#I still remember over a year ago when most of tumblr was into AI and argued it was actually

[bixels]

I agree; we live in a wildly different public consciousness than the average person. I'll hear about my uncle generating an AI image of his family as the Avengers for Facebook and will say, "that's fun," because I know he's having fun with his family.

But (in response to folks in the notes, not OP) let's not pretend like artists are being unreasonable when we act frustrated or angry. AI memes, fine, whatever, but AI art is not harmless. It's not a topic that artists are removed from and are forcefully inserting ourselves into, we've been unwillingly involved since day one. We know that behind each piece of AI art is a real artist who didn't want this to happen. I have friends whose entire art styles and OCs––fucking OCs––were ripped into a image database, then sold as prompts on AI marketplaces. We have a reason to be mad. Our anger may be counterproductive, but is it apt.

Like it or not, AI art is intrinsically tied to labor politics. It isn't a online-only ideological mini culture war, it's a real problem that's happening in real life to real people.It's just slow enough and quiet enough to not make any big eye-catching waves. It only seems "online-only" because that's where the majority of people have the easiest, most direct contact with the artists who are affected and raising discourse. Just because discourse is happening online doesn't mean it's inconsequential in real life. It doesn't seem real to your average person because art is widely perceived as a "get a real job" hobby, not a viable career that's tied to labor politics or a passion that deserves respect or protection. Take it from an artist who has the great fortune (/s) of attending a tech school. Someone who doesn't know about this and ends up getting blasted will think you're insane. But let's not pretend like getting angry about people fueling an unfair situation that's affecting our livelihoods is insane too.

the thing about ai art is that to most normal, not-overly-online people, its just a little internet gimmick for them to play around with, akin to flash games or funny videos. if you see someone trying it and you come into their inbox telling them they are a horrible person who wants to starve artists, without first explaining the hundred tumblr soundbites and mini culture wars youve immersed yourself in to get to that conclusion, they are probably going to think you are fucking insane

[softpine]

@bb-enablefreebuild LITERALLYYYYYYY i even have this exact image saved in my asa & finn web weaving folder jfksjds it's so them, even the hands 😭

@forgotten-pixels oh yeah he definitely has a wikipedia page!! his first single was a pretty big hit and even though his other work hasn't been as mainstream, he's contributed to a bunch of other artists' work so he's still well known in certain circles. i also think he's JUST famous enough to get those weird AI generated articles written about him, like "remember the guy who sang [song title from 15 years ago]? this is him now!!" because he's not well known enough for people to realize it's false / clickbait lmao. (btw you never have to apologize for asking questions!! i love them at any time 🥺)

asa has a regular phone but he may as well not have one at all because he quite literally never charges it or brings it anywhere fjkjsds stevie is the one who's always switching out her phone case & never gets around to putting a screen protector on so her screen is definitely cracked, i think elaine probably loses her phone the most on accident, and jada will say she lost her phone even when it's ringing in her hand because she just doesn't want to answer. if we still had texting limits stevie would use that shit up in half an hour, if that!!

his intentions were good...... his execution however..... leaves a lot to be desired

i'm so sorry my brain cannot even think about april fools right now without the dan and phil brainrot fully taking over 😭😭😭 no other pranks exist in my brain at the moment i can't even think of any sjksjd i could definitely see mikaela & danny pranking each other though

HELPPP this is so funny but i'm gonna have to say casper, there is no way he knows what that is

thank you for the idea!! i'm trying to avoid sending people a patreon link for written work; even if it's free (and it would be), there's still a connotation that it would cost money and i'm afraid no one would even click the link to read it (plus i've already used my patreon for cc so i'm afraid i would annoy the people who followed me for that content). ughhhh but thank you for trying :(

i'm really bummed about substack because it looked like the easiest way to accomplish what i want to accomplish but i'm sure i'll find something eventually. thanks for the interest 🥺

i would love to, but tumblr has a 30 pic limit and also i need to cut myself off at some point because otherwise i could literally spend months on 1 single post lmao 😭

you were right :P :P

i forgot about that too!! iirc wasn't it just dependent on the number of sims you have & their ages? asa bounces between caroline's and danny's houses so he would change the difficulty, but the mayfields would always have the highest rating because they also have sadie & the farm animals to take care of!

yes definitely!! just please credit the original mesh creator if applicable (i always list them) 💝

i forgot to answer this when you sent it, but i did read it right away and it made me smile, so thank you 💖💖

it really is the most attractive trait a person can have to me fjkjsds did you ever hear from that guy btw?? 💕

THANK YOUUU kisses you back one thousand times 💖💖💖

@minamill ILYYY ����

@morrigan-sims thank you!!!! 🥺

[spikeinthepunch]

i made a post a bit ago before the reddit black out even happened, talking about how many AI written articles i find when searching for answers on stuff- usually things a little more specific (questions for video games, tech, everyday things but more specific to you, etc. not just "what city is this state in"). its bad- i basically get that or i get reddit threads when i google. and before the reddit black out, i hadnt thought too much about how those AI threads would be.... the only thing left behind if i didnt have reddit. still i watched the reddit black out live, i watched /r/funny go private at midnight. and yet it didnt really hit the importance of reddit until i went on the next day looking for help on a mac laptop i was restoring and realized all the reddits i checked were private. needing mod help for my server, all private. searching reddit for a game i couldnt remember, private.

theres a lot on the internet that needs to be preserved, kept alive, kept relevant. over and over i see people reminisce on old forums and how theyre gone and be brought back- and i think no ones follows through with the format because places like reddit at least fulfill that to some extent. staying with the mainstream is easier and its understandable, bc its relevant and trying to start up your little forum and advertise it isnt easy. Reddit being mainstream becomes the useful google option for a niche forum subject without being a lone forum you probably wont find in typical google search.

and now Reddit isn't available. the most mainstream iteration of those lovely little forums of discussion and support is not available. does it hit now? does it sink in now how bad this is? the past year- maybe even less than a year- has been so so chaotic and bad for the internet. instagram starting turning into tiktok a while back with its changes to feed and format. youtube has slowly followed suit with forcing short's as more relevant for creators than normal videos. twitter did... well, all of That, a lot of Things. Reddit goes along to make their API paid for. Discord turning to the methods on social media, with username changes and more. tumblr is also shifting so much of their entire deal, i think you should all be prepared for tumblr to become unrecognizable too because theres many hints of it happening- some already here.

when i made my personal website over a year ago, it was partially fun but it was a statement for myself too. it was recognition that social media had become unhealthy for me, and i didnt like how it was The thing that existed now, and that bigs corps suddenly taking more and more control of the web was bad and not something i wanted to be stuck with. but suddenly its not just a gentle step to the side i have taken, still knowing i can be on social media to see my friends and build an audience. but now it feels more like all the walls are crumbling around me, and soon i will have no choice but to jump ship entirely. i went from one, to the other, to tumblr where i had always been- the one site that stuck out from the others at least. had an 'old' format. in many ways you need social media.... because its how you made your friends, its how you stay in touch, its how communities get built these days!!

we can try to move back to the independent, the personal sites, the forums, but we all know its not easy. thats truth. its not going to spread as far as we'd hope, many will not follow suit or not know they can. i can only imagine all the old, tech unaware people who will continue to use the internet, never realizing why they struggle to get info or unknowingly follow nonsense AI articles, and have no idea that anything exists outside of the bubble theyre forced into. Not even the old people, but the young generations that will grow into that too and not get out of it.

im just waiting for the mainstream internet to just become entirely unusable from our perspective and its dreadful to me. trying not to be a doomer but i dont think its something you cant ignore when something as simple as googling slightly more specific questions brings nothing but AI nonsense articles or reddit posts and when one of those massive and only relevant sources is down, there is suddenly nothing.

[flightyquinn]

I'd like to share something with you, Tumblr.

When I first played D&D 3.5, many years ago now, I played a bard named Wren, using a homebrew race that you could find on the official Wizards forums around that time called the Kassuri. He was a goofy little manlet with the ears and tail of a fox who knew no fear. He got to ride on the back of a luck dragon.

He tamed a shocker lizard and named it Tazer. He once drank a whole bucket of dwarven ale without getting drunk, and then shouted, "I said a large glass!" and another time bluffed a group of elven soldiers that the Half-orc paladin was his pet. When a demon killed his mentor, he avenged them and made a coat out of the demon's wings.

He fought his former friend turned enemy, almost died, and won. He got knighted by his king after starting the campaign exiled from his homeland, and then prayed so hard to be a better person that his alignment shifted right before going to face the final boss. When he realized the BBEG was sensitive to sounds and played a heavy metal lute solo so sick that it literally caused their Fortress of Evil to collapse.

It was a silly game, played fast and loose by a group that only half understood the rules, but it was a blast to play. After having some not-so-good experiences with AD&D (may I never forget The Exploding Cleric), it was the first game I ever played to the end of a campaign. I loved the game, and I love my group from back then...Hothgoth, Lios, Pixie, Elena, Leif, and even the others who came in later and didn't stick around as long. I've held onto those memories, and my beloved "first successful character", ever since.

Until the tail end of last year, I never had any decent art of him.

This is Wren, almost perfectly as I envisioned him all those years ago.

The sad truth is, unless you're an artist yourself, it can be hard to get character art for TTRPGs. Most people I know in the hobby don't have a lot of money, and even if they do you never know how long a character may last before getting killed by bad rolls. Back in the day, for the game Wren is from, we just used a text description and imagined the character. These days, most people I know use a virtual table top. Characters need tokens (and usually profile pictures for when other players check the sheet), and for hardcore players like me that are in several games a week, that's a lot of art that could need swapped out on a moment's notice.

The sad truth is, people just steal it. Even the people I know who are artists steal art, only really drawing characters they get attached to. We discuss what images would be good for characters, show one-another what we've found, and it's not uncommon to decide details about a character based on what kind of a picture you can find for them. So...when AI art started becoming a thing, I got excited.

Artist Tumblr probably noticed right away that the picture up there is AI generated. It's a pretty good output, but there's still telltale signs. Yes I notice them, and no they don't bother me. It's better than any of the attempts I ever made at doing a picture myself, and even if I could afford a picture of that level of quality, who knows if the artist I found would be able to fully understand my description the way I see it in my head, or if they would be willing to put in the time and effort to revise it to my satisfaction. It was going to be imperfect either way, but I was able to take time (a frankly ridiculous amount) to tweak things and start over and try different approaches until it was to my satisfaction.

...and like I said, I make a lot of characters. Now, instead of just finding some picture I like and stealing it wholesale, I end up generating a lot of character art. It's just for my personal use either way, and thanks to AI, I get to express my own ideas.

I know some people out there are abusing the technology to make a quick buck, but please remember that's a fault of those people. There are people abusing just about every technology out there. For other people, who are only trying to use it to express themselves or to do things without needing an additional skillset they don't have, AI art is a godsend.

[just-eyris-things]

As far as I am concerned you can always yell about Airell and Risha and I'd love to read more about them

😳👉👈you...you would? 😳👉👈

well when it comes to Airell, I've been thinking a lot about them lately. Think 24/7 kind of a lot. Over the years, Airell has changed a lot. The initial idea for them was a fuckboy and comedic relief. Think in the lines of "i like your pants" "thanks they were 50% off" "i'd prefer them 100% off" "that's a horrible way to run business" (i saw this on tumblr ages ago and it still lives in my head somehow). But then I gave them feelings. Backstory. I slowly made them into what they are today. But! Some parts of first draft-Airell remain in my head, like him being flirty and hooking up often. It doesn't really suit his most-current version, so I am trying to find a way to somehow put it all in so it's all cohesive, but it's hard ;w;

also i am really !!!!! about AUs I have with Airell! I have a dragon AU, a witch and familiar AU, werewolves, vampires, sirens, SO MANY AUs, I don't remember them all anymore! But they are all so fun and I wish I was more of a writer so I could just...write it all without being horribly cringe. considering how much cringe content I come up with, I am genuinely surprised my friends don't call me cringe queen yet.

there was also an idea of a name change, because i got kinda bored with it but i cant think of anything cool + if i changed their name i'd have to say no to the ship name "ai<3hearne" which is just... yknow... 👉👈

god i love airell so much.

now, Risha... Risha Sero is my OC from an interactive fiction called Wayfarer. It's really fun and I love it and I advise everyone to sit down and read it.

Risha is an asshole. But you love him anyway. He is not really strong, but he is smart. He will use your strength against you and he will talk his way out of majority of problems. He has a silver tongue. He also has daddy and mommy issues, both for different reason. His father was absent for majority of his life, despising the child that had no magic abilities. His mother was a loving woman, a literal angel!!!! but one day she sent Risha away without much explanation and he lost touch with her. He doesn't resent her, but he wonders...why? He was deeply hurt by it, as an adult he laughs it off very often but deep down he knows he is afraid of finding out the truth - so he doesn't look for it.

Risha is a member of the Wayfarer order. the order has become his family and he would do anything for them. He is especially fond of his childhood friend, Aeran (NPC) and for majority of his life he lives in denial of his feelings until it's impossible to push them down anymore. Another bestie he has is Rienna Cenric, whom he also got to know in the Order. Risha and Rienna have a sibling-like relationship.

Risha really likes horses. Think GW2 Gorrik but instead of bug it's horses. He once gambled in an inn and won a few horses. Sadly, he couldn't keep them all. He always gets some horse keychain or something of that sort from Rienna - she always thinks of her little brother when she sees those and if she has a few crowns laying around, she sure will buy him something.

[asset35-maya]

REUNION

Dear friends, followers. 

It’s me, Maya.

I’ve not been writing for a very long time because of work and other priorities in life, but I seriously plan to get back to it. I began writing fanfic two years ago as practice for creating concepts, narratives and character arcs without the pressure of original worldbuilding.

My secret dream is to write for film someday and run my own production company. I have some very strong ideas and hope to make them come alive in the next few years. For now, I will most likely juggle my IRL responsibilities and get some more practice/wordcount under my belt.

I might not always be successful, but I will try my level best to: A)finish my WIPs in the DBH and MCYT RPF fandoms and B)practice screenwriting and pieces required for film/television production.

Thank you to those who’ve supported me in the past. I hope you’ll stick around as I continue my writing journey, and give me notes if you can. (By notes, I mean feedback.. but tumblr notes would be awesome too!!)

To kick things off, here is a Treatment I’ve written for a spinoff from a popular but cancelled Netflix series called Altered Carbon:

//

A CTAC soldier named Maya is spun up over 200 years after her organic death. The last memory she has is coming home from an offworld mission and getting her stack blown through her throat intact before she could even set her keys down. 

She finds her hometown on Earth largely unchanged. Cars fly, acid pours from the sky and nature is well and truly dead. The same Meths run everything, vapid and uncaring as ever. The quirky AI love hotels aren’t thriving like they used to but they’re definitely still around.

Her husband still lives in their apartment in midtown Bay City. David is CTAC Special Forces and incredibly valuable to the Protectorate. After two centuries of elite operations and resleeving on demand, the rank he bears is astronomically higher than Maya remembers. Mild surprise is all he expresses when she storms back into the tiny kitchen she died in.

He greets her like an acquaintance and informs her, almost as an afterthought, that their little boy is dead. RD-ed in conflict about twenty years after her attack. Top of his military cohort and as talented as his mother. They never found his stack. Likely destroyed by the Envoys he was fighting. Maya is overcome with grief for the toddler she never saw grow up. Her husband asks if she’ll stay for dinner.

She doesn’t have much time to dwell on the past. Maya soon finds herself in the employ of a powerful Meth who carried her stack along with several others on a key ring. The Meth is oddly kind, but ignores all her questions. The only clues come from the Meth’s wayward daughter, Ariel. A raging alcoholic who gets a new liver 3D-printed every week. It’s easy to hate the girl, but Maya’s irritation quickly disappears when she recognizes the tarnished wedding ring on Ariel’s finger. It is her own. And the wretched woman is her son’s widow.

Maya tries in vain to sit her monosyllabic husband down for a talk. His evasive responses frustrate her to no end and one evening, she slaps him across the face in a burst of rage. The tears in his eyes immediately tell her who’s been wearing her husband’s sleeve all this time... and Maya can’t believe it took her that long to recognize her own child. 

It’s extremely odd and she’s doubly thankful she made no attempt to rekindle any romance since her return. She wipes his tears and cups his jaw like she used to when he was nervous to board the school bus. They smile shakily at each other, both hyperaware of the irony of the situation. Between his father’s sleeve and his own stack, she’s coddling the most lethal fighter in the entire Protectorate.

“Robin... you need to tell me now. It’s okay. You’ve been very brave but I’m here now. You can tell me. Where is your father?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Robin…”

“I promise, Ma. He’s as safe as you were all this time.”

The Meth’s key ring jingles in the back of Maya’s mind. She drops his jaw and steps back in shock. It would be so, so easy to burst back into her boss’s office and rip the ring of stacks out of his hand. But she knows better than that.

“Why?”

“Dad wanted to hide us all. So I helped him.”

“And your wife helped you?” 

“Ariel didn’t really know that she did but... yes.” 

“How did you-”

“I put on Dad’s sleeve and handed her two stacks. Yours. Dad’s.”

Maya closes her eyes as her worst suspicion is confirmed. It was David who’d pulled the gun on her all those lifetimes ago. It was David who’d scooped her stack up from the bloodied floor with utmost love and care. It was David who’d turned their son into their saviour.

“Told her it was the Envoys who killed her husband, and when the time came, we would spin them back up to make things right.”

“She’s been waiting 200 years for you to make good on that promise?”

“Her family would never doubt a word to come out of a CTAC officer’s mouth.”

“Okay. So why am I here now, Robin?”

“Laurens Bancroft just pulled Takeshi Kovacs out of prison.”

The second name rings a bell, and Maya claps a hand over her eyes as yet another suspicion is confirmed. David had always been a little too intrigued by the literature of Quellcrist Falconer. It was an interest that went above and beyond knowing one’s enemy. She’d warned him about it plenty of times. Robin probably remembered the dinner table arguments too. But here they were, 200 years hence. A family of three with their heads in the lion’s mouth, banking on the last Envoy to do something crazy and finally set them all free.

[mugasofer]

It seems like many, perhaps most, people historically believed in some immanent apocalypse.

Many philosophies claim that the world is passing into a degenerate age of chaos (Ages of Man, Kali Yuga, life-cycle of civilisation), or divine conflict will shortly spill over & destroy the Earth (Ragnorok, Revelations, Zoroastrian Frashokereti), or that the natural forces sustaining us must be transient.

Yet few panic or do anything. What anyone does "do about it" is often symbolic & self-admittedly unlikely to do much.

Maybe humans evolved not to care, to avoid being manipulated?

