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KWOceans last won the day on January 15

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About KWOceans

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  • Birthday December 4

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    Mer, and Mcraft's Mommy ^-^

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  1. I feel like most writers can relate, lol. In fact, on the topic or writing and relatable statements, I feel like this sums up what it is to be a writer in a nutshell, lol.
  2. Then it's settled. Don't hate on my ship and I won't hate on land urchins.
  3. Mer also don't care much for spiny sea urchins, but you don't see me hating on you, Hedgie
  4. KWOceans

    My Human is a Rescue…..

    There is no version two. Kem is one of a kind . However, his brethren are likely equally epic and wonderful creatures.
  5. Everyone who ships it say 'Aye' XD Also, I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I don't know if I'll be able to effectively pull off the love square in the same way the show does and it might be a bit more back burner in this since there are other elements involved, but I can't help feeding my ship just a little, lol.
  6. I know, right? I ship it. I ship it HARD. And the show is toying with all the viewers with that ship. Just let it sail already! *Dies*
  7. Is that an Awwwww as in something cute or an aw of disappointment, lol?
  8. KWOceans

    My Human is a Rescue…..

    Hey, it's actually kind of nice seeing something done with this universe. You've put a new twist on it too. The translator definitely makes for an intriguing interaction. I'm interested in seeing where you take this. PS. Put a dragon in
  9. Chapter Seven Marinette kept one hand pressed to her purse as she walked down the hall, gently of course so she wouldn’t hurt Tikki. She couldn’t shake the eerie queasy feeling in her gut that something was off, though she kept trying to pass it off as simply her meal not quite agreeing with her. After seeing the abuse exacted upon that poor girl last night, she’d instantly understood why Chat had done what he’d done and she didn’t disagree in the slightest. But it definitely exposed him. Any questions or speculations about the culprits were just confirmed or redirected and it terrified her. Being Ladybug was wonderful and liberating, but often without the mask, Marinette was often shy and skittish. She chewed her lip. She knew that there was little to no chance that she could be tied to it and even if she could, certainly not this quickly. She secretly wished he could have been a bit more discreet. They could have followed the woman and helped the Little when backs were turned. She sighed. She knew there was nothing to be done about it now, and Chat Noir had only done what he believed was right, what they were supposed to do anyways, and it was better that the Little was out of harms way as quickly as possible. But she knew it was a dangerous gamble he’d taken and she could only hope it wouldn’t blow up in their faces. Was it too soon to send Tikki back to the Guardian for advice? She shook her head. There would be time for that later, she’d feel more comfortable keeping her Kwami close. Walking into her class, Marinette walked straight to the back of the room and plucked up the small stepping stool kept in the corner. It always managed to get shoved haphazardly into a crooked space between two sets of supply cupboards even though she was meticulous with returning it after every class. She grunted softly as she tugged it free. It was plastic, so it wasn’t heavy even though it was literally half her size and she felt a little ridiculous lugging it over to her chair, but it was far less silly than the legs flailing scene it took her to haul herself up onto the Amazon sized seat without it. Setting it down, she climbed the two steps up onto the chair. Thankfully, while kneeling, the desktop wasn’t too tall for her to reach. She set her notebook down on the surface and flipped it open. The rest of her classmates were filing in and taking their seats. She was the only Little in the course and went largely ignored aside from the occasional prodding or bullying when the young Amazon adults saw fit to notice her for a few minutes. Most of them were chatting in small clumps about weekend activities or current inspirations or projects. None of them spoke to her and she was fine with that. She looked up, however, when the professor walked in. She almost liked him, for an Amazon he wasn’t half bad. He was far more interested in the art of the craft than he was in the stereotypes and generalizations between their two peoples. Sure, he still belittled her a bit, but she never felt it was totally intentional so it was sort of endearing in a twisted way. He didn’t hinder her from taking the class and graded her the same as the other students at least. She valued that. The class gradually quieted over the next minute or two and all focus was on him. Professor Picard clapped his hands together and grinned at them all. “Time to discuss your highly anticipated end of term assignments. Now before you all jump to the argument that we’re not even a third the way through semester, you should