#i have so many questions and nobody to direct them to

[scentedpeachlandcreator]

A deep dive into the subconscious mind :

Okay so I’ll be just explaining what I’ve read from the Book “The Power of the Subconscious Mind” by Joseph Murphy, this Book was Amazing, it had many success stories of people and many more.

If you want to read the whole thing of this book in the form of a PDF, well you will get it on this site.

The chapter of this post:

1. What is the subconscious mind?

2. What is the difference between the subconscious mind & the conscious mind?

3. How does the subconscious mind work?

4. What is the relation between the subconscious mind & the Law of assumption?

5. Success stories from the Book.

6. Answering some questions you might have.

Ⅰ. What is the subconscious mind?

The subconscious mind is the part of the brain that controls the aspect of your life 95% of the time. It's the most responsible part of your mind that controls your body, organs, heartbeat, and many more.

The subconscious mind isn’t logical, it’s completely blind and it doesn't argue, it just follows what you tell it to, what you believe so, it stores so many memories and information, and even the most bad ones that are stored deep beneath the mind.

“Your subconscious mind is like a huge memory bank. It permanently stores everything that ever happens to you, and its capacity is virtually unlimited.

By the time you reach the age of 21, you’ve already permanently stored more than one hundred times the contents of the entire Encyclopedia Britannica.

Under hypnosis, people can often remember, with perfect clarity, past events that happened many years before” from this site.

Ⅱ. What is the difference between the subconscious mind & the conscious mind?

The two-part of the brain have a Big difference between them, but they work in harmony — the conscious mind is what you are aware of, it is logical and rational, and with it you make decisions, solve, and think, and on the contrary of the subconscious mind which is illogical and irrational, it relies on the conscious mind, it does what you tell it to, let say the subconscious mind is like a servant working for a royal family, it just does what it tells it to, doesn’t argue, doesn’t have eyes, just obeys and start working, on the other hand, the conscious mind can be compared to the chief servant, overseeing and directing the actions of the subconscious mind and other faculties, the conscious mind’s role is to guide and protect the subconscious mind from harm.

Ⅲ. how does the subconscious mind work?

the subconscious works 24/7 it does not stop working, it’s responsible for your body's operation, it does not rest, it just keeps working until you die, it does work in mysterious ways, and nobody knows how, but it’s surely smart, it possesses an incredible intelligence, wisdom and many more than you can imagine.

an example by Joseph Murphy of how the subconscious mind works:

“You will perceive the main differences by the following illustrations: The conscious mind is like the navigator or captain at the bridge of a ship.

He directs the ship and signals orders to men in the engine room, who in turn control all the boilers, instruments, gauges, etc. The men in the engine room do not know where they are going; they follow orders. They would go on the rocks if the man on the bridge issued faulty or wrong instructions based on his findings with the compass, sextant, or other instruments. The men in the engine room obey him be-cause he is in charge and issues orders, which are automatically obeyed. Members of the crew do not talk back to the captain; they simply carry out orders.

The captain is the master of his ship, and his decrees are carried out. Likewise, your conscious mind is the captain and the master of your ship, which represents your body, environ-ment, and all your affairs. Your subconscious mind takes the orders you give it based upon what your conscious mind believes and accepts as true. When you repeatedly say to people, “I can’t afford it,” then your subconscious mind takes you at your word and sees to it that you will not be in a position to purchase what you want. As long as you persist in saying, “I can’t afford that car, that trip to Europe, that home, that fur coat or ermine wrap,” you can rest assured that your subconscious mind will follow your or-ders, and you will go through life experiencing the lack of all these things”.

“Your subconscious mind accepts what is impressed upon it or what you consciously believe. It does not reason things out like your conscious mind, and it does not argue with you contro-versially. Your subconscious mind is like the soil, which accepts any kind of seed, good or bad. Your thoughts are active and might be likened unto seeds. Negative, destructive thoughts continue to work negatively in your subconscious mind, and in due time will come forth into outer experience which corresponds with them.

Remember, your subconscious mind does not engage in proving whether your thoughts are good or bad, true or false, but it responds according to the nature of your thoughts or suggestions. For example, if you consciously assume something as true, even though it may be false, your subconscious mind will accept it as true and proceed to bring about results, which must neces-sarily follow, because you consciously assumed it to be true” by Joseph Murphy.

Ⅳ. what’s the relation between the subconscious mind & the Law of Assumption?

this is the most interesting part – the subconscious mind is the one responsible for bringing your manifestation/desire to fruition, BUT that requires you to change your mindset from “I can’t do this, I don’t deserve this, how am i supposed to have it” to “i can do this, I’m successful, I deserve my desires, I already have it”.

if you affirm that you won’t succeed then guess what? yeah duh you won’t, why? because you assumed so, you believed it, accepted it, then the subconscious mind started working on it, and it showed up in the 3d.

assumptions = reality.

Let me make you understand with an example:

let’s say you have an upcoming exam and you want to manifest good grades, so you study for the exam and affirm that you’ll have good grades.

you pass the exam and you wait for the results, when the teacher gives you your papers you see that you didn’t have a good grade, and your stupid self starts telling yourself “i knew it won’t work”, “i guess the law doesn’t work”, “why it didn’t work?” that THE BIGGEST STUPIDIEST MISTAKE YOU EVER MADE, don’t you understand that while you're saying this to yourself your subconscious is also listening? your subconscious doesn’t have eyes, it does not know what’s happening in the 3d.

so instead of seeing your bad grades on the paper and you start doubting yourself, take a deep breath and remind yourself of your power, and flip your thought against what your 3d is showing you saying “oh yeah i’m so happy! i did amazing this time on my exam! my parents are gonna be so proud of me!” that what persisting is, you continue being faithful and loyal to your assumption no matter what the 3d throw at you.

Ⅴ. success stories from the book:

number one:

• How he made his dream come true:

A movie actor told me that he had very little education, but he had a dream as a boy of becoming a successful movie actor. Out in the field mowing hay, driving the cows home, or even when milking them he said, “I would constantly imagine I saw my name in big lights at a large theatre. I kept this up for years until finally I ran away from home. I got extra jobs in the motion-picture field, and the day finally came when I saw my name in great, big lights as I did when I was a boy!” Then he added, “I know the power of sustained imagination to bring success.”

number two:

Last Christmas Eve a beautiful young university student looked at an attractive and rather expensive traveling bag in a store window. She was going home to Buffalo, New York, for the holidays. She was about to say, “I can’t afford that bag,” when she recalled something she had heard at one of my lec-tures which was, “Never finish a negative statement; reverse it immediately, and wonders will happen in your life.”

She said, “That bag is mine. It is for sale. I accept it men-tally, and my subconscious sees to it that I receive it.”

At eight o’clock Christmas Eve her fiancé presented her with a bag exactly the same as the one she had looked at and mentally identified herself with at ten o’clock the same morning. She had filled her mind with the thought of expectancy and released the whole thing to her deeper mind, which has the “know-how” of accomplishment.

This young girl, a student at the University of Southern California, said to me, “I didn’t have the money to buy that bag, but now I know where to find money and all the things I need, and that is in the treasure house of eternity within me.”

number three:

• How she restored her memory:

A woman, aged seventy-five, was in the habit of saying to herself, “I am losing my memory.” She reversed the procedure and practiced induced autosuggestion several times a day as follows: “My memory from today on is improving in every department. I shall always remember whatever I need to know at every moment of time and point of space. The impressions received will be clearer and more definite. I shall retain them automatically and with ease. Whatever I wish to recall will im-mediately present itself in the correct form in my mind. I am improving rapidly every day, and very soon my memory will be better than it has ever been before.” At the end of three weeks, her memory was back to normal, and she was delighted.

number four:

• How faith in your subconscious powers makes you whole:

A young man, who came to my lectures on the healing power of the subconscious mind, had severe eye trouble, which his doctor said necessitated an operation. He said to himself, “My subconscious made my eyes, and it can heal me.” Each night, as he went to sleep, he entered into a drowsy, meditative state, the condition akin to sleep. His attention was immobilized and focused on the eye doctor. He imagined the doctor was in front of him, and he plainly heard, or imagined he heard, the doctor saying to him, “A miracle has happened!” He heard this over and over again every night for perhaps five minutes or so before going to sleep. At the end of three weeks he again went to the ophthalmologist who had previously examined his eyes, and the physician said to this man, “This is a miracle!” What happened? This man impressed his subconscious mind using the doctor as an instrument or a means of convincing it or conveying the idea.

Through repetition, faith, and expect-ancy he impregnated his subconscious mind. His subconscious mind made his eye; within it was the perfect pattern, and imme-diately it proceeded to heal the eye. This is another example of how faith in the healing power of your subconscious can make you whole.

number five:

• His dream pharmacy became a reality:

Thirty years ago I knew a young pharmacist who was re-ceiving forty dollars a week plus commission on sales. “After twenty-five years,” he said to me, “I will get a pension and re-tire.”

I said to this young man, “Why don’t you own your own store? Get out of this place. Raise your sights! Have a dream for your children. Maybe your son wants to be a doctor; perhaps your daughter desires to be a great musician.”

His answer was that he had no money! He began to awaken to the fact that whatever he could conceive as true, he could give conception.

The first step toward his goal was his awakening to the powers of his subconscious mind, which I briefly elaborated on for his benefit. His second step was his realization that if he could succeed in conveying an idea to his subconscious mind, the latter would somehow bring it to pass.

He began to imagine that he was in his own store. He mentally arranged the bottles, dispensed prescriptions, and imagined several clerks in the store waiting on customers. He also visualized a big bank balance. Mentally he worked in that imaginary store. Like a good actor he lived the role. Act as though I am, and I will be. This pharmacist put himself whole-heartedly into the act, living, moving, and acting on the assump-tion that he owned the store.

The sequel was interesting. He was discharged from his position. He found new employment with a large chain store, became manager, and later on, district manager. He saved enough money in four years to provide a down payment on a drugstore of his own. He called it his “Dream Pharmacy.”

“It was,” he said, “exactly the store I saw in my imagina-tion.” He became a recognized success in his chosen field, and was happy doing what he loved to do.

Number six:

• Boy of sixteen years turns failure into success:

A young boy who was attending high school said to me, “I am getting very poor grades. My memory is failing. I do not know what is the matter.” I discovered that the only thing wrong with this boy was his attitude, which was one of indifference and resentment toward some of his teachers and fellow students. I taught him how to use his subconscious mind, and how to succeed in his studies.

He began to affirm certain truths several times a day particularly at night prior to sleep, and also in the morning after awakening. These are the best times to impregnate the subconscious mind.

He affirmed as follows: “I realize that my subconscious mind is a storehouse of memory. It retains everything I read and hear from my teachers. I have a perfect memory, and the infinite intelligence in my subconscious mind constantly reveals to me everything I need to know at all my examinations, whether written or oral. I radiate love and good will to all my teachers and fellow students. I sincerely wish for them success and all good things.”

This young man is now enjoying a greater freedom than he has ever known. He is now receiving all “A’s.” He constantly imagines the teachers and his mother congratulating him on his success in his studies.

Number seven:

• Scientists Use the Subconscious Mind:

Many scientists realize the true importance of the sub-conscious mind. Edison, Marconi, Kettering, Poincarè, Ein-stein, and many others have used the subconscious mind. It has given them the insight and the “know-how” for all their great achievements in modern science and industry. Research has shown that the ability to bring into action the subconscious power has determined the success of all the great scientific and research workers.

An instance of how a famous chemist, Friedrich von Stradonitz, used his subconscious mind to solve his problem is as follows: He had been working laboriously for a long time trying to rearrange the six carbon and the six hydrogen atoms of the benzine formula, and he was constantly perplexed and unable to solve the matter. Tired and exhausted, he turned the request over completely to his subconscious mind. Shortly after-ward, as he was about to board a London bus, his subconscious presented his conscious mind with a sudden flash of a snake biting its own tail and turning around like a pin wheel. This answer, from his subconscious mind, gave him the longsought answer of the circular rearrangement of the atoms that is known as the benzine ring.

Number eight:

• How a distinguished scientist brought forth his inventions:

Nikola Tesla was a brilliant electrical scientist who brought forth the most amazing innovations. When an idea for a new invention came into his mind, he would build it up in his imagina-tion, knowing that his subconscious mind would reconstruct and reveal to his conscious mind all the parts needed for its manufacture in concrete form. Through quietly contemplating every possible improvement, he spent no time in correcting defects, and was able to give the technicians the perfect product of his mind. He said, “Invariably, my device works as I imagined it should. In twenty years there has not been a single exception.

Number nine:

• How a famous scientist and physicist escaped from a Russian concentration camp:

Dr. Lothar von Blenk-Schmidt, a member of the Rocket Society and an outstanding research electronic engineer, gives the following condensed summary of how he used his subcon-scious mind to free himself from certain death at the hands of brutal guards in a Russian prison camp coal mine. He states as follows:

“I was a prisoner of war in a coal mine in Russia, and I saw men dying all around me in that prison compound. We were watched over by brutal guards, arrogant officers, and sharp, fast-thinking commissars. After a short medical checkup, a quota of coal was assigned to each person. My quota was three hundred pounds per day.

In case any man did not fill his quota, his small food ration was cut down, and in a short time he was resting in the cemetery.

“I started concentrating on my escape. I knew that my subconscious mind would somehow find a way. My home in Germany was destroyed, my family wiped out; all my friends and former associates were either killed in the war or were in concentration camps.

“I said to my subconscious mind, ‘I want to go to Los Angeles, and you will find the way.’ I had seen pictures of Los Angeles and I remembered some of the boulevards very well as well as some of the buildings.

“Every day and night I would imagine I was walking down Wilshire Boulevard with an American girl whom I met in Berlin prior to the war (she is now my wife). In my imagina-tion we would visit the stores, ride buses, and eat in the restau-rants. Every night I made it a special point to drive my imaginary American automobile up and down the boulevards of Los Angeles. I made all this vivid and real. These pictures in my mind were as real and as natural to me as one of the trees out-side the prison camp.