Many cults make similar claims, and do uproot their lives around them. Even very rarely committing mass suicide or terror attacks etc on occasion. But cults exist that don't make such claims, so it may not be the mechanism they use to control, or at most a minor one. "This is about the fate of the whole world, nothing can be more important than that, so shut up" may work as as a thought terminating cliche, but it doesn't seem to work that strongly, and there are many at least equally effective ones.

Some large scale orgs do exist that seem to take their eschatology "seriously". The Aztecs committed atrocities trying to hold off apocalypse, ISIS trying to cause it. Arguably some Communist or even fascist groups count, depending on your definition of apocalypse.

But even then, one can argue their actions are not radically different from non-apocalypse-motivated ones - e.g. the Aztecs mass-executed less per capita than the UK did at times & some historians view them as more about displaying authority.

I'm thinking about this because of two secular eschatologies - climate apocalypse and the Singularity.

My view on climate change, which as far as I can tell is the scientific consensus, is that it is real and bad but by no means apocalyptic. We're talking incremental increases in storms, droughts, floods etc, all of which are terrible, but none of which remotely threaten human civilisation. E.g. according to the first Google result, the sea is set to rise by 1 decimeter by 2100 in a "high emissions scenario", not to rise by tens or hundreds of meters and consume all coastal nations as I was taught as a child. Some more drastic projections suggest that the sea might rise by as much as two or three meters in the worst case scenario.

It really creeps me out when I hear people who confess to believe that human civilisation, the human species, or even all life on Earth is most likely going to be destroyed soon by climate change. The most recent example, which prompted this post, was the Call of Cthulhu podcast I was listening to casually suggesting that it might be a good idea to summon an Elder God of ice and snow to combat climate change as the "lesser existential risk", perhaps by sacrificing "climate skeptics" to it. It's incredibly jarring for me to realise that the guys I've been listening to casually chatting about RPGs think they live in a world that will shortly be ended by the greed of it's rulers. But this idea is everywhere. Discussions of existential risks from e.g. pandemics inevitably attract people arguing that the real existential risk is climate change. A major anti-global-warming protest movement, Extinction Rebellion, is literally named after the idea that they're fighting against their own extinction. Viral Tumblr posts talk about how the fear of knowing that the world is probably going to be destroyed soon by climate change and fascism is crippling their mental health, and they have no idea how to deal with it because it's all so real.

But it's not. It's not real.

Well, I can't claim that political science is accurate enough for me to definitively say that fascism isn't going to take over, but I can say that climate science is fairly accurate and it predicts that the world is definitely not about to end in fire or in flood.

(There are valid arguments that climate change or other environmental issues might precipitate wars, which could turn apocalyptic due to nuclear weapons; or that we might potentially encounter a black swan event due to our poor understanding of the ecosystem and climate-feedback systems. But these are very different, as they're self-admittedly "just" small risks to the world.)

And I get the impression that a lot of people with more realistic views about climate change deliberately pander to this, deliberately encouraging people to believe that they're going to die because it puts them on the "right side of the issue". The MCU's Loki, for instance, recently casually brought up a "climate apocalypse" in 2050, which many viewers took as meaning the world ending. Technically, the show uses a broad definition of "apocalypse" - Pompeii is given as another example - and it kind of seems like maybe all they meant was natural disasters encouraged by climate change, totally defensible. But I still felt kinda mad about it, that they're deliberately pandering to an idea which they hopefully know is false and which is causing incredible anxiety in people. I remember when Greta Thurnberg was a big deal, I read through her speeches to Extinction Rebellion, and if you parsed them closely it seemed like she actually did have a somewhat realistic understanding of what climate change is. But she would never come out and say it, it was all vague implications of doom, which she was happily giving to a rally called "Extinction Rebellion" filled with speakers who were explicitly stating, not just coyly implying, that this was a fight for humanity's survival against all the great powers of the world.

But maybe there's nothing wrong with that. I despise lying, but as I've been rambling about, this is a very common lie that most people somehow seem unaffected by. Maybe the viral tumblr posts are wrong about the source of their anxiety; maybe it's internal/neurochemical and they world just have picked some other topic to project their anxieties on if this particular apocalypse wasn't available. Maybe this isn't a particularly harmful lie, and it's hypocritical of me to be shocked by those who believe it.

Incidentally, I believe the world is probably going to end within the next fifty years.

Intellectually, I find the arguments that superhuman AI will destroy the world pretty undeniable. Sure, forecasting the path of future technology is inherently unreliable. But the existence of human brains, some of which are quite smart, proves pretty conclusively it's possible to get lumps of matter to think - and human brains are designed to run on the tiny amounts of energy they can get by scavenging plants and the occasional scraps of meat in the wilderness as fuel, with chemical signals that propagate at around the speed of sound (much slower than electronic ones), with only the data they can get from input devices they carry around with them, and which break down irrevocably after a few decades. And while we cannot necessarily extrapolate from the history of progress in both computer hardware and AI, that progress is incredibly impressive, and there's no particular reason to believe it will fortuitously stop right before we manufacture enough rope to hang ourselves.

Right now, at time of writing, we have neural nets that can write basic code, appear to scale linearly in effectiveness with the available hardware with no signs that we're reaching their limit, and have not yet been applied at the current limits of available hardware let alone what will be available in a few years. They absorb information like a sponge at a vastly superhuman speed and scale, allowing them to be trained in days or hours rather than the years or decades humans require. They are already human-level or massively superhuman at many tasks, and are capable of many things I would have confidently told you a few years ago were probably impossible without human-level intelligence, like the crazy shit AI dungeon is capable of. People are actively working on scaling them up so that they can work on and improve the sort of code they are made from. And we have no ability to tell what they're thinking or control them without a ton of trial and error.

If you follow this blog, you're probably familiar with all the above arguments for why we're probably very close to getting clobbered by superhuman AI, and many more, as well as all the standard counter-arguments and the counter-arguments to those counter arguments.

(Note: I do take some comfort in God, but even if my faith were so rock solid that I would cheerfully bet the world on it - which it's not - there's no real reason why our purpose in God's plan couldn't be to destroy ourselves or be destroyed as an object lesson to some other, more important civilization. There's ample precedent.)

Here's the thing: I'm not doing anything about it, unless you count occasionally, casually talking about it with people online. I'm not even donating to help any of the terrifyingly-few people who are trying to do something about it. Part of why I'm not contributing is, frankly, I don't have a clue what to do, nor do I have much confidence in any of the stuff people are currently doing (although I bloody well hope some of it works.)

And yet I don't actually feel that scared.

I feel more of a visceral chill reading about the nuclear close calls that almost destroyed the world in the recent past than thinking about the stuff that has a serious chance of doing so in a few decades. I'm a neurotic mess, and yet what is objectively the most terrifying thing on my radar does not actually seem to contribute to my neurosis.

[5hadow-alpha]

A Rambly New Year’s Message for the Thunderfam

So it’s almost a new year, and that means taking a bit of time to look back on the last twelve months and everything that has happened. Admittedly 2020 has been, to put it bluntly, awful. But there is one thing that has made it bearable.

You guys. The Thunderfam.

I’ve been on Tumblr for about five months now, and like every newbie I’ve seen on here, have been welcomed with open arms into an incredible family of people I am so, so proud to be a part of. It’s almost contradictory to feel so close to a group of people I have never even met.

I’ve always been wary of social media, and the few apps I do have are used for messaging friends - I don’t post or react to anything. Yet somehow you guys have given me the confidence to put up drawings and even a story, and like and reblog and comment and still feel safe. Occasionally it’s still hard to pluck up the courage to interact, and sometimes I can’t comment because I’m so amazed by what I’ve seen someone create that I can’t find any words that would justify it, so a like or a reblog has to do. I’ve gone from laughing until my stomach hurts, to literally sitting on the edge of my seat, to crying my eyes out a couple of minutes later, all because of the incredible talent I see on my feed every day.

I’ve also lurked in the shadows of a few fandoms over the years, and have watched them slowly die once the shows have ended. It’s heart-breaking to see, but even though TAG is over (for now! We can always hope) we’re still thriving. My biggest regret is not discovering Tumblr five years ago because I would have loved to watch this fandom grow and blossom into what it is today.

I wish there was some way to let everyone who worked on the show, or even any part of the Thunderbirds franchise, to see what an amazing community of people we’ve built here. Because then they would be able to see what an incredible thing they’ve done by bringing us all together. You lot are a fantastic group of people who just personify everything that International Rescue and the Thunderbirds stand for. You’re there to catch people when they’re falling and put them back on their feet, and there’s so much kindness and love here that is almost impossible to find out there in the big wide world.

To quote a certain dark-haired pilot we all know and love, “when you send out an SOS, you deserve to know there’s someone out there. Listening.”

That is completely and totally you guys.

I’ve seen the SOS posts on my feed and I’ve felt awful because I haven’t been able to do much for you aside from a fairly feeble attempt at support in the form of a few words. I don’t have any screenshots and there aren’t enough hours in the day to draw or write something for you even though each and every one of you completely deserve it.

I’ve been there, I’ve struggled. This year has hit us all hard, and we’ve all dealt with our challenges. I’ve been struggling through a sudden loss in November that really knocked me off my feet after everything else that has gone wrong this year. I’m slowly getting back up now, but you guys need to know that is was the people on here that gave me a lifeline when I needed it most, and you didn’t even have to try.

And for the people out there still struggling, believe me when I say it won’t last forever. I can’t promise 2021 will be magically perfect, but we’re slowly but surely getting there. It might take while, but things will get easier. And if you ever want to talk, I’m only a message away. One of my favourite quotes has always been ‘things will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay it’s not the end.’ So keep going, you’ll make it to where you want to be!

Do you guys realise how amazing you all are? I was catching up on all of your posts the other day and suddenly realised I had this little smile on my face just from seeing all of your incredible drawings and stories and videos and photo edits and screenshots (there were so many and they are so good that the app crashed XD). And I have a hard time believing that I am the only one who realises that scrolling through those posts leaves you in a much better place than it did before. There is always something there to brighten your day.

It’s mindboggling to think that so many of you are at the opposite end of the country, in completely different continents, or even on the other side of the planet. But it makes absolutely no difference where we are in the world, because you all contribute so much to this community and give so much to people who need it.

I feel like for all of the hours of work and effort that you put into what you do whilst still managing to live real life, all the appreciation in the world wouldn’t be enough to express how fabulous you all are. So this is my attempt at stringing a few words together to make up for the fact that I can’t always do justice to the amazing things I’ve seen and the breath-taking people on this site. The imagination, kindness, and talent here is endless!

I know I’m not a big account, and I don’t know how many people will see this post. But I hope it gets a lot of reblogs, because every single member of this fandom should read it and realise how much you mean to me and all the others here.

I’m so grateful to have found you, and when I look back on 2020 I won’t remember it as the ‘Year the Pandemic Happened’, but as the ‘Year of the Thunderfam’.

So thank you Thunderfam, from the bottom of my heart, for being the highlight of my year and a ray of sunshine during some really tricky and horrible times. Here’s hoping 2021 will take us onwards and upwards!

 So many tags, and I know I don’t have everyone!  @psychoseal @seathesilverlinings @misssquidtracy @gentlebluelizard @dragonoffantasyandreality @olliepig @weirdburketeer @tsarisfanfiction @rachfielden-xo @angelofbenignmalevolence @lenna-z @gumnut-logic​ @gordonthegreatesttracy @drileyf @ak47stylegirl @thunderskybird @scarlett3drag0n @photowizard17 @weathergirl8 @inertplanetary @1bluesilvertracy @thunderbird-one-ai @soniabigcheese @neuroticphysiologist @singmetothesun @hironojp @louthestarspeaker @eirabach @mrseviltedi @i-am-chidorixblossom @the-lady-razorsharp @bonsaiiiiiii @fictivekaleidoscope @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @myladykayo @willow-salix @incorrect-thunderbirds-quotes @fearlesstracy @hedwigstalons @tinglingsquidsense @thunderbirds-are-fab @lenle-g @vegetacide @godsliltippy @misstb2 @gordoncoopertracy @sonatanotwo @flyboytracy @tag-rewatch 

[otheenglishsetters]

WIP (AKA, I never published my work on Tumblr before and I am TERRIFIED)

Hello! I finally gave in and splurged on a Xbox this year, which may have also coincided with my rising anxiety and boredom since I’ve decided to take a year off of college (my senior year to be exact). Luckily, my boyfriend and friends, knowing how I tend to throw myself into fictional worlds when I am stressed had recommended to me this sweet little game series. It was filled with space and wonder and characters so wonderful that they will make your heart hurt.

That, dear readers, was Mass Effect. 

I had already played a little of the first game of the original trilogy at the very beginning of 2020 at my boyfriend’s house, long before all of my post-college plans came crashing down (as did the world too!) 

So I finally invested my time (and money) into Mass Effect Andromeda in November of 2020. Let me tell you, after loosing control over everything else in my life [laying panicked in bed, constantly praying that the pandemic would not claim the life of my middle aged father after already losing my mother to lung cancer just two years prior], it was unbelievably refreshing to be able to have some resemblance of control in this fictional world (And yes, I realize that this is a video game and of course I have control). And the fact that what Bioware was doing was...pretty freaking great.

So, I apologize if this is coming off a pity-party, I promise, it isn’t supposed to be. It’s more like I had just finished my first playthrough of my first videogame ever and I am filled with feelings and emotions. I never post original content on Tumblr, and that’s mostly because I got scared off posting my work after receiving mean-spirited reviews when I posted my fanfiction on Fanfiction.com years and years ago (which is fair, because looking back my work wasn’t that great, but holy crap I was 14 guys!) I have not written creatively since my high school creative writing class in senior year, but this game and this winter, I thought I would try? And hopefully get to connect with other fans? Let me know what you guys think; I’m planning to add more chapters/content soon. Okay, I’ll quit rambling...

He notices that she tends to have a lazy eye. He’s not sure when exactly he notices this, but it’s becoming more and more apparent.

Which is not a problem, absolutely not. In fact, he thinks it’s adorable in a way, especially when she’s tucked into a pillow and loudly craving sushi. 

“I wondered if she was mocking me,” Keema notes one day. Out of all the Angara Reyes has had the pleasure to meet, she still seems one of the few who can truly read humans in a non-lateral sense. Her favorite so far was when she discovered the music genres of both EDM and metal in the same day, “it wasn’t until I was approving shipping orders from the docks the other day I realized why. The Pathfinder needs glasses.”

She also loses control of her lazy eye, it seems, mostly at night, usually by 2300 hours standard time. 

“I’ve been reading studies about team bonding.”

He hums as he rubs her back. Sara, despite commenting on the numerous things she’s done throughout her day, seems wired and intent on rambling. He’s okay with that. More than okay, it’s been years practically since either of them has had a free moment to even been able to just relax in bed and daydream. They probably both haven’t been able to enjoy this luxury since they were…teens? Finishing school and about to launch themselves into the military? For him, he figures it was before that, probably when he decided to work for that florist at 12. Sara gives bits and pieces of her life in the Milky Way but he thinks she was definitely a kid who tried to ‘help’ C-Sec with their cases, constantly looking for ways to help people in any way she can. He smiles. It’s probably a never-ending itch for her. 

And now? He’s just content that he convinced her to come down to Kadara to ‘inspect Ditaeon’, or whatever bullshit she told Tann. Luckily, it seems that life is, slower? No, that’s not it, people are more than excited to create themselves anew here. Stores and trading posts are popping up everywhere and another hospital has just been built in Prodromos. There’s practically a whole shopping district in Kadara now, with outdoor venues and a movie theater that plays cinema classics every night. It’s more like they both are finally properly settled into their positions, like when a CEO is situated in a new company. Sure, the CEO may face numerous problems at first, especially if it’s during a recession or the company is about to go bankrupt. The CEO may even have to intimidate secondary managers and fight to gain respect; however, once the dust settles, whilst there may be everyday problems, it’s nothing compared to what it used to be. Usually, these problems are solved by lunchtime, mid-morning if either of them are lucky.

In the old days, when she appeared to be this amped up, Reyes would subtly (or not so subtle, it depends on how you look at it), swoon her until they had sex. It probably didn’t feel that way at the time, but sometimes Reyes cringes when he thinks of how rushed their attempts at romance used to be. Back then, they didn’t know how long she would be in the area and they would race to make the most of the evening. Now he wonders how much he used to unconsciously push aside the thought that either one of them could be dead the next day. 

Errrr. Negative bedtime thoughts. Not good for sleepytime. 

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“Are you listening?”

“You were just telling me how you were reading various theses on social exchange theory but then you were already anxious about the thing that you have yet to tell me so you decided to read something familiar like one of the works by Dr. Brené Brown,” he pauses to give a quick glance at the data pad in his right hand. “Mi cielo, I have been informed to tell you that your contacts have been delivered as they were just sent in, along with the rest of the Tempest’s supplies, this morning.” 

He liked to think he was a good boyfriend.

“I hate when you do that.”

“What?” Listen? Dearest, it’s part of the job description as your lover. Speaking of, remind me to pick up toilet paper tomorrow.”

“No, multitask.”

He sighs and reaches up into the upper center of her back. Oof, she really is tense there. “You do it too.”

“Not at nighttime!” She scowls and rubs her eyebrow. “Ew, when did I become an old prune as soon as it gets dark?”

He starts tenderizing the hard muscle. Mentally, he makes a note to remind her later when she’s not grumpy to do her prescribed yoga. “We’re all getting older dear. I’m thirty-one and the other day I heard my knees crack.” 

She was silent. Any other fool would think that she was lost in thought while others would be jealous of the close bond she shares with her AI. Honestly, Reyes is just grateful she spends any of her time with him, let alone his bed. And if she occupies a part of it in a mental showdown with SAM, who is he to complain. 

“SAM thinks you should get an appointment. Even if Dr. Nakamoto is busy, there’s plenty of others who are just as qualified. Also, I think Peebee and Jaal are sleeping with each other.” 

  Both he and Sara know the in(s) and the outs of their jobs so well by now, that he can probably predict easily what his men will ask for even before the message is downloaded on his office’ terminal. However right now, as Reyes stops reading a report on corn being grown on Havarl that he already skimmed over this morning over his huevos rancheros, all he can think about before checking to see if he is correct is how her left non-dominant eye is floating far out to the side. 

Hmmm, who knew fraternization would be cutting into his beauty sleep? 

*************************************************

If you made it this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I apologize for any grammar mistakes. If you’re confused, this is set to take place three years after the Hyperion first makes contact with the Nexus in the Andromeda Galaxy. I was just so intrigued by the dialogue between Jaal and Peebee. And then, after the initial curiosity, I was about to forget about it when I came across some interesting dialogue while driving the Nomad...

Jaal: Vetra, I catch Peebee looking at me. Frequently.

Vetra: Peebee likes new shiny things. Uhh… and why not? You’re genuinely interesting.

#

Jaal: Vetra, remember when I told you that Peebee was looking at me? Frequently?

