“𝓘’𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓭 𝓪 𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼”
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Reblog to give prev the power to write their fanfiction
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Reblog to give prev the power to write their fanfiction
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Some idiot: "Why are you reading your own fic, that's shallow and stupid"
All fanfic writers and writers everywhere: "Who the fuck do you think I wrote it for?!"
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i love x reader. 🥹 i think it’s so fun and creative. it’s not a perfect genre by any means, but even with its faults i think the pleasure of ending up on adventure after adventure after adventure with your favourite characters as you, the reader, are continuously reinvented and reimagined over and over again, is worth celebrating and protecting—and most importantly, creating for. 💅🏽📚✨
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it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
IT MAY TAKE ME A MONTH TO PUT OUT A CHAPTER BUT AT LEAST IM NOT USING AI TO WRITE IT
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Writing Tips
Punctuating Dialogue
✧
➸ “This is a sentence.”
➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.
➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”
➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”
➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”
➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”
➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.
“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.
“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”
➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”
➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”
However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!
➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.
If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)
➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“
“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.
➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.
➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”
➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.
“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”
➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.
“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”
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but i stay silly! *←said in the most world-weary voice you ever did hear*
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LADS Men React a Picture of You with Another guy
Request: Hii!! I love your writing so so much (pls never stop)!!! How do you think the lads men would react to the following scenario: mc makes one of her girl friends dress like a guy and post that on her story/moments (to ward off an annoying co-worker, like what Caleb did in uni, but mc didnt want to bother the guys with this request so she asked Tara or another one of her girl friends). The picture, though, is convincing enough to make even the lads men question if she actually does have a partner and who tf is he. I think Xavier would absolutely malfunction since they are also neighbours lol
AN: I am taking a break from the ship event to gather some inspiration. But this was super fun to write. Thank you for sending in such an amazing idea.
Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺
Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader
Genre: fluff and angst
(I do not own these characters)
Summary: Waking up after an amazing girls' night, you and Tara spent the morning taking silly photos, making all kinds of concerning faces, until inspiration struck.
"Wait, wait, hold on," Tara grinned, pushing her short hair back. "What if—"
Moments later, you were both giggling uncontrollably, staging fake hard launch photos in your bed. The blurry, cozy results? Surprisingly convincing.
"Oh, this is gonna blow up at work."
Tara rested her chin on your neck, wrapping an arm around you for the final shot. The picture was better than you imagined, so naturally, you posted it to your story before the two of you rushed to get ready for work.
And just like that, your social media went up in flames.
Rafayel:
623 missed calls. 200 texts. 82 more missed calls.
All hours after your post.
Who is he? Why are you in bed with him? Is he your boyfriend? What is his name?
You barely have time to breathe after your meeting before the onslaught of texts floods in. Even the comment section of your post hasn’t been spared.
Thomas is already on the case. Rafayel is whining, sobbing, crying and absolutely not afraid to play dirty to get you back.
He's already planned a hundred ways to nip this budding romance at the root.
He thinks he has the upper hand, feels kinda smug about it too.
Still… there’s a twinge of heartbreak. A little ache for having to wait longer for you, for the idea that you might have chosen someone else. But if nothing else, Rafayel is persistent.
So, of course, he’s already forgiven you.
But don’t think, even for a second, that he won’t complain about it.
He’s still mulling over it, dramatically painting all his canvases black, getting ready for his villain arc, when you finally call him back.
"A prank?"
He is indignant.
He cried over a prank.
All that effort… for nothing.
"IT’S BEEN 800 YEARS. JELLYFISH ARE WALKING. NAKED SEA TURTLES ARE CLIMBING TREES. SHARKS ARE EATING GRASS—FOR FREE. "
AND RAFAYEL?
RAFAYEL CRIED OVER A PRANK.
HE WENT FULL VILLAIN ARC FOR A LIE.
HIS CANVASES ARE BLACK. HIS PLANS FOR REVENGE? RUINED.
ALL BECAUSE YOU AND TARA WANTED TO PLAY GAMES.
He might never recover. Might. But first, he needs to call Thomas back before his "investigation" starts a national crisis.
Xavier:
He had just returned from a long night of fighting Wanderers when his phone chimed with an alert.
Half-asleep, he smiled at the sight of your name, already thinking of how he'd respond once he changed and collapsed into bed.
That smile froze the moment he saw the picture.
The phone slipped from his fingers, landing on his face. But he didn’t even wince. Too numb to feel it.
His vision blurred. His chest ached. Tears welled, unbidden.
