#and this year i’m not at work because i don’t have a job because i quit 🤡

[ghcstao3]

AU where ghost is a relatively famous voice actor—by name, anyway. he’s never shown his face in those ‘behind-the-scenes’ videos, doesn’t do red carpets for the bigger productions, always leaves the press junkets to his colleagues. he loves his job, don’t get him wrong, it’s fun and creative and he’s met some really great people, he just… has never wanted to be in the limelight. that’s not for him.

and it’s easy to get away with, because all of the voices he uses are not really his. there’s elements of him, sure, but nothing someone in person could necessarily place, unless they really listened close and were some kind of super fan. in real life, ghost is soft spoken, and maybe his voice is a little rough from the years before he learned how to properly take care of his vocal cords, but it’s still completely separate from all his characters. that was a rule he stuck with throughout his career—no using his real voice.

soap likes to consider himself a fan of simon riley.

(of his work, obviously. just his work. he definitely isn’t intrigued or anything by the mystery that is the voice actor. nuh uh. not at all.)

he’s seen just about every film and show that features one of the actor’s many voices, knows what little trivia is known of him, and, ultimately, he really respects the guy. his younger sister had finally landed herself a sizeable role in voice acting pretty recently after years of odds and ends, and soap knows how difficult it is to make it in the industry. so what if he may also have a little bit of a crush on the unknown man’s talent?

and so what if that little crush has presently brought him to a bookstore, because soap had heard simon would be voicing a character in some adaptation and soap wanted to get himself caught up? it’s fine. it’s normal. totally normal.

it’s in search of the book when soap accidentally stumbles into an absolute brick-wall of a man as he rounds the corner. soap mutters out apologies, goes to move past him, but then looks up and melts, just a little. because it’s then that soap discovers the prettiest set of brown eyes he thinks he’s ever seen. and when his gaze briefly flicks down—he sees that the man is holding the book he’d been looking for.

soap grins, does his best to look charming in spite of the fact that he’d just run into this poor, beautiful bastard. “was lookin’ for that one, too.”

the man’s brow furrows in confusion before he realizes what soap had been referring to. his eyes fall almost self-consciously to the book.

“oh, yeah. it’s a good book. gave my nephew my other copy, so i’m just…” the man lifts the book in some helpless gesture.

“hm.” soap nods. he can’t help but notice how soothing the man’s voice is, low and rough around the edges, but completely soft in the middle. “y’hear they’re making a movie?”

the man perks up, and for a moment soap wonders if that’s panic he sees flash in his eyes. he clears his throat. “yes, that’s actually why i’m, well. i owned it before, but because i’m doing the—because of the movie, i had to…” the man sighs, shoulders slumping. it’s endearing, the way he’s gotten so easily flustered, like he isn’t used to small talk. “never mind. i’ll let you… i hope you enjoy it. the book. and movie too, i guess.”

soap laughs, not unkindly. “the book, we’ll see. favourite actor’s in the movie, so i’ll probably like it either way.”

“yeah?” the man cocks his head, curious. “who’s that?”

unashamedly, soap replies, “simon riley.”

it’s not unnoticeable, the way the man’s face blossoms a faint pink before he coughs and ducks his head. “he’s, uh. heard he’s good,” he says. “so others say.”

for a moment, it looks like the man is preparing to bolt, so soap sticks out his hand as a last-minute resort to keep him around just a little longer. “i’m john. friends call me soap. long story, but if you maybe let me take you out for some coffee, i could tell you?”

apprehension lines the man’s posture, but he eventually tucks the book under one arm and shakes soap’s hand. “friends call me ghost. and i’d like that.”

ghost’s hand is warm, his grip firm. soap tries not to let himself linger in the touch.

“sounds like a date.” soap smiles up at ghost. “did you want to do that today, or…?”

ghost shakes his head. “can’t today. but i can give you my number?”

soap agrees, but as he reaches for his phone he’s met with an empty pocket and the realization that he’d left it on the counter at home. he sighs, feeling disheartened, readying an excuse when he gets an idea. “d’you have a pen?”

ghost does, in fact, have a pen, though soap supposes he could’ve just gone and bought one from the bookstore just as well. soap tells him to stay put a minute, goes to retrieve his own copy of the book, and comes back with it opened to the first page.

“i’m buying it, anyway,” soap says. and it’s commemorative, he doesn’t add, of the day and reason we met. because he’s hopeful this may actually go somewhere.

ghost writes his phone number inside, deliberately hands the book back to soap with the cover pressed closed by his thumb, and they head to the register together.

it’s only when soap gets home and finally goes to type ghost’s number into his phone that he sees, above the digits, a small simon :) inscribed on the paper.

[hysteria-things]

Reverse countertop scenario where instead of you getting eaten out while seated on the countertop, Matt gets sucked off 🫣

TEMPTATION (part one)

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!matt x babysitter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: one heated moment crosses between you and forbidden desire.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, slight size kink if you squint, oral (male receiving), subtle face slapping (he taps her on the cheek once), praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,766

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first dilf!matt fic of the collection :D

you’ve met matt through one of your mom’s work friends, who was talking about how her son needed a babysitter because of how busy his work has gotten. against your will, your mother gave you the job, saying that it’ll be a fun and new experience.

because you like kids, you genuinely didn’t mind. you’ve only been nannying for a few weeks now, and the routine isn’t that bad.

you drive to his house every weekday, arriving at seven on the dot. you wake up his five-year-old daughter (who is already fond of you) and make her breakfast along with getting her ready to drop her off at school.

she’s a cutie who looks a lot like her father—with his blue eyes and brunette hair—but she has a bubblier personality and is much more talkative. on the other hand, matt keeps to himself, and rarely says more than three sentences to you: “good morning.” “don’t forget to pack her lunch.” “see you later.”

on this particular day, a couple of hours after dropping his little girl off, you realized you had forgotten something at matt’s house. cursing to yourself when you notice, you drive back to sleuth your way into grabbing what you left and leaving.

however, when you walk through the door, a familiar figure is kneeling in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos and grunting as he’s fixing something under the sink.

you pause, genuinely surprised. he always leaves for work when you arrive at his place at your scheduled time. today, he hid from you upstairs the whole morning that you didn’t even acknowledge he was home. you stare at the gruff thirty-year-old for a few beats, not knowing if you should make yourself known or just sneakily retrieve your item and head back out.

so, instead, you swallow a lump in your throat, and start walking slowly to the living room hoping he doesn’t notice you. with the short weeks that you’ve been working for him, you’ve always felt intimidated by his presence. matt doesn't immediately catch on, but as he listens to footsteps getting closer to him, he perks up. he turns around, just in time to see you starting to walk toward the living room.

he raises a brow, his arms now crossed. “i thought you left already.”

jolting from his voice, you turn around to see him still in the kitchen by the island, but he’s gotten closer to you. “i-i forgot my wallet.” you stutter, scratching the back of your neck. “i’m sorry. i’ll get out of your hair when i grab it, i just didn’t know you stayed home today.”

he eyes you, looking up and down in silence for a second. he lets out a groan, not exactly happy that you're back here, but he's not angry. just… annoyed. “when did you realize you forgot your wallet?”

your face burns up when he looks at you like that, his eyes mesmerizing but also frightening at the same time. your anxiety rushes through your veins, fingers playing with the necklace around your neck to try and calm your nerves.

he’s just so intimidating.

“after i dropped evelyn off at school, but i didn’t have time to grab it until now.” you start, trying to not sound shaky. “she had a rough morning getting ready today, so i was scattering my stuff everywhere trying to help her get back on her little feet. i’m sorry again. i’ll leave the moment i grab it.”

matt lets out a frustrated sigh when he hears about his daughter having a morning like that. “i thought i heard the commotion from upstairs…” he trails off. he takes a moment to breathe and to think, looking you up and down again, trying to figure out why you're shaking. “you're nervous.”

“it was a weird morning.” you still fiddle with your necklace. “other than her tantrum, she was good.”

a huff escapes from his nose, still looking at your figure as he thinks. you’re so damn small compared to him. it's almost adorable in a way he won't admit to himself. “she had a tantrum this morning? why? what started it?”

looking around the room, you shrug. “it was typical friday stuff.” you say, still nervous that you’re talking to matt rather than hearing three sentences from him. “she didn’t want to get out of bed, then she didn’t like the clothes i picked, whined about how she didn’t want to go to school, then she started crying when i carried her backpack to the car when she wanted to carry it.” you think back to this morning before continuing. “we were also running late and that makes my brain a mess, hence why i forgot my wallet, but after a small pep talk when i strapped her into her car seat, she got better.”

the man nods as you explain the events from earlier. you were pretty, in his opinion—he was looking at you from head to toe. a thought seems to hit him, and he bites the inside of his cheek. his next sentence comes out in a much more gruff tone. “come here.”

your eyes grow wide as you blink at him, your heart rate picking up from nerves. “w-what?” you stammer.

letting out a soft sigh, he repeats himself. “you heard me. come. here.”

when you slowly start to walk over to him, you rub the sweat from your palms onto your jeans. you don’t get too close, but you’re not too far, either. he watches as you walk over, his eyes not leaving your body. the thought that he could easily pick you up with one arm in an instant makes him laugh internally. you stop about a foot or so in front of him, standing there with wide eyes. “closer.”

you put your shaky hands behind your back, shuffling even closer to him with a million thoughts running through your brain. did you do something wrong with evelyn? did you forget something important that you needed to bring to school for her? are you going to be fired for forgetting your stupid wallet?

matt’s eyes dart all over your face as you step closer, his jaw clenching for a moment as his eyes linger on yours, then your hair, your nose, your mouth, then your body again. you are so small. it’s very clear with the way you’re shaking and the anxiety clear on your face that you are nervous. “closer.” he says again, his eyes flicking to your necklace for a moment.

smirk tugs at his lips as you step closer, his eyes locked onto you. you’re now standing directly in front of him as he leans on the counter, his height is much more intimidating up close, but you can’t make yourself pull away. it’s like he has a magnetic pull, causing you to stare at him with awe.

he watches your every move and the way you tremble. “you’re shaking.”

