#wattpad

[hwang-inho-132]

you read stuff on wattpad for shit and giggles where most of the fics there are reader-inserted ones written in 1st person pov where y/n is a barely legal white girl with blonde hair and blue “orbs” who’s so smol and fragile that she’s dependent entirely on this morally questionable guy who’s killing people for a living but for some reason happens to have a soft spot for her.

you read real actual literature on archive of our own where it’s two middle aged men, who are each other’s sworn enemies, with tragic past, trauma and strong homoerotic tension. and while they’ve made each other bleed, killed each other’s friends and loved ones out of jealousy / possessiveness, lied and betrayed and manipulated, the rawness, depth, complexity and slow burn will keep you up all night, haunt you during your day and possibly change your life forever. and also the sex isn’t just smut. the sex is poetry that puts Shakespeare to shame

[pascalovr]

When I get to the end of the fanfic and it says, "I'll update soon".......... it was written in 2017

[sp7-mr]

[beepbeepboopboop8]

Kit:

[innerenigma]

•Normalize Fanart for Fanfics Again You Fools•

It's not cringe anymore (it SHOULDN'T be cringe anymore), just do it. You're doing something you enjoy, who cares what anybody else says! So spread the words my fellow internet brethren.

Spread the Word :)

[fallsndreamsalone]

[not-mary-sue]

Alright, to ao3's soon to be arriving Wattpad Refugees, a basic guide to general user culture:

1.) Unlike Wattpads vote system that let's you like each chapter, the ao3 equivalent kudos only allows one per work. Everyone is generally quietly annoyed about this. To engage with each chapter, you're heavily encouraged to comment. Trust me, it makes people's day.

2.) Ao3 has no algorithm. By default it's latest updated work first. You can find things to your taste through searches, filters and tags.

3.) 'No archive warnings apply' and 'user has chosen not to use archive warnings' mean two very different things. No archives warnings means the work is free from any content that could require a warning tag (character death, graphic depictions of violence, non-con, etc). User has chosen not to use archive warnings means it could contain any of the warning content, be it hasn't been explicitly tagged. Treat it like an allergen. No archive warnings apply is allergen free. User has chosen not to use archive warnings, may contain traces or whole chunks of the allergen. If you're likely to have a bad reaction, maybe don't take the risk.

4.) Speaking of warnings, ao3 has very few restrictions on the type of work that's allowed. Whatever your personal thoughts or feelings on that are, thats how the site is. You're likely to run across some dark subject matters and a lot of people are uncomfortable with reading that. You're well within your rights not like these works and have your opinion on whether they should be allowed, but harassing the authors of such works (or any works) is more likely to come back on you than them. Ao3 operates on a strong policy of 'don't like, don't read'. Use the tagging system to your full advantage to only engage with the kind of works you want to see.

We look forward to welcoming you all and seeing the fantastic works you create. Happy writing!

[wintersrealm]

Literally have a spite fic in my drafts right now as a gift to JK Rowling 🤣

I love writing spite fics, spite is one of, if not my complete, favourite drive for writing a fanfiction.

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[theonlyonesora]

Trouble, Mon Amour

Charles Leclerc x Reader

“You can’t just disappear like that,” he says, voice low and tight, though you can hear the storm gathering behind his calm.

You toss your heels on the counter and shrug off your jacket, like you hadn’t just given him a panic attack by vanishing for hours without a text. “I didn’t disappear. I was living.”

“Living,” he repeats, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. “With your phone off? After midnight?”

You saunter toward him with that smile—that one—the one that always twists the knife just a little deeper. “I was with Colette. She was sad. Needed cheering up.”

Charles runs a hand through his already tousled hair. “You could have told me.”

You pause. Just for a second. That flicker in your eyes—guilt, maybe. But you mask it quickly.

“And you would’ve told me not to go.”

“I would’ve told you to be careful,” he says, stepping closer now, the frustration in his chest slowly crumbling under the gravity that’s always pulled him to you. “Or to take a driver. Or at the very least, text me when you get home.”

“I’m home now,” you whisper, standing toe to toe with him, tilting your head like a challenge. “Why don’t you say what you really want to say?”

His hands slide to your waist, and it’s like he doesn’t know whether to shake you or pull you closer. He settles for the latter—always the latter.

“You are my problem,” he murmurs, voice rough. “One continuous headache. A fire I can’t put out.”

You smile softly, your fingers threading into the hem of his shirt. “Then let me burn you.”

He leans in, forehead pressed to yours, the scent of sea salt and tension thick between you.

