#favorite color is mint green

[micromime]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! WOOOOO

Because of this new year, what do you folk want to see more of? I enjoy making everything, and if you guys want more goofy animations or would like to see more regular art, I would be happy to comply. :) I also take requests n such, so,,,, feel free. Will get to them,, perhaps... For anyone who has sent a request I will get to them soonish.,,, maybe

[bittybatarts]

fool that i was, thinking i was going to draw all FOUR of my auraboas... not happening this took forever

anyways i love them so so dearly i think i might end up with a lot of these.

[silvreflames]

nesta isn’t necessarily kind to most people initially but she is incredibly thoughtful and will remember everything about that first interaction with a person for the rest of her life

[yourlocaltrashcannn]

[bonefall]

Hello. I’d like to play a game.

Before you are antagonistic cats from arc one, you’ll notice they’re dark brown tabbies, all but Darkstripe and Scrouge. The rest are Tigerstar, Brokenstar, Dustpelt, Mudclaw and just to lump him into the game, Hawkfrost.

Your goal is to tell us what changes to their fur color you’d make to break up the lineup of the same look. You may make them solid colors, bicolors or even just lighten them from dark brown to light, pale or plain brown tabbies, they just can’t remain both dark brown and a tabby. It’s entirely optional to make them make sense with their family tree or not. You are allowed one skip should you choose to use it.

Ok Jigpaw but after this you need to change the elder's bedding. No more building fancy mousetraps before dawn patrol.

Tigerstar needs to be a tiger. I wouldn't mind making him black-and-orange but I feel like he's the one that's too iconic to change

Hawkfrost also needs to be a tiger imo, I do like lynxpoint Hawkfrost whose points "rise" the more corruption he experiences from Tigerstar though, until he's a full clone. But easy fix; white tiger. White with black stripes.

The Erins keep trying to make tabby dustpelt happen. But it's not going to happen. Imo he is a dusty-brown cat with darker brown or even black points. This isn't even a change I'm just correct about this.

For Mudclaw I'm gonna be deadass, white and brown are actually MEGA appealing colors to me. One of my favorite colorschemes. Brown is underrated. Make him another brown points-cat but this time he's also piebald, so his brown spots look like mud puddles. His toes are all dark brown, almost black, like he splashed around as a kitten and it never washed out.

So Brokenstar is gonna get one of my FAVORITE color patterns on an animal, straightup just because gold and brown are underrated as color schemes

do I have a reason to turn Brokenstar into a golden cat with brown stripes and flecks with fiery orange unders? Yes. The reason is I do what I want

Anyway there's your free OCs, feel free to take whatever inspiration you choose. Now get to that bedding!

[carewyncromwell]

Ginny 🤝 Carewyn

1994 was an incredibly eventful year in the Wizarding World. Although yes, one could've surmised as much in response to the terrifying Death Eater attack after the Quidditch World Cup Final between Bulgaria and Ireland, no one outside of the Ministry really knew just how much was planned for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry until the term started. One hint, however, could be found in the students' list of necessary school supplies for the year ahead -- new to the list this year were a proper set of dress robes, appropriate to a formal event. And upon receiving her list of school supplies, Ginny Weasley was delighted to learn from her mother that her oldest and favorite brother Bill's best friend, Carewyn Cromwell, had volunteered to help her shop for some dress robes.

"Now, Carewyn said she might not be able to buy you whatever you want," Mrs. Weasley said bracingly. "You know she doesn't earn any more than your father...and while renting a flat in London, no less! But she thought that some new robes, even on clearance, might be a nice belated birthday gift..."

Ginny wasn't the least bit unhappy by this. Not only had she assumed she'd have to wear something of her mum or aunt's, but the thought of going out shopping with Carewyn was enough to make the thirteen-year-old bounce with glee. She always liked it whenever Carewyn visited the Burrow as it was, but being able to spend some private "girl's time" with Bill's best friend was beyond exciting.