“Every morning the chief guard would count the prisoners as they were lined up. He would call out ‘one, two, three,’ etc., and when seventeen was called out, which was my number in sequence, I stepped aside. In the meantime, the guard was called away for a minute or so, and on his return he started by mistake on the next man as number seventeen. When the crew returned in the evening, the number of men was the same, and I was not missed, and the discovery would take a long time.

“I walked out of the camp undetected and kept walking for twentyfour hours, resting in a deserted town the next day. I was able to live by fishing and killing some wild life. I found coal trains going to Poland and traveled on them by night, until finally I reached Poland. With the help of friends, I made my way to Lucerne, Switzerland. “One evening at the Palace Hotel, Lucerne, I had a talk with a man and his wife from the United States of America. This man asked me if I would care to be a guest at his home in Santa Monica, California. I accepted, and when I arrived in Los Angeles, I found that their chauffeur drove me along Wilshire Boulevard and many other boulevards, which I had imagined, so vividly in the long months in the Russian coalmines. I recognized the buildings, which I had seen in my mind so often. It actually seemed as if I had been in Los Angeles before. I had reached my goal.

“I will never cease to marvel at the wonders of the sub-conscious mind. Truly, it has ways we know not of.”

Number ten:

• How archaeologists and paleontologists reconstruct ancient scenes :

These scientists know that their subconscious mind has a memory of everything that has ever transpired. As they study the ancient ruins and fossils, through their imaginative percep-tion, their subconscious mind aids them in reconstructing the ancient scenes. The dead past becomes alive and audible once more. Looking at these ancient temples and studying the pottery, statuary, tools, and household utensils of these ancient times, the scientist tells us of an age when there was no language. Communication was done by grunts, groans, and signs.

The keen concentration and disciplined imagination of the scientist awakens the latent powers of his subconscious mind enabling him to clothe the ancient temples with roofs, and surround them with gardens, pools, and fountains. The fossil remains are clothed with eyes, sinews, and muscles, and they again walk and talk. The past becomes the living present, and we find that in mind there is no time or space. Through disci-plined, controlled, and directed imagination,you can be a companion of the most scientific and inspired thinkers of all time.

Ⅵ. Answering some questions you might have:

Can i command my subconscious mind to induce me into the void state Aka "pure consciousness" ?

Yes you Can! You Can even tell it to bring you your desires, just Say "subconscious mind, i command you to induce me into my pure consciousness instead of sleeping".

I want to manifest my desire but i don't know how it will happen?

Don't worry, your subconscious will find any way to bring your desires, just relax and trust it.

Can i use my subconscious to bring me Ideas in writing/drawing/crafting?

Yes! Just tell it to, it may Come to you in a dream or in a flash of an idea.

Can i command my subconscious to make me successful or achieve something?

Yes you Can! You Can literally make your subconscious do anything you want, even bringing your desires.

Do i need to script or write in details what i want?

Well if you want to script in details because you want to, then feel free to do it! But you really don't need to, cause you're subconscious is smart and it is literally you so it knows what you want even when you don't mention it.

Do i need to list every single desire when i am in my pure consciousness?

No lol, you Can just visualize or just Say "i already have my dream life" or "i have my desired list".

Can i recall past memories that i don't remember?

Yes you Can, just tell your subconscious to make you remember them.

Do i really need to reprogramme my subconscious to shift or induce my pure awareness?

Well..i don't think so, that my belief, but it's not necessary, cause i think this is just a limiting belief and it's not true, it's all based on your assumptions, you don't need to reprogramme it, your subconscious is more than smart, it's incredible that it is the only part of the human that the scientist can't figured it out.

Things to remember:

Your subconscious mind is like a powerhouse, it restores many memories, informations, and many more.

Your subconscious mind is sooo smart and has an Infinite intelligence that you're not aware of.

Your subconscious mind start working on bringing your desires the moment you want it or affirm for it.

Your subconscious is blind, it just rely on you (it doesn't know what happening in the 3d).

You Can get answers to your problems through your subconscious mind.

Want Ideas? Don't know what to write for your novel or story? Don't know what to paint/draw? Just Ask your subconscious and it will surely give you the answer.

Want to meet your dream partner? Owning 3 mansion? Just affirm and persist and your subconscious will find a way to bring you your desires.

You Can recall past memories, Dreams, or your shifting experience by just asking your subconscious to make you remember them.

Final note: anyway, i Hope this post was hopeful for you all, the Book opened my eyes, i learned ALOT, and it was very helpful, the subconscious mind does work in mysterious ways and it is just incredible, and i Hope i cleared some limiting beliefs you had about the subconscious mind, i really recommend Reading the Book or the pdf, you will thank me later 😉.

Xoxo, Eli

[wolfflowers]

Not wanting to add to the prev post, but I would like to know more about dreams and what they mean to people around the world without them being disrespected. How do they know what they mean? How do they know when it's from someone? How do they know it's a message and not just a story being explored?

Mine are so vivid and story-like and make me feel so much, but I have nothing to go from in what they could mean or be telling me.

When are they messages from myself or others? When are they warnings or suggestions? When are they just stories? And who could be trying to contact or help me when I don't know any names or spiritualities? How do I find any information when I've got nothing to go off from?

[nicoliine]

When Charlie found out that she is now a big sister.

☆彡 Your lover is an idiot; he can be a cute one or an annoying one, never in between, and right now you wonder which one he is as you are in the middle of one of their idiocies.

☆ Reader is g/n.

☆ Warnings: mild swearing? just Angel being Angel. Kinda crack, Charlie cries and it's all your fault.

No proofread.

 

 

You could ask anyone in and out of the hotel and get the same answer. Every. Single. Time.

Who is the biggest supporter of you and Lucifer's relationship? Charlie Morningstar.

 

Not that there was much competition; truth be told, she was the only one who cared enough about your relationship, always asking how your dates were going and if her father was treating you right.

And of course, Angel, who was suspiciously very interested in your partner, but you weren't planning on answering his questions, you prefer to keep his dick size to yourself.

 

That is why you find it unnecessary, so weird, to have the whole hotel's residents in the lobby waiting for the so-important announcement that Lucifer wanted to make; you love him? Yes, you will always be by his side? Definitely. Now, does that mean you want to? Right now, you are not sure.

Right before everyone's eyes, you stand beside your lover, who looked so excited and you could swear was about to jump in joy. Your energy doesn't match his, and you only give Charlie a small smile every now and then to let her know everything is alright.

He cleared his throat. "Now, you may wonder why we reunited you here today," he said, his voice denoting mistery. That made you chuckle. He is such a showman. "My love and I have big news!"

 

"We're having a baby!" He said it with one of the biggest smiles you had seen on his face.

 

"What!?"

"I'm having A BABY BROTHER!?"

 

"Well, not exactly," you interrupted before anyone else could speak or Lucifer started his theatrics again. "I think the appropriate word is "babies."  The comments started again.

 

"Damn, I knew that dick was good," Angel said.

 

☆◦ •◦☆

For someone who loves you so much and could kiss the ground you walk on, Lucifer was hard to convince to go on a walk with you. He surrenders the moment you say you are, in fact, going on with or without him, following after you.

You could see in his face that he was not having the time of his life. You remember the first time he stepped on the hotel, doing his best to not call it shit right there, and the streets in Pentagram City were not different from that; in fact, it was worse.

You just couldn't help it. It was nice to go on a walk around the streets; it was something you always enjoyed. Your lover's presence scaring away every soul who looked in your direction was just a treat.

 

When you suddenly stopped, Lucifer, who was following a step behind you, called your name with curiosity.

 

You couldn't find many animals in hell—well, not in the pride ring—but when a hellborn brings an animal, it is common for it to be the pet of someone. That's why you're now standing there, surprised to see at least five baby ducks on the side of the walk, running around.

"Look at those cute ones!" Your lover exclaims besides you with a babyish voice, as he kneels to take one of the ducks on his hand. "Darling, look! Is so precious!" You smiled, the image before you so breathtaking; you followed his actions, now rubbing one of the little ones head with your finger.

You counted six ducks; they seemed to be no more than three days old. Looking around, you tried to get a glimpse of the ducks mother, but it seemed like they were all by themselves; it nearly broke your heart.

"Darling! We can't just leave them here!" You turn your head to look at Lucifer, who was trying to hold all of the ducks in his arms; it was actually cute.

 

☆◦ •◦☆

To see the King of Hell walking around the hotel with six ducks and one Niffty following him as if he were a mama duck was something nobody expected, but they seemed to be getting used to the idea.

Husk mentioned he is, in fact, the mama duck, and you were the father.

What really took you off guard was to see Charlie resting her head on Vaggie's shoulder, crying over the baby brother you guys allegedly made her think of.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞

[mokulule]

Take Out for Dummies - part 1

Ship: Dead on Main

“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.

“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.

Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.

“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”

The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”

Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.

Oo o oO

It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.

So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:

“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.

“What the-“

“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.

“Do you have a death wish?”

That for some reason brought a smile to his face.

Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”

Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.

“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”

“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.

Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-

No…

It couldn’t be…

He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…

“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”

Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.

“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”

Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.

Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.

“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.

“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.

Danny’s face brightened into a smile.

“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.

“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.

“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.

Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.

Oo o oO

Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.

It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.

As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.

Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.

All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.

He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.

With a sigh he pushed the button.

It rang three times before it connected.

“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.

“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”

“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.

“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.

Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?

“Yes.”

“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”

“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”

Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”

“’s fine.”

“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”

Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:

“Sure.”

“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”

With those words the call ended.

Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.

Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -

Subscribe to the masterpost here Next

[vivwritesfics]

I love your writing and i was hoping you could do one of a jealous max<3 maybe y/n is (heavily)shipped with charles by the fans, so max starts to join her for interviews and being a little more touchy so the fans get some kind of idea of the truth🤭 id also be fine if you take some creative liberties! Have fun with it, yk!

Her boyfriends best friend also happened to be his best friend. What luck was that? She and Charles had been best friends since the womb, Max was just a happy addition later on.

Max was her everything. They didn't exactly hide their relationship, but it wasn't at the forefront of who they were. Their lives were racing, not their relationship.

Maybe it shouldn't have come as a surprise when the fans started shipping her with Charles. They were in Ferrari together, they were interviewed together, played football together, did everything together.

Max was sick of it.

He had to do something. Somebody else might post something on social media where they show off their love. But not Max Verstappen, he couldn't do anything simple.

She and Charles were doing an interview together, as they normally did. Somehow this interview ended with her taking off Charles hat and forcing him to wear it backwards.

Max was hovering nearby. He wasn't going to step in, not until the interviewer called them cute.

That got his blood boiling. He stepped in front of the camera, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend and kissing her cheek.

The interviewer was only too happy to have a three time world champion in front of the camera. They directed some of the questions towards Max, who never took his hands off of Y/N.

Articles and news stories came out about them. It was amazing just how many people didn't realise they were dating. But nobody questioned it again. At least, not until he placed a ring on her finger.

[ventismacchiato]

41 behind the lens — truth or drink !

scaramouche x g!n reader

you and scara get asked to go on the youtube talk show ‘truth or drink’, where you ask eachother a series of questions. if one of you decides not to answer you must take a shot instead.

welcome to truth or drink! celebrity couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot!

Scara immediately starts pouring himself a shot.

You: we haven’t even started yet!

how long have you both been together?

Scara: about five years

You: five long years

Scara: go fuck yourself?

how did you both get together? did you two secretly pretend to hate each other online? everyone is dying to know!

You start reaching for the bottle but Scara yanks it away from you.

Scara: go on, answer it baby

You: do i have to?

Scara: if you don’t then i will

You: fine. basically i fell for scara before i knew he was a popular streamer, he was just a classmate from my photography class. the day after our first date is when i found out he was the balladeer.

Scara: and you continued to date me and not tell me you were my mortal enemy!

You: he’s still petty about this as you can see

when did he find out you were stardust?

You: a month later i think? after we went to paris for twitch con?

Scara: i need a drink just listening to this

worst thing you both experienced after doing your face reveal years ago?

Scara: no more alone time, i couldn’t even go for a walk without people recognizing me

You: also college was so weird after, i remember professors would play my videos after and ask if that was me. like obviously it is?

Scara: also so many photos, couldn’t even go to a public bathroom without people trying to photograph my dick

You: thankfully it’s died down since then

how often do you guys have sex?

Scara: it used to be every other day

You: but then we got real people jobs like acting and directing and now it’s less

Scara: a shame

most public place you’ve have sex?

You and Scara both share a look.

You: okay, i’ll divulge one place that’s not too bad. his trailer on his most recent project

Scara silently takes a shot.

have you ever considered breaking up?

This time it’s your turn to take the bottle away from Scara.

Scara: i wasn’t serious about it, but i have thought about it

You: tell them how many times

Scara: not my fault i have commitment issues!

have you ever cheated on one another?

Scara: they cheated on me with my alter ego

You: I TOLD YOU EVENTUALLY DIDN’T I?

what’s something about eachother the media wouldn’t believe?

You: he is so clingy, but it’s so cute

Scara: i am not

You: you’re literally playing with my foot right now

Scara: fuck off, and nobody would believe how kinky you are

You: i think you mean how kinky you are

Scara: and you’re into it so what does that say about you?

You: pour me a shot

how many sexual partners have you had?

Scara stares off to the side to count in his head.

Scara: 20?

You: the way you don’t even know

Scara: before you i just had a lot of one night stands, i was a whore

You: you still are

Scara: you’re into it

You: …unlike him i will be taking a shot for this one

have you talked about marriage?

You: tell them what you told me

Scara: marriage is a social construct, why do i have to host a big event and get down on one knee to prove i want to be with someone for the rest of my life? yn already knows i love them and now i have to get a ring and do paperwork too? society sucks

You: he’s insane, but we have talked about it

Scara: they will be proposing though

You: he’s such a princess

if you were allowed one pass, who would you sleep with?

You: wait, out of people we know?

Scara: Hm…say it on three

You: okay…1…2…3

You and Scara: Kazuha

Scara: honestly, i think he and Heizou would be down

something romantic your partner does?

You: honestly he has a lot…a recent one i found out about was when Scara buys me flowers he always keeps one for himself, so when it dies he knows when to get me a new bouquet

Scara: okay

You: awe look, he’s all shy now

how many kids do you both want if any?