Vetra: Yeah? Is it getting annoying? Want me to say something?

Jaal: No, no, no. It’s… just that… lately, I find myself… looking back. 

Vetra: Huh.

**

So of course I had to dig into that! And what better way to do so than by using my new favorite ship: Reyes and Sara? (Domestic times!)

Anyways friends, hopefully my writing isn’t awful and you enjoyed yourselves. I may wake up in the morning and delete this. Who knows. 

Have a great day guys!

[eternalpassions]

Can I just vent a little? I was looking for some Kaname photos on Pinterest and the amount of shit Yume shippers get is truly surprising. On the photos that have comments you can bet you’ll find z*kis throwing shit to Yumes. Most of them are anime only but still have the “hE’S hEr BrOthEr!” argument, while the manga readers are neutral (with some exceptions). What really gets on my nerves is this particular picture of Kaname AND Yuki (no Z*ro, no Ai or Ren, just those two) and this person asked what the name of the series was and oh boy, several people SHAT on OP. Some assumed they liked the ship and attacked them for it, others argued that OP was sick for liking such a controversial show.

Damn, I thought the ship wars were over a while ago on Tumblr but they’re still going on other social media. I’m guessing since Netflix has the anime a lot of new fans are coming so the shitshow never ends. You can’t even have a decent conversation or debate with these mfs.

Hey,

Sure anon you can vent to me lol. Sometimes I still feel like venting when I see the stuff they used to say on tumblr and the stuff I used to see on other sites. I didn’t know that this shit was still going on tho lol

That’s why I don’t like that the show is on Netflix lol. People just watch and start hating without knowing all the facts. And these people forget it’s just a show. There’s people that enjoy Kaname/yume so what? We don’t owe any explanations to people on the internet

People are just really salty.. It’s these people that are the reason I hate zero tbh. These mf’s will never stop being salty and hateful tbh. It’s best to just stick to sites that’s don’t hate in order to have a healthier fandom experience. Speaking from experience, this is the best thing to do

And let’s hope one day Netflix removes the series lol. I remember they said they were going to years ago but they never did lol

Thanks

[umbry-fic]

Ai Kotoba

Summary: On the lead-up to Valentine's Day, Lloyd hunts for the perfect gift with the help of his friends.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel, Genis Sage, Presea Combatir, Zelos Wilder, Regal Bryant Relationships: Everyone & Lloyd, Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 9716 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 14/02/2021

Notes: A fic written for Valentine's Day that features rare pairs, headcanons and an aromantic Presea.

There's a section in this inspired by @darkhymns-fic's sixth entry of Into the Morning Light, which you can read here.

This fic has been altered to work on Tumblr, so if you'd like to read it in its original form, please read it on AO3!

♡♡♡

3 weeks to Valentine’s Day

“Hey, Bud!”

“Yes, Zelos?” Lloyd replied, glancing around furtively and on high alert for the flutter of skirts or the click of heels against the cobblestone path. He and Zelos were currently in what used to be the slums of Meltokio, though they couldn't be called that anymore in their current state. The living conditions had improved immensely since the end of their journey four years ago, but there were still visible changes from just one year ago when he and Colette had a brief stopover.

Even while dealing with other outstanding issues and the urgent need to cooperate with Sylvarant, Zelos had still taken Colette's suggestion to heart. Zelos had worked tirelessly with the Tethe'allan monarchy - both with the unification of the world and to improve equality, starting in his hometown of Meltokio. Zelos had worked himself to the bone, and the effect was palpable and honestly impressive. The settlements which had once been nothing more than sheets of wood or plastic cobbled together were now humble houses that could serve their role perfectly.

Lloyd was proud of his friend’s work, of course. And he would be happy to look at what Zelos had accomplished! But he would rather not be walking around Meltokio with the Tethe'allan Chosen. There was a high chance they would be mobbed by a crowd of noblewomen, and while Zelos loved the attention, Lloyd hated it. And once it happened, there would be almost no hope of escape.

It hadn’t happened yet, thankfully, probably due to their current location in the city. Despite the absence of visible grime, there was still an obvious tone of judgement in the voices of the higher-class when they talked about the other denizens of Meltokio. Some things couldn't change overnight.

Still, Lloyd would rather not risk getting trapped.

“How’re things going with the little angel?”

“Um, good?” Lloyd mumbled, avoiding Zelos’ gaze. He was never quite sure what to make of that question, even after the many times Zelos had asked it. Why was Zelos so eager to know, anyway?

“Good? That’s the same answer you gave last time! Don’t be so boring!”

“What answer am I supposed to give?” Lloyd protested, staring down at the cobblestones and dragging his shoes against them.

He and Colette had officially been in a relationship for the past two years, and yet nothing much had changed from the time they were friends. He had simply, as per normal, spent every day with Colette on their journey to collect the remaining Exspheres. It was quiet and peaceful, and that was enough for him. They were both happy, and that was all that mattered, surely.

Lloyd didn’t think any word could encompass his experience with Colette and the emotions every moment with her brought, so he had no idea how to answer Zelos.

“Don’t we have more important things to discuss? Like the Great Bridge?” Lloyd asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards the reason he and Colette were here in Tethe'alla in the first place. The Great Bridge was one of the largest monuments in Tethe'alla powered by Exspheres, which meant it used an abhorrently large number of them. That was a giant collection of souls that Lloyd hoped to free from the eternal purgatory they were entrapped in.

But to do that required extensive collaboration with the Tethe'allan monarchy, which was where Zelos came in.

“Bud, I told you that I’m handling it! Just trust me, alright?” Zelos replied, waving away Lloyd’s concerns with a flippant wave of his arm. Lloyd sighed. He wasn’t going to be getting much done today, was he? Zelos was far more interested in grilling him about his love life than doing anything productive.

Lloyd didn't mind too much, since he couldn't detect any ill intent in Zelos's voice. Not that Lloyd believed Zelos would be purposely mean-spirited.

Eyes alight with a mischievous shine, Zelos grinned, clapping Lloyd on the back and causing him to stumble forward, catching himself with his hands on his knees. “At least tell me you have something planned for Valentine’s Day! It’s coming up in less than a month!”

Lloyd straightened, mind turning over the unfamiliar words that he'd never heard before. Then again, Tethe'alla had a lot of weird traditions that he couldn't even begin to understand.

What did Valentine's Day celebrate?

“Bud? Why aren't you moving?" Zelos asked, coming to a stop and turning to face Lloyd, right hand placed on his waist.

"What does Valentine's Day celebrate?" Lloyd asked guilelessly, unaware that he had just plunged Zelos into a pit of disbelief.

"Wait - you don't know what Valentine's Day is? How could I have forgotten to tell you?"

Zelos grabbed Lloyd by the shoulders, fingers gripping tightly like the fate of the world depended on him understanding what Valentine's Day was. Zelos' blue eyes were wide as he shoved his face closer to Lloyd's, and Lloyd leaned back as much as he could without falling over, not liking how close the other was. Was Valentine's Day this important?

"It's the day that celebrates love and romance! The greatest holiday of all time, where couples give gifts to each other! Do you know how many gifts I get from women on Valentine’s Day alone? It’s heaven!”

Lloyd laughed nervously, pushing Zelos’ hands away and taking a step back. So Valentine’s was another opportunity to be fawned over by his Hunnies? Yeah, he could see why Zelos liked it so much. All Lloyd cared about right now, though, was getting Zelos off his case.

“What’s it got to do with me, though?”

“You have to do something for the little angel! That’s the only way to proclaim your love! You didn’t nail the dramatic confession, so you have to get this one right!”

Lloyd knew he hadn’t done an over-the-top confession. It had been a spur of the moment decision, in the least romantic location ever - an Exsphere mine near Asgard, abandoned from a previous period of Sylvarant’s prosperity.

“That should be the last one in here. Now they can all be at peace.” Colette placed the lone Exsphere in Lloyd’s palm with her usual gentle touch, a smile on her face.

The mine they were in had a lamp system that had once run on mana, but that store of mana had long since run dry. As a result, it was pitch black inside, and the two of them had resorted to the gentle light their wings emanated to illuminate the path ahead.

Under the soft, commingled purple light, the planes of Colette’s face were highlighted and her small, happy smile seemed incredibly bright, almost like it could light up the darkness all on its own. All Lloyd could do was stare at the breathtaking angel in front of him, marvelling at all the love and care she carried in her heart, enough to surround the whole world. How lucky he was to be able to spend every day by her side.

“Colette, I - I love you.” The words that he had kept hidden in his heart for as long as he could remember tumbled out, just like that, as his hand curled over the Exsphere in his palm, feeling the rough edges of it through his gloves.

Her gaze had snapped to his, holding disbelief, and in the seconds before her response, his heart had beat so fast that the blood rushing past his ears drowned out all other sounds. Did she not feel the same? Maybe... maybe she only cared for him as a friend.

Even if that were the case, he would be happy to stay with her for the rest of eternity as nothing more than a friend. Simply enjoying her companionship was enough.

But Colette took his free hand, intertwining her fingers securely with his like she would never let go.

She nodded, that smile growing ever more radiant. “I love you too. I always have.”

It had been simple, and at that moment everything had felt right. It was like the final missing puzzle piece had finally been put into place: admitting what had gone unrecognised for years.

But now, Lloyd couldn’t help but second-guess himself. Zelos had told him that his confession was pitiful and that he really should have planned better to go all-out.

“A candle-lit dinner would have been amazing! A mine is the most boring location ever. Horrible lighting, stale air - what a buzz-kill!” That had been Zelos' exact words, which had certainly taken all the wind out of Lloyd’s sails.

He and Colette hadn’t purposefully gone on many dates since then. It had just been them together, facing one day at a time. Some were quiet and peaceful, others filled with excitement. And Lloyd was perfectly fine letting nature take its course, content with the way things were.

But he couldn’t help but question. Maybe that wasn’t what Colette wanted. Maybe he was going about this wrong. Maybe he should be offering to bring her out on dates, attempting to shower her in gifts - what the ideal boyfriend would be like, according to Zelos. Maybe she wasn’t asking him for anything because she was afraid to, and was just hiding behind a content face.

“ - to bud? BUD!”

Lloyd snapped back to attention to find Zelos’s hand being waved in his face. Right, he was still with Zelos in the middle of Meltokio.

And Lloyd made his decision then and there. He would use the time before Valentine’s Day to find the perfect gift for the person he loved. Something amazing to fit the incredible person that Colette was. Something that could adequately express the way he felt around her.

“Sorry, Zelos. I was just thinking… So, what do people usually give on Valentine's day?” They resumed their walk, with Lloyd determined to get some information out of Zelos.

“So you are thinking about it! Good,” Zelos replied, steepling his fingers together with a devilish grin on his face. “People often give chocolates. Just thinking about all the young girls who are going to give me boxes of handmade chocolates is making me salivate already… It’s the beauty of young love!”

“Right,” Lloyd muttered, knowing that he’d lost Zelos.

“So handmade chocolates…” He could see how the time and effort took to hand-make them could make them a good gift. But how did one go about making chocolates? He’d have to do some research.

“Now that I think about it, maybe you shouldn’t hand make chocolates?” Zelos was the one to come to a stop this time, frowning. “Just - just stick to the store sold ones. Those are perfectly fine.”

“But there’s nothing special about those, are they?” If store sold chocolates were the go-to gift, didn't that make them the “boring” that Zelos always warned him to steer clear of? What was the point, then?

And Lloyd could cook just fine! He was the proud maker of the Dwarven Stew recipe, after all! How hard could it be?

“Just - just trust me on this, alright?” Zelos hurriedly said, shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

"No! I'm not giving her chocolates unless I make them himself!” Lloyd declared, walking ahead and already contemplating the intricacies of chocolate making. He’d do it. Just watch him!

♥♥♥

Zelos sighed, having been left in the dust. He hoped he’d managed to steer Lloyd in the right direction.

Valentine’s Day was a day for celebrating love and romance? What a farce. He did receive countless gifts from his hunnies on Valentine’s Day as they proclaimed their “undying love” for him. He hadn’t been lying about that to Lloyd.

But it was all fake, part of the delicate efforts to maintain a facade that Zelos hated with his entire being. Those shallow gifts were nothing more than a representation of Tetheallan high society’s lust for power, meant to keep people in his good faith by showing their supposed adoration - another part of the leash that Meltokio tied around his neck to keep him in place.

Valentine’s only strengthened the knowledge that he was utterly alone. No one had given a gift to him out of genuine love - not since the time Seles had made him a bracelet out of multi-coloured strings, a long time ago. The strings had frayed and the colours had long since faded, but Zelos still cherished that gift and kept it safe.

The many gifts he had received since then were nothing more than a bitter reminder of the role he was locked into. They meant nothing to him. For so long, there had never been anyone who saw him for who he was, and those who did, he had pushed away.

But he couldn’t tell Lloyd all that. Lloyd and Colette deserved to have Valentine’s be a happy affair, untainted by Zelos' misgivings. Their relationship was pure and beautiful, so starkly different from the dance of deception that passed for love in Meltokio. It was something he ached to experience himself, for who hadn't heard of the fairytale version of love and longed for it? But surely, that was impossible, was what he believed for the longest time.

Maybe now he could try to find his happy ending. Zelos had attempted to apologise to Sheena the entire month after his false betrayal at the Tower of Salvation, to explain all the emotions that had run through his head - despair and hope battling with each other for dominance, and how hope had eventually broken through in small glimmers to influence his final decision. But Sheena had avoided him expertly, escaping conversations or using someone else as a shield.

The wound that he had savagely slashed over her heart was too fresh for Sheena to accept his apology, Zelos supposed. And so life had gone on, with the two of them rarely seeing each other. They met only when Sheena had to visit Meltokio for diplomatic reasons, and things were still unbearably tense and awkward. Zelos hated it and he longed to return to the days when they could at least act civil with each other.

It had been four years. Maybe it was time to try again, to make the amends that he desperately needed to.

I wonder if Sheena would accept a card for this Valentine’s… And I owe her an apology. Too many.

Zelos smiled, shaking his head as he ran to catch up to Lloyd. He had faith that Lloyd would find the perfect gift for their little angel. And he had plans to make.

Hopefully, Lloyd came to his senses soon and realised that hand-making chocolates were not the best idea.

For Martel’s sake, he’d found a shoe in Lloyd’s Dwarven Stew once.

♡♡♡

2 weeks to Valentine’s Day

“Checkmate. That’s my fifth victory today,” Genis crowed, triumphantly knocking Lloyd’s King to the floor before placing his King in its place. Lloyd, resting his elbow on the wooden table, leaned down to pick up the white piece that had rolled slightly across the dirt, placing it back safely on the table.

“Do you need to be so violent?” Lloyd grumbled, beginning to arrange the pieces back to their starting positions.

When he and Genis had first started playing chess, they had both agreed that the loser would reset the board to its neutral position. Lloyd had done this so many times that the pieces' positions were burned into his brain. Genis hadn't done it once.

The other condition was that the loser had to treat the victor to a meal.

...maybe that deal hadn’t been quite fair. Lloyd’s wallet was beginning to feel the brunt of his losses.

“One day, a piece is going to roll off the side of Exire.”

“We’re nowhere near the edge, Lloyd. That’s not going to be an issue,” Genis replied with an amused smile. “At least you know the rules of chess now. Wanna play another round before Colette gets back?" Genis asked, picking his Queen off the board and rolling it between his fingers.

"No, I'm good. I have something I wanted to ask you."

"It's about Colette, right?" Genis grinned at the expression of shock on Lloyd's face, having predicted his line of questioning perfectly. "You have that look on your face. So, what is it? Trouble in paradise?"

"Nothing like that. Have you heard of Valentine's Day?" Lloyd started the conversation with that extremely safe question, preferring to hide the increasing depths of panic he had felt over the passing week. Besides, if he hadn't heard of it, maybe Genis hadn't either!

"That silly little Tethe'allan holiday? Yeah, I've heard of it." Despite the flat tone Genis tried to go for, he wasn't able to hide the tiny blush that was appearing on his cheeks. That had always been what gave him away, even when his affections had been directed towards Presea.

"Seles told me about it," Genis mumbled.

Ah. So that was it. They were both in the same boat, then.

"So, what are you planning to get her?" Lloyd asked, really hoping he didn't come across as too desperate.

Unfortunately, he had to drop the chocolate idea. There just weren't many opportunities to practice discreetly when most of his time was spent alone with Colette. Sneaking away or giving excuses just left a sour taste in his mouth. It felt too much like betraying her trust when she’d already been lied to for so much of her life.

That left only the dead of night to practice. However, none of the final products looked remotely like the delicately handcrafted chocolates that sat in Meltokian storefronts. Sometimes, there were even noxious fumes. Things were starting to look too much like when Professor Raine experimented, and that was never a good thing. Lloyd had no choice but to admit defeat.

It hadn't been practical, to begin with - he had zero experience with making chocolates. Surely that was the only reason he wasn't succeeding! Chocolates just weren't his thing.

But that brought him straight back to square one. Since Lloyd was here with Genis today, he might as well pick his genius friend's brain.

"I'm not getting anyone anything!" Genis snapped defensively, the blush on his cheeks only intensifying until it was a rosy red. "Flowers. I'm going - I'VE HEARD THAT FLOWERS ARE POPULAR!" Genis ended his answer with a yell, defiantly slamming his hands on the table and glaring at Lloyd, daring him to say something.

Lloyd decided, tactfully, not to point out the little slip-up Genis had made.

But flowers…? He and Colette had quite the history with flowers.

How many flower crowns had he made her when they were but children? He had learned how to weave the stems together securely to ensure the crown maintained its shape for days while ensuring the delicate little things weren’t crushed. He had learned which flowers lasted the longest and complemented each other and Colette’s golden hair the best. Under the setting sun, with flowers stretching out all around her, she had resembled a dainty forest queen.

Colette, in response to the little gifts he gave her, always responded with a radiant smile that made each day better. Lloyd had gladly made her more, content to see Colette's smiling face.

But it had all been a facade, hadn’t it? He had done it all, thinking that they were both having fun and that everything was right in the world. But to Colette, it had been so much more - the little rays of sunshine that broke through a sky constantly smothered with dark clouds that she had clung to for hope.

And Colette never asked for more. She was content with the little moments of happiness she could get, and never tried to change her fate or confide in anyone else.

It felt wrong, somehow, to give Colette something he associated with innocent days - when really, she had always been hiding her despair behind a brave face. He had never bothered to push beyond the mask to see the fear she buried and the tears she held back, not until it was almost too late.

Even now, he had the sense that Colette was still holding herself back. She had never asked for anything in their time together, and knowing her, she wouldn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day. Sometimes, it felt like she had to get someone's permission, someone's affirmation, to be allowed to be happy.

Lloyd had thought, once upon a time, that everything would be fixed once he saved the world. He had thought that was enough for Colette to be free. But those were the fantasies of a naive child, who had seen the world in black and white and thought every problem had an easy solution.