And so a few days before term started, the youngest Weasley dressed in her favorite dress, jumper, tights, and boots, and then thundered downstairs to the fire. She even ended up running into Ron and Harry on the stairs, and -- after biting back her blush as best she could -- she darted away toward the kitchen before Ron could make too much fun of her for it. Once it was 10 o'clock, Mrs. Weasley walked Ginny over to the fireplace so she could send her on her way to the Leaky Cauldron, where Carewyn would be meeting her. Bill and Charlie were both there to see her off too.

"Tell Carey we said hi," Bill told his sister with a smile.

"Better yet, force her to come back to the Burrow with you when you're done," Charlie added more forcefully.

"Oh, Charlie," Mrs. Weasley scolded, lightly batting him on the arm. Once she had, though, she said as an aside to Ginny, "Do try to invite Carewyn back over for a visit, though, Ginny dear -- while your brothers are still here..."

Ginny couldn't help but grin. "Okay."

And with this, she grabbed some Floo Powder, tossed it at her feet, very clearly shouted, "DIAGON ALLEY!", and disappeared with a flash of green flame and smoke.

When Ginny climbed out of the Leaky Cauldron's Floo grate a few seconds later, she immediately found Carewyn standing there waiting on the other side of the grate. The ginger-haired lawyer was as pretty as always with her trademark bright red lipstick, dressed in a crisp, white collared shirt, thigh-length black skirt and a tailored black waistcoat.

At the sight of Carewyn, Ginny's brown eyes lit up like miniature suns.

"CAREY!"

Carewyn had to open her arms quickly so as to catch the smaller girl as she threw her arms around her, squeezing tight.

"Hi, Ginny," Carewyn couldn't bite back a full, amused smile.

Ginny looked up at Carewyn, unable to keep the huge, giddy grin off her flushed, sooty, freckled face.

"Bill, Charlie, and Mum say hi," she said at once.

Carewyn's blue eyes sparkled knowingly. "Is that all they said?"

"Well, Charlie also told me to force you to come back with me to the Burrow," Ginny said through her giggles. "Mum wants you there too."

Carewyn rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling as she sighed. "I'm sure she does...for very different reasons than Charlie, I'm quite sure..."

She took out a handkerchief and set about wiping the soot from Ginny's face.

"Yeah..." Ginny laughed a bit uncomfortably, "Mum just hasn't gotten it through her head that Charlie's not into dating. But well, it wouldn't be so bad if you and Bill dated, right? You're already best friends! And if you marry Bill, then he could come home and take a desk job at Gringotts, and you could both live in London together!"

Carewyn tried to smile instead of cringe, but the effect was weakened by just how much she avoided Ginny's eyes. "Ginny, I love Bill only as a friend...and the feeling is more than mutual on his end. I have little interest in marrying anyone as it is. And even if I didn't, Bill and I couldn't be more different, in what we'd want in a romantic relationship."

Giving birth to a lot of kids, for one -- talk about the last thing I'd want to do...

Ginny deflated, clearly a bit disappointed.

"If you say so. ...I still think you'd make a brilliant Weasley, though," she said with a grin.

Carewyn smiled wryly. "Well, fortunately, your brothers have treated me like one for quite a while now."

Tucking her handkerchief back into the inside of her jacket, she then turned on her heel, glancing back over her shoulder at Ginny.

"Well, come on, then," she said stridently. "I thought Madame Malkin's would be the best place to start. Twilfitt and Tatting's supply is very pretty, but we're less likely to get as much for our money there. And remember, we can always modify what we find, if it's not a perfect fit...I'm sure your mother would be happy to help with that..."

Ginny eagerly followed along after Carewyn out of the pub and into the rest of Diagon Alley.

The two gingers headed to the famous robe shop, where they immediately moved to the clearance racks at the back of the room. Ginny was actually really happy to see just how much Carewyn and she were able to pick out from that rack that they both liked and Carewyn could afford -- even those ensembles that were three times the amount of Ginny's second-hand school robes weren't out of reach, which made it so that Ginny ended up having a stack of eighteen pretty, affordable dresses in her size that she could try on. Some of them didn't suit Ginny -- the flashy, patterned purple, gold, and green one overpowered her small frame, while the cream-colored one completely washed her out. Others were made of uncomfortable materials, were too revealing, or required a larger bust size to look right.

