#I really need to practice general color theory stuff still

[fernifox]

Sorry it’s last minute! This is for @where-does-the-heart-lie ‘s dtiys challenge. I adore how whery draws sabo and the other asl bros. They mean so much to me. I’ve drawn sabo a few times now but I’m still not satisfied with how I draw him, but I’ll get there, hopefully.

Btw this guys missing his ear and horn on the other side of his face! To match the scar, and the mask around his neck filters out smoke and other stuff, cause I feel like he has to have some lung damage from being blown up. Fire and all that. Oh! And the pack on his back is a special flame thrower type thing. It lets him release fire out of the palms of his hands and the heels of his boots.

Alt version and og sketch under the cut

I thought the :> was too cute to leave out.

#one piece #sabo #revolutionary sabo #one piece fanart #whery dtiys #dtiys #dragon sabo #Ferni art #I really need to practice general color theory stuff still #just avoiding it #idk why sabos so hard for me to draw #maybe I have higher standards for him because he’s my favorite #anyways thank you for this fun little challenge whery!

[cali]

Do you have any tips for the beginners artist? Are there any good books? Videos? You're so talented, so I was just wondering

surely there are good resources but im not good to ask for that cuz i never really did any formal art training and i mostly hate any vids or books about this. personally a lot of art guide stuff feels too forceful in what they think is right and trying to get u to do it like they do which can ruin your mind and make ur art boring as fuck. theres a lot of established art theory that is very useful and makes ur stuff better, but personally diving straight into learning all of it all the time is just not interesting to me so i dont do it. as a result im still a novice in a lot of the technical aspects of art liek anatomy shadows whatever but i think im good at the conceptual. and i just draw conceptual stuff and whenever something comes up like i get recommended a youtube tutorial for color theory or something about values and im in the mood for it i watch it and try and integrate but i really dont stress about aquiring all that stuff and u dont need to either that hard.

i think every artist ever will tell you that the best thing to learn it is just doing it even if it sucks a little and im sorry but i will say the same thing. howeverrrrrrrrr i think something new i can add is redraw a lot. i dont know if this works for everybody but it does for me. i very rarely ever draw stuff off of photo references or things infront of me other than if i need an object in a pic. but for practice i like picking out a lot of "finished" art i like and then redraw it fast and turn it into my own thing halfway thru. a lot of the time i notice little things that the artist did, that i wouldnt normally do and that stuff just sticks in my memory for forever and can potentially integrate itself into future pics. and cuz ur doing it off artists that u like u r not being pressured into directions that dont fit ur heart, but stuff u look up to anyways. i dont post these redraws cuz they arent distinct enough to warrant it but heres an example

another example!:, my rei pic from february also started off like that, i looked at a pic that had qualities i liked (particularly the deranged anime look) and i redrew and skewed it into my own thang.

i think just generally i can say: look at a lot of art and think about art a lot and draw whatever even if its not good yet... that makes u better

#thank u for the ask

[chargetheintruder]

Some random thoughts.

You know, on second thought, some of this stuff is too random and niche.  Maybe only the folks who want to read my stuff should see this.  :)

--You know, James “Buster” Douglas did in fact beat Mike Tyson exactly once.  It happened and the world DID NOT come to a fucking end.  =))  Some people just really need to stop with their pathetic Kept God-Champion trip, it’s turned really shitty lately.

Having said that, if Theory does hire 2-3 bodyguards and then somehow cash in his prize and beat Reigns?  I will laugh like 16-Bit Count Dracula, specifically from Konami’s _Zombies Ate My Neighbors,_ for the whole week Austin Theory keeps his strap.  Yeah, it’ll only be seven days at most and long enough to establish a meme, and that’s it, but damn son, how chickenshit are some of you inbreds?

--Karens and/or radical feminists are the worst, at least of the bunch that doesn’t routinely murder people.  And yeah, I’m lumping those two groups in together because they’ve earned that--they’re both groups of women who flip OUT whenever “Strange men” (usually older, or poor, or ugly, or Person of Color, or LGBTQ+) show up.  They both have this habit of accusing men in general, and even boys really, of being rapists, sight unseen, just because of the junk they were born with.  They act the same in spite of their “opposite” motivations.

But it needs to be said: some feminism, of the egalitarian sort, is a positive influence on society.  It literally is what separates most of the United States from Saudi Arabia.  Feminism lets separation of church and state function.  I’m not an idiot.  I get it that I benefit from feminism as much as most folks do.  It just grinds my soul to dust that I, as an abuse survivor, have to put up with being accused of being an abuser, and that I, as someone who was molested as a child and teenager, have to put up with being accused of being a rapist.  What the fuck even.  I can’t believe I have to bash these paranoid-ass women just to defend myself.

--This band.  _Gorillaz._  Their latest work.  I’m not sure I can enjoy it.  I saw their video for “Cracker Island” and to be candid?  A large chunk of it appears to have the cast of the band in a psychiatric ward.  Which in turn makes the lyrics about cognitive behavioral therapy, or at least how CBT is used and practiced here in the USA.  Yes, there’s more to it than that--there’s an alien loose and things.  But for the most part, I’m not sure I can groove along to the tunes knowing that the lyrics are going to make me a touch more paranoid than average?  Yeah.

--And I’m still messed up in terms of some of my desires.  But let’s be real here, my health and life are ruined.  It won’t BE an issue.  I wouldn’t know what to do with a romantic fling or even an autumnal flirtation if one landed in my lap and just GAVE ME what I wanted.  But yeah, there’s no question that a certain niche I was once notorious for pursuing, it now back to growing again and pulling in slightly more people than average.  =))

--Mainly I’m just exhausted from this summer.  From having to wait so damned much for things to happen.  No really, if political types WANT me to vote in these mid-terms this year, they could actually do things SOONER and not wear me out with CONSTANT hurry-up-and-wait bullshit.

But hey, what do I know, right?

[cqtlatte]

ahhh ur art is absolutely gorgeous!! do u have any advice on drawing backgrounds? /gq

AAAA Thank you so much anon!

Tbh I'm still learning myself so I probably can't expand on areas like messing around with perspective etc. etc., but I can definitely give you a few things that helped me start out.

1. Study images, photos, screenshots, etc.

2. Rule of 3rds

3. Study color

When I started to dip my toe into painting bgs more seriously, I heavily relied on Genshin Impact screenshots. At around that same time, I became a Genshin content creator, so I wanted to learn how to draw places in Teyvat! The more I practiced, the less I needed to rely on screenshots. I still do use screenshots and Pinterest photos of rooms and stuff for inspiration tho.

All in all, if you're focusing on a more realistic style, it's mostly recommended to study from real life stuff when you're learning fundamentals.

---

When it comes to the composition itself, I usually like to apply something I learned in a photography course I took when I was still an art undergrad called the 'Rule of Thirds'. It's a great general rule of thumb so your backgrounds look nice and well planned!

I'm terrible at explaining these sorts of things well, so I pulled this explanation from the Adobe website. (lol)

"What is the rule of thirds?

The rule of thirds is a composition guideline that places your subject in the left or right third of an image, leaving the other two thirds more open. While there are other forms of composition, the rule of thirds generally leads to compelling and well-composed shots.

If you imagine dividing a photo, or even your camera’s viewfinder, into nine equal zones using horizontal and vertical lines, that forms your rule-of-thirds grid — a setting you can select on most cameras and even on your phone.

“This might be a generational thing, but if you think of The Brady Bunch intro where you have the nine identical rectangles,” Ingersoll explains, “they’re all the same size and it’s three by three — three rows, three columns.”

That means the corners of the central square are the intersection points in your grid where you want to place the focal point of your shot. It’s called the rule of thirds, but you can think of it as giving you four crosshairs with which to target a shot’s important elements. This will help you balance your main subject with negative space in your shot to nail an effective photographic composition that will draw the viewer’s eye."

source: https://www.adobe.com/ca/creativecloud/photography/discover/rule-of-thirds.html

Personally, when I'm dealing with my backgrounds, as you've probably noticed before, I'm absolutely OBSESSED with painting skies, landscapes, and all that good stuff. My professor who introduced us to the rule of thirds had us practice this by taking picture of a tree, and wanted us to have 2/3rds of the grid rows with sky, 1/3rd with the ground and vice versa. He also advised against taking pictures where there's half sky and half land (i.e. directly in the middle of the grid), because it could look boring!

Of course this doesn't have to be followed religiously, but it's a good way to avoid stressing about how you want to arrange your background. After a while of practicing that, it's something that unconsciously becomes a part of your workflow.

---

Color is.... a really gray area tbh (lol). If you don't understand how to work with it, it can be one of the reasons why painting backgrounds could be very painful. I couldn't really grasp how to color well until I took a painting course (also when I was still an undergrad student), and I was forced to face coloring head on with acrylic paints. My prof taught us some great tips to jump off from that I kept applying even after I dropped out of the program.

I'm sure you're probably familiar with color schemes! (complimentary, triadic, and analogous), and if not, here's a great resource on it https://www.canva.com/colors/color-wheel/

But the tip that helped me the most was 'depth by color"! Here's some slides from the ppt to give you an idea (I'd send the whole color theory ppt. cuz it's really useful, but I don't think I should since it was class material, so here's the three slides.

So yeah! When I wasn't sure which colors to pick for my acrylic paintings, I referred to this method of creating space through colors, and was able to get a better understanding of how to use them in my bgs. I don't follow this method as often anymore cuz after a while of using set palettes, you're able to know what feels right and what doesn't.

This is also kind of unrelated, but if you use Clip Studio Paint, it has this really useful menu called 'approximate color', which is also pretty great for picking colors as well.

I usually have it set to "red" and "saturation", but toy around with the settings to get some color options you prefer!

---------

Anyways, I hope some of these tips will be of use to you. A whole bunch of the learning process on making quality bgs revolves around a lot of learning and a lot of practice. Let's all do our best!

#asks

[twonderland]

are the orders open? I would like to ask for a little imagines of the leaders of the houses reacting to discovering that daring is Crewel's niece

Ooooh shoot 😂 ♥️🖤🤍♥️🖤🤍

Dorm Leaders request

♥️ You have been partners for some time now, he likes your sense of style and thinks of you like someone elegant and with good taste, also really clever, something that captured his attention. You specially had ability for potion class , memorizing everything really fast and even sometimes exempting some tests for too many extra point you got in practices

♥️ You study together, some of the students in NRC think that you two are so powerful ! It’s even intimidating sometimes ...

♥️ Until one day in potion class Divus got to your place while you where mixing some herbs and weird stuff in the cauldron, it seemed to be that something was not right ...

“OMG (y/n) what did I taught you ? The fly wings go after the gnomes nails, not before !!! Bad puppie ! “

“UUGH UNCLE !! I know it, I just didn’t want it to have such a fluid consistency, I wanted to try - blah blah blah”

Meanwhile you two were discussing Riddle that was, as always, next to you was like “wait wHAT”

♥️ After that incident he was kinda nervous, -how should I approach her now ? How didn’t I noticed ???? OMG I ALWAS CASUAL AROUND HER MEANWHILE HER UNCLE WAS PRESENT- all this thoughts crossed his mind but didn’t say anything. You were no fool and noticed it, also proceed to clarify that yes you were his niece but there was no reason he should treat you differently, after that....he relaxed.... kind of 😂

♥️ Even if he knew that there shouldn’t be any difference in your relationship, he still gets kinda nervous around his teacher, not because you are in fact his niece, but because he wants to have a good impression with Divus

♥️ Fun fact : Divus already knew you two were dating but is pretty chill about it, actually really happy that his niece is dating someone so gentle and well mannered as Riddle ☺️

🦁 This one right here , he’s a person + lion = wich means he has some really acute senses such as smell and as weird as it sounds he kinda ... felt like your smell was kind of similar to Divus ...

🦁 This kept bugging his mind for some time now until he bluntly asked you “hey herbivore, if you have done something with that old bicolor man it’s better if you tell me now or else you are gonna face the consequences” ... to what you answered really confused that you didn’t have any idea of what was he talking about, and he also was being a jerk

🦁 “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT??” “well I don’t now herbivore, maybe because hIS SCENT IS ALL OVER YOU !” “Ugh, Leona! How could you say that , he’s my UNCLE “

... 😳

Leona feels rlly stupid rn

🦁 Ashamed and confused, Leona couldn’t even process what was happening “u-uncle?”.

OK LET ME EXPLAIN, have you ever heard of how animals recognize their babies because they have a certain smell that makes them “part or the pack” ? Well, that’s what happened here 😂

🦁 Right after this happened everything made sense, your smell that was similar to Divus’s, your good fashion sense, etc. he apologized while holding you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck so you wouldn’t be able to notice the blush on his cheeks

🦁 Lets just say that the atmosphere of the next classes with Divus were strange, Leona is a confident young man, but this situation took him unprepared so he tries to avoid eye contact with his teacher, just give the big cat some days and he will come to his usual self 😂

🐙 He has knew it all this time 😂

🐙 no, but seriously, since the moment he met you Azul started to investigate your past, likes, abilities, after all you were the only girl in NRC and a possible client, he had the eel brothers on your back ...

🐙 The reason he has never come to talk or ask about it is because he doesn’t see the point in it, not to be rude, but he doesn’t care who your parents or relatives are, Azul likes you no matter what and if you are his profesor niece, then that’s no big deal

Until

“RAAAA LALA LA LAAAA RARA LALA LaaaAAAAA~ “ ヽ(´▽｀)/

“ASHEGRONTTO-SAN is it really necessary for you to sing throughout the WHOLE class ??? BAD PUPPIE , STAY STAY !!!!”

🐙 poor baby just wants to be good bf material and impress your uncle 🥺❤️

🐙 -is it possible to sign a contract with myself so I can become the perfect bf? - he thinks, while you are watching his serious face and somehow you feel like you know what’s he’s thinking “.....Azul, stop” 😐

🐙 You talk with him, making sure he understands that he’s in fact the perfect boyfriend. He feels more confident now that he knows he’s doing just great but that doesn’t stop him to win your uncle’s approval 😂 COME ON HE’S AZUL ! Actually, Divues comes to like him even more after he starts to doing favors such as helping him to care some papers, making sure the ingredients for the potions are in order, etc.

He’s as always really sly 😅

👑 OK

👑 Now , this is a power couple 😂

👑 SERIOUSLY like, imagine Divus’s niece walking through the corridor in high heels next to Vil FUCKING Schoenheit going to potion class just to excempt like a boss

👑 He ... suspected something when he saw you two interacting, Vil is someone really observant and actually noticed that you have some similar mannerisms to Divus Crewel, such as rising your voice when something is well done, specially potions, your fashion aesthetic, cof cof hair color cof cof Your way of speaking and laughing, your ability in potions in general, etc.

👑 The moment he asked was smooth yet he felt kinda nervous since the very thought of it was possible but nevertheless kinda awkward “darling ... is professor Divus .. a relative of yours ? “ you stoped for a sec, remembering that you never really told him about your blood relation with Divus but also noticing your bf amazing intuition

👑 “Y-yeah, he’s my uncle actually” “....I see” he’s a little bit silent, thinking about why wouldn’t you have told him earlier ? Maybe you still don’t trust him that much... he had a thousand thoughts but before he could get depressed about it you said “He’s my relative, but I never thought it was something really important to mention, after all I’m another student and I can assure you that he has never had preference for me just for being his niece !”