Scara: i like kids but i want zero of my own

You: he compared it to a dog

Scara: that makes me sound bad! i said it’s like a dog because other people’s dogs are cute but if i had my own i would accidentally kill it

You: my blood line ends with me

if your partner was in a coma, how long would you wait for them?

Scara: a good year, maybe two if i feel like it

You: THAT’S IT?

Scara: …yeah?

You: offended you won’t wait an eternity for me and never fall in love again

Scara: my water bill will finally be normal again without you

You: such a romantic you are

how often do you two get into arguments? and what about?

You: not as much as we used to, we’re better at finding solutions and communicating

Scara: it’s usually about how busy we are due to work

You: yeah sometimes we go weeks without seeing eachother and it makes him cranky

Scara: one time they ran towards me at an airport

You: it was romantic!

Scara: i had to drop my coffee to catch you

something about marriage that scares you?

Scara pours himself a shot.

You: hey, tell me!

Scara: no thanks

You: Please?

Scara: …fine. just scared you’ll get bored eventually or realize i’m not the one

You: i’ll ever get bored of you!

Scara: we’ll see

has anyone flirted with you during a project? any fellow actors or directors?

You: sometimes people hit on him right in front of me

Scara: you’re no better, people hit on you more. literally just last week—[censored]

You: can you guys bleep that so nobody loses their job!

first impression of each other?

You: i thought he was the cutest boy in class

Scara: you’re fun to listen to

You: i talked a lot during our college days didn’t i?

Scara: you still do

You: wow…

Scara: didnt say i disliked it, idiot

one thing you would change about the other?

Scara: nothing

You: okay i feel bad about my answer

Scara: fuck you?

You: i was going to say i wish you were less of a workaholic!

Scara: i can try

how do your parents feel about your relationship?

Scara: thanks for watching, make sure to like and subscribe and comment down below-

You: sore topic as you can see

last one before we let you two go, something you love about eachother?

You: he’s going to take a shot

Scara slowly puts the bottle back down.

You: told ya

Scara: theres so many fucking people watching me right now

You: fine, i’ll go first. i like how he shows his love for me in different ways like a lot of people think hes really cold but once he gets comfortable he can be the loudest and sweetest person in the room

Scara: thanks i guess

You: look how red he is

Scara: do you want to die?

You: okay, my turn!

Scara: i like…how you make me feel safe

You: you’re so cute

Scara: die

You: i love you too

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

author’s notes — i thought this wud be silly so hope u enjoyed 🙏 almost free 😭😭

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

[1989tvcore]

tied by music. - charles leclerc. chapter one.

summary; in which a songwriter gets in contact with the il predestinato to help her in creating her most personal album.

face claim; taylor swift

pairing(s); charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader, zayn malik x ex! fem! singer! reader. smau.

warning(s); toxic/unfaithful relationship, reader in a very bad mental state during break-up but she’s eventually healed, zayn is the douchebag i sincerely apologise. </3 (most of these are shown in the following parts)

author note; can we please um… ignore the fact that um… this is literally the script for my um… fame dr… ANYWAYS HERE’S COMPOSER CHARLES TO COMFORT YOU! 🤍 this series will have many parts or maybe just two, we’ll see how it plays out.

masterlist | chapter 2

english isn’t my first language, credits to rightful owners.

popbase

liked by y/nayncrumbs, ynphobic and 45,771 others

popbase Song-writer & Musician Y/N Y/LN & former One-Direction & Musician member Zayn Malik have officially broken up after 6 years of being together, TMZ reports.

tagged: youryusername, zayn

view all comments

user6 oh that y/nayn stan account must be crying now that the rumors are confirmed …

y/nayncrumbs user6 i literally just turned suicidal.

ynphobic y/nayncrumbs u know damn well this was long due …

user47 user6 can you blame them?

user58 THANK GOD, that man was insufferable when it came to their relationship

user13 user58 silent like

user0 user58 do y’all ever shut up

user58 user0 just wait until y/n releases a new album x

user99 NO PLS SAY SIKE RN

user33 user99 YES PLS DO I CAN’T HANDLE THIS I’M IN CLASS

user13 user99 girl she’s free???

user1989 wait a sec … remember when we got y/n6 rumors a few months ago?? DID HE CHEAT?? ZAYN IT’S ON SIGHT.

user17 user1989 they might’ve just not announced it when they actually broke up 🤡

user1989 user17 they were spotted together multiple times during y/n6 rumors and he was literally ignoring her while talking to models???

user16 why is nobody mentioning how charles leclerc has literally been helping y/n to make y/n6???

user55 user16 same question right here.

user4 user16 how do you know it’s for y/n6?

user16 user4 y/n has mentioned multiple times that she admires charle’s music and would love to work with him on a project of hers or his

user77 user16 Y/N IS A F1 GIRLIE??

user16 user77 since she was a child 🤧

yourusername just posted a story!

seen by charles_leclerc, oliviarodrigo and 1,403,758 others

user1989 GIRL WE KNOW THAT’S CHARLES’ KEYBOARD

user13 this album will break us all so bad.

user16 hi pls attend the next grand prix tyvm

charles_leclerc you must be in jail for not sending me the first picture.

yourusername charles_leclerc surprise? 😁

charles_leclerc yourusername yeah yeah whatever now send me the picture so i can make it my wallpaper 😌

charles_leclerc just posted a story!

seen by yourusername, f1, landonorris and 997,410 others.

user1989 SHUT UP IT’S LITERALLY THE SAME KEYBOARD

f1wagsource soft launch, no?

user65 CHARLES HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS.

yourusername no bc i’m literally announcing our baby tomorrow

charles_leclerc yourusername I know 🫶🏻

yourusername charles_leclerc i’m so nervous

charles_leclerc yourusername there’s no reason to be nervous sweetheart. whatever happens I’m here.

yourusername charles_leclerc stop being such a good boyfriend you know i’m not used to men like you 😔

charles_leclerc yourusername I really don’t plan on stopping anytime soon cherié.

yourusername charles_leclerc please do not! i love you 💞💓💕💗💝💘💖

charles_leclerc yourusername i love you too babe, now go rest you’ve got many promotions starting tomorrow.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 13,400,239 others

yourusername Surprise surprise! The first single of my new album “Metanoia” (coming out April 23), “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” comes out tomorrow evening!

Thank you my whole team for making this album possible. I’m so grateful for all the wonderful and talented artists who took part in the creation of “Metanoia”, truly couldn’t be more lucky to have people like you by my side. Whether that is as colleagues or friends. In addition, there was one special someone who took HUGE part in writing, composing and producing this album with me, someone who I have very close to my heart. @charles_leclerc, the man, the monegasque himself. Thank you for agreeing to helping me bring into real life my deepest emotions and thoughts, you stood by me during very hard times in my life, I will always be thankful for that. Studio sessions with you are my only good memories of the hell I’ve been through last year.

And to the fans, thank you for supporting me always. I hope you’re excited for this project as much as I am. See you tomorrow for the premiere of the “we can’t be friends (wait for you love)” music video!

view all comments

arianagrande congrats!! can’t wait to listen♡

liked by author

yourusername arianagrande my girl 🤍

iamrebeccad can’t wait for tomorrow 🥰

liked by author

yourusername iamrebeccad love you so much. 🥹💗

francisca.cgomes album of the year already

liked by author

yourusername francisca.cgomes tearing up, thank you so much kika. 🥹🤍

lilymhe so in love with you! 💗

liked by author

yourusername lilymhe my #1 gf 🥹💞

alex_albon lilymhe excuse me?

rachelzegler I THINK I’M CRYING??

liked by author

niallhoran Congrats sis!

yourusername niallhoran Thank you Niall! 🫶🏻

user29 niallhoran oh zayn fucked up big time

user32 niallhoran THEIR FRIENDSHIP IS EVERYTHING

ynayncrumbs niallhoran oh it’s really over.

user1989 DID I ACTUALLY JUST MANIFEST Y/N6????

user13 user1989 OH MY FUCK YOU DID

user45 user1989 I think you graduated from tom holland manifestation university!

user16 WHERE’S THE TRACKLIST??

user88 user16 she’ll probably reveal it later

user99 EVERYONE SHUT UP NEW Y/N MV TOMORROW!!?!?

user30 user99 I’ve got a feeling it’ll have a love interest

user99 user30 SAME

charles_leclerc So proud of you! ❤️

liked by author

yourusername charles_leclerc Thank you Charlie! 🥹

ynphobic charles_leclerc I think I’m not breathing anymore.

user49 charles_leclerc I’M CRYING TEARS OF HAPPINESS.

landonorris having early access to this album: it’s good ig…

yourusername landonorris did you think the same when you were crying to the whole tracklist?

landonorris yourusername YOU DID NOT.

alex_albon landonorris get ended nowins 🤣‼️

landonorris alex_albon FUCK YOU

user11 I’M LITERALLY CRYING BC WDYM CHARLES ALMOST GOT A PARAGRAPH DEDICATED TO HIM??

yourusername user11 he deserves it more than anything. 🤍

©️ 1989tvcore 2024 , all rights reserved.

taglist; @formulaonebuff @ironspdy @sleepybrokenmelle @dreamergirlatpaddock @taygrls

[bunji-enthusiast]

One Whole, Became Two

Note || this took me so long to write, but I love this stupid idiot platonically. Chapter three my sleep-deprived folks 👍🏻

WC || 3,312

<(part 1)><(previous part)><(you are here)>

Sypnosis || you bring back a dear old dead heart to a wounded dog.

If someone ever told you that you would’ve come back to a desolate factory full of death and damnation you would tell them that in what world in which would that happen? You never would’ve heeded their words.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You hated being wrong.

Yet, many things may have happened, some of which allowed you to get in some exercise… you also gained some new friends. They are very near and dear to you, despite the small numbers you retain in your ragtag group of allies. You preferred the terminology friends, you’ve gotten close with Kissy Missy and Poppy, even DogDay too!

Speaking of which, this accursed Playcare was still a little too dark for your liking. You needed more power, more light to go the right way necessary. A light chuckle breaks you out of your thoughts, “A-angel, do you need some help?” DogDay inquired, watching as you had tried to remember which way he had pointed to the medical station.

You shook your head egregiously, trying to affirm your belief as you spoke, “I got it… I swear I know which way it is!” Your shoulders slumped as you let out a defeated sigh, having to hate asking him for help.

Asking for help wasn’t necessarily your most favorite thing in the world, in for the most of miniscule of things. You thought it was ridiculous, insipid to do, in no way would you ever ask for said help unless you really were struggling.

Apparently as of right now, these were one of those moments that you were truly struggling, and it was with directions as well. You couldn’t be any more ashamed, “Could you m-maybe tell me where it was again?”

DogDay let out an amused bark, not merely in making fun of you. He thought you were just cute, the way you were embarrassed, though DogDay will never actually admit this feeling to you. “Okay, Angel, you see that sign over there? It points to the direction of the medical station.” Your large companion points to the sign in question, you sorely cannot miss it no way, his paw was big. Actually, it’s nearly the size of your head.

“Ah, focus!”

The pathway was riddled with broken cobblestone and dirt, but do-able to make your way through. You just hated broken paths, no trouble still.

You nod to let him know you saw it, walking over to the sign that was now a few pacings away from you. The silence had now settled in place for the lack of conversation, it was seemingly getting awkward enough as is. Suddenly, a new voice interjects on the radio of your walkie-talkie.

“Oh there you are! I wasn’t able to connect to you on that side of the dome!” His light voice carried an undercurrent of worry. “No ouchies or lost body parts?”

DogDay raised a brow as you two had continued making your way to the medical station. You nodded your head curtly, as if angling your head to signify you’d explain the kid on the radio at a later time. You spoke out in reply, knowing full well you weren’t in any real danger at the moment, “I’m uh, I’m fine Ollie. Just taking care of a friend, they got hurt… real bad.” A wince left your throat at the tone you carried within your words, you didn’t expect that.

A thought rushed into your head, “Why’d I word it like that? I guess I’m just worried about revealing DogDay to Ollie just yet.” DogDay patted your leg as to reassure you, eyes gleaming as if they were smiling down upon you. 

“Alright, you can introduce me later,” Ollie paused, as if he were hesitating to get the words out of his mouth. As if something was holding him back from doing so, “Take care of them first then I’ll tell you what to do next. See you!”

Then, the radio was now silent. You let out a breath you held in your lungs, sometimes forgetting to breathe reminds you to even breathe manually. An odd habit but nobody will nitpick that for the life of all there is to know and exist. 

An abrupt cough shocked you out of your thoughts, you immediately became concerned for DogDay who had been patiently waiting for your dilemma and conversation to end. You knelt down and checked over his body, “No need to worry.” You lodged his resistance in the back of your head, looking for any external wounds beside the most obvious ones. 

“I shouldn’t have stopped.” You murmur, gently picking him up. There was no way you’d let him drag himself along the floor, not until he was in a better state.

“We’re alright Angel,” DogDay sputtered, you were unimpressed, not phased by his words. “Really… but who was that if I may ask?” 

Steadily, you continued walking–the stupid medical station finally in reach. “Ollie, apparently sometime after I dropped down here he told me he was an ally of Poppy.” You then trailed off, not sure if you wanted to mansplain the entirety of the story down right to when you came across DogDay. Sighing, you begrudgingly open the door to the station.

The room was messy, akin to the state of many other locations in Playcare. But in your modest opinion, you truly did not care about that. You just really needed to fix up DogDay, and he was the focal point of your attention right now. “Angel, you seemed to be incredibly bothered.” 

DogDay shifted on the weight of his body as you began setting him down, if you were being truthful, you couldn’t refute that very fact. Yet you felt too angry to get the words across, “I know, I.. I guess this stupid factory just has me all on edge.”

Then a silence settled into place, as neither of you were unsure of what to say next. Everything and nothing was happening all at the same time. You walked over the ruined carpet, it looked as if it was made in the 1980’s. Some doors seemed to be torn off of it’s hinges, but at least the supplies were barely stolen. There was enough to treat DogDay properly, as much as you can manage within your knowledge anyway.

