. I doubt he had ever seen so much money. Imagine suddenly seeing something that would solve the lion share of your problems.

Secondly, the way MGS turned the money down has always been an interesting detail to me.

I wasn’t expecting him to accept the charity but I was half expecting him to smack JY in the face with the bag. Smack him with something at least. Curse and yell, full of defense. To my surprise, though, MGS seemed almost...dare I say, touched? Even a tiny bit gentle? I think JY often gets on MGS’s nerves but I don’t think he quite knows how to handle it when JY is being a good friend to him. When JY is loudly standing up for him or offering him something like that bag of money. I also think JY might have been onto something when he said MGS was running away from the situation. I would say he needed to physically get himself away from the stack of cash but also to hide what emotions JY’s gesture had evoked in him.

The last detail that has always interested me is when HT and MGS were talking about the future (ch. 305):

First of all, I feel like this is a good representation of how much not having money affects our overall mindset. When you live from hand to mouth, the “future” might be difficult to picture and something you can’t waste time thinking about. When you need to work hard just to survive for a moment, your field of vision narrows down. While not trying to get political, I think this is often lost on people who are better off and can’t see why people who are struggling aren’t “working hard” to get themselves out of the situation. 

Secondly, I think this is an interesting meeting between two opposites in life. HT has been surrounded by wealth his whole life but he’s always been lacking something deeper. All the money his family has can’t make up for the fact that he’s lonely and uncomfortable with the “meaning” his life is supposed to have according to his father. Whereas MGS feels like he has to put everything else on hold until he’s secured a stable enough ground in life. Money will give meaning by allowing him to finally enjoy life and opening opportunities to him.

However, perhaps the most interesting little money-related detail to me has always been what MGS said after that.

This panel is connected to what I said earlier about MGS feeling inferior because he’s poor. It no doubt has contributed to his spite and pride but at the same time, it sounds like he’s fantasized about being rich. He would show everyone and make them recognize him - look up at him instead of down. In his fantasies, he thoroughly enjoys rubbing his money in everyone’s face and make them respect him. I think this showed something new in MGS - something a bit childish but also what he doesn’t really share with others. What we fantasize about having in life are also often things we’re touchy and insecure about.

Tianshan and money

As you mentioned it yourself, dear anon, MGS’s views on HT having money have shifted as their relationship has developed. In the beginning, he saw HT quite one-dimensionally (ch. 155):

Quite understandably, given MGS’s bad experiences with people more powerful than him, he was very guarded towards people like HT. He put HT in the category of rich people who thought his self-worth was for sale just because he was poor. Just because they had money, they thought they could take advantage of him and make him their monkey. In many ways, MGS saw HT’s money as a threat.

One of the things HT, on the other hand, very much admires in MGS are his pride and integrity (ch. 216):

MGS was given a chance to earn a considerably larger sum by doing something that would have made him uncomfortably but he refused. He was desperate for money but he still had limits and he wasn’t about to sell himself. His pride and dignity were few of the things MGS could still call his own, and they weren’t for sale. People in HT’s world acted differently. They would sneak and cheat to get richer, and you couldn’t trust anyone. I think HT fell a little deeper for MGS when he told him why he didn’t want to model.

As their relationship kept developing, MGS started to see that HT wasn’t looking to trick him and use him. He might have had his own agenda but he was on MGS’s side. Of course, MGS still didn’t accept charity but they fell into this strange, almost illusion-like dynamics of HT giving MGS silly little tasks he could pay him for.

There’s one panel, especially, that I have always been wondering about. It’s when MGS was at the hospital and JY came to see him (ch. 246):

The way MGS reacts to JY’s complaining seems almost like he’s defending HT? Was he being like that because learning to see new sides to HT had made him see people like him in a slightly different light? That having lots of money doesn’t determine anyone as a person?