all know it’s never too early to be thinking about your finals, and it will be forty-five percent of your final grade. You’re each going to be paired with an up and coming model or minor celebrity, all of whom have volunteered to work with you. Your goal will be to design, produce, and stage a three outfit line that best suits your partner’s image and tastes. They’ll all be shown off in an end of year show where the winner will receive a special invite to a top tier summer course, as well as a guaranteed extra ten percent on your final grade. You will of course, be graded on creativity, design, quality and production, and of course, how well the designs suit the model you’re assigned.” There was an eruption of murmurs among the group. It was definitely an exciting draw. Working directly with a model to produce up and coming designs that were going to be shown in public was a very appealing concept for a final product. “Oh, I hope I get paired with a darling Little. There are so many adorable Little models that would be grand to work with,” one girl piped up. Professor Picard cleared his throat. “Sorry to say, Julie, but you’re being paired with an Amazon model. Of course working with Little fashions is always appealing, but it will be a better show of your talents to work with a larger canvass. So everyone in the class will be paired with someone of similar stature to themselves.” Of course, at his statement, several pairs of Amazon eyes were suddenly fixated on Marinette. She visibly shrunk in her seat. Of course. She’d be the only one working with a Little, and of course that likely meant coming up with degrading designs. So much for the project being fun. She listened with half attention as the man listed off pairings. One by one, the class dwindled as her classmates departed with the partners already waiting on campus to begin discussing ideas. Despite having a last name higher on the alphabetical list, she was the last to be called. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but Professor Picard always called her after the Amazons. She assumed if there were more Littles, it would be a separate way of categorizing. It didn’t matter though. It meant she drew less attention during presentations, since no one paid attention by the end anyways. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he called finally and she looked up once more. “You’ll be working with Adrien Agreste.” Instantly, her heart sunk. She’d known working with a Little wouldn’t be pleasant. Not because she had anything against her own people, but Little models tended to be overly infantilized with overbearing mommies or daddies. But Adrien Agreste was the last option she wanted to end up with. She didn’t know him well, but she knew of him. He was a free Little, so far as she knew. Unclaimed. And yet he willingly modelled baby fashions and products. It soured the reputations of Littles everywhere to willingly partake. She watched with a bit of an irritated expression as the blond haired Little walked into the room. To his credit, Adrien was wearing a simple pair of jeans with a black shirt and white jacket. Nothing demeaning, she didn’t think she could handle meeting him like that. With a soft sigh, she closed her book and climbed down off her chair. She chose not to glance at him as she returned the step stool before reluctantly approaching. Adrien smiled at her and offered a hand. “Marinette, right? I’m Adrien. I guess we’ll be working together.” “Guess so,” Marinette agreed, though she didn’t shake his hand. “Let’s go, might as well find someplace quiet to start.” “Oh…uh, okay then,” Adrien agreed. She almost felt bad at the deflated tone in his voice. She wasn’t a nasty person by nature, but it was hard not to dislike someone who so openly supported the heinous treatment of Littles. They ended up in the courtyard. The sun was warm, beating down on Marinette’s face in beams between the leaves of the tree she currently had her back leaned against. Her knees were drawn up, sketchbook balanced on her knees, while she chewed the end of her pencil. She’d drawn some designs for adopted Littles before. She acknowledged it was likely she would be hired for it many times in the future and it wouldn’t serve her much use to pretend that wasn’t a truth and neglect practicing, but in this instance, she was at a loss for inspiration. She sighed. Her annoyance grew when Adrien flopped down next to her, his breath tickling her arm as he peered over at her book. “So what are you thinking you want to do? You must be pretty good if you’re still enrolled in this particular program. I’ve heard they really try to weed Littles out in years one and two. For you to be in third year is really impressive.” “Yeah well, I try not to let my size hinder my dreams,” she grumbled back. She pressed her pencil too hard against the paper and the tip broke. Hissing in annoyance, she fumbled in her pocket for the sharpener. As she glanced down, she saw her purse open. Tikki was staring up at her with wide eyes and a slight frown on her face. “You’re not being very nice, Marinette. What’s wrong?” she whispered. Marinette shook her head at the Kwami. She didn’t expect the tiny sprite to understand. She knew it probably wasn’t fair to be