The hard part would be treating DogDay, (as you unfortunately didn’t have enough knowledge medically) and getting him his legs back so he could walk on his own as well. 

Gently, you opened a door to a closet, full of bandages and gauze. 

“Perfect timing, guess I didn’t need to look that hard.” You thought to yourself, your hands already grabbing the bandages and gauze. A small smile graced your cracked lips, carrying a genuine air with you, “Hey, DogDay I found some supplies. Looks like they left this place pretty untouched.” You waved at him, holding the aforementioned supplies in hand. 

DogDay perked up from where he had been looking at some stray medical papers, most likely files of every patient to come in and out of the station. “Oh!.. Thank you greatly. You really are an angel my friend.” You become bashful at his words, an embarrassed chuckle leaving you as you scratched the back of your head. Standing up you walk back over to the large dog, motioning for DogDay to position himself to where you can get to all the spots correctly.

You sighed, having to take a moment in order to set yourself into focus, this was important. You didn’t want to screw up something so crucial to DogDay’s health, “Ok, This might hurt a little so bear with me.” You warn, crouching down as you laid out the supplies.

“I have no doubt you will do fine!” DogDay encouraged you, settling down to be calmer for you. Fine, yes you can do fine. Okay well enough maybe, you just need to be careful!

Why was this so difficult?

“Stupid brain, Stop giving me all these thoughts!” You groan lowly, setting into place to mend his more major wounds with a contemporary suture. First off, you needed to clean the suture, to which you had quickly done. 

You gently pressed a wet rag to the most prominent area, cleaning it out of any debris that might be left behind in the wound. DogDay was simply listening and quiet upon your actions, clearly a little too impressed for your liking. You swabbed the wound with water then threw away the rag a few meters from you, you internally winced at that. 

Injuries are a major case for you ever since you stepped foot into this factory, you just never expected to be having to treat another person (or toy for that matter). 

“Angel?” You let out a hum in reply, suturing the wound as he spoke. “You seem… incredibly bothered, maybe you should try to talk about it.” DogDay shifted slightly, wincing a little as he had done so. Concern washes over your expression as you went to hold him, he held out a hand to reassure you he was fine.

“Well.”

You sat back on the heel of your foot as you thought about it for a moment, your brows knitted together. It was practically hurting your head, giving you a headache to be thinkin about every little thing that was running through your head.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line, unsure of whether or not to air your concerns. But it seems you weren’t gonna have any other chance to talk about it then right now, you just didn’t wanna dump everything on DogDay all at once. 

Practically would seem like a lot. Far too much to say and too little to be sure of. 

“I guess I’m just concerned over whether or not I really can trust Poppy,” You signal, having a habit of talking with your hands. “And this, Prototype guy… didn’t you say CatNap worships this thing like a god?”

He nods, “Yes, I didn’t join the Prototype. Which is why he had deemed me a heretic.” You frown at his words, nobody deserves that type of treatment. Making it even worse, you would assume the two used to be very good friends. 

“Oh dear,” You echo, recoiling suddenly in embarrassment for voicing something you didn’t realize slipped out of your mouth. DogDay laughs at this, waving his hand as he sits himself upright so as to not slip onto his back, “You are very much correct Angel.” He nods, “If anything, he’s no longer the old CatNap I’ve come to know him as.”

You shrug, a little unsure of the situation right now. Then a thought you finally needed ran across your mind, “Hey, would you happen to remember where your legs are or if… any spare ones laying around anywhere?” You motion around the room as you spoke, voice trailing off as you sat back, and awaiting DogDay’s response. He appeared to be deep in thought, clearly thinking about your question.

“I believe they have some spares in a storage room at this station,” DogDay gestures at the specific door he thought of in mind. “But Angel, I might be wrong. Don’t trouble yourself for my sake beyond this.” His voice strains, as if pleading. 

You chewed your lips, nodding your head once more as you headed to the door of origin. You quietly crept into the room, seeing how dark and dank it was. Slowly but surely your eyes had adjusted to the light. 

“Now, where are you… stupid legs.” You mutter, taking notice of some poppy gas that laid in wait in the corner, not to mention how badly scratched this room was in particular. Probably the work of CatNap or some other toy. On instinct, your legs drove you forward as you stepped into the gas with a gas mask inset upon your face. You certainly didn’t feel like dying from the gas, or passing out for that matter.

You had a debt to pay.

Your eyes wandered aimlessly as you palmed around for the supposed legs, feeling around for each and every inch possible that you might miss. 

Suddenly you felt a fuzzy feeling run up across your arm, you jostled in surprise, a happy squeak leaving your throat when you pick up the legs. “Thank you, sweet baby jesus.” You huff in reprise, feeling accomplished at the place of convenience.

If you could laugh right now, it would be possible, heaven sure as hell wasn’t a place for angels anymore. Not even you, but you still had to follow through, you came here in the first place anyway.

A small sigh left your esophagus as you turned, walking back through as you made careful note not to trip walking back too. 

Something had your mind occupied, demons infested this place. Elliot Ludwig had created this place, and if he so proclaims to want to bring joy to thousands upon thousands of children around the world then why would he permit the experiments. All those children and the elderly… your heart couldn’t help but ache at the mere thought. 

You shake your head to get your mind out of the unilluminated gutter, DogDay lit up upon seeing you in his sights once more. “Angel, you are alright.” He mentions, paw held to his chest as if he were breathing a sigh of relief.  

Your nose was scrunched as you gutted a snort, “You say that like it’s so surprising DogDay.” DogDay shrugs, as if he was now expressing the vulnerability of being embarrassed at the prospect of his own words. 

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” You wave him off, DogDay remains silent at this, not having any thought at what to say back to you. You were right though, he shouldn’t be doubting you for what even anyone in particular is worth. Being freed for what feels like the first time in forever had been leaving him with brand new thoughts, even though he had been thinking and left well alone for nearly over a decade now.

One door closes, infinite more are open. One must beware the foreign class, otherwise you may as well see yourself dead. 

“I truly do apologize for Poppy’s actions… we all mean well.” DogDay begins, trailing off into nearly an inconceivable silence. You set down the legs, to which DogDay is delighted at this brand new aspect, yet still left without room to be uncouth. You didn’t speak at all, pressing between the fine line of the truth and his own words. 

“We must, break the circle.”

What?

“Angel?”

“You all are chained, if whatever happened all those years ago were true…” You sigh, rubbing the nape of your neck as you find yourself in an air of awkwardness. “Then I am also at fault for the way you guys are right now.” 

DogDay’s brows drew together, upset that you feel guilty for the entirety of this fortnight. At least it had felt that way for you, you sincerely had lost track of time since your watch had gotten destroyed. You tried keeping up with the time on the clocks you pass by, but you just generally had lost the energy and motion in doing so.

“Hmn.” He muttered to himself, then got up to hug you, which had clearly surprised you as you felt yourself being enveloped and wrapped in a very fluffy hug. You sigh and decompress after a few moments, the shock finally leaving your body.

“Thanks… DogDay,” You motion, patting the fluff resting upon his chest. “I actually really needed that, hugs are a rarity.” You admit, blush burning on your cheeks as you look away from him in a manner of speaking. You hear a chuckle interrupted by a cough, “Don’t thank me, you seemed to really need it Angel. Being exhausted is one thing, but no hugs?”

DogDay drew a paw to his chest as he spoke dramatically, “That is absolutely unacceptable!” Your hand crossed over your mouth, trying to stifle a laugh at what a drama king DogDay was posing as at this very moment. 

“You kinda remind me of someone I know.” You motion, then sat on the heels of your feet as you immediately went back to work in fixing up DogDay. 

“How so?” 

“You're pretty bright, act like a drama king sometimes and you even can be a little mean…” You wag a finger as you see him begin to protest at the mean comment, “I don’t mean like in a rude manner, just like in a brotherly way. You kind of act like a big brother sometimes.” You shrug with a hint of finality, fixing up his other injuries and repairing them with a gentle hand, even if the suture seemed to betray the tremble displayed. 

After silence had continuously settled in once again, you sigh, angling at the fact on what to do in order to mend DogDay’s very obvious injury with his lack of legs attached at the bottom of his torso. For a moment, you meander with the decision.

“Right, I’m gonna try my best to reattach them to you.” You spoke with a benign tone, more so displaying your own distrust of yourself. You hated that, you practically hated everything so why is this any different.

You just have to do it scared. 

Familiarity reigns over your heart as you see his large paw lay over your own hand, you sigh, sensations shuddering your body as you keep yourself calm. You silently thank DogDay as you gesture that you were okay now, you can be fine on your own.

You push the legs to his upper half, just barely enough that it would appear as if the legs were there and back again already. Your hand wanders over to the middle line, your eyes glaze over with forlorn worry taking your very worried brain. You sigh as you begin stitching, taking careful caution as you notice him flinching quite a few times throughout the process. At a leisurely pace, you notice by the influence you had made by taking care of him how much better he looks physically. 

Soon enough, you manage to completely stitch his legs back to right where they belong. “Well done, I knew you could do it Angel!.” DogDay shook with excitement, reassuringly glad at the prospect of being able to actually walk again. You swear you could collapse at the relief, you hold out a finger before you let him get excited any further, “I still need to bandage it all together, extra precaution if you catch my drift.”

Your large dog companion nods in understanding, shifting about so his body parts don't get sore from sitting in one place for too long. 

From before, grace was high in patriarchy, now then you were sure it was something high to fall from. You could climb to the top (bottom to be literal) and rip the Prototype off of his high horse, and free all the surviving toys. 

You shook your head, trying to calm yourself at the buzzing excitement that had resonated deep-seated into your heart. You quickly went to work on bandaging the middle line of his torso, carefully curating it enough so the bandages would cover the stitches completely. 

“There, now we are done and good to go!” You look up at DogDay, offering him a soft smile. “Angel really… thank you so much.” He gestures for you to come closer, so you oblige and go in, suddenly you feel yourself being hugged by unabashed warmth. You yelped as air bloomed across your skin, seeing as you are now in the air quite a few feet off the ground.

DogDay really was hugging you with the whole of his heart, so you melt into his touch, relenting as you found defeat–yet also peace with your furry friend.

[wlntrsldler]

shades of cool | luke castellan

part two to how to disappear

a/n: happy endings don't exist on this page.

i. and when he calls, he calls for me and not for you; he lives for love, he loves his drugs, he loves his baby too.

“hermes is angry.” 

you knew it was your mother before you even saw her. the two, white doves cooing in the middle of downtown berkeley gave her away. although you hadn’t spoken to her in months, too afraid and too upset to put your faith in the hands of the gods since the night at the pier, your mother tried to get your attention every day. the flowers bloomed like clockwork. on your way to class, red and orange bunches sprouted from the corner of your eye. the once welcome reminder of luke turned bitter and painful. it was as if your mother was mocking you for losing him, for losing love. you felt as if you disappointed her, the daughter of the goddess of love, unable to experience it for herself. it was pathetic, really. 

you tucked your hair behind your ears, suddenly feeling self-conscious with aphrodite’s eyes on you. she was your mother, sure, and she’d been a better parent to you than most, but she was still a goddess– the goddess of beauty at that. your arms were crossed over your chest, eyebrows furrowed, “why?” 

she didn’t answer your question just yet, but she studied your face, eyes scrutinizing the marks of imperfections. she reached over to run her thumb across the bags under your eyes. “you’ve aged, my child.” 

you fought the urge to roll your eyes. this was normal with your mother. she made these snide comments about your appearance, but her comments to you were not nearly as bad as what she said to your siblings, and especially not as bad as what other godly parents put their kids through. you could handle a few jabs here and there. you shrugged, “not all of us have the power of eternal youth.” 

she nodded, pulling her thumb away, “we have not talked in a while.” 

“been busy,” you lied, chewing on your bottom lip. you tugged on the scarf around your neck, wanting to keep your hand occupied as you avoided her gaze. you wondered if your mother missed you, if she actually cared about you. in the weird way that gods do, you suppose that she did care, but you wondered if she cared about you the way a mother would; worry about your safety when you went out at night, worry if you were wearing enough layers in the winter, mundane things like that. “college and stuff, you know.” 

“hmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. she motioned for the two doves perched on the tree branch to fly away. they obeyed her, circling around each other in a dance, before flying away in separate directions, away from the both of you. “how many more years do you have left?” 

“another two after this and then i’m done.” it was odd talking to her like this, in her human form, like she was a normal mother who was just curious about college and her daughter’s future. maybe she even sounded a little bit proud of you; a child of aphrodite, making a name for herself outside of the life she was dealt. “hopefully, i’ll make it to graduate school.” 

a heavy tension hung in the air as your words echoed. aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, thinking. she looked up at the sky, before repeating herself. “hermes is angry.”

you stared at her, waiting for her to continue. there was an unreadable expression on her face, somewhere between anger, pain, and desperation, but it wasn’t her own emotions that she carried. she was mirroring someone, as if their pain was so unbearable, aphrodite herself had to shoulder some of it to save them. the gods were selfish. most of the time, they thought of nobody but themselves, but there were some moments when they showed compassion, when they showed mercy to mortals and demigods alike.

“his son resents him,” she continued, eyes closing like she was picturing it in her mind. “he is angry at me because his son prays to me instead of him.” 

“mom, i don’t want to hear this,” you sighed, anger rising in your system. you knew she knew how you felt about the situation. you’d ignored her attempts to talk frequently. “he made his decision. he’s betrayed us all.” 

“i cannot ignore him, don’t you understand?” she looked at you, eyes glossed over in a pleading manner. she looked too human. it was unsettling. “his love is loud. he is desperate. i am the goddess of love and i cannot ignore him while he suffers, even if he makes me his enemy.”

“the other gods listen to his prayers to me because i can no longer carry the burden on my own. it is too much, my child,” she shuddered, “all he talks of is you.” 

you stared at her, internalizing her words. a shiver went down your spine as you looked at her, “i don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” 

“i have tried to tell you, but you’ve been stubborn,” aphrodite frowned, “you do not pray, you do not make your offerings. you have not spoken to your siblings since that night. you have disappeared from this life as if you were not part of it at all.” 

