#also this has got to be the fastest i go from watching something to making gifs

[crimsonscloud]

ELLIOT PAGE

as Viktor Hargreeves in THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY season 4 teaser trailer

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[adrienneleclerc]

A Cinderella Story

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N, a McLaren mechanic, dances with the prince of Ferrari, at a Rolex masquerade charity ball. Charles has no clue who he danced with and is trying to find the girl of his dreams.

Warning: bad writing I guess, spelling and grammatical errors, inaccurate events

A/N: like i said before, I’m new to F1 so I don’t really know what kind of events go on so bear with me, please. Also, thank you so much for liking my other Charles Leclerc one shots, you have no idea how much it means to me that you like them. Y/N’s relationship with the Lando and Oscar is very much like brother and sister. Y/N is younger, mainly because I’m 21, hope all of y’all are okay with that.

Y/N was talking to Lando about his car after the Monaco Free Practice 1. (As a mechanic, she has her hair up)

“I am almost finished fixing your car, I think there’s something missing but it could be that I’m overthinking. You think you can test it out before FP2? That’s allowed, right?” Y/N asked, fishing her bracelet out of her pocket and putting it back on.

“Yeah I can drive it, 10 laps should be enough, yeah?” Lando asked, putting on his race suit and helmet.

“You’re the best, Lando!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I know.” Lando teased as he got in the car.

After the 10 laps, Lando got out of the car, took his helmet off, tied the suit around his waist, and walked to Y/N.

“The car is good, you worry too much, there is a reason why Zak hired you as a mechanic. Listen, I’m going out with the guys from Quadrant, want to come? I’ll invite Oscar too.” Lando said.

“Yeah sure I’ll come, when?” Y/N asked.

“I was thinking after the second practice, we can hit the showers, change, and go straight to the club.” Lando said.

“Okay, sounds good, I’ll go ask Oscar if he wants to come.” Y/N said, she was clearing her stuff and was on her way to talk to Oscar when she bumped into someone. “Que torpe soy, I'm so sorry.” Y/N apologized without looking.

“My fault, chéri, you alright?” Charles asked, looking at Y/N for signs of discomfort.

“Nah I'm good, thank you.” Y/N said flustered, unbeknownst to her, Oscar saw the whole thing go down and he was holding in his laughter. “Don’t you dare, Australia.” Y/N warned.

“Your crush on Leclerc is so obvious, America, it hurts to watch.” Oscar said between laughs.

“Ha ha, like you weren't like this around Lily?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, I was nervous, but I definitely wasn't as bad as you." Oscar said.

"Anyway, Lando invited us to go out after FP2 with the quadrant gang, you coming? Please say yes, Lando is probably going to spend all night talking to Max anyway, I can’t be alone.” Y/N practically begged.

“Yeah sure, I’ll go, you need a few drinks to erase what happened with Leclerc.” Oscar said.

“Awesome! So Zak sent an email saying that he has a surprise for us tomorrow, do you have any idea what that might be?" Y/N asked, showing Oscar the email on her phone, Oscar took her phone to read it better.

"I don't know what it could be about. Anything that needs to be fixed in my car or is it good?" Oscar asked.

"it should be fine, i checked everything with Henry and Bryan (other mechanics), nothings wrong. It’s ready for the second free practice." Y/N said.

“Great. You'll be watching, right?" Oscar asked.

"Of course! Need to make sure my papaya boys get fastest lap." Y/N said.

"And your monegasque too." Oscar teased.

"Don't make me hurt you, Australia." Y/N said.

"You love me too much to do that, America." Oscar said, walking.

"Whatever." Y/N replied.

Two hours later, FP2 started, Y/N was watching everything with the rest of the team, eating chips.

“Is that necessary?” Andrea asked.

“You have no idea how much.” Y/N commented.

FP2 went well, Charles Leclerc got fastest lap. Lando and Oscar took off the helmets and balaclavas, tying their suits around their waists.

“Great free practice, sorry you didn’t get fastest lap though.” Y/N said.

“No your not.” Lando commented.

“Bet you were happy when Leclerc got it.” Oscar said.

“Well I can’t say I wasn’t happy.” Y/N said.

“Alright so let’s start getting ready. Will you drive or am I driving you?” Lando asked.

“I carpooled with Henry, drive me?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure. Shit, i can’t, gotta pick up Max.” Lando said.

“I’ll drive you.” Oscar offered.

“Thanks, Australia.” Y/N said. “Now both of you hit the showers, y’all are sweaty.” Y/N said.

After the boys showered, they changed, Y/N changed into something more club appropriate and let her hair down.

Y/N walked to Oscar’s car.

“What took you so long?” Oscar asked.

“Im a girl, guys can wear a shirt and jeans and everyone will freak out, if I wear the same thing, I get told I look crusty.” Y/N said.

“But you just had that outfit with you?” Oscar asked.

“If I learned anything from watching Crazy Rich Asians, you should always have a clubbing outfit and a cocktail outfit with you at all time.” Y/N said, getting into the passenger seat of Oscar’s car. “Lando sent you the address right?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Oscar said. He started the car, they listened to music and talked until they got to the club. They got in, Y/N said hello to everyone with a kiss on the cheek because that’s how her mom raised her. She sat at their booth and Y/N spotted Charles at the bar.

“Bro, Charles is here.” Y/N said, patting Oscar’s arm.

“And? You gonna do something or observe from afar like you always do?” Oscar asked.

“Well…” Y/N started but she saw a woman approach Charles. “I don’t want to interrupt his scintillating conversation.”

“I Don’t understand, you talk to Lando and I just fine.” Oscar commented.

“I was nervous around you guys too, don’t lie. I just got used to y’all, but I never had a crush this huge before, I’ve never been in a relationship, had a first date, or even a first kiss, I’m very inexperienced, okay?” Y/N admitted (guilty).

“So you’re just going to be pining away for him?” Oscar asked,

“Yep.” Y/N said.

The table ordered drinks, designated drivers get 2 drinks max. The night was fun, Lando got to deejay again, Carlos was also there so he joined their group. Since they had free practice 3 tomorrow, they needed to rest up. Oscar dropped Y/N off at her apartment, she changed, washed her face, put on a silk bonnet to protect her hair, and went to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N had her hair in two French braids and wearing her favorite bracelet. She drove to the the track and walked to the Lando’s garage.

“Are you as tired as I look?” Y/N asked.

“No, I feel fine, really.” Lando said,

“Lucky, i had trouble sleeping.” Y/N said. Lando was going to say something else when Zak came into the garage.

“Alright, I have an announcement to make. As you know, F1 is partners with Rolex, so we are invited to Rolex’s masquerade charity ball. It will be on Sunday after the Grand Prix. It starts at 8, it gives you plenty of time to get ready after the race and podium interviews.” Zak said. Everyone was excited.

“Would you give me money to buy a dress? And shoes?” Y/N whispered to Lando.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll go shopping with you.” Lando whispered back.

“This is why I love you.” Y/N teased. Zak walked towards Y/N and Lando went to talk to Oscar.

"Y/N, I need you in the McLaren Technology Centre on Monday." Zak said.

"Really? For what?" Y/N asked.

“For mechanical stuff. We’re planning on creating a new McLaren, you like the creative process, and I still need Henry and Bryan here if we have anything major to fix after the Grand Prix. I already got your ticket, first class too. Don’t miss your flight.” Zak said.

“Of course, I won’t.” Y/N said. Zak gave Y/N her ticket and she started checking the information. Her flight leaves at 3am. “Wait, isn’t this flight a little soon?”

“I know, but I need as many people working on the new McLaren as possible. You’ll only be there for 4 days, then you can relax in Monaco before we go to Canada.” Zak said and he walked away. Lands came back with Oscar and saw Y/N’s worried face.

“Whats wrong, America?” Oscar asked.

“If i go to the Rolex ball thing, I would have to leave before midnight so I have time to change and go to airport in Nice. Oh shit, I have to pack my luggage.” Y/N said.

“Can’t you just skip the ball?” Landon asked.

“Dude, when am I ever going to get invited to theses kind of events? I’m going and you’re taking me shopping.” Y/N said, pointing at Lando.

“Fine, but we’re getting food after. You think we can do it after qualifying?” Lando asked.

“I guess, but you’re calling the store, they know you.” Y/N said. “How do y’all feel about this race?” Y/N asked the boys.

“Max is definitely winning, but hopefully we’ll get on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I believe in you guys, really.” Y/N said before hugging them.

“But you also want Leclerc on the podium.” Oscar said.

“I’m just a girl, leave me alone.” Y/N said,

FP3 and Quali went by fast, no accidents. Max got pole, Charles P2, Oscar P3. During the break between FP3 and Quali, Y/N tried fixing up her Jeep Wrangler Sahara, with Zak’s okay so, of course. Lando texted Y/N the address to the shop and she drove there, parking right next to Lando.

“Alright, love, let’s get you that dress.” Lands said, guiding Y/N into the store with his hand on her lower back. “Hello, we’re looking for an evening dress for her.” Lando told the sales associate.

“Of course, all these dresses right here should be in your size, we have a selection of heels that would go well with these dresses as well.” The sales associate, Ana, said.

“Do you have any dresses in pastel blue?” Y/N asked. Ana started looking through the rack and pulled out a dress that she thought Y/N might like.

“Here you go. Because this dress has a slit, I recommend some tall high heels to elongate your legs. I prefer the platform ones like these.” Ana said, showing Y/N the heels. “Here is a dressing room, I’ll be right outside if you need help zipping it up, okay?” Ana said, handing Y/N the dress and heels.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N said, stepping into the dressing room and getting changed. She got the dress on and sat in the chair to put on the heels. After she strapped on the heels, she tries zipping up the dress, but can’t make it to the top. “Ana, I need help.” Y/N said. Ana pulled the curtain and helped Y/N zip the dress.

“You look beautiful.” Ana said. Y/N walked out of the dressing room, and she looked at Lando, who was on his phone, he looked up and his jaw dropped.

“Wow Y/N, you look great. You’ll be the most beautiful girl there.” Lando said, getting up to get a closer look. He made the motion to have Y/N twirl and she did.

“Not bad for a mechanic, right?” Y/N joked.

“Not bad at all. We’ll take it.” Lando said.

“I’ll change and we’ll be on our way.” Y/N said. Lando unzipped the dress, stopping right above her waist and Y/N unzipped the rest already in the dressing room. She changed, putting the dress on the hanger and the heels in its box, she got out and gave the things to Lando so he could pay.

After paying Lando handed Y/N her things and they walked outside to their cars.

“Thanks again for buy it.” Y/N said.

“Yeah of course. Where do you want to eat though? I’m starving.” Lands said.

“You pick.” Y/N said.