Eventually, though, Carewyn helped Ginny pick out a golden yellow dress with wide bell-shaped sleeves and navy-blue and burgundy panels on the skirt. Carewyn had originally thought to go for something more delicate, but upon seeing how easy it was for Ginny to move in it and how happy she was twirling the skirt around, Carewyn decided it ultimately was the best choice.

"Do you think it'll do?" Ginny asked a bit more self consciously, as she looked at Carewyn's reflection in the mirror.

"Of course it will," Carewyn said gently, as she took a mint-green dress with pastel pink details she hadn't liked very much out of the stack and returned it to the rack. "Even if it's cotton instead of velvet or silk, it's cut flowingly, and the colors are much brighter than standard robes."

Ginny held the skirt out, sweeping it back and forth as she considered her reflection. Noticing the younger girl's hesitation, Carewyn came back over to stand behind her, smiling at her in the mirror as she talked to her.

"Most importantly, you're comfortable in it," she said with a small smile. "We always look our most beautiful when we're comfortable and having fun...and in dress robes this comfortable, I would think dancing the night away would be very easy to do."

Ginny looked up at Carewyn's reflection, startled.

"Did you say dance -- ?"

"I suppose Bill didn't mention the time he stopped by briefly to the Celestial Ball, in my fourth year," Carewyn said airily. "A shame -- he did quite a nice job fixing up his own dress robes, for that party..."

Ginny's face was flushed with excitement as Carewyn gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"Dress robes are only worn for formal events, Ginny, I haven't said anything that shocking," she said in a rather droll voice. "It's only sensible to presume that an event of that nature would involve dancing."

Despite saying this, her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. It made Ginny grin from ear to ear.

"Suuuure," she said sarcastically, before bursting into giggles. Carewyn herself only smiled more wryly.

"Well, then, have you decided on those?"

"Yeah!" said Ginny.

"Good -- let's get them bought and paid for. Then I can buy you some ice cream before sending you home."

Ginny had gone behind the curtain to change -- when she'd pulled the robes up and over her head and could peek around the curtain properly, she looked a bit disappointed.

"So you're not coming back home with me?" she asked.

Carewyn offered Ginny a sad, sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Ginny, I have work in less than an hour. The Minister has requested my professional opinion on the validity of possible libel charges against Rita Skeeter..."

"Libel charges?" Ginny frowned.

"Put simply, Fudge didn't like Rita Skeeter trash-talking the Ministry's response to the attack at the World Cup and wants to know if there's any way he can make her shut up," Carewyn said very coolly.

Ginny couldn't help but scoff around her smile as she went back behind the curtain. "I bet Dad wishes she would too, after all the fuss she made. Reckon there's any chance Fudge could do it?"

"No -- her words in that article are protected under current law, given that she framed the more sensational comments as rumors or speculation from unnamed witnesses. Not to mention that Fudge going after Rita Skeeter would only give her and her writing more attention in the press, not less."

Ginny gave another low scoff from behind the screen. "I guess it's like Dad says: bullies love playing the victim -- then they can act like all their rotten actions are justified..."

The youngest Weasley came back out from behind the curtain, holding her new robes under her left arm and taking hold of Carewyn's arm with her free right hand.

"Well, you'd better write a proper apology to Bill and Charlie for not coming back with me," Ginny said pointedly. "I know Charlie will be mighty disappointed. Mum too."

"I will try very hard to get together with both Bill and Charlie before they leave Britain," Carewyn said levelly. "After all, I've missed them too."

Ginny grinned again, clearly pleased by this. Once Carewyn took the robes from Ginny and paid for them at the desk, she handed the bag holding the robes back to Ginny and the two gingers headed out of the shop.