so judgmental, but it was hard to struggle through the day to day and look someone who flaunted it by toying with the things most Littles were forced into. She could barely look Adrien in the eye. “Have I offended you?” Adrien asked. Marinette jumped a little, her gaze whipping back to him. A blush began to color her burning cheeks. “It’s hard to jump with joy at meeting someone who mocks Little independence. Choosing to dress as you do, do what you do. It’s offensive.” Adrien pulled back a little and frowned. He shook his head. “I don’t choose to model baby attire, Marinette. I do it because I have to. Because my father expects me to.” It dawned on her then and her blush deepened, shame surging through her. She’d judged him unfairly. “Your father is Gabriel Agreste,” she acknowledged. Gabriel was powerful in many industries including fashion. If Marinette weren’t a Little, she might have even idolized the man. She often forgot that Adrien was a Little born to an Amazon and one of the only Mids left in the country. It was a marvel he’d been allowed to grow up at all. “I-I…I’m sorry,” she stammered finally. “That wasn’t a fair assumption for me to make about you.” Adrien shrugged. “It’s alright. Happens a lot, honestly. Littles don’t care for me because of what I model most of the time, Amazons treat me like I’m a child, my father ignores me most of the time so long as I don’t embarrass him. I’m used to the loner life.” Seeing him with new eyes, Marinette’s heart softened. She offered her hand to him now, returning the ignored handshake from earlier. “I won’t make that mistake again. Friends?” “Friends,” Adrien agreed, taking her hand eagerly. Her blush deepened even further and her heart fluttered in her chest for a moment. The way she’d treated him, he could have ditched her easily enough to fail her project or at the very least been nasty back. Instead, she was staring at a boy who for some unknown reason was offering her a smile and forgiveness. She didn’t know a lot of people that kind. It was really rather refreshing. “So, do you have any ideas?” Marinette pursed her lips. “That depends.” “On what?” “Whether I should do what I want to do or what I’m expected to do,” she admitted. “If I do what I want, I have a lot of creative inspiration I’d love to bring to life. But the project is supposed to fit the model and you’re not exactly known as a progressive Little model. My grade will probably suffer if I take the mature styles route, plus I’d lose any chance of the winning prize.” Adrien paused for a moment, even brought a hand up to stroke his chin. “You could do both,” he said. “Give them the line they want, and make one for yourself too, no restrictions. I’ll happily mannequin for you. It’s been a very long time since I’ve gotten to work with someone who is actually willing to chat with me too. You know, without pinching my cheeks. Plus, my father approves of this use of my time so he won’t question it and I’d get to spend more time out.” Marinette grinned. It would be more work, but it would also be a wonderful portfolio build and she actually really enjoyed making outfits. “Founds, I mean sounds. Sounds like the begging- beginning- beginning of a good partnership,” she forced out. She blushed again and rubbed the back of her neck, unsure as to why she was suddenly tripping over her words. She grinned sheepishly at him. Adrien looked a little stunned for a moment, but then a smile spread across his face too and he began to chuckle. Marinette, desperate for an out to her self-induced embarrassment, laughed with him.
  10. Was just having a little fun drawing Tikki, lol. She looks kinda cute in a diaper and bonnet. I plan to do Plagg too. For everyone not familiar with the show, Tikki and Plagg are the magic Kwamis, the little sprites that follow Marinette and Adrien around.
  11. Lol. Story of my life sometimes. Don't you hate that? When you can see the finish line but the middle stretch wants to keep you there and it's like slogging through mud? I swear, that's half the reason I finish far fewer stories than I start, lol. XD But this is a rather unique twist on the diaper dimension and it pulls off second person POV rather well. Highly impressed. I'll definitely be one reader eagerly rooting for another chapter.
  12. Ahem! Now, is that any sort of language to be using sweet pea? Besides, no one's touched a hair on Alya's head....yet, lol. I'm glad you're enjoying the story thus far. It's actually been more of a blast to write than I originally thought it would be, so it's nice to see people liking it as much as I am. I'm just debating internally now how I want a sort of reveal to go....dramatic seems like a fun way of doing it, but passive seems more in character.....hmmm.
  13. KWOceans

    Done Adulting, Forever? (Chapter 19 posted)

    Oh now I'm curious. What was said? This was a really sweet chapter to read too. I like the budding friendship between Jamie and Rosie too. This story is nothing short of expert. I can hardly wait to continue reading after every chapter.
  14. I remember reading this story ages ago. I'm not usually a huge fan of second person point of view and I think this story was the one exception to that. It's expertly written and I'd love to read more.