I think that’s probably very likely but I also kind of think that despite being suspicious of rich people who approach him, MGS has somewhat of a complicated relationship with that class of people. He feels inferior to them but also seems to believe that there’s no shame in being rich. Just like he doesn’t want people to badmouth him and put him down for being poor, it’s not really in his nature to look down on people just for having lots of money. After all, they have what he also desperately wants and dreams about.

Then, to finally get to your question, what seemed to be MGS’s and Tianshan’s latest development in regards to money (ch. 324):

In a lot of ways, money is about trust in Tianshan. HT wants MGS to rely on him and he wants to be able to provide in case MGS needs something. He wants to help lighten the burden MGS carries and open up opportunities in life for him. On a more selfish level, he also wants to tie them more together by offering MGS chances to rely on him. Not in a “you owe me now” kind of way, though, but rather “I want you to see me as someone reliable and trustworthy and that will help deepen our relationship”.

MGS, on the other hand, has always rejected charity and HT trying to give him money or favors without paying them back somehow. He doesn’t want to put himself in that position of owing to someone despite HT trying to make him believe that he’s not going to hold it over his head. He doesn’t want to ask for anything or let HT do things for him. All of this connects to MGS’s pride but also him trusting HT.

I didn’t really take MGS saying he likes HT’s money (or likes him for his money) in a literal sense. Rather I interpreted it as MGS allowing HT to do this financial favor for him and - perhaps more importantly - allowing himself to rely on HT like this. I know letting HT pay for the groceries didn’t seem like a big deal but I think in MGS’s case, it is definitely development. He doesn’t see HT’s money as such a suspicious threat anymore. I’m not expecting him to start relying more on HT, to be honest, but I think this showed his feelings about HT’s help and support have shifted a little.

Was I surprised by the last panel and MGS “confession”? A little, yeah. I wasn’t expecting him to say something like that. But it also made sense to me as a part of their development.

Thank you for your question, dear anon!

[azkaabanter]

Can I request a Fanfic. Of like, Draco or Harry drinking Felix Felicis and then heck they kiss and wow fluff. That was a terrible description I'm sorry.

Draco Malfoy had done enough. At least… he thought he had. Considering that the potion he was competing for with the rest of the 8th year Slytherin class could literally change his life, he did as much as humanly possible to get HIS potion correct.

But now looking back on it…

‘What if I stirred 32 times instead of 33?’

'What if I added too much acromamtula venom?’

'What if-’

“Time’s up!” Professor Slughorn bellowed in glee, looking around at the room of sweaty and thoroughly exhausted students, every one of them fretting over their bright pink bubbling potion. “Amortentia is a very tricky potion indeed-” he looked around the room at the people smelling the air and grinned. “Especially when there is more than one batch being made per room.” Draco rolled his eyes and looked down at his delightfully scented bubblegum pink potion-

He’d never say it outright, but his amortentia smelled like… well…

broom polish… vanilla shampoo…

Particularly Quidditch sweat…

Pine needles…

In summary, basically it smelled like Potter. And Draco hated it.

“This looks quite promising, Mr. Malfoy.” Slughorn praised the blonde, earning himself a proud smirk.

“Thank you, Professor.” Draco said, then proceeded to watch closely as the Potions Master tested his brew on a pair of mice. Apparently the Professor liked what he saw, because when he grinned and straightened up, he cleared his throat to get the rest of the Slytherins’ attention.

The white noise of chatter stopped immediately as the green-clad students leaned forward in their seats in anticipation of the winner.

“You’ve all done exceptionally well with this project, and I wish I could give this prize to all of you.” The old professor chuckled lightly. “But! There can only be one winner. And that winner is…” Draco held his breath and crossed his fingers so hard they nearly turned red. “Draco Malfoy.” The professor announced, and Draco let go of his held breath in relief. The former Death Eater stood up and primly walked to the front of the class, ignored glares from his classmates, and collected his prize: a vial of Felix Felicis; enough to last 24 hours.