Genuinely heartbroken. So weary. So tired. For a moment, he was shattered.
Did he have the strength to wager another lifetime?
His time was already running out. His strength faded with each passing day. He had selfishly wanted this spring with you...but this was better for you. You were too kind, too caring to bear his loss.
Perhaps this was for the best. His lips trembled at the thought.
You had someone now, someone who would not bring you grief. And you looked so happy in that photo. He stared at the blurred curve of your smile, tracing it with his gaze.
Somehow, he managed a small smile too.
And then he folded into himself. And slept.
For days.
So long that you started to worry, noticing his absence at work.
Until, finally, you barge into his apartment, breathless and frantic, only to find him asleep, moonlight spilling across his face, eerily still.
Your heart plummeted.
"Xavier." Your voice trembled as you rushed to him, fingers shaking as you took his hand.
For a terrible, suffocating second, he didn’t move.
And then, his brow twitched.
Air rushed back into your lungs.
Zayne:
This was to be expected.
He was never what you needed.
He often failed at words. His gestures, too vague to be understood.
You deserved someone who loved you. Someone who had the courage to say those words out loud.
Not him.
Not someone who could hurt you. His scars only grow deeper with time.
So he accepts it. Buries himself in work.
If he could not be your lover, then he would play his part as a friend.
Pays extra attention to your health. Pours over your reports. He must. Because he is no longer close enough to watch over you himself.
And weeks later, when you finally visit him, he keeps up the act—cold, distant, unbothered.
He does all the tests. Runs all the checks. Everything is routine.
But you see it.
The dark circles, deeper than ever. His skin, paler. Cheeks, sunken. His shirt, unwashed.
"You're coming home with me."
Your voice leaves no room for argument as you take his hand. "You never call. You only text about my reports and nothing more. We need to talk."
You tug him forward. He follows, until he stops.
"Your boyfriend won’t like it," he murmurs, staring anywhere but at you.
Silence.
"What boyfriend?"
You blink at him, dumbfounded.
Sylus:
Sylus spits his coffee, choking as he stares at the pictures.
Does not buy it.
That’s clearly not a man.
Yet somehow, he keeps going back to it, again and again.
It’s only when Luke and Kieran peer over his shoulder that his denial starts cracking.
"Ooooh, boss has got competition," Luke chimes.
One minute, they’re laughing. The next, they’re outside the mansion, the door slamming shut behind them.
Luke blinks. "That explains..."
Kieran yanks him into a chokehold for getting them banished for the day.
Inside, Sylus switches to wine.
The day has been too much.
Not a man, right? he muses, scrutinizing the photo, before accidentally pressing the heart button.
And then, he all but chews the glass in his hand.
He’s not worried.
He just suddenly feels the urge to burn his entire closet because nothing looks good enough.
He doesn’t care.
He’s just made a few calls, just to make sure you’re not involved with anyone sketchy. Unless, of course, it’s him.
Then, like an absolute idiot, he gets a panicked call from an associate.
The only person who’s been in your apartment? Tara.
Sylus stares at the image. Facepalms.
That evening, when he picks you up from work, he looks exhausted.
As if a few hours have aged him years.
When you ask, he waves you off, dodging every question.
You raise a brow. "Are you sure? You look—"
"I said it’s nothing," he snaps, before sighing, dragging a hand down his face. "...Can we just go home
Caleb:
Storming to Linkon.
Geared up to blow up the entire apartment complex.
Spends five minutes struggling with the locked door before finally getting it open.
Marches in.
Stops. Sighs in disapproval at your empty fridge.
Good thing he packed snacks. Leaves them on your counter. You’ll thank him later.
Then, back to the mission.
Collects all forensic evidence needed. Marches out.
No time to waste.
Supervises the DNA administration.
Hair sample. Used coffee mug. Both next to yours.
He will find the bastard. He will take him out.
And then, he will whisk you away to Skyheaven, to console you once you learn of your tragic, mysterious loss.
Grief will bring you closer.
Every intern running tests is sweating.
So are the lead scientists, who have been personally forced to oversee this insanity.
No one is messing with the colonel today.
And then, finally, the results land on his desk.
Caleb stares. Dumbfounded.
Is he to fight both men and women for you now?
You better watch out for Tara because he does not discriminate.
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sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four
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This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years.
If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life.
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I love you nerdy black reader I love you ghetto black reader I love you country girl black reader I love you city girl black reader I love you virgin black reader I love you ho black reader I love you weed smoking black reader I love you straight edge black reader I love you black reader and you’re perfect regardless 🫶🏾
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please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts
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