"Carey?"

"Yes?"

Ginny gave Carewyn the biggest side-hug she could muster with only one arm completely free.

"Thank you," she said, beaming. "Shopping with you was so much fun. And my robes...you were right before, they are perfect! I can't wait to dance in them! Maybe I'll even get to dance with...well...somebody cool..."

She blushed a bit, clearly a bit self-conscious at this thought. Carewyn's eyes softened as she brought the smaller girl up against her side affectionately.

"I'm glad you like them," she said gently.

Ginny gave Carewyn another squeeze as she grinned up at her through her ruby red blush.

"...Say, Carey, did you and Bill dance at that Ball? The one you mentioned earlier?"

Carewyn cocked her eyebrows. "No, we did not. My date for that Ball was Andre Egwu, actually."

Ginny's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "The Keeper for Pride of Portree? But -- but I thought he liked blokes -- "

"Primarily," Carewyn said with a dry smile. "And I primarily like my independence -- hence why we didn't last."

Bringing a hand down onto Ginny's shoulder, Carewyn then started off down the street, coaxing her along behind.

"Now come on -- I said I'd get you some ice cream, and I only have a half hour before I'm supposed to clock in."

Friendship Drabble Prompt!

[delightfuldevin]

You wouldn't happen to have a design concept for Dragon Koopa Devin would you? I've seen your human Bowser and he's very cool and I just wanted to know if you have a design already in mind for your half of the species swap? For reasons and also Reference for me

I do technically have one(1) single drawing of me as a Dragon-Koopa, but it is very old and it’s on my poor old laptop that I didn’t feel like getting and turning on again…

So I simply drew up a new design right now instead :D

[saturninemartial]

Treating myself to some acrylic nails tomorrow, I'm thinking mint green? 🤔

[oysterie]

I rly don't like seafoam green except those photos I really like those :]

[vydumaj]

it’s been like a year and a half I still find it funny that the dark forest green color that’s become my trademark on clothes and accessories is now the official Hightower green…I have no choice but to share it with them; at least Alicent looks good in it

[cantevenbeachhere]

True or false, pink is your favorite color?

-🐡

Wow! You two are like on the same brainwave, huh? That’s pretty cool actually.

And see, this is a hard question because I have more than one favorite! I really like pink but I also really really like light blue and mint green. Those make me happy too!

So I guess it’s true but like only to a point?

True or False

[peppermint-3]

Nighttime city phone background I made

Very pretty I'm proud

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, dehumanization, patronization, condescension

♡ fem reader

This is his playroom. It’s got puzzle-piece foam flooring and is filled to the brim with all sorts of different toys—including you. He’s got stuffed animals, pretty dolls, toy soldiers, Lego builds, and a gaming station with all types of fun—and parental safety restrictions, of course, no talking to strangers for you. Your controller is a pretty baby pink, and his a cool camo-green. But today, they’re left on the floor, untouched.

Because today, he only wants to play with you.

“You’re gonna be so pretty…” His voice is as grating as always—synthetically childish, making you grit your teeth. Sitting with you between his legs before the mirror, working diligently.

You look at the floor to avoid your reflection.

He’d gotten you a brand new baby-blue dress and painted you himself—done your eyelids up in matching clear skies, black lashes moth-like and fluttery, cheeks a rosy pink, and lips a sheer gloss extra plump and pretty—no need for tint—you bite them so cutely, they’re already his favorite color. Your hair’s done up in curls and ringlets, so bouncy and soft, beribboned with plentiful white bows.

“This color suits you so well. Makes you look like a cake-topper. Bite-sized. I could eat you right up.” He hums behind you, fiddling with the many intricacies, doing them up perfectly—no rush.

Looking up, the person staring back at you looks no different from a life-sized porcelain doll. Pristine, mint condition, fit to be put behind glass. In your frilly dress, petticoat and stockings. Just like Alice down the rabbit hole.

The only thing that betrays the illusion is the leather collar on your throat and the chain running from it to the middle of the floor. But no matter.