“because i didn’t ask for this!” you screamed. “i don’t want anything to do with this, mom. losing luke… it killed me. you know this. i can’t go back there and i can’t make offerings to you or the gods when you all are the reason why he did what he did!” 

since that night, you began to question your blind faith in the gods. you’d been taught to worship them and you did because you had to. you were luckier than most, being the favorite of your mother, so you never went against the gods. you thought you had no reason to, until luke began talking to you. he planted seeds of distrust for the gods in you, learning about thalia, meeting annabeth and learning her story from luke, what luke had to go through during his quest. how did the gods sit back and leave their children for dead? but you always believed there was a purpose for all of this, and it provided you with some misguided comfort. then, luke left everyone who’d ever loved him because the anger in his soul won against all odds, and you knew there was no reason to trust them anymore. 

if the gods were all-mighty and all-powerful, how could they let him grow so angry and accept this fate? how dare they ignore him and ruin him? he was kind. he was patient. he was luke. he deserved more than what they gave him. all of you do. aphrodite blinked, trying to understand you. a look of panic flashed across her features, her human form slowly peeling away, but you could see her pulling back. 

“i’m not saying i’m joining him,” you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands, “i’m just saying what he said to percy made sense. luke had a point. the gods were horrible to him and to all demigods. hermes has no right to be angry with you, or with luke. he should be angry at himself. all of you should be.” 

“i can’t forgive luke for what he did,” you whispered, voice calming after a rumble of thunder shook the ground. the gods were listening. “beth still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. she writes to me every month. i haven’t written back because it hurts, mom. i keep thinking of luke. she reminds me so much of him and it kills me that i can’t do anything to help her. where do i even start? i can’t fulfill the hole he left in her life. nobody can.” 

your mother nodded, clearing her throat. “do consider returning to camp this summer. your siblings miss you and your sister is not doing well.” 

“piper?” 

“silena,” she replied. the doves returned to her. “it was lovely to see you, my child.” 

in a blink, she was gone. you wondered if she’d show her face again, but the rain fell from the sky soon after she left, and you realized you probably wouldn’t. 

ii. but you are unfixable, i can't break through your world.

“i’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” you motioned for your roommates to keep walking home without you. the two girls nodded, sending you a small wave of goodbye, before they turned the street corner. you began walking towards the entrance of the science building, towards the silhouette of a boy you could recognize in every life. 

luke’s jaw was clenched as you approached him. he was caught. luke knew that he shouldn't be here. he knew it was too dangerous, but he couldn't help himself; he had to see you. 

berkeley suited you. in college, you were a normal girl, stressed about finals and getting a summer internship. though luke had never seen you outside of camp before, he always imagined that you’d look even more beautiful when you didn’t have the stress of this life on your shoulders. it was weird seeing you out in the world like this. if he hadn’t known you, if he wasn’t already under your spell, he would undoubtedly fall to worship aphrodite’s favorite daughter.

your friends didn’t know who your mother was, but if they saw through the mist, if they knew the truth, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to them. you had an aura about you that was undeniable and for a minute, luke was jealous that these people around you could freely succumb to your pull, to allow themselves into your orbit, while all he could do was watch from afar. they didn’t realize how lucky they were to be around you, they would never fully understand. 

you looked happy in the bay area, free, like you weren’t a demigod, like you weren’t preparing for a war. a war that he knew he caused. 

he looked down at his feet before rising from the steps. he hadn't planned to speak to you. he’d been following you for weeks, from a distance, of course, he wasn’t going to test his luck any more than he already was, but then you approached him and luke knew there was no hiding anymore. 

truth be told, there was never any hiding from you in the first place. you knew him better than he knew himself. sometimes, it scared him, just how vulnerable he was with you. when he first realized how he felt about you, he wanted to squash the feeling between his fingers and make it disappear into thin air. he knew there was nothing good that could come out of it, but he couldn't help but hope. 

how could he not? how could he not hope that maybe, in some twisted way, he would be able to be with you? that one day, he could stop running, stop fighting, and just love you the way he wanted to. hope was a cruel thing, luke realized after the night on the pier. it makes him believe that there is good out there, somewhere in the future, daring him to hold on just a bit longer, only to leave him high and dry, an empty shell of who he once was. 

“what are you doing here?”

luke let the question linger between the both of you for a second. partly because he didn't know what he was doing here. i needed to see you didn't feel like enough. it barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling. luke was never a wizard with words, but he used to be able to at least say something. now, though, as you stood in front of him, his mind went blank. 

“what are you doing here?” you repeated. you had your arms wrapped around yourself to soothe your skin from the wind chills. luke didn't know it got this cold in california. “i’ve seen you a few times, and i thought you’d give it up, but it’s been weeks, luke. so tell me, what are you doing here?”

luke’s mouth was dry. he thought he was being careful, but he should’ve known better. you could always sense when he was around, just like how he knew whenever you were around. there’s something that shifts in the air, as if it gets lighter and it’s easier to breathe. luke wondered if it was still the same for you. 

“he's using me,” luke whispered, “like a stepping stone to gain power.” 

for a second, your face softened into a look that he knew too well. it was the same way you used to look at him when he talked about his nightmares or when he talked about his mom. a flicker of hope passed through luke’s mind, but he knew better now. he extinguished it before it got too comfortable. 

there was a hint of disbelief in your voice when you spoke again, “what did you think was going to happen?”

“i thought i was doing the right thing,” he felt small. “i thought he wanted to make things better for us. the gods, they’re terrible parents. you know this. what they did to thalia, to all of us, i-i just thought that he would make things better.”

you shook your head, “luke, you betrayed all of us. percy, annabeth– did you know that she cries at night over losing you? over losing her brother? she’s lost everyone luke! and you were supposed to stay. you were supposed to be there for her! i saw her last summer when i came back to camp. beth is so much like you.” 

“i know,” luke was crying. he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. kronos was taking over every part of him. he was there in every crevice of him, just waiting for the moment to drain him of everything he used to be. “gods, i know, angel. i just thought i was doing the right thing.” 

“and me luke,” you rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers. you hadn’t told anyone this before. you were too busy trying to make sure that everyone else around you was okay. as the oldest one now that luke was gone, you had to step up. your mother was right. your siblings were not doing well, nobody in the camp was. “i feel so stupid for ever trusting you. i keep thinking of every small interaction, every word you said, and i just keep wondering if any of it was real.”

“you don’t mean that,” he shook his head, stepping down to get closer to you. under the light of the streetlamp, you saw him better. if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him. “everything, all of it, i meant it. you know that right?” 

his eyes were sunken in, dark bags outshining the once vibrant sparkle of his eyes. now, the rims of his eyes were red. his hair was matted against his scalp like he let his curls tangle into knots and didn’t bother to fix them. there were newer, smaller cuts that joined the scar on his face. they weren’t as deep, but they were fresh, a sign that whatever he faced was recent.

“i love you, please tell me you at least believe that,” luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, “your mom doesn’t answer me anymore. i don’t know what else to do.”

when you didn’t say anything, luke felt the ground crumbling from under him. luke could live with a lot of things; being a failure in the eyes of his father, being a traitor, but you thinking that he didn’t love you was something he didn’t think he could live with. it was real to him, all of it. he didn’t know if this was the right time to tell you that those moments with you were the only things keeping him grounded. 

the image of you throwing your head back in laughter as he tickled your sides, the freckles on your cheeks that showed up during the summer that he would spend hours counting while you slept on his chest, the sound of your voice, talking in hushed whispers, in the dark of the hermes cabin; it was you who he held onto as he fell deeper and deeper under kronos’ control. 

luke walked closer to you, holding out a hand to touch you, when you flinched and backed away from him. your fingers unconsciously reached for the dagger you had on your belt loop. he shuddered, taking in a breath. he looked down at his hands, lips trembling as he wiped them on the fabric of his jeans. there was nothing on them, but he wanted to scrub them clean because it felt as if all the blood he spilled was stuck under his flesh, staining them red. 

you thought he would hurt you. 

“i…” luke trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he cleared his throat, “i didn’t come here to fight. i could never hurt you.” 

“i don’t know anymore, luke,” you bit your lip, heart breaking as you spoke to him. “i never thought that we’d end up like this.” 

“come with me,” he begged. “run away with me.” 

“is this what you came here for?” you asked, “to try to recruit me like you did with percy?” 

“no,” he shook his head vigorously. he was on the verge of getting on his knees to beg you to believe him. “i want out. i messed up, angel.” 

“you did,” you whispered. he looked genuine like he meant it, like he did want to run away from it. a piece of you wanted to say yes, yes, i’ll run away with you. tell me where to go and i’ll follow you, but it was the part of you that still clung to him. the foolish part of you who still wanted to believe that the boy you met when you were younger, stubborn, selfless, sweet, luke castellan was still there. 

you listened to that part of you on the final night in the hermes cabin, when you told him you loved him and he said nothing back. you tried so hard to lock that part of you away since that night, but it was hard to deny it when he was there in front of you.

“tell me what i can do to fix it,” luke felt like he was going crazy. “anything, angel. i’ll do it. just say the word.” 

you closed your eyes, “there’s nothing you can do anymore, luke.” 

“that can’t be true,” he hiccuped. 

“you need to go.” 

over the last few years, luke experienced brutal types of torture. he often spent days without sleeping, too afraid that kronos would visit him while he dreamt. he fought monsters he didn’t realize existed. he walked away from fights barely hanging onto a thread of life, but this– you telling him that there was nothing else left for him, like he no longer had a place in your life, this was a different type of torture that might just send him plummeting to his end. 

“please don’t come back here,” you added, motioning to the buildings behind you. “this was the one place in my life you haven’t tainted.” 

his apology was left stuck in his throat as you walked away, not once looking back at him. 

iii. but i can't help him, can't make him better and i can't do nothing about his strange weather. 

“y/n,” percy said, approaching you from behind. 

it was the summer. you were sitting on the pier, a joint loosely hanging off your lips. you put out the lit end on the wooden pier, stuffing the joint in your pocket. you knew percy knew you smoked, but you still tried to hide it from him as much as possible. he was too young. 

“hey, perce,” you smiled, kindly, scooting over to give him space to sit next to you. “sorry. you caught me. i’m not really being a good role model right now.” 

“it’s okay,” he assured you, sitting beside you. he looked out into the lake, extending his fingers to cause a ripple effect in the water. “i don’t judge.” 

you nudged his shoulder. percy looked his age in the light of the sunset. you wondered if you ever looked that young. “don’t tell mr. d.” 

“he has plenty of other things to worry about,” percy scoffed, “how are you?” 

you knew why he was asking. beth had told you today that they saw luke in the labyrinth. he was now kronos’ host. when she first told you, you were stone cold, no emotion on your face. you knew something like this was possible. it was only a matter of time until you lost luke all over again, completely this time, but it still hurt even though you knew it was coming. you simply nodded and walked off, finding solace at the pier as you always did. 

“i’m okay,” you replied, though your voice said differently. you played with the sleeves of your sweater, luke’s sweater actually. he left it in the hermes cabin along with the rest of his things. nobody dared to touch it so his bed remained the same as it was years ago, collecting dust. “he came to see me in berkeley… before, y’know.” 

“did he?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning back on your elbows. “he said he wanted out. asked me to run away with him.” 

percy looked at you, “what did you say?” 

“i told him it was too late,” you met his gaze. “i don’t know if it actually was.” 

he didn’t know what to say to that. he’d only witnessed your relationship with luke for a few hours when he returned to camp for the first time. it was only a few years ago, but percy felt like it had been lifetimes. he’d heard about you and luke from annabeth and grover. when there were lulls in their conversations, one of them would bring you up and joke about how you and luke should just confess your feelings for one another. percy didn’t understand it until he saw the way luke was with you. 

luke, who’d taken him under his wing, was love struck. percy didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but there were traces of you weaved into luke’s life. a picture of the two of you in his wallet, a small cal berkeley flag taped messily on his wall, a box of his things under his bed that were reserved for you, doodles of hearts in black and pink ink on luke’s counselor clipboard when he did cabin checks, you were in every piece of him. 

luke was glued to your side the entire time you were there and nobody batted an eye. it was normal. luke and y/n, two names that seemed to go together, like they were meant to be uttered right after each other. it felt right. 

“i met your mom,” he said, “she was weird.” 

“sorry,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what did she say?” 

“she was obsessed with me and annabeth,” there was a blush creeping up on percy’s cheeks. he looked down at his lap to shy away, but you caught it. it was such a teenage boy response of percy to call your mom, the goddess of love, weird because she caught onto the two kids’ feelings for each other. 

“yeah, she does that,” you decided to spare him the details of why. you were sure the boy would explode in embarrassment if you told him that you also knew about his feelings for beth. you sensed it when you returned to camp last summer. there were inklings of it when you first met them, but now their bond was stronger and it was harder to ignore. “she used to obsess over me and luke.” 

percy blinked, “she said your love was her favorite to watch.” 

now it was your turn to go red, “did she?” 

“yeah,” he nodded, “annabeth thinks that you’re aphrodite’s favorite because you and luke had a great love and she was drawn to it, which is a little mean if you ask me.” 

“agreed,” you replied, “i… i miss him, percy.” 

“i know.” 

“i love him,” you cried, smudging the mascara on your eyes. 

“i know.” 

“he wasn’t always like this,” percy watched your eyes unfocus, like you were playing back the memories you had with luke in your head. “when we were younger, before luke was the golden boy, he used to help me sneak out of camp when i’d get home sick. he’d take me to this abandoned cabin a few miles away. an old couple used to live there and they set up a little free library. luke knew i loved to read so he would take me there so i could pick out new books for the summer.” 

“i didn’t know it then, but before i got to camp, he would steal books from stores during trips into the city and put them in there so i would have new selections to choose from when i got back,” you had a fond smile on your face as you continued, “the cabin was sold to new owners and they took the library down a while back. i think they thought nobody really used it anymore.” 