“Thank you, sir.” Draco said, turning the glass vial in his hand. Slughorn smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “No problem, my boy. You definitely earned it.”

With that, the class began to file out, (of course none of them snuck any amortentia- what are you talking about?) some stiffly congratulating Draco while others looked upon him in pure jealousy. “Draco!” Pansy shrieked, jumping on Draco’s back with a laugh.

“Yes, Pansy?” Draco huffed, feigning annoyance. Pansy pouted her black painted lips.

“Don’t give me that. You know exactly what I’m going to say-” The two walked along the stones that line the dungeon floor, hurrying to escape the cold of the halls and enter the warmth of the common room.

“Yes, of course I do- wrackspurt” Draco said to the wall, a panel swinging open or the two to enter through. A blast of comforting warmth and a feeling of home hit Draco, and he sighed contently.

“Soooo?” Pansy asked, lying on a couch and moving her legs up so Draco could sit under them, and resting them on his lap. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Pansy, we both already know-”

“I want you to say it out loud.” She said defiantly, and Draco let out an indignant puff of air.

“Fine.” Draco conceded, and Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Broom polish, Quidditch sweat, vanilla, and pine.” The blonde said quietly, fiddling with the tiny vial of liquid luck.

“Oh, honey you’re in loooooooove!” Pansy said with a giggle. Draco put his face in his hand, groaning.

“I am not-” Draco tried half-heartedly to protest, but Pansy wasn’t having it.

“Yes you are. And it’s adorable! You know, he probably likes you too-”

“You’re demented-”

“No, I’m serious!” She said, taking out her wand and drawing little designs in the air above her. “You two have gotten really close lately. You talk all the time, you sit next to each other during meals, you hang out on the grounds-”

“Those are all things that friends do, Pansy.” Draco snapped at his best friend.

“Draco, you have the answer in your hand right now.” Pansy said, drawing a little green snake. The boy looked once more at the vial, the gears turning in his head. The black haired girl looked at him with one of the most sincere faces he’d ever seen her wear. “You don’t even have to use the whole thing. Just take a tiny drop before dinner tonight, and ask him out or something.”

“That’s… a really good idea, actually.” Draco said, pushing Pansy’s legs off of him and standing up.

“No shit.” Pansy said nonchalantly, spinning her wand between her fingers. “Just one of my many talents.”

Draco rolled his eyes with a smirk, before he looked at his watch, anticipating the time two hours from then when he would hopefully be winning the heart of Harry James Potter.

-t.s-

“You got the vial?” Pansy asked Draco on their way to dinner. The crowd was buzzing with the usual mealtime gossip when they entered the Great Hall, glasses and silverware clinking.

“Of course.” Draco said absentmindedly while his eyes scanned the Gryffindor table for the black haired boy and his friends. Eventually they found him; laughing amongst his mates in a completely Potter-y way. His hair was tousled and unruly, and his eyes shone like emeralds behind those god awful glasses that would only ever look good on him. Draco and Pansy made their way across the hall to sit beside them.

“Draco! Come over here!” Harry greeted cheerfully, scooting over a bit so that the blonde could sit next to him. “Sup Pansy!” Harry greeted Draco’s companion, reaching over and giving her a high five. The rest of the table exchanged similar greetings with the Slytherin pair.

Draco’s side was pressed fully against Harry’s, but if the Savior cared at all, he sure didn’t show it. Dinner was going smoothly, everyone laughing like old friends, which was a welcome change from all of the drama from last year.

“So… I think Harry has something he wants to tell everyone.” Ron said with a smirk out of the blue. Harry nearly chokes on his pumpkin juice and sputters with confusion.

“W-what? Ron no…” He turned to Draco with a scared and almost embarrassed look on his face. “I don’t know what he’s talking about-”

“Obviously you do. How stupid do you think I am?” Draco scoffed, getting a warm blush from Harry.