It had been heartbreaking to admit that the world wasn't like that. It comprised of every shade of grey. There were some things that could just never be fixed. The claws of fear had dug themselves so deeply into Colette's heart that to this very day, their mark still lingered. And it would always be present.

What could he really do, then...?

“LLOYD! EARTH TO LLOYD!” Genis’ loud yell brought Lloyd back to reality. Genis was staring at him in clear concern. “You’re serious about this, aren't you? You shouldn’t be thinking this deeply over anything.”

“Oi!” Lloyd scowled at that little jab from Genis, secretly glad for the return to normalcy.

“Let’s talk about something else. How… How’s your Mother?” Lloyd asked, looking down at the table. He hesitated to even ask that question. It had been four years, but Lloyd knew better than anyone how raw these wounds would always remain.

That’s just the way it was with family. The people meant to protect you were also the ones who left behind the deepest scars, because they held your heart and had the capacity shatter it - sometimes carelessly, sometimes cruelly.

But Lloyd had come here to catch up with Genis. And the only thing he could do in this situation was to provide support. Genis wouldn’t want to beat around the bush.

“Better. Some days, Mother can even recognise Sis. She… still hasn’t recognised me.” Lloyd could understand Genis’ wavering smile. Knowing that your family was still alive but forever out of reach - maybe that was worse than knowing they were dead.

“I’m sure the day will come,” Lloyd reassured him. “After all, the three of you… have all of eternity.”

A 1000 years, to Lloyd, seemed like an impossibly long time. And elves lived even longer, didn’t they? Surely Virginia would be able to recover in that time with the assistance of her family’s love and the power of medicine. He had hope that Genis and Raine would get the happy ending they deserved. They’d gone through so much and still came out the other side with their heads held high, and still desired to forge a safe place for other half-elves to live.

“Yeah. I… I want her blessing when I - if I get married,” Genis corrected, resting his chin on his hand and staring off into the distance. “It would just feel right.”

Lloyd’s hand wandered to the golden locket hung around his throat, the final gift from his birth father before he had left for Dherris-Kharlan. Getting your parent’s blessing… that was the conventional thing to do, wasn’t it? Lloyd couldn’t help but feel envious that his best friend could at least dream of that - something that’s now forever out of his reach.

“I’m sure Kratos already knew, Lloyd.”

“What…?”

“And he wouldn’t have left if he didn’t think you were in good hands,” Genis continued. “I’m sure he approved, so you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“But how would he have known?” Lloyd asked, confused. He hadn't said anything...

“You two were so obvious. You were dating Colette before you started officially dating her! Really, how dense could you two be?” Genis teased, grinning.

“Hey!” Lloyd cried, standing up in indignation. He wasn’t going to take that insult to his intelligence sitting down.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Dirk���s already planned your wedding!” Genis yelled before taking off as Lloyd chased after him, determined to catch the little brat.

“Do remember to invite all of us, Lloyd! I’m sure we would all like to give our blessings!” Genis called over his shoulder, picking up speed.

“Come back here!” Lloyd cried, no heat behind his statement at all. He was unable to keep a smile from growing on his face from the reminder Genis’ words had given him.

Family was more than just the people who had brought you into this world. They were those who had been there when it mattered, who Lloyd cared for and trusted. Lloyd already had Dirk, and his family had only grown.

And Lloyd loved them all, just as much as he loved his birth parents.

♥♥♥

“Gotcha.” Lloyd grinned, latching onto Genis’ arm. “No more running away now!”

“Damn it,” Genis cursed, letting Lloyd pull them both onto the grass. They were both far too old to be acting so childish, but Genis had gotten caught. So he would make the concession, just this once. Only because he had lost.

“Honestly, though, don’t worry too much about what to give Colette,” Genis said, sitting up. “You’ll come across the perfect idea naturally. You know her best, so you’ll figure it out. I believe in you.”

Genis had grown up watching his two friends fall in love with each other - watching the two of them instantly brighten when the other turned up, watching the two of them seeking out each other’s hands at every given opportunity, and watching how the two of them found comfort in each other.

They’d been in love for so long without realising it, which was honestly frustrating to watch. Genis had breathed a giant sigh of relief when Lloyd had told him they were finally together. They could finally find happiness together.

He could also openly make fun of them acting like a couple, which was a plus.

Colette and Lloyd’s love for each other, for the most part, wasn’t intense, like a giant bonfire that threw sparks everywhere. Instead, it was a simmering fire - gentle, steady and always present. It cast light over everyone else and let everyone around it feel its warmth. It was comforting to watch.

Genis hoped he could experience the same someday. It had stung when Presea had kindly but firmly ended their relationship, explaining that she didn’t feel the same. She had told him that it wasn't anything he had done - it just hadn't worked out. Still, Genis couldn't help but think it had been something he'd done. He had pored over every moment spent with Presea, trying to identify his mistake. Maybe it was because he hadn't spent enough time with her, having to split it between his studies at Palmacosta Academy and dates with Presea. Maybe he hadn't put in enough effort, or maybe he hadn't catered to her interests, or maybe, maybe, maybe. The list of errors he had potentially made went on forever. For a short time, he’d been crushed and thought he would never have his opportunity at romance.

Looking back only two years later, Genis had to admit that he’d been spectacularly stupid. Love wasn’t perfect - it was messy and complicated and honestly scary, and there was no need to focus on it too much now. He had a long life ahead of him with which to experience it - to have his heart broken countless times, but also to learn what it meant to love with all of one’s heart.

“Thanks, Genis.” Lloyd replied, sitting up as well. Some of the tension in Lloyd’s voice had left. Lloyd had been distracted throughout the entirety of their game of chess and had played even worse than usual, making Genis' victory feel rather hollow. Hopefully, he'd helped Lloyd feel better... It didn't feel right to see his first and closest friend so down, especially since he was worrying over a non-issue. Nothing could shatter the love between his two friends. Surely.

Maybe now they could play another match on more equal footing?

Nah, Lloyd was terrible at chess. How he’d managed to get Lloyd to agree to play in the first place was a mystery. But it was fun to watch Lloyd’s downright pathetic plays when he got cornered.

Not to mention the free food!

“What do we have here?”

Genis froze, his blood running cold at the familiar voice of his sister.

Gulping, Genis turned to find Raine standing nearby with her hands placed on her waist, surveying the chaos she had chanced upon. Chess pieces were scattered across the grass and the board itself had somehow been flung more than a metre from the table in the midst of Lloyd's frantic chase. Colette stood next to Raine, smiling nervously at the catastrophe which she had just orchestrated, clutching her sketchbook close to her chest.

“Aren’t you two a little too old for such childish behaviour?” Raine berated. “This is embarrassing!”

“We’ll clean it up! Promise!” Lloyd hurriedly said, scrambling to his feet.

“Won’t you go a little easy on them?” Colette pleaded, bending down to begin picking up the lone chess pieces. “I’m sure they didn’t mean to make such a mess.”

“Too late,” Raine growled, cracking her knuckles and approaching them threateningly. “Get ready for your punishment.”

He and Lloyd were dead. They were going to be buried right here, having been murdered by his sister.

This was all Lloyd’s fault.

♡♡♡

1 Week to Valentine’s Day

“Presea!” Colette squealed, quickly closing the short distance between her and the pink-haired girl standing in the entrance to Ozette. She threw her arms around Presea, squeezing tightly.

“Hello, Colette. You seem excited,” Presea replied, gingerly disentangling herself from Colette’s embrace and picking up the axe she had dropped.

“I haven’t seen you in so long! Of course, I’ll be excited!”

“Hello, Lloyd.” Presea directed her attention towards him, standing a distance away enjoying the fresh air of Ozette. “Would you like a hug too?”

“I’m good!” Lloyd waved away Presea’s open arms. Given that she was still grasping an axe in her hand, Presea looked like she was brandishing it straight at him. It was a sight that could strike fear into the heart of anyone, but was tempered by the small smile on her face.

Presea had put on quite a lot of height in the time that he hadn't seen her. She had gone through a growth spurt and shot upwards, and now the top of her head nearly reached his shoulders. Presea was taller than Genis now, which was hilarious.

“It’s good to be back in Ozette.” Ozette had, impressively, been rebuilt within the first few months of its razing - the wooden houses Lloyd could see from the entrace were the perfect image of the past. Some of it was due to the support Regal had provided by using the funds of the Lezerano Company, but most of it had been due to the town’s villagers working harmoniously together.

Presea had been in the middle of it all, eager to rebuild the home that must have held her precious childhood memories, that of the family she had lost. And through her efforts, she had managed to show the villagers that she wasn’t the monster they thought she was. The villagers had finally managed to put aside their fear of Presea in honour of a common goal, and in the process had finally accepted her as a person.

Presea had refound her original family, but would always be welcome to seek their company.

“Shall we go?” Presea hefted the axe over her shoulder easily like it was nothing more than a feather, a feat that still amazed Lloyd every time he witnessed it.

“Let’s!” Colette agreed, nodding her head enthusiastically and grabbing Lloyd's hand to tug him along, a bright smile on her face as well.

Lloyd smiled and let himself relax, ready to enjoy the day with one of his friends. The reassurances from Genis had calmed a substantial amount of the panic that had initially swelled after Zelos had informed him of Valentine's. Honestly, he’d been so preoccupied with what to get Colette that he’d been forgoing time with those precious to him.

All he wanted was to get Colette something she would love. Once he'd calmed down and gotten to thinking about what Colette actually liked, an idea had come to him fairly quickly. He could even make her gift by hand like he initially wanted to with the chocolate idea...

Hopefully he would be able to approach Presea for pointers tonight. She was the best source of advice available for what he was trying to do, and he didn't want to miss the only opportunity he had before Valentine's. He and Colette weren't staying in Ozette for long, and he wanted the craftsmanship of his gift to be as excellent as possible.

But he wouldn't bother thinking about it now! Lloyd stuffed the little block of wood further into one of his pockets. Out of sight, out of mind.

Time to enjoy a day of fun!

♥♥♥

Presea walked up to the figure hunched over the table, whose hands were a blur of motion, manipulating tools to shape a block of wood. The moon, visible through the window, hung high in the sky, washing the room in ethereal silver light.

Whatever Lloyd was working on had to be important if he was staying up this late. Curiously, she peeked over his shoulder to get a better view.

“What are you carving, Lloyd?”

“Ah, Presea!” Lloyd whipped his head around, dropping the carving tools on the table with a prominent thunk that hopefully didn't disrupt Colette's rest. It was a testament to how concentrated Lloyd was that a battle-tuned warrior such as him didn’t take notice of her footfalls.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

"It's OK! Here, let me show you." Lloyd turned the half-carved wood towards her, letting her see the fine details that had begun to take shape. She could recognise a snout, ears and the beginning of paws.

“It’s a gift for Colette." It had to be, given the creature Lloyd was carving. It hadn’t yet been refined, but she could tell, even from the rough shape, how lovingly it was made. And Lloyd would spare no expense for Colette.

“Yeah. For Valentine’s.”

Presea ran her fingers over the grooves, letting the wood speak to her. "Valentine's..."

The holiday to celebrate love and romance...

Presea had once fantasised about her own happy ending - her knight in shining armour riding up on a white horse, straight out of one of the fairytales father had loved to tell her and Alicia. Those fantasies had been buried when father had fallen sick. She'd been so busy trying to keep her family together that she'd forgotten to think about romance. And then Rodyle had happened, pushing those thoughts even further down.

Presea had been completely blindsided by Genis' confession, but had agreed to try out... something. What were real relationships even like? What was love like? Having awakened from her Exsphere-induced slumber, she wanted to know. She wanted to experience it, that magical feeling of knowing you belonged with someone else. She liked Genis well enough, so maybe it would work out. Maybe she could learn to love him.

She'd ended it out of guilt. She was happy enough spending time with Genis, but even after spending months together, there was no sudden spark in her heart. She loved him as a friend but nothing more, and it felt wrong to continue when she had no hope of reciprocating.

Presea had spent the months after questioning herself. How was it that there was a void in her heart where her capacity to love should be? How was it that no matter how hard she tried, she could never be like everyone else? Was this just another thing that her Exsphere had taken from her?

Was she simply doomed to be an unfeeling monster, frozen in time?

It had taken time to accept herself. Accept that she loved just as fiercely as anyone else, just in a different way. Family and friends were the most important people to her, and there was nothing wrong with that.

Maybe one day she would experience romance, but it wasn't now, and it didn't matter. There were so many other beautiful things in life to experience.

But still, being confronted with all the happy couples on Valentine's Day was a little draining. Even watching Lloyd and Colette could make her feel a little hollow, sometimes. But that didn't detract from her desire for them to be happy together. There was no value in putting herself down because of other's happiness. Why not celebrate it?

There were so many other forms of love that filled every corner of this world. Why limit herself to only celebrating romance on Valentine's?

“It’s beautiful. I’m sure Colette will love it,” Presea said, setting the little figurine back on the table.

“Thanks,” Lloyd replied. “But I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Of course.”

Presea took a seat at the table, ready to hear her friend out.

She would help, in whatever way she could.

♡♡♡

4 Days to Valentine’s Day

“Still awake, Lloyd?”

“Regal? Shouldn't I be asking you the same question?” Lloyd asked, turning to face the older man. Regal was holding two flutes of champagne, one of which he offered to Lloyd.

“Late nights are pretty common for me, Lloyd. Having to manage a large company is busy work.”

“Right.” Lloyd accepted the champagne, taking a small sip and letting its rich taste flood his mouth, hoping it could clear his tired mind just a little. It was a miracle that he hadn't injured himself with how dark it was and how incredibly exhausted he was. Pulling multiple late-nighters in a row had not been the best of ideas, but he didn't have any other ideas on how to finish his gift in time.

“Is that your Valentine’s Gift?” Regal reached out to pick up the little figurine sitting on the table, which Lloyd had just completed the refining touches to.

“Yeah. I’ll clean up the wood shavings later! So sorry about, well, this...” Lloyd replied, staring guiltily at the mess he'd left on the table. Which, now that he looked closely at it, seemed quite expensive...

“Don't worry about the table, Lloyd. Besides, your gift… it’s beautiful.”

“You too? It’s nothing great,” Lloyd dismissed. He'd gotten the same compliment from Presea. “It’s nothing compared to Presea’s.”

Presea’s figurines preserved the most intricate details and textures he had ever seen, somehow able to showcase expressions and emotions. They were incredible. He could never measure up to them.

“I just hope the message gets across," Lloyd muttered, lifting the figurine into the air to inspect it for any mistakes. He had expended many nights on this gift, hoping to make it perfect.

There was still some instinctual nervousness that came with the gift-giving territory that Lloyd couldn't get rid of... Logically, he knew it was a good gift. It was both practical and cute. He'd put his all into this gift, much like the birthday necklace that came to serve as Colette's Key Crest, which he'd made without a worry in the world. Things had been so much simpler back then.

But Lloyd would never return to that past, for it meant not seeing the real Colette: all the uncertainty and doubt she carried upon that fragile back.

"Why not write a note, then?" Regal suggested. "If a material gift isn't enough to get your feelings across, why don't you write them down? It gives you the time to organise your thoughts, and there's no shame in it."

A note...? Lloyd lowered his head, thinking over the idea. He wasn't great with words, but at least he could plan what he wanted to write. It wasn't a bad idea...

"That's a great idea. Thanks!" Lloyd broke out into a grin, grateful for the inspiration.

"Always glad to help, Lloyd. But don't worry too much about it," Regal said, patting Lloyd lightly on the back.

"Genis said the same thing. He said I didn't need to worry too much about it, because I would find the perfect gift."

"I'm certain that's true as well, but that's not what I meant. I understand wanting to give a gift for special occasions, but it isn't the be-all-end-all in a relationship. You know, what Alicia enjoyed the most wasn’t expensive gifts.”

Lloyd raised his head, listening raptly to Regal’s voice and the nostalgia it held. Regal never recounted his time with Alicia - the pain must still be fresh, even so many years later. For Regal to be talking about it now...

“Of course they made her happy. But what we both appreciated the most was the time we spent together and all the little things we did for each other. It didn’t need to be perfect, because no one was perfect.”

Regal rested his hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, a reassuring smile on his face. “You have a whole lifetime ahead of you, so don’t worry too much about a single gift. Love her and be there for her, and she will surely feel it.”

Just love her...? Lloyd doesn't remember the exact moment he fell in love with Colette, but he remembers with crystal clarity the second he recognised that love, standing in the Tower of Salvation. Being unable to reach Colette no matter how desperately he tried, and realising he's about to lose her, possibly forever. That feeling, like his heart was being ripped apart at the seams, was something he would never forget.

Was it enough, though? All he could do was stay by Colette's side, no matter how prevalent the dark clouds were, whether they be just a single pinprick or covering the whole sky. He would always be willing to steady her hand as she reached for the happiness she willingly deserved. Colette was so incredibly strong. She just needed to discover that strength.

He wanted her to know...

“Thanks,” Lloyd replied, taking another sip of champagne. He would have to think over this more...

"Anytime, Lloyd."

♥♥♥

Regal smiled fondly as he gently draped a blanket over Lloyd, who had fallen asleep slumped over onto the table. Lloyd's half-drank flute of champagne still stood, bubbles lazily rising through the liquid.

Watching Lloyd and Colette… it was difficult to describe. It was like a vision of what he and Alicia used to be, and what they could have been were it not for Rodyle’s nefarious meddling. It stung sometimes - a reminder of all that he had lost by his own hands. The guilt of having Alicia’s blood on his hands and the horror he had felt as the life left his beloved's eyes would never leave him, even if he had accepted it wasn't his fault.

But before the painful memories, there had been happy moments, times that should have been looked back on with a fond smile but which had been tainted with his guilt.

Regal had finally been able to reclaim those memories after gaining Presea’s tentative forgiveness, seeing them for what they should always have been - a reminder of the amazing person Alicia had been and all the moments they had shared. Alicia placing a glass containing a single flower on his desk every morning, him wishing her a good morning every day without fail... The memories of the little actions they did for each other, sometimes without noticing, could always bring a smile to his face.

Sometimes, Regal would see Lloyd and Colette hesitate around each other, both held back by complex emotions that Regal couldn’t say he fully understood. But no one knew better than him the regret of letting guilt worm its way into one’s heart. Regal had been unable to see past his own, so willing to give up his life to atone for his sins that he’d been chained in place.

He knew now that throwing away his life would have meant disrespecting Alicia’s hopes for him, her desire for him to live on and experience the joys of life in her place. The best way to honour Alicia’s memory, then, was to push on. To live his life to the fullest, and protect Presea, the other person Alicia had loved and would have wanted to be happy.