👑 He... actually didn’t thought about that last part, he knows you are someone brilliant and doesn’t need the help of preference of your professor even if he’s your uncle, watching the worry on your eyes he showed you a gentle smile and pated your head “ I could never think of you that way, you are perfect without any help”

👑 I think Vil would be one of the most chill bf if he knew Divus was your uncle, he gets nervous when your professor is present but is good hiding it, outside of that Vil doesn’t change his attitude towards you or Divus

☀️ This sunshine never noticed it 😂😂😂

☀️ One day he was doing schoolwork with Jamil and his friend told him “ Kalim, have you taught about what will you give to professor Divus for his birthday ? “Mm? Well... not actually, but I can think about something ! Help me Jamil ☺️” “ok, remember that making Divus happy will also make (y/n) happy” he’s not understanding what is his friend saying rn “umm... but why would that make (y/n) happy ? The present will be for the professor” “well I believe that seeing his bf giving a present to his uncle would be a good detail”

☀️ her what now?

☀️”W-WAIT A SECOND JAMIL WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!” “I said that it would be nice if you gave a present to- “ “NOT ABOUT THE PRESENT ! Is Divus (y/n)‘s uncle ?!” ...”I thought you already knew 🤨”

Devastated

☀️ Jamil has this info since the day you started dating Kalim, of course he had to knew who was romancing his master, looked for info and walla ! Look 👏🏻at 👏🏻that 👏🏻 you are Divus’s niece 😂

☀️ As I said before, it was Divus’s birthday, the day started quite normal, you two attended class when suddenly Kalim went as fast as he could to your place “(y/n) ! I WILL MAKE YOU HAPPYJUST WATCH !” You are like ...

“... uh hu .. what is happeni-“ but before you finished your sentence sunshine boy went as fast as wind again to Divus “PROFESSOR ! Happy Birthday ! I wish you have an amazing day and that this presents please you !” Confusion was clear on the teacher’s face, one second before he could even start to ask the young man what was he talking about a strong rumbling and also the sound of what it could be a stampede could be heard from the classroom

☀️ “THREE ELEPHANTS, FOURTEEN CAMELS AND SOME PEACOCKS !! Oh ! And some dancers !! The perfect present to enlighten a soul isn’t t it ? Gyahahaha ~ ! “

Meanwhile Divus had his mouth agape from the impression while he sees all his presents arriving from a window, you are in the back trying to understand the whole scenario

“KALIM WHAT IS THIS, WHAT IS HAPPENING ???!??”

☀️ long story short, the “presents” dissapeared , Divus was ... happy that his little pup thought about his birthday but was also really shocked, and well, you and your bf had to talk about this .... event. Kalim got the idea but sometimes still wants to impress your uncle

💀 Chill when he’s alone, anxiety attack when you are present 😂

💀 That was at least the first reactions he had when he met you, it’s just that your are so fancy and gorgeous... actually Idia sometimes finds himself wondering how could he get a bae that’s so WOW

💀 Idia being Idia wich means staying in his room 24/7 gave him LOTS of time to make theories about everything and anything, one of those was you. The investigation begun because he just wanted to know more about his gurl ☺️❤️ but ended pretty chaotic 😂

💀 Imagine walking throughout the corridor and when you walk pass Idia’s door you hear a what it seems to be a high pitch scream followed by other strange “human” noises

💀 YUP he discovered it 😂

💀 The next day he found out you approached him naturally, it was morning and just wanted to give your bf a nice and cute greeting ☺️💖 but when you are just some steps from him, Idia flinched... you thought it was normal since he is easily scared when he’s outside his room, but when it’s you he’s most likely to be relaxed 🤔

💀 It took him all day to ask you about your connection with Divus, it impressed you that he was actually pretty certain that you were his niece he had a whole document with photos and all that proved his point 😂

💀 Overall he listened to you carefully, Idia is a good boyfriend, let’s you speak and say everything you need to explain, you were astonished when he gave you a proud smile when you finished your story, telling you how amazing your bloodline is and that he is really lucky to have such a beautiful and brilliant girlfriend 🖤

🐉 Mal is also pretty chill about it, being the most relaxed out of all the dorm leaders

🐉 He himself has his family in NRC too, Lilia for example *you are my dad ! ~ Boogi Woogie Woggie* srry 😂

🐉 So he understands the feeling of having around relatives in school, Malleus gets interested in you even more after you bring Divus into the conversation, he admires all his professors since he a good boy ☺️💖

🐉 Also, being Divus’s niece means you have some similar traits to him which is true at some extent, he asks you about your likes for potions and Malleus listens carefully, with a tender smile on his face. He is fascinated by your aura and all the stories you narrate about Divus and you

🐉 Everything went smoothly until the next day after you have talked about your relation with Divus, you were reading a recipe to make a potion in classroom, waiting for Malleus to arrive. He was pretty puntual to all his classes, so it was kind of weird he took his time that day. The minutes passed and you began to worry about what could have happened to your bf, was he alright ? Where was he?

🐉 “Professor Divus” it was his voice, looking up from the book you saw him handling your uncle a giant green gem with a straight face

“I hope our relationship develops placidly and for the good of our beloved (y/n) we could get along well”

The entire class was like 👁 👄 👁

- What on earth just happened ?!- you thought, Divus was struggling to carry the beautiful gem, while Mall some seconds ago was holding it like it was a piece of paper. You didn’t want to embarrass or trouble your bf with more questions since all the class was watching him confused and amazed, making the atmosphere weirder than it already was

🐉 You waited until class was over to ask him what on earth happened, he told you about how dragons give a little piece of their treasures in a form of “alliance” with the beings that they think are trust worthy, and Divus being your relative... well, he wanted to get closer to him

🥺💖

🐉 You thank him and give him a bear hug, he couldn't be any more sweeter 💕

Thanks for your request

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #riddle roseheart #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #kalim al asim #twst dorm leaders #twst requests #twst headcanon #twst headcanons #twst riddle #twst leona #twst malleus #twst idia #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit #twst azul #twst kalim

[gamebunny-advance]

Grab Bag Doodles

Whoo, art output is definitely gonna slow down now that I’m gonna be busy again, but hopefully moving around more will give me more ideas for stuff.

Notes under the cut as always~

1) Mike Hatsune from Yo! Noid 2. I’ve decided to come to terms with the fact that I just like cartoon old dudes, so I tried drawing one of my other favorite cartoon old dudes. I dunno, there’s just something really funny about “old man Miku” as a concept and still having the candy colored anime hair.

2) Superfan Kliff (Chibi Edition): What if Kliff was a different artist’s number one fan? Based on my theory that Kliff’s design is supposed to subtly imitate Tatiana, I wanted to try doing something similar for the other artists. I think I’m a lot less subtle about it, but I generally like the ideas in there. It’s just a matter of filling them out. They’re all different kinds of obsessive/creepy.

3) DJSS Superfan. I have drafts for the first 3 artists, but 1010 and Eve still need some work. It’s my headcanon that Kliff actually dyes his hair, so his hair color is different for each of them.

Captions (Clockwise, Starting from Top Left):

Circular frames to imitate DJ’s round helmet

Silver windbreaker

A ring for each of DJ’s white fingers

Tall white boots to reference DJ’s concept art

“Wireless” Earbuds

4) Unwilling Harem Protagonist. I actually drew this as a standalone, but I think doing that is just asking for trouble, so I’m throwing it in here.

Captions:

Kliff: WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?? I HATE LITERALLY EVERY PERSON IN THIS ROOM!

Neon J.: BABY! HONEY! ANGEL!

DJSS: It’s not like I like you, or anything! Simpleton!

Joey: Bro, I’m just here to get my mixtape back, but fuck you too I guess.

5-6) Vape. I dunno why, but I wanted to draw Roboto vaping. I dunno. He’s very stressed out.

Captions:

Red 1010: Is that even doing anything for you?

White 1010: It’s gumming up my internals, so I’d say it’s doing a great job of killing me slowly.

7) Farmer’s Tan. Inspired by a Sakurai Famitsu collumn where he talks about his own ROB and how just its head and base have yellowed, making it look like it has a “farmer’s tan”. [The translated article by Source Gaming.]

8) R.O.B. drawing. Practicing using refs again.

9) Me after realizing that Miitopia still doesn’t have any adequate curly hair options. We’ve come so far, but not far enough damn it. We should not still be having this problem, and even if it comes in a later patch, I’m still gonna be pissed. And why is changing the skintone limited to just the face?? I’m not a goddamn carrot Nintendo. I know Nintendo technically didn’t make this port, but these were problems in the original too.

#gbunny draws #mike hatsune #yo! noid 2 #yo noid #no straight roads #kliff #neon j #djss #1010 #roboto #cyber boi #white 1010 #red 1010 #r.o.b. #super smash bros #it's me

[pogokitten]

Lost and Found

By @pogokitten for @lost-lunar-wolf

Rating: Teen (for swears)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Ben Parker, May Parker

Summary: People lose things all the time, keys, toys, favorite socks. It happens, it’s just a part of life. But sometimes these lost items make their way to soulmates. It’s phenomena as old as civilization itself. You lose your favorite hair tie and poof, it just appears near your soulmate for them to find and eventually return. Romantic or Platonic, it’s expected that everyone stumbles over some of their soulmates' lost items here and there. Some people just end up waiting longer than others.  

Or: The platonic soulmate AU where Tony and Peter find and hold onto a lot of each other’s stuff over the years.

Tony is speed walking through his mansion the first time it happens. He’s not paying attention, tie barely on straight and coffee almost sloshing out of his cup as he rushes for the door. He’s late for a meeting and usually he wouldn’t care, but Obie has been up his ass about this one. Something about a grouchy general that thinks Stark Industries weapons are overpriced and overhyped needing convincing.

So when Tony stumbles on something caught under his dress shoes, he finds himself cursing colorfully as splashes of coffee dot the marble floor. He glares down at the offending object when he has his footing, fully expecting it to be a tool or something that migrated out of the workshop.

The engineer stops short and stares however, when he takes in the soft blue baby binky on his floor.

Tony is no stranger to having strange things in his house, being an eccentric billionaire and all, but he has absolutely no clue how a pacifier of all things has ended up on his floor.  

Tony scoops the binkie off the floor examining it, completely baffled.

It looks new if the bright color and barely chewed appearance is anything to go by. Tony wracks his brain for any possible reason a pacifier could have made its way into his home. This wasn’t a week for the cleaners so it wouldn’t be something of theirs, and the only other people who have been in his house since yesterday were Happy and Pepper.

The engineer knows Happy himself is allergic to children, but doesn’t he have a sister or something? Does she have a kid? Maybe it got mixed up in Happy’s things? It’s not the most plausible explanation.

As for Pepper, Tony’s pretty fucking sure she doesn’t have a kid. He knows from her comments that she doesn’t have much in the way of family anymore and that she’s single. Maybe one of her college friends has kids? Could one of their kid’s binkies have ended up in her purse during a visit or something?

The theory’s not great, but that’s at least more believable than Happy being the culprit, and for the life of him, Tony doesn’t know where else the thing would have come from.

Tony stuffs the pacifier into his pocket and continues out the door resolving to ask Pepper about it later.

---

Tony never ends up asking Pepper about the binky.

He came home from an extremely long day at the office spent schmoozing the stuffy general and tossed the thing out of his pocket along with his keys onto a cluttered table in the workshop. He then proceeded to drink the night away to dull the built up tension. When JARVIS wakes him up the next morning, the pacifier is a distant memory due to his ragging hangover and Obie calling to talk business.

It’s not until a few months later that the binky even crosses Tony’s mind again.

It’s another typical day in the life of a party addicted billionaire genius, when Pepper pages him through JARVIS to help her into the house. Tony finally emerges from his lab for the first time that day, muttering equations under his breath. He’s lost in his own head, still focused on the designs he’s been hammering out downstairs.

So Tony nearly falls on his ass when he steps onto something that slides under his feet in the entryway. The engineer is quick to catch himself, heart still racing from the near drop, and looks around irritably for damn banana peel or whatever it was that almost killed him.

He quickly spots what looks like a scrap of fabric nearby. Grumbling, Tony snatches it off the floor and realizes it's not a pocket square or a tie like he thought.

No, it’s a lovey.

He gapes at the toy with wide eyes.

The blanket bit of the toy is a soft yellow fabric, the stuffed animal portion a smiling dog with floppy ears. It’s a bit love worn and could probably use a wash, but it doesn’t seem especially old.

It also absolutely shouldn’t be here.

No one else has been in the mansion for the last two days except for him, and Tony knows the lovey wasn’t there this morning.

“JARVIS, did someone break into the house to leave baby toys for me to trip on, and you just neglected to tell me?” Tony asks.

“Of course not, sir,” the AI says, sounding almost offended, “No one has been inside of the mansion aside from yourself and I would have alerted you to a perimeter breach.”

“Then how is this here?” Tony questions, holding the toy up to the nearest camera.

“It simply appeared in the foyer, sir,” JARVIS tells him.

“That’s impossible, things don’t just appear.”  

“It is possible, sir. I thought it would be obvious,” the AI refutes, a hint of a smirk in his tone.  

Tony rolls his eyes. “Not in the mood right now, J.”

“I believe that your soulmate has lost both the toy in your hand and the pacifier you found approximately three months ago,” JARVIS explains.

Any sort of snappy retort dies in Tony’s throat and he snaps his gaze back to the lovey he’s holding.

Soulmates were not something that Tony Stark had thought about often in the past two decades of his life.

Growing up he’d been as intrigued by soulmates as any child his age, waiting to find mysterious clothes or toys like many of his peers. He’d waited and hoped and looked for years, anything to ease the loneliness of the Stark Mansion. Only to find himself at the age of fifteen without a single lost and found object to his name. That had been when he started to doubt, when he stopped looking for items that weren’t his and steered away from conversations about soulmates.

It’s not unheard of to not have a soulmate until adolescence and beyond, but after he hit twenty-one, Tony had concluded that the cosmos hadn’t bothered to give him one. That, or his soulmate had died before they’d had anything to lose besides their life.

He is well past the age where he would have gotten a romantic soulmate bond, but a platonic or familial one…

It’s pretty common knowledge that a lot of parents and children share a familial soulmate bond, and it’s not like Tony is the most...celibate...person in the world. He’s been careful about his fun, but could it have happened? Or was this some random kid who had gotten stuck with Tony Stark as their ‘shared soul’ by the misfortune of fate?

Tony stares at the lovey in shock while his thoughts race for a long enough amount of time that Pepper irritably rings the doorbell again. Still practically in a trance, Tony opens the door for her on autopilot.

Pepper bustles into the mansion carrying several packages of mail and one of his freshly dry cleaned suits, strands of her vibrant hair escaping the usually tidy bun they’re usually pinned up in.

“Finally! I’ve been standing out there holding all these boxes for ages! Really, Mr. Stark what in the world did you order that’s so-?”

“Pep…” Tony manages to choke out, the nickname and his tone catching her attention.

His PA puts the mail and dry cleaning on a side table and turns back to him, concern on her face.

“Mr. Stark?” she asks.

With a slightly trembling hand he holds the lovey out to her. “I… I found this. And a binky a while ago. I’ve got… I’ve got a soulmate.”

“Oh… Mr. Stark-” Pepper’s mouth opens in shock as she takes in the toy, before her eyes crinkle in a smile, “Tony, that’s wonderful.”

“God look at this thing,” Tony chuckles, and to his slight horror, it’s a bit of a wet sound, “Between this and the binky, the kid can’t be more than half a year, huh?”

“I’d say so.” Pepper says smiling down at the little plush toy.

Tony swallows. “Do you think he’s mine?”

His PA looks back up at him, eyebrow raised slightly. “He?”

“Just a feeling.”

“A feeling, huh?” Pepper smiles, “Well he is yours. Your soulmate. It doesn’t matter if this child is yours biologically, because you’re going to care about them either way right?”

Tony nods, unable to voice any of his vulnerable thoughts. Too many emotions are still swirling inside, crowding his mind.