“he was always good at sneaking around,” you hummed, “he’d walk out of a place with something that wasn’t his inside his pocket; a lollipop for a new camper who was missing home a little extra one summer, a can of soda for beth from mr. d’s stash when it got too hot under the sun, a flower from the demeter kids’ secret garden for me. he never got caught, but everyone knew it was him. i don’t think anyone cared, though, because it was luke. he always had good intentions at the end of the day.” 

“do you think he’s still there?” percy asked, voice hushed into a whisper. “do you think he could ever come back to being that way?” 

“probably not,” you turned to face him. you were mourning him, percy realized then. luke wasn’t dead, not physically anyway, but the way you spoke about him felt like he was already gone. “luke, he internalizes everything he does. he beats himself up over the things he does wrong. if he were to survive this, i don’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.” 

“this life, this prophecy, it feels like too much sometimes,” he mumbled. the sun was gone now, the two of you sat in the dark, listening to the calm sounds of the water. “i still feel like i don’t know what i’m doing most days.” 

“yeah,” you played with the pink lighter in your hand. the heart you drew on the plastic was long gone and there was no more fluid in it, but you kept it anyway. “my prophecy said that i would lose a love to worse than death and i ignored then because it didn’t make any sense to me, but now it does.” 

“i’m sorry.” percy didn’t know if it was the right thing to say. 

you smiled at him differently, like you were tired, a look of resignation across your face. you stood up, motioning for him to follow you back to camp to join the others. as you walked together in silence, you noticed a single dove fly across the horizon. 

iv. high, neglectful lover. you’re crumbling, sadly. you’re sadly, crumbling. 

you’d fought through your wounds, even as your bones ached and your blood stained the clothes over your body. luke appeared then. you didn’t know if the gods took on mercy on you at that moment, or if was the lack of energy to distinguish real life from your dreams, or a mist that covered the truth from you then, but the world seemed to stop and everyone seemed to fade away. 

all you saw was luke, in his camp half-blood shirt, five beads around his neck, the same boyish smile on his face. his eyes were sparkling as he approached you. his lips felt soft to the touch and his voice was kind. 

“my angel,” he said, wrapping his arms around you the same way he always did when you returned to him each summer. 

if you were to choose the way death came for you, you would choose it just like this, you decided– in the arms of the one love you’d ever known.

[dekariosclan]

Hello my friend!

So we all know how amazing and wonderful Gale is, how kind, good, caring and funny he is. He is, in so many ways, a perfect man.

He is, however, only human. I have the tendency to idealise him, and forget this.

My question to you is - what do you think his flaws are? Both generally and as a husband/life partner.

💜

Ohhh I love this question so much ❤️ I am a hopeless romantic, and I adore Gale’s charming, sweet, loving adorkableness! He is truly amazing—but I can confirm NOBODY (and no relationship) is ever 100% perfect.

The thing about a long-term committed relationship is that, while your partner’s charms make the relationship wonderful, their flaws are what make it REAL. And that’s just as important.

So let’s talk about our charming Gale’s less-than-charming aspects, shall we?

[warning: this went from a short & concise answer to a rambling dissertation, please prepare yourself accordingly! Also I know this ask/answer was supposed to make Gale a little less perfect and help lessen our obsession, but uhhhh, I seem to have veered hard in the opposite direction 😂]

———

First off: The Pomposity™️ (I’m not 100% certain that’s even a real word but you know what I mean right) So we all know that by the end of the game, (human) Gale has come to accept himself as he is, and decided to henceforth be known as ‘Gale Dekarios, a most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.’ He’s come a lonnng way in cutting down his ego, but let’s be honest: some of it will never truly go away. And that’s fair, because he IS brilliant, and he IS talented, and he IS extremely passionate about magic.

…but it’s tough to remember all that and give him a pass when that usually-oh-so-adorable-finger-in-the-air is now aimed at YOU, as he declares that ‘after all, he IS an expert on [*insert topic here*] because he WAS awarded [*insert scholarly award here*] from the one and only [*insert impressive Blackstaff Academy professor here.*]’

And all you wanted was for your opinion to be taken into consideration regarding the wine selection at dinner.

———

Second: The Disarray / Messiness. Gale has a brilliant mind, one that he applies full throttle to any and all situations: concentration on magic spells, lance board strategy, calculations, poring over ancient tomes, and even figuring out how to cook something edible out of rotting fish heads and some moldy cheese (no veggies, though!)

The problem is, while his mind is brilliant and he will keep it laser-focused on his chosen subject at that current moment, from a day-to-day perspective he is straight-up scatter brained with all the things he has his hands in. We can see this in his vision of his tower: BOOKS. BOOKS EVERYWHERE. Some stacked in piles, some shoved onto shelves, some left open on the page he was reading when he got distracted, etc.

We also get confirmation of this from Tara in the epilogue:

Tara: The way he leaves his potions in absolute disarray—I know for certain he wasn’t raised in a barn, but you’d never know it.

It’s one thing to have books & potions & scrolls scattered throughout his library and sitting room—you have no complaints against that, you HAVE moved in with/married a wizard, after all—but to find them in the kitchen, wine cellar, even occasionally stuffed into your own wardrobe? It’s a bit much.

TLDR: Our rizzard is a hot mess.

———

Which leads us into perhaps his biggest flaw: The Fussiness.

So about all those books everywhere, on everything, all at once? You didn’t try and ARRANGE them or organize them for him, did you?…You did?! Oh, gods! No, no, he had an ORDER to them, you see, and he knew that the exact spell he needed could be found in the third book down in the stack next to the piano, page 453, why did you ever decide to move it?

Well, you explain as patiently as you can, it was in the way, and frankly you could tell from the dust on it that he hadn’t touched it in several yea—

BY ELMINSTER’S ELBOW, did you ALPHABETIZE his illusion scrolls??! Oh, for the love of—!

You get the picture.

There would undoubtedly be moments when you found yourself fully exasperated by this man and his exacting, fussy nature.

———

All that being said: true fights would be rare.

The occasional huffy remark or quickly-forgotten gripe would occur now and then as in any relationship, but a real, anger-filled argument? With heightened emotions and hurt feelings? Rare indeed.

The only thing bigger than Gale’s brain is his heart. And while his mind is dedicated to a great many things as mentioned above (magic studies, lance board, etc) his heart is 100% dedicated TO YOU, and you alone. So on those rare occasions after a fight has occurred, it does not take long for him to come down from the heat of the moment and realize, oh, hells, he’s been an ass, hasn’t he?

He knows you love him. His anxiety about not being enough for you has long since disappeared, and he’s calmed his worries that you would ever leave him, but still…there’s always a lingering concern that maybe you’ll grow distant from him after an argument.

If you are in the wrong and he is certain of it, he will be stiffly polite until you offer an apology, and then he will be taking you in his arms, kissing you passionately and telling you ‘all is forgiven my love, let’s never speak of this again’ (and trying hard to hide his relief that you apologized first, because he was not sure how long he would be able to hold out and stay mad at you.)

If HE is in the wrong, though? And you are truly mad at him? And he knows he really stuck his foot in it? Oh, boy.

You’ll be treated to an apology so eloquent it would make poets weep, and it will come packaged with hand-holding, pouting, pleading, and Gale getting down on his (bad) knees.

And if you’re still mad at him after that?

Well, then you’ll have to complete a gauntlet harder than anything Shar could ever throw at you. You’ll have to try and stay angry, explain your anger, AND explain to Gale why he won’t be easily forgiven, all while looking directly at this:

And this:

AND THIS:

…

…needless to say you will be failing, and hard.

Not that you mind, because the make-up sex will be absolutely phenomenal. Gale doesn’t just want to repair your loving bond after you’ve had an argument, he wants to improve it. Which requires much study and experimentation, of course.

And for awhile afterwards, all will be bliss again.

…until you find a pile of scrolls shoved under your side of the bed, and some open books scattered across your dresser, and you decide it time to do some organizing. ———

So yes, my friend. Gale definitely does have some flaws, and at some point they WOULD drive you crazy in any sort of relationship you have with him. Gale is wonderful, Gale is loving, but Gale isn’t perfect!!

…but when he takes you in his arms after you’ve made up, and his mouth is hungrily devouring yours, and he’s murmuring words of adoration against your skin as he trails his kisses down your neck, chest, hips—

Nevermind! I take it all back. He’s perfect. 😂

[communistkenobi]

something I’ve been thinking about is like, the internet is this magical system of technologies, never before seen in human history, and one of its capabilities is to answer virtually any question you ask of it. Which is not even remotely a novel observation obviously lol. But I’m thinking about this in the context of a point that Adorno & Horkheimer made (in The Culture Industry I think?) about the radio: that to expedience the radio, to live in a social context where there is this vast incomprehensible system of technological infrastructure that you do not understand or control, and which allows you, a mere peasant, to listen to news broadcasts, music, and advertisements, is effectively like listening to the voice of god. Like the average person’s relationship to modern telecommunications is so mystifying, incomprehensible, and abstract that we experience technologies like the radio as an all-powerful, indestructible authority, and this (obviously) shapes our relationship to the information that is shared through it. People make jokes on here about how transmission towers are angels, but like tbh that is essentially how we experience them - vast, incomprehensible, highly dangerous objects whose impact on our lives are at once all-consuming and unknowable. We do not just turn on the radio and listen to the news, we tune into what the voice of god has to say today - right now he’s selling toilet cleanser!

and all that to say, I always find something a bit incomplete about discussions about wilful ignorance online - that we live in an age of mass information and yet people still seem as ignorant as feudal peasants, or whatever. Nobody googles things, nobody tries to branch out and experience new kinds of art, nobody educates themselves on important topics they don’t understand. and like this frustration is very real and well taken, I feel it frequently, but what I’m grappling with is whether this is the correct framing - that maybe “why don’t people just google things” is the wrong question to ask, because I tend to find the explanations offered unsatisfactory. Like specifically I’m thinking of discussions on here that are about like, “anti-intellectualism”, kids these days are so ignorant even though they grew up with the internet, reading comprehension is piss poor, and so on. Recently I’ve seen a lot of weirdly moral-panicky posts about children not knowing how to type on computers because back in my day we were forced to learn how to touch-type by age 8 even though we couldn’t look up any tutorials on YouTube to help us, etc etc. And like I just do not buy that people are individually choosing to be ignorant, that people are “getting dumber,” and that this state of getting dumber is inversely related to the amount of information we have access to (which makes “getting dumber” even more dumb). An unstated assumption that goes into a lot of these “anti-intellectualism” discussions is that “information” is this universal object that has a standardised enlightening effect on the people who interact with it - that the only reason to have an ignorant, sheltered, or ill-formed opinion on something is because you have individually chosen not to Look At Information that will cure you of your ignorance. And so going back to the god radio thing, having regular access to the google search bar is not just having access to an encyclopaedia or dictionary - it is like having a direct line of communication to god, this authority that can answer any question you ask of it. But it’s not just one answer, it’s many answers, more answers than you could ever possibly read through. Google reports the number of hits it returns for whatever you type in - you will regularly get millions of answers to your question. And these answers are embedded with advertisements, just as radio news broadcasts are. Like if god is selling you toilet cleanser while telling you the number for a suicide hotline or news about what’s happening in the world, how do you psychologically deal with that, how is your relationship to capital-I Information shaped by this relationship?

The corollary to “we live in an age of mass information” is “we live in an age of mass misinformation,” but they both show up as answers on google (again, not a novel observation). but in the face of that how do you not simply stop asking questions? & of course this decision to stop asking questions is given form and substance by social circumstance, it reinforces systemic privileges and violences, and so this decision is not one free from consequence, and in many cases it is not an innocent decision. a white person deciding not to read the news because it’s too hard to figure out what is happening/too frightening/etc has the consequence of reinforcing the white supremacist outlook that is foundational to the social context of white people because they’re not reading anything that challenges that outlook. ignorance has many social contexts and many of them are violent. etc. like the consequence of “why does nobody google anything” is just a continuation of the status quo, just with this supposedly glaring and easy fix to it (simply google it). but that just leads us back to a discourse of individual choice, of people individually choosing not to “google shit.” it is a deeply individual fix to a systematic social problem. and so maybe the question is not, why doesn’t anyone google shit, but rather, why is the primary delivery system of knowledge a god that sells you toilet cleanser 

[gublersg1rl]

cw: feminism rant, smut, sex, misogyny, porn etcetc

note: i’m not the best writer or very articulate… and i’m dyslexic LOL i hope this is understandable it’s kinda all over the place i fear

Once, I saw a woman on Instagram criticizing the porn industry, and I immediately knew there would be some man in the comments getting defensive. What I didn't expect to see was a man who wrote, "Women criticize porn as if they don't write about having sex with fictional men."

As someone who despises the porn industry but actively reads smut, id argue that women writing smut is a direct effect of the ways porn has impacted women's sexual expression.

Why do women choose to sexually express themselves through fictional characters and celebrities? If a teenage boy wants to have sex, he's just being a boy. If a teenage girl wanted to have sex, something had to have happened to her. That's concerning. Men can have a lot of sex. He's a man. Of course, he's going to want to have sex. Women can't have sex; women having sex is slutty. Nobody likes a whore. Blowjobs? That's normal. Eating a girl out? Don't be gross. Thats disgusting. Women can't sexually express themselves without being judged in society, but you know who won't judge them? People they understand they have no chance with, like celebrities and fictional characters. This is why a lot of queer men also partake in "fangirl" culture because queer sexual expression is also shunned in society, so there has to be some sort of outlet.

This brings me to my next topic, the difference between porn and smut. They're not different in the way porn was made for men by men and smut was made for women by women. If I went on pornhub, the first thing ill see is, "Big tits virgin teen girl gets choked out by massive 10-inch cock." Women aren't equal to men in porn. Porn makes women objects; in porn, women's sexuality does not exist. Women don't have sexual needs outside of what the man wants. Once, I heard someone say, "In a pornsick culture, women don't have sex; they perform it." Meanwhile, in smut, it's the opposite. Even if the writer is writing with sub and dom dynamics typically, there will always be an underlying sense of trust, with moments of obvious consent, whether that is verbal, a touch, or a glance.