“If you say so.” Lando said. “Just follow me.” Lando got into his car, Y/N got in hers, and she followed Lando to Graziella, an Italian restaurant.

They were seated, Lando had beef tagliata with Gorgonzola sauce and French fries, Y/N had penne alla carbonara (I looked up the restaurant menu to be as accurate as possible). When they finished eating, they went to the parking lot to get their cars.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Lando said goodbye, they hugged before driving off to their apartments.

When arriving to her apartment, Y/N started playing music as she packed for a four day trip. She hung her dress right in front of her closet. She finished packing, had a late night snack, and went to bed.

Tonight’s the night, after the Grand Prix with Max P1, Charles P2, and Lando P3, Y/N was getting ready, putting on her dress, her shoes, styling her hair down, and putting on her bracelet. Everything looked good, her luggage was already in her car. She drove to the venue where the ball was taking place, gave her name to the people in charge, and Y/N was given a masquerade mask.

(Choose whichever dress you like better)

Y/N walked in and all eyes were on her. She began fiddling with her bracelet until two guys approached her.

“America, you look great.” Oscar said.

“Thanks, Australia, Lando showed you the picture he took yesterday huh?” Y/N asked.

“He did.” Oscar said.

“I had to show you off. I don’t see you with your hair down that often, you know.” Lando said.

“I’m a mechanic, can’t have my hair in my face.” Y/N commented. “I’m gonna get a drink, okay, I’ll be right back,” Y/N said, she walked to the drink table to get herself some champagne and another guy walked up to her.

“You made quite the entrance, you know. You Commanded the attention of everyone in the room.” The guy spoke, his voice seemed familiar to Y/N but almost everyone in Monaco has a similar voice.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” Y/N feigned an English accent as she curtsied.

“Do you go to these events often?” The guy asked, also sipping champagne,

“Not really, it’s technically a work thing, but this is my first time going to a charity ball.” Y/N replied to the mask stranger. His eyes a beautiful shade of blue-green, his eyes feel so familiar to her, why the hell can’t she figure out who this guy is.

“I’m here for work as well.” The guy replied. They kept talking until a slow song started playing. “Care to dance, chéri?” The guy extended his hand to Y/N

“I’d love to.” Y/N said, taking his hand to dance.

“Baby blue is actually one of my favorite colors.” The guys admitted.

“It’s mine too. I love all shades of blue, but pastel blue is just beautiful.” Y/N said. “So since you’re here for work, what do you do? I’m a mechanic.”

“You’re definitely the prettiest mechanic I ever saw. I’m a driver.” The guys replied. What’s going on in Y/N’s mind is that he’s a driver and has a French accent, it could be Pierre, but he’s with Kika. She’s hoping it’s Charles but she doesn’t want to get disappointed either.

“Thank you, that’s cool that you’re a driver.” Y/N said.

They talked and danced some more, it was all going well until the clock chimed, saying it was 11:55pm.

“Listen, Frenchy, it’s been fun, but I gotta go,” Y/N said, pulling away from him.

“I’m not French, I’m monegasque.” The guy said, the confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. He took off the mask.

“Charles.” Y/N said.

“Yes, I’m Charles Leclerc, what’s your name?” Charles asked, Y/N heard the clock chime again.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go.” Y/N said, she exits the hall and puts the mask on the table before running out the the parking lot to get into her car to drive to her apartment. Charles chased after her but she saw her car leaving. He looked on the ground and he saw the bracelet that she was wearing on the floor.

“I will find out who you are.” Charles said, placing the bracelet in his suit pocket.

Y/N made it to her apartment, parked her car, went upstairs, got changed, and went downstairs to her car but it won’t start.

“Hijo de la chingada, this can’t be happening to me.” Y/N said. She got her luggage out of her car and order an Uber to nice airport,

The car arrived and dropped her off at the airport, she was on time for her flight, everything was good, but Y/N noticed her bracelet was missing.

“Ah, for fucks sake.” Y/N exclaimed as she waited in the terminal for them to call her flight.

Meanwhile Charles got into his Ferrari and drove back to his apartment. When he was home with his dog Leo, he was looking at Instagram to see if anyone posting from the event was the girl he danced with.

"What do you think, Leo? Am i going crazy?" Charles asked the blonde dachshund on his lap. He gets no answer. "Okay, maybe a little, but I had a wonderful time with her."

Charles decided to do the reasonable thing and posted a photo of the charm bracelet he found with the caption "Does this belong to you? Found on the floor of (venue) on May 26th. Contact me if this bracelet is yours." Charles turned off his phone and decided to go to sleep.

The next day, Y/N got off the plane, she turned off the airplane mode on her phone, and that's when she started recieving calls from Lando, she answered.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? I just got off the plane, who died?" Y/N asked, confused why she had so many texts and missed calls from Lando and Oscar.

"Charles posted a photo of your charm bracelet last night. You fucking danced with Charles and you didn't tell me or Oscar? We're happy for you." Lando said. "You should tell him its yours."

"No way, I know i told him i was a mechanic last night, but he is definitely expecting someone as beautiful as Kika, he would totally be disappointed if he finds out it was me." Y/N said, getting an Uber to drive her to the hotel Zak also booked for her.

"You are beautiful, Y/N, honestly, if we weren't friends, i would have flirted with you everyday until you gave me a chance." Lando said.

"Thank you but i can't help but feel how i feel. I gott go, I'm heading to my hotel then i'll go to McLaren, talk to you later." Y/N said.

The four days Y/N was in Woking, Charles was answering DMs of women claiming it was their bracelet. He would follow up with the questions "What do you do for work?" and "What color was your dress?" No one has answered those two questions correctly. Charles was starting to think it was a lost cause and he would never find her. He decided to go out with Pierre and Kika and he brought Leo with him.

"Still haven't found her, Charlie?" Pierre asked.

"No! It has been four days, everyone in my DMs who is claiming the bracelet is not her." Charles said.

"Charles, do you even know this girl's name?" Kika asked.

"I don't, i just have her bracelet and there is no indication of a name or anything that could be useful." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, Charles." Kika said, rubbing his arm.

"I felt we had a connection, even if she did call me frenchy." Charles said.

"Well there isn't a way to shorten 'monegasque' you know." Pierre said.

"Yes, I am aware." Charles said.

It was now the Canadian Grand Prix, Y/N flew with Lando and Oscar obviously. When they landed, they went to their hotel rooms, to leave their stuff and went to the hotel restaurant to order some food. Y/N had her hair down becasue she was not risking a ponytail headache. She was sitting with Oscar while Lando was talking to Carlos. Charles came downstairs and he spotted Y/N with her hair down. It looked remarkably similar to the girl he danced with. She saw Lando with Carlos so he sat right next to Lando.

"Hey Lando, quick question, did Y/N attend the Rolex thing?" Charles asked.

"She did, yeah, why?" Lando asked the monegasque.

"Does this happen to be her bracelet?" Charles asked, pulling out the bracelet from his pants pocket.

"Okay, why are you carrying that around?" Lando asked curiously.

"Just answer the question, Lando." Charles said.

"yes, yes, thats her bracelet." Lando admitted.

It all made sense, Charles started thinking about the first time he met Y/N and she called him 'Frenchy'.

It was Y/N's first day in the paddock and she walked into Charles's garage by accident. She was looking around and she bumped into him, Charles exclaimed something in French.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, frenchy, I'm just a little lost." Y/N said.

"First, I am not French, i am monegasque." Charles said.

"Oh my god, you're Charles Leclerc! Sorry, I'm Y/N, I'm looking for the McLaren garage." Y/N said, holding her hand out for Charles to shake, which he did.

"Its on the other side actually. So why are you here?" Charles asked.

"Oh, I am McLaren's new mechanic." Y/N said.

"Nice to meet you, I'll walk you to McLaren." Charles said.

Charles had a tiny crush on her since that day but Y/N hardly spoke to him so he thought she didn't like him. He wlaked over to the table where Y/N was with Oscar.

"Y/N, can i talk to you for a second?" Charles asked. Y/N looked at Oscar.

"I'm gonna sit with Logan." Oscar said, getting up. Charles took his seat.

"I think this is yours." Charles said, showing Y/n the bracelet.

"Are you disappointed to find out that i was the girl you danced with?" Y/N asked, too shy to look at him. Charles lift her chin with his finger so she could look in his eyes.

"Why would i be disappointed? I don't know if you noticed, amour, but I've like you since you came into my garage by accident." Charles admitted. "Were you disappointed to find out you danced with me? Is that why you rushed out so quickly?"

"No, of course not! I had to go to Woking for some McLaren business and my flight was at 3am so I had to leave to change and have time to go to the airport in Nice. I was so shocked that it was you though, like i was dancing with my celebrity crush the whole night." Y/N said.

"Good to hear I'm your celebrity crush. Let's get this bracelet on." Charles said, opening the bracelet, Y/N held out her wrist, and Charles successfully secured the bracelet on her wrist. "That's better."

"It is. Thank you for finding it, I would have died if i lost it." Y/N said.

"It's no problem. So i was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me, we could go after FP2." Charles suggests.

"I would like that a lot." Y/N said.

"Perfect. Is it alright if i kissed you? I've been imagining this moment for months." Charles said.

"Go ahead." Y/N said. Charles moved her hair behind he ear and kissed her softly. They pulled away. "That was way better than my dreams."

"You dream about kissing me, mon ange?" Charles teasingly asked.

"You imagined kissing me too." Y/N said.

"True, I'm glad i don't have to imagine it anymore though." Charles said, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulders as they looked over the menu.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Was it too long? I thought it was okay

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Just hear me out,

Wild west outlaw König.

That's all ,please and thank you❤️

P.s I love love love your work and you inspire me so much more than words can express,so thank you so much

Wild West Outlaw König Headcanons

Warnings: Outlaw König, König Kills People, Obsessive König, König (DEEP) in Love, Looting, Kidnapping, Implied Smut, Non-Explicit Descriptions of Smut, Dominant König, Submissive König, Mention of Ghost, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You.

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words, my lovely ! Your kind words have touched my heart, and I hope your creative endeavours flourish <3

Man owns a pair of handcuffs and KNOWS how to use them.

Let’s work on the assumption that he kidnapped you.

Perhaps you were already partially romantically involved but your family would never let you marry someone like König, so he stages a robbery and takes you as part of the ransom.

One he has no intention of accepting any payment for because he’s never letting you go.

König’s monstrous proportions make it easy for him to physically overpower aggressors – other bandits, outlaws, authority figures.

However, he does pose something of a hazard to himself because there’s (much) more of him to hit.

Luckily, he’s straight out of a situation the minute it gets sticky – as if he just disappears into thin air.

Just one of the reasons why he’s called the Phantom Outlaw.

Not to be confused with Ghost, who is also an outlaw but never leaves a trace (or a witness), making his reputation far more ghoulish than König’s.

