#but i have yet to find a rarepair that wasn't amazing

[sga-owns-my-soul]

Do you have any thoughts on Evan Lorne/Lindsey Novak? They’re such an obscure rare pair (that I’m obsessed with atm)

i didn't until right now and now i'm also obsessed with them oh my GOD

they would be so fucking cute????? and SUCH a power couple!!!!!! lorne knows everything about running atlantis bc he does his COs job all the time and novak could easily run the daedalus on her own oh my god yes this is everything

i've got an hour left of work and i will be picturing them taking over and stealing the daedalus for the city and just being the biggest most badass power couple

[not0a0mundane]

Made a fill for @cake-shop-rarepair-bingo you can find it on ao3 with the link Innocent like a flower (Serpent Beneath) - Mun404 - Star Wars - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own] or under read more.

Prompt: Theather/Cabaret Au (Macbeth Au) Fandom: Star Wars Relationships:  Qui-Gon Jinn/Darth Maul Rating: T Content Warnings: Child Abuse mention/reference Summary: Qui-gon hears about a propercy and decides to tell it to his ambitious husband.

"I can't remember the last time we had such awful weather on such a victorious day." Obi-wan heard his old friend say. They were walking away from the battlefield, having tended to the wounded and dead, they were left without a goal until it was time to return home. Obi-wan was about to ask for a way to Forres when he spied some figures in the distance.

"What,, who are those people?" Three figures were walking towards them, they bore the resemblance of an old bearded man, a young bald man and a beautiful young woman. But something about them was unreal, an eerie feeling that almost raised the hairs on his neck.

"Are you living?" The words left Obi-wan's mouth before he could consider them, and in return, the figure of the woman smiled with faint mischief in her eyes.

"Speak please, if you're able." Qui-Gon's voice sounded next to him. The taller man stood a few steps away and looked at the figures with a curious eye. Of course, his friend would find something interesting about three strangers approaching them unannounced. Then the strangers spoke.

"Hail Jinn, Lord of Glamis."

"Hail Jinn, Lord of Cawdor."

"Hail Jinn, who will be King."

The figures spoke clearly, one after the other as if they shared one breath. Obi-wan looked at Qui-gon, hoping that his eyes showed the amazement he felt. It wasn't every day someone claimed to know your future, and that it would have anything good. And yet, it seemed that Qui-gon didn't share his sentiment, as his friend's face had gone almost as pale as the sky above them.

Obi-wan turned towards the figures, asking why they seemed to share their tale with only one of them. He regretted asking as soon as he felt the strange and somehow human but yet not, figures looking at him.

"Hail, Lesser than Jinn but so much greater."

"Hail, Not so happy yet much happier."

"Hail, Who shall get kings yet be none."

The creatures had once more spoken in strange unison, Obi-wan almost faltered back from their sight but tried to bravely stand his ground. For a moment the creatures stood still, observing the reaction of the men. Qui-gon must have come out of his shock, as he tried to take a step towards them, asking them to tell him more about his future, and as he did so they disappeared For a moment they both looked at the spot where the figures had stood.

"Where did they go?" "Into the air." Came Qui-gon's simple answer, as if that answered everything.

"Did that happen? Or rather, will it happen?" Obi-wan whispered, trying to gain an understanding of what had transpired before them. "It must have been a dream, we must have eaten a root that takes the mind prisoner." He said finally, deciding that such a fantasy could only be the work of an ill mind.

He turns to Qui-gon, expecting the older man to have come to the same conclusion, but once again, his friend takes a fairy tale more seriously than reality. Obi-wan could only imagine how Qui-gon's husband would indulge in his nonsense. Once again did Obi-wan thank the Force, that it had brought him Satine.

///

Qui-gon hadn't even made it two steps into his house before the door behind him closed and his husband was in his arms again. Soft lips pressed kisses all over his face, tickling him with their feather softness.

"Great Glamis." A kiss pressed between his brows.

"Worthy Cawdor." A whisper of a kiss against his lips.

"Greater than both by what you will be." Finally, his love looks into his eyes, and as always the warmth of his husband's eyes made Qui-gon melt.

"My dearest love, how I've missed you" Qui-gon whispered as he took Maul's face in his hands and finally kissed him back.