There were some things that people could never forgive themselves for, that they felt they could never do enough to make up for. But to wallow in guilt meant wasting the precious time one had. He didn’t want Lloyd and Colette to make the same mistake he did. He wanted them to live their lives to the fullest and enjoy life with each other - to experience the happy ending that had been snatched away from him and Alicia.

Regal downed the remaining champagne, thinking about his schedule for the next few days. He would have to tell George to schedule a visit to Ozette to pick up Presea and a few Ozette Wildflowers.

They were Alicia’s favourite flowers, and a perfect gift for Valentine’s.

♡♡♡

Valentine’s Day

“Lloyd! Over here!”

Colette waved enthusiastically, signalling for Lloyd to join her on the neatly folded picnic blanket she was currently sitting on. The blanket was placed on a grassy outlook overlooking the plains near Asgard - it afforded a stunning view of both the plains and the night sky, and the blanket was comfy as well.

It was the perfect spot for a spontaneous midnight date, lit by the twinkling stars overnight, and Colette was glad that she had managed to convince Lloyd to stop here for the night.

Lloyd had seemed rather distracted the whole day, drifting off into his thoughts and being generally unresponsive until she got his attention again. He kept putting his hand into his pocket like he was checking for something, but what exactly she didn’t know.

He’d been like this for the past three weeks, but it had only gotten worse today. Unusual behaviour for Lloyd to say the least, but Colette wouldn’t dig.

She trusted him. He would tell her when he was ready, and not a second before. After all, he held far more courage than her cowardly self.

“You’ve been practising again, huh?” Lloyd asked, pointing to the sketchbook sitting in her lap that was currently filled to the brim of messy drawings of the night sky.

“Oh! Well, it’s still nothing good…” Colette hugged the sketchbook to her chest, hiding the rather embarrassing drawings on the current page. She had loved drawing as a child - Grandmother had shown her all the unintelligible scribbles of fruit and flowers that had become keepsakes. They were nothing amazing, but she had happy memories of showing them to her Father and Grandmother.

Colette had stopped fairly quickly once she was introduced to her duty as Chosen by the Church. After all, the priests had explicitly told her that hobbies were a waste of time and a disrespect to the Goddess. She, as the Chosen, was to devote her time solely to her efforts to become the perfect vessel for Martel. Distractions would not be forgiven.

Her family hadn't said a word when she'd packed up all her colour pencils into a box and stuffed them into a corner of her room, to gather dust and be forgotten. It seemed like they wanted to, but they had simply turned away, unwilling to stomach the sight before them of a child forced to give up her childhood.

Grandmother had put her foot down on Colette attending the Iselian schoolhouse, a decision that Colette was now eternally grateful for. If it wasn't for that, she would have never met Lloyd and Genis, and she wouldn't have had such a happy time. Colette had thought, at the time, that it was enough. Surely she had experienced enough, of happiness and friendship, to leave this world without regrets.

Her heart, that had screamed in pain, and her hope of experiencing so much more, of the world, of life, had told her otherwise.

Colette had wanted to try her hand at drawing again after returning from the Journey of Regeneration. Surely now she could do it, free from the restrictions of the role of Chosen. She could pick up a pencil, free of any guilt, and simply draw what she visualised. So, upon returning to Iselia, she had opened up that long untouched box, covered with dust, and looked down upon the assortment of colour pencils, an unknown emotion brewing in her stomach.

Was it happiness? Hope?

...trepidation?

Colette had pushed it out of her mind, eager to pick up a single pencil and just get started. It should be simple, right? She had done it so many times as a small child.

It had been so much harder than she had initially thought. Faced with a blank sheet of paper, she was able to do nothing but stare blankly, a pencil held in a trembling hand. Her mind kept cycling through the same memories - the words the priests had cruelly carved into her soul countless times and the sleepless nights tormented by guilt and her looming fate.

If you’re not performing your duty, then you’re useless. There’s no other purpose to your life.

It had taken some time to reclaim the activity she had once loved from the insidious trap of her memories, and it had taken the joint efforts of Lloyd and all the people she had come to know as family. Everyone had chipped in, equal parts complimenting her and giving her points for improvement. Each instance had warmed her heart and further cemented the love she felt for all of them.

And Lloyd, being the one who was always by her side, had been the one to steady her hand and offer her endless encouragement. The one who had been the biggest distraction in her life had also become the greatest pillar of light she had.

She was glad to be alive, even if it was just to spend one more second by the side of those she loved.

“Hey, I didn’t get good at crafting things in a single day,” Lloyd replied. “It required hours of practice - and a lot of Dad yelling at me. You’re putting in the hard work, so you’ll get there one day. I believe in you.”

Colette blushed, ducking her head and avoiding his warm gaze. Even now, Lloyd still stalwartly believed in her. Even if it was something as trivial as a hobby, it still made all the difference to her. He had always believed in her. That she wasn't just the Chosen, but a person deserving of her dreams and desires.

That things had come to this point was a miracle. She had loved Lloyd for a long time, but she had only realised after experiencing the pain of leaving him for the first time - essentially the act of ripping out her own heart.

She loved him, but she hadn't dared to tell him. She was more than content to remain his friend forever, to bury her feelings in a locked chest that would never be unearthed.

But even then, she had ended up here, leaning against Lloyd and listening to him point out the stars. She was happier than she’d ever been.

Colette’s eyes widened as a sudden streak of light cut through the sky, fast as a bullet, before disappearing from her sight. And then another, and another, and another - until the night sky was filled with stars with a trail of light behind them, almost as if they were falling from the sky in fiery glory.

“Lloyd! It’s a shooting star! Make a wish!”

Colette grabbed his hand, hoping that whatever he wished for would come true.

As for herself? She didn’t need to wish for anything. Having Lloyd at her side was enough - sometimes, she even felt like it was more than she deserved. Sometimes, unease filled her as the voices of the past echoed in her mind, telling her that a sinful Chosen such as herself should have nothing. Sometimes, she was afraid - afraid that all of it would be taken away as it had once been meant to. Afraid that maybe, someday, Lloyd would come to the conclusion that she was worthless after all. That she didn't deserve any of this.

Maybe that fear and the little voice inside her head would never truly disappear, no matter what Colette believed and the evidence laid before her very eyes. But that was alright. With Lloyd by her side, she would take each day as it came. And she would cherish the time she had with him, no matter how long it would be.

♥♥♥

Colette was smiling, staring up at the night sky that had just cleared of shooting stars. With her golden hair illuminated by the fiery trails of the shooting stars and her blue eyes shining under the starlight, she had looked almost ethereal, like an angel that had descended straight from the heavens.

What had she wished for? Knowing Colette and her selflessness, she would wish for other's happiness before her own. It was just like her.

As for himself... He hoped that she could find the courage to live the life she wanted.

“Here.” Swallowing down the remnants of his nervousness and with shaking hands, Lloyd pressed his gift into Colette’s palm, revealing what he’d spent so long working on - a little dog figurine with a hollowed-out base. It was her favourite animal, and perfect for slotting on any pencil she chose to use. “Happy Valentine’s.”

Lloyd watched anxiously as Colette turned over the wooden figure with wide eyes, awaiting her reaction. She didn't yet know of the final surprise, hidden away within the base of the figurine.

Colette looked back up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s beautiful. But Lloyd, you didn’t have to get me anything. Really.”

“Look inside,” Lloyd said, directing her attention towards the little rolled-up piece of paper stuffed into the hollowed-out base. Colette's reaction was exactly what he had expected. But hopefully, the note would convey exactly how he felt.

Colette unravelled the tiny sheet of paper, lowering her head to read through the note he had penned. He had spent the past four nights staying up and letting his deepest feelings flow out into words on a paper.

Lloyd hadn't told Colette that he loved her nearly enough. Honestly, no amount of words or gifts would ever fully express how he felt about her. But everyone deserved to know that they were loved, no matter what.

“Lloyd…” Colette raised her head, hand covering her mouth as tears started to spill over from those wide blue eyes. “I… This…”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Lloyd whispered, pulling her into his embrace and letting her cry silently into his chest. “Just know that everything I wrote was true.” He gently ran his hands through her golden hair as she cried, still clutching the gift he had given her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Colette pulled back, smiling through the tears. “I would love to stay with you forevermore. One day at a time... That’s enough for me.”

Lloyd pressed his forehead to hers, heart so full of joy that he thought it would burst.

It was alright that their relationship wasn’t the “perfect standard” that others fantasised about. Lloyd didn’t want that anyway. The love he experienced and the peaceful time he spent with her was more than enough.

Watching the sunset, making snow angels, having a picnic in the forest - he hoped to make so many more memories with her, one day at a time. They would take the messy steps of life together, no matter how many it took, until they learned to be free of all the burdens that weighed on them, free to take flight and do whatever their hearts desired.

♡♡♡

Colette,

Happy Valentine's Day! I decided to write this down because I didn't know how to say it out loud, but it's important to me that you know.

I love your smile and the way it lights up your whole face and the entire room. I love how warm your hand feels when I take it, and how easily you offer it. I love the way you tap your pencil against your cheek when you think. I love the sound of your laugh, how clear and uplifting it is, and hope I can hear it more often.

I love how cheerful you always are, and the way you can make those around you happier while not even realising you're doing it. I love your kindness, and how you're willing to help others without a second thought. I love your selflessness and the way you always put others in front of yourself. I love how hopeful you are, and how much you believe in the good of others and how anyone can change if given the chance.

I want to spend even more years by your side. I want to see you smile more and laugh more. I want to be there when you're happy so we can share the joy.

But I also want to be there when you're sad. I want to be there when you're angry, when you're scared and when you're down. I want to be there when you need companionship. I want to be there, no matter how you're feeling at the moment. I want to know every side of you, and what makes you happy, sad and angry.

Ever since I came to know you, you've made every day better. I guess what I really want to say is... thank you so much for being in my life. It wouldn't be as magical without you in it, and I hope I can remain in yours for many, many more. I'll be with you until the moment you no longer want me by your side. But until then, I'll always be here for you to fall back on

I love you. So, so much.

Lloyd

[twokinkybeans]

Love Me ’Til My Life Is Done

Summary:  “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head.

“No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.”

-

In which it's the year 2052 and Peter and Tony deal with the new struggles of their age difference and Tony's deteriorating health.

Find it on AO3

Warnings: Old age, dementia, angst, hurt, feelings, medical conditions.

Author’s Note: This work is inspired by a mixture of things, such as my own job and this Tumblr post.  The fic is bittersweet, so please be prepared or leave if you'd rather not read that. I honestly don’t know why I wrote this as I gave myself all the feels too but, ah, here it is! - xx Kim

Peter smiles when he turns off the shower. He takes the large towel from the grab bar behind him and wraps it around Tony’s shoulders, gently rubbing the skin dry. Tony sighs and looks up at the other man, his troubled smile giving away exactly what he’s thinking about. Peter knows how much he hates this. Of course, the intimacy of the situation is nice. But that’s it, really. It’s bittersweet. “I wish you didn’t have to do this for me, Peter…” Tony mumbles staring at the floor. Droplets falling from his silver hair. The strands thin and frail, like the rest of his body. Peter shakes his head. “No no no, Tony, we’ve been over this. I love you. I chose to be with you and I knew what I got myself into. This-” Peter gestures at the both of them and continues drying off his body, “-is part of that choice. I’ve never regretted it, and I never will.” Peter understands where Tony’s coming from. It’s not easy. Nothing about the situation is. Last week, they celebrated Tony’s 82nd birthday. Eighty-two. Tony’s old. Peter isn’t. He’s not the youngest, obviously, but his own 50 years are not even close to catching up with his lover. “I know you and May have been secretly plotting your escape to - what do they call it nowadays - community living? I’m not letting some random strangers take care of either of you.” Peter’s done volunteer work in elderly care a few years prior to Tony’s deteriorating health, and they were so thoroughly understaffed that no one got the attention and care they needed. Peter will not do that to them unless absolutely necessary for whatever reason. “You’re not a nurse though, Peter.” “And you’re not my patient, Tony. You’re my fucking husband. You wish I was a nurse. I’d be the sexiest one you’ve ever seen.” Tony snorts at that and shakes his head. “You’ll never change.” “Nope, now come here,” Peter chuckles as he rips the small package and presses the fentanyl patch onto the man’s shoulder blade, “-look? All done, Sir. Now let me, ‘nurse Peter’, make you pancakes for breakfast.” “Oh, mh- That sounds lovely. Maybe I don’t want to move out after all.” “That’s what I thought.” Peter presses a soft kiss on the man’s cheek and ruffles Tony’s hair. Let’s get you dressed first.”

Ten minutes later, they find themselves in the kitchen. Tony walks over to the chair and grunts as he lowers himself onto it. Aunt May’s already there, reading a book. She puts it down and turns her wheelchair around, beckoning Peter to lean in for a kiss on her cheek. He smiles and does so, squeezing her shoulder as he stands back up.  “Morning, Pete, did he put up a fuss in the shower this morning, took you long enough.” “You know I like making it hard on him,” Tony jokes, making Peter chuckle. These two... May has lived with them for two years now. The woman, despite her age, still as bright and quirky as she’s always been. She’s never been able to regain the required strength needed to walk after the infection that came with her total hip replacement. She didn’t have the money to buy or rent a wheelchair accessible apartment, so Peter and Tony decided she could just come live with them. Not soon after, Tony had a series of transient ischemic attacks. Neither of those ever left too much damage, but it was clear that aside from the desensitization in his left arm, his brain had taken a hit due to the reoccurrence of the attacks too. A near eight months after his first TIA, the doctors diagnosed him with the first stage of vascular dementia. The last TIA occurred more than three months ago and he seemed stable now, but Peter knew it could change at any given moment and that scared him sometimes. It’s tough. The entire situation is. But at the same time, he feels so blessed that he had the time and means to help them. That he has people he cares for so deeply. Peter’s determined to make the most out of every single second they’ve got left.

“Peter, do you think we could eat pancakes for breakfast?” Peter’s heart clenches when the man speaks those words, but he musters a bright smile onto his face. He sees May glance between them, and he knows she knows this was yet another one of - as they’ve started to call it - Tony’s glitches. She keeps her mouth closed, for now, and Peter is glad. Tony is still very much in denial about his illness and talking about it didn’t make it any better so far.  “That’s a great idea, Tones! Let me see if we have the ingredients we need.” 

-

Another.

Tony had another TIA yesterday. Peter’s lips are quivering as he stares at his husband, the sleeping man so small and vulnerable in their double bed. He trails his fingers past the man’s upper arm and sighs, lowering his head. The doctor visited a few hours earlier, checking up on him. He’d sighed. “You know the drill, Mr. Parker. We have to be patient and see which functions come surging back. I’ve prescribed him the same meds as usual.”

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Peter hates to wait and see. He can’t stand not knowing how much of Tony he’s lost this time. Which memories have been wiped from the man’s existence. Would he still be able to walk? Write? Speak? He knew that TIA’s, as opposed to having an actual stroke, usually came with small losses. One could never be sure though. “Peter, can I come in?” Peter looks up to see Aunt May in the doorway and he nods slightly. The squeaking of her wheelchair familiar and grounding as she rolls towards him.  “I hate this,” Peter croaks and he can no longer keep the stinging in his eyes at bay. His vision becomes blurry when his tears flow freely. “I fucking hate this. I know, I know you’re both going to die one day. And- morbid as it sounds that’s okay. But I can’t lose him while he’s still here, May… I can’t… I can’t…”  “I know, Peter…” May rests a hand on his shoulder and leans in as far as possible. Peter does the same, hugging her carefully and sobs into her embrace. He can deal with Tony forgetting the day of the week. He can deal with Tony mixing up memories. He can deal with Tony wondering where exactly they are.

He’s not sure if he can deal with more losses. But he has to. He has to and he loves Tony. Even if Tony won’t be there, he’s going to love and cherish him. As promised all those years ago. As a good husband should. Because he doesn’t want to leave the man all by himself. He knows, knows that even if a day would come where Tony doesn’t remember his face, he can still provide him with warmth, a gentle touch. He will do exactly that for as long as it takes.

“He’s strong, Peter. We both know that. Don’t give up hope just yet.”

- 

“Jarvis?” Tony mumbles and he squints his eyes at the piece of paper in front of him. A gentle and somewhat familiar female voice answers him. “Yes, boss?”  “Where is Peter? Do you know?” Tony folds the paper carefully and looks for the envelope he fetched himself earlier. He sighs as he can’t find it on his desk and shakes his head. It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay. He knows his brain isn’t cooperating but getting angry won’t help him in this situation. He wants to get angry, he does, but he forces it down. There will be a time where he won’t be able to calm himself so he wants to do it now. As long as he’s still aware of his own actions. He stands up from the chair and walks over towards the large closet on the other side of the bedroom to get a new envelope. “In the living room, boss. Watching that old movie from 2019 that May loves so much.” Tony snorts and shakes his head. May sure loves old movies. “Frozen?” “Yes, the second one,” the AI says. Tony smiles, putting the note in the envelope and licking the sticky stripe to seal it. May watches that movie at least twice a year. Every single song, every bit of dialogue stuck in his head forever. No matter how forgetful he’ll get, those images will never escape his mind.

Tony takes a deep breath and carefully slips the envelope under Peter’s pillow to find later. He should go and join Peter and May for the movie. As much as he thinks it’s ridiculous, he’s grown to love it over the years. He readjusts the arm support strap around his wrist to keep it from cutting off his blood supply and stops in his tracks. Did he put the envelope under Peter’s pillow? He turns around and sighs in relief when he sees the edge off the paper sticking from underneath it. Good. He did what he had to do. He turns to the door again and sets off towards the living area.

-

Peter sighs as he crawls underneath the blankets. He helped Tony get to bed earlier, but then as he’d wanted to get in himself, May had called for him to help her go to the bathroom. He did, she was in bed again, and now he was too. Finally. He readjusts his pillow, shifting it closer towards the middle so he can spoon Tony when his hands brush past something. He frowns and reaches out for it. It’s an envelope. He turns it, but both sides are white and empty. “Open it,” Tony breathes quietly. Peter looks at him for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest.  “Is it from you?” “Yes.” Peter takes a deep breath at the answer and carefully tears the envelope open and pulls out the small note. His fingers are near shaking with anticipation when he unfolds it. It’s a handwritten note. Before he reads it, Tony speaks again. “I know it’s not easy, Peter. For either of us, but- I’m forever grateful that you chose to be my husband and…” Tony’s eyes fill with tears. “I want us to enjoy what we have while we still can. I- I found this poem online and I know it isn’t fully accurate yet, but- Dammit. I love you, Peter. I love you, and you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.” “Tony, I-” “Read it first, please. Just read it.”

“Do not ask me to remember” by Owen Darnell Do not ask me to remember, Don’t try to make me understand, Let me rest and know you’re with me, Kiss my cheek and hold my hand.