“I hate how much I love you.”

“No, you don’t.”

He kisses you then—deeply. Like a man starved. Like he’s trying to memorize the shape of your chaos in his mouth. And you kiss him back with every ounce of reckless joy in your bones.

When he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his grip firm and frustrated, you laugh into his kiss. Because this is what you do—pull the storm out of him, and then calm it with your mouth, your touch, your laugh.

And later, as you lie tangled in his arms, your legs draped over his hips and the Monte Carlo skyline glowing just beyond the glass—

He whispers against your temple, softer now:

“I don’t care how much trouble you are. You’re mine.”

And in that moment, you believe it. Not because you’re easy to love, but because he chooses to love you anyway. Fully. Madly. Stupidly.

Like the fool he is. And the fool you’ve made him.

.

You wake up to the smell of espresso.

For a long moment, you just lie there, tangled in Charles’ sheets, the silence broken only by the gentle clink of a spoon against porcelain. Your limbs ache in that delicious way that speaks of being loved too hard, too thoroughly, too late into the night.

Sunlight spills across the bed in golden stripes, warming your skin where the blanket has fallen away. You stretch like a cat, slow and smug.

He left you a shirt. His favorite Ferrari tee, oversized and soft from too many washes. You slip into it and pad barefoot into the kitchen.

He’s there, of course—barefoot too, hair a mess, shirtless, leaning against the marble island with a mug in his hands and a storm still smoldering in his eyes.

God, he’s beautiful like this. Untamed. Bruised from your mouth. Tired from your love.

“You’re not mad anymore,” you say, stealing a sip of his coffee without asking.

He watches you over the rim of the mug. “I’m still mad. I just prefer being mad with you in my shirt.”

You grin, curling up on one of the stools. “You’re so dramatic in the mornings.”

Charles walks over and stands between your knees, setting the cup down to brush your hair back from your face with maddening gentleness. “You scare me, you know.”

Your breath catches. “What?”

“You live like nothing can touch you. Like the world will bend to your whim.” His hands rest on your thighs, thumbs pressing lightly into the bare skin. “But the world doesn’t bend. It breaks. And I don’t want it to break you.”

Something about the way he says it—like it costs him something—makes your throat tighten.

“I’ve always lived like this,” you murmur. “Even before you.”

“I know.” His voice is quieter now. “But now I’m in it. With you. And I don’t know how to stand back and watch you burn.”

You slide your hands into his hair, tugging gently, pulling him closer until your foreheads touch.

“Then don’t watch,” you whisper. “Burn with me.”

He groans, low and helpless, and kisses you like he’s surrendering.

Later, you lie on the sofa, his head in your lap while your fingers trace idle lines across his temple. The television is on mute, some post-race commentary flickering across the screen. There’s a photo of him in a crisp red polo, sunglasses, charming the cameras. And next to it—you.

Caught in the chaos. Laughing in the paddock with a microphone in your hand. Spinning around in heels, your dress fluttering like you belonged there.

You don’t say anything. But he sees it too.

“They’re already calling you the Ferrari siren,” he says, eyes still closed. “A ‘beautiful liability.’”

You roll your eyes. “Better than being boring.”

He hums. “You’ve never been boring. You’re the opposite of boring. You’re everything that makes me question my sanity.”

“Yet here you are,” you smirk, stroking his cheek.

Charles opens his eyes then, soft and vulnerable in a way only you ever get to see. “Here I am,” he echoes, voice low. “Head over heels for the most reckless woman I know.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulls you down into a kiss—slow and deep and absolutely true.

“No,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “I wouldn’t.”

[abreathlessplace]

"i wonder if we ever think of each other at the same time."

[slaymitchabernathy]

people talk abt how scared haymitch must’ve been when he saw the hijacked peeta on the screens in thirteen bc of lou lou, but i know the SECOND peeta started spilling the tea he overheard in the mansion, he was like: “oh yeah, that’s my boy!” no one drops bombs like that other than Plpeeta lmfao.

this may not be peeta.

he just shared information that will inconvenience the capitol? fuck yeah, it’s peeta!!! gale, go get him!!!

[1cyyminds]

[multi-fandom-lunatic]

flutter. the word was flutter

[voxslays]

[feydspet]

Austin Butler stop pointing your knife at women's neck challenge! 😒

(ME NEXT PLS) 🙏🏻😘

#god help me I'm going crazy

#feyd did nothing wrong my poor baby was being abus3d 😭

#psychopath fictional characters are my fav gender