Though, König does excel in the fear factor, his sheer size and notoriety – his trenchcoat and mask the very visage of Death – forcing everyone who sees him to relinquish their goods in exchange for their lives.

Speaking of, König’s ability to swing thousands in cash makes for a happy home life, given how he spends much of his fortune on you.

Clothes, jewels, literature, instruments, automobiles: you name it, you’ve got at least a treasure trove of each.

Even if you try to resist these gifts, König refuses to let up.

“Can’t have my precious little Engel going without, can I ?”

So, in return, you typically handle all the chores, though König insists you don’t have to.

“It’s not like we can hire a maid to do it for us, can we ?” you tell him. “Especially not when there’s a handsome bounty on that even more handsome head of yours.”

Said bounty is what makes it difficult for the two of you to stay in one place for too long.

And whenever you move, you always try to make the house a safe space for König.

Blankets in his favourite chair, his favourite meal on the table for him whenever you know he’s going to have a rough day, a bit of fun before bed, etc.

You can tell whenever he feels really comfortable, because he takes up three quarters of the bed, just sprawled out like a rapidly growing infection.

And you always fit neatly against his side. Or on his chest.

König calls you his “Little bunny” (or “Bun-Bun”) because of how small you look when you’re nuzzled into his chest.

He never takes you, or anything you do, for granted.

You don’t know this (so keep this a secret between you and I) but König watches you when you sleep. More than you’d think.

Truth be told, the outlaw life terrifies him.

Sure, he has the swagger and the notoriety to make off with thousands in gold, jewels, and lavish material items, but, really, his greatest, most prized treasure is you.

There is only one of you. You cannot be bought, or replicated, or found in the wild like an ore of purest diamond.

Simply put, König’s success is entirely down to the fact that he can’t be caught lacking.

If he ever was to, he knows he’d lose you. Whether you’re taken by a stray bullet in a shoot-out or your town’s rangers come to tear you from his cold, lifeless grip, König takes every precaution to circumvent these tragedies by remaining the fastest hand in the west. And the most ruthless.

Even for an outlaw, his kill count is exceedingly high.

And it’s no coincidence that the numbers began to climb after he met you. Fell in love with you.

People who he’s seen giving you lecherous stares, or those he can sense have poor intentions, he’s taken them out the back and absolved the world of their presence.

And, at the end of every excursion, every execution, every haul, the weight of the world falls from König’s shoulders as he comes back to you.

He takes his mask down around you, hangs his hat upon the coat rack. You’re the only person who he shows his face to.

But, whenever you can tell a fragment of the day resides pinned in his mind, shrapnel of his self-inflicted lifestyle, you make sure to service him before bed.

How he likes to be serviced can change on a day-to-day basis. He’s not fussy.

The only thing that changes is whether he wants to be handled by you or if he wants to slam you into the pillows.

Possessive sex <333.

“Tell me you love me,” he rasps into your ear, pinning you to the mattress with his body, making escape an impossibility to you. “Tell me I’m the only one that will ever have you like this,”

As stated previously; he has a pair of handcuffs and knows how to use them.

Or, if they’re too far out of reach and he needs you bound now, he’ll use rope. Or even just his hands.

Eye contact. The whole time.

It’s as if a different person inhabits him when he gets like this; something dark and jagged, no mere demon, possesses his form. And, by extension, yours.

König’s not stopping until you’re full, he’s empty, and he’s confident you’re not leaving the house for the next few days.

But, when König is feeling fragile, he lets you take the lead.

Just lies back while you’re on top of him, calling him your “Good boy”, “my Prince”, “my protector,” – anything that reaffirms that he holds a great deal of importance in your life.

More often than not, he ends up with tears in his eyes.

Nobody has ever been so gentle and loving towards him as you have. And coupled with how you’re taking him slowly, taking the time to make sure you’re hitting all bases and he’s thoroughly loved, sends him over the edge.

Kiss his tears away and his soul leaves his body.

It’s times like these that, more than anything, König wants a simple life. A paroxysmal desire to lead an ordinary existence where the two of you can live together happily, without the threat of being chased out of town every few months.

And, maybe, one day, even have a family together.

Until then, König will continue to dream, to give you a lifestyle of sapphires and gold and every delicacy the human mind can conjure.

And whenever he looks at you before he leaves, he sees his good luck charm, the light at the end of his tunnel. And, most importantly, the embodiment of love itself.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about threesomes with Boomer

I can imagine the most fun threesomes would be with Digger and Nanaue

The one to be the most difficult to bottom I think would be Nanaue solely because he'd have to be dp'ed the entire time I think? Because no way would anyone be putting their dick near his mouth...

But I think it'd be so fun with Digger. You've said repeatedly that he rushes prep, and I agree. So you'd probably have to tie this guy up for prep to take Nanaue or if he does manage to get it rushed, it probably takes forever to get Digger fully seated and he's probably crying the whole time

I am a King "huge monster dick" Shark truther. That guys humongous??? His dick matches

Yeah, Boomer's dick is big but that's for an average person. Nanaue tho...

I think the most competitive threesomes is definitely Digger and Deadshot. Who's the biggest, who can make you cum the hardest or fastest, who can last longer, who has the biggest loads, blah blah blah. Probably got a little notepad by the bed with a fuck ton of tally marks on it

The ones most adventurous/insane would probably be with Harley. They're probably doing shit you've never heard of, kind of motherfuckers that try anything once with very few hard nos. Also reader and Harley tag teaming Boomer could be sooo fun. Could probably use genuine torture tactics on him and he's cumming. Could discover so many kinks with them, I think it'd be fun

-🐧

Okay but thinking about…

watching Digger being practically skewed onto Nanaue’s dick, tears trickling down his face thighs shaking yet being determined as ever to take it and when the sweet thing finally gets used to the stretch and starts slowly but surely working himself up and down nanaues length you can’t help but tease him telling him how a monster cock probably isn’t enough for a greedy slut like him maybe he should take yours as well just to make sure he’s satisfied and although he knows he can’t take you and Nanaue at the same time a man can dream right? And he quickly cums at the sheer thought

And what about tally marks being drawn onto Digger’s skin; above his belly button, or on his thighs and back, along with some degrading words scribbled next to the tally marks, while you and Deadshot try and see how many times you can make him cum? And Digger is here for it loves to challenge himself especially when it comes to something like this, will have nothing but pathetic spurts of cum spilling from cock and he’d still want to go for another round, he also loves testing new and crazy positions just to be able to pleasure you both at the same time, you’d go round after round until the three of you finally pass out

And I can definitely see torture tactics working on Digger-something you him and Harley had discovered by accident while out on a mission and now use it to its fullest potential. That man can take whips and chains but put a blindfold on him and lock him in a dark room with only a vibrator strapped onto his dick and he’s losing his god damn mind begging and pleading for the two of you to just fuck him

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

[pleasepress1forfrontdesk]

The Chains Are Heavy

(Levi's long awaited backstory, finally)

Special thanks to everyone who has been following and rp with me. You really have helped make this character more than he was meant to be.

(@fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency @tired-sayaka-ada @never-gets-sick @oscarsgallery @city-of-c0rpses @v-extreme-diminuendo @kijimha )

How did I get here again? It could all have been a simple life for me, but it wasn't. Ever since I became 10, I was rob. Robbed of my family, friends, goals, dreams, my childhood, and most importantly my innocence.

Not just my innocent mentally, but literally too. I lost my innocence of being a civil. They all hate me now. Rightfully so. After all I have been nothing but a danger to everyone around me. All I did was make things worse. This war could have ended quicker if it way for me....

How did I get here again....

Foul Ball

It all started on March 22, a day after my birthday and two days after my best buddy's birthday, Cooper. We have been friends since daycare and being in the nursery at church. Cooper was a year younger than me, he was a wild kid, always taking things to the risk or the extreme. Super fast as well, faster than all of the kids on the playground, running was one of his passions. Cooper once told me that when he grows up he'll become a track star. As silly as it sound he had my full support, because you could never say no to Cooper. You could never tell him what to do.

I on the other hand was the balance for Cooper's wild behavior. Much more soft spoken and tame for a 10 year old. I may have not been the fastest runner, but I sure did have a good arm at throwing things. I had a goal, to become the world's best baseball player. It was my dream after all, to be on the professional teams and be famous. I wanted to make my mom proud

I must admit some of my behavior is like that, mostly because I was a mommas boy. It was just her and I after all, which I didn't mind. Though sometimes Cooper would joke that his dad, who was also single, should marry my mom so that we can be brothers and live together. I always told him that we wouldn't need legal documents in order to be brothers. As long as we stick together we will always be brothers.

Well that promise didn't last long... Cooper and I wear out in the front yard of my house, playing baseball as usual. I was using my new metal bat that I got for my birthday, it was much stronger than my old wooden bat. We were having a fun time, Cooper was about to throw the ball until he arm suddenly dropped and let go of the ball.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I turned my head to see what Cooper was now looking at. My eyes widen and I start to feel the same sense of fear that Cooper might be feeling. Two black cars parked in my driveway, and five government agents came out of them. My heart skips a beat. It can't be.

I watched as the knocked on the front door of my home, my mom answering it a second later. The government agents start talking to her, and even though I couldn't hear what they were saying, I could tell by the look on mom's face that this way good.

Cooper tugged on my sleeve. "You don't think the president actually signed that bill right?..." Cooper looked worried now, and I so was I. I clenched my fist into my shirt.

"He would only sign it if war ever started....." The realization dawned upon us both. My lips trembled. "I don't want to go to war...." I mumbled those words with tears falling from my eyes.

That was the last day I ever saw my mom again.

That was the day I was robed of everything.

Strike 1

A 10 year old out in the battlefields of war, that isn't something you saw everyday. But here I was, fearing that my life could end at any moment in these trenches. And it would be like this for the next 9 years.

It took some adjusting to, though there was no time to adjust. Hand a gun to a 10 year old and tell him to go to the trenches and figure it out. I wasn't even given training. They didn't care. They wouldn't care about me. I was a child who would get in their way.

I didn't blame them. After all this wasn't the military decision after all, it was the horrible president at the time who made this decision. What the Nimone government did was cruel. They went through every legal citizen document and determined who would be drafted into war. We already had plenty of men above 18 drafted, but it wasn't enough. With the law at the time, anyone who was above 10 years old, could be drafted if they were proved useful enough to be used.

And that's what upset me the most. That I was just some weapon in their eyes. A tool to be once and never again. I wasn't the only one upstairs though. Many parents and families were upstairs by this dumb decision. It wasn't just families either, it was our own men as well who were outraged by this decision.

