This is Our Story to Write
- Reads 18
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Something wells up in Tumblr's throat as they realise that they can't just go up and talk to them. AO3 would never humour them with a conversation, nothing more than a passing word- maybe not even. They're far too refined for that. Tumblr looks down at their wrists, adorned with loom bands, kandi bracelets, leather cuffs and scars.
They're far too refined for that.
----------------------------
AO3 doubles over, head hitting the counter softly as the pain flares up again. They sink to the floor against their best efforts, as though gravity has increased on them specifically, clutching themselves in pain. She's sure she makes some sort of groan as her vision blackens, and she's fairly certain half the books on the counter clatter down with her.
Their heart... fuck...
All Rights Reserved
#4
scenegirl
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
You may also like
Karma's Heart
Karma's Heart is a slow burn, emotionally charged love story between two opposites who clash, combust, and slowly come undone in each other's orbit. Pelo moved into the apartment complex for peace, not problems. Especially not ones like Karma-a shirtless, smug, maddening neighbour who insists on touching her boundaries and tipping her world off balance. She's prickly. He's persistent. But what begins as tension, irritation, and barbed banter evolves into something layered and tender: stolen glances, slow confessions, unspoken knowing. Through sickness and missteps, dreams and doorsteps, arguments and almosts, they learn what it means to choose each other. Over and over. To hold space. To rebuild trust. To stay soft in a world that made them hard. Because sometimes love doesn't arrive gently. Sometimes, it knocks like consequence- But stays like heart. --- OPENING LINES (Draft): Pelo didn't like people. She especially didn't like him. The first time Karma touched her, she recoiled like he'd passed a live wire to her skin. Germs, she told herself. But it wasn't just that. It was the way his hand lingered. The way he looked at her like he already knew how the story would go. And she hated that. Because she had moved here for peace. Not for a man with tattoos, trouble in his grin, and a voice that could talk her into bad decisions if she stood too close too long. Not for someone who made her say please in her head when she didn't want him to follow, and made her scream into pillows when he did. But Karma never asked for permission. And the worst part? A small, buried part of her didn't want him to. #1 poeticlove #1 steamymoments #1 blackwomenlead #3 touchstarved #1 softmasculinity #1 blackgirlmagic
Salvation | 18+
𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐋𝐢𝐧 didn't live. She existed. With many names and identities, one sticks out above the others; The Right Hand to the Devil. The Underworld fears her. Her boss knows better than to try and tame her. Death crafted her. Hell shaped her. Murder gave her something to quench that thirst for someone's life slipping through her hands. 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 is a best selling author with a bank account that runs deep and looks that rival a Greek God, but no one knows him. He doesn't need anyone, doesn't want them. And after spending his life pretending to be the perfect gold boy, the machine of a writer, he's ready to waste away in his apartment. But with a single encounter with a woman and a gun, life doesn't flash before his eyes. It starts. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬. He's seen things no one should and she walked out of Hell with more scars than she can count. One of them will 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. The other will 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞.Complete
Saved {A Markiplier Fanfiction} //COMPLETED//
Years of abuse "I shakily touched my cheek to see blood on my fingers and broke down into tears" Lies "It's nothing, I'm fine" And fear "I started crying, trying to cover my head" Until 13 year old Y/N was Saved. *Please note this is not your typical BF/GF fanfic. There are also dark topics and vulgar language starting from chapter 8* *Sorry, I used 'she' as the pronoun. But you can replace it with your specification.* COMPLETEDComplete
THE SPACE BETWEEN US
"COME ON!" he yelled, popping back up and slicking his hair out of his face like he was in a shampoo commercial. "IT'S NOT THAT BAD!" "That's what people say right before they die," I muttered, clutching my towel tighter around my shoulders. Kai was already stripping off his shirt like we were in an Abercrombie & Fitch: Wilderness Edition ad. Robin, on the other hand, was sitting safely on a rock with a bag of chips, observing the chaos with a judgmental squint and zero intention of getting wet. "You going in?" Felix asked beside me, voice soft but teasing. He had his hoodie slung over one shoulder, his shirt lifted slightly where he was fidgeting with the hem. I looked at him, suspicious. "Are you?" He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Only if you do." "Oh, so if I drown from hypothermia, you're cool going down with me?" "Basically," he said, and smiled-the real kind. The crooked, honest kind. The kind I was starting to crave without meaning to. And just like that, my stubborn pride made the decision for me. "Fine. But if I die, I'm haunting you first." ... The humorous people hater, Athena. The girl with a quiet demeanor when she's not with people she's comfortable with and who hates attention from people she doesn't like (which is probably many in this case). She always keeps a low profile in school and tries to push through the endless social interactions around her. The friend group who she lives with is the complete opposite, they're chaotic to say the least. The artsy blonde girl who has a dick of a boyfriend, and the gay dude with musical talent, where the best people she met. When she waits for the bus she takes from school to home, she meets the Asian boy who draws. Read to embrace their story. ... Complete:✔️Complete