He had spent all too much time away from his husband, and while the letter he sent explained their future luck it did not hurt to explain it again in person.

////

"The King comes to visit us in a day, he shall dine and celebrate with us," Qui-gon told Maul as they were getting ready for bed. He could see how his husband's posture stiffened up. The King's visits were one that both were unable to stomach, but the title as Thane of Cawdor was one they both appreciated. Maul's father might never have been a good parent, but a kind King he was.

"And must he leave? Must he see the light of day again?" Maul's soft voice flew through the room, piercing straight through him, voicing thoughts he hadn't dared to consider.

"Your face, my dearest lord, is an open book and once you learn the language you may learn of the strangest matters," Maul explained when he saw Qui-Gon's expression.

"My father, the King, our guest, will be provided for and so will we." His husband explained plainly as if he was discussing the meals they would provide for the feast. "We shall bear welcome, in our eyes, our gestures and words." A slight smile sent his way.

"We will speak further about this." Was all that Qui-gon could say, he knew that the power the Weird Sisters spoke about was just in reach but treason like that was not something to contemplate lightly.

"Don't fear husband, leave it all to me," Maul said as he slid up behind him in their bed. Qui-gon sighed but turned around and cradled Maul in his arms, kissing his head.

///

Kenobi sat next to Lord Maul, he never cared much for the younger Zabrak but he'd rather not start a fight with his friend's husband. Nothing good would come from enraging the spouse of one's host.

"My dear husband tells me that you were there when you heard of the prophecy." Maul's soft voice rang next to him, too quiet for anybody else to hear but not for him. He should have known that Qui-gon would share the supposed prophecy with his husband. His friend was always quick to believe tall tales and stories of some supposed future. But dreams were they always, and only that.

"Yes, I heard it." He answered plainly, he knew that Maul was a sneaky one, the unloved son of a kind King who despite all still held a place at court. Why would he ask of dreams, of hallucinations cast by the lack of sleep and exhaustion from battle if not for his own gain?

"And you didn't ask to hear of your own future?" Maul's voice rang quietly with mocking mirth. Obi-wan took a long sip from his glass of mead, the drink was strong and would let him survive the interaction without injury to both parties.

"If you must know, the tall tale of the future was just that. A made-up instance by the tired mind." He said as he stood up from the chair. It was rude to bit farewell like that to one's host, but Obi-wan was beyond caring when it came to Maul. His friend and everyone around them might not see it, but nothing could come out of dealing with the Zabrak.

////

Maul took a deep breath, the dagger clutched in his hands. The guards were snoring softly a few steps away and the night was cold. There would be no one to hear his crime. Then, a sound tore through the silent night, a gurgling sound that was extinguished almost as soon as it began. If Maul hadn't been standing so close then he'd have thought his ears had betrayed him.

Quickly he went into the tent, closing the flaps behind himself. Between him and the King's bed was a single, almost see-through, sheet. It was meant to be an example of wealth, the fabric was decorated with golden embroidery. Now it was decorated with blood stains. He could see a shadow behind the sheet, one that turned to stare at him too.

In one smooth move, they moved towards each other, Maul pushed the sheet away with one hand while keeping the dagger up and ready in his other one. The strange silhouette towered over him, and for a single moment, he could not recognize the person Maul was holding a knife up to. After a moment his eyes adjusted to the light in the King's bed-chamber, and saw that staring down at him were his husband's eyes. His familiar face was splattered with blood.

Maul let his eyes wander down, the simple nightshirt his husband wore was covered with fresh blood. Taking a breath he pulled the knife down and saw how Qui-gon breathed in immediately. He moved away from his beloved and with heavy feet walked towards the King's bed.

His feet knocked softly against the raised carpet, and Maul instinctively took his shoes off to not let mud trace on the carpet. He remembered his father's, the King's, words. His rebukes and lessons marked themselves with welts and bruises on his skin.

A thin, blood-soaked sheet covered the King's face. Maul pulled it aside and was met with the horrified open-eyed expression of his father, his King's. He took a deep breath and turned towards Qui-gon.

"Why?" He asked, voice almost inaudible to his own eyes. Qui-gon looked at him with a confused expression so Maul continued. "He was your King." A harsh whisper that made his husband flinch away from him. A moment passes between them, the silence stretching like an ocean between them.