“Besides I don’t think he’s blood related to you,” Pepper tells him.

“How do you know?” Tony asks.

She gives him a bit of smirk. “Just a feeling.”

Tony gives a little laugh, giving her a grin in return. But eventually he looks back at the toy in his hands and feels it slip off his face. In his bones, he already knows that the bond he and his soulmate will have is going to be a familial extension of a platonic soulmate bond. Or more accurately, a paternal one. And that absolutely scares the shit out of Tony.

“What’s wrong?” Pepper questions, peering down at his whitening knuckles.

“Even if he’s not mine by blood, I don’t want to be like my dad,” Tony confesses in a rush, “I can’t keep the cycle going… I-”

“You won’t,” Pepper cuts him off, “The fact that you’re worried about that at all is proof enough that you care, and that you want to be better than Howard. So you will be.”  

Tony doesn’t say anything to that, gaze dropping back to the lovey in his hands. He wants to be better than his father, but can he be? He’s been following in Howard Stark’s promiscuous alcoholic shadow for a long time now. But he owes it to this kid, and Pepper, and hell, even himself to try and be better.

Pepper eventually clears her throat. “Will that be all Mr. Stark?”

Tony gives her a genuine smile, the kind that is reserved only for the few people he trusts and cares for. “That will be all Ms.Potts.”

***

Peter sits on the couch in his aunt and uncle’s apartment pouting. The adults are standing near the doorway, talking. Sure he loves Aunt May and Uncle Ben, but he loves his Mommy and Daddy more, and they’ve been going on trips so much lately. They just went on a trip a few weeks ago and now they’re going on another one. And this one is so far away.

“We should probably head out. Thanks so much for looking after Pete this week,” Peter hears his dad say.

“Of course, we love having Peter,” May tells him.

“Don’t go!” Peter jumps up from the couch and tackles his mom’s leg.

“It’s not for long sweetheart,” she soothes, brushing his hair back, “Daddy and I have to go to a few boring meetings. You’ll have more fun here with Uncle Ben and Aunt May.”

“But I’ll miss you!” Peter whines.

“And we’ll miss you kiddo, but we’ll be back before you know it,” his dad says, kneeling down to hug him.

Then his dad picks him up so his mom can hug them too. Peter likes it when they all hug like that, it makes him feel warm and super safe.

“Love you. Bye-bye,” Peter mumbles into the embrace sadly.  

He knows by now that no amount of begging will get them to stay, but that doesn’t stop him from trying at least a little bit every time.

His mom kisses his forehead. “And we love you Peter.”

Peter’s parents set him down and hug his aunt and uncle before they step out of the apartment and are gone. Peter’s eyes feel hot, but he doesn’t want to cry. He’s six, so he’s almost big now. Mommy said it was okay to cry no matter how old you are, but most of the other boys at school just make fun of Peter for it.

Aunt May cards her fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you go get settled, sweetie. Then we’ll all go to the park so you can play and feed the birds?”

Peter nods, subdued, and shuffles to the small guest room with his backpack and suitcase.

He sniffs back tears while he makes quick work of his suitcase, throwing his clothes haphazardly into the dresser, but takes much more care with his backpack.

Peter unzips it, double checking that all of his prized possessions are there. His dumb inhaler that he has to carry everywhere, check. His GameBoy and the handful of games he has, check. Toebeans, his stuffed snow leopard, check. His three favorite action figures at the moment, check. And… Peter panics for a moment before he feels his hand close around cold metal.

With a sigh of relief, Peter pulls the tool from his bag.

The screwdriver is small, the perfect size for Peter’s little hands. It’s old and its red handle is worn. Uncle Ben told him it’s for putting together small delicate things since it’s way too small for normal sized screws. Daddy said the screwdriver had turned up in Peter’s crib when he was just a few weeks old. He had explained that it belonged to Peter’s soulmate and that they must have lost it.

Peter’s soulmate must usually be good about not losing things though, since Peter hasn’t found that much stuff. So far it’s just been things like nuts and bolts or a couple of pretty neckties. Peter’s pretty sure his soulmate must be a grown up, since they never seem to lose fun stuff, like toys. Ned’s soulmate always loses toys, like My Little Pony dolls and plastic dinosaurs.  

Still Peter keeps all the things he finds, even if they’re usually kinda boring. Uncle Ben and Daddy always say it’s important to return lost items, and there’s no way Peter would ever be mean to his soulmate. Especially when holding his soulmate's screwdriver makes him feel better whenever he’s sad. It’s familiar and it makes him feel safe, like his parents’ hugs.

Staring down at the screwdriver, Peter wonders what lost stuff his soulmate has from him.

...Maybe they’ve got that bouncy ball he lost two weeks ago? It was a really good one. He hopes they have fun with it.

Still Peter can’t wait to meet his soulmate, even if they are old. Mommy told him to be patient, but Peter’s never really been the best at that. Daddy said they would meet when the time was right and he and his soulmate needed each other most. Whatever that means.

“Peter! Come on, let’s hit the park!” His uncle calls.

The boy quickly puts the screwdriver back and zips his bag closed, swinging it onto his shoulders. “Coming, Uncle Ben!”

His aunt and uncle lead him from the apartment, his little hand clasped in his uncle’s calloused one.

Uncle Ben gives his hand a squeeze and a gentle smile when Peter looks up at him. “Buck up champ, your parents will be back before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Peter smiles and never once that week did he think Uncle Ben would be wrong.

***

They’ve just finished a meager dinner of mostly tasteless stew, and Tony wants nothing more than to collapse after another day of hard labor. He’s lost track of how many days he’s been in this godforsaken cave, no longer having any concept of time after being hidden away underground. Since that first week, most days have been the same. Tony and Yinsen desperately trying to craft the instrument of their escape without being caught, all while making their captors believe they’re cooperating.

It's a terrifyingly fine tightrope they’re walking.  

At least he’s finally getting used to the constant pain of the reactor in his chest, something he’s very likely to live with for the rest of his life. However long that may be.

Tony has just stood and turned away from the fire, intending to finally sleep, when he stumbles over something in his exhausted state. He glances down half-heartedly, expecting a rock or a divet in the cave floor only to freeze when he sees it.

It’s an action figure of some sort. Clearly a superhero of some kind, his outfit is red and white with a helmet that hides his face. Tony thinks he’s flicked passed this show on TV once or twice. Power...Something. Power Riders..? No that’s not quite it.

Tony picks the toy up, feeling his lip quirk slightly despite himself.

“Stark?” Yinsen questions, coming over to look at what he’s holding.

“My kid...my soulmate,” Tony explains with a sad little huff of laughter at the other man’s raised eyebrow, “They must have lost this.”

“My children are the same, always misplacing their things,” Yinsen tells him with a nostalgic smile, “What are they like?”

“Well…” Tony heaves out a breath, blinking away the sudden urge to cry, “He’s a little boy if I had to guess, probably around seven or eight since that’s how long I’ve been tripping over his toys. He likes action figures and Legos, considering how many he loses, but I don’t...really know. I… I never got to meet him.”

And it’s true, he hasn’t. And god it feels like everything’s been a waste. He never even got to meet the little kid who’s stuff he’s been stumbling over for years. And now Tony’s in a cave held captive by terrorists with shrapnel near his heart, the only thing keeping him alive being the electromagnet in his chest and the knowledge of a missile his captives want him to build.

Yinsen puts a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You have not gotten to meet him yet.”

The engineer nods then, his jaw set. “Not yet.”

After that, Tony makes sure to keep the action figure close during his time in the cave with Yinsen. It’s almost obsessive how many times he checks that it’s still in the same place. But it’s like a little spark of hope in their dark cavern, a tangible reminder that there’s a life out there for him to return to, if he can just escape this hell.

Tony’s got to make sure he’s there to give all those toys back to the kid someday, after all.

***

Peter blinks awake sluggishly when May shakes his shoulder. “Come on. Get dressed sweetheart, breakfast is almost done. I know you don’t want to, but the two weeks the school let us have is up.”

Right. He’d been trying so hard not to think about it, he nearly forgot.

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

Peter pulls his aching body, sore from tossing and turning, out of bed while rubbing sleep from his eyes. Last night was definitely one of the worst nights he’s had these past two weeks. The teen had spent the first half of it shifting restlessly, unable to sleep, then he’d cried for at least an hour or two before finally succumbing to his exhaustion.

The boy shuffles into his clothes, not even bothering to check what he’s wearing. Moving to the bathroom, Peter cringes at his reflection after he finishes brushing his wild curls. He’s pale as a ghost, but his eyes are red and watery. Dark shadows sit under them, marks of the past two weeks of mostly sleepless nights.

He looks horrible. Like he’s a zombie or is deathly ill. There’s no way people won’t notice. The teen is really not looking forward to all the pitying looks and whispers he’s going to get just from the news he’s sure has gotten around, let alone how he looks like a ghost. Peter really doesn’t want to go back to school today...or well ever. Going back to “normal” after Ben… Well, it just doesn’t seem possible.

Unbidden more tears spring to his eyes.

Peter sighs, dropping his gaze back to the sink.

To his surprise an unfamiliar pair of sunglasses are sitting on the porcelain edge. Peter picks them up examining them, already aware that they don’t belong to May...or Ben. They’re a nice pair of sunglasses from what he can tell. The lenses are a deep red so dark it looks black, the frames a dark burnished metal. Clearly some really expensive name brand that probably costs near the apartment’s monthly rent.

Impulsively, Peter slips them on and checks out his reflection in the mirror. To his relief, they do a great job of hiding his red rimmed eyes and the dark shadows underneath them, perfect for his first day back to school. And he can admit, although they’re a smidge big, he does look pretty cool in them.

Peter slides them off and slips them into his hoodie pocket so that May doesn’t see. She probably wouldn’t approve of him trying to wear them all day. But hopefully his teachers will give him some leeway since they’ve probably all heard what happened.

Worst comes to worst, he can just lie and say he has a migraine or something.

He eats a solemn and slightly charred breakfast with May, sharing a long and tight hug with her before he forces himself to head out. As soon as he’s clear of their building, Peter slips the sunglasses back onto his face.

On the streets, no one gives him a second glance, but it is New York after all and that’s just the norm. The real test starts when he finally makes it to the front steps of his school. There are some kids milling around outside chatting about their weekends in the few minutes before the first bell. He slips past them easily enough, with only a few brief glances thrown his way.

In the hallway some of the students and teachers do give him lingering looks, but he keeps the glasses on and his head down and the whispers are minimal. When Peter finally makes it to his locker, he breaths out a sigh of relief. The sunglasses do attract a few lingering looks, but no one has commented on his distressed state.

He keeps them on for the rest of the day, sighting a migraine when asked. None of the teachers seem keen to try and force him to take them off, as expected. Peter’s pretty sure it’s just because none of them want to be responsible for making him cry or have a breakdown.

He ends up wearing the sunglasses a few more days that week, on the mornings after rough nights. The sunglasses almost feel like a shield, protecting him from prying eyes. It feels a bit like his soulmate is there, letting Peter hide behind them. They make him feel safe, and like he’s not an open book for the first time since that fatal gunshot rang out.

Eventually, after the rubbed raw pain of Ben’s death has faded a bit, the glasses end up tucked away with the little red screwdriver in the box that holds his most precious items.

***

Tony really wants a drink, despite all his promises to Pepper. He really has been trying to lay off since they finally got back together after such a long break. Not to mention he’d gotten black out drunk so many times in the first few weeks after Siberia that the few people left in his life had come together and begged him to stop before he killed himself. Tony’s a lot older than he was when he went out drinking every night after his parents were killed, and the drinking isn’t nearly as gratifying as it was then.

He hates that it’s still a struggle to not seek alcohol out on his own.

Now more than ever, especially after Ultron and the media dubbed “Civil War”, Tony wonders if he’s even managed to do any good in the world as Iron Man. More and more it seems like he just makes bigger messes than the ones he tries to clean up. Sure, he’s had his good moments, but they feel like they pale in comparison to all his missteps.

Not to mention how even when it’s a group failure, most of the world is content in letting just him take the fall. Everyone else seems to get off scot-free while Tony and his loved ones are left in the blast radius of the aftermath.  

The engineer sighs, heading back to his lab after taking a stressful SI call in his office upstairs. FRIDAY opens the door for him without comment and he heads towards the single worktable he’s managed to set up so far in the compound. But then Tony blinks at the backpack that’s now sitting on top of the letter and dinosaur tech Rogers mailed him.

The bag is dark blue and little worn, something inexpensive that’s easily bought at big box stores. Feeling a bit excited, almost like he’s opening a present, Tony pulls the first zipper open. This isn’t the first backpack his kid’s lost, but it is weird that it’s happened at least four times this year alone.

Inside he finds a handful of pens and pencils, a mostly blank notebook with some pretty high level physics in it, an advanced calculus textbook that’s seen better days, and a change of clothes. There’s no name of course, because the universe hates to “ruin the surprise” as the saying goes, but it still tells Tony a bit more about the type of person his kid is.

Obviously the kid is incredibly smart, although Tony already knew that from finding the kid’s advanced biochem notebook in the first lost backpack and seeing the sort of stuff he was working on (Some of which seemed to be of the kid’s own initiative and was complex enough that Tony himself had needed to brush up on the subject to decode it).

He also knows that the kid must not come from a super wealthy household going by the cheap bag and worn clothes. Of course he already knew that too. Most of the stuff that the kid’s lost is generally well taken care of, but always inexpensive. That knowledge had certainly gotten Tony to fund a lot more scholarships for advanced school programs around New York City. Not that he knows where the kid is other than somewhere in America, but it still made Tony happy funding the future.

Smiling slightly, Tony puts everything back in the bag and is about to take it to store with the rest of the kid’s stuff when he catches sight of the pin buttons decorating the front. One is a Star Wars one with some nerdy meme on it, but the other one has the Iron Man mask on it. He lets out a surprised and almost wet laugh. Even after all these years he's still the kid’s favorite.

Tony will never forget the first Iron Man drawing he’d found that the kid had done, or the first action figure of himself he’d tripped over in the lab. Tony remembers preening like a peacock and showing the toy off to Pepper, Rhodey, and even Happy for the next week.

Somehow, despite all the shit he’s done, Tony must have done something right to end up as his kid’s hero. Becoming a superhero might not be why he originally set out to be Iron Man, but somewhere along the way he learned that he couldn’t just stand by and let people get hurt. Tony may not be as much as a pure hearted superhero as the spider kid, but it’s nice to have a reminder that he’s still got people to live up to.

Speaking of the kid, Peter is eager for sure. He’s smart as a whip and has a good heart despite all the times the universe has shit on him. And young as he is, the spiderling is using his superpowers with a maturity that most kids his age wouldn’t have. That and he did really well in Germany.

Tony looks back at the backpack frowning. Iron Man won’t be around forever, as much as Tony hates to admit it, he is getting old. And with almost all of the Avengers in the wind, he needs to make sure there are still heroes, real heroes, for the world to believe in.  

Tony nods to himself and pulls up the design for the Iron Spider suit.

***

Peter pulls himself out from under the rubble of the collapsed warehouse, gasping for breath, limbs still shaking. Behind him the rubble shifts and tumbles further and the teen is quick to scramble away from it, coughing at the dust it kicks up. For a moment he just stands there trying to catch his breath and still his shaking.

Holy shit, that just happened. The Vulture dropped an entire building on him and left him to die. Peter can feel the embers of his panic trying to crawl up his throat and reignite. He already knows this incident is gonna be nightmare fuel to rival the ones he has about Ben’s death. Just like that night, Peter feels like he lost something of himself, only this time it was lost under the rubble and not in a puddle of blood.