“Not stupid at all-”

“Then you should know that you’re the worst liar ever.”

“How dare you?” Harry feigned being insulted. “You have insulted me!” He elbowed the Malfoy in the ribs, who broke out laughing.

“Okay, okay! Don’t tell me.” Draco laughed, his smile widening when he saw Harry’s blush. The rest of their friends just watched in amazement; they didn’t know how it was possible for two people to flirt so much without believing that the other liked them.

“Draco, I think you have something to tell Harry?” Pansy said, taking a casual sip from he goblet. Blaise had sat beside her at some point, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Draco’s reply was a vast opposite of Harry’s; the blonde was cool and collected in his answer. “I don’t know what you mean.” He said, taking a bite of potato.

“Oooh, is it confession time?” Blaise said, a glint in his eye. Draco sighed.

“Not unless you’re planning on confessing something.” Draco said.

“I will if the rest of you will… wait!” Blaise said, capturing the attention of everyone in the group. “Why don’t we all confess something? A little get to know you game.”

“Blaise-” I said, leaning over Pansy and putting a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a stupid idea.”

“I disagree.” Hermione piped in. “It could be fun! We all just have to share one thing no one knows about us.” She said excitedly.

“I don’t know-” Harry told her.

“Don’t ruin it Harry! Okay, I’ll go first.” Blaise said, ignoring Harry and Draco’s protests. “Let’s see…” He thought for a moment, before grinning widely. “The first time I had sex was when I was 16.” He said, and the table was filled with 'ooohs’.

“Who with?” Seamus asked, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively.

“Only one confession!” Blaise said, putting an arm around a giggling Pansy.

“I’ll go next!” Ron said, running a hand sheepishly through his hair. “I didn’t get my first kiss until 6th year.”

“Wait, Lavender was your first kiss?” Harry asked, astonished as Ron blushed crimson.

“Yeah… okay someone else go!” And with that, the 8th year friends went around the table, revealing secrets about themselves that had people giggling hysterically. The great hall had been clearing slowly an by the time it was Harry’s turn, only the 8th years playing the game were still there.

“Your turn Harry!” Dean said after revealing that once in 2nd year he had accidentally walked in on two 7th years about to have sex. (“I bolted as soon as I saw the shirts on the floor” he’s said)

“Alright…” He said, and looked around at all of us, before settling his eyes on the table. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to say…” He looked up, stared straight into my eyes for a moment, before looking down again. “I’m bisexual.” The table was silent for a long moment. When Draco looked around the table, everyone looked astonished except for Pansy and Blaise.

“Wait, no one else knew that?” Blaise asked, confused.

“How did you know?” Harry asked, a bright blush adorning his cheeks.

“Slytherin intuition. My gay-dar is never wrong.” Blaise said casually.

While the rest of the group discussed Harry’s sexuality, Pansy just kept giving Draco pointed looks that obviously meant 'I fucking told you so’. Draco just quietly scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Your turn Draco!” Ron said, obviously trying to stop Harry from being more uncomfortable.

“Oh…” Or as long as Draco had been playing, he still didn’t know what he would say. “Well…” He looked around the table, before meeting Pansy’s eye.

'Now’s your chance, you poncy git!’ They seemed to scream, and Draco took a deep breath.

“I… haven’t ever had my first kiss-” Draco said, chickening out at the last moment.

“That’s not something no one knew!” Blaise called out, Draco shooting him a glare.

“But it is true.” Pansy said with an innocent smile.

“Thanks Pansy…” Draco muttered, stealing a glimpse of Potter, who still had a bit of a blush on his cheeks.

“Give us something else.” Hermione said, resting her head on Ron’s shoulder.

“Fine.” The Slytherin snapped. This was his chance. This was his chance to tell Harry how he felt. “I have a crush on a guy…” Draco looked around at everyone’s interested faces, avoiding Harry’s. “And… his name is…” Draco took one look into Harry’s bright eyes and fell apart. “oh, fuck it!” Draco yelled, and pressed his lips to Harry’s.

