Journal Stories

Hi! I write Boys of Tommen Fan Fiction, and thought it would be fun to have a sort of journal where I could include snippets of upcoming projects, (I'd post the ones I've already uploaded in Conversations), my plans for future stories, as well as visuals, fun facts, and even just things that remind me of the characters and their stories. It can also be a place to discuss the stories, and answer questions :))

[RANT BOOK 1] This is not a STORY Book or Collection of POEMS. This is a RANT BOOK. Tired of the billionaire CEO who "smirks" every three seconds? So am I. If you've ever rolled your eyes at a "clumsy" protagonist or a "bad boy" with a heart of gold, you're in the right place. Rants: Dissecting the tropes we love to hate and that need to retire. Interact: Questions to get your blood boiling. Polls: For those who prefer to click rather than type. The Pit: A comment section where the real comedy happens Grab your tea and let's complain together.

The universe is indifferent. You already knew that. Here's what nobody told you: indifferent isn't the same as empty. HOPANOIA: Red Words to Blue Hearts is a book being written in public - a living document from a trans woman in Georgia who decided that nihilism wasn't the end of the conversation, just the beginning of a more honest one. It's a philosophy manual for people who can't stand philosophy manuals. A memoir for people who distrust memoir. A spiritual practice built by someone who doesn't believe in spirits. A TTRPG framework for the actual campaign of your life. It calls itself a "religion of one" - anti-dogma, open-source, built to be forked and remixed, never followed literally. Its central move is Anomance: the act of animating a dead universe with meaning, not because it's true, but because it makes the universe livable. These are the working notes. 196 parts and counting. Written through mental illness, HRT, grief, political collapse, and the daily act of refusing to go quietly. The real book is being mined from this archive in real time. You're not reading a finished thing. You're watching something become itself. If that sounds like your kind of book - you're already the reader this was written for. Signed: a thot that likes thinking.

• epistolary •

"I didn't realize you were keeping count." "You make it hard not to." He didn't miss a beat. She finally looked up at him then, for a split second, before turning back to the work at hand. "You make it seem like it bothers you." He took a slow step forward. Then another. The passing wood creaked beneath his polished black shoes- not from weight, but rather, intention. And when he did reach her, the air changed. Thickened. He didn't say a word. Just crouched, until their faces were level. His eyes raked over her- slow, invasive, wicked. He reached out, fingers catching her chin in a motion neither tender nor tedious- just possessive in its certainty. Like she was his to tilt- nothing more than something placed where he wanted it. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away, yet her spine straightened- a quiet rebellion he didn't miss. His thumb skimmed the edge of her jaw, tracing the line of it, the motion maddeningly slow. "You should know by now," he murmured, voice lower than before- rough silk, meant for her alone, "I don't waste my time on things," a pause, "not unless they crawl under my skin." He leaned closer, so close the scent of rain on wool and expensive cologne curled around her. "And you, Adair..." His tone sharpened. One breath more and those lips would certainly brush the shell of her ear. "You don't just crawl... no." A pause- sharp, surgical. "You spread, like a fucking disease." --Gray's Grace is a haunting tale of love caught in the gray - where nothing is certain, and everything is at risk.--

Trying to become the man my son deserves - one day at a time. This is me. Every day, trying to be a better man - even when I don't feel like one. A mess of thoughts, failures, wins, and everything in between. This is my journey in real time, raw and unfiltered. I'm not writing for attention. I'm writing for release. I pray that someone finds solace in the words on these pages. This is an ongoing journey with daily entries. It will be long. There will always be something to read. I think of this as a rough draft to a future published book - if I'm lucky enough to make it that far. Because of how I'm writing this, there won't be hundreds of parts. A new part begins each week, and daily entries live within the current week. Simple. Honest. Consistent.

A journal appeared with one rule: Write on the left. It will write back on the right. She thought it was harmless until the dreams began to follow her into reality.

"Some souls don't meet for the first time-they remember each other through different lifetimes, until they finally get it right." He carries a grief he can't name, as if something once essential to him was taken before he learned its shape. In his dreams, a faceless presence lingers-familiar in a way that unsettles more than it comforts. Time moves on, life rearranges itself, and yet something keeps pulling him toward a future he doesn't understand. Then one day, paths cross in a place meant for new beginnings, where recognition stirs without reason... as if forgetting was never the end of their story.

Ask my PPT2 AU characters stuff ig-

Poems in the mind of a girl

I'll be mainly talking about school, crushes, dating etc. I'm trying to become my best self and start living life. Enjoy the book💋🍃

a treasure box of words

when the world hits 2 AM

A collection of journals written in the quietest hours, during the loudest cries no one ever hears. Bleeding ink flows from her heart, engraving pain with every stroke on the page. Page after page is marked with stained tears, a signature of unbearable sorrow. Every fragment of memory is preserved, never forgotten.

Mmmmmm come with me to see if actually obtain any of my goals i set for myself! Currently: i'm restarting my journey from like 3-4 years ago, and i still believe in this stuff so huzzah! I'm setting my goals on being an avian this time around however. Out of curiosity are there any journals for people's mythical journey still active anymore? I remember when i was younger (in like 7th or 8th grade) I would obsess over reading all of the possible ones I could find. My old account got deleted however... So I no longer have access to all of those reading lists :,) Anyways, Enjoy reading this! (or don't- i can't stop you lol)

hey guys, you might be thinking this is Wattpad then why this girl is writing journal here,so dear people you'll find all answers to your questions, in my this journal itself just read it from start to end.. With love, Tripti

{DAILY UPDATES, ACTIVE} start date: may 12th 2026 end date: essentially, i'll just be documenting my weight loss progress and what i'm doing/not doing to try and lose the weight. i used to love reading these stories as a child, now here i am: desperate and trying to find any way to actually lose this weight. if you'd like to join me for this, please do! thank you so much for reading

A place to share some of my writing

New Normal: Is this how everything really works? Dear Diary, 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘦. It sounds mature and nerve-wracking as you will surely face and experience a lot of new things you may have already heard from your parents, upperclassmen, and read somewhere in blogs by influencers. Mine is about to unravel 34 days from now and it is not something I'm so excited about. I'm curious-and those are two different things. Dindin (05/06/26)

The end of Louis William Rhodes' legacy, or is it? Benedict is a very tranquil boy, you could say. He had lost his only friend shortly after his brother had passed away, and without much to turn towards, he decided to live his life in a way where total isolation would become his only comfort. However, while some things are noted to be eternally in a loss, some things are noted to be eternally on a route different from their past. This is the story of not just a boy who went through pain and hardship, but rather, a story of a boy who chose to change his path once and for all.