Upon my first day at the military base I met the leader of my unit squad, Captain Ross. He was a tall and well built man, always having a cigarette in hand and giving cold gazes at everyone. It was scary first meetings him. After all, the captains in the Nimone are train and built to be unstoppable military weapons. Nothing can stop them, and they will not stop until they are dead.

Being compared to this grown man compared to me was quite scary contrast. I was just some tiny kid compared to him. We both looked at each other for the first time and I can tell by the look in his mustard yellow eyes that he was displeased. There was a scoff as Ross stared down at me. "Who the Hell put a 10 year old in my unit squad? This is a kid, he should be home, not here about to die for our country." At least Ross and I were on the same page. Who's mess up idea was this anyways?

Everything from that day forward continued to go down. You expect the 10 year old to be a helper in transporting supplies or be in the med bay, but no I was thrown straight to the front lines. The trenches. The conditions of trenches were horrible, but the treatment around here was worse.

I wasn't given proper clothes that were my size, everything I worn was made for grown men. I had to learn how to sew to keep my shirt together because I wasn't given new clothes. I been wearing the same shirt the militarily gave me for over 10 years now.

The bunks were hard as rocks, I could barely sleep. That's even if I could sleep at all within the anxiety that any moment a bomb could drop on us. Sometimes I didn't even get to sleep in bed. Someone I would pass out in the trenches or on the floor. I had to push myself to still be barely functional.

They needed me after all, all for my ability. It was either fighting in the trenches, or infiltrating the enemy team as a spy. With my ability I could look, sound, and act like someone else as long as I had a single strand of their DNA on a peice of clothing for me to wear, I could transform to be like them. Mirror Mirror, I called it. This was useful to the military, since I had to use it a lot. My ability was the only reason why I was still living while fellow soliders fall dead to the floor before my eyes.

They all started calling me DNA, Levi DNA, since that's what I was to them. I was called that name so many times that to this day I can't remember my own real last name now. That war has made me forget a lot of things.

Strike 2

I try to suppress the memories and nightmares so hard, but at the cost of forgetting anything good before the war. I was robed of the memories of my childhood because of it. Even if I did try to forget, the ones that were the worse always lingered in the back of my mind. All those moments of being in pain and suffering. Everything was starting to become dull around 18.

This was had been going on for so long that I was loosing my reason to keep fighting. As if I ever had a reason to in the first place. I was just doing what I was told. Go spy on these guys, aim for the head, use your ability, back to the battlefield you go. All words that have no importance to me anymore.

I remember one time I was in the medical bay, I had gotten badly injured, but even in that moment I couldn't rest for long. Dr. Ikari, a young man who never got to finish school, had to patch me up. Unfortunately he had to send me right back out to the battlefield a minute after he was done attending me. I could tell by the look in his eyes that we were feeling the same thing. This dullness that we both felt. I barely talked to him, but I could tell that both of our worlds were become gray.

When I was around 19 I thought there was nothing left to look forward to. The war was slowing down but I was already numb. Or so I thought until one day I saw a familiar face. Jumps off the bus was a familiar red head, it was Cooper! For the first moment in a long time I smiled as I saw him. He spotted me and we waved to each other. He still recognized me! I never felt more happy in that moment.

At last we can be like brothers again. Things became less dull, there was some color back into my life. Things were finally looking up. We would sit in the dining hall, eating the worst food, but that didn't matter to me. I got to talk to. My best friend.

Cooper would catch me up on everything that I have missed and I would vent to him about how this war was. His optimism brought up my spirits, which brought me to ease. He barely has changed since I last saw him, my same old buddy. We promised that once this war was over that we would support each other while we fulfilled our dreams. A track star and a baseball player.

Strike 3

That promise didn't stay.

I was robed again.

I could never forget that moment.

We were out in the battlefield, trying to traverse no man's land, our side finally had the upper hand in closing end on the enemy. But we lost many men that day, including Cooper.

He didn't react faster in time. Before I knew it, I was cradling his dying body in my arms, blood dripping from his forehead. Cooper was shot in the head. I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't even fighting anymore. All I did was lay on the battlefield, holding him closer to me. "Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me." I would mumble to myself through tears.

But he left. I believe now that he's resting well with God in heaven.

In that moment I could forgive myself. I couldn't forgive the enemy team. I couldn't forgive our own government for all of this. Things were becoming dull again, but there was this redness starting to boil in the inside of me. This ticking time bomb.

Then it happened.

I had enough.

The day I finally snapped.

I'm out

I regret everything I have done in that span of a week. I was the reason why things got worse. It was little things at first. Ignoring Ross commands, running straight into dangerous territory and slaughtering the enemies, or throwing a grenade at helicopters. Then it got worse, I destroyed many of our own military weapons and transport, with some of our own men still in them. I set some of the base on fire. Gave valuable information to the enemy team. Held hostages of innocent people. Many things.

All these things became documented, published for all the public to see. Soon Levi DNA became a name to hate. I was a danger to everyone around me. That I need to be killed or locked up away forever.

There were two final straws that let to my arrest. The president at the time came over to the base, there for a impossible meeting. He was the reason why I was suffering like this. With all the rage built up in me, I tried to assassinate the president. It took 6 guys to stop me from doing so.

But I wasn't done that day. The worst thing that I have done was use me ability for a murder. I transformed to look like Captain Ross, committing a murder on the previous vice captain at that time, making it look like he was the one who did it. I baseball almost ruined his name and reputation.

He hated me that day since.

There I was, now arrested and locked away in a high prison facility. Ross took the pleasure to torture me in breaking my spirit, in which he did. There was nothing to look forward to anymore. Everything had became gray once again. I felt nothing as I sat in my dark cell, chained to the wall. I didn't deserve good treatment. I didn't deserve kindness or anything good. After all a criminal, a monster, doesn't deserve anything at all.

There was no reason for me to live anymore, and I was ready to accept that.

For a long time in that cell I would be in my own little headspace, daydreaming that I was living a better life with my family and friends. It was my only "joy" left. But even that couldn't be enough.

I was ready to end it all, yet a tiny part of me told me not yet. One more chance. I try to ignore that tiny bit of hope left, but I caved in. I made a promise to myself, that if I could not find a reason to continue on living in a month, then I would end it all.

So I acted. With brute force I broke out of that prison. I snuck onto a boat headed towards Japan. I free myself and upon leaving Nimone to Japan, I did find one major thing to keep me living. The sun and rakn. The sun was so warm and bright, great against my skin and the rain was so calming and cooling.

This was my chance to start again.

Back in the game

Upon arriving to Japan, I ended up in Yoko's city. There I was already lost and confused. I didn't know where to go or where to stay. I didn't know Japanese so asking for help was a impossible.

For my first few weeks there I was a hobo, wandering around, taking food out of trash cans. I found a abandon car to sleep in for the nights, but I barely got sleep. Things weren't looking good again. I desperately needed a job.

But who would hire a criminal?

That's until I stumbled upon this building and this man with probably over 20 children. His name was Mr Fukuzawa. And upon meeting him, my life was never the same again. Things changed, for the good this time. And I was welcomed into a new life with such amazing and kind people. My world had color again.

I'm forever thankful for that day.

Thank you.

[ilivingonmyway]

Something, something, some headcanons about the Ninja team that I have this is in alphabetical order. Part II here!

Cole

• Being the Earth Elemental, he knows several types of rocks, earth and minerals, as each one has a different structure that can interfere and/or contribute to a task/fight.

• Even though he hated dancing for a long time, he still practiced some steps from different dance styles, because some of them were very similar to moves that could be used in battle he did it in secret thought.

• For a long time he always acted a little distant from the other team members, but he was still there to support them if they needed it.

• He's a mama's boy, and he loved seeing Lilly and Lou dancing together.

• It was his grandfather who chose his name. He was bedridden, but he held on until Lilly gave birth to the baby, and when Grandfather saw the little one he cried, because he knew he wouldn't survive to see the child growing up, So, Lilly asked him to name him, as if it were an "I'll always be here" gesture from grandfather to grandson.

• His favorite game is the one where there's a bunch of food falling from the sky and you have to catch it, he's already broken a record 3 times in this game.

Jay

• He's the fastest and most elastic/flexible on the team. This guy's ability to put his thigh behind his head is insane, you DON'T want to be his partner in stretching exercises.

• He knows the Kyusho-Jitsu. This is a technique/type of fight used to stun/paralyze the opponent by striking pressure points (Curiosity, this is the technique that inspired Ty Lee's Chi Blocking technique from ATLA). He uses this on normal criminals, like thieves, assassins, and smuggling gangs, that way they don't get hurt. However, he also use it on Krypytarium criminals, but with the addition of a mild shock to ensure the criminal is rendered unconscious.

• Edna taught him how to cook, so he has the ability to make really good food. Although he prefers to make roasts and stews.

• Jay is a sleepwalker. Not daily, but during really bad lightning storms. Master Wu often found him sleeping on the highest point of the Monastery after the storm. Once, the Ninjas tried to keep him inside the room during the storm. They locked the door and windows and kept watch. But somehow, Jay still managed to get out of the room and get into the storm. No one ever found out how he did this.

• This one I got from Lloyd’s Guide To Surviving The Merge, a lovely fanfiction of @omgjayaaa, I really loved that one He's a medic. He knows how to treat illnesses, injuries, concussions, etc. It started out more as a hobby. Check out medical books from the local library and spend hours reading and applying the teachings on the Monastery's training dummies (sometimes Zane was the victim) just as a "strange diversion" (Kai's words). However, one day, there was a training accident and Cole dislocated his arm, while everyone was worried trying to call the hospital, in an incredible act not to mention strange of calm, Jay grabbed Cole's arm and relocated it back into place, then he borrowed some materials that were in his room and made a sling for the Earth Elemental's arm. No one ever forgot that day, because while Jay was "Just another normal day" the others were staring at him like "What the fuck was that?"

• I also got this from a Ninjago chat fanfic, also from @omgjayaaa He is a natural with children. You can't say otherwise, that this super sensitive and humorous man doesn't have a natural ability to calm/entertain/do anything involving children. And he really enjoys that, being able to make a baby stop crying and go to sleep or helping a child that got lost from the parents. Your honor, this man has everything it takes to be a good father and you're not going to change my mind.

Kai

• He hates super spicy food, being the Fire Elemental doesn't mean his taste buds are pepper/wasabi approved. He just likes a small amount in his food. Ironically, spicy food can kind of serve as fuel for the fire, so the hotter the pepper is, the more heat the fire emanates from it. Although he hates this ability.

• He's not very good at reading/writing, he left school very early to take care of Nya and the Blacksmith, so he lost most of his literacy skills. However, he took some lessons from Wu, so he didn't feel so out of place.

• In fact, his natural hair is like his mother's, but it's as untamable as his father's, which is why he uses so much hair gel. Like, you can't say that wavy and stubborn hair is not hard to care.