But he thankfully doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

There’s no telling how far Toomes has gotten while he was trapped under the warehouse. Peter needs to move now if he wants to stop the villain from stealing dangerous Avengers tech. If that stuff gets out on the streets no one in New York City, or maybe even the country would be safe. The thought of what kinds of people Toomes could sell those weapons to is horrifying.  

People are in danger, and even if Peter messes up or disappoints Mr. Stark again, he can’t let anyone get hurt when he has the power to stop it.

So, still trembling slightly, Peter raises his arm and shoots off a web, swinging into the night after the Vulture.

He doesn’t give a single thought to his Spider-Man mask, lost and left behind in the debris.

***

Tony is in the Avengers Compound again when he finds it.

Moving all the old Avengers tech to the compound has proven to be a nightmare. He’s still got the government up his ass after the “Civil War” debacle. Not to mention the modified alien weapons on the streets that both the DODC and FBI have been too incompetent to get a handle on, or even find the source of. But he’s still so busy with SI, the Accords, and the move upstate that he doesn’t have the time to track the guy properly at the moment.

And this Vulture guy really is below the Avengers’ pay grade like he told Peter. They were never really in the business of taking down arms dealers, not even high tech ones.

Tony sighs. He is starting to feel bad about taking back the kid’s suit. Sure, Peter was being reckless in it, but hadn’t Tony done the same in his? And Peter had the excuse of being an actual child. Not to mention sooner or later, the kid is going to remember that his powers don’t come from the suit. He’s going to run into a crime he can’t ignore and he won’t have the one thing that keeps him safe.

Tony had been telling the spiderling he didn’t want to be like his old man before the ferry shitshow, and what had he done as soon as Peter slipped up? Screamed at him, taken away the suit, and basically told the kid he didn’t want to have to deal with him anymore. And before that he had barely interacted with Peter after the whole thing in Germany, and yeah, Tony had some good excuses for that, but it was all still the exact same shit Howard would have done.

As much as Tony doesn’t do feelings, maybe he should call the kid up and apologize soon. It’s already been a few weeks.

Tony has just collapsed onto his desk chair in his workshop and started massaging at the tension headache sitting at the front of his skull when it catches his eye. A strange flash of red on his work table that wasn’t there just a moment before. Tony already knows it’s not something of his considering how little he’s been using this lab up until now.

His lip is already twitching up fondly as he reaches for it, wondering what the kid lost this time. He grabs the fabric object and pulls it out from under the stack of blueprints it’s ended up under.

For a moment nothing makes sense.

He’s holding Spider-Man’s mask.

The first one, from the kid’s onesie suit with the googly-eyed goggles sewn in. It’s soaking wet and covered in concrete dust. There are also a few smears of darker red that take a moment to register as blood to the engineer. All he can do is stare at it in utter confusion for a few seconds.

Then it suddenly makes so much fucking sense and Tony is so damn stupid. Of course It’s Peter, of course it’s always been the kid. Of fucking course his soulmate is the superpowered genius orphan with a guilt complex as big as his own. Of course it's the kid who agreed to help fight when Tony needed him the most. It was right in front of his face and he’s an idiot for not realizing that he found his soulmate nearly six months ago.

A soulmate who he’s been foisting off on Happy and refused to grow close to out of paranoid fear. A soulmate who’s looked up to Tony his whole life despite how shitty of a person Tony is. A soulmate who has obviously gone out in his homemade onesie of a suit and has obviously been wounded recently, if the fresh blood on the mask is anything to go by.

“FRIDAY, call the Forehead of Security,” Tony orders, vaguely realizing that his hands have started to tremble.  

As soon as the line connects, Tony is speaking before his friend can get a word in. “Happy, where’s the kid?”

“Tony- what?” Happy asks, sounding baffled, “Who? Parker?”

“Yes. What other kid do we both know? Where is he?” Tony questions.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know. You have his number don’t you? Or just call his-” Happy cuts himself off, and for a moment Tony thinks the connection dropped until he hears Happy swearing, “Shit! Shit!”

“What?” the engineer demands.

There's a long moment of silence and Tony thinks he might actually hear Happy gulp. “The plane. It just went down.”

“Oh God, that’s what he’s doing,” Tony breathes out, heart clenching, “Peter’s there, Happy! He’s trying to stop it and he’s going to get himself killed!”

“What? How do you know? Besides I thought you took his suit?”

“I did! But I found his old Spider-Man mask covered in dirt and blood!” Tony practically shouts into the phone, the fear he feels coming out easier as anger.

Happy is silent for a moment, maybe stunned at the outburst. “Tony what are you talking about? You’re upstate-”

“You aren’t getting it,” Tony cuts him off, feeling panic starting to win over anger, “I just found it in the lab! The lab that Peter has never set foot in! On my work table that was clear about five minutes ago!”

“What..? But that means...” there’s a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line, “Oh God. Shit- Okay. Coney Island that’s where-”

“I’m on my way,” Tony says, shoving Peter’s mask into his pocket and stepping into a suit, hoping with everything he has that the kid, his kid, is okay.

Then he’s blasting out of the lab’s launchpad, streaking through the sky towards the glowing beacon of New York City in the far distance as fast as the suit can take him. He tries to call Peter from his HUD but it goes straight to voicemail and Tony tries not to lose it completely.

---

When Tony finds Peter, bleeding, battered, and unconscious on top of the Cyclone coaster he greys out. FRIDAY is feeding him info on the kid’s condition and giving him instructions, but even as Tony’s body moves to follow her recommendations, it’s like he’s not even there. Or maybe he is but only in flashes, like his brain is skipping.  

One moment Tony’s picking the kid up as if he’s made of porcelain and the next he’s shooting off into the air, streaking back towards the compound since he stupidly moved upstate and left Peter without support in the city. It feels like Tony blinks and he’s landing again and Helen and her team are taking Peter’s limp blood covered body from Tony’s arms. He thinks Pepper calls him, and then Happy.

He has no idea what he says to either of them.

And then, what must be hours later, it feels like Tony finally wakes up in the compound’s medby, sitting at Peter’s bedside. The kid’s old mask is still bulging out of his pocket. He pulls it out and stares at it for a bit before looking back at his kid, his soulmate, laid out in the narrow bed.

Peter in his hospital scrubs is smaller and paler than Tony has ever seen him against the crisp white sheets. Not that he’s seen much of the kid, a dark part of his thoughts remind him. The kid’s broken ribs and head wound are bandaged, and he’s got an air cast for a wrist fracture. Helen’s got him hooked up to a complicated IV drip of some sort and FRIDAY is keeping careful track of the spiderling’s vitals on a nearby monitor.

Tony doesn’t remember too much of what Helen said about Peter’s injuries, other than they were somewhat severe and he’d lost a good bit of blood, but they thankfully hadn’t had to operate. Although he remembers there had been a fair amount of stitches needing to be done on the kid’s torso. That and something about having to give him an insane amount of pain meds to even touch his metabolism.

Peter shivers in his sleep and Tony hesitates for a moment before pulling the blankets up higher and tucking the teen in. After a few minutes the shivering stops, and tentatively Tony takes one of Peter’s hands in his. The kid’s hand is cold and a bit clammy in his, but Tony doesn’t mind. His curls are adorably wild and the engineer has to resist the urge to brush them out of Peter’s face.  

Tony doesn’t know how long he sits there holding his soulmate's hand, going over in his head again and again what he could possibly say to the kid, before he feels Peter grip his hand back weakly.

“Finally back with us, Pete?” Tony asks with a softness he didn’t know he possessed when the spider kid’s eyes start to slit open.

“Mis’r S’ark?” the teen slurs still half asleep.

Tony manages a weak grin. “The one and only.”

“Wha’ are you doin’ here?” Peter mumbles squinting his eyes open a bit more.

Tony squeezes the kid’s hand. “Didn’t want you to wake up alone and freak out.”

The physical contact and words seem to get through some of Peter’s drowsiness and confusion because he blinks rapidly then snatches his hand out of Tony’s own. The engineer tries not to feel stung by the action.

“Oh my god, your plane! Toomes! Is he okay, is anyone hurt?!” the teen asks frantically.

Tony is quick to stop the spiderling from trying to sit up. “The only one hurt was you, kid.”

Peter slumps back against the pillows. “That’s good.”

“It’s really not. Peter, you could have-” Tony cuts himself off and breathes out a long sigh, not wanting to lecture the kid while he’s still recovering.

The kid is giving him a wary look, like he’s waiting for Tony to lose it on him again. It makes him feel like even more of a piece of shit. So he does the only thing he can think of and holds the Spider-Man mask out to the kid.

“I found this,” Tony says abruptly.

“Oh. At the old warehouse?” Peter asks, taking it from him without meeting his eyes.  

“No. In my lab.”

The spider kid’s head pops up at that, confused. “But, Mr. Stark, I’ve never been to your lab. And I had it for part of the fight with Toomes.”

Tony nods and clears his throat. Well, now or never. “I know. But you did lose it.”

Peter’s brow furrows in confusion. Tony sees it dawn on the kid after a few seconds, his eyes going wide and shooting up to stare at the engineer.  

“You… So you’re…” the kid stutters.

“Yeah, kid. I’m your soulmate and I’ve got several boxes full of old toys, clothes, and backpacks that I’ve been holding onto for a long time,” Tony tells the boy feeling a little choked up.

Peter doesn’t say anything, he’s still staring at Tony looking completely gobsmacked. When the silence continues to stretch on, the engineer feels his insides squirm with insecurity. After everything that’s happened, maybe Peter doesn’t want to deal with such a shitty soulmate. Tony’s not sure he’d be too forgiving after the last few months of no contact and a near deathmatch with a supervillain that probably could have been avoided.  

When Peter still doesn’t manage to get a word out, Tony lets himself deflate. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I know I’m not anyone’s first choice of well…anything generally, and you deserve a better soulmate and mentor... But give me another chance, Pete. It won’t be perfect at first but let me try and fix-”

“That’s-!” Peter bursts in suddenly, cutting him off, “That’s not true Mr. Stark. The whole ‘not anyone’s first choice’ crap, I mean. You were...one of my first heroes and- and you still are. Both in a science and superhero sense. And yeah you, uh, do really suck at the whole…emotional availability thing, but you just need practice. Probably.”

Tony finds his mouth twitching up, especially when Peter’s ears go red at the last bit. The kid is endearingly honest and awkward.

“What I mean is, that I’ve been trying to follow your footsteps for a long time now. And I forgive you for the whole…ghosting me thing, and I don’t blame you for taking the suit after the ferry. And I want to be your soulmate if you’ll still have me after I crashed your plan, and-” Peter cuts off his own rambling and looks down, still flushed with embarrassment, “Sorry, I’m totally still freaking out that it’s you.”

“You and me both kid, I don’t know what I did to deserve compassionate, responsible, superhero Peter Parker as my soulmate,” Tony tells the kid, and immediately shoots for a joke to cut away from the vulnerability of that statement,  “Even if you’re a little shit that gives me grey hair, especially with all the all the times I’ve nearly broken my neck tripping on your stuff over the years.”

“Well, I don’t know what I did to deserve Tony freaking Stark as my soulmate, even if he only loses boring crap like ties and metal scraps. Seriously, Ned’s soulmate lost Nintendo DS games and all I had to show from mine were socks or nuts and bolts. You made me so lame, Mr. Stark,” Peter whines dramatically, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, and it doesn’t ruin my very polished image as Tony Stark, billionaire genius, to trip over your Legos while out in public?” the engineer teases back, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Peter gives him a big innocent grin in response like the smartass he is and Tony just rolls his eyes.

The engineer leans forward and opens his arms in invitation. “C’mere spiderling.”

Peter lights up and gingerly leans into the embrace, careful of his injured ribs. He lets out a soft sigh of contentment and Tony won’t admit to anyone that the sound makes him melt a bit.

“Is this actually a hug this time, since there’s no door to get?” Peter questions with false innocence after a few moments.

Tony snorts. “Yes, you little shit it’s a hug.”

Peter’s laughter in his ear is the best thing he’s heard in months.

“So, when do we get to return each other’s stuff? Can we do it now?” the spider kid asks when they break apart, excitement shining in his eyes even as they began to droop with fatigue.

“Not till you’re healed, first of all. And we’ll have to take a day to do it. It’s a lot to go through. You’ve lost a lot of stuff over the years, kiddo,” Tony tells him, helping to settle the drowsy kid back under the bedsheets.

“We’ve got time,” Peter yawns, “Besides, if I didn’t lose anything, then how would you ever know to come find me and give it back Mr. Stark?”

Smiling fondly Tony finally gives in and starts combing his fingers through Peter’s hair. “I’ll always come find you, Pete.”

The spiderling gives a happy sleepy murmur in response before he slips back into sleep.

***

A few weeks later, after May had found out about everything, superhero alter egos and soulmates included, Peter is finally ungrounded enough to be allowed to go to the compound one weekend. May and Tony had talked a lot in the last few weeks and she had come to terms with everything. Well, after a lot of yelling at least. But now she was glad that Peter had another adult to care for him and watch over him.

Peter wasn’t just teasing about his not losing much over the years. He’s only brought over about three cardboard boxes worth of forgotten items. It’s a stark contrast to the eight or so big plastic bins that Mr. Stark keeps Peter’s things in. To be fair, he knows Mr. Stark has an eidetic memory which makes it pretty easy to keep track of most of his things, while Peter seems to be a bit more of a disorganized genius.

Mr. Stark starts in on his collection first, cooing over Peter’s baby toys and books while the teen sputters in embarrassment. In retaliation Peter just shoves the entire box of screws, nuts, bolts, and other assorted metal bits of various sizes at his mentor with a huff. Even Mr. Stark admits that it would be pretty boring stuff for a kid to find. Although Peter does confess to using a few spare parts in his refurbishing of tech he’d found in the trash.  

“Oh wow, I always wondered what happened to my red Power Ranger!” Peter exclaims when he spots the bright flash of red and white in the box of toys Mr. Stark has just opened, “I was so sure one of the other kids at school had stolen it.”

“I found that guy when I was in Afghanistan,” his mentor divulges quietly.

Peter freezes half way through grabbing the toy. “What?”

“When… When I was kidnapped, I tripped over it in the cave the Ten Rings kept us in. I carried him around with me the whole time after that. That little dude went through the ringer with me then,” Mr. Stark explains ruefully, his eyes locked on the battered action figure.

The expression on Mr. Stark’s face is hard to decipher. It’s sad and haunted, but there’s also some deep fondness as he looks at the plastic Power Ranger. Obviously there are a lot of heavy memories tied to the toy, good and bad.

“You should keep it, Mr. Stark,” Peter says firmly, gently pushing the action figure back into his mentor’s hand.  

Surprised, Mr. Stark seems to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into. “You sure, kid?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Stark doesn’t have to say anything, but Peter can tell. His Red Ranger means a lot to his mentor. It’s not something Peter wants to take away from him. Mr. Stark gives him a warm smile, his genuine one that he saves only for a select few people, and sits the toy on his work desk in a place of honor.

“Are you good to keep going?” Peter asks uncertainly.

He’s still not sure where the lines are with his mentor yet. They’ve slowly been getting closer over video calls and texts while Peter was grounded, but they’re both still waffling in that awkward phase when you first start actually getting to know someone.

Mr. Stark gives him a soft smile. “Yeah, kid. I’m fine.”

A bit later, after they’ve gone through and reminisced over all Peter’s baby stuff, Tony pulls a big binder out of one of the bins.

“I loved finding your drawings,” his mentor admits, “Rhodey, well you’d know him as War Machine, hung some up on the fridge as a joke when I showed them to him. And then, before I knew it, I was putting them up there myself.”