Gasps flew from everyone watching, but all Draco could feel were Harry’s lips pressed to his. He moved softly, cupping the back of Harry’s head with a pale hand whilst running long fingers through dark hair. The scar-headed boy’s arms encircled Draco’s neck holding him close while they snogged the daylight out of each other.

When they pulled apart, all of their friends were clapping and whooping while they looked at each other, foreheads pressed together.

“It’s about time!” Draco heard Pansy’s haughty tone, but couldn’t care less. And then he realized.

He hadn’t even used the Felix Felicis.

[cutegirlmayra]

Prompt were Sonic's in trouble this time and Amy is going to save him. I know this is going to be hard to keep it in character, but if you can, that'd be nice. Sorry if I'm bothering you

You never bother me, sweetie~ ;)

Prompt:

With the storm beating heavily upon him, Sonic was slammed to the ground once more.

His vision blurry, he tried to lean his head up, but the robot shocked the ends of it’s metallic, blender like hands, and slammed them into the wet ground.

The rain water was so heavily piled up on the land, that the electricity flowed straight through the puddles and electrocuted Sonic.

“AHH!!” He cried out, as the robot lifted his hands up in a quick, cocked jerk from the ground. He spun them around, as Eggman, having a dome over his eggpod, came up alongside the robot and snickered a greedy laugh.

“Looks like nature’s on my side this time, Sonic! Isn’t it sad? The very thing you try and save is against you. WHOHOHO! Now you know how I feel!” Eggman slammed his fist on his control panel, but the water was so fierce, the cold so bitterly chilled, that Eggman rubbed his arms, seeing the breath on the dome make it foggy.

He ‘haa’d into his hands, trying for warmth, before his teeth clattered and he rubbed his elbow on the dome to try and see better.

“Blast this fall rain! Why does it have to be so c-cold!”

“Soooniicc!!!”

“What was that?”

Eggman turned his pod around, as the robot also was looking about before being slammed from behind, a hammer striking it’s back before Amy leaped up to Eggman, freaking him out as she knocked him away.

“WHAT!? WHO BROUGHT YOU HEREEEEeeeeeee…” *ding*

Eggman was hit off out of orbit, but came shooting back to try and slam his eggpod into her.

She grabbed the robot, soaking wet and her bangs hanging down just lightly over her eyes, giving her a very edgy look before she swung and threw the entire robot with one hand up at Eggman.

“Oh cripes!” Eggman pulled back, but it was too late.

The robot slammed into him, it’s blender hands spun out of control and electric shocks suddenly bunched up and electrocuted Eggman from within his pod.

Black steam and a burnt face blinked from within the eggpod, as he coughed and scowled.

“I won’t forget this, HEDGEHOG!!” he flew off, sneezing as he now felt the wrong kind of ‘warmth’… and felt the fried skin hit with the cold to make it even more stinging and excruciating.

Amy huffed in the large downpour of rain, before turning to see Sonic motionless, and quickly rushing to his aid.

“Sonic!” She hesitated a moment, looking him over, before seeing his face down in the water and gasping, turning him over as he coughed.

His muscles had tightened from the electricity, and because of the cold, had locked in place.

Amy didn’t know this though, but just tried to get him up.

When she noticed how stiff he was, his groans and winces at being moved, she knew she could only do one thing.

She refused to drag him, so she plopped him up on her back, carrying him the best she could, wobbling a little to a nearby cave.

She couldn’t get a fire going because of the wetness all around her, so she held him close, breaking the ‘no touchy’ rule as she knew that with two bodies, the warmth would be enough to keep them alive during the night.

What was he doing way out here? Battling Eggman under such conditions?

She wondered this, before feeling his breath on her neck.

His head was over hers, straight as his muzzle lay at the crook of her neck, breathing silently as she tried to rub his back and get him some warmth.

