ummm… Cabin Pressure makeout scene whuuut?! I was doing a warm-up sketch like I usually do before art-ing, and this just came out and I had to just finish it in all it’s glory and lensflare and cheesy lighting and lazy drawing!    Anywhooo this is Martin and the Princess! Maybe they went and Martin was just gonna show her how and she just climbed on his lap and yeah… someone needs to write this for me NOWZ! lol just kidding… no really write it!?

Fandot Creativty Night: Wind/Adore

It was the wind rattling on the windows that first woke them.  Over the sound of the storm outside they could both hear the faint sound.

“It’s all right.  I’ll get it this time.”

The floor was freezing underfoot.  

Note to self.  Buy slippers.

He padded quietly down the hall, trying not to feel jealous as Theresa turned over with a sleepy murmur and burrowed back under the covers.


But fair was fair.  It was definitely his turn.

Kitchen first or…

The decision was made for him as the whimper grew into an unhappy wail which, he knew from experience, could easily turn into a brain-shredding shriek.

“Hush, hush!  It’s OK! I’m here.”

Huge dark eyes fixed on him reproachfully and little arms flailed in his general direction as he crossed the nursery in two strides to scoop the baby up.  He just managed to avoid hitting her head on the planes dangling from her mobile, earning an angry growl.  He bounced her hastily.

“Right.  Right. The kitchen.  Are you hungry?”

The baby glowered back at him.  Somehow, despite all the laws of biology, she’d managed to inherit Auntie Carolyn’s patented Death Glare and seemed to know it.  Despite himself, Martin could feel himself beginning to sweat.

“Kitchen.  Kitchen. Right.”

He almost jogged down the stairs and sloshed water everywhere as he filled the kettle and set it to boiling.  Fortunately, he managed to bite back the curses.  Theresa would not have approved.  Neither did Erika, judging by her increasingly loud growling wails.

Nudging her higher up his shoulder he hummed and bounced her with quiet desperation, even as he prepared the bottle and formula with his other hand.

Finally, the kettle whistled and the bottle was filled and cooling in the sink as they paced the kitchen.  The wind was still howling outside, and Erika seemed determined to give it a run for its money.  Her little face was screwed up in fury as she opened her mouth to really let rip.

“Come fly with me.  Let’s fly, let’s fly away!”

The baby paused, staring at him in wonder.  Encouraged, he launched into the next line and the next.  She was smiling by the verse, and by the time he reached the second chorus they were shuffling around the kitchen in an awkward waltz.

Erika was gurgling happily, though, and the tension was melting away as he smiled.

“Goodness!  What’s this?”

It was Theresa, wrapped in a dressing gown and smiling sleepily at them both.

“Oh!  What are you doing up?  It’s my turn. You should be asleep!”

She shrugged and moved to join them, winding her arms around his waist.

“Well, I was trying.  But then I heard Frank Sinatra singing downstairs in my house.  So I had to come and see.”

He blushed.  It surely clashed horribly with his hair.

“Oh… well… Do you really think I sound like Frank Sinatra?”  

And there it was.  Together for almost eight years, and he still sounded ridiculously shy.

But she only smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

“Even better.”

Of course, Erika chose that exact moment to start fussing again.  Their little Princess had to live up to her title, after all.

The milk had cooled and a sleepy baby was soon fed and resting against his shoulder as he patted her back gently.  She huffed and snuffled ticklishly but otherwise didn’t complain. Or burp.  He patted her back a little harder, letting his head fall back as he leaned against the counter.

God, he was tired.

Theresa joined him, leaning her head on his shoulder.  She was breathing slowly, just as tired as him.

A smile tugged the corner of his lip.

It was 3am.  He had work tomorrow.  

But he also had two beautiful ladies in his arms.  He didn’t get this lucky.  It was almost enough to make him paranoid, like winning a bet against Douglas.

Erika hiccupped, and Martin felt sticky wetness spread down his back.  

And there it was.  


But still strangely perfect.


“Are you sure nobody’s around? I’ve got this awful feeling someone’s watching us.”

“That’s just the security cameras, we’re fine.”

“The- what?! But we- oh, god. Douglas is going to put it on Youtube.”

“Martin, relax. The security cameras are in the main hall, making sure Maxie and Arthur don’t eat the wax apples again.”

After Theresa and Martin are married, they decide almost immediately that they want to have children. And it doesn’t take long for their fellow party guests to start taking bets on when the two of them will sneak away from the festivities to have their own kind of fun.

(Yes, I did spend nearly an hour researching the official sash colours and medals that the royal family of Liechtenstein wear to formal events)

anonymous asked:

Hey, I was just wondering if you've done any other Cabin Pressure pieces? I love the one with Martin and the Princess! In face, all your work is absolutely brilliant! Thanks a bunch! Juliana

I have drawn only 4 Cabin Pressure arts…

And one unofficial CP art… this is Carl, ATC…

Happy birthday @ampharos98!!  :D I hope all your birthday wishes come true, dancing queen!!  <33

Have a modern Lohentutu 5-sentence fic, wherein Lohengrin works at a candy store because <333~!

It was a simple inquiry: a fun and delicious gift for her little sister’s birthday, his best recommendation, a decent deal—the sort of assistance that he offered to hundreds of people daily in their little hole-in-the-wall candy-and-gift store; yet, there he was, with the metaphorical spaghetti falling out of his apron pockets, because she was stunning.

Seriously, it was bad—his palms began to sweat, he stumbled over his words, he could barely look her in her beautiful, blue eyes, and at one point, he word-vomited some pathetic attempt at cleverness and held out a bag of chocolate-covered gummy bears, declaring, “A birthday without these is un-BEAR-able!” (and he swore he could hear the clap of Fakir’s facepalm from across the store).

… But then, she giggled, her cheeks glowing as she made her reply: “You’re right; thank you, you’re a—!” and in her hand sat a roll of Lifesavers.

By the end of it, he managed to ring her up without further embarrassment, and truth be told, he was rather smitten—so he swallowed down the lump in his throat and asked for her number, because she was … well, “o-fish-ally” the most remarkable woman he’d ever met (Mytho fought back a laugh at seeing the Swedish Fish in Lohengrin’s hands).

Her smile was bright, and Tutu wrote down her information on the back of a Big Hunk (!!!!!??) before taking her leave (and despite Mytho’s high-pitched laughter beside him and Fakir stopping his job of refilling the barrels of taffy just to smirk and chuck a bag of Dum-Dums at his head, Lohengrin couldn’t help but think that this was one of his sweeter days).

Bonus 6th Sentence:
“Boy, she really roped you in, didn’t she?” teased Mytho as he poked Lohengrin’s cheek with the tip of the Nerds Rope and dodged Fakir’s thrown bag of Warheads.