“You did what?!” Peter gapped, “Mr. Stark!”

“Oh come on kid, your artwork was adorable. Especially after the Battle of New York and I started finding a lot more Iron Man drawings. I even had a few of them framed,” his mentor grins.

Peter gives him a flat look. “You did not.”

In response, Mr. Stark  just raises an eyebrow and pulls a framed colored pencil drawing of Iron Man out of one of the bins. It’s not a bad likeness, done on lined notebook paper depicting Iron Man blasting a giant monster out of the sky. Peter vaguely remembers having drawn the thing when he was bored during math class a few years ago. The teacher confiscated it when she saw he wasn’t paying attention and Peter never did get it back.

The teen hides his red face behind his hands. “Oh my God.”

Iron Man literally put Peter’s childhood artwork up on his fridge like a proud dad. He doesn’t know if he wants to preen or hide from knowing that.  

Mr. Stark just laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t be like that, kid. Come on, I can’t not be proud of my kid’s artwork.”

Peter feels himself turning an even deeper shade of red. His kid.

Stuttering out something incomprehensible, Peter reaches for one of his boxes of Mr. Stark’s lost items. Still chuckling, his mentor leans over his shoulder to see what he’s digging through. He makes a surprised noise and reaches down to extract something from the collection.

It’s a very familiar small red screwdriver.

“Well, what do you know? That’s my favorite screwdriver from when I was in MIT. I put DUM-E’s circuit board together with that.”

“Seriously? That’s so cool, Mr. Stark. My parents told me they found it in my crib when I was just a few months old. I used to take it everywhere with me when I was little,” Peter recounts with a small smile.

Mr. Stark’s eyes crinkle, a subtle upward quirk to his lips. “I can see you took good care of it.”

“I’m glad I could finally bring it back to you,” Peter tells him earnestly.

He’ll miss the screwdriver a lot more than he wants to admit, but it’s something so important to Mr. Stark. This is the tool his mentor but his first AI together with. He deserves to finally have it back.

“Keep it, Pete,” Mr. Stark places the tool in Peter’s hand and fold’s the teens fingers over it, “You’ve obviously given it a good home.”

Peter looks up at him. “Are you sure?”

“It couldn’t be in safer hands, kid,” his mentor affirms.

Peter beams in response. He’d been so impatient to meet his soulmate when he was a kid, but now he knows it was well worth the wait. And there’s no one he’d want more as his mentor, father figure, or soulmate than Tony Stark.

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

#irondad and spiderson #irondad #spiderson #the friendly neighborhood exchange #fanfiction #MCU fanfiction #my writing

[hutchhitched]

Walk Back

Written by: @hutchhitched​

Prompt 143: The girl of my dreams asked me if I needed a ride home from campus so I obviously let her drive me home then walked back to campus a couple of hours later to get my car. [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: G

A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic. This is the sixth of the nine. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays. Only three more to go!

 Peeta Mellark knows he’s got it good compared to a lot of people. He really does, but that doesn’t stop him from wallowing in pity every once in a while. He’s in college, the first in his family, on a hefty scholarship; his grades are good; he has a lot of friends and a good work study job that actually does give him some time to study. Those are all good things. They really are, and he doesn’t dispute it, but…

 He’s also had a rough home life with a mom who’s never satisfied with anything he does and a father who loves him but can’t stand up to his wife long enough to protect his three sons from her emotional abuse. He’s a first-generation college student who’s excelling in courses for his major but isn’t doing so great in all his other general education courses. He has to work a lot more than he should for someone with his course load. Worst of all, though, he’s madly in love with a woman who likely doesn’t know his name. Well, that’s probably not true, but still. She’s certainly not crazy about him the way he is mad for her.

 There’s just no way Katniss Everdeen, fellow Panem University student and the smartest girl in his biology lab, would ever give him the time of day. Not when she already has a boyfriend, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Rugged, who’s about to graduate with a promising career. That’s unlike Peeta, an art major. He’ll never amount to anything, or so his mother likes to remind him every time he’s stupid enough to visit his family.

 Besides, Katniss is beautiful and sassy and shy and so many other wonderful things. She has no idea the effect she has on him or any other male within a mile radius, including their biology professor who’s proclaimed her the most brilliant student he’s had in his twenty-two years of teaching. Peeta spends the better part of their class together watching her from across the room, which is probably why his lab partner hates him and his grade in that class absolutely sucks.

 So, while Peeta knows he’s got some things going for him, it’s not surprising that he finds himself a little down in the dumps occasionally—especially on days when his crush shows up at his workplace. It’s even worse when his co-worker knows about his hopeless infatuation and has no shame. Johanna Mason may be his least favorite person on days like that. Today happens to be one of those days. He’s cursing his life when Jo comes up behind him and leans down to whisper in his ear.

 “Oooooooooh ooooooh. Katniss is pretty, isn’t she? Look at her over there. So serious. What do you think she’s getting ready to check out, and is there any way to make it sexual when gets over here?”

 “Shut up, Jo,” Peeta hisses as his cheeks flush, and he curls into himself, trying to hide behind the circulation desk so Katniss won’t see him.

 The last thing he wants is for the girl he’s been crushing on for months to hear his co-worker tease him about his hopeless attraction. The problem is that he told Johanna in a fit of self-loathing, and she coached him through it, built him up so his ego was a little higher than the floor and prepared him some for what to say to a girl when he likes her. While it was very kind of Jo to offer, Peeta isn’t that hopeless. He’d had a number of girlfriends in high school, but none of them compare to Katniss Everdeen. She is a goddess.

“What time’s your shift done today, hot buns?”

 “Don’t call me that! What is wrong with you?” he hisses. “Why are you so terrible?”

 “Terrible? I’m trying to get you laid, buddy. It’s certainly never going to happen if I leave you to your own devices, although I’m sure you’re taking care of yourself plenty. You’re a guy, after all.”

 Peeta’s face floods with heat, and he wants to slide onto the floor and hide behind the counter. She’s not wrong—he is a healthy, twenty-one-year-old man who hasn’t dated in a while—but Peeta doesn’t want his co-worker to know that. She’ll probably tell the whole world if he confirms what she suspects. Or say something to Katniss, which would be horrifying.

 “Why do you want to know?” he asks, suspicious.

 “Knowledge is power, my friend. Knowledge is power.”

 Still not convinced, he welcomes a patron and scans the student ID he’s handed. “Exactly ten minutes,” he mutters as he types in the bar codes of the pile of library books in front of him before sliding them across the counter. It’s almost midterm, so everyone’s trying to finish projects and bibliographies for research papers before they leave for spring break. The library’s been slammed for days.

 “She’s on her way over here,” Johanna nudges him.

 He whips his head up, and his eyes widen as he realizes Jo’s right. Katniss pages through a book as she strides toward the circulation desk. Johanna turns to busy herself with a pile of returned books, and he squeezes his legs together under the desk. If he can just stop his hands from shaking, things will be great.

 “Hi, Peeta,” she says with a guarded smile as she hands him her student ID. “How’s it going?”

 “K-katniss! Hi!” His voice squeaks, and he cringes internally. He sounds like an idiot. “It’s good. I’m good. How are you?”

 “Fine. I’m fine.” She hands him her student ID, and he glances down at the book she set on the counter.

 “History of Sculpture? That’s…”

 She laughs wryly and nods. “Yeah, I know. I’m not sure how I managed to get myself into it, but I signed up for an art appreciation class. I have zero artistic ability, so it’s painful.”

 “Oh,” he says. “That’s…yeah.”

 Johanna snorts behind him, and he tosses her a warning look. He should have known better. The woman doesn’t have a tactful bone in her body. Instead, she comes to stand behind Peeta and surveys Katniss.

 “You know, Peeta here is an art major,” Jo announces with her hand on his shoulder. “I bet he could help you with your art appreciation class. He’s great at that kind of stuff.”

 “Are you really?” Katniss asks, her eyes widening in pleased surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

 “I am,” he confirms. “I’m more of a painter than anything else, but I know quite a bit about all the different media. It’s kind of in the curriculum for my major.”

 She looks impressed, but she shakes her head as she picks up her book and tucks her ID into her pocket. “I couldn’t ask you to help, but that’s cool. I thought you were a biology major like me.”

 Johanna smacks him on the back, and he glares at her before wiping his expression clean and flashing a closed mouth grin at Katniss. When nobody says anything, Katniss turns to go.

 “Nonsense!” Jo cries. “Peeta’d be happy to help. I’m sure there’s something you could do for him to repay his generosity.”

 He swears under his breath and elbows Jo in the gut.

 “Oh, I don’t think there’s anything I have that Peeta wants—”

 “A ride home?” Jo interrupts. “Peeta’s car’s in the shop. He asked me for a ride, but his shift is over now, and I’ve got another two hours before I can leave. Poor guy. He’d really appreciate the lift.”

 Relief colors her face, and she nods. “I’d be happy to do that. My car’s on the street. I snagged one of those metered ones that are always full. Must be my lucky day.”

 “Oh, I’d say it certainly is,” Jo says, a wide self-satisfied smile plastered on her face. She practically shoves him out of his chair and adds, “Peeta, why don’t you go clock out. I’ll finish this up for you.”

 “I can—”

 “No, you can’t. You’re too close to hours. Besides, you wouldn’t want to keep Katniss waiting, now would you?”

 “You really are the devil, aren’t you?” he hisses as he grabs his stuff. “My car’s in the parking garage, not the shop. What the hell are you doing?”

 “Getting you some time alone with the girl of your dreams,” she explains with a withering look. “Now, let her give you a ride home so you can schmooze her.”

 Still disgruntled, he shuffles to the door and meets Katniss on the steps. She shifts uncomfortably, tugging on her braid and hunching her shoulders. He wonders if she’s trying to hide or if she’s cold in the chill of the early spring day.

 “I really appreciate this,” he says.

 She nods and leads him to her car. “No problem. It’s the least I can do.”

 “You don’t have to do anything at all.”

 She’s silent as she starts her car. Hesitating, she glances over at him and asks, “Does that mean you don’t want to tutor me? I understand if you don’t. It’s asking a lot for someone you barely know, especially since I can’t really afford to pay you.”

 “Except in rides.”

 “Well, yeah. I can do that.” She smiles at him tremulously and shifts the car into gear. Glancing over her shoulder, she signals and pulls out of the parking spot and onto the street.

 “You could help me in bio,” he blurts and his cheeks heat.

 “Really?”

 He cringes and shrugs. “Yeah. I can’t seem to get the hang of it. I think I’m one of those people that understands it in theory but not in practicality. I’m doing fine in the lecture, but lab is really confusing.” He doesn’t add that most of that is her fault, but not really, because he can’t stop mooning over her.

 “I can do that.”

 He glances at the pleased curve of her lips and wonders how he can make it happen again. The joy of seeing her happy sinks into his bones and gives him life. It’s ridiculous, but it’s true. He has no reason to think he should except common human decency matched with his overwhelming crush. He feels like a middle school boy who’s just figured out that girls and boys have different parts.

 Katniss stops at the intersection and glances over at him. Bashful, she admits, “I don’t know where I’m going.”

 Peeta’s eyebrows furrow and he motions out the windshield. “South?”

 “No,” she answers with a nervous laugh. “I mean, I don’t know where you live.”

 He’s an idiot. Of course she doesn’t know where he lives. “Sorry! Sorry. Turn left here. I wasn’t thinking.”

 “If you want…”

 “If I want?” he prods.

 “Well, maybe, if you don’t mind, that is.” She clears her throat and then words burst from her in a torrent. “I know a coffee shop that no one else really goes to. It’s quiet and the coffee’s good. They know me there, and I have a table they kind of save just for me. If you wanted to go over some of this sculpture stuff today, that’d be a good place.”

 “Oh. Okay,” he answers, fighting to keep his face clear of the glee he feels. Katniss Everdeen just asked him to go out with her. Well, she asked him to go somewhere with her, but that was more than he’d dreamed would happen any time he imagined actually speaking to her. Not only is he going to sit at the same table with her in a public place, but he’s at her mercy with transportation. She’s got him captive, and he approves.

 “Maybe I can take a look over your lab notes with you, too. You know, if you want.”

 Oh, he wants. That’s never been in question. He absolutely wants when it comes to Katniss Everdeen.

 “That’d be great. Really great.”

 The place itself is an independent coffee shop in an older area of town called The Seam. The properties tend to be more run-down than those closer to campus, but the café is cozy and humble and has great choices in both coffee and tea. He chooses a black peppermint he’s loved since his father made it for him when he was sick. His father had also snuck cookies to Peeta despite the disapproval of his mom. He adds sugar before taking a sip that transports him back to childhood. He breathes in as he swallows and blows out a heavy sigh.

 Amused, Katniss asks, “That good?”

 Nodding, he inhales the aroma and smiles softly. “Yeah. It’s that good. Thanks for bringing me here.”

 Pleased, Katniss drops her head and shuffles in her bag for the book on sculpture and her class  notes. They work together for over an hour before reviewing information from their biology lab. He finds she’s a good tutor, knowledgeable and skilled at breaking down the concepts into sizable chunks that seemed overwhelming previously. When he compliments her on it, she waves him off but returns the sentiment.

 “I already feel like I appreciate art more.”

 “Glad I could help.”

 “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though,” she teases. “I’ll still need you after break’s over, but I think I can pass the final now, anyway.”

 He shivers at her claiming she’ll need him. It’s closer to genuine interest than anything he’s ever gotten from her, and it gives him a small thrill of hope.

 Reluctantly, she packs up her bag and sighs. “I really need to get home, but this was fun.”

 “Yeah, I should be getting back, too. Got a lot to do before bed.”

 They’re quiet as they slide into the car. Contemplative, Peeta almost forgets to provide instructions so Katniss knows where to take him. As he guides her through unfamiliar streets that turn into those he sees every day, he sends silent thanks to Johanna for her brashness and refusal to let things go. He only hopes he doesn’t have a ticket on his car when he retrieves it—hopefully before it’s towed.

 “This is it,” he says with a wave at his front door. None of his roommates are home, which means he’s stuck until they return. He doesn’t want to say goodbye, but she’s antsy, unsure what to do with her hands or where to look. “Thanks again for the ride. Come find me at the library after break, and we’ll do a repeat of tonight.”

 “Sounds great,” she says warmly. “Hope you get your car back soon.”

 “Yeah, me too,” he grumbles.

 He watches her leave, lifting his hand in farewell until her car turns the corner and heads back the way she came. Fishing his cell out of his pocket, he sends his roommates a group text asking when they’ll be home and if one of them can give him a ride back to campus. As each of them gives a reason for their absence, he realizes he’s on his own. He does stow his bag inside and grab a drink before heading back outside. Squaring his shoulders, he shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and begins the walk back.

 It takes an hour, and he does have a parking ticket. Still, Peeta has no regrets. The afternoon with Katniss was the best of the year with the promise of more to come. She’s worth the inconvenience. 

#everlarkficexchange #springtime edition 2020 #prompt 143 #everlark #everlark fanfiction #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #walk back

[painted-blackbird]

Magic Part 1; Overview and Spellcasting

It’s magic time babey! This’ll end up split into three different posts, there’s a bunch of pieces to touch on and I want to keep them separate for clarity lol. First is general magic! Magic is one of the core building blocks of life on Landia, and mechanically it’s a soft magic system. There aren’t a whole lot of rules lol, if you can imagine it you can do it. But the more powerful and reality altering the spell, the more magical energy, training, and sheer stamina required.