She had followed the cries of pain all the way to him, her heart and running keeping her warm during the cold rain storm, and having been worried about him that whole time.

Was her instincts that told her that he was unwell? Probably hurt or lost?

She didn’t know, Sonic didn’t usually get lost, but she felt the need to find him.

It was stronger than ever now that she was beside him, holding him intimately as she was, but she knew it was more to warm him then anything else.

Still… she had never been this close before.

She found herself falling asleep, but shook her head, refusing too.

If she fell asleep, they could both die of cold.

she moved him away a moment, straining as she did some sit-ups, getting warmth at her core to make sure she could keep him going too.

After a few hours, she was growing sick.

Her back was towards the cave’s entrance, and everything windy and wet was splashing out on her back, keeping her freezing but she knew Sonic would be alright.

He trembled in his sleep, but this made her all the more persistent in keeping where she was.

He had to be okay… he just had too…

—-

Sonic slowly opened his eyes, seeing the morning due before he noticed the hail outside.

Hailing? In the morning?

The weather was super trippy, but was shocked him even more was what was beside him, breathing faintly, looking exhausted and chilled to the bone; like stone…

“Wha!!” He flinched, leaning up and away as he felt fine, a little cold, but alright.

Amy was shivering, her eyes squinting and her muzzle looking red with fever.

Something was wrong… what had happened again?

He raised an eyebrow, wondering how he even got into this predicament.

He squinted his eyes to her, trying to remember the night…

Eggman.

The thought immediately triggered other memories, and suddenly, Sonic was swarmed with an anxious feeling of helping Amy.

With his muscles back to normal, he quickly moved to examine her, reaching a hand to her forehead.

He hesitated… uncertain… but then concern moved passed that as he realized with a slight uncomfortable relief that he had spent the night in her arms.

Touch shouldn’t exactly be an issue right now.

He lightly put the back of his fingers to her forehead, and flinched back, wincing with a harsh, breathy sound.

She was like ice!

“Hang on,… Amy!” He whispered, bending down to say it before darting out.

Getting pelted with hail, he held a hand up and flinched at the hits that made it through, gathering what little dry wood he could find and slipping time and again on the heavy amounts of puddles all around his feet.

The landscape had turned into a marsh overnight.

He ran back to the cave, slipping and sliding but trying to keep the few sticks he could fine dry…

Rushing into the cave, he quickly lit a fire, using his own sneakers to rapidly up some friction to do so.

A trick he had learned a long time ago on his own. Which,.. he was very proud of.

He put his shoes back on, since they were fully dry from all the rubbing and scooted Amy closer to the fire, turning her back to it.

She smiled in her sleep, as if she knew.

He smiled too, sighing in relief, before deciding body-warmth was best right now.

He was worried about all the things that could go wrong…. ammonia for example.

How long had he been out?

He slid close to Amy’s side, and then cautiously… trying to figure out what to do, he moved his arms through her hair and over her body, pulling her into a close hug and then rubbing his hands at light-speeds to try and get warmth back into her.

He wasn’t worrying about her reaction to all this.

This was survival.

She did it for him.

He was meant to do it for her.

“Come on, Amy. Come on.” he softly chanted, looking to her face, seeing her condition not lighten up, and continuing to try and spread warmth through her.

“That a girl.” he saw her suddenly trembling, a good sign that she was feeling the warmth returning, instead of the numbing he knew the cold was doing.

He began to grow tired again, and after rubbing her boots to give her feet some warmth, he sighed and leaned back, just holding her, feeling his body give way since he did get up in quite the alarm.

Resting a moment, he closed his eyes and put his head to the top of hers, and waited…

It was long before her breathing came back to normal. Some sneezes and some coughs.

She even slowly blinked her eyes a moment, before drifting back to sleep.

She had saved him from a similar fate. It was his job now to keep her from it too.