He’s got a giddy smile on his face— chest swelled with pride at his work. You’re his most prized possession. You really are! There isn’t a single toy in this room that can compete with you.

He’s not wearing anything special to match. Bedhead, undressed, still in his pajama pants. Why wouldn’t he be? This is his playroom, after all—his downtime—where he can be a boy with his toy. Though, calling him a boy isn’t exactly right—what with him being nearly in his thirties. Not to mention that he’s about two heads taller than you, with abs like an athlete, toned and chiseled and hard to the touch, hard enough to strain your wrists when he bears down on you. Oh, and that thing in his pants.

You bite your tongue and steal yourself. It would be easy to cry, but he only gets weirder about it then. So you stifle it, even though you look so stupid you want to act like an animal. Tear the dress to shreds and rub your makeup into a mess—scream, bite, spit on him. You’d done all that once before to no avail other than punishments that still keep you up at night. Once was enough. He didn’t play nice with you.

But then again, when does he ever?

“Hmm, think I’m done…” he announces after having dallied with the lace of your corset for a quarter-hour—it’s so tight you have to appreciate every breath. “Time to have some fun.”

He treats you no different from a doll either. Scooping you up into his arms like an inanimate object and carrying off to the princess bed—the one that looks like a girl’s birthday cake with a veil on top, and mountains of pillows all too soft.

He places you down on top of the duvet and it seems to swallow you like an ocean. He dives after, covering you like a fishnet. You take a final breath before he can drown, your hand on his chest, holding him at a distance.

“I was thinking, uhm…” you start, the words coming out odd, barely recognizable as your voice—only noticing now how long it had been since you’d spoken last. “I was…” you restart, but it’s still no easier. His eyes are large and unblinking, staring down at you as though he’s just as surprised as you are to found out you speak. “Hoping we could play… a little differently this time?”

He blinks at the request, having fallen completely still above you.

“Really? How?” The suddenness of his words make you flinch. You don’t know what you had expected—maybe a smile and something dismissive. It had been a while since he’d spoken directly to you like that—and not to himself in absentminded comments about you.

You recover some time, seeing him stare down at you all expectantly in wait. He follows when you guide him into sitting instead of looming over you, putting yourself in his lap—straddling him. “Mh, like this. Maybe?”

It’s a gamble. He’d never had you on top before, nor ever shown an interest in it. Setting aside the time you’d been sprawled on your belly over his thighs, his hand riddled in your hair and his other hand branding your ass with his very own toy company logo.

His expression is unreadable—perhaps a little confused if you were to take a guess.

“Oh!” he erupts with a smile you hope is the good sort. “You mean I play the toy and you the master?” He laughs brightly, falling on his back with a hand over his face, cackling through his fingers as though it were the most absurd proposal he’d ever heard.

But despite his obvious amusement, you still feel it—his toy poking into you from beneath.

He settles after a moment. “Alright then, why not?” Looking up at you—his hair a tousled mess splayed upon the bed, eyes as gleeful as the quirk on his lips. “Who knows… it could be fun.”

He props his arms behind his head, lounging comfortably.

“I did call you a cake-topper, after all,” he snickers. “I’ll lie perfectly still, like a good toy, while you play with me. Sound good?”

You can’t believe how open he was to it. Still a little apprehensive, you nod your head.

And then the game begins…

He doesn’t exactly stay true to his word. But you suppose that would be too much to ask. His head still rests pretty on the pillow with his eyes closed, smiling in satisfaction—for now, sated with your performance. Groaning in absentminded bliss, “You’re right. This is fun~”

But he hadn’t stayed perfectly still like he’d said. He’d reached out when you’d finally begun riding and now his arms keep you snug against his chest, fine-pressed sweaty skin against your frilly bust, more in a lock than a hug. It makes it kind of difficult to do what he wants, but you try your best—knees and toes planted in the mattress for stability as you jerk your hips on his lap. It’s awkward, but riding him like this is still better than the alternative, after all.