I’m confused beyond your concept, I am sad and sick and lost. All I know is that I need you To be with me at all cost.

Do not lose your patience with me, Do not scold or curse or cry. I can’t help the way I’m acting, Can’t be different though I try.

Just remember that I need you, That the best of me is gone, Please don’t fail to stand beside me, Love me ’til my life is done.

Peter’s sobbing before he even finishes reading it and once he reaches the end, he rolls over to bury his face against Tony’s chest.  “I will. I will, Tony. I’ll love you ‘til the end and beyond.” “I don’t want to not remember you, Peter. I know my brain is derailing and I sure fucking hope that day never comes. But even then- knowing that you will love me, it’s... It’s more than I could ask for and all I know I need.” “Always. Tones. Always.”

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.6

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: i’ve had mixed feelings about the tumblr fic community as of late :/ but heres something to read🥺

-

Holding the boy’s pinky in your own, you stare once more at his drawing of you with your guitar and flower crown—a superhero to those whom you shared your music with.

No. Your music hasn’t saved anyone. You’ve never been a hero to anyone. If anything, you’re the one who needs to be saved. You’d always thought you could grow strong enough to save yourself if you just closed yourself off from the world and did everything on your own. But in the end, that only seemed to hurt you more.

You should’ve known. It’s okay to ask for help, to reach out, to let him in.

“A few years ago, I had a thought. It wasn’t a very smart thought, but I decided I wanted to share part of myself with the world. I thought about the different ways I could go about that, but the way that made the most sense for me was music,” you say, finally letting go of Jungkook’s pinky and making yourself awfully comfortable on a bed that doesn’t belong to you. “So I auditioned for Polar Entertainment. Not to be an idol, but to be a songwriter.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, but he nods as if it’s not a shock to him, as if he saw it as “a Y/N thing to do.” At the same time, his gentle eyes wait for you to continue, curious to know what’ll happen next.

“Do you remember the song you heard me singing the other day in the music room?”

Jungkook cracks a smirk and starts singing your song word for word in a surprisingly in-tune whisper. Oh, he remembers it alright, and he’ll apparently never let you live it down. He doesn’t stop until you throw one of the balled-up blankets at his face.

“That was the first time I picked up my guitar and sang that song since being rejected at the audition.”

“I can imagine how scarring that would be. Rejection,” he shudders at the word, though you’re sure he knows little about the feeling with art skills as professional as his. “They really didn’t like you though?”

“They liked certain parts of me.” Your vocals, your beauty, your body. “But not the ones that mattered.” Your music, your creativity, your personality. You.

“That’s their loss,” Jungkook says in the midst of a yawn, practically inaudible. But you heard him.

“Maybe they had a point,” you say, looking up at the ceiling. “Because when I look back to that time, it was quite foolish of me to believe my music would reach anyone when it came from a place of desperation, not my heart. The song was a plea for help, not one that would save others.”

“What made you suddenly sing it again after all this time?”

You grab hold of the boy’s hand and form yet another pinky promise. “Promise you won’t laugh at me for my reason.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he says with the straightest face. He’s ready to burst out laughing again and you know it.

“Then I won’t tell you.” With a hmph, you bury yourself under the fluffiest blanket. You wonder how he would’ve reacted if you told him it was that dang jk.seagull and his fanfic that gave you the courage to sing again, to go back to your roots, to follow your love of creating music. It’d obviously sound ridiculous to admit it out loud, but the joy you feel from reading Witch Hazel is what reminds you of the very thing you want to provide others with—happiness.

And that’s perhaps all the encouragement you needed to start sharing your music again.

“I won’t tell you what it was exactly that made me do it, but I’ll tell you why,” you peek your head back out of the blankets to see the boy still waiting patiently for an answer. “I wanted to move on… from the failure I faced that day. That way, I can finally become that superhero you speak of.”

You place the drawing of your superhero self onto the nightstand so that it doesn’t get crinkled up on the bed. No, she’s not a superhero yet. But she will be someday.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“You better not tell anyone,” you remind him. “This isn’t something I share with other people. Ever.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he assures you, with not only his words but also his warmth.

“Good.” You smile whilst closing your eyes. You meant to tell him that he could confide in you too, but the warmth pulls you into a deep slumber before you could do so.

-

It’s been a minute since you’ve awoken in someone else’s bed, though this is the first time you aren’t all wrapped up in their embrace. Rather, half the boy’s body is hanging off the side of the bed for dear life while you’re right smack in the middle, all bundled up in one of the blankets.

If you wanted to, you could push him over the edge with the tiniest tap of your foot—that’s how close he is to falling. But as tempting as it would be to get even with the boy who teases you to no end, you opt to quietly check your phone without disturbing him.

To your surprise, you have two new notifications: a text from Seokjin earlier this morning and a late-night update from jk.seagull posted sometime after you had passed out. You’ve always been the type to take care of work obligations before indulging in guilty pleasures, so you open Seokjin’s text first.

6:04AM jinnie “so jimin’s manager reached out to me”

6:05AM jinnie “and you want to collab with jimin?”

7:12AM Y/N “oh yeah i asked him to have his manager contact you”

7:13AM Y/N “but i guess i forgot to tell you LOL”

It’s not that you forgot. You were just hesitant to tell your manager about it yourself. Because if possible, you’d like to minimize your own company’s involvement in this top-secret scheme of yours.

7:15AM jinnie “are you up to something?”

7:15AM Y/N “mayhaps”

7:16AM Y/N “but dont tell boss lady pls”

7:17AM jinnie “shes going to find out one way or another”

7:19AM Y/N “thats true 🤔 ”

7:20AM Y/N “well tbh knowing her, she’d probably approve of the collab anyway since it should clear up those dating rumors while (hopefully) appealing to jimin’s fanbase”

7:21AM Y/N “just dont tell her the logistics of the collab”

7:21AM jinnie “what are you scheming lmao”

7:22AM Y/N “youll see”

7:22AM jinnie “ 😒 dont get me or yourself in trouble Y/N”

7:23AM Y/N “i wont! i promise! 🥺 ”

7:24AM jinnie “okay fine”

7:25AM jinnie “ill arrange a meeting with jimin and his manager to discuss everything formally”

As you move on to the more exciting notification on your phone, you see that the sleeping Jungkook has slipped several inches closer to falling flat on his face. Maybe you’ll save him from his impending doom. Maybe you won’t. But that’ll have to wait until after you see what jk.seagull had to say on his blog.

“do you ever think back to that one time in math camp when a little girl screamed in your face that she hated math and wanted to become a musician instead? apparently she somehow confused ‘musician’ with ‘mathematician’ LMAO”

You aren’t sure what provoked the silly seagull guy to share such a random thought, but you do get a good laugh out of it. After all, you can totally relate as someone who went to math camp one summer despite knowing in your heart what you truly wanted to do-

Wait.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed, half-urgent tone, though calling his name wouldn’t be what actually wakes him from his slumber. “I think I know who the seagull guy is.”

Thud. You swear on your life you didn’t lay a finger on the boy when he fell, despite all the devilish thoughts you had about it earlier. He fell on his own. You’re innocent. Therefore, you have a right to laugh.

“Are you okay?” you snicker, peering down from the bed at the dazed boy. He might have been the biggest klutz for rolling off the bed and stumbling around to find his glasses, but holy shit. His wild bedhead and scattered blankets across the floor make it seem as though the two of you had a lot more than just an innocent heart-to-heart in his bed last night.

“I’m fine,” he stretches his arms and combs the bedhead out. Yes, he is fine. “But, uhh, what’s this about that seagull guy?”

“I think I know him.” You expect Jungkook to be as excited as you are, but he just seems kind of puzzled—perhaps from his lack of sleep.

“…and how did you come to that conclusion…?” he asks. Or maybe he doesn’t believe you.

“You didn’t see the post! Look at the post.” You join the boy down on the floor and make yourself at home there with your phone and some of the fallen blankets. He leans over your shoulder to read the infamous post you won’t shut up about.

“Math camp?” Jungkook continues to squint at the cryptic message before chuckling. “Also, did that girl seriously confuse musician with mathematician?”

“Stop laughing! That dumbass was me.” Now you wish you had kicked his ass off the bed.

He stops laughing, not because you told him to but because he’s mildly shook. “What?”

You take a deep breath in because you know you’re setting yourself up to be clowned for the rest of your fucking life. “When I was like ten, I told my parents that I wanted to be a mathematician, thinking that word meant musician. So they signed me up for camp that summer.”

“Did you ever stop to think that mathematician has the word math in it and not mu-”

You interrupt the boy’s unwelcomed commentary with an air-punch to his guts before continuing on as if nothing happened. “I was so excited until I got there. It was absolutely mortifying to learn that it was a math camp, not a music camp.”

“I like this story,” he nods with his arms guarding himself in anticipation of another air-jab as you square up.

“Still, I tried to make the best out of the situation since I was actually kind of good at math,” you say. “The camp director even told me I’d make a great math professor one day.”

“I can’t imagine you as a math professor.” He settles down with all the chuckling.

“I couldn’t either, so I ran off to an empty room where I thought I could escape without anyone finding me,” you soften your tone. “But somehow a crying, wandering boy found me.”

“Was it the seagull?”

“Maybe. All I remember was hearing music playing from somewhere outside. I sang along as a way to comfort and distract myself from the whole math situation, but it seemed to cheer up the boy as well.”

“Your voice does have that effect, you know.”

“He told me the same thing.” You can’t help but smile a little at the compliment. “But in that moment, it felt like my dream had a purpose beyond fueling my own desires. And I needed to share it with someone. Anyone.”

“So you shared it with the boy?”

You nod. “I told him my dream was to be a mathematician, but he knew what I meant.”

“Did he at least clown you first?”

“He did. He laughed right in my face, and at first I thought he was a jerk for making fun of my dream. But after he kindly taught me the difference between musician and mathematician, I announced my actual dream to him and him alone.”

“And how’d he respond?”

“He said it was cool beans.”

“He said cool beans?”

“Those were his exact words, yes.”

“And that was it?”

“That’s all I can remember.”

“So you don’t even remember his name or anything?”

“We never introduced ourselves,” you shake your head. “I don’t remember his face either because it was covered by a hood and long hair.”

“That’s too bad,” Jungkook sighs. “I bet it really was that seagull guy after all.”

“I have a feeling it was him, too.”

It would be nice and awfully romantic if you had somehow crossed paths long ago with the very seagull who continues to inspire your craft with his own. But even if that isn’t the case, you’re content with having that memory and entrusting it with another boy who has done nothing but lift you up.

You lean yourself gently against the Jungkook’s shoulder as you slip your phone back into your pocket, debating on your next course of action. The two of you should be getting ready for class, but that doesn’t sound very appealing. There are other things you’d much rather be doing, like maybe thanking the boy for lending his ear. But for some reason, it’s still difficult for you to say those two simple words of gratitude.

Perhaps it’s difficult because there’s a lot more you’d say than just “thanks man.”

“Can we just cut class and get coffee instead?” Yes, you’ll thank him for his service by treating him to coffee. Unless…? What if this is just your subtle way of asking the boy out on a date? What if he says no because you’ve already spent way too much time with him in the past 24 hours? What if he hates coffee? What if he-

“We should probably go to class to turn in our project, yeah?” Jungkook brings up a good point. But the thing is, you don’t really have your priorities straight at the moment and your mind has only two things consuming it: coffee and boy. “But we can get coffee after class.”

“Ooh, good, because there’s this one coffee shop I want you to try!” You chirp up despite your nonexistent dose of morning caffeine. “It’ll be my treat as thanks for… letting me hog your bed.”

“Oh right... that,” Jungkook hops to his feet and starts tidying up said bed. You help by picking up and folding all of the blankets. “I nearly froze and fell to my death because of that, you know.”

“I saw,” you bite your lip, trying to mask any naughty thoughts that come to mind. Because next time, if there is in fact a next time, you won’t let the boy freeze.

-

By the time art class ends, the weight of the dreaded group project has been lifted and your craving for coffee begins to settle in once more. And apparently, the hunger and excitement is radiating off you because someone has the audacity to make a comment about it.

“Why does your face look like that?” Taehyung teases, but you’re mildly offended.

“Because I’m getting coffee from my favorite café. That’s why,” you hiss but there’s still a hidden glow about you and your excitement. “Coffee is to me as girls are to you, Taehyung.”

“Ooh, speaking of girls, do any cute girls work there?” He strokes his wise man beard. “Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“I don’t fucking know.” And even if you did know, you wouldn’t say yes.

“How boring,” he yawns while nudging the boy next to him. “Hey Jungkook, wanna go on a double date with me? I met a pair of gamer girls, but I don’t know all the nerdy gaming stuff that you know. And think about it, this could be the first time you get laid since-”

“Actually, Jungkook’s getting coffee with me,” you interrupt. And if you had been brave enough to look up at the boy as you spoke, you would have seen the healthy pink radiance on his cheeks.

“Oh, so the two of you are dating all of a sudden?” Taehyung nods, as if he had hit the mark.

Neither you or Jungkook give an immediate answer, probably due to the unspoken yet very apparent shift in dynamics between the two of you as of late. Yes, you’ve developed certain feelings for the boy, but no, you aren’t technically “dating.” You just hope he’s on the same page as you.

“It’s just coffee,” you want to say, but it comes out of Jungkook’s mouth instead. And even though you would’ve said the same exact thing, it hits a little different hearing it from him.

At the same time, coffee is coffee and Jungkook is Jungkook. You need to remind yourself that your craving for coffee with the boy will be satisfied, regardless of whether it’s a date or not. After all, “dating” is not an option for an idol who should only be focusing on her music and fans.

“Which drink would you recommend?” Jungkook asks as you lead him in the direction of the café.

“If you like coffee, all of the drinks are good in my humble opinion,” you say, though you realize you should probably give the boy a few specific suggestions to make his decision a little easier. “You can get a standard mocha or latte if you want something simple. Or, their signature hazelnut coffee is really really good. Or if you want something iced, you should try the cold brew because it’s literally the most refreshing dose of caffeine ever. Oh! But if you’re into something more plant-based, I suggest the maple oat-”

“You’re not narrowing down my options if you recommend the entire menu, Y/N,” the boy chuckles at your coffee enthusiast behavior.

“Well, here’s my thought process: if we go at least once a week after class, you can eventually try every drink on the menu by the end of the school year. Not including all the different types of milk options though.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or terrified that you even bothered to do that calculation.” His eyes are bigger and brighter than the sun. “But that must mean you really like coffee then, huh?”

“Of course! Is that even a question?” The snobby coffee enthusiast jumped out real quick. But even beyond the coffee, you did the calculation to see how long your little coffee not-dates with the boy could last before you have to return to your idol obligations. “You like coffee too, right?”

“Not really,” he sighs. Your jaw drops. Who the does he think he is? “Are there any tea options? Or like a banana milk or something?”

“You can’t just walk into a coffee shop and not order coffee.” Is this guy for real? No, he’s just fucking with you. Probably. “I better start reevaluating who I hang out with,” you say with a sarcastic hmph.

“I’m kidding, kind of.” He doesn’t do a very good job of reassuring you of that. “I like… coffee.”

“That hesitant pause doesn’t sit well with me, Jeon.” You raise an eyebrow at the suspicious boy. It feels nice to tease him for once. “Why are you grabbing coffee with me if you don’t love it?”

“I just curious about this coffee place,” he nudges you, “since someone seems to really enjoy it.”

So it’s because of you…

“Good to know I’ve successfully peer pressured you into consuming caffeine,” you hum, playing it off as if his words weren’t absorbed right into your heart. It was never about coffee.

It’s about you and him.

The thought of that makes your heart scream a little, so you hide your flustered face behind your phone as the two of you approach the coffee shop. You have an unread text from your manager.

2:35PM jinnie “good news”

2:36PM jinnie “i set up a meeting with jimin and his manager in an hour”

You stop in your tracks. That’s not good news. Well actually, it is good for your top secret collab. But the timing of it all is anything but good.

“Are you searching up the menu online? Oh wait, you already have the entire menu memorized from A to Z.” He thinks he’s funny. Now is not the time, Jeon. His teasing smile doesn’t disappear until the distress is written all over your face.

How do you cancel a not-a-date date without a proper explanation? How can you do that to a boy who has only ever done you right? The thing is, you don’t have to hurt him.

You can cancel the meeting, you can bail out on the collab, you can disappear from the idol world altogether if you choose to do so. And if you didn’t want to go that far, you could instead tell the boy of your deepest and darkest secret, of your idol identity, and he would surely understand your reasons for having to leave so suddenly for work.

You could do any of those things, but you decide not to. You won’t allow yourself to make such a rash decision, even if it’s the right one. So you decide to keep the meeting, you decide to keep your idol self hidden in the shadows, and you decide to abandon the boy.

[peggysousfan]

Anomaly Misfire

This is the fic add on to the edit I had posted previously to do with Bellarke. The Anomaly sends Bellamy back in time to Earth after Primfaya, what will happen when he sees Clarke? This is based on a gif set I saw on Tumblr lol its amazing and looks so real, I wish it were.

"It's been 58 days. By now, Monty should have the algae farm producing." Clarke speaks through a makeshift radio while eating a few berries she found in the valley. Compared to algae, berries were better. "How bad does it suck? No offense Monty." She stops speaking but only hears static. She never gets a reply to her calls. "And I found berries, a whole field of them! They're not very sweet, but they're beautiful. I think that's what they used to make the paint for-"

As Clarke speaks through the radio and turns her head aside to look at the paint on a house, an illuminating green swirl appears seemingly out of no where. A small crackle of lights move through before the green mist vanished, leaving behind something- or rather someone. She stands up from her chair and cautiously steps closer to the man left behind by the mysterious green swirl.

"Clarke?" He whispers with his hands out stretched, unsure how to proceed. Her hair is longer than it was at Sanctum, and from the looks of his surroundings he's back at Shadow Valley.

"Be-Bellamy?!" Her voice cracks a bit as she looks around unsure if she's hallucinating from the radiation and dehydration. She did just discover the valley not too long ago after all.

"Wher-uh... I'm back on Earth? How..." He looks around and walks but before he's aware, a pair of arms wrap around his torso, blonde hair now fills under his chin. He chuckles and embraces her back, but what he doesn't expect is her to panic and start dragging him to the rover. "Clarke? What are you-"

"We have to get you to Becca's lab before the radiation sets in and kills you! Bellamy..." She turns around to face him, worry etched in her face. "It hasn't been five years. Its not safe for you to be here."

He chuckles lightly and halts to a stop, confusing Clarke. She pulls him more but he continues to laugh.

"Bellamy!?"

He takes her hand in his and walks back to the table where she was sitting before he had appeared. He then notices the radio and sighs. Madi was right, she did call to him while he was in space. At this thought he looks around.

"Where's Madi?" Now Clarke is even more confused.

"Who's Madi?"

"Your daughter..."