Her back was warming up and he peeked through the slits of his eyes, feeling the fire with his arms and reaching towards it.

“…Y…Your back…” Amy softly spoke out.

“It’s fine.” Sonic smiled lightly, seeing her revive from the frost.

“B…But.. HA-choo.” she sneezed, sniffing and then turning to pull him over her.

“W-woah!” he stopped her, pushing his arms out. “Amy! You need the heat!”

“You’ll… you’ll catch a cold…” she coughed a moment, and he gave her a stickler’s eye.

“A cold, huh?” he sarcastically stated, seeing her condition.

“Emhmm.” he nodded, seeing her fade in rushed strength as he now held himself over her, no longer fighting her as she seemed to slowly move her head back down, her eyes closing into a restful state again.

He sighed, lowering himself over her, “You’re the one I’m worried about…” he then turned, pushing her closer to the fire before she woke up again, looking around.

“It’s warm…”

“Good. That’s how it’s supposed to feel.” he crawled up beside her and laid down, letting out some air from the effort.

He was still tried too… still a little cold.. but better off than Amy was.

“I… Heh.” she smiled, closing her eyes again. “Almost forgot how that felt.”

He looked up, that comment sending a wave of gratitude and guilt over him.

“…Thank you… Amy.” he stated, eyeing her with a look she hadn’t before seen in him.

Amy turned to try and get a better look, raising her head up towards his gaze, scanning his eyes.

“…I appreciate it.” he had his head straight again, but this time his chin was to the ground, not her neck.

His face looked exhausted, but also, strangely humble in appearance.

His eyes half-opened, looking to her with a sense of, possibly, love in them.

“If you hadn’t of come… I may still be face down in the mud… or worse, heh.” he gave a pity-chuckle, before turning away from her.

“Eggman might have actually gotten his way…”

“Sonic…” she lightly spoke, lifting a hand up to him.

He looked back down, and greeted her hand with a smile.

“You really are stubbornly loyal to me… aren’t you?”

She smiled back.

“Just madly in love. You know.” she lightly shrugged, with the best of her effort, anyway.

“Same diff.”

[cosplaytutorial]

I'm currently having a dilemma were I feel like I'm "too late" to cosplay. As if, everyone who is already cosplaying has mastered it and become presentable, where as I'm just starting out and don't even light a candle to most of the crowd. I really adore everyones craftsmanship, and it's an incredible hobby to be apart of. But no matter how many tutorials I see I feel like I simply don't have the skill/talent to put together a cosplay, or as if I can't be a beginner. Has anyone been thru this?

Hello there!

Sorry that you feel that way about cosplay. It should be something fun, but if you feel inadequate, that can take away from it.

Know that it’s perfectly okay to be a beginner. Cosplay is a growing hobby, and people are getting into it all the time. There’s no shame in being new! I’d guess that the cosplayers who are relatively new at a con probably vastly outnumber those who have been doing it for 5+ years (who outnumber those of us who have been doing it 10+ years, etc.). Just remember that there’s a reason why you see so many “cosplay 101″ panels at cons, and why help sites like this one can exist: because so many people are getting into the hobby or looking for ways to get into the hobby that this kind of thing can be sustained.

The thing about skill is that it’s something that comes with practice. No one is amazing at something on their first try. It takes time and experience to get good at something, and it’s hard work. You can’t compare yourself to someone who has been cosplaying for a number of years and has more skills and more resources than you. Only compare yourself to your previous self. Did you learn how to make a new type of clothing, even if it’s not perfect? Great! Your next version will be better. Did you have a problem with something and it didn’t turn out? That can be discouraging, but you learned something from it, and now you can apply that knowledge to future projects. Reading tutorials will only get you so far. You have to actually do things.