You keep your arms around the back of his neck, resting your face in the cradle it creates beneath his chin, panting lowly—eyes closed in focus away from the pain, brows tight with your tongue between your teeth, trying to maintain the rhythm despite the blossoming ache that’s started to spread from your hips down your thighs—another ill sting in the small of your back crawling up your spine. It’s hard staying bent over like this, and your movements are turning sluggish…

There’s a sigh from above you, pitchy and just awful. “Aww, is it really time already?” he whines—previous satisfaction dwindling—bordering on something else entirely now, the opposite and so much worse—boredom with a hint of disappointment—a spoiled child with a toy that’s run out of battery.

You shake your head, burying your face in his neck and tightening your grip, stealing yourself with newfound strength to maintain the tempo you had before while muffling out a desperate, “No, I can keep going—”

He lets out another sound, this time in thought. “Hmm...” It doesn’t give you much confidence—how lax a sound it is—as if he isn’t even close to being spent yet. “I don’t know… You’re so slow. I’m gonna get soft if this is all you got, y’know?”

He starts moving—sitting up. He takes his own hold on your hips, and you know what that means. And you can’t handle being played with, not when he damn near breaks you each and evert time.

“No, wait! I can keep going, please, just a little longer?” you insist, both palms pushed flat on his chest with your round eyes looking at him hopelessly in plead for a second chance—even though you know he isn’t one with the patience to give you one.

He stares blankly back, big-eyed in surprise at your outburst. Though still not convinced it would be worth humoring you. If he was being honest, he’d enjoyed it more than he thought he would but had now had his fill and wanted to take charge as usual and finish the job. However…

Oh, you’re being so uncharacteristically cute today—and that pathetic look of desperation on your face is truly something else…

He smiles deceptively softly, so brightly it reaches his eyes. He very nearly looks innocent like that, but you know him too well—so well that the sight of his lips curling gives you nothing but a churning stomach.

“Okay then, doll. You convinced me.”

Suppose it doesn’t hurt letting you have your way sometimes. You have been on very good behavior lately, after all. He ought to reward you.

“I’ll be your toy a little longer.” He murmurs with a lazy smirk, nose-kissing you—patronizing, as though he’s doing you a big favor.

It doesn’t grant you any peace, and neither does the way he keeps his hold on your hips, rubbing smooth circles into the fat leisurely, letting you know he wouldn't be removing them—it serves as some type of encouragement as you start moving again.

It’s easier now when you’re upright. Holding his shoulders, you can jump rather than buck—up and down, up and down, up and down—it’s simple enough. Or it was for a moment, at least, before he planted your hips down.

“Not like that,” he shakes his head softly. “Like this.” He moves you after his will, wanting you to grind instead—putting you back in square one.

Your movement staggers, and you mask a wince with a moan—fuck, your muscles are so sore, maintaining this movement is enough to make your loins scream, feeling all but set on fire.

With one hand keeping you seated, the other takes hold of your leash and pulls you in close, his lips on the dew of your rouge-dusted cheek—you feel the grin, and like prey threatened by a hunter’s teeth, you shiver in respect of it. “Come on, dolly, ride or die, faster,” he simpers, voice laced with mockery and amusement.

Your thighs are shaking now, tightened up in anguish, begging for a break—soon to take it without your permission. How much you can take reaches a point, and everything goes slack not a second too soon.

“And now you’re done,” he snickers hotly under his breath, planting a kiss on the side of your glossy lips while you exhaustedly and gingerly take your break with a feeling of defeat. He speaks low, and you dread every eerie lick of his words, “My turn to play.”

You want to protest, but you know it’s no use. He’d made up his mind now, and challenging it any further would only turn you into a nuisance—toys are supposed to enjoy being played with, after all—best take it with grace and shut up before he reminds you.

He flips the both of you around with ease, reclaiming his spot—on top. He loves you like this, splayed out beneath him like a puppet—just waiting to have all your strings pulled.