• He's that kind of person who sings in the shower, he often forgets that there are people in the Monastery and starts singing so loud that you can hear it from the training yard.

• He and Jay, often in secret, hang out together. Where? Karaoke. Kai sings and Jay plays the guitar, sometimes they change roles Kai prefers to play the bass. It's a lot of fun for both of them, but they don't want to let others find out, because they know none of them, especially Nya, would let it go.

• As much as many people think otherwise, of the RGB siblings, Kai is the most "stable". Not because he wants to, but because he is Nya and Lloyd's support. He feels very embarrassed when the papers change.

• He is super attentive to people close to him, especially Lloyd, who is the youngest on the team. However, now with the addition of Wyldfyre, Sora and Arin in DR, he is as protective as he was with Lloyd.

[jiyansthesis]

PAY ☆ ATTENTION

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

x fem! reader

summary: dragging yourself through an alleyway, you didn't notice the gleam of a metal barrel behind you, or the other pair of eyes looking through a scope, trained on you. maybe if you paid attention, he wouldn't be here taking a bullet out of you.

note: he's taking over my entire tiktok fyp this fanfic is the least i could do. i haven't played the whole campaign and i've mostly watched my mom play, so sorry if there's any crazy mistakes (although this has nearly nothing to do with the actual mw2 campaign) this is gonna be short until i'm comfy enough writing for him. intentionally lowercase.

not proofread + i hate this

☆☆.

you stalked through a dark street, only the moon illuminating your way to the rendezvous point, a safehouse. you tightened your grip on the handle of your rifle, alert for any sounds of being followed.

you had a slight limp, due to someone catching sight of you running away from the scene of majority of his cartel lying dead on the floor. before you could manage to pull your trigger, he shot a bullet that skidded right past your leg, causing you to wince in pain.

the man who shot you fell to the floor, gun clattering to the floor. you scowled at the red starting to slowly spread through your pants and decided that it wasn't bad enough for you to have to treat it at the moment.

"i'll just fix that at the safehouse. i've wasted enough time," you sighed to yourself, turning back around and continuing on your way.

as you left the building, you scanned the area outside in case there were any more cartel members, looking deeply into the shadows that could easily deceive you and cost you your life. if the area wasn't clear, you would be easily identifiable on the way to the alley, almost nothing to cover you and nothing but cars on the street to prevent you from being shot again.

after verifying that the coast was clear, you ran to the alley that you decided was going to be the way you made it to the RV from, since it would be easy to blend in with the cover of the night and was the fastest way to the abandoned house.

of course, that was true. but it was also true for whoever else could possibly be in the narrow road with you.

you hissed occasionally, debating if you should make a makeshift bandage for your leg before continuing on.

"viper, how copy?" ghost's voice crackled, breaking you from your thoughts

"i'm alive," you responded, gripping onto your radio. "son of a bitch shot me in the leg though."

"you got him?"

"of course, Lt."

"atta girl."

a few moments of silence passed, the only sound being your soft footsteps echoing off the walls, and then, something else.

you turned around quickly, gun ready. your eyes shot left and right, waiting for something to come out of the darkness. with your luck, they wouldn't even come out of the black pit and simply just shoot you.

"viper, pay attention." it felt like you could hear him from above, and also from the radio. was he watching over you? you would ask him about that later.

"fucking christ ghost, what the fuck do you me-" you stopped when you saw a dull glimmer from the moonlight hitting something metallic.

before you could react, or even pinpoint where exactly the person was, two shots rang out.

you heard a thump, and felt a sharp pain in your arm.

"fuck!" you yelped, dropping your gun to grip onto your left arm, feeling blood seep through.

"you alright?" you knew that you didn't hear a hint of worry in his voice. you knew he would chastise you when you got back for your late reaction time on now two occasions and how you could've died. he just wants to know you aren't lying dead on the floor.

"yes, sir. i'll get through it. i'm guessing you got them?" your bloody hand made the radio all sticky, and you bit your lip as you ripped a piece of your pants off and wrapped it tightly around your arm.

he ignored your question, or maybe you took your hand off the radio trigger a bit too early. "we're close enough to the RV point, i'll take the bullet out there."

your gaze went up to the sky, squinting to see if ghost was there. after not even hearing a single noise, you continued on your way to the rendezvous, retrieving your gun from the floor.

☆☆.

"miss me, lieutenant?" you limped into the building, grinning.

he had his arms crossed, and you couldn't read the look in his eyes.

"still mad at me? i'm here, in the flesh," you set your gun down against the wall and stalked past him, looking for some bandages and tweezers.

"what was that back there?" he finally spoke in the silence. "if i wasn't there, or if he didn't have such shit aim, what do you think would've happened?"

"good thing you were there," you snapped. "now before you start scolding me like some fucking grandma with her panties in a twist, how about you help me take this cold ass bullet out of me?"

you heard him let out a growl as he came closer to you, and you nearly sunk into the floor with how he towered over you.

the two of you stared at each other, and you narrowed your eyes, standing your ground. if anyone looked at the scene from the outside, they would find the height difference laughable as you craned your neck up to see him. most times, you loved the height difference and would even build your fantasies around how he could easily pick you up, but in times like this you despised his massive build and height.

"alright, sit down," he gruffly said, his expression still unreadable. "don't think i'll forget about this shit you got yourself into."

you frowned and made your way to the chair he gestured towards, taking off your gear and lifting your sleeve up.

he unwrapped your makeshift bandage and examined the wound.

"don't fucking flinch," he brought a lantern closer to the two of you and took the tweezers from your hand.

you shivered at the contact, but ghost seemed to not notice or he paid no attention to it.

you let out a groan of pain as he began retrieving the bullet.

"holy fuck ghost, can't you make it hurt any less?" you said through your teeth.

"what, do you want me to kiss it better? fucking hell viper, did you think me taking the bullet out was going to be all happy and fun?" he kept his attention on the wound.

you shut your mouth, not knowing how to respond. your breath came out harder as you tried not to cry out.

"what if kissing it better will help?" the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

the tweezers paused where they were, and you saw his eyes meet yours for a second before going back to the work at hand.

"for fucks sake, shut your mouth," he shook his head, acting disinterested, and continued. through the pain, you started observing him and the way his muscles tensed and untensed, his focused gaze on getting that bullet out of you, and his mask.

"ever gonna take the mask off?" you questioned.

"weren't you there with soap? the mask doesn't come off." he replied, and you heard a little ding as the bullet fell out.

you let out a sigh of relief, and ghost pulled away, grabbing a needle and some thread. as he turned his back, your eyes quickly shot down and back up before he could realize your attention on certain parts of him.

"how's your leg?" he nodded his head towards the bloodied side of your pants.

"he grazed it a bit." you pulled your pant leg up, slightly whimpering as the rough material slid over the open wound.

"bloody hell viper, that's fucking deep," he sighed. "i'm going to have to stitch this up also."

you frowned. "you sure this needs stitches, Lt? maybe if you put a little band aid on, kissed it, and called it a day, it'll heal," you winked.

"how about you stitch up your own damn self then, twat? you talk to all your superiors like this?"

"nope. you jealous?" you smirked.

"it sounds like you want to stich yourself up and have first watch," he replied as he started stitching you up without warning.

"holy fuck, ghost! a little warning?"

"maybe you should pay more attention to you surroundings. still haven't caught on that you could've died today? twice, apparently." he skillfully closed the tear on your arm, and then moved on to your leg, lifting your thigh up and setting it on a little stool.

"well i sure fucking didn't, did i? i never die on y'all," you were starting to get annoyed of being reprimanded like a little kid.

a shock of pain shot through your leg, but you ignored it through your anger. all he's going to do is constantly talk about this. maybe he's even lost complete trust in you when it comes to being alert and undistracted.

you loved it when he talked to you, having a "little" crush on him for years now, ever since the first time you worked with him, but you knew ghost would never let his work life mix with his love life. but him being pissed off and annoyed with you never felt good.

you looked down again at ghost closing up your laceration. your ears were nearly buzzing at how silent it was, and said,

"ever had a girlfriend?"

ghost hummed, seemingly now unsurprised in your random questions.

"no, i haven't."

"too handsome for them? the girls over there in the uk not good enough for you?" ghost put the last stich in your leg and began cleaning up, getting up from his place where he was crouching, which you noticed with a grin was one of the only times he was shorter than you.

"i don't think about dating. is that why you were so distracted today?" his accented voice made you have goosebumps with how close to your ear he was.

"what if i was distracted by someone?" you got up from the chair, wobbling a little due to the pain and probably even the amount of blood you lost on the way here.

"well, you sure as hell better stop thinking of them by tomorrow," he quickly grabbed your arm to prevent you from falling over, and your face flushed.

"but if they're always around me, how am i supposed to stop thinking about them?"

"so you have a little schoolgirl crush?"

"i wouldn't call it a schoolgirl crush. i've known them for years."

you saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes.

"if you want them so bad that you can't focus in an area with a bunch of threats, maybe you got to fucking get over it or tell them how you feel already. i don't need you making rookie mistakes on your missions."

"so i should confess to them?"

there was a pause before ghost responded, "do i look like a fucking love fairy? do whatever you have to do to start paying attention."

you made your way in front of him, preparing for the rejection of your life. hey, at least that would most definitely stop you from thinking about him all the time.

you looked up through your eyelashes at the built man towering above you.

"i fucking like you, simon."

"what was that?"

your head flung upwards to look at him, his hand gripping onto your chin.

"i said, i fucking like you," your eyebrows furrowed, and your face heated up in embarrassment. you attempted to look anywhere but him, but it was kind of hard when his face was right in front of yours, to the point where you could see every single little scratch and imperfection in his well loved skull mask.

"so i was the one distracting you this whole time?"

"yes! jesus christ, are you gonna kiss me or not?" you decided to let that slip from your mouth, impatient in how he was going to respond.

a hint of amusement danced in his eyes, and he took his hand away from your chin and lifted his mask off just barely to the point where you could see his plump lips, the yellow light from the lantern casting shadows on his face.

he inched closer, all the way to where you could feel his breath on your face and all you could see was his eyes. you licked your lips in anticipation, finally being able to kiss the one person you've wanted to kiss ever since you were a young rookie.

"will this make you pay attention?"

☆☆.

[thephooka]

Happy Webcomic Day! My webcomic White Noise is a labor of love--according to Procreate, this page took me 15.5 hours to complete.* Here's a look into that process!

Some other notes:

The thumbnails are done on graph paper and I script while I do them--there is no separate written script for White Noise. I usually spent a couple hours on weekends as needed thumbnailing, sometimes at a coffee shop or at home listening to records.

I then set up the file in Photoshop, so I can lay in the text and use the template I have with bleeds already set up. The text is rasterized and I shuttle the file over to my iPad via Airdrop.