Everyone is capable of using magic and everyone has different levels of base magical stamina, though like anything else you can train for more. The casting of magic also presents differently in color and look based on the person, and magic color is reflected somewhere on the body of the fairie races. In pixies it’s eyes and wings, in elves it’s the secondary color in their hair, and in dryads it matches their horns and skin markings. All sorts of things can be accomplished with magic, such as manipulation of the world around you (elemental bending), harnessing raw magical energy (your standard fantasy magic), and transmuting stuff into other stuff (tricky because of the whole altering reality thing). Also, all things contain magic, so in theory all things can be manipulated by it. Though sentient souls really don’t appreciate you trying to mess with them, making them almost impossible to manipulate. There’s also alchemy, which covers both potion making and enchantment. It’s the act of giving something magical properties. This can yield healing potions and magic poisons, fabrics that shed water like duck feathers and paints used to write out temporary enchantments. Just all sorts of things. Alchemy is more time consuming, and much messier than spell casting, but requires no magical stamina. Coming into contact with magical attacks, or high energy leylines leaves behind sparking burns. They sting, but overall can be healed with magic or soothed fairly easily with balms. Of course, lots of severe magic burns would be a problem, but situations where that sort of thing would arise are fairly rare. Speaking of healing magic, it’s a manipulation of the magic in the body, condensing the healing process into a much shorter time. The catch? It’s condensing all the pain into a much shorter time too, magical healing hurts. For something like a paper cut, it might sting but then you can go on your way. A broken leg? Well not only is it immensely painful to heal, it’ll take longer because the injury is more severe, and if you haven’t set the leg right you’ll heal it wrong. So non-magical healing is still very much so a needed skill, but it can be in short supply. Lith has the highest magical stamina of the cast and favors blunt force magic, all blasts and beams and glowing orbs of raw energy. Her magic crackles and glows like fire. Merwin also has high magical stamina and favors far more technical and specialized magic, like silencing spells and alchemy. When he uses raw magical energy, it’s soft and powdery, akin to a flurry of snow. Vyrein has a fairly average stamina, and favors a mix of spells. Mostly defensive and practical with only a few offensive spells. His magic looks like water or ink when he casts. And Riah has no magical skill, she just never bothered to learn. Though, quite critically, she’s a master in non-magical healing.

#Bird’s Worldbuilding #Landia's Lorebook #Magic #Landia #Worldbuilding #Fantasy

[stardew-saloon]

Weird headcannon request: what would your favorite villagers do in an apocalypse

Listen listen listen. I fucking love anything to do with the apocalypse, especially when zombies are involved. So I’ll write about that !!

This one took a while, sorry ! I wanted to include at least all of the bachelors, and then bachelorettes in another post maybe if I’m not lazy.

Also I follow someone on my other account and I really liked how they like, used different colors to highlight names, so I think I’m gonna do that ! It’s just cute okay :)

Bachelors in the Apocalypse

Alex

Alex thinks of himself as the most ready for the apocalypse. He’s got what he and his family need to survive for months. Food, weapons (Mostly just old baseball bats), clothes, and the Will to Survive.

The zombies probably come from Zuzu city. City people are dumb and get infected right when the virus hits. Everyone in SDV is safe. For now, at least.

Alex, unlike the other villagers, refuses to interact with anyone but his grandparents. He keeps contact extremely limited with people. The only time he ever interacts is when he goes to drop off cookies at Haley’s house, per Evelyn’s request.

He does miss his best friend, though. He misses everyone. He misses that time where he didn’t hear zombies going around the town, banging on doors and smacking their heads against windows. It sucks!

Alex takes a number of zombies down. He’s easily one of the toughest bachelors, plus he’s super strong. He wants to eventually take out all of them, make the valley a safe haven like it used to be. There’s still a long ways to go, but he’s slowly making progress.

His grandparents, especially Evelyn, help out by cooking for him and others. Alex helps out other villagers by dropping off little care-packages. It’s cute! It’s also his way of keeping in contact with everyone and making sure they’re okay.

Alex is the one in a zombie apocalypse movie to survive until the end. He makes the smartest choices and keeps his family safe. He can’t afford to lose anyone else.

Harvey

As a doctor, Harvey’s first thought when he hears about the zombie apocalypse is that he needs to find a cure.

And so he tries to. For about a week. Maru is in the office with him for a while, going back and forth from her house to the doctor’s office. It’s tough experimenting on zombies and it feels.. wrong.

Even though they’re a zombie, Harvey knows that there’s a person in there. Was a person. So he gives up on the cure and instead focuses on keeping the citizens healthy.

Harvey is a goddamn tank. Were he to be partnered with Alex, the zombies would be gone within two days. However, they have different concerns. Alex keeps the zombies away from the valley, and Harvey keeps them away from houses.

They have a good system. Harvey goes around the houses to do checkups, trying to keep some form of order in the new world. He makes sure the oldies stay healthy, despite being cooped up, and that the people that are out fighting stay un-zombieified.

I think Harvey would almost last to the end, but makes a careless mistake and gets bit. Fortunately, a cure comes around! He still did research on the zombies during the apocalypse, and his notes came in handy.

Elliott

You’d think by now that Elliott would be used to being cooped up in his house. He’s practically a hermit! The only time he used to go out was to sit by the ocean or see Leah at the bar.

Now that he has to stay in, he doesn’t like it. It’s the same as all of us with quarantine. Elliott never went out much before, but now that he can’t, he wants to.

He feels like dying of boredom within a week. Fortunately, the sense of impending doom creates a good writing atmosphere. He finishes at least three books during the span of the apocalypse.

However, Elliott isn’t very smart about his survival. He either forgets to eat the food that Alex drops off, or eats it before the week is up. It’s tough.

Eventually, Elliott decides he can’t survive on his own like this. He feels like he’s going mad. It makes for nice poetry, but for now, he needs to prioritize his health.

So he makes his way to Leah’s! He figures it’s probably a good idea. Nobody ever said that you couldn’t hang out with friends, or stay with them.

While going to Leah’s, he’s not very careful with avoiding any zombies. He’s not attacked, but he is followed. Leah let’s him in of course, and then end up holed up in her house. She’s lucky enough to have the forest near her house, so she can rely on that.

Elliott probably trips up somewhere and ends up dying first, joining the rest of the zombies. He’s not very good at being a zombie, though. Which might be for the best! He doesn’t run around very much and usually just hangs back by himself.

Sam

Sam thinks he’s going to be good at the whole apocalypse thing. He’s like “I’ve played enough first-person shooter zombie games to know how to fight them off.” Then the second he’s put into combat, he falters and doesn’t know what to do.

Lucky for him, Jodi is good at fighting. Kent knows how to defend the house. Vincent knows how to ask dozens of questions about what’s going on.

And Sebastian knows how to sneak into Sam’s window at night when they haven’t seen each other in a while. They still try and keep close, but most of their conversations are over the phone. It gets lonely, sometimes.

Sam isn’t necessarily smart about the apocalypse because he doesn’t need to be. He feels bad about relying on his parents, but you would too if you had his kickass parents.

He knows how to keep Vincent safe! Vincent is taken out at least once a week, mostly to see Jas. He misses her a lot. Sam likes to see Shane, too! He misses working with his buddy, even if his body was a grouchy alcoholic that waved him off whenever Sam got within ten feet of him. Good times.

Sam really wants things to be normal again, so he tries to stick with Alex whenever he sees him out. They’re good at fighting, but Sam is very chatty and often gets distracted by other things.

Other things are usually Abigail waving out of her window and whisper-shouting for Sam. Sometimes she’ll whip out the Samson!!! just to get his attention. It usually works. Alex will take a minute just to tease him.

Sam either survives until the end of the apocalypse, or dies about halfway through while on his many night trips to see Sebastian and Abigail.

Sebastian

Apocalypse? He doesn’t even know her.

Sebastian’s life is literally the exact same. Aside from hearing less people upstairs, nothing has changed about his life. Demetrius is upstairs working on a cure or something (Seb tuned out the second he started talking) and Maru goes off with Harvey sometimes.

He heard Robin say something about building a wall or something to keep the zombies out. He wasn’t planning to help very much, seeing as the others mom and some other villagers wanted to help out. Really, the only place the zombies are coming in is through the tunnel for the bus, so if they block that off, they’ll be fine.

Sebastian is more focused on other things. Like staying in contact with Sam and Abigail to make sure that they’re still kicking. Demetrius doesn’t let anyone outside of the house, so Sebastian sneaks everywhere, whether it’s outside to go smoke or to see his friends.

He’s pretty good at fighting, though. He can defend himself a whole lot better than Sam, who he thoughts would have more experience. They both thought his video game theory was true because they’re both dummies.

Those few times where Seb does get out of the house, he’s like a zombie killing machine. It’s too bad he’s doesn’t do it very often. He’s good at sneaking around, too. Those years of tiptoeing around the house to avoid his stepdad yelling at him are really paying off.

Honestly, the whole apocalypse could end and the zombies could dissapear, and Sebastian would have no idea. He'd still be down in the basement, messaging his friends and working on his coding.

Or, for a worse ending, zombies could storm his house, saving him for last, and he wouldn’t know until it was too late and he was surrounded by a horde.

I think Seb would end up surviving, though. He’s not necessarily good at the apocalypse, he’s just good at avoiding it.

Shane

When Shane thought about sobering up, he never imagined he’d have to do it like this. The apocalypse is pain in the ass for him.

He stays with Marnie and Jas, rarely leaving the property. He doesn’t like being holed up inside for so long because then he’s just alone with his thoughts, so Jas keeps him going most of the time.

As much as he hates to admit it, he misses his old life. He hated being employed at Joja, but it gave him something to do. And yeah, he misses his annoying coworker. Lucky for him, he gets to see him one a week when Sam and Vincent pop in.

Shane can act like he’s annoyed all he wants, but now? It’s he apocalypse. Why should he be so bitter?

I’m not going to say that the apocalypse changes Shane’s attitude, but he definitely has some revelations about himself that he wouldn’t have had under different circumstances.

Shane doesn’t like fighting zombies. Not as much as Alex does, anyways. But he still helps him out if it’s ever necessary. Shane is infinitely better at defending than he is attacking. He makes sure to keep the zombies away from their house, and the town in general.

Sometimes, Marnie will ask him to deliver stuff to Leah’s house, or Sam’s since they’re awfully close. It feels like a job to him, so he actually enjoys it. He’s surprised to see Elliott at Leah’s and immediately assumes they’re banging. He doesn’t ask any questions, though. He doesn’t care.

Shane probably ends up dying after a tiny mistake that could’ve easily been avoided. He doesn’t see it as that bad, since Jas is still safe. That was all that mattered to him, really. He either dies after a few months, or an entire year into the apocalypse. Either way he does not go down easily.

I would like everyone to know that I wrote these thinking that Lewis holes himself up in his house and does not help anyone out, so they kick him out and elect Alex as mayor. It was a silly thought I had, but then I just went with it.

Alex for Mayor 2020.

It’s not necessarily like, an official position, but they all kinda trust Alex to protect them, so he just assumes the position. He’s not the smartest, which is why Penny was elected to be Vice-Mayor (Alex’s words). They do a good job running the place.

Anyways that’s all! Hope you enjoyed! Sorry this took so long, it was a lot to write hah.

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv sebastian #sdv seb #sdv sam #long post #like really long post #praying for everyone that goes through the entire thing #sdv harvey #i forgot him oops #tagging is such a pain #ion feel like it :/ #one again wes is caught writing harveys to be shorter than the rest #big oops #sambastian if you squint #actually it’s pretty obvious #elleah #elleah stans this one is for u #death tw #violence tw #death #violence #i don’t think there’s blood but just in case #blood tw #blood

[clumsyclifford]

you said i should say less about new ace content in general and i immediately understood that as say more so please gimme some ace stuff and please make it fluffy. i don't particularly care about the pairing but i'm always down for lashton and/or malum but any atl ship works for me as well so like just do your thing i guess wow that was a useless sentence this messy ask is further proof that i should go to sleep so bye love you!! -fiancee

well i ran with ace lashton in an interesting way i hope you enjoy it this is not based on real life but maybe it could be. in a better world it is. that’s all i’ll say about that, i hope you like it

read here on ao3

-

Luke likes going to the movies. He likes staying home and having a home-cooked meal. He likes quiet, simple, intimate activities.

He does not like parades.

“But it’s Pride,” Ashton wheedles. “D.C. Pride! One of the biggest pride events in the country!”

“You made that up, and I don’t care,” says Luke. “I don’t want to go. I don’t like parades.”

“It’s not really a parade.”

“Also not true.”

“Okay, but it’s not about the parade, it’s about the gathering,” Ashton says, gently shaking Luke. “It’s about a bunch of queer people all coming together and uniting in one space. Celebrating our differences and our similarities. Celebrating community.”

“That’s beautiful,” Luke says. Ashton looks hopeful. “Still no.”

Ashton huffs. “I don’t wanna go alone.”

“Go with Michael and Calum,” Luke suggests. “I’m sure they’d love for you to tag along.”

“And third-wheel all day? No thanks.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Luke says, and carries on setting the table for dinner. If his mum comes home to a half-set table, the blame will fall on Luke, of course. Ashton takes the cue and begins laying out plates.

It’s quiet for a moment. Luke can tell Ashton is trying to come up with a way to convince him to go to Pride, but it won’t work. Luke’s avoided Pride for seventeen years. He doesn’t intend to start now. Staying at home with his boyfriend and watching Rent is about as much as Luke cares to celebrate Pride Month. Maybe they’ll make out a little. Standards are low.

“Okay, how about this,” Ashton says, and Luke sighs deeply. “No, hear me out. And keep an open mind, okay? Think about compromise.”

“I’m listening.”

“What if we go before the parade starts?”

Luke frowns. “Then what would be the point?”

“There will still be people there,” Ashton says. “But it won’t be nearly as many people, and the festivities won’t really be happening yet, so we can still say we went to Pride but we won’t get caught up in the whole big thing.”

“But I thought you wanted the whole big thing.”

“Ah, whatever,” Ashton says, waving him off. “I’d rather go with you than see the parade alone.”

Luke feels bad. It’s obviously important to Ashton, or else he’d have given up already on trying to make Luke go. And as much as Luke knows he shouldn’t feel obliged to prioritize Ashton’s wishes over his own comfort, this makes him want to.

Compromise. “Okay,” Luke says. “Fine.”

Ashton blinks. “Really?”

“Did you think that wouldn’t work?”

“I—” Ashton’s face breaks into a smile. “I don’t know, not really, to be honest. Really? You’ll come?”

“Yes,” Luke says, and the delight in Ashton’s face makes up for the dread pooling in Luke’s stomach. 

Ashton shuffles around the table and presses a warm kiss to Luke’s cheek. “Thank you,” he says, warmth also bleeding into his voice. “I’m excited. You’re gonna like it.”

Probably not, but Luke keeps that thought to himself. He doesn’t need to rain on any more of Ashton’s parades.

-

Luke and Ashton are excited about Dupont Circle for different reasons. Ashton is basically vibrating out of his seat on the Metro as they approach their stop, where the parade is slated to begin at half past noon. It’s only eleven now, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Ashton. He seems confident that there will be enough Pride to satisfy his excitement without overwhelming Luke.

Luke’s just looking forward to the Krispy Kreme at the station.

They take the escalator out, and sure enough, there’s Krispy Kreme to the left. Luke grabs Ashton’s hand and yanks him towards the shop.

“Seriously? We’re at D.C. Pride and your priority is donuts?” Ashton says, but he allows Luke to tug him along until they’re at the door.

Luke turns to him and very seriously says, “Ashton, my priority is always donuts.”

“Yeah, that’s fair, I walked into that one,” Ashton mutters as they enter the store.