"He was your father," Qui-gon says as if that was any explanation. As if that gave him the right to take away the murder from him. "So? I was his son but he never treated me like one." Maul said with a mirthless laugh.

Before his legs gave up on him, Maul sat down on the bed. Taking a deep breath he tried to think of their next move. The King was dead, with no heir in sight, the throne would be theirs for the taking. With a last sigh, Maul stood up and looked up at Qui-gon with a determined spirit.

"We shall mark the two sleeping guards with the blood, and give them the dagger as if they have done the crime themselves." He says and looks up into Qui-Gon's eyes.

"It will be received as if they have done it." His husband's face lits up with a small reassuring smile, and Maul starts to hope that maybe they will get away with this. "Who dares receive it otherwise? As we shall make our grief and anger clamour upon his death." He agrees smiling.

[jariktig]

Fandom ask!! 1, 3, 6, 9, 13

list 3 positive things about your current fandom(s)

(a) the sheer inventive enthusiasm for a multiplicity of readings and fanons and ships and - well - everything, really. What's not to love about a fandom that is prepared to adopt at least four ways of having sex, and to deploy more than one of them in the same fic. And I also love the variants where it's not a thing at all, for everybody or for some people. And the number of one-fic wonder rarepairs where the one fic is actively good. I suppose it may be similar in other fandoms, but I think the official everything-is-canon approach probably helps. And there's such a range of tones and content in canon to play with too.

(b) Small sample stuff this, but the people I have met here and their kindness and the ways lots of them leverage their talents to make the world a better place. Which is absolutely a multi-fandom thing - you only have to look at fth for that - but of course I see it here and some of those people seem really special to me.

(c) The art - robots are just hard to draw and lots of TFs very similar because of the way the designs link to the toys and the constraints of manufacturing. And yet there are so many people who make them clearly visibly identifiable (even to my somewhat face-blind self) while creating a really unique style. How cool is that?

And I'll add the thing that got my snobbish would-be highbrow tweenage self into a silly children's cartoon - the joy of the underlying concept of robots who turn into planes and guns and tapes (yes, yes, and cars and trucks and...) and who are people too.

3. a character that fandom has helped you appreciate

Optimus, most obviously. He was the one that my baby brother admired as the hero and my contrary history-is-written-by-the victors-so-this-is-autobot-propaganda reading of all the contradictions in G1 treated most unkindly. But a whole bunch of really good writers have seen him very differently and I've gained a lot from their readings.

6. something you see in art a lot and love

The way people use kibble to express emotions - Optimus' finials for the most obvious examples, but there are loads of others. And the amazing amounts of detail people manage to fit into even the silliest drawings.

9. oh, lots of them. With a few very specific exceptions I'll eat almost anything either / or &. And moreso if you add other bodies into the mix - I can't be doing with Jazz/Prowl in general, for example, but Jazz/Prowl/Soundwave has some lovely stuff. At random, the intra-group Stunticons and Combaticons pairs or groups in lots of combinations, Soundwave/Shockwave, Ravage/Soundwave, Megatron/Ratchet, Grimlock/Starscream, the whole of Decepticon Command in one big tangle, Bruticus/First Aid, Megatron/Optimus/Ratchet... And people have sold me on quite a few I wasn't fond of - for example Vortex/First Aid, Megatron/Optimus/Bumblebee (which is surprising because in general Bumblebee irritates me), Deadlock/Starscream...

13. your favorite type of fandom event (gift exchange, ship week, secret santa, prompt meme, etc)

My favourite favourites are probably the ones like fth and the recent cartoonists' get-together for Gaza and the tf tarot and the Represent zine, where people use their art and writing to raise money for good causes. That feels like getting all the joy of the fan-thing with extra goodness on top. The ones I find easiest to participate in as a writer are the gift exchanges/secret solenoids/etc where you're writing for an individual and you get quite a bit of scoping of what they like.

[hitheryon]

what is ur inspiration

Okay, so!! Pretty much, even before all the Katsucrew and KariBaku was on my mind, I was obsessed with the idea of Katsuki like. having a whole separate life than we see in canon. I mean, it's not that hard to imagine, considering we've seen next to nothing about his personal, outside-of-UA life in canon. It would make sense to some people, since it's kind of accepted canon at this point that Katsuki's whole life revolves around Heroics, but I just never vibed with that thinking, y'know? I mean. Katsuki's a teenager, he's got to have some sort of outside life, right?