The bulk of the actual work is done in Procreate, which records timelapses that I sometimes share to my Patreon. I usually spend a couple hours most nights after my day job or on the bus commuting doing this.

Once everything art-wise is done, I shuttle the file back over to my desktop to re-set in the text, add a stroke around the speech bubbles (Procreate doesn't have that took fsr) and do the resizing/exporting for web.

On Sunday mornings I get up, queue the page and write the page descriptions. I don't spend any time on the page descriptions outside of that.

Also, this process goes for the whole first arc of White Noise. I'm done with that arc (which means you can binge the whole thing I'm js!!) and am experimenting with some different methods these days, but my workflow is still generally the same.

*Some more talk about the labor (and burnout) involved below the cut:

This particular page (and most of the pages I did in 2023) took a lot longer than normal because I was heading into a burnout period that I'm still lowkey in/recovering from. It's obvious to me now in retrospect watching the timelapse here and seeing how much noodling I'm doing and how much I'm struggling with the process, but at the time I was just very frustrated generally. When I'm not burned tf out pages take maybe 10 hours max.

2023 was a pretty stressful year--lots of big life changes, uncertainty, pet death, health issues--so it's no wonder it propelled me into burnout, but it just goes to show that even the slowest and steadiest pace is not sustainable forever. I've been doing one page a week following this general process for over a decade! And I stuck to that pace because I knew it was one I could maintain. But even so, by the end of this arc I found myself working more and more slowly, not really looking forward to the work, feeling anxious about being behind, unhappy with the finished work, and extremely annoyed with myself for not being able to give it my all right there at the finish line.

I did stop for a while after the epilogue and took a more or less complete break from drawing for about a month--the longest I have EVER gone without drawing, much less working on White Noise--which did help, but these days my ability to work is...inconsistent. I should probably take another total break, but I'm reluctant. What if my passion never comes back? What if people forget about WN? It's already pretty obscure, and with the general social media collapse, it's harder than ever to get people to read my work. Now that I've left Hiveworks, WN doesn't even get the benefit of being linked to other comics (although objectively very, very few readers actually got referred to my comic that way.) And frankly, I'm also just too proud to go too long without comic updates. I've always told myself, I might not be the best artist or the fastest worker or make a popular comic, but I'm consistent. Difficult to let that go.

This is all to say that webcomics are hard. We do them because we love them, we have stories to tell, we are seized with the human compulsion to create. We spend hours of our time, almost always on top of the paying work that allows us to eat, to make something that we then give away for free. It has consequences on us that the reader doesn't often see, no matter how careful we are about it. If you ask me, webcomics deserve to be valued more.

Happy Webcomic Day! Read webcomics!

[lunarw0rks]

soap bf hcs because that’s my dream man right there

he’d wolf whistle you (consensually) and clap whenever you do something amazing (in his eyes, that’s everything you do. need him). he’d loooove to snuggle into your back. a strong (THIIICK HMMMM) arm keeping you close to his overly warm body and his face digging into the space between your shoulders, the skin there never going long without a kiss or nibble (if he’s trying to see if you’re awake ;)). and that anon who said he liked goofy sex? correct! that is all. oh, and every time he passes you, he’ll give you the quickest peck on whatever he can get (typically your temple or hair) and it is such a normal thing to him that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. i also think he’d appreciate flowers from his partner the most out of the boys. he also celebrates holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, whatever gives him an excuse to shower you in love, the SECOND the clocks strikes midnight. he only has 24 hours to go all out for your birthday and he’s not wasting a second. he also loves brunch and gets way too involved in your friend groups gossip. it is now his friend group. he updates YOU on that girl from work your friend was complaining about (“you would never believe what she said! and then your friend was like whaaaat? i know! who even does that?”) he also loves takeout and shopping as local as possible. all of the small business owners in your town become his best friend just a month after he moves there. you don’t know how he does it. firm believer he’s a passenger princess, but gives you directions (he SWEARS the route you’re taking is the fastest. it never is. probably why he’s always late to everything). finally (sorry for how long this got oh GOD), he mainly watches movies that no one knows and is oblivious to what’s popular (“what’s high school musical? oh, never heard of it”)

I LOVE ALL THESE HEADCANONS!!! ESPECIALLY THE MOVIE ONE ,,,, IT JUST MAKES SENSE

HES A HORNY BITCH BUT HES ALSO JUST SO IN LOVE WITH HIS PARTNER,, YOURE NOT DOING ANYTHINGG WITHOUT FEELING A BIT OF THAT INFATUATION!!

he doesn’t just kiss anything he can reach,— he bites!! will attack your shoulder and chomp just because you decided to walk past him. conseually slapping your ass, too… like it’s a wonder there isn’t a permanent imprint of his palms ;))

and the whistling?? like imagine you get dressed for the day, even if it’s not fancy. but he just has to convey it somehow… might even ‘convince you to stay home with him instead’ *wink wonk*

lowkey a drama queen but you know what. i like him that way. supportive, chaotic, and obsessed with you all in one <3

[letsgetrowdy43]

I want to hear more about Hayden’s birth

Okay, purr, so the second Quinn got on the flight to head to Edmonton for his third last game of the season Honey had her two best friends come over and help her take care of Warren because she knew she would be going into labour soon and wanted to make sure someone was there just in case for not only herself but also Warren.

It was kind of expected, but also she was really shocked and scared when she went into labour, mainly because Quinn wasn’t even in the same province and it was all happening so fast. One moment she was organizing the nursery with her one of best friends as the kids played in the playroom, and all of a sudden she just started getting contractions and then everything got really busy really fast. She called Quinn but he didn’t answer, cause he was on the ice, instead she left a short breathy voicemail and two short messages, and then she headed to the hospital.

She was actually pretty fine health-wise, but she was scared and felt really alone while waiting for Quinn. Even though one of her best friends was in the room she just needed her husband and a promise that he was gonna make it on time. Honey called his brothers and her family a few times to tell them that the baby was on the way and they chatted for a bit but then Quinn finally called her back and disrupted their peaceful phone call.

Quinn on the other hand was in a frenzy trying to get home. The second he read his text after doing his post-game interviews he was panicking trying to figure out the fastest route to get home.

He read the short "I'm in labour. Please come home" and immediately started to freak out that he was going to miss one of the singlehandedly important moments of his life. The second she picks up the phone he's like "Please tell me I didn't miss it" Honey just laughs at his slight panic, "Quinn I've been in labour all of an hour and a half, you have time," she laughs but then the laughs turn into tears, "I do need you to hurry up though, I really need you here," she sniffles into the phone which sends Quinn into an even deeper frenzy.

All the other dads in the locker room get it, but also are like "Act like you've been here before my god??" cause he is so all over the place and he has plenty of time to get home in time. He thankfully made it in time, and Hayden was born just a few short hours later.

Quinn definitely cried when he had his first kid, but there was something about having a little girl that had him really emotional, cause she was the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on. Honey had stayed pretty strong on the crying, but watching him interact with his daughter definitely had her emotional, he just kept whispering short "thank you's" and "she's perfect, you're perfect's" to his wife which had her on the brink of tears.

Honey was literally a god, she had the perfect birth and the nursing staff were literal gems and helped her through all of it.

Hayden kind of looks like a blonde carbon copy of Quinn and it's the cutest thing ever, whereas Warren carries a few of Honey's traits, Hayden is just all Quinn.

Warren got dropped off in the afternoon after everyone had had some time to sleep and the doctors and nurses had finished all of the post-birth routines. He was very excited to see Quinn again, squeals leaving his lips as Quinn retrieved him from Honey's best friend, the two of them hugging at the entrance of the hospital before Quinn told him all about his baby sister.

The little boy was a little skeptical because she was crying when he first walked in the room, but the second she was gently placed in his lap it all changed, he kept saying how much he loved his baby Hayd and how pretty she was as she rested in his arms. This had almost every adult in the room in tears as his little hands traced patterns on his sister's head, her eyes closing as she fell asleep in his lap.

it was definitely hectic, but also so cute, and everyone is just super happy to have a healthy baby and mama!!

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

do you have any yuzuha or izana headcanons? (or both)?

Ok I've got another one asking about Izana so I'll do Yuzuha on this one then when I get to that one it'll be Izana. But for Yuzuha!

Gives the best hugs, she's just super comforting and has a way of making people feel protected and safe.

Tries to bond with people she likes through her hobbies, if she's romantically interested in someone she'll invite them to watch her practice archery (and attempt to put on the best performance of her life).

Speaking of archery, will absolutely try to teach a love interest how to shoot (she just wants an excuse to get close and include them in something she loves).

Loves taking pictures of her friends

She's good at swimming and taught Hakkai to swim.

Frequently babysits Luna and Mana

She likes to relax to music a lot, actually frequently falls asleep with her headphones on.

Offered to get a bike and drive Hakkai around (not to mention learn to drive) when she realised he was constantly riding with Mitsuya. Hakkai quickly said no though.

She also happily shares sweets and any food she brings with others at her school too (one of the reasons she has a fan club).

Gets along well with Senju and Emma in the good timeline.

Enjoys spa days (before she met the girls she used to bring Hakkai with her)

Was extremely unsure of Mitsuya when they first met, took a while to trust him. 

Likes to match clothes with Hakkai (would also do this with a romantic partner)

She's actually super popular among the other models Hakkai works with too, she just has a way of making everyone want to be her friend.

Visits her mother's grave often to ask for advice and give her updates on what's going on, even years later she continues this. Including everytime her and Hakkai come back from business trips.

Likes fluffy animals best, rabbits are her favourite.

Supported Hakkai's dream to become an astronaut, she was the one who gave him that "moon rock"

Likes thunderstorms best, she enjoys watching the rain and lightening.

Also enjoys playing with people's hair, if her lover has long enough hair she'll happily play with it.

Enjoys sneak kisses too, she just likes to see the suprised and embarrassed looks from her partner.

Likes plants but isn't very good at keeping them alive so she has a few fake ones. 

If she has a romantic partner who can cook then she asks them to teach her. But if she's with someone who can't cook then she wants to take classes together or learn together as a bonding activity. 

She's oddly good at climbing, is the fastest of her siblings to get to the top of a tree.

Excellent gift giver, she's good at knowing what people want before even they do. 

Donates to domestic abuse charities as an adult 

She can hold her alcohol very well, Hakkai thinks this is unfair (he's more of a lightweight)

Held Hakkai's hand while he got his ear pierced 

Is really good at ice skating 

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Camellia

Summary: He’d give you everything you ever wanted if you asked for it. He gave you his heart, as you gave him his. And if you asked for the moon, he’d throw a lasso around it and pull it down for you.