Five minutes and two donuts later, both of them exit, Luke munching contentedly on a strawberry-frosted donut (with sprinkles, of course) and Ashton carefully biting into his jelly-filled one. 

“Okay, starting now, we’re at Pride, and you can’t be a Negative Nancy,” Ashton declares.

“I promise not to be a Negative Nancy,” Luke vows. “I swear on this donut.”

Ashton beams. “Yay! Okay let’s go explore.”

You’d think this was Ashton’s first Pride for how excited he gets over everything. He stops at almost every stand, even though they’re all selling different versions of the same thing, and somehow manages to spark up conversation with any passing person who looks queer and interesting. Luke loves this about Ashton, how charming and outgoing he is, how he could befriend a vaguely human-shaped plant. People are drawn to him; Luke’s no exception. Ashton is very much the main character, even more so because he doesn’t seem to know it. He's just Ashton, and Luke loves him for it. Even when it means the halo of Ashton’s spotlight draws attention to Luke by extension.

Luke is not a charming, outgoing person. Luke is quiet and reserved. He’s never cared for the spotlight. Sometimes it’s a good thing that he has Ashton to pull him out of his shell a little. Sometimes he wilts under the scrutiny. It's a toss-up, but Luke appreciates that Ashton never stops trying.

Most of the tables selling merch boast shirts, hats, flags — the kind of thing you’d wear or own if you wanted to be loud and proud about your identity. Luke’s not really that kind of person. Luke’s way of coming out is to subtly slip into the conversation the fact that he has a boyfriend. Before he had a boyfriend, it pretty much never came up. Big, colorful flags have never been his cup of tea. 

And anyway, that’s only half of his identity. The other half never comes up, and Luke’s okay with that. It’s not like being ace is the kind of thing you can casually mention. It has to be a whole thing, every time, and Luke doesn’t want to deal with the whole thing, so he just doesn’t bother. Most of the time it doesn’t really matter. As much as Luke is able to fly under the radar, that’s what he intends to do.

“Hey, pins!”

Ashton is not like that.

“Luke, you like pins, right?”

The table they’ve stopped at is covered end-to-end with pins. Enamel or plastic, every single pride flag Luke has ever seen in his life is represented here, in a variety of shapes and sizes. The kaleidoscopic display is fun to look at, at least. There’s nobody behind the table at the moment, which means in theory it would be pretty easy to steal one, but Luke’s not like that, and even if he was he wouldn’t feel good stealing a pride pin from a small-business owner.

“I don’t really have an opinion,” says Luke.

“Ha,” Ashton says. “O-pin-ion. Haha.”

“I’m leaving you,” Luke says, turning away with a wry grin.

“No, come back.” Ashton grabs his wrist and pulls him closer, so Luke wraps an arm around his waist and rests his head on Ashton’s shoulder instead. “I like pins. They’re a very understated way of coming out.”

“Having a boyfriend is an understated way of coming out,” Luke replies.

"I resent you calling me understated," Ashton says in faux-indignance. Luke giggles.

“I’m so sorry, I had to run and grab some water,” says a voice, as a person bustles around them to stand behind the table. Their pink fringe is pushed back by a bandana and they’re wearing a jean jacket with so many pins and patches that the fabric is practically invisible. A sticker on the front pocket of the jacket introduces them as Alex, he/they :). “Can I help you with anything?”

“Just admiring the collection,” Ashton says brightly. “I love your jacket.”

“Thank you very much,” says Alex. “It’s been accumulating pins for about five years now.”

“Damn,” Ashton says, wolf-whistling. “That’s a good collection. I don’t have a good jacket for pins.”

“Wish I could tell you where I got mine, but it was a gift from my boyfriend,” Alex says. “I’ve heard thrifting is a good way to go.”

“You wanna go thrifting, Luke?” Ashton says, nudging Luke, who shrugs.

“Sure,” he says. He reaches for one of the asexual flag pins, a small enamel rectangle, and smoothes his thumb over the surface. “These are pretty nice.”

“You should buy it,” Ashton says. “Start a cool jacket. Then we could be matching.”

“You don’t have a cool jacket yet.”

“I know, but we could.”

“But neither of us have a cool jacket. So it’s not even—”

“Fine, ruin my fun,” Ashton harrumphs. To Alex, who’s watching them with amusement, Ashton says, “So how long have you and your boyfriend been together?”

“Oh, uh…” Alex’s gaze diverts to the air like he’s counting invisible numbers. “Six years? Almost? I think it’s gonna be six years in July.”

“Six years,” Ashton repeats in mild awe. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, high school sweethearts, blah blah blah,” Alex says, smiling. They shrug. “Everyone thought we’d break up when we went to college, but when you know, you know. You know?”

Luke swallows. Ashton says, “Good for you. That’s impressive.”

“I like to think so,” Alex says. “What about you? Are you guys together?” He winces. “Should I not have asked that? I’m sorry, to be honest this is Jack’s business, I’m just running the stand because he wanted to go look around a little before the parade started. My boyfriend Jack, I mean. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s all good,” Ashton says. He hip-checks Luke gently, which Luke takes to mean something like is it cool if I tell him? It’s nice that Ashton is asking, but Luke had kind of figured everyone would assume they were together because, you know, Pride, so he doesn’t really care.

“Yeah,” he says. “For, what, eight months?”

“Eight months,” Ashton confirms.

Alex grins. “That’s great, I love it. What are your names?”

“Ashton,” says Ashton. “He/him.”

“Luke. Also he/him.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” Alex says. “I’m Alex. He/they.”

“Yeah, your thing says,” Luke says, pointing.

Alex laughs. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t see it. Or they see it and think it’s just another decorative pin.”

“Do people wear pronoun pins as decorations?” Luke wonders. “That seems strange to me.”

“People are ineffable,” Alex says solemnly. Then he grins. Luke likes Alex. In fact, little though Luke’s actually spoken today, he likes most of the people whom Ashton has stopped to chat up. Queer people are so friendly, is what Luke is learning. It almost makes him happy to be here. 

Except now Alex’s words are ringing in Luke’s head, and he can’t stop hearing them. Everyone thought we’d break up when we went to college, but when you know, you know. 

Ashton’s going to college this fall. Luke’s managed to forget about that fact because it’s only June, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Ashton’s leaving and Luke’s going to finish his senior year alone and what if something happens to them? What if they’re fooling themselves thinking they can do the long-distance thing? What if they’re doomed already and this summer is just prolonging the inevitable?

“Well, personally I would love to buy a pin,” Ashton says. “Luke, choose one.”

“What?” Luke says, blinking himself out of his spiral. “Why?”

“I’m buying you one,” Ashton says.

“I don’t—” Luke bites his lip. He’s still fidgeting with the ace flag pin, and he kind of likes it. Maybe he can subtly come out in different ways. Maybe he can just wear it, and wait for someone to ask. Then it’s way less of a big deal because it’s not like Luke has brought it up. 

There’s enough shame in the world. Luke doesn’t need to add to it.

“Okay,” he says instead. He holds up the ace flag. “This one.”

“Great choice,” Ashton says, digging out a five to give to Alex. He hesitates, then pulls out a ten instead. “Actually, maybe I’ll also get one. Then we can actually match.”

“Right, with our matching jackets that don’t exist yet.”

“You know what, fine, we don’t have to match.” Ashton makes a face at Luke. “You can put your pin on whatever you want. It’ll go great with your all-black closet.”

“Shut up,” Luke grumbles. Ashton laughs.

“Hey, don’t knock the all-black,” Alex says. “Black is the new black. It’s fashion forward.”

“Not in eighty-degree June it’s not,” Ashton says.

“It’s seventy-five,” Luke protests. “And Alex is wearing a jacket!”

“Yes, but Alex is not my boyfriend, and we only just met,” Ashton says, grinning. “Also, their jacket is sick as fuck.”

“It is sick as fuck,” Alex agrees. “But I’m still siding with Luke here. You can’t go wrong with all-black.” For the first time, he seems to register Luke’s shirt, and his eyes light up. “Hey, Green Day! I fucking love Green Day!”

“You should be my best friend,” Luke says seriously, and Alex nods equally seriously.

“Hey,” Ashton complains. “I like Green Day.”

“Thank you for the pin,” Luke tells Alex. “Good luck with the, uh, you know, selling more of them.”

“Of course, anytime,” Alex says. “I’m pretty sure there’s a website on these business cards if you ever want to, I don’t know, browse?” They shrug one shoulder. “This is why I’m not a small business owner.”

“Cool,” Luke says, taking the card. He probably won’t use it, but you never know. 

“Nice to meet you, Alex,” Ashton says, as he and Luke start to walk away, fingers interlaced between them. “Good luck! Happy Pride!”

“You too! Enjoy the parade!” Alex says, waving.

Luke doesn't bother to inform him they're not staying that long; he and Ashton turn away and continue walking, Luke with his new pin clutched in his fist.

“They were cool,” Ashton says enthusiastically. “There are so many fucking interesting people here. God, I love Pride.”

Luke grips the pin tighter. The pointy back starts to hurt where it’s pressing into his palm. “Yeah.”

“Thanks for letting me get you something,” Ashton says. “I know it’s not really your thing, but I don’t know. I felt like we should buy something after we stood there for so long.”

“No, yeah, I agree.”

“On the bright side, they’re pretty cool pins.” Ashton holds his out like he’s assessing what he’ll do with it. “Maybe Michael has an extra jean jacket he never wears. I could ask him.”

Luke hums. Ashton glances over at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Are you okay?”

Luke's not supposed to say anything like this. He’s supposed to be positive because he promised he wouldn’t be a “Negative Nancy” and the sky is so blue that Luke would hate to be the reason for rain, but if he doesn’t say it then it’ll just keep ringing around his head until he can’t think about anything else.

“You’re not scared we’re gonna break up when you go to college?” he blurts out.

Ashton stops short and their hands break apart so Luke’s falls to his side. “Where’d that come from?”

“You heard Alex,” Luke says. “Everyone thought he and his boyfriend would break up when they went to college.”

“But they didn’t,” Ashton says.

“But that’s obviously unusual,” Luke counters. He swallows hard. “I’m just saying…aren’t you worried?”

Ashton tilts his head. “Do you want me to be worried?”

And yeah, a little part of Luke does. Only because if Ashton’s worried, it means he values their relationship enough that it would hurt him to lose it. But Luke knows that’s not really fair, and he knows Ashton loves him, even if he doesn’t seem worried at all.

“No, I don’t know. I just— I don’t know.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know,” Luke says again. “I had pretty successfully managed to avoid thinking about it, but now…I don’t know.”

Ashton gently pries open Luke’s fist and runs his thumb over the red imprint the pin has left. Sheepish, Luke puts the pin in his pocket. As soon as his hand is free again, Ashton takes it, holding both of Luke’s hands in both of his own.

“I’m not worried,” he says quietly. His eyes are so sincere and his hands are so soft and Luke loves him and likes him and knows that to lose him would be a fate worse than death. “You must have missed the other half of Alex’s sentence. Remember? When you know, you know.”

Luke’s breath catches a little. “Yeah, but…”

“But what?” Ashton lifts a shoulder. “I already know, Luke. I’m in it for the long haul. So unless you meet some other guy who’s even awesomer than me and makes better puns, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not letting you get away that easy.”

Luke gazes at Ashton until the rest of the world falls away. “Oh,” he breathes.

“Okay?” Ashton quirks a smile.

Luke surges forward and kisses Ashton for as long as he can manage without passing out. It’s clumsy and sweet and Ashton’s hands tighten around Luke’s waist and Luke wraps his arms around Ashton’s shoulders and nothing else in the known universe matters except this.

When they finally break apart, Luke cracks a smile. “Okay.”

Ashton beams. He offers his hand to Luke again, and this time Luke takes it and doesn’t let go.

#luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #idk when im gonna post this but at the time of drafting it i am So Fucking Tired #i cant imagine that will be less true when i finally post it lol #i feel like im constantly tired lmao #but right now its 1am and i wanted to be asleep or like getting ready to sleep like.......an hour ago #and then i made a cup of tea instead #it's july 23rd (it's july 22nd but it's past midnight so. 23rd) #and i want sleep! #after i save this post to my drafts tho im gonna go start getting ready for bed #maaaaaaaaaan im tired #night yall #oh i hope you like this fiancee it occurred to me while writing that its hard to write an Ace Fic unless its about the Being Ace #which is not something i care to write about #usually characters just........are ace #so this fic plot was borne (born?) of that dilemma #ask #anonymous #fiancee anon #ETA i just woke up twelve minutes ago but fiancee said now so you get this now

[wisteria-lodge]

lion primary + bookkeeper badger secondary (unhealthy badger secondary performance) (in-process lion secondary model)

ok so hi. i'm definitely a lion primary, that much i'm sure of. i've been stuck between badger secondary and lion secondary recently (for what it's worth, intuitively i'm leaning more toward badger secondary, but i wanted to get a second opinion because there's one thing that's not making sense to me)

basically, i'm very focused on my truth and communicating it

So the FIRST thing you said was about the importance of communicating your truth. Which doesn't sell me on Lion secondary by itself. But still. Interesting that's what you lead with.

But I'm very naturally badger secondary i think. i tend to fall into mirroring people and making them feel comfortable quite often. hard work to me is its own reward. the catch is, i don't think i feel *good* doing it? i do in a sense. it's easy for me to do and i like helping people sort their problems out by kinda becoming what they need

This is definitely a description of a Badger secondary, but I'm going to point out the negativity of the word "fall," which suggests loss, loss of control.

So this could be a Badger model, or a somewhat tired and Burnt Badger secondary, or maybe even a Badger secondary in a bad situation. It can be brutal when you find yourself mirroring people you don't want to mirror, or mirroring people you don't like.

i have a *constant* fear that i'll lose myself to it. i feel disgusted with myself for not being true to myself in that moment.

That does sounds pretty Lion. And whatever is going on with your Badger, it's not happy.

that being said, i can't help but wonder if this is just the lion primary coming through.

i solve problems in a badger way, but i think maybe my lion primary values solving them in a different way.

It's possible to get a kind of disconnect between your primary and secondary. I know Badger Snakes will struggle with this, reconciling the bad reputation Snake secondaries are given with the community that they value so highly. But I don't think that's what's going on here.

being myself and speaking my truth is ultimately what i want for myself.

I would break that down into 'Being myself'= Lion primary. 'Speaking my truth' = Lion secondary.

i want to be able to connect with people, help them with their issues, etc. but i'd feel better about doing it if i were more secure in myself during the process. i feel very insecure thinking about the idea of being badger secondary, because it matters to me to have presence, take up space, be known for myself as i am, but if it's the truth i want to work with it.

You have a very, very negative idea of what a Badger secondary is. Like good lord, wallflowers who are doomed to have inauthentic relationships forever because they constantly turn into whoever they're talking to? That's out of a horror movie.

You're thinking of immature Invisible Badgers. Adult Badger secondaries can have so much weight and power and presence. Even if you want to keep it to just Lion Badgers - that's still Moana, Steve Rodgers, Neville Longbottom, Sansa Stark, Castiel, Will Graham - that's off the top of my head.

I think some soul searching is in order. Why is the idea of being a Badger secondary so scary? Is there a doormat Badger secondary in your life that's coloring the whole thing badly? Are you struggling to find a sense of self in general, and think that with a Lion secondary it would be easier?

Because as it is, I can't tell if you're a Lion secondary modeling an unhealthy Badger secondary, or a burnt-out Badger secondary who thinks Lion secondaries are cool.

some additional details in case they help: really unsure between improvisational vs planned. i think i lean a lot more toward improvisational? for example, i'm kinda infamous among my friends for... never planning. ever. they want to make plans a few days ahead, and to me that just narrows my options down. if i'm going to do something, i want to do it naturally and spontaneously, or it just feels stifling.