And when I started thinking about that, it kind of just combined with my personal HC about Katsuki being gay, and my mind immediately went Secret Boyfriend! Secret Boyfriend! Secret Boyfriend!

That thought alone was enough to get me pumped up, but before KariBaku I was a pretty staunch KiriBaku shipper, so all I thought of was perhaps making up an OC. But none of the ones I made seemed to fit the bill, and I kind of just ended up with this half-thought out concept that was just. going nowhere.

And then. And then. Oh my god, dear lord, I miraculously found what was, at the time, the one and only KariBaku fic out there in English, on AO3. Let me tell you, @pyrrhicwildfire was an absolute genius because that fic dragged me into rarepair hell and I have yet to leave. It was just something about the vibes of that fic, the banter, it stuck to my brain and refused to let go.

And because I was absolutely obsessed, after far too many rereads to count, I put my detective hat on and went searching. And I struck gold. I found this little corner of Japanese, and an even smaller corner of Korean, BNHAtwit and it was. It was phenomenal. I came across too many fantastic artworks, and in search for more, I learned the hashtags, learned the shipnames they used for KariBaku on the Asian side of Twitter, and I just kept finding more and more. And then when there wasn't more? I turned to Pixiv, overturned that for any scrap of content I could find, and then to Pinterest I went.

I really did become obsessed with this ship within a week. It was the greatest thing I'd ever found, and I was so fucking determined to share it!! And now we have a whole server, and amazing content that I look at every day of my life.

This whole thing was such an experience. And the fact that people actually love the 'verse I created out of a character once virtually unknown outside of those little corners Japanese and Korean anitwit, and a bunch of cobbled together OCs I thought up from low-res screenshots I took of the Aldera classroom, it's just. There's no words for how grateful I am to all the people who support this little monster of a concept I created, and the journey this ship took me on was just simply amazing.

I know I kinda deviated from your original ask, but yeah. In general my starting inspo was just the thought of Katsuki with a secret boyfriend, and then pyrrhicwildfire became my ultimate inspiration in writing this ship, and now all my friends in the KariBaku server are what keep me loving this ship <33

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Klaus Mikaelson x Lexi Branson (The Vampire Diaries)

Requested by @insidious-wxlf

Klaus eyes the girl standing alone in the corner of the exhibit. He thinks the word "girl" lightly only because her face is surprisingly smooth and unblemished by the age that he's aware she possesses.

He politely excuses himself from his conversation with an over enthusiastic guest. She doesn't mind in the slightest when her agreement rewards her with a pleased smile that holds the potential of a promise of his return. He's not one to keep a promise.

The girl with the locks of golden curls just stands there, head tilting this way and that. Sidling up to her, he notices her even squinting her eyes a little bit with her lips twisted uncertainly.

"You're not impressed," he says bluntly, and knows he's guessed correctly.

The girl doesn't even turn to him. She merely glances with a sideways flick of her sparkling eyes, like bubbles in champagne, and gives a tittering smile. Familiar and infuriating at the same time.

"Now, did I say that?" Alexia responds.

"You didn't have to," Klaus says flatly, hands behind his back and doing his best to keep his face a mask so as to not seem wounded by the slight poking of a sharp dagger in his chest and his throat. "Your face said it for you."

"Well, I wasn't aware that my face had developed the unheard of ability to speak for me. And with my mouth closed, to add further astonishment."

Klaus rolls his eyes and sighs, already sick of their little game. He waves a hand at the canvas in front of them.

"If you're going to come here and silently judge my work, then, do tell, what exactly is it about it that you find so unimpressive?" he asks. More demands, but one never really demands anything of Alexia Branson. He's learned that lesson before. Many times.

Sure enough, she takes an extra moment to answer simply to spite his tone. He clenches his jaw but stays quiet, waiting.

Then she squints her eyes some more, gives another tilt of her head, as if really examining the flaws in the painting. Klaus even finds himself glancing over it uncertainly. Perhaps it wasn't one of his best. He does recall being rather frustrated with it during the process of creation, and there had been a light squabble between his siblings that he had been made to deal with in between. Maybe it reflected a little too much in his work.

