#wattpad help

[chimivx]

https://www.tumblr.com/chimivx/758279223266918400/ao3-is-better-than-wattpad-by-miles-there?source=share

Gosh the constant ads! WHY??? They are literally forcing people to go premium. Like I'm sorry I'm dirt poor, and even if I wasn't I'd still not waste my money of such an app lmao

(Anon, I don't know if you'll see this, but if I think I'll like a story in Wattpad, I quickly scroll about 2/3 chapters down, and then I save the story to My Library, after that I go to My Library and save it for "offline" reading. That way I can read the story while my Wi-Fi is turned off and guess what, there are NO ADS! I always do this, hope it helps you❤)

I used to read on Wattpad and Quotev at the same time back in about 2014/2015 when I was still a teenager. Quotev used to be just as popular as Wattpad then, I don't know what happened to that app. The celebrity-fan/celebrity-celebrity fics there were the best. One Direction fics were so popular.

Despite me shit-talking Wattpad, I really still love it. I guess my fondness from it comes reading a lot of stories from it that made my lonely childhood just a little bit bearable.

Could you and your followers please recommend me some Wattpad stories (Jikook, other ships or any original story, I don't mind at all) that you think I'll really like? Thank you.

Exactly, like Wattpad, girl, I am not paying for premium, like the app is not even that spectacular to pay for it when I can get everything on there and MORE either on tumblr or ao3 !!

Okay the offline tip is GENIUS, thank you for that!

I'll totes check out Quotev! Even if its just to familiarize myself with it...

We can shit talk Wattpad all we want, BUT we still gonna use it, because same LOL!

IF ANY OF MY FOLLOWERS HAVE ANY WATTPAD RECS PLEASE LET ME KNOW! <3

[blue-eyed-author]

Some of my writer’s block cures:

Handwrite. (If you already are, write in a different coloured pen.)

Write outside or at a different location.

Read.

Look up some writing prompts.

Take a break. Do something different. Comeback to it later.

Write something else. (A different WIP, a poem, a quick short story, etc.)

Find inspiring writing music playlists on YouTube. (Themed music, POV playlists, ambient music, etc.)

Do some character or story prompts/questions to get a better idea of who or what you’re writing.

Word sprints. Set a timer and write as much as you can. Not a lot of time to overthink things.

Set your own goals and deadlines.

Write another scene from your WIP. (You don’t have to write in order.) Write a scene you want to write, or the ending. (You can change it or scrap it if it doesn’t fit into your story later.)

Write a scene for your WIP that you will never post/add to your story. A prologue, a different P.O.V., how your characters would react in a situation that’s not in your story, a flashback, etc.

Write down a bunch of ideas. Things that could happen, thing that will never happen, good things, bad things.

Change the weather (in the story of course.)

Feel free to add your own.

[tahbhie]

Creating Emotionally Devastating Scenes.

Crafting a scene that earns the total sympathy of your readers can be challenging, but it's not impossible. Most emotionally devastating scenes fail at two things, but when these are done right, the results can be powerful.

⚪ The Important Concepts for Writing an Emotionally Devastating Scene

1. The Build-Up,

2. Breaking the Dam.

Before I explain these concepts, let me share a case study.

⚫ Case Study

I wrote a story about a young orphan named Jackie and her younger brother. Their village was burned down, leaving them as the only survivors.

For the next few chapters, readers followed their painful journey and their struggle to survive. The younger brother had a heart problem, and Jackie vowed to become a cardiologist to save him.

She was very ambitious about it, but at the time, it was very ironic. Later in the story, when they encountered a tragic living condition with a family, the brother died while telling his sister how much he missed their parents.

When her brother was fighting for his life, she was sent out of the room, only to be let in again to see his cold, lifeless body.

⚪ Explanation of Concepts

1. The Build-Up

The build-up is extremely important when you aim to convey strong emotions. Here's a secret: if you plan for a scene with strong emotions, start leaving breadcrumbs from the very beginning of the story.

Take the previous case study. I carefully built up their journey so people could easily relate and feel the pain of the older sister during her brother's sudden death.

You need to give the situation enough reason to feel utterly hopeless and devastating. Gradually cultivate the tension until it's ready to let loose.

⚫ Understanding the Use of Breadcrumbs.

Breadcrumbs in stories ensure you utilize the time you have to build up certain emotions around your characters.

At the beginning of my story, Jackie’s fate was already pitiable, but she survived every hurdle. This gave the readers enough to feel for her while still leaning away from the outcome. When I built enough, I introduced her brother's sudden death.

Hence, leave your breadcrumbs while leaning away from the outcome.

⚪ How to Properly Leave Breadcrumbs

When building up your story, consider these elements:

☞⁠ Character Relatability: The characters need to be realistic to draw readers into the story. This helps readers invest themselves in your story.

☞⁠ Realistic Emotional Pain: Just as characters need to be relatable, their emotions need to be realistic and not appear forced.

☞⁠ Create a Strong Emotional Attachment: Give them something they care about or that has the power to ruin their lives in any way. It could be something that makes them happy or something their happiness relies on. When it's time, snatch it away without remorse.