This isn't to say women don't write about rough sex. They do. There are so many fics that involve extreme kink aspects, but more times than not, there will be that trust and consent.

But what if there's not? I've seen it. if you read smut, you've probably seen questionable tags, too. It's important to mention that just because mostly women write smut, there are straight men who do it, too. I've read smut, which was painfully obvious it was written by a man. That being said, women also write questionable... smut. Going back to my most recent statement, women are shown and taught that they are objects. So it's not completely absurd to say you will find smut written by women that objectifies them; when you condition someone to an idea, it's hard to unlearn that. It's hard to understand sexuality as a woman when society is telling you not to be slutty but to also submit and to perform for a man and his sexual needs because in a man's world, his sexual needs, by default, are your sexual needs.

Is smut damaging to women? Well, I'm not a psychologist. I'm just a nineteen year old girl who likes to read smut about Spencer Reid and is also a feminist. So, I do not know how qualified I am to answer this question, but what I will say is I think that as long as women are not writing smut and portraying themselves as sexual beings living for the sole purpose of men.... smut is a perfectly healthy way to express sexuality :) all in all porn is fucking scary, and so is men and sex and being intimate it’s all really scary but smut is an easy way to express your sexuality in a safe anonymous space.

[bob-artist]

Just found you via your funny dream comic. Good stuff 😆. Definitely gonna read the rest, and I was surprised you had your own website. Looks good on mobile too. I’ve got a comic that some friends keep trying to build me a site for but I’ve been telling them no because it seems like between webtoon and social media nobody is interested in personal sites anymore.

Have you noticed an uptick in engagement from your site? Would you recommend going that route? I’d like to hear your thoughts.

I’m also interested in how you decided to build/host it, if that question isn’t too lame.

Anyway, glad I found your comics!

Ah thank you for checking out Into the Smoke's website!!

Oh, I have SO many thoughts about independent webcomic sites and why people should have them. I have so many thoughts, and I'm so so sorry.

Why did I decide to have my own webcomic site?

First of all, this is not a lame question and I wish we could all have this conversation more often, so I could maybe write just a paragraph instead of this whole dissertation!

1. Because I lived through webcomics history.

I launched my first webcomic in 2011. I watched the webcomics scene shift over the years from self-hosted sites to third party sites, and I saw what it meant for independent creators. We lost vital infrastructure, relationships, habits, and control over our own work. I think self-hosted sites are an important backbone for creators, even if/when their largest *numbers* come from a third party site.

We’re all supposed to be helping each other, not fighting each other to satisfy the algorithm. Our early tools (webrings, link trades, comic databases, sharing each other’s posts) were small but meaningful, and they also helped us maintain a community mindset in a long and sometimes lonely line of work. When we started leaning on hosting sites, we let a lot of those tools and relationships decay. And now a lot of people are locked into imbalanced relationships with hosting sites that leave them with very little agency and control over their work and how it’s shared (or isn’t shared).

Hosting sites are great for removing barriers to entry (cost/time to build a site). And a lot of them have large built-in audiences. But the big ones aren’t run by people who care about creators. They’re designed to extract the maximum value from your work while giving you the least they can get away with. Use them if you want (I do), but don't be dependent on them.

2. Comics are the main thing I do for a living, and a website gives me the tools to promote my work and build relationships with my readers.

Most apps and third party sites actively prevent or suppress these things. On your own site, you can share all the info you want about your upcoming Kickstarter, your tradpub book release, your merch, etc. You can collect email addresses for your newsletter. You can literally just talk about your weekend, and you’re not gonna have a 150-character limit.

Yeah, not everyone wants to read a wall of text (ha ha...), but acting like a person reminds readers to treat you like a person. This is one of my main gripes with the apps and social media - they suppress human connection and present you like a cog in their machine that only exists to churn out free content.

3. I have a consistent home base and full control over how my work is displayed.

I don’t have to fight against an app that’s trying to direct my readers toward whichever content is most profitable for them. On an app, the readers “belong” to them, not you. (Who has their email addresses?) So if I'm putting effort into promoting my comic, I'm promoting my own site. (oh look, I just did it.)

Hosting sites/apps aren't designed to showcase your work. They showcase the app’s collection, and they're designed to keep readers on the app, jumping from creator to creator. This can help readers find you, but it also devalues your work and dilutes its impact.

And the app might not show your work to anyone anyway. Tapas is a great example; they recently redesigned their site to prioritize their Originals, and independent creators are hidden away in a “community” tab with barely any discoverability anymore. This is always the struggle on a third party site.

4. I hate censorship.

Into the Smoke is Teen 16/17+ and Demon of the Underground is R/18+. My comics aren’t even explicit, but I still can’t post my true, uncensored vision for either story on third party apps governed by Apple’s App Store and Visa/Mastercard’s tight content restrictions.

If webcomics exist exclusively on apps with heavy censorship, we’ll never have the diversity of storytelling and freedom of expression that’s necessary for groundbreaking or subversive art to happen. And that’s bad for everyone.

Adult brains need to engage with adult concepts. Difficult and triggering topics need to be explored in creative spaces. Artists need freedom to stretch their creative muscles without falling into the damaging patterns of self-censorship that come from having to tiptoe around arbitrary platform rules.

We can’t let the rules of like 3 American companies dictate what every webcomic reader around the world is allowed to read.

5. An independent website can’t easily be taken away from you.

Just make regular backups! You can always move to a new web host and redirect URLs if needed, and you won't lose your readers. On the other hand, you can easily lose the bulk of your audience on a third party site based on circumstances outside your control.

Let’s talk about Smack Jeeves, a formerly popular webcomic hosting site that was bought out and then shut down, leaving lots of cartoonists homeless. Or we can talk about the Tumblr NSFW purge of 2018, where I lost a huge chunk of my first webcomic’s following and most of my webcomic mutuals, even though my own account stayed within the rules. Or Musk buying Twitter, the platform where I once found my literary agent through a publishing event but now get no traction at all.

Have I noticed an uptick in engagement from my site?

I don’t have analytics on my site yet. But, up until a few days ago, that's where people were reading, thanks to my own efforts and the support of my comics friends and all of y’all who shared my ITS posts. (THANK YOU ALL!) I didn't have any discoverability on Webtoon or Tapas yet.

I got 10-15 new patrons between May 25 and June 5. Up until a few days ago, I even had more ITS newsletter subscribers than Webtoon subscribers.

What happened a few days ago is my Webtoon mirror suddenly blew up with 100+ new subs a day. I don’t know where I’m being featured, but I know I’m only getting those readers because Webtoon suddenly chose to grant me visibility. That can end just as instantly with an algorithm tweak or them deciding not to show my comic anymore. (When my first webcomic was in one of their pay programs in 2018, I went from $300 or $400/month to $0 overnight due to a policy change.) So I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, but I won't de-prioritize my website.

The new Webtoon readers are awesome and supportive, and I’m 100% thrilled to have them. But the Webtoon influx isn't resulting in a Patreon influx like my website launch did. I wouldn't expect it to, this early in the story. But it's consistent with my past experience polling my patrons: even when 50% of my readers came from the apps, 90% of patrons read on my website. (Your audience may vary.) And since I depend on crowdfunding for my comic, that's important to me.

Would I recommend going the route of having your own site?

For anyone who’s just testing the waters with webcomics, it might be overkill.

But for anyone who’s committed to their webcomic, I recommend having your own site AND mirroring on every third party site you can, provided you’re cool with their terms of service. It's important to meet readers where they are. Let those hosting sites lend you their readers. Some readers will even want to visit your home site where they can read ahead, read the uncensored version of your comic, get more info, or sign up for your newsletter.

Just remember, no one will discover your independent website all on their own. They’ll only find it through the work you put into promotion. But the reader that cares enough to come to your home site is a special type of reader.

So how do you get readers to visit an independent webcomic site?

Find your allies

These are people who work in similar areas as you who want to help you succeed, and whom you want to help succeed. Chat with each other, help each other, promote each other, boost each other, link to each other (psst, my links page just went live!), be there for each other - behind the scenes and in public.

God, I am SO bad at approaching people, but this is important, and not just for comics.

Be part of a community

Really, this is an extension of the above point. It's easier to find your allies if you're part of a community.

I’m a member of the Cartoonist Cooperative, and they’re a GREAT group of talented people all across the comics industry. The mission of @cartoonistcoop is to help create better conditions for comic workers through cooperation and collective action, and I’ve found so much help from them with Into the Smoke and comics as a whole. (JOIN! They're great!!)

The goal of the co-op isn't to drive traffic to your website. But being part of it has helped me at every level of crafting my comic, including promoting it and making it good enough that I can take pride in promoting it. And it's helped me ground myself as part of a community after I lost so much of mine in past years of burnout and platform enshittification.

Another option: @spiderforestcomics is a great webcomic collective full of supportive creators, and I believe they’re open to submissions till the end of June! They also have an awesome collaborative community mindset, and I've known some of their members for years.

Direct readers to your RSS feed and newsletter

Getting readers to your website is great, but they need to keep coming back for future updates, and it’s hard to remind them without an app notification. You may need to teach younger readers what RSS feeds are. Inoreader is a great RSS reader for the 2024 era.

The dreaded SEO

That’s Search Engine Optimization - optimizing your website so that people can easily find your comic via search engines. That’s a topic for another day, but feel free to research it!

Paid promo

This can be tricky, and I really only recommend spending promo money if you’re making a comic on a professional basis, because then it’s an investment you'll make back.

That said, Comicad.net is a great independent site where you can buy banner slots on other creators’ sites. I just ran small campaign myself. (And no, I won’t ever be offended if you outbid me!)

I haven’t bought any Tumblr Blaze slots, but I got BOPPed (blaze other people’s posts; apparently that’s what it’s called, lol) once on this account and once on a side blog, and both were highly impactful. (Thanks, friend!!) So I consider it a solid option, and it looks really cheap compared to other social media sites. (Never trust Meta.)

And where can you learn more about building a webcomic site?

I know you didn't ask, but if I'm gonna share all this, I might as well give folks a starting place to actually do the thing.

Now, I’m *bad* at offering cheap and easy web solutions. My specialty is hard and expensive. But my one piece of advice: PLEASE make your webcomic site mobile friendly for the current generation of readers! When we talk about barriers to entry, remember that more people have phones than computers, and many can't afford computers.

Anyway, here's some webcomic website resources from OTHER people!

The Cartoonist Co-op has LOTS of great resources on building webcomic sites! Several of them! Check them all out!

@screentonescast has a podcast episode on webcomic web design and one on RSS feeds!

@jeypawlik also has a great comic about how RSS feeds work.

So, congrats if you made it this far. Go make a website, y'all! And if you read any indie comics, go visit the creator's website!

[yanderestarangel]

୨♡୧ 𝐍𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 | 𝐁𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ୨♡୧

TW: angst, daddy issues, daddykink, praise kink, slight smut, gn reader, description of mental suffering, unreliable narrator.

Inspirations - "Daddy issues" the neighborhood and "the crow" by Edgar Allan Poe.

Bi Han was always your safe haven, the man who, despite being cold and harsh, managed to leave you well in his hands, the walks outside in the gardens, at sunset with the cool breeze of air on the two of you's sweaty skin, after an exercise from the Liu Kuei clan. The lights mixed incessantly with the desire for a new day, a new day that you could be in Bi Han's arms again, in a more intimate way, like a lover, like his odyssey.

The grand master, so feared by everyone, was a man who welcomed you in the worst moments, giving you the pleasure of being truly accepted by someone in such a cruel and empty reality, he was your master, your teacher, but also your friend , your man, your impossible passion.

Bi Han always found your eyes reflected by an impossible connection for several reasons of unfortunate fate, one of them being his position as grand master, he was and had to be a serious man and older than you, even though you two were adults he I just knew I wasn't good enough for you.

So many nights you ran, with sore, cut feet across the steep forest floor with tears in your eyes towards Bi Han's house, he was already waiting for you at the door, he knew your problems. His muscular and slightly cold arms surrounded you, a chaste and long kiss was received by the older man's lips.

"-Go ahead and cry, little boy/girl, nobody does it like you do, I know how much it matters to you. I know that you got issues." -Bi Han spoke with a deep and calm voice, a side that only you knew existed, as he ran his hand through your hair, your tears fell on his arm, salting his skin, but he didn't care what mattered was you, in that At the moment it was just you and him in everyone.

"-And if you were my little boy/girl, I'd do whatever I could do... I'd run away and hide with you.." -He whispered in your ear, an impossible promise, an empty truth, a sweet lie, but you needed sweet things and even though it was impossible you wanted to believe, to cling to a reality that you and Bi Han were more than just grand master and ninja apprentice.

It wasn't impossible to deny the exchange of looks between you, every touch, every caress wasn't a secret, but no one would dare question the nature of the two of you. The nights lying beneath him, with Bi Han's silky black hair falling over his face, his skin reflected in the moon.

"-Are you okay to continue?"

"-You're doing so well"

"-Those are such pretty sounds."

"-One more for me, you've done such a good job for me."

"-I think if you beg a little more sweetly, I might be convinced."

"-You open up so nice for me."

"-You look so silly and cute squirming like that."

"-I really want to spend my entire life by your side (Y/N)" - Bi Han spoke in a hoarse tone, grotesque moans, louder than the eternal evil of greed in his own mind, sickened by the thirst for power, you knew, you always knew he was a broken man but those moments of lustful voluptuousness, lying in the soft, gentle bed of your hidden lover. The moon was the only witness to such feats of the intimate encounter between the two of you.

But that didn't last long.

Bi Han broke, you could be his love, his refuge of peace, the hope of an empirical and silent future, unique and direct days, lost in a dismal space deep in the soul and mind of your former lover, he betrayed his brothers, he sought the power he so desired, you were now seen as weak, an obstacle for him.

Nothing else was important to him at that moment, the pain of immortal longing, the emptiness in his cold chest and his heart beating faster with each memory of you, sitting in his solitude, the fortress that surrounded him, echoed, seized the feeling of having you and understand the love and passion that was lost in the mortal days, where Bi Han's war for power made you turn away from him.