Then Alexia says, with an air of finality on her descision, and extreme confidence, "It's too blue."

Klaus stares at her. "It's too... blue? Your problem with this piece is that there is too much... blue?"

"No, not too much of the colour blue," Alexia says, shaking her head, making those curls move with her, fascinatingly. "It's too blue. Sad. You may has well have just painted a big frown on it and titled it, "My Inner Soul"."

She turns to him and he finally sees the grin stretching across her delicately painted lips. A weight is lifted out of his chest and then he's shaking off his disbelief.

"You're mocking me," he scoffs, a low chuckle starting beneath it in his throat. "To my face as well, a very bold move, I have to say!"

It's her turn to roll her eyes now. "Oh, I'm so scared, Nik! What are you going to do? Kill the only person who actually buys your paintings? Now, would that not just be a poorly-thought out business move?"

She's turned to properly face him now, her head tilted again, and that smile still playing across her lips. It's impossible to hold any displeasing thoughts or feelings inside of him when it feels as though she can peer right into the soul that he questions the existence of. She doesn't. She has no doubt that it's in there -- she's told him as such, time and again, despite his protests and attempts to prove her wrong. She's so certain.

He sputters a bit, fumbling over his words, something in which she finds great amusement. And he finds fondness in her amusement, so really, he doesn't mind too badly.

"Now -- that is simply untrue! I have other buyers."

"Mhm." Lexi hums. "But if that's the case, then why have I been granted the absolute privilege of being allowed to remain... well, undead?"

Klaus considers it. In truth, he's snapped necks for lesser insults and grievances.

But he looks at Lexi, and his mind instantly softens his hands to caress the delicate skin of her neck instead. He can see the places where his lips have left love letters, once reread over and again, now tucked away beneath the surface of her skin to be kept secret.

An odd feeling posesses him for a moment longer than he'd like. Similar to the time one vampire got brave and made a grab for his heart, managing to get their idiotic little fingers wrapped around it for just a moment. They had just started to twist when their head had landed on the other side of the room, courtesy of a well-timed Elijah.

It's that feeling. The twisting of his heart, phantom fingers around it like it's some kind of ball for them to play with, just to give the strings a little tug.

It's an aching, hollow feeling right in his chest and down a bit, where no one should be able to reach.

He swallows and draws his eyes away from Alexia's unmarked neck, back up to her still sparkling eyes. She raises her eyebrows at his delay in answering.

"My god," she says, widening her eyes with feigned amazement, "I've actually rendered the great Niklaus Mikaelson speechless. I wasn't sure anything could ever make you stop talking -- if you don't inflate your ego, who else will?"

Klaus' mouth twitches at the corner and he allows the smile to blossom into another chuckle. He shakes his head.

"Precisely, my love," he says, but he is too soft, still caught up in his thoughts, where the desire to be gentle always won out.

Alexia doesn't bat an eyelash. "So, am I going to be walking out of Chicago with a head then?"

She's kidding, of course. Teasing him because they both know that he's never had a single desire for her pain in any form. Even the thought of it makes his gut twist like someone has stuck a dagger in it and forgot to remove it.

"I'd rather you didn't walk out of Chicago at all," he confesses before he can think.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be. Alexia was simply a fellow vampire he stumbled across during a darker period. Many vampires have come and gone through his many centuries, many during much worse times in his life, and yet she's one of the rare few who got stuck in his mind. Her gentleness, the way he softens just by being near her or thinking of her and how she'd react if he made a particularly unpleasant descision.

Finally, she's the one who's caught off her guard. "Oh," she flusters. "Um... I mean, I don't have to go right now. Kind of got forever. So... I can stay."

Klaus nods. "Good. I'd..." he clears his throat, but the words seem to have lodged themselves firmly in there.

Alexia's grinning again, leaning in closer. "What was that? That word you were going to say? You'd...?"

Klaus clenched his teeth again but it's partly to keep his smile from stretching like it wants to.

"I'd advise you quit while you're ahead, dear Alexia, or--"

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?" she interrupts. "You sound like your brother when you call me Alexia."

Klaus actually is wounded this time. "Point made. Lexi it is."