His words barely process through her mind as they stand near each other. But as Bellamy sees the perplexed expression over Clarke's face, he realizes they haven't met yet. That is, if he's thinking correctly about where and when he is in time.

"Bell I don't have a-" But before she can finish her sentence, she stops and looks to her left. A child stands from a distance and watched them. "Oh my God..."

The little girl runs off and before Bellamy knows it, Clarke runs after her. "Clarke!" But its no use, she can't hear him.

With a huffed breath he runs after her. He catches up to her within moments, trees and branches hanging in his face as he tries to smack them away. Its been a long time since he's been on earth, when things actually made since then. Clarke shouts in Trigedasleng to grab the girls attention, but she keeps going further into the woods. Bellamy stops running when he sees Clarke stop, she's looking at a child with crazed hair from afar. That has to be Madi. He thinks. But in the blink of an eye she runs off again. Clarke doesn't hesitate to run after her and so Bellamy follows them with a roll of his eyes. How can a small child run this fast? Clarke is still ahead of him but her voice echoes through the trees.

"Wait! Are you alone? Are there others?" She stops running to look at her surrounds and stops when she sees the little girl staring at her on the trail. Clarke speaks in trig once more.She says, "You're a nightblood, right?"

Clarke steps forward cautiously, trying to talk down to the girl, but she doesn't move. Instead Clarke does and eventually steps into a bear trap. She screams out in pain from the metal piercing the skin of her leg. Bellamy hears and runs faster. The little girl attacks Clarke in the mean time, attempting to stab her with a knife. She avoid most of the blows but her arm is cut, leaving black to trickle down her arm.

"Clarke!" The valley girl looks up at Bellamy and runs in the opposite direction, but seeing as Clarke is screeching in agony, his main focus on her. Bellamy bends down and helps her out of the bear trap, then carries her back to the village, but not without  fight. He sets her down after a while and she limps into one of the houses.

She grabs her bag on the way to sitting down on a table, ripping her pants leg as she does so. Bellamy tries to help but isn't sure what to do. "Its okay, Bellamy. I-I got it." Her words come out in a stutter as she hurriedly grabs a thread and needle.  At first she hesitates, but proceeds to stitch up the gashes on her leg. The only thing Bellamy can do is sit and listen to her agonizing sounds. After she's done, she passes out from the pain, but not before Bellamy rushes to her side and catches her head.

Clarke stays unconscious for several hours, so long he starts to worry about her. He periodically checks the wound and takes the liberty of cleaning it up as much, and as gently, as he can. But after several more minutes of waiting, and dozing off himself, Clarke wakes and startles at the pain in her leg.

"Hey hey hey! Easy... don't hurt yourself." Clarke jumps slightly before remembering Bellamy's presence. It takes a few moments before she realizes he isn't burning from radiation.

"You're... you're okay?" Her arm reaches out to him, inspecting the skin on his neck, hands, and face.

"Me? Of course I'm fine. You're the one that stepped into a bear trap."

Clarke thinks for a moment as the memories flood back into her mind, but right now the tap isn't her main concern. "No, that's not- Bellamy... how are you still alive? The radiation levels aren't safe. And how did you even get back?"

"Uhh... well I can answer one question." He shrugs and smiles, though she's still unhappy with his answer. The glare from her face tells him that very thought, though it is also contorted in pain. "Abby injected us with nightblood before returning to Sanctum." But as he says this his eyes widen and he flinches. "Sorry I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

"For what? And when did my mom make you a nightblood? You went off to space because the blood wasn't tested. I was the only one who took the syringe and injected myself." It was then he realized that Abby was still alive in the bunker. Clarke hadn't lost her yet. He feels like he should warn her, tell her whats coming, but then again who knows what will happen if he does. "And why are you looking at me like that? You still haven't answered my question of how you got here." Bellamy freezes and looks away from her.

"Look, Clarke, I don't know how I got here. One minute I'm in the Gabriel's tent holding Octavia after she's stabbed, then I'm taken by invisible people through the anomaly. I fought them off and I ended up falling and then landing here."

For several moments she sits quietly trying to process everything Bellamy has just said, and yet none of it makes sense to her. "What!?!? You were just in space with Monty, Raven, and the others. Octavia is still in the bunker and I have no idea who Gabriel is or what the 'Anomaly' is either. And what is Sanctum?"

"Uhh... shit."

"Bellamy?" She presses for more answers but he doesn't budge.

"It's complicated, okay?"

"Complicated." She echoes his words before trying to stand up. He asks what she's doing but shrugs it off. "You wouldn't understand. It's too complicated." She bites back, causing him to startle.

"Clarke come on. Its not easy to explain."

"Really? Then what is?" She turns to look at him over her shoulder and he freezes in place unsure what she means. Clarke scoffs at his confused look and sits facing him. "Bellamy we were born in space, sent to earth with no knowledge if it was inhabitable, then set up camp and fought a war with savages for land. Then Mount weather happened, I was on the run from literally very clan that existed only to be stuck in a worse situation fighting an AI and having to become a nightblood and fight off a whole city of innocent people. Then after almost dying I  find out the world was once again going to burn down into nothing, which left us having to choose and send hundreds of our own people to their deaths! Which left me one of the only people left on Earth above ground. But no, I wouldn't know complicated."

Bellamy inhales a deep breath and sighs, knowing everything she said is true. But what happens next is even worse than what they've faced before. Everything on earth were trial runs building up to Sanctum and the war raging on there.

"You really wanna know?" She gives him to look and he chuckles. Of course she wants to know. "Well, believe it or not I'm from the future."

"Future? Seriously?" He laughs at this and sits back in the chair he occupied before she woke up.

"Yeah. Seriously." Clarke looks at him through the moonlight and does realize he seems different, but she couldn't' think of how much time had changed since then. "Earth becomes uninhabitable within a matter of weeks after 6 years pass by. Once that happens we leave. Travel in our sleep to another planet where...things are the same as Earth. Trouble every where we go. We tried to be peaceful, civil even, but-" As Bellamy stops talking his voice cracks. The memory of figuring out Josephine taking over Clarke's body still haunts him.

"But what?" Her voice is soft and light, curious at why he stopped talking.

"They tried to kill you. I thought you were dead, Clarke." At this Clarke sits up straighter, trying to ignore searing pain in her lag as she does so. "To me and everyone else, you died and there was nothing we could do. There was nothing I could do! Peace was the goal and even though we tried to not.. to- dammit!"

"Bellamy..." She reaches out to him as he jumps from his chair and combs his hand through his hair. His mind fills back with the emotion, the dread, of thinking he had lost her forever.Clarke reaches out and touches his arm, grounding him back to reality.

"I tried, Clarke. I tried to keep the peace but... it didn't work out." he explains everything he could. From the mind drives, to nightblood and its connection, to Russel, Josephine, the Primes, and Sanctum. As well as the rebellion and the strange Anomaly that had taken Octavia back. Bellamy told her everything. As he does so, she sits back and groans from the pain. He reaches out to her but she says she's fine. "Clarke?"

"I-I don't know what to say to that, Bellamy. But now I understand why you apologized for mentioning my mom." He sighs and reaches out to her again, this time she accepts and holds his hand. "So all of this happens and what? We can't change anything can we?"

"I don't think we can."

Silence falls between them as the whirlwind of information is absorbed between them. For the rest of the night nothing else is said, they simply stay, hands together, and content on this moment.

For Clarke it has only been 58 days, but for Bellamy it has been over 70 years with a moment of content silence between them. A lingering, unsaid, feeling moving through the air. In his time living in space, Bellamy never thought he would end up with Echo, and yet he did. His mind says he cares for her, but his heart yearns for another, and still their relationship lingered on. But forces beyond his control tell him that its up to him to take fate in his own hands and be with the one he truly cared for-  the one he truly loved- and to do that was to atone for their past mistakes, if only to create a path for their future.

[hailing-stars]

I wrote this fic almost a year ago, one of my first irondad one-shots and my writing has improved so much lmao, but I didn’t have a tumblr back then, so I thought it was worth posting here. also May dates doc ock which happens in the comics but was still uncomfortable to write lol 

summary - something nefarious 

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

OR

Peter gets beat up by May's new boyfriend, because May's new boyfriend is Doc Ock and Peter is nosey.

Tony just wants to work on a car with his Spidey son and send him to college in one piece.

read on ao3 or after the undercut

Peter stared at the car parts scattered across the floor. He tried to remember enough to start assembling, or to at least make a little bit of progress before Mr. Stark looked away from whatever he was working on and saw no changes were made. It was useless. He couldn’t concentrate. Not on that. Not during that particular moment.

His thoughts belonged elsewhere, anywhere else, actually, but mostly not there. On the car. Completing the car meant completing a lie, or more importantly, led Peter closer to the moment he’d have to confess to Mr. Stark that he wouldn’t be attending MIT in the fall and therefore wouldn’t need this particular graduation present.

Peter had trouble deciding what would upset Mr. Stark more, his choice of school or that attending NYU rendered his gift useless.

“Every college man needs a car,” he had told him, then proceeded to try and rush off to get him a brand-new Audi. Peter’s lucky to have both May and Pepper. They were there to force him into a compromise

.May picked out some rundown car at a junk lot, and Mr. Stark would help him fix it up.

This compromise meant every Saturday that summer belonged to the workshop. He didn’t mind that part. Spending time with Mr. Stark was one of his favorite things to do. Especially there, in the workshop, where new Iron Man suits were born. If Peter were really going away to Massachusetts for school next fall, which he definitely wasn’t, he would miss him, almost as much as May.

The thought crossed his mind that he might end up missing Mr. Stark after all. Peter isn’t completely above pretending to be at MIT while he really hung around New York. It sounded a lot better and like a lot less drama than giving him the bad news.

“You were right,” said Mr. Stark. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stood over where Peter worked, or pretended to work, on the floor. “Clearly you don’t need my help.”

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

“Oh shit,” he said, and struggled to get to his feet. He sprinted to the other side of the workshop, grabbed his bookbag from the floor, then sprinted back to Mr. Stark. “I’m going to be late. I’m supposed to be meeting him tonight.”

He waited for the blow to come. A sarcastic comment. An ill-received joke. Peter prepared to defend himself for hating the man without ever meeting him, but the blow never came. This is something that, maybe, Mr. Stark understood, too. Peter didn’t need a reason to dislike any of May’s boyfriends, although he felt like he had plenty from overheard bits of conversations on the phone.

His name was reason enough. Doctor Otto.

Peter looked up once he adjusted the strap of his bookbag, and followed Mr. Stark’s gaze over to the car, if it could even be called a car at that point, sitting in the middle of the room.

“At this rate it’s never gonna be finished by fall.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “I’ll come back tomorrow?”

“Nope, tomorrow I’m spending the day with Pepper,” he said, then pointed at him. “Next Saturday I’m helping you, and cut it out with the Mr. Stark, alright? I told you. It’s Tony. You’re an adult now. Use your big boy words.”  

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was almost out the door when he heard Mr. Stark grumble, “Smartass.”

*

He was, as predicted, late for dinner. He opened the apartment door to one of the most traumatizing sights he’d ever seen in his eighteen years of life. May and Doctor Otto were standing uncomfortably close, but worse of all, they were breaking apart, as if they’d been closer, as if they’d been kissing.

His eyes settled over the man, but Peter’s feet stayed planted in the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Doctor Otto was tall, with dark hair and fit. His button up shirt stuck too close to his skin, but that wasn’t the most unsettling observation Peter made that night. It was the look in his eyes. Possibly, it was the same look Peter gave him as he sized him up, as the both of them were making up their minds about each other there in his aunt’s apartment.

The apartment they used to share with his uncle Ben.

“You must be Peter,” said Otto. He broke out of the kitchen and started across the apartment towards him.

“Obviously.”

Otto looked taken back for a half-second, then quickly recovered and pretended he hadn’t heard the tone. Behind him, May glared and mouthed at him to be nice.

“I’m Otto,” he said. His grip was loose and flimsy, like a fish out of water or a man who’s trying too hard to pretend to be unassuming. Peter knew better than to fall for that. “May told me so much about you.”

“Really?” said Peter. “I haven’t heard very much about you at all actually…”

“Peter,” said May, marching across the kitchen and joining them in the foyer. She stood by Otto, on his side, and hooked her arm through his. “He’s joking.” She looked at Peter. “You’re joking, but the joke’s over now.”

The couple walked back into the kitchen, arms still linked, and Peter swallowed misplaced stomach acid. His feet felt like dead weights as he followed them to the kitchen table. He didn’t know how he would make it through dinner without puking, but he should at least try it. He should at least try to be polite even if Otto made his skin crawl and his stomach turn, just so May wouldn’t kill him once he left. If he ever left.

He looked so comfortable on May’s side of the dinner table, where Ben used to sit, Peter wasn’t so sure they would ever get rid of him.

He stayed polite by keeping his responses as short as possible. He nodded when he could, he forced himself to smile, and occasionally, would make a noise that implied he was paying attention and actually, he was. Otto went on and on about his research with radioactive substances, maybe trying to impress him, but after spending so much time with Mr. Stark, it was hard to be impressed by someone so mediocre.

“I’ve heard you’re pretty into science yourself,” said Otto. There was a stray lasagna noodle hanging on his chin, and Peter had a hard time looking anywhere else. “I’ll have to get your opinion on my work sometime.”

“Oh,” said Peter. He looked down at his plate and pushed a few noodles around with his fork. “I doubt I would have the time for that. I intern for Mr. Stark, and he keeps me pretty busy.”

May narrowed her eyes at Peter, who stared right back. Otto was her boyfriend. It didn’t mean he was obligated to spend time with him.

“I’m sure he does,” said Otto, and Peter smiled for the first time since coming home, enjoying the bit of jealousy laced into his voice.

That night, Peter laid in bed and stared at his ceiling. The more his brain turned and turned and turned with all that talking about radioactive substances, about wanting to work with them, about AIs that would allow him to do it, the more it didn’t sound right. AIs were dangerous in the wrong hands. Peter didn’t think they should be trusted in the same hands that had trouble keeping food on his plate or in his mouth.

He didn’t sleep until he resolved to start an investigation, and to not give it up until he found something so incriminating May would break up with him.

Peter had a simple plan.

He set his alarm early, at least for an otherwise lazy Sunday morning, and stayed in his room. He pretended to be asleep until he heard the shower water running. He slipped out of bed and made his footsteps light as he crept into May’s bedroom. Her phone sat on the nightstand, and once in his hands, it was an easy hack. Something so simple and learned so easily by spending enough time around Mr. Stark, who was quick to teach Peter anything he wanted to know. He scrolled with his thumb until he found Otto’s contact information, grinning when he finally came across what he’d been looking for, an address.

He sent it to his phone, wiped the message history and returned it to its original position on the nightstand.

By the time May came out of the bathroom, Peter sat at the kitchen table, watching YouTube videos on his phone and eating a bowl of cereal. The empty box laid sideways on the table.

“Good morning, May,” he said, as she walked past him.

She headed to the coffee pot, or at least she had started in that direction. She backtracked several steps to stand in the kitchen entryway, observing him with her hands on her hips, until Peter was forced to acknowledge her.

“No.”

“No to what?”

“To whatever you’re up to,” she said. “I know that look, and I know what it means.”

“But I’m not even doing anything.”

“Does what you’re not doing have anything to do with Otto, by any chance?” she asked. Peter blinked at her, and she pulled on her we’re-about-to-have-a-serious-discussion face while she pulled out the chair next to him. “Did you know all those nights you spend going off, having your little Avengers missions, I sit here in this kitchen, by myself, worrying to death about you? Every single time. It never gets less scary, but it always ends the same way. Do you know how?”

“Umm…” said Peter. He had a feeling he knew, but he felt like answering would be walking into a trap.

“With you coming through that door complaining,” she said. “Mr. Stark is so over-protective. He’s paranoid! He won’t let me anything –“

“-My voice isn’t that high.”

“The point,” said May. “Is that you are doing the same thing, with me, now.”

Peter dropped his spoon, and looked at her, really looked at her. She made a good point. He hated that, because this situation was clearly different. Relationships were definitely more dangerous than his missions with the Avengers.

“I miss Ben too, but I have to start dating again sometime, you know?”

“I know,” said Peter. “Does it have to be this guy, though?”

May rolled her eyes, stood up and headed to her beloved coffee pot. “Give him a chance, Peter.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Peter would give him a chance, just as soon as he investigated and only if he couldn’t find anything on him. He hoped he would. His aunt deserved someone better than the idiot who talked only about himself all evening with a noodle hanging off his chin.

His investigation started later on that same day.

*

Peter sat cross-legged on the top of Otto’s apartment building while he ate his dinner, a slightly cold sandwich from Delmar’s. He picked it up on the way over, with the intention of being able to eat it when he got home, but this stake-out was taking longer than he expected. It only served to prove Peter’s suspicions. Otto was up to something nefarious. Obviously. There was no other reason for him to be away from his apartment all day long when he told May he was spending the day grocery shopping and doing laundry.

He waited hours on that rooftop, watching the city below him and listening to all its sounds, only to finally tire out and head back home empty handed. Without any evidence. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he expected to find there, anyway.

Peter crawled through his bedroom window, then heard it. He ditched his suit for regular clothes and discovered the reason Otto hadn’t returned home to his apartment. He was here. On the couch with May. Watching a movie with his arm around her.

“Oh hey, Peter,” said May. She paused the movie, and both pairs of eyes stared him down. “I didn’t know you were home. Do you want to watch this with us?”

“He probably doesn’t have the time,” said Otto. It was lighthearted, but it grated at Peter’s nerves.

He dismissed himself. Politely. He could foreign politeness just as well as Otto could pretend to be meek.

Peter paced in his room. Back and forth, back and forth, thinking fast and frantic. He stopped when his thoughts did, when his he lifted his head from staring at the floor and his eyes fell over to his desk drawer. A new idea, like a spark, sent him barreling to his knees in front of the drawer. He yanked it open and searched through it, pulling out papers and graded homework from years before as it did.

But it was useless. They were all gone. A tracker would have been perfect, would have done his job for him, but they weren’t anymore left. Not in his drawer, or in his suit.

There was one more option but asking Mr. Stark for more trackers invited his questions. He collapsed on his bed, realizing he didn’t have much of a choice, and put his scheme against Otto off until Saturday.

It rolled around fast, and Mr. Stark hadn’t been kidding when he told him he’d be helping him this time around. Within five minutes of his arrival at the workshop, the two of them were side-by-side, shoulders nearly touching, face-up underneath the frame of the car. He passed him tools, explained to him what did what, and what to screw and where. It was almost like having a dad again, and it pushed Otto and the tracker to the very back of his brain.

He just wanted to enjoy the moment.

But when there wasn’t May and her boyfriend to worry about, his mind reverted back to worrying over the moment he confessed to Mr. Stark MIT wasn’t happening.