Weightless
She sat down on the floor. Knees drawn to her chest, hands pulling at her hair. She couldn't take it anymore. She ripped out a bunch of her hair and laughed at the pain it brought her. Nothing could be compared to the pain she already felt. She couldn't describe what she felt. Even after killing her tormentor the pain still wouldn't go away. The joy she felt when stabbing Alison was the ultimate feeling. She couldn't stop laughing, as she continued to stab Alison over and over again, but even that high cleared. She smiled as she remembered the memory. It was the best she'd have for a long time. She stood up and threw the ripped hair in the bin. Even though she still had those melancholy dark feelings in the depths of her, killing Alison had chipped away some of it. But no matter how bad felt, no matter how low she went, or how far broken she was, she'd still rise up. Somehow gravity didn't apply to her. And she wouldn't let it. *Elizabeth Lynnwood was the most normal teenager in the world until the universe suddenly decided to turn things around. She had the perfect family, the perfect grades and the perfect life. And out of nowhere they all simultaneously started to crumble. First was the death of her parents. A car accident. Of course. Being an only child, she had no one left, apart from her relatives on the other side of the country and the one drunk of an uncle in the next neighborhood. No one wanted her. Uncle Kennedy took her in, not by choice. Life took a very bad turn for her and highschool made it so much worse. Highschool they say are the best days of your life. Bullshit. Highschool had turned her into the monster she was now.Complete
Fragile..?
(Creepypasta X FemReader) Some say I'm too sensitive but truth is...I just feel too much. Every word. Every action. Every energy. Everything just goes straight to my heart. My life was never really a perfect life but it was at least decent. But its always quite possible things will turn out far better than they appear so I always look forward to tomorrow. But recently things have been horrible and there's this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I feel I should listen to. Who knew listening to a gut feeling would've given me something so powerful... ~~~~~~~~~ Author's personal favorite part of the book: "Man, do you know how fast angels are? Like, daaaaaamn! Can you believe I am feeling the tiniest bit exhausted? WOW!" ~~~~~~~~~ The original photo of the cover belongs to SunProjects, credit goes to them for the artwork! I just edited it to make the cover, all photos aren't mine unless said otherwise. Thank you! First published: September 18, 2021 Yea this is an X Reader, yea this is a creepypasta story- what of it? Take note, take this into careful consideration! The Contents within this story will disturb you. I am basing the killers as real life criminals, criminals who do not care what age you are to hook up with, criminals who don't care about your personal boundaries, who won't ask for permission or be your usual fictional Creepypasta characters. But I wont be that fucking rude, I'm mixing them with fiction and reality. More in Ch1. ╮(─▽─)╭Complete
Karma's Heart is a slow burn, emotionally charged love story between two opposites who clash, combust, and slowly come undone in each other's orbit. Pelo moved into the apartment complex for peace, not problems. Especially not ones like Karma-a shirtless, smug, maddening neighbour who insists on touching her boundaries and tipping her world off balance. She's prickly. He's persistent. But what begins as tension, irritation, and barbed banter evolves into something layered and tender: stolen glances, slow confessions, unspoken knowing. Through sickness and missteps, dreams and doorsteps, arguments and almosts, they learn what it means to choose each other. Over and over. To hold space. To rebuild trust. To stay soft in a world that made them hard. Because sometimes love doesn't arrive gently. Sometimes, it knocks like consequence- But stays like heart. --- OPENING LINES (Draft): Pelo didn't like people. She especially didn't like him. The first time Karma touched her, she recoiled like he'd passed a live wire to her skin. Germs, she told herself. But it wasn't just that. It was the way his hand lingered. The way he looked at her like he already knew how the story would go. And she hated that. Because she had moved here for peace. Not for a man with tattoos, trouble in his grin, and a voice that could talk her into bad decisions if she stood too close too long. Not for someone who made her say please in her head when she didn't want him to follow, and made her scream into pillows when he did. But Karma never asked for permission. And the worst part? A small, buried part of her didn't want him to. #1 poeticlove #1 steamymoments #1 blackwomenlead #3 touchstarved #1 softmasculinity #1 blackgirlmagic
More detailsContent Guidelines