☞⁠ Have a Backstage Struggle: This struggle keeps readers occupied, so they won't see the outcome coming. For example, Jackie’s constant struggle to find food and shelter keeps readers engaged while the impending tragedy looms in the background.

☞⁠ Attach Believable Elements: For a realistic character, emotion, and struggle, attach believable elements. It could be death, ailments, sickness, disorder, disappointment, failure, etc.

Now that we've covered the build-up, let's move on to the next crucial part.

2. Breaking the Dam

This is when you make your readers feel the strong emotions alongside your characters. All the tension you’ve been building up is released, making all emotions come into play.

☞⁠ Break Your Strong Attachment: Cut off your strong attachment from your character when they least expect it or at a point when they couldn't use more struggles (i.e when they are helpless).

This will not only evoke readers’ emotions but also pique their curiosity as they wonder how the character will survive the situation.

☞⁠ Description of Sensory Details to Invoke Emotions: The advice of "show, don't tell" will be really helpful here. It's crucial to ensure that the final execution matches the build-up.

A well-crafted build-up can fall flat if the emotional release isn't handled effectively. To avoid this, blend the climax seamlessly into the narrative, making it feel natural and impactful.

Reblog to save for reference! 💜

[2soulscollide]

free resources to write a novel in 2024

hello hello! it's me, rach!

as the new year approaches, many of us set goals and resolutions - myself included. one of my goals for 2024 is to write a novel (I've been procrastinating on this for quite a long time now). i assume that some of you might have the same goal, that's why I'm writing this post today.

over 2023 i've been releasing some freebies for authors just like me, so I thought I could compile my favorites in this post. hope you find this useful :)

1) the writer's workbook

this workbook has over 60 exercises to help you develop characters, scenarios, etc. if you're ever stuck, I'm pretty sure this workbook will be your best friend.

2) author's corner (notion template)

this is the most downloaded freebie in my shop! it is a notion dashboard with everything you need to organize your writing and has some templates included (like scrivener)!!

3) another notion template

this one has two themes you can choose from: cottage-core and dark academia. they're very similar to the previous template, but this one is more recent and I added some new features. feel free to explore both and pick the one you like the most.

4) the author's journal

this is a cute printable with 20 pages that will help you stay on track and manage your social media accounts as a writer who shares their work online. you can also register what you're currently writing and your personal research and resources.

5) plan your book printable

this is a 6-page printable for you to fill out and plan your book easily and effectively.

6) excel sheet to organize tasks & word-count

this is a simple excel sheet, but it is very effective for keeping track of your tasks & word-count of your novels. also, it is 100% customizable to your liking!

that's all for now! feel free to explore my gumroad shop where I have plenty of freebies to grab! also, don't forget to subscribe so that you never miss any opportunity to get a goodie for free :)

hope this post was useful!

have a nice day,

rach

[rockspider556]

Icl my favourite trope at the moment is two super buff boyfriends, except one of them is an absolute BEHEMOTH of a man, and when they stand next to each other it makes the other look downright twinky

like both have gym memberships, but one guy is so freakishly massive he could bench press a car, and the other—who's still built like a Greek statue—looks like a malnourished twig in comparison.

Like, this "tiny" guy is objectively huge, but standing next to his boyfriend, he might as well be a featherweight.

true artistry.

[coffeetank]

Ways to Make a Character Apologise

"I'm sorry."

"I just...want to say I'm sorry."

*brings gift* "This is to make up for what I did."

"You're right, it was my fault."

"I have some reparations to make."

"I would like to make it up to you, if you give me a chance."

"I just need one chance. To prove that I truly regret doing what I did."

"Saying sorry does not make me any less smaller. It's just the right thing to do."

"Do you think you could forgive me?"

"You deserve this apology, so take it grandly."

"I will do anything to prove how sorry I am."

*goes to lengths to apologise* "I'm still not done apologising."

"Come with me, please."

"Let me do the right thing."

"You can choose not to accept it. But that doesn't mean I won't do it."

- ashlee

[winternightswren]

From Under The Desk

JaycexFem!Reader

Modern College AU

You have a paper due at midnight. A very important one. You absolutely CANNOT afford to be distracted.

Jayce distracts you.

Warnings: 18+ (this is basically just smut without plot tbh.) Reader is AFAB. Oral sex, cunnilingus, descriptions of genitalia. Small age gap? Like, only a year or two. Does that count? Idk let me know if i missed something <3

You scrubbed a hand across your face, exhaustion tugging at your eyes. It wasn't actually that late- it was only about seven pm. But, you'd stayed up all of last night writing this damned paper, only to go and spend a full day in class afterwards. And now here you were, hunched over your desk like a vulture pecking at your keyboard.

Getting the words down was the easy part. It was making them make sense that made your brain hurt. The amount of words you'd back-spaced over was probably comparable to the ones you'd actually kept.

You took a swig of your energy drink, wincing as the carbonation hit the back of your throat. You don't know why you bothered honestly; it wasn't doing anything for you at this point.