“i-i just want to grab my wallet. if i interrupted something important, i’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

the chuckle in his throat is ticklish as you struggle to get any words out. “take a deep breath. calm down.”

surprised by what he said, you somehow listen and take a couple of deep breaths. well, he is the father to a toddler, after all. you’re sure he deals with a lot of temper tantrums that involve guidance in breathing. after a few inhales and exhales, you calm down just a smidge. “i’m sorry.”

matt watches as you finally start calming down, a slight sense of satisfaction washing over him as you do. he’s not exactly sure why, but he liked watching your shaky body slowly come together again. “you don’t need to keep apologizing, y/n.”

“sorry.” you reply, mentally punching yourself in the face when you say the word. “it’s a habit.”

although, your name rolling off of his tongue has between your legs tingle, but you try to blink away the dirty thoughts and ignore it.

he scoffs. you are so damn polite; it’s almost cute. “stop apologizing.” he orders, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his brows furrowing as his thumb grazes your lip. “how old did you say you are again?”

your breath hitches when he touches you, but instead of backing away, you stay put. your lashes bat in his direction as he continues to rub on your bottom lip. “twenty-one.” you exhale, as if you were holding your breath this entire time.

“you’re such a pretty young thing.” he whispers, hand moving down to your throat as he gently kneads at the flesh. “you must be so innocent still.”

grunting when he squeezes at your neck, you subconsciously glance down at his groin, where you can see his growing hard-on. your eyes widen, chest heaving and licking your lips. the pooling in the middle of your thighs only escalates, clenching them together.

this is your boss, y/n. stop.

“do you trust me?” he blurts out, a smirk growing wider once he notices you staring. he has you right where he wants you: at his mercy.

“yes.” and that’s true.

he grabs your hips and pulls you closer, leaning into where your noses are touching. “lift your leg.”

complying, his hand reaches under your thigh when you raise your leg to rest on his hips. you gasp, feeling his bulge rub against your clothed clit. he grinds against you swiftly. “you feel that? that’s what you do to me; every single time i see you.”

“fuck.” you exhale, subconsciously rutting your hips more into him to feel more friction.

“dirty girl.” he whispers, one of his hands reaching up to squeeze your breast while the other that’s resting on your thigh moves to the waistband of your pants. “do you want me to touch you here?”

you throw your head back, nipples peeking at his touch. “please.”

matt groans, leaning down to nip at that spot below your ear. a high-pitched whine leaves your lips, his fingers slipping under your panties. the pad of his pointer rubs at your bud, and you moan softly. he keeps leaving wet kisses on your jaw, toying at your clit. “so fucking wet.”

you keep moaning, clenching around nothing when he plays with you faster. this plus the rubbing of his dick against you makes you want more, but you fight it off. he removes his hand after a few seconds, leaving you aching before bringing his fingers to his lips. he laps at your juices, humming approvingly.

then, his eyes darken, voice extra demanding. “get on your knees.”

while you’re getting on your knees, the pumping of your heart is the only thing you seem to hear, matt starting to unbuckle the belt of his jeans. as you patiently wait, he unloosens it and his pants drop to his ankles along with his boxers. your mouth waters at what’s in front of you, being put under matt’s make-believe spell. he’s big—really big—and you can’t help but stare at it longingly.

tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he smiles a genuine smile. “open your mouth; good girl.” he cups both of your cheeks, sliding his cock agonizingly slow between your lips. he lets out a long groan the more his inches fill your mouth until you gag once his tip nudges at the back of your throat.

“awe.” he coos, wiping some drool at the sides of your lips with his thumb. “that’s not even all of it.”

you bob your head, moaning around his length at how good he feels in your mouth. slurps and gags continue when you go faster.

he grunts and hisses at your sudden change of speed. “ah, slow, slow.” he fists your hair and taps you on the cheek, causing you to wince and stop. “i said slow.”

matt hasn’t had his dick sucked since his ex, which had to have been over a year ago. hell, he hasn’t had sex since her. he was getting sick of his hand doing the pleasure for him, but the warmth of your mouth is a reminder that you’re here.

your eyes tear up when he lets go of your hair, the stinging there for a few seconds before you move again, this time at the slow pace he requested. he nudges your head up, forcing you to look at him through your lashes as you resume to suck him off.

“that’s it.” he exhales with a moan, back pinned against the countertop. “good girl, listening to everything i say.”

he licks his teeth as he stares down at you, your doe eyes going into his soul as you’re stuffed full with his cock. if only he had his phone nearby, he would take a picture of this.

it’s quiet, except for his groaning and the wet sounds. his mouth is agape, his dick disappearing in and out of those plump lips. deep down, he thinks he’s using you to get off, but little does he know, you wanted this as much as he did. it’s like he wants this image engraved into his mind forever.

without even realizing it, you start to bob your head faster again, gulping more of his cock in the process.

“mmph, fuck, wait.” he pants, voice getting higher when his dick twitches. “s-slow down. slow, slow—” he lets out a long groan, grabbing the back of your head to move it down to his pelvis. you gag for the last time, his cum shooting down your throat all at once. you relax your jaw, making his seed easier to swallow. “so fucking good. such a good girl.” he pants again.

when he pushes you off, you cough as you try to catch your breath from being able to breathe again. matt’s still looking at you, but this time with his original stone-cold demeanor. his eyes flick over to the stove clock. “it’s 2:45 now. you should probably start getting ready to grab evelyn soon.”

with that, he pulls up his undergarments, zips them, and walks away.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

matt’s seen walking towards the front door through the window of the white picket-fenced home when you park the car, and you take a shaky exhale. seeing him after what happened makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand, but you don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way.

because, well, you enjoyed what you two did. a lot.

after another short breath, you get out of the driver's seat to open the back door. avoiding matt forever is impossible, so you’ll just have to toughen up and deal with it.

evelyn’s kicking excitedly, the top straps unbuckled already when you reach to undo the bottom half of her car seat. just as she hops down onto the driveway, the front door opens as if on queue.

of course, she leaves her backpack and the little mermaid water bottle behind as she bolts to her father. “daddy! daddy!” you hear her squeal excitedly, closing and locking the car doors once you grab her school stuff.

matt scoops up evelyn with ease and kisses her on the head. he smiles down at his daughter, asking her a whole bunch of questions about the school day. he nods and pipes in here and there to keep the conversation flowing as his little girl rambles on. you notice how matt gets when he sees evelyn, and his demeanor completely changes. he’s happy and engaged, eyes showing the love he has for her. it’s so fucking adorable.

“what do you want for dinner, missy?” matt asks, adjusting her in his arms when she starts to slip.

you silently watch the interaction, not wanting to ruin their moment as evelyn brings her finger up to her chin to think. it takes her a few seconds, but she says something along the lines of ‘the dinner of champions.’

“dino nuggets and mac and cheese?” he questions with a quirked brow. “but you had that last night.”

evelyn puts her hands together and pouts, giving him the best puppy dog eyes she can muster. unfortunately for her father, that trick will always work on him.

he sighs, setting her down. “i suppose so…”

“can y/n stay for dinner?” evelyn tugs at matt’s pants as she pleads. “pretty please?”

you hesitate with your answer, because you don’t know what’s in store if you stay longer than usual. “oh, i don’t—”

“you should.” matt quirks a brow, turning to face you. “it will be fun, yeah?”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @mattgirl4lyfe @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @sturnsmadl @starz4star

[derinwrites]

Do you have any advice for writing in a web serial format?

Let’s look at this in two sections – the business part, and the actual writing part.

The Business Part

1. Consistency. Consistency in updates. Have a schedule and STICK TO IT.

If your schedule is too hectic and starts affecting your health or otherwise adversely affecting your life, change the schedule; update less often. Don’t update in spurts and then randomly stop. The audience will far more easily tolerate a slow schedule than an inconsistent one; an inconsistent one will lose many readers. You’re not Andrew Hussie and you can’t get away with that bullshit.

There may be times where you need to take a hiatus due to some emergency, life event, or health condition. This is fine – your wellbeing is more important than your story. But you need to be up-front with your audience about this; tell them you’re taking a hiatus and tell them exactly how long it’s going to be. If you can, you should tell them in advance (this isn’t possible for things like a car accident, but is very possible if you’re planning to, say, move house in a month). If you’re taking too many hiatuses, then it’s better to slow down your schedule and update less often. Audiences prefer fast and consistent, but if they have to choose, slow is better than inconsistent.

The #1 helper to consistency is having a big buffer – that is, have several weeks’ worth of unpublished chapters. The length of your buffer is personal taste, but I like to keep mine as long as possible so that if there’s some problem that stops me from writing for several weeks, it won’t upset the schedule. It keeps my stress down to know that I have that leeway. Other writers prefer to only write a week or two ahead, though, so different things work for different people.

2. Decide on your monetisation system early and prioritise it.

The most popular and most effective method for monetising a web serial seems to be the patronage method, which is the one I use. You set up a patreon, ko-fi, or whatever sponsorship system you prefer, and offer rewards to those who support you. Having their names in a credit list and getting access to advance chapters are very common rewards. Some people also lock access to their discord behind a paywall, or offer extra stories or let supporters name story characters.

This model is not the only way to make money from web serials. Some people make money via advertising, or selling merchandise, or use the web serial itself to advertise stories that they sell. You can of course use several revenue streams – you can have both a patreon/ko-fi and run ads on your website (I don’t because I hate ads, but you can), or start selling merch related to your story once there’s a demand for it. Many web serial authors (including myself) sell their completed works as books. But the important thing here is that one of these systems will be your main system, and you need to know what it is and behave accordingly. If you run ads AND have a patreon, are you more focused on ad revenue or patreon revenue? You’re going to have to put your time and attention into one of them over the other. You’re going to have to make decisions that will help one and harm the other. So know in advance which one is most important to you.

You don’t have to monetise your story at all, of course. Plenty of people write fiction on the internet for free every day with no thought to making an income at all. But if you’re serious about this, I would recommend monetising it, because that makes a better and more consistent product. The reason I’m still able to keep writing these year after year is that my supporters pay my mortgage; without Patreon and ko-fi, I’d have to get a different job, and wouldn’t have time or energy to write consistently. Also, the reason I can write and update even when I don’t feel like it, and the reason I always push to make my stories as good as possible even when I’m not interested, is because I owe it to my supporters who are paying me real actual money to read my work. If I didn’t owe my readers anything, none of these stories would ever get finished, because writing is only fun about half of the time.

3. Don’t expect to be able to turn this into a career.

This advice sounds silly coming from me, who has through sheer luck, as well as the generosity and passion of my readers, somehow turned this into a career. But I need to emphasise that that luck is not typical. Most web serial writers will not be able to support themselves solely with their writing. It can make a good side hustle, but if your primary goal is “low barrier to entry work-from-home career where I don’t have to answer to a boss and can support myself comfortably,” then web serial writing is usually all of those things except the last one. There’s no harm in trying to turn this into a career – I did it, as have many other web serial authors – but don’t expect that result, is all I’m saying.

Still, if you can do it, it does have a lot of advantages.

4. Don’t expect to make money fast.

I remember when I finally started making an entire $100/month on Patreon. It was a fantastic day.

It was when I’d been writing web serials for four years.

5. Your most valuable resource is your readership.

Your readership will grow and gather momentum over time. The best business decisions you can make are those that grow your readership and allow your readers to participate in community, even if you have to give up opportunities to make money to do it.

A good example of this is discord. Some people have private discords that only their patrons can access; while this is a useful anti-spam and anti-harassment tool, I don’t recommend doing this if you don’t have a major spam or harassment problem. Some people will pay for discord access, yes, so you might get a handful of extra dollars per month that way – however, you will also get a far less active discord. When it comes to readers, population density is critically important; the more activity, the more people talking about your work together (or talking about anything and bonding with each other), the better. Plenty of people have joined my free discord just because it was there and only read my stories after seeing people talk about them there. Then they go and get their friends to read the stories. Enthusiastic readers are inherently valuable, and the best thing you can do is give them the resources they need to talk to each other and share their interest.

This principle applies to a lot of things. I have a lot of free stories on my website that aren’t the usual web serials, and more than once I’ve considered whether they should be paywalled. The answer I always land on is ‘no’; I couldn’t tell you how many readers have been roped into my web serials because they liked Copy <|> Paste, or The Void Princess, or Drops of Blood. These readers may or may not then become monetary supporters, but even the ones who don’t will increase activity and discussion about the stories, have fun and tell jokes in the discord, and may even produce fanart. A thriving community is always going to be more valuable to you than a few extra dollars; make sure to support them accordingly.

Your readership will start very small. In terms of marketing, this is your hardest time. A big readership does the majority of the marketing for you, but when you’re on your own, it takes a lot to convince anyone to give your stories a shot. It helps if you have an existing readership to leverage, which is what I did – I’d been writing Animorphs fanfiction on AO3 for years, and many of my first readers followed me over from there. If you have such a community that already has faith in your writing, leverage it. If you don’t, you can gain one my writing in a place where people go to read stories similar to your work, such as an appropriate subreddit, or a web serial site like Royal Road or Scribblehub. You are looking to gain as high a number of enthusiastic, engaged readers as possible.

And now, the fun part – the actual craft!

The Writing Part

1. Always remember that you are writing for two audiences

A web serial author has to keep two audiences in mind; the serial readers, and the bingers. You are writing a story that needs to be fun and engaging when read very slowly, at the pace of whatever your update schedule is, but that also needs to be interesting when read all at once.

This is not an easy task.

It’s something I fucked up pretty significantly with Curse Words, which was my first attempt at this. Curse Words has a lot of complicated political stuff happening throughout pretty much the whole story, as well as a complex save-the-world plot that’s reliant on a lot of secrets, mysteries and extremely speculative information. With so many wheels spinning, I decided to make the protagonist not particularly smart and move him very slowly through the plot to make sure that the reader would be able to keep up.

This was a mistake.

‘Pretty slow and simple’ at a novel reader’s pace is torturous at a web serial pace. Readers got a full week to discuss the mysteries and implications of each chapter with each other, doing the detective work of ten chapters between each one. The frustration with Kayden’s slow pace was clear, and he came across as an outright idiot rather than an average teen. Personally, I think this lesson was one of the biggest reasons for the difference in quality between Curse Words and Time to Orbit. Don’t slow down for your audience; they’re already slowed down by your update schedule.

At the same time, though, you don’t want to move so fast that you lose the bingers. You can’t assume that your readers will have time between chapters, or that they will discuss each chapter with other readers, or that they will go back over previous chapters looking for clues. Interested people reading update by update will do this, but bingers absolutely will not. So you still need to make sure that everything is comprehensible on a binge read with no backchecking or outside investigation.

My advice on this matter is to move as fast as possible, but take care to make sure that readers are reminded of everything important a few chapters before it comes into play. That way, both audiences can keep up. If you have to make a decision, it’s best to favour your update readers; they’re your most active community. They’re doing the up-to-date discussion, and probably doing the most word-of-mouth and fanart, although binge readers will do that too (I have plenty of dedicated readers who wait five or six weeks to binge a bunch of chapters on purpose, just because that’s their preferred reading style, and they’re still very engaged). But if you plan to publish your story later as a complete work, you also need to keep in mind how it’s going to read as a binge – and also, new readers will binge the earlier chapters of your story to catch up to the current one, so make sure it’s a good experience for them or they won’t get a chance to become update readers.

Two audiences. Mind your pacing and information reveals accordingly.

2. Chapter length

The general rule of web serials is that the more often you update, the shorter your chapters should be. The generally agreed ‘sweet spot’ is 1-1.5k words, 3 times a week, but this depends heavily on individual style. I update once or twice a week (depending on what stories I’ve got going) and try to keep my chapters between 2 and 2.5k words. If you update once a month, your sweet spot is probably about 10k words.

Don’t hold religiously to what other people tell you the ideal word count is – this will vary drastically with genre and personal style – but it’s best to try to stay fairly consistent. It’s not always possible to stay exactly on target because the best break points between chapters will vary (I’ve got 1.8k chapters and 3.5k chapters), but readers like to be able to predict about how long an update will be and they like it to not vary too wildly too often. As with choosing your update schedule, choosing your chapter length will depend on what suits your personal schedule, and what suits the story you’re writing.

“The shorter the chapter, the more frequent the updates” is a good rule for attracting the widest audience. Short, infrequent chapters will have a lot of readers losing interest between updates; long, frequent ones will have a lot of readers feeling overwhelmed. But the most important thing is finding something that you can consistently output year after year (remember, it took me 4 years to make $100/month; this is a long game).

3. It’s a TV show, not a movie

This advice is less useful in our age of Marvel movie franchises and made-to-binge Netflix series, so pretend I’m talking to you in the year 2010 or earlier. If a novel is a movie, a web serial is a TV show. What I mean by that is that a novel is shaped primarily as a complete experience, whereas a web serial is shaped as a chapter-by-chapter experience.

It’s best, in both cases, to have a well structures and paced story that is made of well structured and paced chapters. But sometimes you have to choose between the structure or a chapter and the structure of the story as a whole; making one better will cheapen the other. When you’re writing a novel, you should choose the structure of the whole, but when you’re writing a web serial, you should choose the structure of the chapter. Web serial readers will prefer a chained series of excellent chapters, over a beautiful story of chapters with mediocre individual structure.

In fact, whether you want a structure to the overall story at all is personal taste. My stories have strong overall structure and move towards a planned conclusion because that’s how I prefer to write (and it also makes the story bingeable, since it’s basically a novel being released really slowly), but plenty of web serials out there have no real planned ending and will wander about for years and years in no obviously consistent direction, occasionally throwing in a big twist or major change to freshen things up. These would make absolutely horrible novels, but make very popular web serials. Whether you write like me or like them, the rule is the same – the experience of each individual chapter takes priority.

Come to think of it, this might be why people call my stories “ADHD crack”…

4. Okay, so how do I structure a good chapter?

I generally try to do three things in every chapter.

- Hit the ground running

- Give them something new

- End on an open question

Hit the ground running – Unless it’s the very first chapter of the story, you don’t have to be coy getting into the action. Open the chapter as if it’s the middle of the chapter; start at full momentum. Catch the high point of the last chapter before it falls. It your last chapter ended with “We checked the fingerprints on the candlestick. It’s Colonel Mustard.” then you can start this one with “But he was in the library at the time!”, you don’t need to recap or slow down or anything.

Give them something new – Every chapter should give the reader at least one thing to talk and think about. A new choice, some new information, a shift in perspective, whatever. People are reading these updates one at a time so it is vital that they feel like they got something out of the experience. A chapter in which nothing is learned will make readers feel like their time was wasted, and they have all the time until next update to reflect on that.

This is also true of a novel, but it’s much more critical in a web serial. A novel with nothing chapters in it is just frustratingly slow-paced; a web serial with nothing chapters in it leaves the reader feeling cheated for long stretches of time.

The thing to talk about doesn’t necessarily have to be a big plot reveal or major advancement. An incredibly cute scene, or sad scene, or funny scene will work just as well. But you have to give them SOMETHING. If you’re giving them nothing, consider cutting the chapter entirely and integrating any important foreshadowing or whatever into the next chapter.

One major hurdle of mine with this rule is recap chapters. If you’re writing a very complex plot over a long period of time, you need ways to occasionally take stock and make sure everyone is on the same page and nobody’s forgotten or misinterpreted anything important. This information can be recapped or conveyed in the middle of an action sequence or something, but I personally find that putting other stuff in the scene makes it too distracting and therefore less effective. I like to literally just sit the heroes down in a room and have them go, “okay, we’re spinning a lot of threads at once right now; what do we know, what are we trying to figure out, and what are our next steps?” This is the literary equivalent of the save point or room full of health packs right before a boss battle. Game designers don’t put that room there to be nice; they do it so that they know exactly how much health you’re going to have going into the battle, and can structure it accordingly.

You can make these chapters entertaining with character banter, but you can’t really introduce new threads to talk about, except possibly as a twist right at the end. Introducing new information mid-recap distracts from the recap and makes it pointless. You might have something similar in your stories, chapters that are essential but don’t give the reader anything new to work with.

My advice for these is to just bite the bullet on this one. Release the chapter with nothing new to talk about. You can get away with doing this occasionally, if the chapter has a clear purpose (I get a lot of readers tell me that they appreciate my recap chapters). Readers who get nothing out of the chapter will shrug and talk about older stuff instead, so long as you only do this occasionally. But a chapter with no new information has a cost in opportunity and in reader patience, so only pay it if the chapter’s worth it.

End on an open question– End the chapter with a reason for the reader to come back. You want them to think about the story afterward and be eager to read the next chapter when it comes out. Adhering to this principle is probably why I have such a reputation for cliffhangers, although truth be told I don’t use nearly as many actual cliffhangers as people say, I just try to end by opening a question. By that I mean, the audience should always end a chapter asking a question, which can be something that will span dozens of chapters (“How can Colonel Mustard’s fignerprints be on the candlestick? Is he being framed? Does this mean that the candlestick was in the library and isn’t even the murder weapon?”) or span a single paragraph (“How will the narrator react to learning that Colonel Mustard lied about never touchign the candlestick?”) This could be the emotional height of a scene, or the point at which new information recontextualises everything. It could be the moment where the stakes are raised or an important assumption turns out to be false. Anything that makes the audience eager to learn what happens next will do.

There should always be at least one open question in your story, more if it’s thematically appropriate. You know how mmorpgs and crafting games and suchlike keep you playing for hours and hours by making sure you’re always near the end of an activity – keep playing til you reach the next level, oh but now we’re nearly at the end of this quest so we should complete that, oh but now we’re just 20 gold short of being able to buy that cool new armour so we should just… same trick. Readers should always have at least one ‘quest’, an open question that they’re following, and should always be close to an answer.

You don’t have to dramatically introduce an entirely new question each time; you can end a chapter by reminding the reader of an existing open question. I tend to be a fan of the Big Dramatic Reveal On The Last Line method (cliffhanger reputation), but you don’t have to do it that way. Indeed, it’s a good idea not to do it that way every single time, lest you get stuck in a rut; every chapter ending doesn’t have to be incredibly tense and snappy. Somebody mentioning that they wish they knew how they could get enough food to make it through the winter before a full paragraph of cuddling and falling asleep in their mother’s arms works just as well.

5. It will help if your story is good, but it isn’t required.

You don’t have to be very good at writing to do this.

It helps to be good at writing, of course, and I assume that since you’re asking me for tips, you’re the sort of person who wants to be as good at writing as you can. But there is some true hack garbage out there doing absolute numbers in the web serial circuit. I try not to harp on about this too much because Curse Words fans get really upset at me when I do, but I think most of us can agree that Curse Words kind of sucks. And that just sucks in an ‘author is still learning how to do this’ kind of way; there’s much worse writing, real bullshit Ready Player One-level writing, trucking along out there brilliantly.

The point I’m trying to make here is that this isn’t an industry where there’s any value in hesitating and wringing your hands and asking yourself if you’re a good enough writer to do it yet. You are. You can just start writing a web serial right now and so long as you consistently update, you’re probably already above average for the market. And your first one probably will suck (mine did), but it’ll teach you how to make a better one. I think that Time to Orbit: Unknown is passably okay, and it absolutely would not be passably okay if I hadn’t written Curse Words first. Just go for it. Try to write a quality story if you can, but if you can’t, it’s honestly not that big of a deal. What matters, truly matters, is that you are committed to improving your craft. And that means actually practicing your craft. Which means writing some chapters and setting up a release schedule.

Good luck.

[delphiniumarchangelmoon]

I still have the doc. I have a google doc the length of a novel. I can’t even open it but I also can’t delete it.

I know everyone like “oh cringe culture is dead just post it who cares”

Yeah that works most of the time. Sometimes it DOESNT work. Sometimes you can’t just “do whatever you want forever” out of it. Sometimes you devoted years of your life to one of the best, most engaging fandoms for one of the shittiest pieces of media ever created and you’re too fucking mad to even try to figure out your feelings about it

Sometimes the only fandom you’ve ever been in that never had any drama, never had a lack of engagement, that felt like a goddamn family just… can’t be saved. Sometimes the base concept is just so flawed that you can’t keep up against outside pressure to drop it. Because nobody sees what we’ve spent years building, the fact that we’ve “ship of Theseus”’d this entire stupid anime to the point of being unrecognizable, that really we’re just playing with oc’s at this point.

Cause if I was gonna publish it I’d need to make a whole separate account. It would tank my reputation. No one would take my writing seriously after that. If I ever tried to join a writing event it would be like a felony conviction on a job application. I’d have a better time posting kinky rpf smut on main.

I’m not even gonna tell you what stupid anime I’m talking about either you know or you don’t know.

Do you ever get reminded of that one really intense longfic that you had every intention of writing and had meticulous notes and complicated outlines for but then something happened and you aren't in the fandom anymore and you still have the desire to write the fic but it's slightly hollow now because it's a good idea and you think it would have been a great fic but you haven't been in the fandom for literally years and you don't have that bit of passion for it that you did when you were writing it and have just a weird moment of nostalgia where you want to reread it but it never existed

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 02

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 3.2k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

You lift your eyes to him. Your conversation had already been weird, but you hadn’t expected him to drop a bomb like that. What are you supposed to reply to that? Instead, you stare at him, not knowing what to say or what to do. He seems like he’s waiting for an answer, but you don’t have any for him.

“I’m sorry,” is all that came out of your mouth.

“For what?” he asks as you take a deep breath, looking at the floor and nervously chewing your bottom lip.

“For wasting four years of your life.” You raise your shoulders before waiting for a reaction from him. But instead, he starts to chuckle, shaking his head.

“Is that what you think of us? That our…” He pinches his lips, searching for an alternative to ’love' “our relationship was a waste?”

“I don’t know. We were kids,” you reply, as his eyes seem to burn the side of your face before you see him take a few steps back.

Do you think your relationship was a waste? No. He was your first love. You experienced all your first times with him. First date, first time, first heartbreak. Jungkook sighs, shaking his head.

“I loved you,” is all that could slip from his lips as your eyes finally met his.

 “I loved you too,” you whisper, feeling your throat clenching. And your words seem to comfort him a little. He needed to hear it. Even if you had told him multiple times back then.

“I…I’m going to be around more often.” He informs you, with one hand in his pocket and the other pulling the beer to his lips. “I don’t want us to be like all those exes who hate each other. Can we be friends?”

You never thought you would hear him say that one day. But you’re relieved. Between you, Jungkook was always the most mature.

“Do you think we can be friends?” You ask, arching a brow as he chuckles, raising his shoulders.

“We both moved on.” The tattooed man tilts his head.

“You literally just asked me to give you the reason for our breakup from 7 years ago." You roll your eyes, but he simply smiles.

“I’m curious.” He takes a step closer. “I just want to understand where I did it wrong for you to leave me without an explanation. Was it because of my snoring?” He jokes to lighten the mood, and you give him an amused look.

“I used to fall asleep to your snoring,” you retort with a slight smile.

“You’re the first girl— woman who’s not bothered about it.” he chuckles, shrugs, and sits on the grass. You imitate him, leaning against the wall next to him.

People can be annoyed by the snoring, but you have always liked his. The first week after your breakup, you didn’t sleep well with the silence surrounding you. Seven years later, you still leave the TV on at night.

“So… friends?” He asks, tilting his head in your direction. You hesitate for a few seconds before taking the hand he is offering and giving it a squeeze.

“Friends.”

 “How’s your work?” It must be stressful to have so many responsibilities as a shop owner.” Jungkook tries to start a conversation, and you know you need to keep it going since he took the first step.

“I’m…grateful. I worked hard to do what I love.” You reply, pushing your dress down as you try to find a comfortable position without showing your private parts to the few guests around. Jungkook noticed, and he took off his jacket to cover your legs, even though you tried to refuse. That’s just how he was—genuinely kind without ulterior motives, “Thanks,” you mumble. “What about you?”

“I fixed some computers for grannies,” he nods, both of you laughing softly. “I applied for a job at the government, but self-employment is quite tempting. I'm not suited for a 9-5 job.”

"You were never built for that," you shake your head. Taking a sip of your champagne, you grimace, and leave the bottle between the two of you

“Tell me about it.” He laughs, finishing his beer. “I need to settle down properly before thinking of working for myself.”

“Where are you staying at the moment?”

 “Jimin’s.” He raises his shoulders. “I do jobs here and there, as I said. But my degrees are not just for decoration. I’d better find a good use for it.”

“I can’t believe you really found studies to be a hacker,” you laugh as he looks at you, amused.

“I’m a pentester,” he corrects you, earning eye rolls from you.  

“You’re hacking people to see if their security works. That’s the same.”

“Except, I do it legally.” He teases, lifting his finger.

“Right. That changes everything.” You add sarcastically, not feeling his admiring eyes on you. “At least you do your dream job.”

“I do.”

“We should go back to the party,” you suggest sighing and getting up as Jungkook hums, mirroring you. You hand him back his jacket, saying, “Thanks for that,” and he nods.

“No need to thank me,” he replies, pulling it back on his shoulders as you two walk to the door. “Hey. Do you offer a discount for new friends?”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, your eyes falling on his inked forearm.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just some filling and a few colorings,” he explains, showing you the blank space between his tattoos. “My old tattoo artist sucked. I’m looking for a new one.”

Some part of you knew he was just making excuses, as his tattoos were perfectly fine. They need a few fillings, as he said, but otherwise, they look great.

“I double the price for the exes, actually.” You retort, and he laughs.

“Damn, Nabi, who hurts you?” He jokes, and you roll your eyes before freezing at the nickname. A few of your friends call you Nabi. The ones who are close. Hearing it from him makes your stomach almost drop. He doesn’t seem to see it. And it was for the better.

“Ask Jimin for the shop’s address. I’ll see what I can do for you.” You mumble, and he nods, pulling down his sleeves. “I need to go back to the bride. You know how dramatic Hyesun can be. She’ll think I abandoned her.”

“Right. Thanks, Y/N. I really... enjoyed our conversation.” He says sincerely, earning a slight smile from you.

“Me too. See you around... friend.” You wave at him before walking back to your friend group.

You sit next to Hyesun at Namjoon’s coffee shop. They were back from their honeymoon a few days ago, Hwan and you wanted to know everything about it. They went to Jeju and spent a whole week lovey-dovey.

“So, the next step is kids?” Hwan asks, crossing her legs as Hyesun almost choked on her iced coffee.

 “Damn, Hwan, do you really think that marriage and kids are linked or what?” Hyesun groans. She gives a look to her husband, who’s behind his counter, offering his best smile to a client before catching her eyes and blowing her a kiss. “No, maybe after my thirties, but we want to enjoy each other as much as we can.”

“In other terms, they want to fuck on the kitchen’s counter like animals for as long as possible,” You muse, as she smirks and slaps your shoulder.

“Don’t laugh too much, miss, you still have some explanation to do.” Hyesun scolds you as you frown a little.

“About what?”

“About what?” Hyesun repeats. “Maybe how you disappeared with your ex in the middle of my wedding reception and came back with him, giggling and heart eyed.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your black coffee.

“That’s pretty exaggerated.” You sigh as Hwan looks at the both of you, lost. Hwan joined your friends' group three years ago. She doesn’t know anything about your story with Jungkook. And Hyesun smirks, pulling her chair closer to your mutual friend.

“I don’t understand,” Hwan chuckles.

“Yeah, you weren’t there, but that lady here was in a long-term relationship a few years ago." Hyesun muses as you lean back in your chair, shaking your head. “She was supposed to be the one getting married before any of us.”

“Y/N?” Hwan frowns, not believing Hyesun.

“Yeah, Y/N.” Hyesun nods, “Hard to believe, right?”

“Yeah. I have never seen her with anyone since I have known her.” Your red-haired friend laughs as you scrunch your nose, amused.

“Can you focus on your marriage instead of talking about old stories?” You arch a brow, giving her a look.

“No, no, I want to know.” Hwan shushed you, shaking her hand in front of my face. “What happened? Why are they not together anymore?”

 “Y/N is a self-sabotaging type of person.” Hyesun grimaces, “Jungkook was ready to offer her the moon if she asked for it.”

“Gosh…” You sigh, but your two friends interrupt you as you continue to sip your coffee.

“They have been dating since high school. How old were you when he asked you to be his girlfriend?” Hyesun turns to you as you wet your lips.

“Seventeen.”

“Right. They were like the couple goal back then.” Your best friend continues, while Hwan is listening attentively. “Jungkook always shouted out to the world that he was going to spend his life with her.”

“We were kids.”

“Shut up,” Hyesun says, stopping you as you chuckled. “Everyone knew from the moment you two started spending time together that you were meant to be.”

“Then why did you break up with him?” Hwan frowns. “You fell out of love?”

You take a deep breath and shrug. “No.” Was all you could reply, chewing the inside of your cheek, “I loved him when I ended things,” you add as both of your friends wait for your next words. “Oh my god... I broke up with him because he was about to leave for Japan, and I couldn’t follow him. Our relationship ended there. That’s it.”

 “Japan is just two hours away from here. Jungkook would have made it work, and you know that.” Hyesun gives you a deadpan stare.

“He was going to be there for 5-6 years.” You retort, frowning. “What was I supposed to do? Wait for him here? What if our relationship couldn’t make it through the long distance? What if he started seeing someone there and I was unaware of it?”

“You and I both know that the Jungkook from that time would rather cut his dick off than cheat on you.” Hyesun defends Jungkook as you roll your eyes. “He’ll most likely cheat on his new girlfriend with you, rather than cheating on you with others.”

“You’re so stupid sometimes, Y/N.” Hwan shakes her head as you cover your face in embarrassment. “Now we’ll never know because you’re a scary little thing who’s too afraid to take a risk for her own comfort.”

“Are you really teaming up against me?” You chuckle, crossing your arms under your chest. You weren’t surprised by how harsh they can be. It’s how your friendship with these girls works. At least you know they’re genuine and not sugarcoating everything.

“I’m sorry, but have you seen that guy? I wouldn’t give up on him, even if he was a huge dickhead.” Hwan adds, and Hyesun nods behind her shoulder. “Shit.. I wanted to ask for his number, but since you have a too huge connection with him, I’ll just… watch him… from afar.”

“You still can, he’s single,” You raise an eyebrow, her face contorting into a grimace.

“Y/N, sweetie,” Hwan shakes her head, “He’s not a two-week boyfriend of yours. He was the love of your life. So, thank you, but no thank you.” She adds before Hyesun offers her a high-five.

“Anyway, you won’t dodge the question. What happened between you two at the wedding?” Hyesun tilts her head to you, pulling the straw between her lips in a sassy way.

“What do you think happened?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Something passionate, maybe a little make out session with wandering hands.” Hyesun raises her shoulders. You burst out laughing and shake your head.

“We simply talked.” You shatter their dreams as the two girls whine. “He asked me to be friends. I said yes.”

They both exchange a look before sipping their drinks silently as you frown. You hate it when they do that.

“What?” You groan, straightening up in your chair, and exclaim, “What?!”

 Hyesun starts by saying “Y/N…” as Hwan giggles.

“Sweetheart, I’ll hold your hand when I say it,” Hwan adds, taking your hand dramatically, covering it with her other hand as she rubs it softly. “No ex stays ‘friends’. Either neither of you has moved on, or one of you is lying about their feelings.”

“Or none of them have loved each other.” Hyesun nods in agreement with Hwan, saying, “But we both know that… well, you both were crazy about each other.”

“So, do you still have feelings for him?”

“What?” You frown, taking your hand off Hwan’s when she asks you that question. “You’re both ridiculous. I don’t have feelings for him anymore. We were friends before we got into a relationship, you know that?”

“That’s not the same,” Hwan says, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, you didn’t taste his dick the first time you two were friends.” Hyesun muses as you groan, pressing your forehead on the table dramatically.

“You know what? Fuck you. Both of you.” You sigh, shaking your head as they both laugh. “I’m sure he only asked me to be his friend to be polite anyway; I haven’t had news from him since the wedding.”

 “Because you’re waiting for his news?” Hwan hums playfully.

“What- No! He wanted me to see what I could do for his tattoos—” you continue but they both give you an amused look. “Alright, shut up. I’m done talking about that.”

You were distracted by your thoughts while cleaning the room after your last client. After a six-hour-long work session, your back aches and your fingers are numb from the tattoo machine's constant buzz. But at least your client left happy with her new thigh tattoo. Spraying some disinfectant on the table, you start to wipe it meticulously.

“Sorry, sir, we’re closing,” you hear Baekhyun’s voice after the front door opened. “You can come back tomorrow; we’re opening at 9.”

“That’s okay, I’m not here to get tattooed,” The other masculine voice says as you straight up, leaving everything on the table and walking to the counter for a better view. "Is Y/N here?”

“It’s okay, Baekhyun, I’ll take care of it,” You add walking past your employee as he nods, “Finish the cleaning in the back.”

Baekhyun frowns, his eyes never leaving your face while you’re taking off your gloves and join Jungkook. He wears a casual, all-black attire, as always, with his whole sleeve tattoo on display and a beanie on his head, from which a few strands of hair fell to his neck.

“Hi,” he offers you a half smile.

“It’s late,” you reply, tilting your head as he chuckles and scratches the back of his head, his arm muscles flexing. Your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“The grannies computers,” he jokes, earning a smile from you while Baekhyun frown, noticing the sudden softness in your demeanor.

 Jungkook’s eyes switch from Baekhyun to you a few times as you turn to the other tattoo artist who didn’t move a bit.

“Baek?” You shake your head, as if waiting for him to give you the privacy you asked.

“Oh, yeah, right.” He mumbles, giving Jungkook a last look before going into the room behind the counter, saying, “I’ll be here, if you need me.”

You roll your eyes and step closer to Jungkook, leaning your hip against the counter. “Are the grannies happy?” You ask as he offers you a shy smile and nods.

“A lot.” He confirms, before looking around the tattoo shop. “You decorated it nicely.”

“Thanks. Did you come alone?”

“Hm.”

An awkward silence fills the room before you chuckle, shaking your head.

“So, what can I do for you, Mr. Jeon?” You try to ease the tension by making a gesture with your hand, indicating his body.

“Huh? Oh right. I, uh, the fillings,” He explains clumsily, pulling up his sleeve to show you his entire arm, and you’re surprised at how his tattoos just…make him look hotter.

You step closer again and ask him with a look if you can touch. He slightly nods. Your fingers wrap around his forearm as you twist it to see all the ink on it, spotting every little blank space between his bigger tattoos.

“Your previous tattoo artist was great,” You mumble, too focused to notice his gaze tracing every feature of your face. “That’s not the same… work?” You frown at the way that some designs are rawer.

“The first one did some shitty stuff on my arm,” He whispers, his breath closer to your skin than you thought. You freeze, turning your face and immediately pulling back slightly when your noses almost brush. “The second made up pretty well. But you know what they say? The third time is a charm.”

Your eyes meet his, your fingers still wrapped around his arm as you take a deep breath, trying not to be too obvious about how nervous he’s making you.

“Well, not to be arrogant, but that’s the case,” You reply, and his lips curve into a side smile. “What do you have in mind for the filling?”

“You’re the pro here, I’ll let you decide,” Jungkook declares, your eyes falling back on his arm as you trail your fingers over the empty spaces, earning a shiver from him.

 “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” You lick your lips, “I’ll need to take pictures of your arm to draw what I’ll do…” you add as your eyes fall on the moth on the inside of his arm, darker than the rest of his tattoos, right where the biceps muscle starts.

“Are you free on Saturday?” He asks with a softer voice, tilting his head to catch your eyes.

“I can take the pictures now,” You chuckle nervously.

“For dinner, I mean.” He clarifies as you look at him.

“A date?” You blink, unsure.

“A friendly date,” He corrects you, wetting his lips, as you take a few steps back, bumping your back against the counter, feeling stupid, but he didn’t move. “So?”

Of course, a friendly date. A simple dinner between two adults… two friends.

“Saturday,” You repeat, then nod.

“Saturday,” He lets out a soft chuckle, clearly pleased to see you so flustered. “You can say no tho.”

“No- I mean, yes, a dinner, Saturday.” You shake your head, frowning and catching your phone to take pictures of his arm as he laughs, “When you’re done making fun of me, let me know so I can work properly.” You groan, your camera app open while he smirks, showing off his tattoos for you to snap.

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3

[beuxwhoyouare]

Ready to Go

I always thought I would die young. I just don’t forsee a long life ahead for me. It’s not like sad or anything I just think I’ve done all I wanted to. There’s never been like a dream job or goal I’ve ever foresaw in my future. It’s not depression or anything, if anything I think more people should be honest with themselves about being useless and just tapping out of a long life of nothingness.

See. You’ve read this long and didn’t even notice I haven’t mentioned my name. That’s because like my life, my name is equally inconsequential.

I was pondering about ways to easily tap out of life while I sat at the bus stop waiting. Eventually I got on the bus at my usual stop to take me to my usual destination when an older white man slowly waved his hand in front of my wandering gaze.

“What’s out there?” he feebly asked in a weak voice.

I’ve never been asked something on my route before. I kinda just zone out into my own mind like this and-

“Hey kid. You keep zoning out are you okay?” he interrupted my internal thought.

It’s like he knew I was talking to myself but how?

“I’m just in my own head. Sorry did you want the window seat?” I finally replied audibly.

“No. Just making sure you’re okay. Was worried you were one of those druggies or something. Whole life ahead of you and you youngins just throw it all away.”

What a presumptive thought. He really believes that young people can’t have a complex and existential inner dialogue. I think older people don’t give us enough credit. I’m complex, I think.

*hehe*

What’s he laughing at. Wait maybe he is listening to my inner dialogue? Let’s see. Lemme think of something and see how he responds. I don’t want to die, I just want to peacefully tap out of the game of existence.

Damn nothing? He isn’t going to say anything? I’m losing my mind.

“Where do you want to go in life kid?”

HE HEARD ME I KNEW IT!

“I mean let’s say you manifested it enough. Maybe I’m here to help you move on. The worst thing you can do is live a life unfulfilled. It seems like that’s how you’re living.”

“You can’t be serious…What can you do?”

“It’s not really me, more like a pact to the deities that rule existence. It’s the law of the land. Everything in this world is all about balance. Even our lives, if one aspect is out of balance it could throw the whole world out of whack.”

“So what’s out of balance? Just because I’m tired of being aimless in life? It’s not like I’m the only aimless one right?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one, but you’re the only aimless one put in my life. I have so much I wanted to do but spent too much time wasted. I wanted kids, I wanted love, I wanted it all but got sick and spent years withering away in a hospital bed.”

….why is he telling me all this? What can I do about the law of the land? If I could help him I would but he’s talking about myths and hocus pocus.

The bus made an abrupt stop next to a big park near a historical reserve in town. The old man grabbed my arm and dragged me with him off the bus, across the street to the park.

“Dude your boney arm is hurting me. I’ll follow you just let me go”

“We’re here anyway. I can feel one of the deity’s presence around us. All you have to do is say your true hearts desire out loud for it to become true. You can’t move on and I can get a chance to fix my life’s shortcomings.”

My true hearts desire? Doesn’t he get it my problem is I don’t have a desire. There’s nothing fueling me.

“That! Say that out loud.”

“I KNEW YOU COULD HEAR ME! But how?”

“Your inner dialogue was calling to me like a siren. I’m telling you I was meant to hear it. To run into you! This moment was meant to happen.”

Honestly resisting the occult is too much work anyway. I don’t know why I’m even poking and prodding into his story. What is it going to do for me in the end? He’s offering me a way out.

“I don’t have desire. I don’t have a goal. I’m not sad, I’ve lived an okay life but I’m done.”

“I want a real chance to live life. I payed my dues. Please all I ask for is a real chance.”

If felt like all the sounds of nature stopped. The sun suddenly disappeared and it felt like a spotlight appeared above us. All I could see was the old man when he disappeared in front of me. It all disappeared in front of me. Then silence. Well everything was silent from then on. My request to tap out was granted.

“Keven. I like that name, I definitely look like a Keven now. This is a good place to start I think?”

I feel bad that a young person could fall out of love with existing. There’s so much young people have to live for and he just wanted to die? I’ll live the best live for the both of us.

I’m quite the looker now too so that should probably help on the having kids and starting a family front. Although he’s a little short for my liking. You know what no I’m going to be grateful for this new life I’ve been given. There’s still some memories in my head that belong to him. I think he might be gay….well I never got to explore those things in my time but it doesn’t help the kids dream.

Whatever I think starting today I’m going to be Bi. I’m gonna search through these memories and continue working out. Seems like it has a positive impact on people’s outlook and morale. Maybe that’s where the kid went wrong. He didn’t seek ways to be happy. I’m choosing happiness and choosing to be fulfilled.

Let’s start by jerking this thick beer can growing under my shorts though…and maybe seeing if this hot couple in the gym might want a newly confident Latino twunk third.

[mydarlingclaudia]

every word I meant to say

note : ermmmm hi. don't ask where I went for like almost a month work is eating me alive and I was sad. this was inspired by that the unsent project thing andddd idk if I really like this it's def ooc but I was thinking about it again today and this has been in my drafts since September so I figured why not

wc : 2.1k

tags : @luvrgreyy @clitorphosis @sonya-semyonova

desc : letters that went unsent. kind of unrequited love, angst (???), more Leon focused, re2r!Leon - DI!Leon, fem!reader, ooc, not proofread

"I meant to write sooner, I really did. I know it's been a year, my life is so different now, I don't think you'd even believe me if I tried to explain it. I hope you're doing better than I am, I'm happy you weren't able to move to the city with me."

Leon hasn't written a letter since, what, his first few years in the academy? Maybe the end of his senior year of high school? He can't really remember, but he knows that this letter is important because it's to you, his friend he hasn't seen since the night he left for Raccoon City. This isn't even an actual letter, he's scribbling out what he thinks might be good excuses as to why he hasn't talked to you in a year on the back of pieces of scrap paper he took from the office.

He's supposed to be asleep right now, same as everyone else in boot camp, but it's been a year since Raccoon City and he's wondering if you ever tried to reach him. Maybe you tried to go to Raccoon City to look for him, only to see the pile of rubble that stood in its place, sectioned off by the government. Maybe you thought he was dead, he wouldn't blame you.

You and Leon had stuck together all throughout high school, even managed to stay friends when he went off to the police academy and you moved a few hours away for college. He doesn't even know if your address is still the same, he really hopes it is, there's no phone-books in boot camp if he wanted to try and call you, you're supposed to have your loved ones numbers memorized.

The last time Leon saw you was the night before he was supposed to move to the city, before he got a letter in the mail the next morning telling him not to come in, he really wishes he had listened. You were so happy for him, starting out as a city cop was a big deal and he had worked so hard to get there, you and a few friends had thrown him a going-away-party, telling him not to forget you once he got to the city. Leon couldn't forget you if he tried.

You had talked about moving to the city with him for a short period of time, it was really just ramblings the two of you kept bringing up. "Oh, when we live in the city..." "I can come visit you at work..." "I'll handle dinner, you'll handle cleaning..." Nothing ever really came of those ideas, but it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach knowing you wanted to come to the city with him.

He hopes you’ve been well, that life has been kinder to you than it has to him. Leon hopes you got that job you were gushing about the last time he saw you, he hopes you still think of him on his birthday because he thinks of you often.

He shouldn’t have gone to Raccoon City, he should’ve stayed home the day he left and instead stopped by your house to bother you about going to see a movie. Or he should have taken you to lunch, anything would’ve been better than walking into a city that was beyond saving.

"I’m not really sure what I’m saying, but I know I miss you. How have you been? I hope I’m able to come and visit soon, everything’s been moving so fast, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can get dinner, or something. Whatever you want, I’ll pay for it, don’t worry."

Leon's hands shake a tiny bit when he thinks of you, it's that school boy nervousness that movies portray whenever there's a boy with a crush on a girl who he knows is probably too out of his league. You were friends, at least.

"You're done with school now, right?" He knows you are. "I wish I was there for the graduation ceremony, I know your parents are proud. Do you remember my graduation party? Someone spiked the punch and we both ended up passed out in the bathtub at your house, you looked really pretty that night. I hope your graduation was better than mine. This would probably have been better as a phone call, but I don't know, you said letters were always more thoughtful.

– Leon"

–

That letter never got sent. Every letter needs an envelope, Leon just never got around to finding one, but he kept that scrap piece of paper tucked inside his pillowcase on the odd chance that he got his hands on one. He had stricter rules to follow than the other recruits, being legally dead and all.

But even after he got out of boot camp, he kept the letter. It's hidden away in some drawer in his house, he's not sure where, though.

He didn't make it into the army, he's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but being in the position he was in now wasn't much better. He's stronger now, hardened, more mature.

Leon's written a few more letters to you over the years, ones that still never got sent because he either deemed them unworthy or because he became unsure of himself halfway through writing it. But he hasn't thrown any of them away, he'll send them one day, he swears it.

Leon's not using you as a way of journaling, either, even though he should find some way to actually write down his thoughts to get them out of his head. What he writes to you is mostly memories, telling you that his life keeps changing and that he misses you. He knows you're different by now, too. You're both grown, no longer in high school, no longer in college or the academy. If he could turn back time, go anywhere other than Raccoon City, he would. He thinks that's selfish of him, him not being there would've left Claire and Sherry in that city, but how would he have even known?

"Me again, hope you're doing better than I am." Leon's way with words gets worse and worse by the week, not that he cares. "I met someone who kind of reminded me of you, she's a sweetheart, like you. You'd probably become fast friends if you were ever able to meet."

Leon's not allowed to tell you about his mission in Spain, or about the president's daughter. President Graham is putting more body-guards in place for his daughter once she steps foot in D.C. again, Leon's sure the president considered appointing Leon as one of them at some point since breaking the news that she was going to be coming back home safely.

Leon should stop thinking about you so much, it's not like you were his only friend in the world, you've probably forgotten him, anyway.

"My life is still different, but yours probably is, too. This probably sounds stupid, but I miss being in high school. You probably don't, your mom was up your ass all the time and you worked yourself to the bone. Has that changed at all?

I remember that one year I went to Thanksgiving at your house, your uncles were all drunk and your cousins kept trying to get me to come sit with them, your grandpa was trying to get me interested in football. I haven't had a holiday like that since then, your family was always really nice to me."

He's not sure what to say anymore, these letters always just end up dragging out, but Leon has a lot of memories and he hopes you think of them as often as he does.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited. It's harder for me to get time off of work these days, even though I could really fucking use it. I promise one day I'll come back, it's just not going to be for a little while. Just don't do anything dumb.

– Leon"

–

Those letters he's been writing you have piled up in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's definitely sure that your address has changed by now, you're probably not even in the same state anymore. He could always try to find you on Facebook, explain everything that's been building up over the years in a simple text, but there's still rules he's supposed to follow even in his personal life.

Leon didn't stop writing, though. The letters did eventually get shorter, he's not sure if you like the same things anymore or if you'd even be interested.

He writes now mostly about how different his life would be if he was with you, if he had just asked you out in high school or kissed you the night he was supposed to leave for Raccoon City. It almost feels real to him when he goes to sleep, but that might just be the alcohol numbing his brain, not the dream of you sleeping next to him or the feeling of your breath on the back of his neck, not even the little pitter-patter off tiny footsteps coming from down the hallway.

It does make him feel a bit pathetic, dreaming of a life with someone he hadn't talked to in years. Leon can't help but think of you, he always thought you were pretty, and the past always lives in the back of his mind, but it comes alive late at night.

You're an entirely different person by now, someone who he hasn't had the opportunity to meet yet. You're probably married, maybe you even have a few kids running around, Leon's jealous of that. That could've been him, but it's not. But he's not even sure if you'd recognize each other if you passed by on the street, so is it even worth it to dwell on all the maybe's?

"I'm not sure I'll get to visit you for a while, not without a lucky fucking twist of fate, anyway."

All these letters are starting to sound the same, but Leon clings onto the thought of someday sending them to whatever corner of the country you were hiding in and hoping that there's still room in your life for a stranger.

"Do you still want me over for dinner? You don't know what I'd give to just eat a shitty meal with you right now."

You don't know what he'd give to do anything with you, really. He knows that there's a lifetime worth of things he's missed out on and that maybe every once in a while you think about him in the same way he thinks about you.

"I don't know how to ask this, but are you married? I know you'd look stunning in a wedding dress." You probably are, you're a catch, who wouldn't want to put a ring on your finger? Your husband's probably a better man than he is, too. One who hasn't had years worth of trauma jammed into his brain with the proof of it marked across his body, your husband probably takes you out on a date every week, maybe even surprises you with breakfast in bed and kisses the nape of your neck to gross out your kids. "I really hope you're happy, in my head you are.

I wanted that to be us, I never told you, but I was a chicken-shit kid and didn't know how to say it. You show up in my dreams sometimes, you deserve nothing but the best. I meant to get back in touch with you forever ago, but I think it's probably too late.

– Leon"

–

Two years after his last letter and Leon's still thinking of you, seventeen years after Raccoon City and the image of you sitting across from him for the last time still loops in his mind. He doesn't really remember your voice but he knows that you thought handwritten letters were romantic, and he still reads over the ones he meant to send to you but kept avoiding.

He's done with the letters, hasn't written one in a long time. But he just got back from California and your old favorite song is playing on the radio, and he's remembering how in love he is with your memory.

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm too old for this and I'm sure you'd tease me if we had somehow kept in touch. I don't blame you if you thought I died in Raccoon City, I hope you're still alive and that life is good to you.

You were always important to me, I think you've given me something to cling to over the years. This letter won't find you and I'm not even really sure if I want it to, but I hope you'd still call me if you were able to. You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, but I'm happy you never got to see them.

Love, Leon

p.s. I'd say I love you but it feels like something you'd say in person"

[kwamiwayzz]

Do you have any jeckole Headcanons?

Or:

Jecka Headcanons/Nicole Headcanons (seperatly)

<33

Brain rot coming in. I also want to mention that a majority of these headcanons are rooted in my “Jeckole moving away after graduation and eventually healing years later despite still being a bit fucked up” headcanon. Some headcanons are also inspired by the ones from people who were once super active in the fandom months ago.

Jecka ends up getting accepted to a university in California which leads to her ticket out of her shitty town (she starts with Undecided for some time but ends up choosing pre-med to eventually become a doctor).

Nicole ends up tagging along with her out of convenience at first (she was a bit hesitant at first because she knows she’ll probably bring Jecka down whatever bullshit she gets herself into, but it beats being alone). She also ends up moving out with Jecka because LA is where she’s wanted to go for some time. Also, her mom was actually planning on kicking her out for good (even though her loser brother still gets to freeload).

I personally see Nicole as someone who suffers from extreme depression and self-worth issues due to her upbringing and is more on the cusp of having ASPD (but also, I’m still learning about ASPD, so correct me if it doesn’t work that way).

Jecka has the capability of becoming as fucked up and abusive as her dad. I mostly say this from the scene in Flip Side where she yells at Crispin telling him to off himself, unprovoked.

I also see Jecka as a potential alcoholic with anger issues (if she stayed with her dad any further).

Nicole has a form of cPTSD from her unstable environment and the implication that one of her stepfathers abused her. Even if she were to be placed in a stable environment after high school, the damage has already been done, and she’d still find ways to fuck it up because she every time she felt genuinely a little happy/satisfied with her living situation, it would disappear in puff of smoke.

Nicole ends up on meds and therapy years after moving out of Virginia, but it’s off-and-on.

Jecka also goes on meds and therapy after having a mental breakdown in med school and also after shoving Nicole against a book case during one of their arguments (she’s more consistent with it than Nicole).

During their time living in LA together, Nicole goes homeless three separate times, with one of them being her getting kicked out after Jecka finally had enough of her shit. The last time Nicole goes homeless, it’s after having an extremely difficult time adjusting to the meds and therapy and her cPTSD makes her want to leave because actual stability was getting too real for her.

Despite kicking her out for her bullshit, Jecka still lets Nicole live with her because she’s still codependent on her. Nicole is one of the few people she can be her fucked up self around, and also asked her to come to LA because she didn’t want to be alone either.

Nicole is 1/4 Asian on her dad’s side.

Following Progman’s fic, Jecka sees herself as Nicole’s savior but not entirely in an “I can fix her” type of way.

The only people from high school they still keep in touch with is Emily, with Kelly and Ari added after meeting again at a bar a decade later.

Even though Jecka’s doctor money keeps them both afloat, Nicole ends up working at a bar as a consistent job just to keep herself busy.

The only person from Jecka’s family that she keeps in touch with is her mom. She stays in contact with her dad for financial reasons, but cuts him off after she doesn’t need him anymore.

Nicole cuts off everyone from her family.

Nicole ends up getting sleeve tattoos after being sober from cutting for a significant period of time (I don’t know what the designs would be though).

aurawra21 also mentioned this, but Nicole would probably lean more towards a masc/butch look years after high school. This would include chopping her hair to shoulder length.

I also agree with the general headcanon that Jecka would have abs and have a more toned body compared to Nicole’s stick noodle-like figure.

Nicole would be the type to throw Jecka’s textbook out the window to force her to take a break while studying for med school.

Nicole is a secret nerd/geek (knowing that manga should be read from right to left, liking Mythbusters, used to play video games with her brother—all mentioned somewhere in the original game and Re-Up).

If she cared about school more, Nicole’s favorite subject would probably be chemistry.

Jecka sometimes gets very overprotective over Nicole especially after 1) getting shot by the crazy cop (Re-Up), 2) having nightmares of running to Nicole too late during the People Pleaser Route (Class of ‘09 Suicide Ending), 3) finding out Nicole overdosed/got poisoned by opioids during the very last time she went homeless (Future Timeline headcanon).

I sometimes see Jecka as a pretty neurotic person, who tries and fails to hide it.

When really affectionate, Jecka really loves to kiss Nicole’s neck (angsty reasons in one of my original posts lol).

The two simultaneously make each other better and worse.

They enter an off-and-on situationship for a number of years until they decide to get court married for the benefits.

They wear fake marriage rings when out in public in an effort to try and ward off desperate men. It doesn’t always work, but they’ll never admit to each other that they actually do like wearing them.

Aaaannnddd these are the most that I’ve remembered at the top of my head. I might add more as time goes on, but I love the idea of them reaching adulthood and becoming somewhat more well-adjusted over time.

[gothamite-rambler]

Tim's and Konnor first kiss

Context: This is just my headcanon where Tim did date Konnor, it didn't work out and then later when he fully realized he was bisexual and reconnected with Bernard he started dating him. Because why pick on ship when you can have both and write ship script fics about it? Plus I do secretly headcanon Tim as being the opposite of Jason and he's great at dating and flirting even when he's being a nerd. Tim is the third Robin and has been questioning his sexuaility, but finds himself attracted to both genders and he has though Konnor was foine! Issue is while Konnor has been out of the closet for a few years, Tim isn't sure the superhero would want to be with him. So he shoots his shot, will he get that kiss?

Red Robin yawned as Konnor Kent discussed the plan to sneak into LexCorp. Though he usually managed three to four hours of sleep, sometimes exhaustion crept in. Still, he wasn't complaining—he was next to Konnor. The boy's effervescent energy always kept him focused.

Konnor (eagerly): If we go here, here, and here, we can drop down there and take them out. That way, we get everything squared away.

Robin glanced over the blueprints Konnor had drawn himself and nodded.

Robin (genuine): Good plan.

Konnor (surprised): That's it?

Robin (casually): Yeah. Were you expecting me to say something else?

Konnor (confused): You usually pick apart other plans, and by the end of it, the whole thing is changed. You do a good job at that—don’t get me wrong—but there’s nothing you want to fix on mine?

Robin chuckled, resting his arm on the table.

Robin (light-hearted): For others, I would, but yours has a lot of thought put into it, and you know Lex's buildings better than I do. It's a solid plan.

Konnor (smiling softly): I mean, I’m not just some dumb guy who can fly and is super strong. I have layers. Some people misunderstand that about me. I can be really good at planning, too. Thanks, Robin.

Tim (smiling): No one else is around, dude. You can call me Tim.

Konnor (perking up): Seriously? Cool! I felt weird saying "Robin" at times. "Tim Drake" is a more badass name.

Tim (smiling, sweet tone): Konnor isn't bad either.

Konnor (curious): Really? I always hated my name.

Tim (shrugging): You have a good name, regardless of the connotations it has. And I agree, you're not dumb—there are many great things about you.

Konnor (raising an eyebrow with a knowing smile): Tim, are you coming on to me?

Tim sat back, resting his arms behind his head.

Tim (coy tone): Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.

Konnor: Hm, all right. If I said you're attractive to me and I've been wanting to kiss you for months since coming out, what would your response be?

Tim chuckled, sitting up straight and scooching his chair closer to Konnor.

Tim: I'd say I've been feeling the same about you.

Konnor pouted, tapping his fingers on the table, contemplating whether this was Tim being truthful. He could hear the man's heartbeat slightly speeding up, but he wasn't sure if it was infatuation or deception.

Konnor (slightly dejected tone): I'm not going to lie, I'm worried this is a dumb trick you're pulling on me.

Tim tilted his head, his tired eyes reflecting confusion.

Tim: Hm? Why would you think that?

Konnor: Because you're straight, right? You were with Stephanie. Heck, I've even met your girlfriend before you got involved with Steph, and I'd rather not be your 'experiment.'

Konnor glanced at his blueprints, trying to concentrate on the mission rather than dwelling on the painful possibilities of "what if." However, he couldn’t help but notice Tim's expression shift from coy to anxious.

Tim (worry in his tone): No, no, no, you're not an experiment or anything like that. I'm not sure what I like because my brain isn't saying I only like women, but I don’t only like men. I—

Tim sighed, covering his eyes in embarrassment. Konnor turned in his chair to face his friend and took his hand gently.

Tim (softly): I met up with this old friend from high school, and after saving him as Robin and being with him… I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to be close to him like I was with a woman... but then he left. Then I noticed I felt that way for a while and when I see you, and I want that same thing. I still like women, but I… what am I?

Konnor chuckled, softly rubbing the top of Tim's hand.

Konnor (sympathetic tone): I went through something similar when I realized this when I came out. You might be bi, dear boy. Are… you okay?

Tim (sighing while keeping his head down): Yeah.

Konnor: Good, because you look like you've been holding that secret in for a long time. If I'm right, I don't want to assume anything. Sexuality is a weird spectrum, but I'm getting the feeling you aren't just straight or gay.

Tim (hesitantly): You're… right. It seems… It is... I mean... I am bisexual, I think.

Konnor smiled warmly.

Konnor: I'm here if you want to talk or… kiss. Both work.

Tim chuckled, taking his hand back to remove his eye mask.

Tim: I thought you didn't want that. I want to do that, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable; I really want to kiss you, but… I don’t know. God, I can't think of the right choice.

Konnor (softly): Since it's not a trick and you opened up to me, I feel more… reclined to let you have your first kiss with the perfect superhuman.

Tim smirked, trying to glare playfully at Konnor.

Tim: You know "inclined" is the right word, and that’s a bit of an ego trip… but no one else is here.

Konnor nodded, and Tim sighed, leaning in. Their lips met quickly at first, but Konnor pulled him back for a deeper kiss that left Tim stunned. His cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson, his eyes widening in surprise as he momentarily froze. His arms stayed at his sides for a heartbeat, but as they parted for a breath, Tim kissed Konnor again, feeling the man's hand rest gently against his neck.

Tim placed his hand on Konnor’s hip, pulling him closer and taking in a shaky breath. As the initial shock wore off, warmth spread through him, instinctively leaning into the kiss and melting into the connection between them.

He kept kissing Konnor, feeling his heartbeat race as the seconds slipped by. Feeling Tim's steady breath against his lips sent tingles down Konnor's spine. He lightly gripped Tim's arm, drawing him closer, feeling the undeniable strength and warmth radiating off him. In that moment, nothing else mattered; the world around them faded into a blur.

Tim's lips were soft yet confident, as if he were exploring the depths of Konnor’s emotions with every lingering brush. Konnor tightened his fingers around Tim's arm, pulling him in even closer, as if trying to fuse their bodies together.

As they broke apart, Konnor's breath mingled with Tim's, both panting slightly from the rush of adrenaline. Tim looked at him with an expression that blended surprise and something deeper, almost tender.

Then Tim promptly fell forward, his eyes rolling back in his head. Konnor caught him, letting his friend rest on his chest to prevent him from sliding onto his lap.

Konnor (jokingly): Yeah, don't want anyone walking in if you landed on my legs. I didn't know my kiss was that powerful.

Tim (dazed): To be fair, you're the first man I've kissed.

Konnor (fist pumping): All right!

Tim sat up and sighed happily, then covered his eyes in embarrassment, shaking his head.

Tim: Does this get ea—s

Konnor (interrupting): I'm gonna stop you there. When I came out as bi, it felt like I left this confined space; it made sense. I felt free, but that's just the beginning. Dating is the difficult part, but we can talk about that after the mission. We can go to the KFC combination Taco Bell afterward.

Tim (laughing): Is that a date?

Konnor returned to reviewing his blueprints but kept a sly smile on his face as he glanced at Tim.

Konnor: It can be, but LexCorp first.

Tim nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. The realization that he was bisexual felt surreal but in a good way. Konnor was right; it felt freeing. While he still had a lot to learn about himself, it felt good to have an answer.

[fuumiku]

It was Maid Day today yesterday a week ago so I got struck by inspiration to draw the worsties, and it ran away from me into a whole AU where they’re coworkers at a maid cafe. She’s a med student & this is just a part time job, and this is his depression job while he gets his life back together. He needs something he can be workaholic about to forget what it’s like having a personal life and personal issues. He’s actually the accountant, but the new hire janitor (Izutsumi) doesn’t show up for half her shifts and is a sloppy worker, so he gets the extra work of doing her job on top of his because he’s undervalued and overworked. Of course, janitors also have an uniform to keep the aesthetic cohesion as they go about cleaning the place, of course.

Senshi’s the part time cook you only see slivers off, he’s kind and warm when you do see him and have a chat but most shifts he’s in and out the kitchen without a trace. Laios and Falin are regulars because Falin and Marcille are besties & in the same med school, Laios accompanies Falin as she visits her friend at work and gets hooked on the food. Chilchuck has to remind Marcille to work instead of chatting with Falin for an hour, and next thing he knows she’s distracting him from work too. That’s it that’s the AU. Inspired by this idol AU fanart a bit <3

This was not meant to be birthday gift but well…… Happy bday Chil!!!

Read from left to right

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[thebroccolination]

THE EX-MORNING SERIES CONCEPT

By now I think many people have heard that KristSingto’s upcoming series is an original script that was written for them. What we also have confirmed is that it was written about them.

[source]

KRIST: This series was written by P'Backaof and directed by P'Lit where they created this script from the start deliberately for the two of us and they got information for the characters etc. from KristSingto directly. In the series, the name for P'Sing is Tamtawan, and my name is Phatapi. And Tamtawan Tamtawan and Phatapi are KristSingto themselves.

INTERVIEWER: Does that mean you play yourself?

KRIST: [laughing] Yes, we act as ourselves, so it's not difficult at all.

Today, Aof elaborated on his part on Twitter:

[source: @backaof]

[translation: @_beinglistener]

And Jojo added:

[source: @jojotichakorn]

[translation: @_beinglistener]

So, two gay men are the leading creative minds behind KristSingto’s comeback series. Time to study up on your KristSingto history, kids. \:D/

Long live sanctioned RPF. 🎉

[magpie-trove]

%

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Outdrawn

f/f contemporary romance

two cartoonist who’ve been rivals since uni, and now have competing webcomics online, have to work together on the relaunch of a cult classic at the comic press they both work at

they both struggle with art-related physical and mental health issues, and complicated families

[adrianicsea]

i acknowledge that it’s ultimately silly and frivolous and parasocial to be upset about the actions of a celebrity but like. god i used to think rob was SO so fucking cool and like… what happened? where did all of that passion go? saying the word “sellout” now may seem like a foregone conclusion or like “oh you’re just now getting that memo?” but like. god damn.

[didnt-hear-idsb-live-again]

I actually feel so sick to my stomach trying to decide between this Free People job and the one I currently have why does the current one have to pay so fucking well and Free People have to pay so fucking bad