Fluff, Angst? (Existential? Worries of Unfaithfulness?), Mafia au, Slightly Suggestive, Established Relationship au

Word Count: 1,563

Minghao (The8) X Reader

[Mentions: Chan and Wonwoo]

Not Requested

Prompt: 8. (Bias) giving you frosted flowers

(Influences: RPS episode from Going SVT, and Highlight/IDUBILY performance from the Follow concert-movie. (Oh, and “It’s a Wonder Life”))

[A/n: Little different then how I usually write- but the china line has done numbers on my brain. But please enjoy anyways. Oh, and a special thanks to @jinkoh for pulling me further down the rabbit hole. Also, it's prompt 8 with the8 hehe~] 

------

As a mafia man, he can get anything he wants, any time he wants it. So, if you wanted the moon, he’d throw a lasso around it and pull it in for you. And when you mentioned in passing that you really enjoyed these frosted flowers that you saw all over your socials. He knew what he had to do. And when he asked you about them, you’d shrug and go, ‘It’s no big deal, they’re probably just fake anyway.’ He’d have his men figure it out.

When he started dating you, he knew you were the one with how you calmed him. You quailed his angry heart, the heart that only ever wanted revenge and to watch the world burn for his childhood. But you, you were like a summer breeze that overtook his mind. You made him realize what it felt like to cool down, and finally start healing that part of himself. And when he had to lend you the reins, he saw just how perfect you were for him.

It was six months into your relationship when he had gotten sick. And he had asked you to oversee his operations. He never told you, but he watched the cameras through his phone to make sure you were safe. Although he knew you were good with a gun and a knife now, he still worried. He smiled as he watched you. At first, his lackeys were iffy. You had just started being his partner, not their boss. So, they were rolling their eyes and the second they stopped talking over you. You turned ruthless, and if he felt better, he’d be doing more than just watching you. And they instantly fell into line, following your every instruction even after he got better. While he has found you attractive from the moment you walked into his life. He fell even harder in love with you the second he saw your capabilities on the field. You were stronger and sweeter than he could have ever imagined. So, whatever you wanted, even if it was small, like a side-off request. He’d get it for you. 

While he was still a ruthless and fast mafia boss, he still took time to be quiet and slow with you. He sees your woes as his own and cares for them kindly. When you’ve had a bad day, he’ll make sure his men take care of it while he takes care of you. You became his number-one priority faster than he could speak. For the fastest-working man in the business and the quickest on his feet, you’d leave him stunned and speechless. Unable to breathe just because you said, ‘Hi’. He prays that you never walk in when he’s interrogating someone, or he’d be dumbstruck and forget his own name. 

And while it wasn’t a request, and it was just something you saw, he asked everyone around his estate. Wondering if they knew any florists who could get him real frosted flowers. Someone who would ensure the flowers live long and prosper even with the frost on them. It took a week before he found the man who could make it happen. Wonwoo, while he was associated with another mafia, Minghao knew he was the only one who could make his lover's dreams come true. So, he did what any sensible man would do, and informed him that he was only there for flowers not for business. And Wonwoo agreed to curate them, even though their relations were tense at the time. After all, that’s why he opened his shop after his mafia had soared to rival Minghao’s. And after a few visits at the floral shop, he got not one but three versions of the same flower. 

One of the gifts was tea he'd make for you after showing you everything he got you. He barked orders to the others as he headed to the base, your guy's home, “You better make sure none of those pesky rats are following us. I know they okayed my flowers, but they better stay the hell away.” Chan immediately went, “Yes, sir, right away, sir.” He stayed behind in his souped-up Lincoln, waiting and checking his mirrors. All was clear as Minghao drove safely to the base. No one dared to follow him except his men as he sped home. When he arrived home, after opening various locks, he walked to his part of the house, his door opening with an eyeball scan. While the others accompanying him, except Chan, went to their parts of the estate. He walked through the door, kicked off his shoes, and ensured you weren’t around before heading to the kitchen, where he found you.

He pouted but quickly shook it off and set the planter and bags aside before coming around the island. You were on alert the second he said, “Baby?” You turned around fast, pointing a buttered knife at him. He moved back, and you quickly apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” He laughs, “It’s okay.” You put it down and said, “You’re home sooner than I expected. Why’s that?” He holds back his smile before moving his hand out from behind his back and showing you a bouquet of frosted camellias. You blink at him, trying not to cry, and yet you still do as you accept them from his hands. “How did you get these?” He smiles, “I pulled a few strings, but it was easy.” You squint, “Nothing bad, right?” He shakes his head immediately, and you happily hug the bouquet to your chest before moving it into one hand and opening your arms for him. 

He happily accepts your affections and wraps his arms around you tightly, “You didn’t have to.” You whisper into his chest, and he laughs, “I wanted to.” You mumble, and he asks you to repeat it. And you ask, “But why?” And he sighs softly, “You want the moon? Just say the word, and I’ll throw a lasso around it.” You move your head up to look him in the eyes, “Hao…” He smiles, “What?” You shake your head and lift your hand to run your fingers through his long hair, “I love you, you softie.” He waits for you to pause your movements before kissing your forehead, “I love you too, baby.” You pull away, untangling your fingers from his hair. When you sniff the flowers, you get a good look at them and realize they’re camellias. “Don’t these mean love, affection, beauty, and refinement?” He hums and says, “Excellence and faithfulness, too.” You look him in the eyes, “Do you mean every word?” He smiles, looking deeply into your eyes, “Every word.” 

It’s always been a silly worry implanted into your head that someone as powerful as him would want loads of lovers. But he only wants you, that he’ll always stay faithful to you. “Positive?” You ask one more time just in case, and he smiles. He grabs your hand and raises it to his lips, “I promise to always remain faithful to you and only you.” Before kissing your hand and continuing, “I vowed it the second I laid eyes on you. You’re the only one for me.” You try not to let your tears fall as he goes, “I got two other things for you.” You whine, “Hao!” And he giggles, “I know. But I want to give you everything I can.” You shake your head at him, and he pulls away, walking around the island. And picks up and puts a large pot on the counter, “There are the same flowers, not frosted, but grown throughout gentle winter conditions.” You nod, and he smiles as you look at them more thoroughly. After you look over the beautiful blooms, he puts the tea box on the counter, “I thought we could have a tea ceremony with it.” You smile, “I’d love to.” 

While he begins prepping for the ceremony, you finish buttering your bread and bring the two slices over. You join him on the ground, just by your balcony door. He pours out the first cup before pouring you a glass and him one. You drink it and take in the warmth and tranquility. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. Maybe tomorrow will be different. But what you both have is right and right now. And that's all you two needed. 

He has you both meditate, and all you can think as you close your eyes is that not every day you have is promised with him. You sigh. Is tomorrow ever really promised to anyone? No. And while he may have a dangerous living. As long as he was precautious, as he always is, he'd be okay. And he'd always return to your arms. And if the beautiful queens of winter, the camellia flowers, can survive the winter. So could the two of you. When you finally open your eyes, you see him contentedly staring at you, “What?”  He grins, “You look so beautiful.”  “Hao!”  He giggles, “I love catching you off guard.” “Whatever you say, my handsome prince.”  He blushes at that, and you can't help but smirk. It would be okay. Because if one of you needed anything or wanted something. Whether it was from the smallest of things to the largest of problems, you'd have each other's back.

[mintartem]

hey, hey! Me again. The one who cursed you for blessing me with two new ships lol

Anywho, since you mentioned it, art of Adam x the other angels? Raphael, Gabriel, Azriel, Sariel, all of 'em!

Would love to see art/ designs, but I can settle for hcs lol

I was going to make this into art but I’ve been busy. I hope you don’t mind headcanons and my portrayal of them instead. (I will draw them and ship them with Adam eventually)

I can’t write ALL of the angels (there’s like 50+ of them and that’s not including the fallen) I’m going to focus on the 7 heavenly virtues first (excluding Michael so 6 of the 7).

Please note all of these are for the Hazbin Hotel fandom and not an actual Bible lore or theology. Although some info here are based on theology.

Gabriel (Seraph) - Diligence

He is an energetic, loud, bubbly, and trustworthy angel who is loved and respected by all. But he is scary when he is angry or pissed off

It’s not easy to piss him off but if you did, it means you’ve done something absolutely horrendous in his eyes

He enjoys watching souls get their deserved justice or punishment

Since his heavenly virtue is diligence, he is the fastest angel to finish his work. But at the same time, he also has a lot on his plate. He values breaks in-between working.

Flirts with Adam and loves to get in his personal space (Adam doesn’t mind and lets him)

He trusts Michael the most

The only beings he follows/listens to are Michael and God

He wonders why he was chosen to be God’s right hand when the position should be Michael’s (in his eyes)

He enjoys his job of delivering messages

Has the best stamina and endurance among the angels

He has a sweet tooth

Like all other angels, he is proficient in playing multiple instruments. But his most favorite instrument to play is the trumpet.

The third brother

He [will be] against Charlie’s plan of redemption

Raphael (Seraph) - Humility

He is a calm, collected, and gentle angel who wants the best for everyone and heal them as much as he can.

He wouldn’t hesitate to scare off souls with medical threats if it means it’ll help them heal

He is a pacifist

As the heavenly virtue of humility, despite his high position and rank, he doesn’t see himself better than others and chose to ground himself (which is confusing for other angels)

As the angel of healing, he heals not just physical pain, but also emotional, mental, spiritual, etc. health.

When it comes for mental health, he does need a winner’s help since he is an angel and can’t understand human thought process that well

Surprisingly, he prefers spicy food

Like all other angels, he is proficient in playing multiple instruments. His most favorite instrument is the lyre.

He [will not be] against Charlie’s plan for redemption, but wouldn’t support it either.

The youngest among the four brothers

The tallest among the brothers

He and Gabriel tease Michael because of his crush on Adam

Also in love with Adam and loves watching Adam tend to his garden

He loves herbs, poisons, and other medical things (that includes snakes)

He is fascinated by human biology and anatomy. Adam is the usual target of this fascination

Has a doctor’s (terrible) handwriting

He is the most mature out of all the brothers

Has a sadistic side

Leader of the virtues

Azrael (Archangel) - Patience

When Adam met him in Eden, the impression he got from him was that he is a shy and quiet angel.

Azrael is a flirty and playful, but kind angel that enjoys the company of his fellow archangels

He loves the nature noises (such as chirping birds, cricket noises, swaying leaves)

He is mostly remembered for his wings. Angels and winners alike describe his wings as “so black that it’s like darkness itself created a solid form to serve as his wings”

He is respected even by the Seraphim for his duty

Originally, Samael was the angel of death. The title was given to Michael, who then gave it to Azrael

He is most known for taking the souls of “The Death of the First Born” plague in Egypt. He does not like being known for it though.

He created the Grim Reapers to help him with his duties.

He once offered Abel to be his first Grim Reaper. Abel declined.