It was good while it lasted, you think—maybe if you get better, you can make him finish and not have to endure what comes next.

“Don’t pout, dolly—that was fun,” he kisses you lips as they start to tremble. “But you suit being my toy so much better.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo ♡ HQ – Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[ultravioletbrit]

“coffee” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 618 words

“He doesn’t like coffee. He likes tea; no milk, two sugars.” James interrupts the random guy that’s been trying to ask Regulus out for coffee for the last ten minutes.

“Oh, okay… well, um…?” The guy looks at James then back to Regulus and raises his eyebrows with an unspoken question. Regulus just gives him a small shrug. “Right… um… I’ll just... I’m going to… yeah…” He mumbles, then just turns and walks away.

“Quite the linguist, that one.” James says with a small laugh.

“How did you…?” Regulus questions as he turns to look at James.

“You looked kind of stuck, so I thought I’d give you an out if you wanted to take it.”

“No, I mean, how did you know my coffee order, or lack thereof?”

“Oh, well, I sort of just pay attention sometimes.” James shrugs.

“You pay attention to me?” Regulus asks as he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Maybe… but not in a creepy way… I just like to know what people like, I guess.”

Regulus tilts his head and narrows his eyes at James. “What else do you pay attention to?”

“What do you mean?”

“You pay attention to what people like. What else do I like?” Regulus challenges.

“Um…” James swallows nervously. “Your favorite color is green.” He says it almost as a question.

“Everyone knows that.” Regulus says as he rolls his eyes.

“But you don’t like dark green, you like lighter green better, sort of like the color of a green apple.”

Regulus raises both eyebrows, slightly impressed and takes a step closer to James.

“Hm. What else do I like?”

James still seems slightly nervous but gaining a bit more confidence at the same time. “You don’t like tomatoes, but you love tomato soup.” James’ voice starts to get a bit softer.

Regulus tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows, it’s an odd choice but accurate, nonetheless.

“What else?” He takes another step into James’ space.  

“You like white chocolate more than milk chocolate, but you like that you don’t have it very often because then it’s sort of special when you do have it.” James starts to whisper as Regulus moves even closer.

“What else?” It’s barely a breath as he gazes into James’ eyes.  

“You don’t like when this curl falls forward.” He reaches up to tuck the curl behind Regulus’ ear.

Regulus doesn’t respond, he just hums and leans into James’ hand a bit. James moves his other hand down Regulus’ arm.

“You wear your jumpers a few sizes too big because you like when the sleeves fall over your hands.” He intertwines their fingers and continues-

“You like to paint your nails black, but you like it better when you paint them pink, but you don’t do that very often.” James quickly glances down to Regulus lips then back to his eyes. “You don’t like it when your lips get dry, so you always keep chapstick in your left pocket. You like the mint flavor the best.” James says it so quietly Regulus only hears it because he’s barely an inch away from him.

“James…” Regulus says just as softly. “What else do I like?” He breathes with a heated look in his eyes.

“Do you maybe like…?” He bites his bottom lip with a small smile and before he finishes the question, Regulus is already nodding.

“Yeah.” He says with a soft smile. 

“Can I…” James’ smile grows slightly bigger as he flicks his eyes down to Regulus’ lips again.

“Yeah.” Regulus can’t help but smile back as James closes the final distance between them with a soft, slow kiss. 

When they break apart Regulus smirks slightly and says, “You taste like coffee.”

James’ smile grows impossibly wider.

“Sorry.” But he doesn’t seem sorry at all as he leans in to kiss Regulus again.

[chocostrwberry]

Nathalie Sancoeur!! The one on the right is just an alt design I was playing with. Ft. Faceless Gabriel!

More info below!!

I made her more monochrome because the Agreste family is very black-and-white, so I made her basically fit their house and their sense of style. It would also be interesting to see how Marinette collides with Adrien’s world; she also wants to be a fashion designer, but her projects are very fun and odd and non-traditional. She also puts lots of care and love into hand-making all of it, contrasting to his father who just approves and doesn’t approve designs. So she unconsciously represents him leaving his prison/comfort zone and experiencing something new and unfamiliar!!