She smirks, and says, "Good. Now, you were saying that I should quit while I'm ahead?"

"Which would apparently be always," Klaus concedes.

Lexi laughs, looking rather pleased about it, too. Such cockiness on anyone else would infuriate him. With Lexi, it's more fond exasperation. If anything, it's a good look on her and one he always takes pleasure in.

"I would be very happy if you were to stay for a little while longer," Klaus says, finishing his thought.

Lexi beams at him. She tilts her chin up and takes his arm, surprising him as she hooks it over her own.

"Then it is a very good thing that your happiness actually means something to me," she says. "Now, show me the rest of your paintings. And I want less sadness! Show me your happiest one."

Klaus peers at her for a moment. She just smiles that beautiful smile at him.

"I know just the one," he says, and she gestures for him to lead the way.

[doyelikehaggis]

Rowing the Rarepair Rowboat: Luke Patterson x Willie (Julie and the Phantoms)

Requested by @phoenixfidelity

Luke can't help but be distracted every so often. He can tell that it's starting to get on the rest of the bands nerves every time he misses a chord or he accidentally glances away from the lyrics so he misses a word and then the whole thing is forced to an abrupt halt. He's really trying to stay focused.

Usually it's a piece of cake! He loves the band and he loves playing, because he gets so lost in the music that he forgets the rest of the world exists half the time.

He catches sight of Willie out of the corner of his eye again as they're building up to the chorus of the new song they've been working on. Luke resists the urge to look away from the notebook in front of him.

His fingers keep moving determinedly... while his eyes dart off to the side. It's just a split second, then they're right back on the page, and he hasn't missed anything!

But his mind is quickly taken over by the brief glimpse of Willie that he got. He's just sitting cross-legged on the studio floor, hair tied up in a messy bun, nodding along to their music while he paints. While wearing one of Luke's hoodies. He found it lying on the back of the couch when they came in and he said he was cold, and so he asked if he could borrow it, and Luke wasn't going to say no, was he? That would be rude!

Besides, the orange actually really suits him. It matches the streaks of yellow paint on his cheeks--

Luke quickly glances back over. Sure enough, there is actually paint smeared across Willie's face. And a paintbrush in his mouth while he carefully paints with a different one. He's so focused, his eyebrows scrunched, his foot tapping to the beat on his knee--

Luke catches the mess up in his chords but not before he can stop it. He abruptly stops playing, the rest of the band once again halting along with him.

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to--" He takes a deep breath and looks determinedly down at his guitar. "Let's just go again, yeah? I'll get it this time, I promise."

"Yeah, I don't think you will," Julie says, and Luke's surprised to find her smiling rather than being mad about it. She and the rest of the band share a look.

"Probably better if we take a break for now," Reggie agrees, clearly trying to suppress a smile of his own and failing miserably as he lifts his bass strap over his head.

"I'm... getting kinda hungry anyway," Alex lies, nodding way too eagerly.

Willie looks up for the first time since their last brief pause. "Are you guys done?"

Another look is shared. Luke shakes his head vigorously, staring at them all in disbelief.

"No! No, we're not! Come on, we still have to practice this song or else we're not gonna have it ready for tomorrow!"

"You'll be fine!" Flynn assures him, hooking an arm around Julie's shoulders. "You guys sounded great! Well... most of the time."

"Yeah, you were really good," Willie agrees, beaming at them with such sincerity that Luke's heart melts under the rays of sunshine he radiates when he turns it on him.

He barely notices Reggie muttering, "And that's our cue..." and the four of them scattering around the studio, and practically leaving the two of them alone.

Luke doesn't know why they're acting like this. So, yeah, he keeps getting distracted from the music. But he's trying to stay focused! It's not exactly going to help if the rest of them just decide to give up!

He sighs and decides he may as well put his own guitar aside for the moment.

"You okay?" Willie asks with a slight laugh, but his eyes are concerned when Luke glances up at him.

His stomach flips over like a pancake. It's weird but it's been doing that a lot lately and he can't seem to figure out why. Maybe he's coming down with something? That would be super inconvenient timing considering they have a gig tomorrow!

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Luke says, but even he feels like he's somehow lying even as he tries for a grin.