It was then that you heard the lock on the front door click, and the telltale shuffling sounds of someone entering your tiny apartment.

"I'm home!"

You heard Jayce's muffled voice through your bedroom door, but you made no effort to tear your attention away from your computer screen.

"Hon?" You heard him call again, "You home?"

More shuffling. Then, he knocked softly on the door before opening it. "Hon?" He repeated.

"Hey," you said automatically, fingers still flying across your keyboard.

"Hey, you." You could hear the smile in his voice, and it made your stomach flutter a little. "I picked up some takeout for dinner- I even got those little crab rangoons you love."

In your head, you meant to say something like, 'Wow! Thank you, my love. Im so excited to eat my favorite food with you!' But you didn't, leaving only an awkward pause in the back and forth you could barely call a conversation. You scrolled back to the top of your paper to re-read it, skimming for mistakes. Ah- there's a typo here. It should be "perceived", not-

"Hey, are you okay? Did you hear me?"

"What?" You bristled a little bit, annoyed to have been interrupted. You finally turned around to acknowledge him, trying to hide your chagrin. "Oh...sorry. Um, thank you. That was thoughtful."

It had taken a moment to force your eyes to focus on him, after staring at a bright screen for so long. When they did, you found he looked significantly more chipper than you felt. That made sense, you supposed. He had been freed from the confines of student life already, no longer bogged down by trivial things like homework and exams. Lucky bastard.

His eyes grazed across your face, then the rest of your body- and stopped when he found something interesting.

"You're wearing my hoodie,". He said. Irritation clawed at your stomach, and you swallowed the 'so what?' rising in your throat. You really just wanted to get back to work.

"It's comfy," you said instead, shrugging. "Sorry. I hoped you wouldn't mind. Do you want it back?" He shook his head, starting towards you.

"No, it looks good on you. Keep it on." He leaned down to peck you on the cheek, and you smiled tiredly at him. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day at work, and his chiseled cheekbones were smeared with grease. His cologne was mixed with the smell of coal and something vaguely chemical. Truthfully, what you really wanted was to yank off the hoodie, and his clothes too, and pull him into the shower with you- but there was no time for that now. You swiveled your chair around again, going back to your work.

"Im sorry," you said, "This paper is due in a couple of hours and I need to get it done. You should go ahead and eat if you're hungry. You don't have to wait. And please take a shower."

"What?" He teased, "You don't like the smell of hydraulic fluid?" He wrapped his arms around you and dropped his chin on top of your head. You found it difficult to keep yourself upright under his immense weight.

"No, I don't," you huffed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to focus on this. But once I'm done, I'm yours for the rest of the night, okay?"

The weight was lifted as he moved away from you, chuckling. "Alright, Alright. I'll leave you to it. God, it's kinda hot when you're mean to me. Maybe you should do that more often."

You swatted his arm, staring incredulously, and he ducked away as he laughed again. "I'm not being mean to you. I thought I was being pretty polite all things considered."

"You are mean to me," he whined. "You wont even let me give you my love and attentioonnn." He gave you fake puppy dog eyes, and you snatched a pencil off your desk, holding it up like you were going to chuck it at him.

"Get out," you warned. He held up his hands in surrender and backed out the door, eyes full of mirth.

"I bet you'd be nicer to me if you ate something."

You threw the pencil as hard as you could, but he shut the door before it reached him, and it bounced off the wood instead. You heard him cackling on the other side, before you heard his heavy footsteps move away.

You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. It was greasy, and in need of a good combing-through. You hadn't really had time for a shower yourself; but it could wait a little longer. You went back to your pecking.

Too soon, you heard the bedroom door open again. "Back already?" You asked mechanically.

"Already?" He repeated. "It's been like an hour." You glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of your screen. He was right. You'd been so focused that you didn't realize how long it had been.

"Whoops." You still didn't cease your typing.

You felt his weight upon you the same as before, forcing a wheeze from your lungs. "Why are you so heavy?" You huffed.

He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations against your back. The two of you stayed there like that for a moment, and you rubbed your eyes again. His warmth was comforting, and dangerously cozy. You were going to fall asleep at this rate. You shrugged, trying to get him to move off of you- but he didn't budge. Instead, he pressed his face into your neck, and his hair tickled your cheek. It was still damp, and you could smell his shampoo- like mint, and something darker, more earthy. You tilted your head to kiss the top of his own, breathing in the scent; but never taking your eyes away from your computer.

"Your food's getting cold, love." His breath tickled your skin, giving you butterflies again. "You should come eat something. You'll feel better."

"Can't," you muttered. Even if you wanted to, the caffeine you'd been chugging all day dampened your appetite, despite your empty stomach. He was probably right, but if you stopped now, you might not be able to start again. You had to capitalize on your focus; you couldn't afford to lose it.