Side fact: The mint green undershirt he’s wearing in his redesign wasn’t part of the originally planned outfit; it was supposed to be just the grey pants and the black polo. But he wanted to wear his favorite color (green) for the first day of school so he snuck it in, and Nathalie allowed it.

Bonus: Nathalie with black eyes and a more “plum” color palette

[andyoullhearitagain]

Top Ten Least Bad Outfits in TNG

I'm gonna be honest and say that the non-uniform outfits in TNG are not my favorite costume design in the world, but there are some looks that stick with me:

10. That Girl Who Kissed Data That One Time's Outfit:

I can never decide if I like this look or I think it's ugly, but I love the pants and tall boots combo. Her blouse is bad and the bouclé jacket is both too heavy and too fussy for this outfit, but I love the belt and suspenders combo, and the chevron embossing on the suspenders. This costume and all the others except #9 is a Robert Blackman design.

9. This Jumpsuit On That Girl From "The Dauphin":

This is the only William Ware Theiss design on this list. I love his TOS stuff but most of his TNG designs leave me cold 🤷‍♀️. But I love this is extremely 80s jumpsuit. Love the pretty drape, love the ruching on the sleeves, love the harem pants silhouette. Only note is that the whole bodice should be a structured corset bodice instead of the kind of odd structured panel it has now.

8. Picard's Shorty Pyjama Set:

TNG is absolutely full of the strangest pyjama choices you can imagine and Picard is no exception but I love this bold look. Would kill for this pyjama set. He also takes a work zoom wearing this one time which is insane.

7. Data's 1890's Looks But Specifically This One With The Shirtsleeves And The Blue Shirt:

The best part of "Time's Arrow" is that Data isn't a fish out of water in the 1890s, he's absolutely killing it, and I love that the only real Casual Data look we get is this one. I prefer the blue shirt to the pink because Data should really wear more blue, it's a nice contrast with yellow. Please also note his emerald watch fob, which was 0% necessary to blend in, he's just having fun with it.

6. 12 Year Old Keiko's Linen Overalls:

The paperbag waist! The bow! The little bows at the shirt cuffs! I can understand why she replicated a miniature copy of this outfit.

5. Beverly and Guinan's Dixon Hill Holodeck Costumes:

I'm counting these as one because they're essentially the same design in different color pallets but what color paletts! Bev is pulling off the very difficult pink+red+red hair and the mint green on Guinan is 🤌. I particularly love how Guinan's hat is so 1940s yet also echos the silhouette of her usual costume.

4. Deanna's Teal Dress:

Like all of you I prefer Deanna in the uniform, but this dress slays, ok? The space age asymmetrical neckline. The drop waist. The structured bodice. The slit almost all the way to the hip. And of course the matching tights and shoes CANNOT BE BEATEN. Also one time I saw a dude on a Star Trek forum call this a "ballgown" which baffles me to this day, this is clearly a slightly fancy day dress.

3. Picard's 1890s Look:

You'd think Picard would go full posh in the 1890s but instead he gives us this working-class Shakespearean director look and he 👏 looks 👏 incredible 👏. Way to mix textures, Jean-Luc.

2. Lore's Turtleneck and Giant Vest:

You and I know that Lore stole these clothes from the Pakleds because we pay a lot of attention to Star Trek costumes, but to a normal viewer Lore shows up and this is just his outfit!! It's giving, like, space-age goblincore and it's incredible. I want wear this oufit every day. I want to make a little doll Lore wearing this outfit to express my love for it. It's only not #1 because the pants are too orange and a strange weave.

Deanna's Ancient West Holodeck Outfit:

Deanna!!! The pants! The hat! The calico! She looks 10/10 hot in this outfit. For sure the superior version of this is before she gives her neckerchief to Worf (it really benefits from that cool highlight) but either way this is the best anyone's ever looked on that holodeck.