Thinking about not going ached like regret. He wasn’t just disappointing Mr. Stark, but himself. As fall got closer and closer, he realized more and more MIT was the perfect place for him. He didn’t understand how Mr. Stark knew that long before Peter, but none of it mattered. It didn’t change anything. He still couldn’t go.

He already declined the offer, and there were two very good reasons that went into that decision. The first was Queens. His city still needed Spider-Man. The second was more important. He couldn’t leave May. Who else would investigate and stalk her boyfriends, or eat Thai food on the couch while watching trash reality TV?

A nudge on his shoulder broke him out of his thoughts.

“Let’s take a break,” said Mr. Stark. They both scooted out from under the car and sat up. Mr. Stark threw a rag at him. Peter used it immediately, wiping off the black smudges he felt on his cheeks, then his hands. “How’s the situation with May and the new boyfriend?”

“His name is Otto,” said Peter. “He’s a tool.”

“Otto, huh? No wonder why you don’t like him,” Mr. Stark stood and walked over to a stool where his phone sat, leaving Peter to sit on the floor, using his hands as props to support the rest of his body.

Peter stared at the back of Mr. Stark’s head while he strolled through his phone. He figured it was now or never. To ask about those trackers, not for the college confession. He still had a couple of weeks until he would need to disclose that information, and he planned to procrastinate as long as possible. He found his voice, though it wavered when his request was said out loud, causing Mr. Stark to turn around and look away from the phone in his hand.

“Why? What for?”

“To track… someone,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark tilted his head at him. Forget being trapped under buildings. He was eighteen years old and one look from him turned him back into a guilty first-grader. It ruled out the possible scheme of pretending to be in Massachusetts in the fall. He’d never be able to pull that off.

“I got that,” he said. “Who?”

“No one important.”

He made a face like he didn’t believe him but walked away and returned with a handful of the tiny trackers despite his unanswered questions. He passed them to Peter, who had to stand to collect them. He shoved them in the smallest pocket of his bookbag.

“So, what is it this time?” he asked. “Man who thinks he’s a bird? Another lizard guy?”

“Nothing that like.”

He made the same face. It was every bit pinched as it was disbelieving, as if there were questions beating down a wall in his mind. Old Mr. Stark didn’t have that wall. He wouldn’t sat him down and demanded to know exactly what the trackers were used for. New Mr. Stark, who was inspired either by Pepper or a therapist, maybe both, let it go. He asked questions. He pried, but he didn’t stop him from making his own mistakes.

Sometimes Peter missed the old version. He felt less guilty about lying to helicopter Mr. Stark.

“If you’re ever in over your head,” he said. He twirled a screw-driver in his hand. “I’m just a phone call away.”

Peter looked at him, really looked at him and saw the scruff, dirt and grime instead of the billionaire wearing a suit and sunglasses. It was the workshop effect. Everything became a little more real, a little more transparent under the grease and dust, and under the dim lighting, Mr. Stark was just someone who worried too much about the people he loved.

And also, someone who was getting better and better at heaping on the guilt without even trying to do it.

The golden opportunity to put a tracker on Otto presented itself later on that same evening. Him and May were close on the couch, in their usual positions, as Peter stomped through the living room, still covered in the grease and dust of the workshop and swallowing another bout of stomach acid. They didn’t notice him, so he didn’t even try to be discrete when he slipped a tracker inside the seams of Otto’s coat.

He shouldn’t have left it out in the open like that. Just hanging on a kitchen chair.

After that, all he needed to do was wait, and he didn’t even have to do that for very long.

Otto excused himself from their movie night unusually early. As soon as Peter heard the apartment door shut, he pulled his mask on and watched the blue dot which represented Otto move across the map. It didn’t go to the dodgy apartment building where he lived. It went to the labs where he worked. Awfully late to be going to work. Unless that was his angle. To access the lab when the rest of the employees weren’t around and couldn’t see what he was doing.

Only one way to find out.

He suited up and followed the beacon to the labs. He was done pretending to be polite, so slamming through one of the windows and shattering glass everywhere as he tumbled into the building didn’t seem like an imposition. No alarm sounded, either, which was an added bonus.

The last thing he needed was for him to be tipped off about Spider-Man’s arrival.

He followed faint noises to find Otto, and when he got to the room he was in, he crawled up the wall and stuck to the ceiling, watching upside down as Otto maneuvered around the lab, unaware of his presence. Nothing seemed special. Nothing seemed to catch Peter’s eyes, until Otto walked over to a place in the lab he wouldn’t have known to look if he hadn’t gone over there.

He strapped himself into a harness, and from that harness, gained four new arms. Mechanical ones, with claws at the ends of them, and they were snapping. It concerned Peter that all four of them were extending upward, in his direction, but in retrospect it probably should’ve concerned him a little bit more. It just took one sudden movement, one metal tentacle shooting up fast and abrupt inches from where Peter hung to send him somersaulting to the ground.

He stuck the landing with his shoulders stuck out for balance, and looked up, looked into the eyes of Otto Octavius and saw the same something nefarious he saw the first time he met him. Granted, it was hard to take seriously with four mechanical claws floating around and snapping at him.

“What are you supposed to be?” asked Peter. Maybe Mr. Stark wasn’t too far off with his guesses that had to do with animals. “An octopus?”

“Glad you could finally find the time to join me, Peter.”

“Wait, what –“

“You’re really not that great at keeping secrets,” said Otto. His eyes drifted off to the equipment to his left, then back to Peter. “So, I’m sure you’ll understand this isn’t personal. I just can’t have you running off and telling Iron Man about all this.”

It was over before it started. While Peter was busy looking at all the things Otto didn’t want to Mr. Stark to find out about. He didn’t know what they were, or what they did, or why it would mean trouble for him if Iron Man discovered it, but that didn’t stop him from attacking.

Fast and abrupt just like the first time. He managed to dodge the first, but the second caught him in his belly and swatted him against the wall. He crashed to the floor, awkward and ungraceful, and thanks to his upgraded hearing, could hear the bone in his leg snapping before he even felt it. But the pain did come and distracted him from the third metal arm that lifted him up and pinned him against the wall.

It was Otto’s real hands that punched him, hit him hard in the stomach, on the face, but all Peter felt was the pain in his leg. He kept his focus there when the punching stopped, when Otto’s hands came up around his neck and cut off his air supply.

He was about to get killed by a man who couldn’t eat without getting food on his face.

That’s when he heard it. The gloriously familiar sound Iron Man made when he hovered, followed by his voice.

“Get your grubby tentacles off my kid, kraken.”

Peter was dropped to the floor, on his pitifully broken leg, but he felt better than fine. For all the aches and pains, even the stabbing one in his leg, he knew this was a fight that wouldn’t last long, either. There was no stomach acid as he watched Otto attempt to smack Iron Man around with those ridiculous metal arms. Mr. Stark wasn’t distracted, was ready for it and simply blasted him away with his repulsor beam. He flew across the room, crashed into the wall the same way Peter had and thudded to the floor.

Mr. Stark wasn’t done, though, even if Otto was no longer in any condition to fight. He didn’t stop until every single one of the metal arms were disbanded, snapped in half or otherwise disposed, and it isn’t until Otto is knocked unconscious that Mr. Stark lands next to Peter.

“Mr. Ssstark –“ said Peter. “I - I didn’t call.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just lucky you weren’t the only one tracking someone tonight, kid,” he said. He kneeled down next to him. “What’s the damage?”

“Leg’s broken.”

He felt the pain then, all at once, as if saying it out loud made it present. He gasped, and Mr. Stark winced. He turned his head, leveled another glare at Otto, and for a second, Peter thought he might go back over there, kick him while he’s down and unconscious, but the moment passed. Mr. Stark wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder’s, and very carefully, put his other arm under his legs, eventually scooping him off the ground.

Any energy he usually would have spent protesting being carried is focused towards the pain radiating throughout his body. He shut his eyes and hoped to pass out while they went soaring into the night’s sky.

*

They put him on painkillers.

Mr. Stark’s medical team were quick about that one, and the drugs were fast. They were both speedy and strong. He didn’t remember much about the process of having his leg set and casted, but he did remember voices murmuring up above him. He couldn’t quite hold on to them, but they were talking, amazed, about his healing abilities. It would take just a couple of days for his leg to be back to normal, and less than that for the bruises to disappear.

Until then, however, he was laid up on Mr. Stark’s couch. His leg was propped up, in a blue cast and there were lots of pillows supporting his back, so he could sit up without effort. Everything came back into focus. The blurriness in his head cleared up as the pain started to trickle back in. Then he remembered.

He had just one concern.

“I need to call May,” said Peter, and to his shock, a voice answered back.

“Already done.”

He slowly, carefully, turned his head and saw Mr. Stark in the recliner, staring at him.

“Don’t worry,” he told him. “I broke the news to her about the octopus, too.”

“Is he –“

“-He’s alive,” said Mr. Stark. “Uh, he just won’t be doing very much for a while, and he definitely won’t be calling your aunt back.”

Relief flooded through muscles that should’ve ached. Mission accomplished, but it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. It sort of sucked, actually. That May started dating again just to get stuck with Otto. That her happiness got delayed again. It only served to reinforce his already made-up about staying in the city for school.

He looked at Mr. Stark. It was the perfect time for the truth about college. While he was drugged out and the consequences didn’t seem as bad, and while he was bruised and broken to the point Mr. Stark would feel guilty if he started to yell.  

“I have to tell you something,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark looked up from his phone and didn’t miss a beat. “I already know you think you’re not going to MIT, Peter.”

Maybe it was still the drugs, but he didn’t quite catch what was said, or at least the implication behind what was said.

“W-what?”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “And I knew you would end up getting cold feet, so I paid someone at the admissions office to keep an eye out for your acceptance status. When you declined, idiot move by the way, I just had the evidence destroyed and sent in the deposit for your first semester instead.”

It was said so simply. As if it were completely normal behavior to employ spies at a university, and as if semesters at MIT were cheap. This was helicopter Mr. Stark. He never really left. He just tried to change during the moments that really mattered, or the ones that didn’t. Peter couldn’t figure out which way it went, but either way, he felt the only appropriate reaction was anger. Only as much anger as the medication would allow, though.

He still felt pretty fuzzy.

“…you can’t just do that,” said Peter. “You can’t just accept on my behalf and force me to go.”

“Sure I can, I already did.” said Mr. Stark. He leaned back in the recliner. “Tell me that you really don’t want to go. Convince me, and I’ll pull my deposit and put it towards a school closer to home.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He, apparently, wasn’t capable of lying even without the drugs, so he didn’t see a point in trying. All that was left was the truth.

“I can’t leave May, or Queens.”

“Your aunt is more than capable of protecting herself,” said Mr. Stark. “And you know she wouldn’t want you to sit out of college her behalf. She would never forgive herself, and besides, I’ll still be here.”

“Spider-Man –“

“-will take a break.”

Peter didn’t attempt anymore arguments. There wasn’t any Mr. Stark wouldn’t easily counter, and there wasn’t any energy left in him to try it. He was going to MIT in the fall. It was inevitable now, and different, because he could blame Mr. Stark for it every time he felt like it was selfish. It was a better gift than paying his tuition, really. That he could go to the college he wanted and push all the guilt on Mr. Stark for manipulating the situation.

He’d still feel bad about leaving Aunt May, of course, but he figured Mr. Stark was right. She would feel bad if he didn’t go, and he’d end up feeling terrible either way.

The conversation was officially over, so Mr. Stark provided him with more painkillers, a cold-pack for his swelling eyes, a glass of water and a demand for him to get some rest. The pills made him sleep, and when he woke up, he felt better. Still hurt, but better than the night before. Well enough even to get up and try to move around on the crutches.

He found Mr. Stark in the workshop and stopped, sudden and shocked, at the shiny car sitting in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter. He leaned on the crutches, putting his full weight there instead of his good leg. “How long was I asleep?”

“Just the night,” said Mr. Stark. “And half the day. Why?”

“What is that?”  

“Your car,” he said. “Don’t you recognize it?”

“No. This… this can’t be the same car.”

The car they’d be working on was rusty and falling apart despite all their effort. This one looked new and fast.

“Maybe I put some custom parts in it,” he said. There were a few seconds of silence. “Maybe I put a lot of custom parts in it.”

“May’s going to flip.”

“She’s not going to be thrilled about those bruises, either, genius, but I figured it’ll be better if we get it over with all at the same time.”

Peter nodded, and Mr. Stark was correct. She wasn’t thrilled with his broken leg, or his black-eyes and bruises. He had returned to the couch in the penthouse living room when she arrived. She sat next to him, looking him over, and apologized.

“I should’ve known,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

Hearing her apologize hurt worse than any of his injuries. This one was Peter’s fault. Otto turned out to be crazy only by chance. He only stumbled into some scheme he didn’t even understand, and next time, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. That eventually May would date someone normal, who wasn’t Ben, and he’d have to accept that, from miles away in Massachusetts.

Thanks to Mr. Stark’s meddling he didn’t have much time left in Queens. Just a few weeks.  

“I’m sorry too,” said Peter. “I promise I won’t go all Mr. Stark on you next time you date someone… unless there really is –“

May narrowed her eyes.

“I promise I won’t stalk your next boyfriend.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” said May. She looked around the big, empty living room. “Where’s Tony? He said he had something to show me…”

Peter happily directed her to the workshop, happy for once someone else was in trouble and not him. That he had nothing to do with the under authorized upgrades on his graduation present. He watched her disappeared into the elevator, preferring the couch over front seats to seeing May berate Mr. Stark about the car. He needed the rest to heal, and anyway, he was pretty sure he’d be able to hear the shouting that he knew was coming.

[ivyandink]

a life update

if you’re interested! :) i know im the nosy person who loves reading about peoples’ personal lives, so if that’s you.... below the cut sis, i see you lol

I have been sooo absent from tumblr for months now! And I know I don’t owe any explanations or anything, but idk, I just thought it’d be kinda fun to share with you guys what’s been keeping my mind busy and away! So here goes nothin’.

I had one hell of a summer. Emphasis on hell. Read: Family DRAMA. Which left me in a pretty rough place mentally/emotionally. In a much, much better place with it all now (altho as I say that my crazy aunt has been texting me all day tryna drag me bag into stuff lol no rest for the wicked y’all). But, when you’re feeling kinda down, it’s hard to find the energy to create.

I am starting up my web design side hustle!!! Which has been a long time coming lol. I’ve been meaning to do this for years, but things never quite lined up or worked out. Last year, I finally felt like I was at a good place to start, so I have! This is by far taking up the most space in my brain for now, as I’m still getting things off the ground. It’s hard to balance starting a business while working full time, and also trying to have other hobbies/interests/social interaction lolol. PS: If you or anyone you know needs a website designed.... ;) just sayin’. I know a gal.......... me. It’s me. I’m the gal. Moving on. :)

I’ve been revisiting my novel. Idk if I ever talked about it much on here or just vaguely referenced it here and there? But last Spring (yikes almost a year ago.. BIG YIKES) I started a novel with the goal to finish by 2020. I wrote about 3 chapters and effectively scrapped it. lmao. So here we are! Revisiting the drawing board. FYI, this novel is an adaptation of my “Disapora” story if any of yall remember that hot ass M E S S-- aka, how Eli and Clem meet, fall in love and what not. My concept is to take my Ivy characters and kind of build them out their own book series... a series that would explore generational ties and relationships, and give me space to REALLY develop these characters I’ve loved so much. Like, I could gush and geek over this forever, but developing the old Elliot and Clementine into REAL characters (let’s be honest, their development had always been a little... lite lol) feels amazing, and seeing the same character yet also they’re so different?? It’s hard to explain, but it’s exciting, and fun, and a big, long-term project/goal of mine, and 2020 is the year I write the first book!!!! Or at least start it lol.

I lost my very best furry friend, my cat Juno, in December. See above for mental hardship making it hard to create. However, Seth and I have opened our hearts and home to two little ragdoll brothers , who we’ve had for a few weeks now, and are in love with. I think Juno would’ve really loved them too. ❤️ They’re a lil bad sometimes lol I like to think they’re in the preteen phase right now, and acting up and being extra. But they’re so cute and sweet and quirky, and already apart of our little family.

Then there’s just tons of misc things that have sucked up my time. Like: learning how to use my iPad Pro + Apple Pencil, creating a digital bullet journal with said iPad/Pencil combo, researching going back to college for my MSW to then become an LCSW (good LORD the acronyms in the field... kill m e) and become a therapist, researching houses we cannot afford???? literally wasting entire days looking on Trulia/Zillow/etc. lol, trying out a super DUPER extreme elimination diet to pinpoint some of my health issues (which i suspect might be autoimmune by nature, as it runs in the fam, despite me not being diagnosed-- and there is a lot of at the bare minimum anecdotal evidence that AI diseases are caused by food intolerances), went through a weird regression where I played Zelda for a few days lmao, and I’ve also taken up a daily manifestation journaling practice! And lord knows what else. :)

All of this is to say.... YEAH I’ve been busy. But here I am. I can’t make any promises to myself or others are my content, how often I’ll post, if I’ll ever even finish this dang story, or what. But!! That’s all good. :) I’m gonna let myself have fun with this hobby. Because for ME, I need something I can just have fun with. Read all the above points for things in my life that aren’t meant to be taken very seriously and leave no room for ‘just have fun with it’ and you’ll get it lolol. At the end of the day tho, I love tumblr, for as much shit as we all talk about it. It scratches a very particular itch for me, and it’s an enjoyable itch to scratch (???? weird metaphor but ok). It’s fun. I love the community (I’m good at blocking the icky blogs, and love my mutuals/followers/anons/people who interact). And I love having Like Ivy in the back of my head, getting ideas and inkings for it here and there, with no pressure on myself to do anything with it, right away. I want to keep this as my creative, free for all kinda space. But that might mean some radio silence here and there. I feel like most my main followers are also adults tho with busy lives??? So I’m sure y’all more than understand the struggle lolol. 

OH I almost forgot-- keep your 👀 peeled for the return of my Youtube channel this year! That was another fun hobby I enjoyed doing just for myself. I still need to figure out how I can make it work for me, in my new crazy life/schedule lol but alas!!!!! I’m a double scorpio and i LOVE a good challenge. Also might be a bit of a masochist??? So, I’ll figure it out, no worries lolol.

If you read this, and got all the way to the end without tapping out, I just wanted to say hey 👋 I see you. You’re awesome. I love you. Thanks for being interested in me. Also, we’re nosy creepers together, so we clearly have that in common 💁‍♀️ and idk! even if I’m not posting, I’m always lurking/around and always open to chat, answer asks, whatever. :) And if you have any questions about anything I wrote here, feel free to shoot them my way too!! All humans lowkey love talking about themselves (this post? case, and point oof). No shame~

Anyways-- thanks for reading!