Jayce brushed his lips against your jaw, pressing little kisses into the bone, and down your neck. He trailed a hand down your arm, the one opposite to him, and slipped it across your thigh, into the space between your legs-

'What do you think you're doing?" He stood up straight, taking his hand back. You glared at him, half annoyed, and half aroused. It was only now that you realized he wasn't wearing a shirt- just a pair of sweatpants that accentuated his girth in just the right way. You could see every muscle he worked so hard to build on full display, and your breath hitched. His tanned skin was just as damp as his hair, still shining with water. You wondered if he'd even bothered to dry off when he got out of the shower.

"I'm sorry. I can stop if you really want me to," he said gently. He looked down at you with something on his face you couldn't quite read. He wasn't frowning, nor smiling. His eyebrows were quirked upward just slightly, eyes half lidded. His expression was somewhere between lust and fatigue, you decided. Maybe he'd had a long day, too.

You blinked, trying to keep your eyes open. Maybe you didn't want him to stop- but you had to get this done if you had any hope of graduating next semester. You couldn't afford to fail this class. You looked away from him, feeling torn. In the corner of your eye, you watched him kneel beside you, and felt the weight of his head in your lap. He slid his hands around your waist, one of them between you and the back of your chair, and the other across your lap.

"You don't have to stop," you said quietly. "But I can't, either. This is important."

"Is that what you want though? For me to keep going, I mean?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "I do. I just need you to understand that I'm not ignoring you to be mean; I don't want to hurt your feelings because I'm not being an active participant."

He lifted his head, shifting himself between your legs. He had to duck and curl himself up awkwardly to fit himself underneath your desk- it was kind of cute, actually, watching him trying to fit his giant shoulders and long legs into such a tight space.

"I don't think that at all," he said when he was finally comfortable. "I know this it's important to you." He slid his hands up your thighs, letting one of his thumbs land on the spot where he knew your clit to be. He stroked it gently through the fabric of your pants, and you bit your lip to stop the gasp trapped in your throat. His other hand grasped your hip, massaging the soft malleable flesh of your curves with his thumb. He rested his cheek on your knee, looking up at you lovingly.

"You just seem so stressed," he said. "I wanna help you relax." He punctuated his words by swiveling his hand around, sliding his fingers under the curve of your pelvis. Well, 'relaxed' isn't the word you would use to describe yourself right now. A coil had wound itself inside your stomach, and your legs were tense with anticipation. In his hands, you were putty. You couldn't think straight anymore. You tried to focus, tried to keep your eyes on the prize. You were almost done here. Just a couple more paragraphs to go, and then you could-

"Oh-" you gasped involuntarily, something girlish and high pitched. Your face burned with embarrassment- you'd never made a noise like that before. But you couldn't help it- not with the way he was sliding his fingers into you now. You hadn't even realized he had managed to tug your pants down enough to expose you to him.

His other hand, previously on your hip, had slid up your sweater. It was on the small of your back now, pressing you forward. He drew his fingers out of you, slowly, and you bucked your hip forwards with a groan. He was moving so, so slowly. He was being so gentle and sweet, you thought your teeth were going to rot and fall out of your skull. He leaned forward, kissing your stomach, moving down to the side- to your hip, in the crease of your skin where your pelvis met your thigh. You shivered; his lips brushed you so lightly it tickled a bit. Your fingertips buzzed with electricity as you tried to keep typing. But then you felt his tongue sliding between your folds and you couldn't do it anymore.

You let your eyes flutter shut, letting him finally overtake your thoughts completely. You buried your face in your hands, trying to control your ragged breathing as he moved his tongue up, and down, slowly, gently. He pushed his tongue inside of you, lapping at you like he hadn't had a drop to drink in days. You whined, sliding a hand under the desk to grab his hair, to bring him closer to you. You could hear him panting, feel his breath against your pubic mound. His movements grew more desperate at your touch, ever eager to please.

You laid your other arm on the table, resting your head on it like a pillow. You really couldn't stop the sounds escaping from you now. Every gasp, moan, and whimper from you only seemed to further spur him, urging him to move faster. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue, reaching as far inside of you as he could manage, and moving back up to lick tiny circles around your clit.

You moved your hips with his rhythm, desperate for more friction as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge. "Jayce," you whispered shakily, "I-I'm really- mmmfh- close-"

He didn't let up even a little bit, even when you leaned back, pushing his head against you so hard you were worried he'd suffocate. You were almost blinded by pleasure, the coil winding itself tighter and tighter- until it finally snapped.

You cried out his name like a prayer, over and over again as you shook. You clamped your thighs around his ears, wrapping your legs together over his shoulders. You tugged on his hair like it was a lifeline, feeling every crashing tidal wave of your orgasm in full force as your back arched away from your chair. You practically sobbed, your eyes watering. You couldn't help it. It was so good.

He finally stopped when he sensed you'd had enough, slumping in your chair like a rag doll as exhaustion racked your brain through the afterglow. He pulled back, his face shiny with spit and slick. You smiled at him, before letting your head flop back as you closed your eyes.

'That was hot," he whispered. You snorted, not opening your eyes. You felt his fingers brush your skin as he pulled your pants back up, and shivered slightly when the cold wet fabric of your underwear met your overly-sensitive groin. You pressed your toes against the floor to push your chair from under the table so he'd have room to get out.

"That didn't take very long, either" he teased. "You must have been pretty pent up." You heard shuffling as he stood, and you finally opened your eyes when you felt his lips brush against your forehead. You flicked his shoulder.

"You're just good at what you do."

He smiled, his eyes flickering across your face. You reached up to rub your thumb across his chin, trying to wipe off some of the remaining fluids. He grabbed your wrist and pressed a kiss into your palm before you could withdraw it, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come eat something, please," he whispered. You sighed and glanced at the clock again, considering it- it was almost 9:15. There was still time.

"Alright, alright," you resigned. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be right there."

Jayce made a face you couldn't discern, and let go of your hand. "Okay," he said, and stepped out of the room.

He came back ten minutes later to find you still at your computer. "I couldn't wait any longer," he said- making you jump.

"Augh, I'm sorry, Jayce," you said- and you meant it.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "I had a feeling this might happen. You get so sucked in sometimes. It's endearing, actually."

He set two styrofoam boxes next to you, and opened another for himself. "I thought I would just bring dinner in here. Maybe I could help you edit? Make things go a little faster so we can get you in the shower?" He smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was lodged into the corner of the room, with the desk beside it like an oversized nightstand. There'd be no room to move about, otherwise.

You cracked open the first box, choosing to ignore his quip, and your mouth watered at the sight of your favorite food inside. Ugh, even cold it smelled amazing. You shoveled it into your face with the flimsy plastic fork, newfound hunger making itself evident. You looked to Jayce, intending to thank him for the meal; but you found he was looking at you expectantly.

'What?" You asked through a mouthful of food.

"Did you want my help?"

Oh.

You swallowed.

"Sorry. Um, yes. That might be nice honestly. I could use a break."

He set his food aside, chuckling. "The first one wasn't enough?" He teased. You scowled, only pretending to be upset.

"Whatever man. Switch me places." You stood up to give him your chair, and he complied- though he had to pull the lever under the seat to lower it, to make room for his mile-long legs.

"Alright, let's see, here..."He squinted as he read your work, and you took the opportunity to admire him. God, he really was incredibly handsome. His long, calloused fingers looked enormous over your keyboard compared to your own. His bulky shoulders hunched forward, pulling the skin of his back taught over his muscles. You bit your lip, feeling your arousal coming back through your fatigue. He glanced at you, and you blushed when you caught him staring; as if you hadn't been together long enough by now that this wasn't embarrassing. But he still never failed to give you the warm-and-fuzzies so to speak. He smiled, laughing through his nose.

"What're you looking at?"

You twirled your hair with exaggeration. "Oh, yknow. Just this cute guy I have a crush on, or whatever," you flirted. He rolled his eyes, still grinning to himself.

"Eat your food, dork." He looked back to the screen, and you did what you were told.

It didn't take long. You wolfed down your dinner so fast you even surprised yourself. You stood to collect your trash, and kissed the top of Jayce's head before heading to the kitchen to dispose of it properly. When you came back, he was already standing up to stretch.

"It looks good to me," he said- with his arms over his head, his obliques were in full view and it made you just about weak in the knees. "I think it's ready to submit, if you're happy with it."

You thought about re-reading it one more time- just to be sure- but your brain was so foggy with exhaustion (and maybe some arousal). You trusted Jayce's judgement, too. He'd graduated summa cum laude last year, after all. You were sure he knew what he was talking about.

"Thank you, love. I really appreciate your help." You patted his chest with a weary smile, and sat down to submit it. When you were finally able to click your laptop shut, you were just about to collapse. You looked over to find Jayce already waiting for you in bed, and he opened his arms for you.

"C'mere, you," he crooned softly. You complied, shutting off the table lamp before you crawled across the blankets to meet him. He pulled them over the two of you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of mint and clean bedsheets. You suddenly felt self conscious, remembering you had forgotten to bathe.

You sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick actually-" but he yanked you back down before you could move, burying his nose in your hair.

"Nooooo," he mumbled. "Stay with me."

"Jaaaayce," you whined, "I smell terrible. Wouldn't you rather I got cleaned up before bed?"

He didn't move, keeping you pinned between his arms. "Mmm, girl stink."

"You- what?" You sputtered, laughing at the absurdity. You tried to move, but he was already snoring softly. You couldn't tell if he was faking it or not, but you gave in anyway. You tangled your legs with his, letting his warmth overtake you and carry you to sleep at last.

[writing-chats]

your playlist guide 101 (writers, readers, etc.)

note: credits go to (ofc) the original artists + compilers

emotional sad

last time together

waiting for the one who doesn't come

pov. heartbroken mermaid

slowly losing grip on reality

fight scenes

instrumental music for writing and fighting

you call it revenge, i call it returning a favour

all thrones come at a cost

comfort

a hogwarts comfort

you're studying with the dead poets society

and suddenly, we were strangers again

before sunrise

tension

realising we're living in a dystopian reality

you built an empire on the streets of birmingham in the 1920s

a little more dark academia

fine, make me your villain (darkling)

pleasingly dancing for your hot enemy in a private room

cool

it's 1998 and you're drifting through tokyo

among all the stars and infinite galaxies, how lucky am i to have met you

we're just used to this already (honkai star rail)

the playlist finds the cool kids

it's an old money summer at your house in europe

all my demons dance through the nighttime

office wave 1986

lost nostalgic

maybe in another life

what it feels like to be a memory

it's summer again, the days are blurring and the nights are sleepless

calm

lost in space

you exist for a reason (dreamcore)

a dreamlike peace

quiet autumn days

the calm before the storm

time periods

"it was not your fault but mine" greek mythology playlist

1920s

1940s

1950s

1970s (marauders)

1980s

1990s (supermodel)

[starry-bi-sky]

I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

[crsssie]

oops... i got married || TO SOME STRANGER!??!?!?

word count: 1.4k || Fic 5 of oops... i got married

summary: I'm gonna be fr with you. Your new malewife is a little sus

You get married as a joke.

Yes, there are limits to how much you can drink. Yes, there are limits to how insane you can get while drunk— but apparently getting married is not within that limit. You get married to some random guy— SERIOUSLY. SOME RANDOM DUDE. You wake up to a legally signed marriage document and them in your kitchen, and you blink at the confirmation email on your phone and then at your new lover at the door.

"You're going to be late for class."

"What the fuck?!" 

You pause at the sight of your new husband, some random man, white hair and red eyes, and you pause. Did you get transmigrated? Are you in an isekai fic? Is this your main character moment? Seriously, how the hell did you manage to bag some random ass man!???!!? WHAT. WHY IS HE HOT.

"Wait." You pause. "How do you know I have class?"

"The backpack." He points. "Now, hurry on up now."

That does NOT explain how the hell you met your husband. Yet, you don't have time, grabbing breakfast from his hand as he waves goodbye to you at the door. Great day to pay expensive ass rent but live right next to campus. You wonder if your husband lives someone. You feel kind of bad that he had to take you home after you got plastered yesterday. But. That does not excuse the fact that he looked suspicious as fuck while staring at you sleep. Also, how the hell did he agree to marrying you? WHY.

You huff as you walk back to class, pausing and blinking when a piece of the ceiling breaks off and slams into where you were sitting, somehow missing all of your belongings by a hair. You blink, stupefied, grabbing your stuff from under the ceiling as you evacuate the lecture with the rest of the students. Someone hates you... or something. You don't know. You're surprised you didn't just die while drunk. Sometimes pianos fall out of the air and try to bomb you. Also, you have a husband to go home to now! He'd be sad if you suddenly died... right?

Wait. What even is his name?

"Casper." Your husband rolls his eyes as you pout. "You forgot your own husband's name?"

"Uh huh." You blink. "Are you just going to be my househusband now?"

"I don't see why not. Anything interesting happen today?"

"Oh!" You grin. "A piece of the ceiling slammed into my seat, but luckily for me I was in the bathroom. My stomach problems saved me for once."

Your husband gives you a smile half between concern and amusement. (he would have to try harder next time— what. that was not him. who said that.) 

"I'm glad you're safe."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." He pauses. "Do you get acid reflux in the morning?"

"If I eat and sleep immediately after." You mumble. "Why?"

"Hotpot." He hums. "Spicy hotpot. Eat up."

Your eyes light up, brightening as he hands you a bowl of rice, watching as you dig in, humming happily as you watch him put his own bowl down.

"Is it good?"

"Mhm!" You beam. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"I live alone." He hums. "Someone has to do the housework around my place."

"How about currently?"

"I live a little... far away." He pauses. "It would be hard for me to see you every day if I don't live at your place. Besides, my job is in the area."

"Will you move here? Or..."

"No. My management provides housing for free." He smiles. "Oh, the food's going to get cold."

You pause. "Can I apply?"

"No. We don't take applications."

"WHAT." You groan. "Ugh. I knew it was too good to be true. You probably sold your soul for it or something."

Casper doesn't speak up, placing a slice of lotus root in your bowl. "Eat up."

You raise a brow but don't pry further. It's not your problem if your husband sold his soul. At least he's hot.

Maybe he's secretly trying to eat your soul... demons... that checks out honestly. You did have a bad stroke of luck when it came to unfortunate situations, and you had an even more comedic one when it came to avoiding them. Always nearby, never you. You wonder if that would curse your husband. Though, from the looks of it, your husband would probably steal someone's soul before that curse could even lay a hand on him.

"What are you looking at?"

"You're very hot." You grin.

You laugh when you notice your husband turn red.

The vast majority of your days pass relatively calmly, and you grow into a comfortable pattern with your husband... that is until your husband shows up with a black card and tells you that he can cover rent for the rest of your life— that raises some questions. What does your husband even do for work? What is he doing with his life? How the hell does he have a better credit score than you? Where is his money even coming from?!

You force him into the corner of your house one afternoon with a broom in hand.

"Sunshine, I really think—"

"Spit it out." You stare him down. "What do you do for work. I refuse to believe I'm in a kdrama, so spit out something you can back up."

Casper presses his back against the wall, eyes darting to the wall as you shake the broom at him, and he grimaces.

"I'll get fired if I tell you—"

"NO ONE HAS A CAMERA IN MY HOUSE SO SPIT IT OUT"

"I'm a grim reaper."

You pause, blinking at your husband, words processing in your brain.

"I'm a grim—"

"They hire people for that?!" You blurt, pausing. "Wait. No. You're spouting nonsense at me."

"I am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are!"

"Not!" Casper turns around to face you, shaking as your grip tightens around the broom. "Please... go through my closet?"

"So your job is literally... murder?" You pause. "My stay at home househusband is secretly some insane man who goes around killing people?!"

"It's not—"

"Then what is it?!" You raise a brow at him, unconvinced.

"We get a list." He sighs. "And we get everyone's name."

"Wait." You pause. "Why the hell did you agree to marry me then!?"

"That's not—"

You shake the broom at him.

"You were supposed to die years ago but kept avoiding death so I've just decided to marry you to see WHY you're not DYING." Casper braces himself for the broom's impact, but you're too stupefied to give him a proper answer.

"I'm supposed to be dead?"

"Well..." He grimaces. "You can't really... die." 

"I'm immortal?"

"Your... soul." He pauses, turning his head to the side. "Your soul is endless, and you constantly give life to those around you... including me."

You pause. "So you married me because I'm a natural healer? Wait. No. You married me to kill me?! This isn't some josei manga, you know?!"

"Yes, but." Casper sighs, shoulders relaxing as you drop the broom. "You are so lovely."

"You're just saying that."

"I am not." He mumbles. "I would have just taken your soul if you were not."

"Oh, so this is pretty privilege?"

"It's not—"

"Wow, Caspie. I thought you actually loved me." You pretend to sigh. 

"I do—"

"You didn't kill me because you think I'm lovely? If that doesn't—"

Casper grabs your wrists, holding them in place as he blinks at you, grumbling. "Would you shut up and listen to me for just a second? Goodness, sunshine, I love you. I'd go mad if I did not have you as my beloved."

You tilt your head at him, and he sighs.

"I love you. I'm not going to try killing you anymore."

You sigh, shaking your wrists loose as you press your lips to his, humming. Casper doesn't argue with it, humming as his lips slot against yours, hands moving down to your waist. 

"So we aren't getting a divorce?" You mumble.

"No." He grumbles. "What do you want for dinner?"

A smirk spreads on your face as he sighs.

Still. He loves you.

[nobodysdaydreams]

Me: *Knows that Y/N means “your name” and is supposed to be a substitute placeholder for the reader’s name because it’s been explained to me so often*

Me: *Sees another tumblr post with Y/N in it*

Me: “Ah yes. The infamous multi fandom character “Yes/No” is at it again.”

[myfictionaldreams]

!STOLEN CONTENT!

Once again, I find myself losing my patience with the internet. Thank you to the amazing anon for notifying me that someone on Wattpad has posted my content as their own.

The User: JustHeatherr

Please report this person for stealing not only my own but others' work as well. It's disgusting and shameful, and downright fucking lazy to copy and paste work that others have spent hours and hours on and pretend it's their work.

My work that is stolen: JamesPotter - Dry humping. You can find the original here

I've linked the other stories stolen from other creators; please click on each fic and share the love to the original authors and stories!:

House Pride // T. Nott by @distantdarlings found here - reposted as Theodore nott - the gets jealous

a favour - theo Nott x reader by @dramaticals found here -- reposted as Theodore Nott - getting over your ex

And I don't wanna forget how your voice sounds - ex!theo Nott by @morwap found here -- reposted as Theodore Nott - Make up sex

Costume? that's barely clothes x theo not by @mrsriddlenott found here -- reposted as theodore Nott - that's barely clothes

'just once (part 2) tom riddle x reader by @cardansriddle found here-- reposted as tom riddle - just once

'call me by your name' tom riddle by @pasukiyo found here -- reposted as Tom Riddle - call be my name

The Game' - mattheo riddle by @smuttyworks found here -- reposted as mattheo riddle - the game

'the anything but party' m.r x reader by @suugarbabe found here -- reposted as 'anything but a party - mattheo riddle

'we are done' mattheo riddle by @slytherinslut0 found here -- reposted as mattheo riddle we are done

'through rain or shine' lorenzo berkshire by @slytherinslut0 found here -- reposted as lorenzo berkshire through the rain

Lorenzo Berkshire - Boobsessed, posted to Tumblr and found here

Once again, thank you to the anon who notified me. Please continue to spread love and reblog/like people's content! We all do this for fun, but when others think they can steal our content, it takes away any joy and makes me reluctant to post again. Anyway, love y'all.

[bunnykittii]

is there somewhere on this cold, decaying planet a speeding bullet fic WITHOUT the piss kink?????

[tahbhie]

So you want to write a novel before 2025 runs out, huh?

10 actions you should include in your list to make that dream a reality.

1. Practice Time Blocking  

Trust me, you need it. Allocating specific blocks of time for writing can significantly boost your productivity and help you stay focused. Emphasis on ‘stay focused’.

2. Have an Idea Reservoir or Tank 

Create a dedicated space to store all your ideas during brainstorming sessions or whenever inspiration strikes. I recommend Google Docs and Notion to keep everything organized and easily accessible.

3. Watch More Movies and Read New Books 

There's no better way to expand your horizons than consuming diverse media. This is such a great way to spark fresh ideas and provide new perspectives for your writing.

4. Listen to Writing Podcasts and Join Helpful Newsletters  

Stay updated and inspired by listening to writing podcasts and subscribing to newsletters that offer tips, advice, and industry news. It changes everytime. Who says 2025 would be any different? It's best to be prepared. 

5. Create a Playlist 

Arrange your favorite tracks in a way that suits your writing mood. Music can be a powerful tool to set the tone and mood. It helps you feel relaxed and aid scene projections. It also enhances your creativity.

6. Join an Active Writer's Community 

Yes, it's that important. Whether it's an online forum or a local group, being part of a community provides valuable feedback and critique. Engaging with fellow writers also offer support and motivation.

7. Build Your Social Presence  

I feel this isn't addressed enough. If you want people to get invested in your work, start promoting your book and what you do even before it's finished. Share your journey and let people fall in love with your process and personality.

8. Write a List of Comfortable Spots  

Identify and list the places where you feel most comfortable and productive while writing. Having a go-to spot can help you get into the right mindset.

9. Research Writing Tools 

Explore various writing tools and find the ones that work best for you. Discard the rest to avoid clutter and distraction.

10. Invest in Writing Courses  

If you can, take courses that will help you improve your craft. Courses are now made into digestible sections, covering an important segment of writing in elucidating details, which saves you the hassle of paying high figures for a course.

Lastly, go easy on yourself 

Understand that some days will be unproductive, and others will exceed your expectations. This doesn't make you any less of a writer. Love yourself for what you do, appreciate your work for what it is, and value your effort no matter the outcome. You need to love your work first before others will.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Happy new year fams 🥳🌹

[2soulscollide]

The right FREE tools to write a book

hello hello, it's me!

today I was thinking of how much you loved my masterlist featuring some free tools for writers, and I thought I would do something like that again but, this time, featuring just one or two tools per step while getting the best of "the writer's workbook" (which is also free).

before going any further, for those who don't know, "the writer's workbook" is, as the name says, a workbook for writers, with over 90 pages. it has lots of sheets divided into categories, to help you build the skeleton of your novel. (know more about it here).

however, we can get the most out of it using other complementary tools to ease this process.

Brainstorming

Reedsy generator - it's one of my favorites, and it can be quite useful when you're stuck and want to get an idea. you're free to make changes to it so that it is as unique as possible.

Mindmap

Lucidspark - although it has a premium version, I find it so helpful when it comes to making a mindmap. I've used it multiple times before, including for college assignments, and it's one of the best I've found so far.

Mindmup - I'm sharing this one here as an alternative to lucidspark, since this one doesn't require to create an account, and you have access to unlimited maps. however, in my opinion, it is not as good or intuitive as lucidspark is.

Come up with names

Behind the name - it's a classic, but one of my favorites. you can search every name you could ever imagine, and get its meaning, history, variations, etc. it still has some tools you can use such as a name generator, anagrams, and much more.

Make a profile

Fake person generator - although it was not created for authors, you might find it useful since it gives lots of details and you can be interested in some fields.

Character generator - this one was made for writers, and is simple and easy to use.

Family tree

Family echo - it's so simple yet so helpful.

Maps

Inkarnate - it has a paid version, but you can use it for free and create a great map.

Politics

Filteries - this is sooo complete and accurate!

hope this was helpful! have a nice day <3

[bagelfyre]

Deep in the heart of the human lands, past the walls no Fae have crossed in centuries, tucked away in the royal gardens of one kingdom, lies a statue.

A relic from many generations ago, it has survived remarkably well. They— the studious groundskeepers and few nobles who come upon it— say that little is known about the curious monument with no known names or titles. Most suspect it to be a statement to the near-immortal race the humans had fought and won their freedom from in the War. Some even boasting that they knew it to be stolen from the Fae before the Wall went up. A trophy with a message carved into the stone should those cursed creatures ever set sight upon it again.

But it was none of those things.

A secret commission by Queen Andromache shortly after returning home from victory, the task went largely unnoticed during the extensive reconstruction period in the kingdom. Only she knew what her intent behind the memorial had been and only one other could ever understand— was the only one who ever had.

When choosing what words, if any, should be engraved, many titles came to mind: warrior, ally, queen in her own right, ambassador, friend, love. They all fit, but none encompassed her unresolved feelings or the person at the root of them.

So these words spilled forth as a silent-yet-defiant declaration to the world (to her) and a reassurance to herself as the years passed.

Maybe she wasn’t blessed or cursed with immortality, but this… this memory will remain.

@morweekofficial