Platonically flirts with Abel. Cain does not like it (he thinks its romantic)

Romantically flirts with Adam. Cain also does not like it

Cain does not like him in general. Azrael think its because Abel sees him as an older brother. (He’s right)

Despite being younger than Michael, Lucifer, and Gabriel, they see him as an older brother figure

The only angel who is allowed to enter Hell and Heaven without permission, paperworks, etc. (This is because some depictions portray him as the one who leads souls to heaven or hell)

Doesn’t care about Charlie’s plan for redemption.

The elders are wary of him

He kept Abel’s soul until Adam died and went to heaven.

He is the one Adam first saw when he died so, like Abel, Adam has an attachment to him

Uriel (Seraph) - Chastity

He is a quiet, serious, scholarly angel with an aloof and unreadable expression.

Contrary to his serious appearance, Uriel enjoys teaching angels and winners.

He is loved by his students. Outlookers would wonder why, but his students know what type of angel he really is

He loves dark chocolates. His students are the only ones who know. He receives a lot of dark chocolate every Teacher’s Day

He tends to question anything and everything for knowledge’s sake

[will] support Charlie if she can defend her redemption project (like a research/thesis defence)

He witness Adam’s creation and grew attached to him

He guarded Eden’s gate with a flaming sword. Currently, he hid away his flaming sword only to be used if Lucifer or anything evil decides to attack Heaven

He was Adam’s teacher when he got to Heaven. Uriel taught him about Heaven, heavenly duties etc.

He doesn’t hate Lucifer per say, but he is extremely disappointed.

He enjoyed watching humanity (especially Adam) discover things. Currently, his focus are now the winners, angels, and heaven borns

He enjoys reading about human philosophers and their philosophies (both east and west)

Loves playing chess against Adam

He is the one who provides strategies to Michael and is the one who helps plan training activities

“My house is not a mess. It’s an organised chaos”

He has his moments where angels cannot tell if he is being smart or lazy.

He is great at multi-tasking

On purposely uses scientific terms to annoy Gabriel and Lucifer. He does know how to “dumb it down a notch” according to Lucifer.

Cannot be wavered once he is focus on something/s

Cassiel (Archangel) - Temperance

He is an empathic, sensitive angel who wants to enjoy Heavenly life with his fellow angels, heaven-born, and winners

When Eden was created, he wanted to visit but he was forbidden to do so. Unlike Lucifer, he controlled himself and decided not to do so

He is the fastest angel

He helps Raphael in healing Adam’s emotional health

He has a pet dragon. The dragon likes Adam

He [would be] conflicted in Charlie’s redemption plan

Like all other angels, he is proficient in playing multiple instruments. His favorite instrument is the harp

Remiel/Jeremiel (Archangel) - Kindness

He is a kind, caring, and understanding angel who wishes the best for everyone

As the archangel of hope, Remiel tends to see the best in everyone. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see the bad things either

He is an optimist

He is that one angel everyone goes to for comfort

He is usually the voice of reason

Like Cassiel, he also helps Adam in healing his emotional pain

Like all other angels, he is proficient in playing multiple instruments. His favorite instrument is the grand piano

[will] support Charlie’s redemption plan

“Please don’t mistake me as the fallen Ramiel. We’re different”

(I struggled with coming up hc for Remiel and Cassiel)

Bonus - Angels I want to create a character for:

Ariel (Archangel) - self proclaimed “Michael’s girl best friend!” Totally supports Michael and Adam’s relationship. Angry at Lucifer

Jophiel (Archangel) - sees Adam as the most beautiful creation. She hangs with Metatron often. Adam has deep respect for her.

Metatron (Archangel) - Human name: Enoch.

Chazaqiel (Watcher - Fallen) - Sahaquiel’s younger sister

Raguel (Archangel)

Selaphiel/Selathiel (Archangel)

Well this is long so I’ll end it here. I enjoy reading about Theology so this was really fun!

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

Hey! For your Miles requests, I'd love to read about what it might be like for the reader to watch Miles transfer to Visions if they both went to Brooklyn Middle together.

Not This Time

Miles Morales x fem!reader

Miles Morales x black!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

Requested: yes

A/N: GUYS PARTICIPATE IN MY 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL PLEASE also hope you guys enjoy electro because I had to make something up.

300 Follower Special <3

Masterlist

“You’re not gonna forget me right?” You wondered. 

It was the last week of summer and you were clinging to the last few days you had left with Miles. Sitting on his building’s rooftop you stared down at the Brooklyn you’ve known your whole life. You and Miles were the fastest of friends since your first day at Brooklyn Middle you genuinely couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day. You were still proud of him, however. Getting into Visions was a pretty big deal. 

“Why would you ask me that?” He glanced at you offended. 

You simply shrugged, pulling your knees up to your chest. “I dunno, you’ll go and make new friends and I won’t be so important anymore,” 

“No,” He shook his head, turning to face you. “That would never happen,” 

You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact. 

 “I’d never forget you,” He promised. 

The first week of freshman year was finally over. It wasn’t as bad as your middle school teachers tried to make it seem, you’d made a couple of new friends, and none of your teachers were mean.

Realizing you hadn’t spoken to Miles yet today you pulled your phone out to message him. 

you: how was your first week? 

miles: my science teacher was on my ass but my roommates not bad

miles: he doesn’t talk much 

you: i told you, you’d be fine

you: wanna go the end show w/me tonight in golconda

you: it’s at 7 

miles: im sorry I cant :( too much hw 

you: oh no don’t worry maybe next time

Putting your phone back down on your desk with a huff you tried not to feel disappointed. There would be other opportunities to hang out. It’s not like this was the end of your friendship. 

The excuses and cancellations only grew in numbers. Soon you’d gone from seeing Miles every day to barely holding a virtual conversation once a week. 

You weren’t going to sit around and wait for the crumbs of attention Miles was willing to give you. This would not be a one-sided relationship, you had too much self-respect for that. 

But just because you weren’t actively talking doesn’t mean you didn’t care. You’d just care from afar. 

—————-

You weren’t one to watch the news but the TV was open to Channel 12 when you made it home from running errands. Placing your grocery bags on the couch something compelled you to tune in. 

Seeing PDNY cars surrounding a crazed man wielding what looked to be lightning bolts sent you into a state of controlled panic. You practically sped to Miles’s apartment to check on Mr. Morales. 

He wasn’t there when you got to the apartment but Rio informed you he was okay and she’d just spoken to him on the phone.  

Letting out a sigh of relief you relaxed your shoulders. Slumping to sit down next to her on the couch she gave you a once-over 

“You’ve grown so much since I last saw you. How’s high school?” She asked, now getting a better look at you. 

“It’s definitely different,”

“We’ve missed you around here, Miles has been acting so different lately, he’s not my little boy anymore,” She sighed wistfully. 

“I miss you guys too,” You pouted.

 You didn’t want to get emotional but you really did miss your second family. And you weren’t trying to take it personally but Miles avoiding you truly hurt. “It’s so weird not seeing Miles anymore,” 

“Seeing him a couple times a week must be very different from every day,”

A couple times a week? You hadn’t seen him at all this month. Even if you were pissed at him you didn’t want him in trouble so you just agreed. 

“Yeah, I’m still not used to it.” 

You weren’t leaving until you saw for yourself that Mr. Morales was okay. Your stubbornness and unwillingness to take things as you’re told kept you from being able to fully believe Mrs. Morales’s promise of her husband’s safety. Anything could’ve happened between their phone call and now. 

Waiting on the couch listening to Mrs. Morales talk about work and her conniving coworkers. You felt the most at peace as you’ve had in a while. 

The peace didn’t last long as Miles came bursting through the front door adorning his red and black jacket with oversized sweats and his backpack slung over his shoulder. Mrs. Morales immediately stood up and moved towards him, the picture of concern. 

“Mijo, what’s wrong, what are you doing here it’s a school night?” 

Instead of answering her he just threw himself into her arms and wilted into her chest. 

From your place on the couch, you couldn’t hear the muffled conversation or anything at all, which only amplified your worry. 

“What happened? What’s wrong?” You found yourself calling out standing from your spot on the sofa. 

The sound of your voice snapped him out of his reprieve. Miles pulled his head from the crook of his mother's neck. He let his eyes roam over you attempting to assess if you were real or not. 

Once he decided his eyes weren’t deceiving him he practically launched himself into your arms. 

You stumbled back with the force of his weight and despite your anger and confusion, you hugged him back. 

Evidently, something was wrong but he wasn’t going to talk about it anytime soon. You tried to hold out and let him feel his emotions but- 

“Miles,” You wheezed out into his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you the slightest bit but didn’t let you go. 

“Sorry,” He muttered to the top of your head. “Missed you so much,” 

“Missed you too,” 

As much as you loved Mrs. Morales, she was a chismosa and every conversation was not for her ears. 

“Let’s go outside,” You suggested grabbing his arm to pull you with him. 

You hadn’t made the climb to the water tower in a while and you weren’t as fit as you were a month ago. Trying to hide it out of embarrassment you switched the topic. 

“You cold?” You asked panting as you found your footing. 

“What?” He questioned looking down at himself.

 As if he just discovered the zip-up he was wearing he answered. “Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s really chilly out here,” 

Even without the years of knowing Miles under your belt, you would’ve known he was lying but you didn’t feel like starting an argument the first time you saw him in a while so you just dropped it. 

The two of you easily fell back into the swing of things as if there were never any distance between the two of you. You were glad to be talking again, now knowing his issue wasn’t due to anything you’d done. 

He was catching you up on everything you’d missed in his life when he went ghost on you, but he still wasn’t hinting at what was bothering him. He was using you as an alibi and not even telling you, it was so unlike him. 

Even his mom noticed a change in his behavior so why wouldn’t he just talk to you? You had to bring it up or you’d regret it once you’d gotten home. 

“You know you can tell me anything right?” 

He hummed in acknowledgment.

 You should be furious he’d ghosted you for so long. And now he won’t even talk to you? but looking at him now he looked so upset and broken you couldn’t feel anything besides concern. 

“Miles please, tell me what’s going on,” You begged. “We tell each other everything,” It was true you even told him when you had started your first period the summer before 7th grade. You never felt the need to hide anything from each other. So why start now? What happened between the start of high school to now to make him stop trusting you? 

“Is it me? Can you just not tell me?” You attempted to rationalize his behavior. 

“It’s not you,” He promised. 

“So then talk to me please,” You whined. 

“I can’t tell you. Not this time,” 

The last person to learn he was Spider-Man died. In the same month, he watched Spider-Man and his uncle die in right front of him. All his other friends left him and maybe it was selfish but you were the only one he had left. He refused to lose you or have you look at him differently. Maybe telling you would lift some of the burden of having a secret identity as just a child, but he couldn’t risk it. Not this time. Not with you.

©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom