#like one chapter + adding in an extra character

[paintingpuff]

Aromantic Media Recommendation

I thought for pride this year my aroace ass could recommend another comic that I’ve been enjoying recently. 

While I do really love seeing aromanticism/asexuality represented in media, a lot of the stories that advertise themselves with those labels are also explicitly about being asexual/aromantic, with grounded stories about discovering oneself and coming out and such. I’m more of a scifi/fantasy/adventure enjoyer, so I like it more when those stories also happen to include aroace characters (like In Stars and Time), but even then, the aroace elements are limited to a specific character. I love discussions about amatonormativity and heteronormativity in queer circles, but it is rare for a story’s larger plot and themes to be interested in these subjects. 

That is why I wanted to talk about Surviving Romance.

Unlike I Want to Be a Wall, this story doesn’t have explicitly asexual/aromantic characters (there is only one explicitly queer character), but the story overall has very, very aromantic themes that I felt others may enjoy. 

It starts as a pretty standard isekai, with the main girl Chaerin Eun having been transported into the main role of her favorite romance novel. However, the book suddenly gets derailed by a zombie apocalypse, and she loops back to the morning every time she dies. 

No longer able to rely on the main male love interests, Chaerin must instead depend on the help of her classmates. However, much like a lot of animes, all the side characters only appear as indistinct silhouettes to her. If she wants to find out what they look like she has to build a connection with them. 

What follows is a story that emphasizes the importance of friendship over romantic relationships, and solidarity between women as opposed to fighting each other over a man. 

It’s a complete story that is pretty bingeable, sitting at around 100 chapters total. It was first released on Webtoon, but if you don’t want to deal with the ads there, you can find it on other sites. (Important note though, the Webtoon version includes background music to enhance the experience, if you want that without going through Webtoon you’ll have to find it manually)

Since this is a pitch, I’ll be staying away from more severe spoilers, but below the cut I will talk a bit more in depth, along with some hints at how the story ends, so if you want to go in truly blind, you should stop here.

Something I want to assure aromantic readers is that the story does not back out of its anti-romance themes, like pairing up every character at the last minute. The majority of the characters - especially the main girl - end the story without a romantic partner. 

While this may disappoint some, since Chaerin has very good chemistry with the other girls, I think the story would have fundamentally messed up its themes if it did so.

But it is not just the focus on friendship over romance that makes the story feel more aromantic than others, it also has a lot of elements that critique amatonormativity. 

Take the silhouetting of the ‘extras’ - while at first just an interesting vehicle for tension, it also speaks to the isolation that amatonormativity encourages. Chaerin was completely disconnected from her classmates before the apocalypse, only focusing on the male love interests because they were the only faces she could see, and it made her very lonely. Moreover, Chaerin’s desire to replicate all the plot beats of the romance book at first could represent how amatonormativity lays out a very specific path - find your singular soulmate, get married, have kids - that people sometimes follow merely out of social pressure or assumption that there is no other way. The story is about breaking out of both this isolation and complacency. 

There is plenty more to analyze about the story, and maybe I’ll do an in depth aromantic analysis of it in the future, but I’ll leave it here for now. 

Because the story isn’t just special because of its aromantic themes, it’s also just plain fun. 

Which is maybe a weird way to describe a zombie apocalypse - a genre I used to enjoy but have since grown tired of due to its tendency towards nihilism and misanthropy. Surviving Romance is a horror webcomic, with a decent amount of gore and zombie apocalypse tropes (hiding their infection, petty arguing, Giga Zombies), but the added twist of the romance novel setting makes it all so much more interesting. For example, the zombies’ also look like silhouettes to Chaerin, but they are…corrupted. 

This isn’t just for aesthetics. Chaerin’s silhouette vision gives her an explicit advantage against the zombies, since it allows her to pinpoint the movement of the zombie infection before it’s visible on the outside of the body. 

This also delves into eldritch horror when the zombies begin to distort. The audience is only given the messed up silhouette and must infer from the reactions of the other characters just how much bent and broken flesh was required to construct such monstrosities. It makes the Giga Zombies in this story come across as a lot more frightening than in other zombie media.  

But despite its horror, Surviving Romance is a lot less nihilistic and misanthropic than other zombie apocalypse stories. As mentioned before, it is about getting to know the rest of the ensemble cast, and even though there is a lot of petty fighting among them, the story is ultimately empathetic and kind toward their plight. A huge part of the story is about the regaining of hope through community with others. Most of the story is getting to know Chaerin’s classmates, and while some get more attention from the narrative than others, every single one is given at least one standout moment. The chemistry Chaerin has with them is very endearing, and by the end of it you will be very attached to the entire ensemble. Even when the story does include very very evil humans, they are so outnumbered by the kind and sympathetic characters that the story inevitably drifts away from misanthropy. 

The story also does a good job of unraveling its mystery, always making sure to introduce new questions before answering old ones. Putting this alongside the dozens of character dynamics that emerge from such a large class, the fun cycle of revealing each new character design, as well as a visually striking zombie threat, it’s very hard to stop reading once you start. 

It’s an incredible piece that makes me aspire to make something like it one day, and if you haven’t read it yet I highly recommend it!

[regular-human-being]

Many a time have I received comments theorising the ending of a fic, but this might be the one time that I actually rejig a few things

[kirishwima]

lord im not ready to be introduced to yet another love&deepspace character, like. first it was rafayel then sylus i have No More Brain Space for another hot fictional man

[missadangel]

⊱AMOR MEUS AETERNUS⊰ I Masterlist

(Marcus Acacius x Ofc)

little preview is under the information!!

Summary:  You are an assistant to a costume designer on a busy movie set, where the pressure is high and the work is exhausting. One difficult evening during a lunar eclipse, you suddenly spot a man in a Roman military outfit materializing out of nowhere. At first, you think he’s just a drunk or a bit off his rocker. Unbeknownst to you, he is General Marcus Justus Acacius, who has time-traveled from 205 AD to 2025. authors note: It's a bit of a romantic-comedy-drama stuff because Marcus doesn't know that he traveled to 2025, LMAO poor baby (and you know I'm a hopeless romantic). I'll explain in more detail in chapters why he ended up here and what led him to meet the reader, but I'm avoiding spoilers. And the reader will help him get back to his time but accidentally travel to ancient Rome because of something; i can't talk more, lol. Wait for the episodes, please thank youuuu. if you wanna be tagged lemme know! every chapter will be its own warning and music theme Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Reader (Her name is Rose and her hair is dyed) Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI, Smut Warnings: Harsh, cold, grumpy Marcus, and the reader is NOT innocent a little bitchy, Lucilla is mean, Lucius is a jerk(but falls in love with reader), its Septimius Severus' era but Geta and Caracalla are the prince of Rome, time travel, modern-ancient era travels, falling in love, slow burn, rough sex, smut, sex, oral sex (both f&m receiving), all sex, dirty talk, gladiators, battle, war, violence, blood, ancient time language, fluffy, injury, forced marriage, arranged marriage, sexism, haters to lovers, first love, angst, vestal virgins, vestal priestesses, age gap; reader is 25 Marcus is 45, reincarnation my masterlist

Little preview from chapter 1....

-------This wasn’t the first time you’d encountered someone like him. He had to be one of those extras, probably underpaid and known for causing trouble on set. He likely hadn’t bothered to change out of his costume and was relishing his small role in this odd setting.

“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble, but I really need you to take off that costume. I’m responsible for the outfits, and if anything happens to it, it’ll come out of my pay, okay? Didn’t anyone give you a heads-up about this?” You stepped closer, but he just froze like a statue, clearly sizing you up. 

Taking another look, you noticed the armor under his robe was totally different from anything you’d ever seen. Were they filming something new without you? That couldn’t be right—or worse, what if he’d swiped it? Great. You reached out for a closer look, but before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, spun you around, and shoved you away like it was nothing.

“Aaaah!” You winced, clutching your sore wrist, glaring at him in frustration. “Are you out of your mind? Get those clothes off right now! Can’t you hear me? Are you deaf or what?” 

The guy sighed as he wiped his sword with the hem of his robe and sheathed it as if he were doing it every day. He did it with such flair that even a top-notch actor would be impressed.  

“I see you’ve been really getting into character. Nice job!” you quipped with a hint of sarcasm. “But like I said, I need to grab the costume. So, come on, take it off.”  

"What kind of shameless woman are you to demand that I undress?"

What the hell was that? The accent, thick and unfamiliar, rolled off his tongue in a way you had never encountered before. It felt like a whisper from another age, as if echoes of ancient times were woven into each word he spoke.--------

ao3 link

I. Sol Invictus

II. Tensio

III. Amor Primus

IV. Matrimonium

V. Confessio

VI. coming soon

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Babylon The Great Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, severe mental health issues, self-harm and suicidal ideation, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, eventual happy ending.

Series Summary

There's something wrong with you that's not wrong with other people. You're a hunter, and a damn good one, but you might be a monster.

There might be something in you that needs to be put down. Something broken that can't be fixed.

It's why you've had one rule your whole life. The only thing your father has ever made clear is that, no matter what, you need to stay away from John Winchester. He can't even know you exist, or he'll kill you and never blink.

And when your paths cross a hunt, you should've run, but you didn't. You couldn't. Because you looked at Dean Winchester, and something changed inside of you. Something called you to him, and you can't figure out what it was, but you know it's strong. And you know that, whatever Dean's doing to you, you don't really care to fight it. Things are broken in you, just as much is broken in him, and you fit perfectly together in a way you'll never be able to describe.

But it's more complicated than that, though. The world pulls you and Dean apart again and again.

And you find your way back, again and again.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant rewrite, but primarily plot wise. Think of it as we're cooking with all the same ingredients (i.e lore, characters, setting, and backstory) but with one change (you) that gets us to a drastically different ending.

What the means is that there will be a lot of similar plot points to Supernatural, but the further we go through the story the more it will diverge. I've also take some creative labor with the reader, adding lore that's defiantly not a part of canon, but crucial to this story.

If you have any questions about this, feel free to ask! If not, I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - In My Brain and In My Blood Chapter 2 - Under My Skin Chapter 3 - I Get A Little Dizzy Chapter 4 - You Bleed Like Me Chapter 5 - If You Let Me Chapter 6 - All The Noise Chapter 7 - Something I Can See Chapter 8 - Keep Us Far Apart Chapter 9 - Does The Feeling Haunt You Chapter 10 - Look and See Chapter 11 - You Might Drown Chapter 12 - Watch You Work The Room Chapter 13 - You'll Have to Believe It Chapter 14 - Water Is Forever Chapter 15 - Before It Falls Apart Chapter 16 - Try to Catch It Chapter 17 - You Come Back Chapter 18 - You Can Start to Make It Better Chapter 19 - That's Nothing New Chapter 20 - Wait for Me Chapter 21 - If You Want To Survive Chapter 22 - I'd Go Black And Blue Chapter 23 - You've Been Waiting to Break Chapter 24 - Just Hold On Chapter 25 - And It Was Written Chapter 26 - Worth the Fight Chapter 27 - When You Go (7/3)

Pslams (In-Series Bonus Chapters)

Can You Hear Me - You sit on the roof of your car. Takes place a month after Chapter 15. I'll Keep On Waiting - Dean watches you, and Jo shares some thoughts. Takes place after Chapter 19. So Go On - Sam Chapter! Takes place after Chapter 20. Spinning Around - You, Dean, and allegedly Sam go to the movies. Takes place between Chapter 19 and Chapter 20. Just Pretend - You and Dean have some dreams. Takes place almost any time after Chapter 20. On My Way - Dean looks at some fruits. Takes place around Chapter 23.

Extras From Me

Listen to the Playlist! Memes!

Stuff By You Guys!!! (Art, Memes, and Anything more)

Meme Art by @dammbi Dean Art by @dammbi Memes 1, and 2, by @dammbi Soul Art by @youdontknowe Princess Art by @youdontknowe Language Art by @imnotmentallyst4ble Princess Moodboard by @deans-yn Playlist by @imnotmentallyst4ble Series Moodboard by @dammbi Journal Spread by @imnotmentallyst4ble Memes by @brtodd Princess and Dean Art by @youdontknowe Princess Marilyn Monroe Art by @youdontknowe Princess Art by @youdontknowe Knife and Blade Art by @youdontknowe

[horrendoushag]

just pasted 2200 words from the last draft let's gooo

also I hit 50k yesterday. if u even care.

love the parts of this rewrite where I get to copy and paste huge chunks of text from the previous draft.... like yesss I'm meeting my word count goal and I'm only cheating a little bit

[aceecee]

Masterlist

Links to everything I've written. MDNI.

Feel free to request something!

Let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist for a certain series or upcoming oneshot. I'll always keep them open <3

Disclaimer: I mostly write yanderes and I like to dwelve into dark themes sometimes. I will not write explicit rape, underage, incest etc. Do not interact if any of these things bother you.

Series

Credit to the amazing @uzmacchiato for the dividers

Insatiable - 🔞

Honestly it was on you to think that they all would leave you alone. That you could enjoy your second chance in life without them by your side. You're not going anywhere.

MC | Caleb | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

Extras: #1 | #2 | #3 | #4 | #5 | #6 | #7 | #8 | #9

Miseria - 🔞

Synopsis: Six different timelines. In each one you find yourself taking over the life of an extra in the game you had been so smitten with. In each life you’re different, whether it’s a different job, or where you live and even your personality. But only one thing remains constant, you’re determined to avoid them. You’re not in the body of the MC so it’s not like they’ll even notice. Right?

You really shouldn’t have underestimated them.

Alternatively:

MC: Student falls too hard for her professor. I'd suggest running but she's already in your closet.

Caleb: Your ex decides you're getting back together. Your consent is not needed!

Zayne: Local handsome doctor man will keep you chained up!

Sylus: Father of twins takes their crush for himself!

Xavier: Alien boy likes his supervisors head pats way too much!

Rafayel: Actual siren lures in singer nicknamed Siren!

+ ???

Euphoria - being written!🔞

Caleb x non!mc reader

He has no idea why you've caught his attention, so he watches you to determine the answer. It doesn't help. He falls further and further until he's so tangled in your web, nothing else matters.

He shouldn't like feeling this way as much as he does.

Salvage - 🔞

Sylus x non!mc reader

To save from destruction, damage or ruin.

In other words, please let him fix it.

Prologue | Chapter 1

Oneshots

Original characters:

Serial Killer - being written! 🔞

Only you could seduce a monster hellbent on adding you to his long list of victims. Now, he's never letting you go.

[sowerpatch]

terms of play [chapter 1 - the expansion play]

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Summary: Azzi Fudd built the Golden Valkyries on a dare, but drafting Paige Bueckers was all strategy. Fresh off an NCAA title, Paige is everything the team needs—and everything Azzi shouldn’t want.

Officially, it’s all business. Unofficially, it’s glances that linger too long and touches that mean too much.

Author's note: this is an AU where Azzi owns the Golden State Valkyries and drafts Paige. Azzi's family are all original characters. Also, Azzi is three years older than Paige.

*CHAPTER LIST HERE*

Chapter Summary: After a challenge at a family dinner, billionaire real estate property developer Azzi Fudd decides to start a WNBA expansion team. With a sharp team behind her and a clear vision, she builds the Golden State Valkyries in San Francisco. As the 2025 draft approaches, all signs point to one player—UConn’s Paige Bueckers. While Paige dominates the court, Azzi quietly prepares a franchise that’s not just ready to win—but built with her in mind.

Fudd Private Estate, Northern California. August 2023. 

Dinner was almost done, the last of the grilled sea bass cleared, the conversation slipping into its usual rhythm of real estate forecasts and international zoning headaches. Out on the terrace, string lights blinked above marble columns, glowing like fireflies. Inside, the table gleamed—mahogany polished to a perfect shine, linen napkins folded into neat triangles. 

Azzi sat between her mother and her older brother, Trey. Legs crossed, watching the slow swirl of wine in her glass. She had been quiet most of the evening, letting her brothers talk over each other the way they always did when the market was up and their egos were sharper than usual. 

“You closed the Charleston deal?” she asked finally, cutting through Trey’s retelling of a boardroom clash. 

Her eldest brother, James, nodded as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “We came in two-point-eight billion over the projections. Construction begins in six months.” 

Their father gave a grunt of approval. Their mother hummed and reached for her water. 

Azzi glanced across the table. “And what are you doing with all that extra goodwill, Jimmy?” 

He smirked. “Redeveloping a dying downtown district and renaming the park after myself.” 

Trey laughed. “Philanthropy at its finest.” 

“Speaking of,” James added, turning toward her, “You’ve been busy handing out grants again. New initiative for girls’ sports, right?” 

Azzi nodded. “Three new training facilities. One in Detroit, two in Phoenix. Fully operational by spring.” 

Trey raised his glass in mock toast. “Saving the world, one blueprint at a time.” 

She gave him a sidelong look. “Is there a point coming?” 

“There is,” he said, grinning. “You’re always writing checks. But I’m wondering when you’ll stop funding things and actually build something that isn’t a foundation.” 

“I build all the time.” 

James leaned in, elbows on the table. “We mean something that moves. Something alive. You’ve got the money, the backing, the public image.” 

“Start a team,” Trey said, a little too casually. “Something new. From the ground up. You want to talk about real change in women’s sports? That’s where it happens.” 

Azzi blinked slowly, caught by the shift in tone. “You want me to build a team.” 

Trey shrugged. “Why not?” 

James added, “It’s not like you’re risk-averse. You took on a $600 million flood zone in Miami. A team is a child’s play.” 

“It’s also far outside my scope,” she replied, voice calm. “I don’t follow leagues. I don’t know the system.” 

“You didn’t know how to navigate renewable infrastructure either,” Trey said. “Now you’re advising senators.” 

She exhaled, quiet but thoughtful. Her wine glass hung between her fingers as she stared toward the edge of the terrace, where the hills disappeared into shadows. 

“A team in what league?” 

Trey didn’t hesitate. “WNBA.” 

The name lingered in the air. 

Azzi gave a short laugh. “You’re joking.” 

“We’re not,” James said. “It’s still expanding. They’re opening the door for new franchises. You’d be one of the few female owners, if not the youngest. And your last name doesn’t hurt.” 

Trey grinned. “Besides, you’re the only one of us who’d actually do it well.” 

There was a long pause. Azzi’s eyes stayed fixed on the dark horizon, her thoughts already moving faster than her brothers could see. 

Without looking back, she lifted her glass and took a slow sip, the stem steady between her fingers. 

Trey watched her closely. “So?” 

Azzi didn’t answer right away. Her eyes lingered on the hills beyond the terrace, where the last light was slipping beneath the edge of the vineyard. 

“I never asked for a challenge,” she said, voice low. “But I don’t walk away from one either.” 

James smirked. “That’s not a yes.” 

She gave a faint smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “Isn’t it?” 

Their mother let out a quiet sigh, already sensing the shift in air. 

But Azzi was somewhere else entirely. Her mind moved fast and silent, calculating what a new venture would demand. She didn’t know the system, hadn’t followed the structure or rhythm of this world. It would take work, leverage, timing, instinct. 

And still, the idea pulled at her. 

Not because she cared about the game. But because something about it was unclaimed. 

She let the silence stretch, the glass poised just below her lips. 

Then, without another word, she stood and slipped out onto the terrace. 

Inside, her brothers watched her go, unsure if they’d won or simply opened a door she had already planned to walk through. 

- 

Fudd Holdings, New York. September 2023. 

The skyline beyond Azzi’s glass walls was cold steel and soft morning light. The city stirred beneath her, a quiet hum barely reaching the forty-second floor. From here, everything felt still—like the world was waiting for her next move. 

She stood in silence, coffee cooling in her hand, gaze fixed beyond the horizon. Her calendar buzzed every eight minutes, but none of it mattered right now. Not the Zurich call. Not the Dallas rezoning conflict. Not the gala prep in New York. 

The only thing on her desk was a sealed manila folder. Franchise proposal templates. Expansion forecasts. A league dossier annotated in someone else’s hand. 

She hadn’t opened it. 

But she hadn’t thrown it away either. 

Behind her, the door opened without a knock. Only one person in the building had that kind of clearance. 

“You’re either planning to buy a spaceship,” said Nika Mühl, walking in without slowing, “or you’re finally giving in and building that team.” 

Azzi didn’t turn. “Is that what people think?” 

“Well, your brothers certainly do. And you’ve been moody ever since that dinner. I don’t like when you get quiet. You make headlines after.” 

Azzi gave the smallest of smiles, still looking out the window. “You’re dramatic.” 

“I’m Croatian,” Nika replied. “We don’t do subtle.” 

She crossed the room with practiced ease, tablet tucked under one arm, white sneakers a sharp contrast against the black stone floor. Chief Operating Officer of Fudd Holdings by title, but she'd been Azzi's best friend since their freshman year at Harvard. Back when Azzi was the one skipping finance lectures and Nika was the one dragging her back with coffee and tactical guilt. 

Now, Nika handled billion-dollar contracts, kept Azzi’s empire standing, and had a habit of knowing exactly when to walk in without knocking. 

She stopped beside her. “So. Team?” 

Azzi said nothing. 

Nika clicked her tongue. “You do realize it’s not like ordering room service, right? You don’t just build a team. You build a front office. A scouting system. A market presence. A brand. A culture.” 

“That’s why I have you.” 

“Wrong,” Nika said, folding her arms. “You have me because I’m good at telling you when something’s a horrible idea.” 

Azzi finally turned to face her, leaning a shoulder against the window. Her voice was low, almost amused. “And is this one?” 

“I don’t know yet. But I know you. If you’re thinking about it this much, you’re already in. You just haven’t said it.” 

Azzi didn’t reply. 

Nika’s tone shifted. “You’d be the first. The youngest owner. A woman. A woman of color. It’ll rattle every boardroom on both the West and East Coasts. Your face will also land a cover in Time Magazine’s Most Influential People of2023.” 

“Good,” Azzi said softly. 

Nika smirked. “I should’ve known. You’ve already started.” 

Azzi walked to her desk, ignoring the tablet Nika had placed beside the folder. She picked up a plain notepad instead. Paper clean and waiting. 

She wrote one word. 

Then paused. 

There were no names yet. No colors. No city she was ready to claim. Just the shape of something she hadn’t fully spoken aloud. 

She stared at the page for a long moment. 

Nika leaned against the desk. “You know if you do this, you’re going to have to live in the same headlines you usually avoid. Press. Interviews. Every move picked apart.” 

“I don’t mind being watched,” Azzi said, pen still in hand. 

“What about being underestimated?” 

Azzi glanced up at her. “That’s never been my problem.” 

Outside, the clouds had begun to thin. A shaft of light cut through the skyline and landed across the desk. 

Azzi closed the notebook and slid it into the drawer. 

“Can you tell Ines to clear my afternoon?” 

“For what?” Nika asked, already pulling out her phone. 

Azzi didn’t answer. She just turned back toward the window, her expression unreadable. 

From this height, the world looked like something she could bend in her hands. And maybe, if she wanted, she would. 

- 

WNBA League Headquarters, Manhattan. November 2023. 

The room smelled faintly of polish and ego. Neutral walls, thick glass table, the kind of chairs designed to keep meetings short. Still, Azzi looked comfortable. Unbothered in black. Her tailored coat hung off the back of her seat, and she hadn’t touched the espresso served when she arrived. 

Across from her sat four executives, each with a pen, a notepad, and a carefully curated expression. 

“This isn’t a typical ownership proposal,” one of them finally said, glancing at the file open in front of him. “You’re young. Unaffiliated. No prior league ties. And no prior team experience.” 

Azzi didn’t blink. “And?” 

The man cleared his throat. “And we’re aware of your success. Real estate. Development. Media. But this is a different ecosystem. A community. It’s built on history. Legacy.” 

“I’m not interested in legacy,” she said, flatly. “I’m interested in evolution.” 

The woman beside him leaned forward slightly. “You’re asking for an expansion license. That’s no small request for a young businesswoman. Why now?” 

Azzi met her eyes without hesitation. “Because you’re leaving value on the table. The interest is there. The numbers are climbing. Your audiences skew younger, more global, more invested than ever. But you’re still thinking like it’s 2003.” 

A beat of silence passed. Someone coughed. 

“I’m not here to collect a trophy franchise,” Azzi continued. “I’m here to build a flagship.” 

The tension in the room shifted. Not relaxed, exactly. But focused. 

They weren’t used to her. She knew that. 

She was the wrong type of billionaire. The kind who didn’t golf. The kind who read quarterly reports at midnight and refused to pretend she cared about playing nice. 

After a pause, the youngest executive spoke. “Your location request. Northern California. That market’s saturated.” 

“Not for women’s sports,” Azzi replied. “And not with the way I’ll brand it.” 

More notes were scribbled. Pages flipped. 

“You understand you’ll be responsible for hiring your own staff. GM. Coaching. Scouting. Facilities.” 

She nodded once. 

“And you’ll have full authority over your roster, should the board approve your inaugural draft position.” 

This time, Azzi didn’t reply. She just tilted her head slightly. Under the table, her phone buzzed once. A message from Nika. 

Top prospect in 2025. Bueckers. UConn. Championship run. Wings circling already. 

She locked the screen without reacting. 

One of the executives leaned back. “This is an aggressive timeline.” 

“I don’t need time,” Azzi said calmly. “I need a green light.” 

They all looked at each other. 

- 

Storrs, Connecticut. January 2024. 

The music hit like a pulse—loud, sticky, layered with bass. Bodies moved in waves around the living room, red cups lifted high, sweat clinging to necklines and the collarbones of people who hadn’t felt the October cold in hours. 

Paige was in the middle of it. 

Couch corner, backward cap, half-finished drink. Her legs draped casually over the side, one arm hooked behind the girl pressed close to her. Brown skin, bright eyes, a messy braid slipping down her shoulder. She laughed at something Paige murmured, then leaned in again. 

Paige smiled—half-cocky, half-distracted. She liked the ones who laughed easily. They didn’t ask for much. 

She didn’t remember this girl’s name. She wasn’t sure she ever got it. 

“You always this smooth?” the girl asked, fingers tracing lazy circles on Paige’s arm. 

“I like to keep my stats up,” Paige replied, letting the line sit between them like smoke. 

The girl grinned and tilted her head. “You’re bad.” 

Paige just raised her cup, took a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers. She didn’t need to try. People came to her like gravity. She played the role well—UConn’s golden girl, the smirk, the ease, the streak of charm that made teammates roll their eyes and strangers ask for photos. 

Across the room, KK Arnold pushed through the crowd like she had somewhere to be—shoulders squared, mouth moving before she even reached the couch. 

“Yo!” she shouted. “Turn that down—hold up, Paige—have you seen this?” 

The girl beside Paige pulled back slightly, frowning. Paige didn’t move. Just raised her eyebrows lazily. 

“I’m kinda busy, KK.” 

“No,” KK insisted, phone shoved halfway into Paige’s face. “You’re gonna want to see this.” 

Paige blinked. “This better be more important than whatever this is,” she said, gesturing vaguely at her lap. 

KK smirked. “It is.” 

She pressed play. 

A talking head. ESPN. Something about the league. Something about movement. Paige barely tuned in until she heard the word: 

“—expansion.” 

That snapped her straight. 

She reached for the phone now, sat up slightly. The girl she’d been entertaining gave a small noise of protest and slipped away, sensing the shift in energy. 

KK kept talking. “It’s not confirmed, but people are saying it’s happening. West Coast maybe. A new team. Just one.” 

“And?” Paige said, watching the loop replay, the headline scroll beneath the anchors. 

“And if it happens,” KK’s eyes were shining with excitement, “whoever they are, they’ll get the first pick in 2025.” 

Paige leaned back, silent now, eyes on the screen but brain already moving. 

She knew what first pick meant. 

She knew what she meant. 

A slow grin spread across her face, lazy and full of something dangerous. 

“Well,” she said, voice smooth, almost a drawl, “guess they better build something worth playing for.” 

KK laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” 

Paige tossed her cup aside, suddenly alive again. “Nah. I’m just real hard to impress.” 

She didn’t know yet who was building that team. Didn’t know where they were, or what they were planning. 

But she knew how expansion worked. 

If they were new, they were going to get first pick. 

And if she kept playing like this, there wasn’t going to be much of a debate. 

Paige let the thought settle as she sank back onto the couch, the music pulsing again through the floorboards. The party moved around her. Someone passed her a refill. Someone else grabbed her hand to pull her into a photo. 

She smiled, easy and practiced. 

Whatever came next, she’d be ready for it. 

She always was. 

- 

Azzi’s condo, San Francisco. February 2024. 

The city never fully slept, but her condo above it felt like it did. Clean lines, quiet corners, light reflecting off glass and steel. The only sound was the low buzz of her laptop fan and the occasional shift of the wind against the windows. Azzi had tuned the rest out. 

She sat barefoot at her desk, blazer thrown over the back of the chair, sleeves rolled past her elbows. A second espresso sat forgotten beside her—still warm, untouched. The hours had slipped without warning, and she hadn’t moved. 

Everything had started simple. 

Staff. Infrastructure. Nika had sent over a thick shortlist—coaching leads, analytics experts, trainers, logistics. All color-coded, with bullet-point histories and compensation expectations. Azzi had flagged a few. Deleted one with a note. Started typing thoughts into a shared doc that Nika would read by morning. 

That should’ve been the end of her night. 

But she had opened another folder. This one labeled Prospects. It wasn’t official. The draft was a year out. Still, Nika had her ear to the ground, and the expected names were already surfacing. 

There were plenty of talents. 

But only one name was bolded in red. 

Paige Bueckers. 

Azzi clicked into the file. Then into the links. And suddenly, she wasn’t reviewing a prospect. She was watching. 

Highlights first. Just a few. Crisp cuts, quick angles. UConn’s number five coming off a screen and launching a shot so fluid it made time pause. Behind-the-back passes. A stepback three that broke ankles. That same face again and again in the freeze-frames—focused, fierce, almost glowing. 

Then came the interviews. 

Paige under lights. Paige in locker rooms. Paige on late-night segments, quick with a grin, comfortable in her own skin. Her voice had a cadence Azzi didn’t expect. Confident, but easy. Flirty when she wanted to be, always a little amused with the attention she commanded. 

It was sometime after 2 a.m. when Azzi realized she hadn’t blinked in a while. 

The tabs were everywhere now—articles, game tape, UConn’s media guide, a podcast, a couple of poorly edited fan videos. One browser was open to Paige’s Instagram. There were more selfies than Azzi expected. More snapshots in hoodies, celebrations, dances, teammates wrapping arms around her shoulders. Her smile was wide in nearly all of them. 

There was one video—twenty seconds long—where Paige sat on a locker room bench after a win. Her hair was still damp, socks mismatched. She pointed at the camera, grinning like she knew exactly who was watching. 

“Y’all saw that pass, right?” she said. “I’m just saying MVP energy, don’t lie.” 

Azzi tilted her head at the screen. Then hit replay. 

She didn’t bother counting how many times she watched it. 

The city outside had turned ghost-quiet. Her espresso had gone cold. The time in the corner of her screen read 3:42 a.m. 

Azzi leaned back, the glow of the screen still lingering behind her eyes. The silence of the condo pressed in, heavy with everything left undone. 

This wasn’t about choosing a player. That decision had been obvious. 

Now came the hard part. 

She had to build something that deserved her. 

Not a placeholder roster. Not a name stitched on a jersey. Something real. Cohesive. Ruthless in its intention and sharp enough to match the edge that girl played with. 

Paige Bueckers wouldn’t say it out loud, but Azzi had seen it in every clip, every interview, every still image that refused to soften her. Paige would not play just to exist. She would need to win. To lead. To belong without shrinking.    Not to mention the insane number of her following and fanbase. Paige also influenced people in a way.  

Azzi stood and crossed the room, the city lights curling against the glass. Her reflection was sharp, watching. 

She had money. Influence. Time. 

What she needed now was vision. 

Something Paige would walk into and never want to leave. 

And Azzi would build it. Quietly. Precisely. 

-    Fudd Holdings, New York. March 2024. 

The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that followed focus. Sunlight spilled across the long table, where a half-dozen staff from operations and marketing sat poised, eyes forward. At the head stood Azzi, composed in tailored black, with Nika seated beside her. Ines, her ever-efficient assistant, flanked the opposite side. Amari DeBerry, recently appointed head of marketing, sat near the screen, hands clasped, alert. 

Azzi’s voice carried with clarity and purpose. 

“We’re establishing the franchise in San Francisco,” she said simply. “We’ve secured a long-term venue partnership, and I’ve approved residential development near the arena for housing and accessibility.” 

Murmurs of approval passed around the table. Amari nodded once, already scribbling in a notepad. 

Azzi tapped the remote and the screen behind her lit up. 

“The team name is set. Golden State Valkyries.” 

Another murmur. Nika let out a soft, impressed whistle. 

“Color palette is royal purple, white, black, and gold.” 

That got Nika’s attention. She didn’t speak, not yet, but her brow lifted slightly. Azzi didn’t look at her. 

“The branding team will have mockups by Friday,” Azzi continued. “Uniform concepts by next week. I want a balance of power and elegance. Iconography that’s timeless, not trendy.” 

The presentation slide shifted, revealing clean logo designs, jersey prototypes, and mock courts painted with deep violet and cold metallics. Strong, elegant. Sharp. 

Azzi continued, her gaze unwavering. “The direction is not simply aesthetic. The identity needs to match the face of the franchise.” 

She let the silence stretch, let the weight of her next words land with precision. 

“We’re drafting Paige Bueckers in 2025. And everything we build starts there.” 

The others nodded in agreement, energized, the tension turning to motion. 

“She’s a generational player,” Azzi said. “But more than that, she’s marketable. Composed. Smart. Charismatic. We’re not just acquiring talent. We’re setting the tone for who we are.”    Azzi answered a few questions here and there as she promised to send a copy of the presentation to each and everyone of them.    “We’re moving to the main office in San Francisco by the end of this month. All costs involving the transfer will be compensated and you will all receive an email from Finance and H&R.” Azzi’s tone was firm and final. Then Azzi looked at her Marketing Director. “Amari, I need you to start working on marketing strategies before this year’s WNBA draft. We want to launch the brand and team after the 2024 draft.”    Amari gave her a thumbs up before going back to her notepad. 

The presentation ended, clean and final. Staff offered quiet acknowledgments before rising and filing out.     Nika remained seated. She tilted her head toward the dark screen now dimming in sleep mode. 

“Purple?” she said, tone neutral, almost amused. 

Azzi didn’t look up. “It photographs well.” 

Nika lifted a brow. “So does navy. Or gray.” 

Azzi slid her tablet into her bag. “This feels distinct.” 

Nika leaned forward just slightly, eyes sharp. “It’s her favorite color.” 

Azzi's hand stilled over the zipper. “Is it?” 

“So you’re saying...” Nika 's voice was edged with mischief, “it’s just a branding strategy?” 

Azzi straightened, cool as ever. “It’s a strong visual.” 

Nika gave a soft, knowing smile. “Sure.” 

She didn’t press, but she didn’t need to. The implication hung between them—unspoken, but understood. 

- 

Somewhere in Florida. April 2024. 

The room smelled like last night—cheap beer, perfume, someone else's cigarettes. Paige sat on the edge of the bed, one sock on, shirt in her lap, scrolling through her phone without much urgency. Her head pounded faintly. She didn’t remember the girl's name. She didn’t try. 

The first thing that caught her attention wasn’t a text or a missed call. 

It was a headline. 

Breaking: WNBA Announces New Expansion Team — Golden State Valkyries 

She stilled. 

Logos, teaser clips, renderings of jerseys, arena mock-ups—her feed was full of it. Posts from ESPN, WNBA, Bleacher Report. Everyone had something to say. Some called it ambitious. Some called it overdue. Everyone agreed it was big. 

The name caught her. So did the sharp lines of the branding. There was something bold about it. Fast. Designed to be remembered. 

She kept scrolling, half-dressed, only stopping when KK’s name lit up on her screen. 

She answered. “What.” 

“Girly pop, tell me you’ve seen the news,” KK said, buzzing with energy. 

“I’m looking at it now, bruh.” 

“That’s it. That’s the team. You’re going there.” 

Paige tossed her shirt over her shoulder and reached for her shoes. “That's reach.” 

“Come on,” KK said. “They will draft you for sure! You’re the first pick next year. That team’s yours whether you like it or not.” 

Paige didn’t say anything for a beat. A few more posts flashed past—video edits already throwing her name into fake Valkyrie graphics. Speculation disguised as fact. 

She grabbed her keys off the nightstand and headed for the door. The other girl mumbled something into the pillow. Paige didn’t turn around. 

She stepped out into the morning. The season was already over but the future had a shape now.  

And it had her full attention. 

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Masterlist

Summary: A turn of events has the people you thought you trusted stabbing you in the back and leaving you broken hearted and betrayed. Who knew though that sometimes things just happen for a reason Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Status: Ongoing Warnings: Explicit language, sex and sexual themes, cheating resulting in pregnancy ummm I think that's it lol I'll put other specific warnings on each chapter. a/n: Oh my gosh so many of you have given so much love to the teaser and chapter one like wow! Thank you so so much! Sorry if this masterlist posts teases you but I wanted to get the other two out before I made this so they could have their time to shine. So yeah hope you'll enjoy this series hehe

Feel free to send drabble requests and asks as the story progresses

>Teaser >Part 1 >Part 2 >Part 3 >Part 4 >Part 5 >Part 6 >Part 7 >Part 8 >Part 9 >Part 10 >Part...

Extra Content: Not written in chronological order with the storyline (not all asks will be added to the list but you can find the rest under #just take it ask)

Alternate Chapters in Jungkook's pov: Prequel Part 3

Playlist

Alphabet (NSFW)

Bonus Drabbles/Longer Drabbles: Bonus 1 Bonus 2 Bonus 3 Bonus 4 Bonus 5 Bonus 6 Bonus 7 Bonus 8 Bonus 9

Asks: Ask 1 Ask 2 Ask 3 Ask 4 Ask 5 Ask 6 Ask 7

Drabbles: Drabble 1 Drabble 2 Drabble 3 Drabble 4 Drabble 5

Character Asks: JK 1 JK 2 JK 3 JK 4 JK 5 JK 6 JK 7 OC 1 OC 2 Jina 1 Jina 2 / Jared 1 Jina 3 / Jared 3 Jared 2

[nyerus]

A Masterpost for the Revised Version of TGCF

Due to the amount and frequency of misinformation about the revised version of TGCF, I wanted to make a post to serve as a resource for those who are confused about it, while also helping to debunk some of the sensationalist rumors floating around.

This post will be edited to include new things as needed.

⚠️Spoiler Warning: if you have not finished reading the original novel, or want to experience the new scenes from the revised naturally/fresh, please proceed with caution! I've intentionally kept things as vague as possible, but some spoilers are unavoidable!⚠️

✨ PART ONE: Frequently Asked Questions ✨

🔹What is the "revised" version of TGCF?

MXTX had been working on a revised version of TGCF since completing the original, as mentioned this in her postscript/afterword, and in an online interview (Q.27) done years ago just as she competed TGCF. That's all that was known for several years.

In early 2023, TGCF was finally released in print format in mainland China — and this was revealed to be the revised version! Due to regulations, this was a censored edition. However, in early 2024, the uncensored edition was uploaded to JJWXC (the site where all of MXTX's webnovels were originally published)! It's currently fully available to read in Simplified Chinese.

If you want a more in-depth explanation about the revised, please see my post about that here.

🔹What does the revised change compared to the original?

Several scenes have been added, some removed, others expanded upon. Overall, MXTX reportedly wrote 100k characters (words) of new content. While the overarching plot of each arc and the novel as a whole remains the same, it's a more cohesive and polished story. Pacing in each part of the story has been adjusted to flow better, especially in arcs notorious for feeling slow or disjointed.

Some segments have had fairly significant changes — namely the Bloody Banquet/Fang Xin Guoshi arc. (Though it still plays out much the same way.) Most others have smaller changes.

A new extra was also added, called "the Ghost King Dressed Down," which has been translated by Scarabsi on twitter.

🔹How does the revised version effect characters?

Apart from certain minor characters — such as the child Lang Ying who was removed entirely — there haven't been many drastic changes. The biggest thing was side characters like Lang Qianqiu and Ling Wen being given notably more backstory to further flesh them out. Their characterization itself hasn't changed, however.

🔹Which version is canon, then?

Whichever you want, and you can mix-and-match! MXTX has given fans her blessings and encouragement!

🔹How do I read the revised version in English?

Currently, there are no official or unofficial English translations of the whole revised version. Nor are there any plans to do so for the near future.

However, there are English fan translations of a few notable chapters, which you can read here. There's also instructions on that site on how to read the rest of the updated webnovel in English, using a browser extension.

Additionally, the audio drama is adapting the uncensored revised version, and has been doing an amazing job! Check out how to listen to that with English subs here.

✨PART TWO: Debunking Rumors & Clearing up Misinformation✨

Note that all chapter numbers given will be referencing the webnovel's. The old chapters are also available towards the bottom of the page as "serialized versions."

(Translated screenshots provided are janky because it's just basic google MTL!)

🔸"Mentions of Mu Qing's mother was removed from the revised!"

Not at all! Both his parents are still mentioned, along with how Mu Qing is the primary breadwinner due to his mom's failing eyesight. (Ch. 57)

🔸"The earring scene isn't there anymore!"

The earring scene is still very much there! Not actually sure why this is a rumor at all, when the whole earring thing spans several chapters. Here's the conclusion of it (Ch. 59):

🔸"Characters have been butchered in general, with Mu Qing especially getting scenes cut!"

No character (who didn't straight-up get deleted) has been butchered. Nor has any character been singled out for having their scenes deleted/changed, because that's happened to every character — yes, including Xie Lian and Hua Cheng! — and they also have new scenes added!

E.g. the scene where Mu Qing picks the cherries is removed, because that whole section was changed. (However, it's still mentioned that others are prejudiced against him due to his background, and so on.) Meanwhile, there's a brand-new scene that shows Mu Qing's aptitude in treating wounds, as well as he and Feng Xin having new hijinks as "junior officials" with Xie Lian, and more.

Despite the rumors, characters haven't been flattened to make them more one-dimensional compared to Hualian. Perhaps the idea of certain scenes being cut sounds scary for characterization, but a lot of the original has been retained one way or another. In many cases, MXTX just condensed things, or moved them around. The revised is meant to be looked at as a whole, after all.

🔸"Mu Qing now leaves for no reason in Book/Arc 4, instead of for his mother!"

Mu Qing clearly states in the revised that he wants to leave in order to find a way to improve their situation, since they anyways cannot agree amongst themselves. Just like in the original, he was frustrated and felt there was no point in continuing along the same path. (Ch 152)

And yes, he does not bring up his mother in the revised scene. For context: there is a three year gap between the end of Book/Arc 2 and the start of 4. Which means in the original, Mu Qing didn't mention his mother for those three years. Given the events leading to his departure, and what follows, this causes several inconsistencies.

That is a whole topic unto itself, however. But it's not surprising the revised did it a bit differently.

🔸"Feng Xin isn't as funny anymore!"

Feng Xin is actually one of the least changed characters! This rumor likely stems from the scene where Xie Lian reveals his password, to Feng Xin, who no longer rolls on the floor while laughing. Or maybe it's a miscommunication based on the printed revised, which censored some of his (and Qi Rong's) cursing. But that was only for the printed!

🔸"Ling Wen's character isn't as interesting because of the changes!"

People will really say anything on the internet. She's been given more depth and complexity, if anything. There's new scenes that expand on her background and early days in heaven, and her relationship with Bai Jing has been given a lot of extra attention. Her motivations and actions remain the same, but if the subtext was missed in the original, it could have led to some readers thinking of Ling Wen as certain way. Like a ruthless girlboss.

The revised reiterating that this isn't the case doesn't change or detract from her, as that was one of the points of her story to begin with. Plus, the revised arc gives Bai Jing much-needed characterization.

🔸"Ling Wen's ascension is now due to Jing Wen/not on her own merit/etc!"

Frankly, this rumor might be due to people not properly understanding how ascension works in TGCF, and thinking the revised is adding something that they forgot was already in the original. The revised didn't change anything about the manner in which Ling Wen ascended.

You can actually check out the revised Brocade Immortal arc here for yourself, as it's been fan translated!

🔸"The dynamic between Hualian is different in the revised!"

Their dynamic is exactly the same as before, only reinforced if anything. If the new additions are enough to destroy someone’s image of Hualian or turn it on its head, that’s definitely not a fault with either novel version!

🔸"The scene where Hua Cheng is disguised as Lang Ying and accidentally catches Xie Lian bathing is removed!"

Unfortunately, yes, the bathing scene is gone. However, Hua Cheng in disguise is still there — he's a village kid instead.

🔸"MXTX made changes to side characters/ships because she felt threatened by their popularity compared to her main couple!"

This one just doesn't really make sense, because several side characters were given *more* content — including their relationships.

Lang Qianqiu finally feels like an actual character. Quan Yizhen and Yin Yu have new stuff about them. Shi Wudu has some clever little cameos. Pei Ming’s feelings about Yushi Huang are brought up. Pei Xiu’s backstory is even more heartbreaking. Qi Rong has new scenes that make him feel genuinely menacing. Xiao Ying’s been completely revamped. These are just to name a few, and excluding things already talked about above.

It seems unlikely that MXTX would go through the trouble of adding to her side characters if she didn’t care about them, felt they weren’t important, or thought they were getting undeserved attention. Besides, popular characters like Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan had no cuts to their arc!

Looking at the actual metrics… MXTX has no need to feel threatened by her side ships vs her main ships.

[jcollinswrites]

New update!

The entirety of Weeping Gods Chapter 4 is live now 🥳

Again, like every other times, this is not the final version of the chapter (or the game). There will likely be many edits and fixes later because the entire game is under development.

All saves are going to break because there are many new variables added.

Also! 😲 Weeping Gods is now hitting 500 000 words! I am truly, completely astonished. I have never written this much for one project before. Ever. It's a giant achievement. Half a million words is an enormous amount.

What's new in this update:

The entire Chapter 4 is added to the game. It's about 157 000 words. I also recalculated the average playthrough of the game, and now it hits around 80 000 words

Your group steps on the journey to Memphis to recover the missing artifacts

You get to reevaluate the fallout with Narmer

You will meet 2 new characters and get an extra weapon from one of them

You can see a random encounter scene on the road. Currently, there are only 2 variations, but I'm going to add more later

Spend a day in the new royal capital with your favorite companion

Visit the market and buy STUFF

Visit the Giza Necropolis and have an adventure inside the Great Pyramid of Giza

And after everything is said and done... learn one of the biggest secrets that your group has been keeping from you

I hope you will enjoy it! ❤️

LINK

JC

[ace1diots]

Also I finally figured out why “Raise Up Your Bat” gets to me so much, and the answer is the dichotomy of what Ralsei sings vs the actual lyrics.

The lyrics he censors aren’t even inappropriate. They’re not really that at all. They’re kind of middle schooler levels of edgy but i just. I dunno. I think its interesting that he still refused to sing them despite that. Also, something about Ralsei saying the word “kite” and the original word being “night” and the two blurring together for a moment to almost read as “knight” when the lyrics are overlayed.

its like theres a double meaning layered over a double meaning layered over something trying to change the meaning thats inadvertently adding to it. like. what if both sets of lyrics are gonna be relevant somehow. blinks and loses my mind

(more rambles under the cut)

For posterities sake heres a link to the lyrics that contains both the original lines and what Ralsei sings

some of Ralsei’s lyrics are probably just there for nonsense reasons (like. the line about Mites.) but some of this with their additonal layer-over feels. idunno how to put this. almost like a prediction.? im thinking mostly about the festival here.

looking specifically at verse one and ignoring the mites line. the “sun shining brightly” line layered over the “blood gushing bright” line really gets to me for some reason. “Lets get your friends and fly a kite” sounds very festival type activity. i didnt know what to do with the “fur is looking white / future lost its rights” line at first but. toriel, asgore, asriel, even ralsei himself? could be about or related to any them. “raise up your hat for a funny sight/raise up your bat for a burning fight” just fit together perfectly- laying that line on top of the lyric feels like it adds additional context to the original line that was there.

the chorus is interesting because ralsei doesnt change Any of the lyrics. And the additonal added thing of this is the Freedom motif/Don’t Forget motif. it uses parts of Don’t Forget’s lyrics and ideas as well as just referencing it musically. It’s asking you to follow someone (the singer of the song, arguably most likely Dess) into the dark, that they’re with you, and that your heart will guide you through the waves (once again associating dark worlds/darkness with water.)

now lets look at verse 2. The only utdr related ducks i can think of are the small bird that carries you over a large gap and washuwas duck so this might not be relevant or we don’t know what its about yet. “And mom kiss goodnight” my first thought there was well, the end of the undertale pacifist route if you choose to stay with toriel- so this line is probably about toriel loving kris as her own child (that sung over the “blood gushing bright” line reads in very “the player has killed toriel in the past” type of way to me, but i dont know if thats intentional?) “When your pancake’s slowly frying” is about the opening of chapter 4 of deltarune (pared with the “hope slowly dying” line to reflect the new fears of our cast of characters, particularly susie here i think given that she gives a whole speech at the end of chapter 3 about how she hasnt had hope for a while and having friends has finally given her some). “and your future’s really bright/and your future’s lost it rights” is just very Yeah- not much to say about this one but it still feels Relevant to it all. “Bring extra smores to the campsite/raise up your bat and face the fright” this. this line in particular feels about how Dess was lost in the first place- all of them camping out in the woods behind the graveyard until something Happens and Dess goes to protect them, only to be dragged into darkness/the bunker somehow? and the last line of “i bet my friends still want a bite/lets knock em dead into the night!” feels like a proper last hurrah for the song, as well as a reminder that Dess misses everyone just as much as she is missed, and that theres still things that have to be/should be fought for no matter how much/who is lost in the process

[zerosconsort]

Zero's Fic Binding - Sixpence In His Shoe

Sixpence In His Shoe by scifigrl47 [@scifigrl47]

Fandom: Marvel (Comics) Ship: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Start Date: 02/05/24 End Date: 01/21/25 Pages: 253

I am, honestly, probably the most proud of this cover. This might be the most detailed, delicate, intricate thing I’ve made - ever. I know I haven’t been doing this long, but this? This is really good.

The amount of layers in this bitch is astounding. Sometimes I yearn for the embrace of a better graphic software then Canva. We’ll get there. Anyway.

There is an Owlcrate special edition of The Longest Autumn that inspired the shit out of me for this, along with the version of The Fine Print that i saw in Target that was this beautiful lined foil design. The idea of a mirrored, hyper intricate lace-like cover that wove all the individual parts of the story together drove me crazy. 

The vinyl is foil - which, if you are new to HTV and want to use it to make book covers, LISTEN: This foil sucks. All foil HTV sucks. It’s going to suck to cut. It’s going to REALLY suck to iron on. It will be worth it, but it’s going to try and drag your soul out of your body by your fingernails the entire time you’re using it.

Alright, lets talk about the process and the typeset. 

The entire theme of this fic is marriage - in both that the characters got married, are having a wedding, and are desperately in love with each other despite not actually telling each other that before said marriage and wedding. I initially was going to do a blue and white theme, more along the lines of really flowery modern wedding invitations - but then I read the fic again.

I forgot about the first chapter. Reading again, I paid more attention to what everyone around them was doing to celebrate marriage being legal. The process of it. The traditional feel of how it was done. And that’s the hook that I followed instead. 

Sixpence doesn't have chapter names - so instead I pulled some of the wedding traditions that I researched and used those as my chapter foundations.

Each chapter gets one, where I use the motif as the header and the scene breaks in the chapter. I also added the iconography to the chapter numbers in the header.

I made three of these in total. I fought this book every step of the way - I really needed to be a more experienced version of me to make this book the way I wanted to, but honestly? I literary did the best I could, and even I can tell that I did it.

The first copy of this book went to Sci - Its got a little extra character from being the first version, but out of the three sisters I made of this print run, she turned out the best looking. I'm keeping the most fucked up version (which is otherwise perfect, really, save for the fact that I put the FUCKING SPINE ON BACKWARDS), while the littlest sister is going to go to one of my best friends for a VERY belated gift.

This was a surprised gift for Sci - who had reached out to me almost 4 months ago and asked if they could maybe, possibly, have a copy of Maybe Tomorrow. I knew immediately that I wanted to make this for her too; I had the typeset in my Want To Make file since FEBRUARY OF 2024. So I dusted it off, dumped my other project to the side, and hyper focused on this book for about a month and a half. 

Sci - I admire the fuck out of you. You are a gift and a treasure, and I hope you are ok with me getting my little racoon hands on your fics. Thank you for being open to my interpretation of your work. It’s a privilege and an honor to bind them.

If by some miracle, you have not had the pleasure of reading Sixpence In His Shoe - or any of Sci’s work, #1 what the fuck, #2 please start here.

[mochinomnoms]

BONDED PAIR! DO NOT SEPARATE (TWST OCs)

Twisted from The Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea

"A pair of mermen from the Coral Sea with seemingly close ties to the current heads of Octavinelle. One standoffish, one flirtatious, both are attached to each other's hips despite the conflicting personalities."

Aspen Albamar

“An aloof but haughty young man from the Coral Sea. He is unapproachable to most on campus, though he can be seen getting angry and excitable when provoked. He is very private and keeps to himself. Tony is referred to as his ‘keeper’.”

Tony Lombardi

“An unconventional man with a detached sense of humor but a soft heart. He is laid-back and easy going, making him an excellent mediator. He is surprisingly detached from others despite being flirty. Is often referred to as Aspen’s ‘keeper’.”

template by: @unfinished-projects-galore / art by: @the-trinket-witch

YAAAY MY TWO BOYS ARE HERE!!! Once again, a big thanks to Trinket for the art and working with me on bringing my two to life! They added an extra piece to show their height difference, which I loved! Love me some height differences lol. I was a bit busy this week so wasn't able to get these done and out but I'm so happy that I finally could! I hope yall like the visuals for Aspen and Tony, as they will be fairly important side characters in future PTM chapters :)

[swordsandholly]

Across the Way

Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike

Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.

More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.

You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.

They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.

Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.

You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.

J >> Bonnie lass!

J >> So glad u texted!!

>> Sorry it took so long lol

Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.

J >> Nah Nah

J >> No worries

J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow

J >> Just to chat

J >> need an excuse to get out of the house

“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.

>> Yeah, come by anytime.

>> totally

>> yea sounds cool

>> rad, man

A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.

>> If you like. You’re always welcome.

Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,

>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf

>> If you want to test for me :)

Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.

~~~

You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.

“Hey, bon.” He grins.

“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”

“Aye.”

You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”

Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.

Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”

“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”

There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.

“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”

“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.

You tilt your head. “Oh?”

He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”

Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“

“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.

“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?

“Okay.”

You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.

Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.

The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.

As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-

The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?

Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.

“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.

You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”

Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.

Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”

“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”

“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”

They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”

You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”

“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.

You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”

His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”

“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.

“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”

“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”

“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.

Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.

You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”

“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.

“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”

“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.

“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”

Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”

Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.

“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”

“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.

You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.

Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.

Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!

“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.

You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “

Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”

You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.

You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.

The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.

~~~

The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.

You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.

Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.

Heat.

It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.

It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.

“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”

“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”

“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”

You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.

You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.

You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.

Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.

“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.

“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.

Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.

“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.

“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”

Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.

“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…

Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”

He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”

“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.

You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.

“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.

Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.

Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”

You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.

Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)

You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.

Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!

Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.

“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.

It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.

You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.

“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.

“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.

You nod slowly. “Overheated…”

“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.

“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.

You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-

“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.

You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”

You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”

“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.

You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”

Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.

“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.

“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”

Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”

You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.

If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.

It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.

Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.

“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.

Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.

Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”

You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.

“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”

He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.

“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”

You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.

Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”

“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.

“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”

You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.

Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”

“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.

You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”

It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.

“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”

“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”

“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”

Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.

Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”

A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.

Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic

[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.