You sent letters and everything you could, trying to communicate with him, but no response, no sign of life in your love. Then, you saw him later, married to a powerful woman, who was going to help him make the new Liu Kuei clan strong, you were in shock, but you just walked past him, saying...

"-Nevermore."

He would never forget your words.

Bi Han, found sitting at rest, in vain, the quiet of his thoughts, the soft thought of your name echoed in his chest. "-(Y/N)." such a name, which he will never forget.

The snow and wind breached the open windows, entering the room unceremoniously, then a familiar voice whispered in the night along with the cold wind.

"-Nevermore."

Bi Han trembled, his legs slowly gave out, he had lost everything, he wanted you again, but it was just a projection of guilt, the punishment of fate for leaving you, even though he was meditating, waiting, conjecturing, your voice didn't stop , taking away the balm of little peace pretended and created, in a lie of power and conquest that he lived.

He whispered your name, letting it echo through the dimly lit room, the pain of guilt, the pain of having lost you, the pain of having thrown away a future with you left his soul in an eternal cry of regret and suffering, never calmed by these immortal hours.

The Time continued, his life passed, but without you, it was like claws opening his chest, a pain that was already raw, and remembering your words he understood, he would never have you back.

[mrspasser]

I saw you on the train - Sterek Fanfic

Sterek fanfiction, shamelessly based on this Tumblr post by @tsaiko. (OP, please let me know if I overstepped!) This is also on A03.

I saw you on the train

Derek gets on the subway after work, mentally bracing himself for having to deal with people because he didn’t charge his phone last night. Or he did, but his pup chewed through his charger cable and he frankly didn’t notice the nearly empty battery until he was already at the office. Any other day he loves his old brick of a phone, but today it was a bit of a bother that nobody had a charger that he could borrow. Ergo, he has no music to drone out the conversations of the other passengers.

He makes his way a little down the train car and sits down in an open seat. Across the aisle and one seat down are two men, mid to late twenties. They’re having one of those whisper-shout conversations with each other, where the words at the end of each sentence get louder with their anger, before they remind themselves that they are in public and go back to furious whispering. Derek can tell they are trying to be quiet, but emotions are high. Things are tense between them, it’s obvious within a few minutes of involuntary eavesdropping.

He knows he should try to ignore them, but it’s pretty hard to do. They’re in Derek’s direct line of sight and one of them has the most mesmerising whiskey coloured eyes he has ever seen. Right now, the lines around the young man’s eyes are hard and stressed, yet Derek can imagine the twinkle that would be there when he’s in better spirits. It fits the slight uptick of his nose. Somehow he just knows the guy can be a nuisance in all the best ways. He has an expressive face, which makes him far more interesting to Derek than his more generically handsome partner, who has neatly styled brown hair and blue eyes.

It’s an easy guess that the two of them are in a relationship, even though the expected easy chemistry is missing. But there aren’t many people that would be fighting in public, except when they’re in a close, intimate relationship. It’s a bit odd that they chose to have a discussion about the future of their relationship on the subway during rush hour, but whatever, they probably had a head of steam up on this topic. 

It's a relationship drama that doesn’t involve Derek, yet he’s kind of forced to listen to it as one of the few people without headphones in the direct vicinity. There’s an older woman that glances curiously in the direction of the two men every now and then, but she’s reading a travel guide in a language that Derek can’t place, so chances are her English isn’t good enough to know what the two are talking about. 

The gist of their discussion is that the one with the blue eyes wants to move forward with their relationship, maybe move in together, while Whiskey Eyes wants to slow down. Suddenly, Mr. Generic breaks in with a story about how his mom hates the city, but she moved to New York to stay with his dad and has lived there for twenty years now. And then he actually says the words: “Because relationships are about sacrifices.”

Whiskey Eyes looks like he wants to argue that point - which Derek can understand - yet he decides to follow his boyfriend’s reasoning. “And what have you sacrificed for our relationship?”

The barely hidden sarcasm in the question is apparently lost on Mr. Generic, because he has the audacity to come up with something or other he missed out on because he went with his boyfriend to a wedding. “We flew all the way back to California for your step brother’s wedding. I even had to sleep on the floor of your childhood bedroom!”

Like Derek, Whiskey Eyes is totally unimpressed with that answer and even rolls his eyes. Of course, his boyfriend doesn’t like that and their whispered argument continues. Derek can’t exactly hear what they’re saying, though it’s apparent that things aren’t getting better. Then, in a voice clear as day, Whiskey Eyes asks: “Name one thing I’m interested in.”

Mr. Generic freezes. He does a pretty decent impression of a store mannequin, with the vacant expression and the empty eyes. Derek can almost hear the dial tone coming from his brain. It’s clear that he can’t come up with a single thing that his boyfriend likes. On top of that, he looks confused as to why he’s even asked that question.

Things are quiet after that. The boyfriend tries to talk to Whiskey Eyes a couple of times, but he ignores him and just stares straight ahead. There’s a grim expression on his face, his jaws clenched. Still, the boyfriend doesn’t seem to understand the trouble he got himself in. 

The train pulls up at the station, Derek’s stop, and Whiskey Eyes gets up. “Baby?” Mr. Generic frowns at his partner. “This isn’t our stop.”

Whiskey Eyes gives him a cold glance. “It’s my stop now.” The doors open and he walks out. Just fucking walks off and leaves him on the train. 

Derek almost forgets to get off himself, he gets out just before the doors close. The boyfriend comes to his senses too and he jostles roughly past Derek in his hurry to go after his partner. Or ex-partner, probably. Because Derek sincerely doubts he can recover from that. He almost feels bad for the idiot. Or not, since the contents of Derek’s messenger bag go sprawling across the platform because of his rude shoulder check. 

The platform of the small station empties out quickly, leaving Derek to pick up the notes that spilled from their folder. When he looks up, still on one knee and with his papers in hand, he sees the couple from the train. They’re standing halfway between Derek and the exit and he’s just in time to see Whiskey Eyes pull his arm loose from Mr. Generic’s grip. Their voices echo in the empty station.

“We are through, Matt. I should’ve realised before that it wouldn’t work out, this thing between us.” Whiskey Eyes gestures angrily between them. “If there ever was a thing, because I’m starting to think I was the only one who was really invested.” 

Mr. Generic - Matt - scoffs. “You’re overreacting. And for what? Just because I couldn’t remember the name of your favourite movie from the top of my head? It’s Star Track, or something.”

“Star Trek,” Whiskey Eyes corrects, emphasising the last word. “And my favourite is Star Wars, not Star Trek.” He looks like he’s completely done with his ex-boyfriend’s bullshit. “Good bye, Matt. I’ll ask Lydia to pick up my stuff from your place later. Don’t follow me please.” He turns on his heel and walks to the stairs. 

“Baby…” The now definitely ex-boyfriend tries to keep up with him, but he’s quickly shot down.

“Don’t follow me.” The words are cold and clipped, making the ex-boyfriend stop in his tracks and just watch Whiskey Eyes disappear up the stairs.

Derek briefly makes eye contact with the asshole ex-boyfriend as he too makes his way to the exit. The man ignores him, mumbling something about ‘stupid nerd shit’ as he fumbles his phone from his pocket and simultaneously checks the board for the next train.

Yeah, Derek doesn’t feel sorry for him.

He does feel sorry for the whiskey eyed young man he finds standing forlornly just outside the exit of the train station. The guy just looks so lost that Derek can’t help but go up to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, startling the other.

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Whiskey Eyes hurries to say. Then he looks around him and huffs a small, sad laugh. “Actually, I’m not. I don’t have a clue where I am and I just realised that I left my keys at home and my roommate won’t be home until late tonight.” 

“Shitty day, huh?” Derek remarks, showing him a sympathetic smile. 

“You can say that again,” is the blunt answer. It sounds almost rude, though it’s followed by a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I mean, I didn’t want to…” Derek isn’t really sure what he’s apologising for and neither seems he. “Sorry. Again. You caught me at a bad time. I just broke up with my… Well, my ex-boyfriend now.”

“I know,” Derek answers and he winces, because it’s clear he was listening in to things that were none of his business. “I mean,” he tries to course correct, “I couldn’t help but overhear. I was on the train too.” 

“You were?” Whiskey Eyes blushes a delicious shade of red. “Fuck. That’s embarrassing.” 

“Nah.” Derek shrugs. “If anything, he’s the one who should be ashamed. Like, who doesn’t know Star Trek apart from Star Wars?”

“I know, right?” He’s still blushing, but it goes well with his smile. 

Derek usually isn’t this forward with strangers, but right now he feels like taking a chance. He could be mistaken, but he doesn’t think he is, not with the shy way Whiskey Eyes is rubbing the back of his neck. So he asks: “Would you like to get something to eat? I’m on my way home and I was planning to get some take out, but if you want, we can go grab a bite together?” 

“Uh, sure!” Whiskey Eyes is only a bit taken aback by his question and seems eager to distract himself from the situation from earlier. “Yeah, why not? I have to wait until my roommate gets home anyway.” Then he holds out his hand. “I’m Stiles, by the way.” 

“Derek.” He takes his hand and is pleased to find it warm and firm. “How do you feel about Thai food?” 

They settle down in the window seat of the small Thai place a block or so from Derek’s home. Stiles declares it the best Tom Kha Kai he has ever had and they discover that they’re born in the same county in California. Derek’s family moved out when he was about twelve years old, yet Stiles’ father still lives there. And so does his recently married step brother.

Conversation flows easily and Derek is happy to discover that Stiles indeed has a very appealing sparkle in his eyes when he’s amused. 

Four months later, they kiss for the first time. Another four months later he finds himself lying on a thin camping mattress on the floor of Stiles’ childhood bedroom. There’s a large Star Wars poster above the bed, with the letters of the opening crawl. Glow in the dark stars that have long lost their shine dot the ceiling. 

A little above him, Stiles rolls so he can look down over the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry my bed is so tiny,” he whispers. “Are you sure you’re okay down there? We can switch!”

Derek catches the hand Stiles extends to him and presses his lips to the knuckles. “I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s just for a couple of nights anyway.”

Stiles smiles fondly at him. “Okay, if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure,” Derek nods. He presses another kiss to the back of Stiles’ hand. “Now go to sleep, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Stiles yawns and nods. As only son and best man he’s invested in making his father’s wedding day a success. “You really don’t think he’d let me walk him down the aisle?” 

Derek chuckles quietly. They’ve been over this before. “Just leave that part to Scott and his mom. Don’t steal their thunder.” 

“Right.” Stiles caresses the side of Derek’s face one last time and then tucks his arm back underneath his blanket. “Good night, Der. Love you.” 

“I love you too. Good night.”

[adventuringblind]

Hear me out father Toto, daughter gets very angry over a decision he made without her permission and she gets revenge by asking max (secret boyfriend) to kiss her in front of him when he won the race (maybe they hug and max makes direct eye contact with Toto when he kissed her neck) plus angry father Toto is funny 🙃 plus your writing is amazing ❤️

Revenge

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: idk angst? Fluff? Crack?

Summary: Toto tries to set his daughter up in an arranged marriage… it doesn’t go according to plan.

Warnings: angry Toto, kissing, arranged marriage, Max is all to happy to make out with her in public

Notes: I had way to much fun with this.

Masterlist

“You what?!” She screams. “You can’t just tell someone I’ll marry them! Have you considered my feeling in all of this.” She unceremoniously rakes a hand through her hair.

Toto simply leans back in his chair. “We need this-“

“No, you need this! Not me!”

She storms out of her fathers office. She can hear him hitting his hand on the desk as she goes. Something passes through her mind that maybe breaking his hand would get him to treat the furniture better.

She storms off past everyone. Nobody stops her as she goes. Her destination? The Redbull garage to see Max, her current boyfriend. The one she’s been with for a couple of years now.

She’s angry and determined to get back at her father for even suggesting such a thing. She slips into Christian's office and shuts the door behind her. He looks startled, but definitely not surprised.

"Finally decide to switch teams?"

She turns her head and runs a frantic hand through her hair. "Yeah... I need to ask a favor of you and Max."

"I'm hoping it's something petty because you look like you're upset, and I love making Toto angry."

~

The next race weekend goes according to plan. The plan being that Max wins. Which he had once again done flawlessly like so much of the 2023 season.

Christian, as best as he can manage, sneaks her and himself up in front of the Redbull team so Max has a clear line of sight. The Dutch had been the one to come up with this plan, and Christian wanted to be as petty as possible.

Ger original plan was just to hard launch her relationship with Max. Then the Dutch told her this was much better and would definitely get the point across. Which she can't help but agree with.

Max parks the car in the number one spot, then goes and gets weighed, taking his helmet off as he goes. Everyone eyes him skeptically because this was not his order of doing things. Max always, without fail, greeted the team first.

Her and Christian make it to the front, and She makes sure Max can see her. Something in her is giddy and blushing. Like she's a schoolgirl admitting she has a crush.

Max makes a beeline for her. Helmet off. Hair disheveled, cheeks flushed from the heat of the race. It's very attractive. Enough so to make her forget why she's even doing this in the first place.

There is no hesitation. Only love and adoration in his eyes as he approaches. All smiles and love. He cups her cheeks and crashes their lips together.

It's warm and wet and so confidence filled. Like he's claiming her for the world to see. And it's definitely longer then it needs to be.

They get questions about it afterward. That's what the entirety of the press conference is. She gets stopped by far too many reporters.

She runs into the Mercedes hospitality to grab her things before she leaves with Max. Toto stands there waiting for her. He's seething; red in anger. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Kissed my boyfriend of two years?"

"You've cost me a major sponsor!"

"And that sounds like a you problem."

Max jogs into the entrance and looks between the two having a stare off. "Sorry about that, Mr. Wolff. Didn't want you marrying off the love of my life."

Toto slams his hand on the table so hard that it knocks the piece of furniture over. He reals backward and clutches his hand against his chest.

"Serves you right for abusing the furniture!" She slides past Toto and grabs her things before taking Max's hand in her own. "Now if you'll excuse me, I will be going home with Max."

Her and Max spare one last glance at Toto, burning the image of him raging over their partnership before leaving. Maybe being petty is fun sometimes.