That's definitely improvisational.

that's not to say that i don't plan ever though. in situations where i genuinely don't feel equipped to manage something, and i've kinda "checked out" of trying to be myself, i'll often plan just to get through whatever it is.

That's definitely a model. And a really negative model, just look at that language - "don't feel equipped" "checked out" "get through whatever."

for example, i do this at work a lot. i've kinda given up on trying to put myself out there there

BURNT SECONDARY

along with that, i have a history of building communities that i feel safe to be myself in, which to me suggests a badger model and lion secondary.

I mean, everyone wants communities where they are safe to be themselves, people just define "being themselves" and "communities" differently.

But your read is definitely possible. Slightly burnt Lion secondary, Badger secondary that makes the Lion secondary feel safe to use... but feels sticky and wrong when you use it too much.

at the end of the day, my gut is telling me i'm probably badger secondary. lion secondary feels more aspirational to me, just cause the tools that badger secondary has feel so natural to me and i tend to revert to them so often (plus it comes with its own rewards).

Well, that is what we are after here. What is the easiest, what is the most... obvious...

ultimately, i do want to be true to myself, but badger techniques do feel good: work to me is zen. i like being able to just work on the things i enjoy.

This sounds really, really Bookkeeper badger. I think that could easily be what's going on here - you're a Bookkeeper Badger who doesn't like having to bring out the Courtier Badger skillset. That's a thing.

i do make people feel safe, and i enjoy it. i have a talent for becoming a tool of sorts, and being what people need me to be in the moment, although i feel really bad about myself if it goes on for too long or i feel like i'm losing myself to it.

Sounds like a Courtier Badger being used in an unhealthy way/non-consensually/for unhealthy reasons.

in short, i'm a very direct person, and i aspire to be even more that way, but i also strongly value badger methods and enjoy them.

You can be an incredibly direct Badger! These two things are not mutually exclusive! Just yesterday I wrote about the super direct Lion Badger from Catch Me if You Can.

i don't honestly know which i'd sacrifice for the other. in theory, being true to myself is a lot more important to me

Lion primary

but in practice i tend to walk the line between pushing boundaries and blending in.

Badger secondary

***

there is one thing i wanted to add to my ask, sorry for sending in two!

i have a complicated relationship with "being myself." i have a super idealized version of what "myself" looks like, and it's pretty standard lion secondary.

So you really like Lion secondaries, and especially with all the improvisational stuff and a desire to "put yourself out there" it sounds like you're building a Lion model. I mean, you're literally constructing a Lion secondary space to exist in.

i tend to get pulled between being myself and giving out my true opinions and shoving myself into this kinda reductionist "helpful and harmless" model that i feel like i get stuck in.

Oh ouch. That barely even sounds like a Badger model, that's a Badger performance.

ultimately i want to be myself for two reasons: one is that it feels more comfortable, and two is that i want people to *see* me that way. i want to be seen as someone bold and direct.

Okay. Here's how I'm reading you. You're a quite loud Lion primary who values "being themselves," and because of that you like and idealize Lion secondaries who seem able to "speak their truth" whenever and however they want.

However, when it comes to solving problems you are extremely Badger. You have a Bookkeeper Badger aspect that you love, and is extremely near and dear to your heart, but you also have a Courtier Badger that you're much more conflicted about. Partly this is because you have a very negative interpretation of what it means to be a Courtier Badger, and partly this is because you've got a constricting Badger performance that you squish yourself into.

So basically... yeah. It's fine to be a Badger secondary who exists in single-player mode most of the time. And it's okay to be a Badger secondary who is really, really direct. Heck, Doctor House is a Badger secondary.

~ thanks @luftschl0ss for the submission ~

#house is a snake badger #for anyone who is interested #sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #lion primary #badger secondary #lion secondary #bookkeeper badger #courtier badger #badgersec #lionpri #lion badger

[moonlit-han]

the perfect cup of coffee ↠ lee minho

genre: fluff, office au word count: 2k warnings: none, unless you really don’t like coffee? request: no (for junhuisflower​, who wrote the initial idea for this fic) a/n: i am reposting this fic because the first time i posted it, on June 13, 2020, it didn’t show up in the general tags. so, i hope you all enjoy it this second time around!

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

In his impeccably neat and well-fitting suit, Lee Minho walked into the office where he held the position of Manager in Chief. This was not his official title, but one that he had chosen for himself; after all, he did manage just about everything and everyone, when it came down to it.

In reality, Minho was the Assistant to the Administrative Director of the company and was, in theory, meant to delegate the more menial tasks to others. However, this never occurred because Minho did not trust others to do work he knew he could do better. Over that which was not in his job description and, therefore, the responsibility of others, Minho still attempted to exert control. Thus, he was the Manager in Chief. Everything in Minho’s world had to perfect, or as perfect as Minho could contrive.

As he arrived at the office and reached for the company suite’s door, automatically passing something that was not there from one hand to the other, Minho stopped. He’d forgotten his coffee. How had he forgotten his coffee? This was practically unheard of, since he made his coffee at home and brought it to work with him. He did not fully trust coffee made by others.

Coffee was one of the many things that Minho insisted on being perfect. While he cared that his clothes were appropriately smart for the workplace and he prided himself on his small but wonderfully efficient car, he could manage for a time without them being in perfect condition. But, he absolutely had to have perfect coffee. In terms of non-essential costs, Minho spent the most on his cats (plenty of little treats, baubles, and warm places to sleep) and his coffee (fair trade, organic coffee made with care and attention). He was forever trying new ways of brewing coffee, and considered himself a bit of a connoisseur. Oftentimes, he’d even add some cardamom to the coffee as it brewed for a little extra spice and sweetness. Having such wonderfully delicious coffee was the high point of Minho’s day, a way he coped with the monotony of work.

So, when he arrived at the office and had no coffee, Minho was incensed. Sighing and grumbling to himself, he pushed through the door and made his way to his desk. He had back-to-back-to-back meetings and was responsible for leading one of them; so, he needed the caffeine to get through his day. His schedule was so busy that he couldn’t go back out to buy coffee, and couldn’t go back home to make himself a proper cup. Damn. It was against his every rule for coffee consumption to drink that which had not been made by him and to his particular specifications. Well, there was nothing to do now but go into the office’s lounge and drink the fluid that might just pass for coffee.

Minho’s coworkers looked up as they saw him move toward the lounge. Was he really going to drink coffee here? they whispered among themselves. They remained quiet as he passed, not wanting to disturb him in case his lack of coffee unleashed a hitherto unseen wrath (or wraith, even).

As he pushed open the door of the lounge, Minho made a noise of disgust as he took in the smell: a ground-in kind of odor from years of low quality coffee that had seeped into the wood and cushions of the lounge’s chairs and sofa. But today, there was a sweetness floating over the sourness of the smell of old, bad coffee. Perhaps someone had simply brought coffee from the outside world into the room and the dregs still lingered in a cup in the recycling.

Resigning himself to drinking the coffee—Maybe if he gulped down the horrid stuff, he could just get it over with?—Minho took down one of the mugs kept in the cabinet above the coffee maker. As he poured the dark liquid into the cup, a richly sweet and nutty smell met his nose.

Wait, what?

This was the communal coffee pot in the employee lounge of his office. Good coffee pouring out of that pot shouldn’t be possible. Surely his senses were fooling him and the taste would be just as weak and grimy as it had been the one other time he’d made the mistake of trying it.

Gingerly, he stirred a little cream into the mug. Squeezing his eyes shut as if to ward off the assuredly inherent shitty-ness of the coffee, Minho hesitantly raised the mug to his lips and sipped.

His eyes flew open in surprise. This was some of the best coffee he’d ever tasted. Minho took another sip, savoring the taste of the brew. He was stunned, absolutely stunned. He had to find out who had made this wonderful coffee. It was imperative to his proper functioning, since this coffee would now be a regular feature of his daydreams.

During each of his meetings that day, Minho took a minute at the end to ask if anyone knew who’d made the coffee that day. No one knew. With each shake of someone’s head and each “No” he heard, Minho became increasingly more frustrated. How could no one know who’d made the coffee?

The next day, he asked around the office again, but still, no one knew. On the third day, Minho decided to stop asking his coworkers for fear of seeming obsessed, despite the fact that he really was obsessed with the question of who had made that coffee.

Several weeks passed with Minho occasionally checking, with the utmost secrecy, the contents of the office’s communal coffee pot. It was uniformly horrible. But after a full month of furtive coffee sampling, Minho’s work paid off.

It was a Friday morning and he’d ambled into the break room to just spend some time away from the (non-existent) noise of the office. He was surprised to find someone already there … making coffee.

��Hello, Mr. Lee,” she said brightly. “How are you this morning?”

Minho stared at the young woman as she continued making the coffee. So, this is our new hire, he thought, noting the grace with which she moved.

“Mr. Lee?” she prompted.

Minho shook himself. “I’m sorry,” he searched his memory for her name, “Ms. L/N, isn’t it? I’m well, thank you. I hope you’re having a stress-free morning.” Minho leaned against the wall by the counter where Y/N methodically measured tablespoon after tablespoon of rich, dark coffee into the coffee maker. He noticed that it had been cleaned, too. “Do you make coffee here often, Ms. L/N?”

Damn it, that sounded like the worst pick-up line ever, Minho chided himself.

Y/N laughed softly. “Not really, since I’ve only been here a month, Mr. Lee. Would you like a cup when I’m done making this?”

“Oh, yes. Thanks,” Minho said, still in a bit of a daze. Huh, did she make that delicious coffee, then?

“Is it alright if I add some cardamom? I think it gives the coffee a deep, interesting flavor,” Y/N said before she closed the lid of the appliance.

Minho thought he’d died and gone to heaven in that moment; all he could do was nod. Y/N produced a small container of cardamom—she said she’d ground it that morning—and added a bit to the ground coffee. Minho watched as Y/N finished preparing the coffee, thinking to himself. Then, they sat in surprisingly easy silence as the smell of brewing coffee began to suffuse the room, filling Minho’s world. Leaning back in a chair, Y/N had a blissful look on her face at the aroma.

The coffee maker made a gurgling noise as it shut off, and Y/N rose to her feet. She withdrew two mugs from the cabinet, then went to her bag and produced a thermos and a jar of honey. Minho looked on as Y/N poured out the coffee, then measured out honey into one mug.

“Would you like some?” she asked, proffering the honey.

“Definitely,” Minho said, excitedly. “I rarely meet anyone else who puts honey in their coffee.” He smiled, dropping his earlier formal manner.

“Really? It’s the best. You know,” Y/N continued, spooning honey into his mug, “I’ve never met anyone else—other than a Turkish friend, at least—who puts cardamom in their coffee.”

“I had it when I was traveling and fell in love,” Minho said, then cleared his throat self-consciously. How was he talking with her this easily? “And, Ms. L/N, you’re welcome to call me Minho. You are, after all, the Assistant to the Artistic Director here, so our positions are equal.”

“Oh! Well, in that case, my name is Y/N.” She grinned and opened the metal canister, which Minho saw was full of cream. “Do you want to put yours in? I know people are particular about cream in drinks.”

Taking the thermos, Minho thanked Y/N and noticed that his heartbeat was pounding a little louder than he expected. Then again, perhaps not so unexpectedly as he was about to drink what he knew would be delicious coffee. He poured in just enough cream to turn the coffee the color of dark amber, then brought the mug to his lips.

“Enjoy!” Y/N said, smiling brightly as she took back her thermos and stowed it and the other containers in her bag.

Minho took a sip, and almost dropped the mug in surprise. It was just like the coffee he had tasted several weeks ago, and, really, even better. He savored the coffee, taking sip after sip as Y/N looked on.

“Is it good?” Y/N asked hesitantly, not drinking from her own mug yet.

“It’s delicious, Y/N, it really is,” Minho sighed, feeling as if he were drinking ambrosia. “Did you happen to make coffee for the office a few weeks ago?”

Surprise overtook pride on Y/N’s face as she chirped, “Yeah, I did!  Did you have some then?”

“I’ve been trying to find who’d made that coffee ever since,” Minho said, smiling at how odd that must sound. “I just really like coffee, and yours was incredible.”

Y/N blushed furiously and tried to hide her face by taking a sip from her own mug. “Thanks, Minho” she murmured. “I’m glad you liked it!”

Minho couldn’t help but smile softly at how cute Y/N looked when he complimented her coffee. Her dimples even came out when she smiled.

How is she that pretty? Minho groaned to himself. Shit. Well, what do I have to lose?

“Y/N,” Minho said tentatively, and Y/N looked up, her cheeks still pink. “So, there’s this coffee shop I love to go to and they have all sorts of unusual blends—it’s really quite lovely. Forgive me for being so forward, but may I take you there? I’m sure you’d enjoy it!” He rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. “But only if you’d like, and it doesn’t have to be anything more than two coworkers getting coffee together. I don’t mean to sound like I’m asking you out or anything,” Minho rambled, then stopped, knowing he’d probably said too much already.

“I’d love to!” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe we will be two friends getting coffee … or maybe something else?”

Minho’s eyes went wide in amazement as he made a little noise that could be taken as a question or a plea for clarification.

Y/N shrugged as she picked up her bag and went over to the door. “You’ll have to wait and see,” she said and winked, leaving Minho to stand in the office lounge, staring at the door.

Still unable to process his luck—was that it?—Minho took another sip of coffee. It was just as delicious as Y/N was sweet. This was going to be quite interesting indeed.

#ultkpop #0325net #inkidz #lee minho #skz minho #lee know #lee minho fanfic #lee minho fluff #lee minho angst #lee minho imagines #lee minho scenarios #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz angst #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #lee minho drabbles #skz drabbles #.moonlight #moonlit-han

[bilbobagginsbrainrotblog]

Well I saw we had hit 150 followers last night, and decided I would wait till the next morning to think of what to do to celebrate, and then:

So, welcome! 😘💕🎊✨🎈🎉🎉🎊🎈🎉 I'm overwehelmed by all the cool blogs who have been following/interacting with my posts through tags and reblogs recently. I'm not sure what to do to properly celebrate, so here are just a few things I'm opening for the next few weeks:

Drawings! I'm slowly trying to work on improving my art, but I'm still a complete (and obvious) beginner. That said I need lots of practice, so for the next month (until the 30'th of July) I'll be taking any quick sketch requests you have! I can't guarantee they will be decent looking, but I'll do my best with anything LoTR/Tolkien (as long as it's not in the DNI section of my pinned post). You can look at the #myart tag to see some of my prev. work

Ficlets! Same rules as above. I'll write a short (probably 500 words or so) drabble about anything Tolkien related, including x reader's if that's your thing. Just none of the obvious stuff (incest, pedophilia, etc), and you can be as vague or specific as you like!

Gif Requests! You can request a scene, a character, a color pallet, a "make me choose", a favorite, etc! This one's wide open!

Edits/MV's: got an idea for a great song/character/ship pairing? Shoot it my way and I'll do my best! These take a bit longer and I can't do insanely fancy stuff (my new version of vegas doesn't have sapphire plugins 😤) but I can do simple things. Check out my youtube for other edits I've made.

General Questions: Obviously, my ask box is always open if anyone wants to chat, but I just want to reiterate that I really really do want to hear from you guys! Any headcannons/theories/thoughts/questions you have, please send them my way! I really do want to interact with/get to know you all! And again, thanks so much for 160 followers!

#ill probably rb this a few times so my peeps from different time zones see it #so sorry if you see it a few times! #160 follower celebration #lotr #tolkien #the hobbit #art requests open #gif request #gif requests open #writing requests #lord of the rings #the silmarillion