Also, there’s no shame in starting small. You want to get into cosplay but can only do minimal sewing? Modify pre-made garments. This can also help you learn how things are constructed. Make simple outfits to begin with. Most complex costumes are just lots of simpler sewing techniques put together, and while this takes time to do, it can help to think of a more complex outfit as smaller pieces rather than as a big complex whole. Your first cosplay doesn’t have to be (and shouldn’t be!) a super elaborate hand-beaded Sakizou design, for example, or a full suit of armor. Learning how to make simple things so that they fit well and have clean construction will be much more useful and much more impressive in terms of construction than trying to tackle something far outside your skill level.

It also helps to take things slowly and set reasonable goals. Say you want to make a whole costume in a year. Set a goal so that you make the skirt one month, the bloomers another month, the top another month, and the accessories another month. Take your time with the items, and remake them if needed. Break down each piece into even smaller pieces – make your goal for that week to learn to sew a zipper, or learn to sew elastic, and then work your way up to the more complex princess seams on the top, and then the more complex boning in the top, and then the most complex item, such as a small bit of embroidery. Make mockups and practice pieces (I /still/ make practice pieces for new techniques) so that you can do the technique a few times before doing the final piece. Learning skills in small, manageable chunks will make it less overwhelming, and you’ll learn how to put things together in a practical way that can then be applied to a more complex outfit next time.

You can also enter a contest that has a beginner skill division. Ask for advice from the judges on how to improve. Attend a con in normal clothes or a storebought costume and see how you feel about that. Take some of the pressure off, and refocus a bit on other aspects of cosplay before tackling a project.

Also, keep in mind that a lot of what you see online and the viral images you see of cosplays are the “best” images – the most impressive construction, the best photography, and any “flaws” are often hidden in creative photography or photoshopped out, etc. (Of course, “best” is super subjective here, and there is no “best” way to cosplay, hence the quotes, but I think my meaning is clear.) The average cosplay at a con doesn’t look like that, certainly not while walking around the floor, and there are a lot of beginners around, or people who cosplay for reasons other than the construction, and there is nothing wrong with that. I’d actually recommend looking at con coverage photos and videos, or digging through the tags for local cons. You’ll often see photos here that are hall shots (not staged photoshoots), usually taken by fans of the series because they like the character, not because the cosplayer looks like they just stepped off a movie set. Look at photos and videos of crowds and gatherings. You’ll see a lot of cosplayers there of all skill levels – you’ll fit right in no matter what your costume looks like. 

And hey, a lot of attendees will see your costume and be amazed by it even if you only see flaws! People are often just excited to see their favorite characters, or don’t notice all of the tiny things that went “wrong” that you might.  

It can be hard to deal with feeling of inadequacy, but you’ll get to the level of skill you want to be at faster than you think if you continue to work at it. Here’s the secret: a lot of artists (cosplayers included) are hardest on their own work. Even someone like me, who has been cosplaying for nearly 15 years, deals with these feelings. The secret to overcoming it is not to look at other people’s work (”this person is at a way higher level than I am and they just started!” or “I’ll never make anything that amazing!”), but to look at how far you’ve come, and what you are proud of in your own work. I’m a pretty practical person, so if I ever do feel that kind of inadequacy, I usually stop, identify where I can improve, and set out to do those specific things. Even then, you will see your flaws, while others will see your strengths. Learn to identify your strengths and appreciate them, and work on the things that you see as flaws. Know that no one can do everything perfectly, and learn to embrace that.

I mention my own experiences here because you sound like the kind of cosplayer I am. I’m the type who has the most fun with the construction aspect of it, and has fun trying to plan out and problem solve a cosplay, and then showing off all my hard work. Not everyone places as much personal importance on those aspects of the hobby, so this kind of advice doesn’t really apply to those who have different versions of fun. This answer isn’t meant to be a “you have to have good construction to be a good cosplayer” response, but since you specifically want advice on construction skill, I would guess that you’re the type who likes to make things.  

You’ll get there, but remember that you are always allowed to be at the skill level you are at. Always.  

—Fabrickind / Q&A Staff