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September 2017

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Day 7

In your own space, create a fanwork. Make a drabble, a ficlet, a podfic, or an icon, art or meta or a rec list. Arts and crafts. Draft a critical essay about a particular media. Put together a picspam or a fanmix. Write a review of a Broadway show, a movie, a concert, a poetry reading, a museum trip, a you-should-be-listening-to-this-band essay. Compose some limericks, haikus, free-form poetry, 5-word stories. Document a particular bit of real person canon. Take some pictures. Draw a stick-figure comic. Create something.

Oh, boy. I didn't know what to make. Here we go:


Marvel | Clint Barton/Scott Lang | PG-13 | 659 words | Summary: Getting hitched in Vegas is such a cliche, but here they are.

Of Consequences Unforeseen

The night comes flooding back to him when he opens his eyes, a mess of noise and flashes of neon. The sunlight streaming in is annoyingly bright. Clint is sure his hangover is going to kills him if he doesn't get any coffee and at some aspirin in his system. As if on queue the mattress dips beside him and a big white china mug is trusted his way.

Clint moans both in pain and satisfaction. "Aw, I want to say thank you but I know you're the main culprit of my current state." He maneuvers so he's sitting up with his back pressed to the wall behind them without spilling coffee. He kicks Scott when the bastard begins laughing.

"I do not deserve such violence. I made you coffee and let you sleep until noon. I should get an award for being the best husband ever," Scott says. His mischievous grin is temporarily hidden by his own mug. Clint throws a doubtful look his way, he is not going to fall for Scott's innocent act he knows him way too much. It's a blessing Scott's coffee is basically nectar for the Gods otherwise Clint wouldn't be here. He so wouldn't.

"Wait," Clint says lowering the mug, Scott's words finally reaching the part of his brain that's awake. "Either I'm still super drunk or you just called yourself my husband."

Scott scoots closer taking Clint's hand in his and lifting them up in order for Clint to take a hard long look at them. At their fingers. At the shinning, matching, silver bands. Oh, no.

"Tell me we were screwing around and--"

"We were screwing around, when are we not? But one thing led to the other and boom, marriage." Scott is way too calm, Clint hates him a bit.

"And you couldn't stop us? I never planned to get married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator." Out of everything the Elvis part sounds awful.

"I was as drunk as you. And don't worry, it was actually an Iron Man impersonator," Scott says pulling out his phone to show him pictures of the happy event. Clint's brain blanks officially giving up. Iron Man. Wedding. Husband. He's going to pass out. "Just so you know, Stark already has backups of these pics." There goes his idea of deleting the evidence. He doesn't even need to know how he got them. He's never going to let Clint live this down.

He lets out a long sigh, falling back against the soft pillows around them. He drinks his coffee in companionable silence with Scott. It's possible if he hand't thought using his free time from The Avengers to go to Las Vegas was an amazing one, he wouldn't be in this situation. But then again knowing them, they could've ended up drunk and marrying anywhere else in the world.

"It was a matter of time," he mutters. Whatever, it could be worse.



Scott narrows his eyes. "Anyway, I hope you're ready to go back. Apparently our teammates thought it would be fun to throws up a bridal shower, whatever that means."

Clint groans. "I hate the world."

"Don't worry, it'll be over sooner than your think. Now," Scott says taking the mug from him and pressing him down on the mattress in one swift motion. Clint supposes is not so bad having Scott on top of him, messy hair and rumpled clothes, all heavy and warm. "We passed out before we had our wedding night. I still don't know how me made it back actually."

"Huh. We didn't? That's a shame," Clint says pulling Scott down, his lips brushing against Scott's.

"Yeah," Scott mutters. He tastes like coffee and toothpaste. Mint-y and bitter. Clint sort of likes it. He also sort of doesn't mind being married to Scott if he thinks about it. He'll do that later.

"That's interesting. I think we need a wedding morning."

"You read my mind."


Because Spideypool is alive, omg.
 photo spideypool01_zpsgecrtnie.jpg
 photo dp03_zpsfhobyvyh.jpg

And my love Dinah <3
 photo bcicon5_zpsgvizlliz.jpg

Day 8

In your own space, make a list of at least 3 things that you like about yourself.

🌈 I don't give up easily and persevere when I find obstacles.

🌈 I'm a curious person and I love learning new things.

🌈 I'm an animal lover. If I had the means I'd adopt every cat and puppy I find on the streets. Both my kitties are rescues and I couldn't love them more. I wish more people adopted from shelters instead of buying. I know some of you have done it and I feel grateful for that. You're awesome!

Day 9

Send feedback to two fannish people — they can be anyone you want: a writer who’s made you happy, a moderator of your favorite exchange (not us!), a fanartist you avidly follow… There are so many possibilities. Just let someone know you appreciate their work.

This is actually perfect because one of my goals this year is leaving more feedback on fanworks I enjoy.

So...DONE! 😊
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