Willie isn't buying it either. He takes a moment to think, his eyebrows only creasing the tiniest bit this time as his thumb rubs a circle into the crease of his elbow. Luke finds the movement strangely calming to watch.

Then it stops, and Willie lights up. "Well, since you guys are... taking a break for the time being, do you wanna help me with this?"

Luke finally tries to take a proper look at what he has actually been doing this entire time as Willie moves over to sit beside him on the couch.

There's a poster -- multiple, actually, as well as what Luke swears is a pile of what were once his guitar picks. He doesn't really play his acoustic too much anymore because it never sounds right with any of their songs, and his fingers just got used to the feel of the strings on his electric, so there wasn't ever really a use for them anymore.

Willie notices him picking up one of the plectrums and turns sheepish. "I found them lying about in here and thought they could use a little... sprucing up." He shrugs. "I didn't think anyone would really mind."

Luke shakes his head and grins as he picks up another in amazement. Each one is painted, and not just a solid colour, but a whole piece of art is painted onto each one. Scenes of bridges with the sunset behind them, fields full of vibrant plants, a starry night sky, a gh--

Luke raises his eyebrows at him. "Is this meant to be me?"

Willie peers at the one he's holding up which features a ghost silhouette wearing an orange beanie with a guitar strapped around its translucent little body.

"Yep," Willie confirms, then breaks out into another sheepish laugh. "I got a little bored of the fancy designs, and I thought that it would be funny, seeing as how you're, you know, Julie and the Phantoms."

"So," Luke glances at the pile of plectrums, "did you do one for all of us?"

"I haven't gotten around to it yet. I wanted to start with you 'cause I figured you'd make the cutest ghost. With the beanie and all."

Luke's stomach does the thing again. And he swears his face is burning up. He better not be getting a fever, because the thought of getting sick right before a gig is giving him a little too much deja vu.

"Does that mean you don't think I'm a cute ghost when I'm not wearing the beanie?" Luke teases, mock serious.

Willie laughs, caught in surprise by the question. But he shakes his head, gazing at Luke with creases around his eyes and a soft smile.

"No way. It's, like, totally impossible for you to not be cute."

Luke laughs as well now and gives him a gentle push, his hand lingering on Willie's arm. "Shut up."

"I got you smiling, at least," Willie points out.

"Yeah, well." Luke doesn't really have anything else to say because he's right.

He looks at him for a second as Willie shifts his attention back down to the posters and plectrums. Luke doesn't mean to stare, but there's something about watching his fingers move that feels... comforting, even when they're just moving a stray bit of hair behind his ear.

"Have you ever played guitar?" Luke blurts out without thinking.

Willie looks back up in surprise but shakes his head. "No. I like listening to music and sometimes performing with Caleb was fun but that was only ever singing. I've never really gotten the hang of an instrument. Takes too long to figure it all out."

"What if I helped?" Luke asks, not fully sure why he's offering. "I'm not saying perform with us. I'm just saying it could be a fun hobby, if you had someone helping you figure it all out."

Willie considers it then shrugs, beaming at him again. Luke's beginning to think he needs sunglasses just to be around him because he finds himself grinning back before Willie's even answered.

"Yeah, okay. Let's do it! But I will warn you, I'm not the most patient person."

"Good thing I am then," Luke says.

"No he's not!" Reggie shouts over to them from the other couch in the corner.

Luke glares at him but Reggie just raises his hands with a confused expression as if to say, what did I do?!

Rolling his eyes as Willie laughs, Luke says, "Don't listen to him. We can practice later and use my old acoustic, that way it'll be a bit easier and you can use one of your awesome designer picks."

He gestures to the pile and Willie scans over them, looking for one to use. Then he picks up the one with the ghost version of Luke on it.

"A great choice, if I do say so myself," Luke says, grinning. "Now, what are we painting?"

Willie hands him a paintbrush and one of the posters. He explains the design and they both start working on them. At some point in between Luke finishing one and Willie just adding a few last touches to his own, Luke tries experimenting on one of the blank picks himself.

When he shows it to Willie, his eyebrows raise and he almost doesn't seem to know what to say for a second. Then his face splits into a smile of pure joy and Luke doesn't think he's ever felt so pleased with himself as he does watching Willie gush over the little ghost hovering over a skateboard like it's the best thing he's seen.