#I’m not even updating this story right now lol

[revelboo]

I LOVE your Soundwave(s) and Tarn! Those are my top two fav tfs (SW has been my fav since I was a wee thing!) and I love the way you write them both! Your stories are my daily decadent luxuries. <3

I read your pages every single day because I love all your stories so much — even ones that have characters that I’m really not interested in, I still can’t get enough of their stories! You’ve basically re-mapped my list of favourites and now I have so many more… You even made me like a spider! These characters-first stories literally drive my day and they mean so much to me, I can’t even begin to thank you enough for them.

I do, however, start missing some of these wonderful characters when I haven’t ‘heard from them’ in a while though, lol, especially ones on cliffhangers/edges/buildups. I’m currently ‘missing’ :

— Sunstreaker (so what’s my fav sunshine boy going to do now, eh?);

— the Rainmakers (I can’t wait for the little human to really get their attention); and

— the Constructicons (that last part to “Drive” makes me feel like it’s that moment right before wee little me gets to open my presents).

Although I wouldn’t object to Vortex, Megatronus, and Brainstorm making some noise too, since they were also left hanging a bit, lol.

I’m seriously attempting not to just list all my favs, but it isn’t easy since you’ve made me love soooooo many more of them, lol. <3

When you’re feeling up to it, could we have more Needs and Wants? I am one of those people that just systematically goes through the entire Otome to see all of the endings and ‘keep’ my fav one(s), and this story had me HOOKED from the opening sentence. Soundwave, Tarn, and Misfire? Hell yeah, sign me up! :D

Take care of yourself & know that your writing is fuel for so many of my days. <3

Thank you so much! I wanted to get more stuff updated this past weekend and kind of got myself into an ‘everything I write is garbage’ funk 😅

Needs and Wants Pt 5

Soundwave x Reader, Tarn x Reader, Misfire x Reader, Ratchet x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader

• It’s the mech’s almost self deprecating smile and the flicking of his door wings that breaks through the overwhelming reality of your so-called soul mates. That look on his eerily human face that seems as uncertain as you feel somehow reassuring you. And Maccadam is right there, arms crossed as he watches the interaction like a father watching a potential suitor and trying to decide how bad to scare the kid. “We can talk,” you manage, voice shaky.

• “Okay, that’s- thank you,” he manages, tripping over his own words, and his tension eases as that feeling of warmth and belonging grows stronger, more insistent at the sound of your voice. Wants you to keep talking to him. Smile for him. Maybe let him touch your hand. Would that be too much? To let him touch a servo to those delicate looking fingers? Servos gripping the door frame, he feels Wheeljack bump his arm, the scientist’s vocal indicators flickering mauve when he frowns at him. And for the first time that he can remember, he’s speechless, wanting to ask so many things that he can’t say any of them.

• “Hi. Wheeljack here,” he says, awkwardly lifting a hand and warmth spills through him to twine about his spark when you hesitantly lift your own hand with a small, fragile smile. But you’re smiling at him. Shouldering in closer to Bluestreak, he ignores when he gets flicked with a door wing. “You’re looking for a partner?” He asks and you look at Maccadam, expression almost desperate. “I could take care of you.” Wants to try anyway. Because it’s be nice to have someone stay, need him and trust him to look after them. To not be alone.

• Denta gritting at the two Autobots trying to coax you into coming out, Tarn worries at the chains binding his wrists. Wanting loose even if his escape plan has stalled out. Hating that fascination singing through him from being near you to become a yearning he doesn’t want and can’t deny. Maybe when he escapes, he’ll just steal you. Sate this need with you and be satisfied.

• Coming up behind the two bots blocking you from view, Misfire drapes an arm across both of their shoulders, insulating himself between them to make them flinch to his delight. “Name’s Misfire.” And there you are, so small and needing reassuring. “These scary bots overwhelming you? I could keep you safe.” Wings flaring as Tarn and Soundwave both make a noise from behind him. So much for faction solidarity.

• Tempted to drag all three of them away from your door because they’re making you more anxious instead of less, Soundwave rumbles and rocks into agitated motion, pacing restlessly. Why does it feel like he’s tethered to you? Like he needs to be closer. Needs to touch you. Is this Maccadam’s influence or something else? Wants to soothe that nervous energy away.

• Hears Maccadam’s low voice coaxing and then Wheeljack, Bluestreak and that Decepticon seeker are backing away. Letting Maccadam lead you out, your arm tucked in his, a soft hand on his arm as your eyes dart around the room. Hold his optics for too short an amount of time before moving on. Aware that he’s probably the oldest mech here, that you’re unlikely to be interested in him. Even if he’s also the most experienced. Servos flexing, he’s moving closer, but then they all are spreading out, circling you. Hungry.

Previous

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

How many redheads does Peeta bang in “When the Stars Crumble”?

We really gonna do this again? Cut my boy some slack. He got thrown in prison alone, shipped off to a strange planet alone, found out his wife divorced him before he even left earth, and then spent several years dealing with *waves hands* all that.

[shanastoryteller]

this is NOT a request for u to hurry finishing up the new chapter for siat (bc people who do that are ungrateful brats) but a genuine question. Do you feel even less drawn to it right now (spn brain aside) because of what JKR has done to English politics and the lives of trans women? Because I think it would be completely understandable if you felt this was ur final straw to not finish it but I would also get the opposite of it being ‘now there’s even more reason to finish it’ I think both viewpoints are valid and have their reasonings and this is really truly not in any way meant to be a “why isn’t there a new chapter yet!!:(((“ ask I’m just curious what HP fanfic writers (especially someone as well known as you) make of this as I keep seeing posts going around of the “if u still read/write HP fanfic you’re a terf too” variety and I just…disagree with that but also see where they come from (aka helping the fandom stay relevant. But even if we all quit reading and writing fanfic, HP would still be popular and imo the dent fanfic makes isn’t that big in the fandom bc locals still love HP and most people who now read fanfic hate JKR and wouldn’t actually read her books/buy merch)

Regardless of what you decide, know your Audience is behind you,100%. Hell, you dragged most of us (me included) back into Supernatural. I’m excited for the new chapter of tgp!! 💖💖

Thank you for all your words, whatever fandom they may come in (I.e I found you years ago because of your teen wolf fic specifically embers embers but stayed through so many fandoms and even read some I know nothing about) you are a beacon of light in this world and I treasure each of your works truly and with all my heart

thank you, this is a really sweet and nice way of asking, i'm so glad you enjoy my writing <3

but honestly: nah lol

jkr is shit and so are all of her opinions. the influence she has on government sucks and i personally think it's best to avoid giving her money, but i'm not pocketwatching other people

siat, which is a very popular hp fic, is 8 years old and has 2.8 million hits

in 2023 alone, 9.6 million people visited universal studios hollywood, the home of the wizarding world of harry potter

people should engage with media in whatever manner they feel most comfortable and sparks the most joy. but the idea that fanfic is a significant contributor to the cultural zeitgeist is just stupid

siat's on the to do list, i've just been infected with spn brainworms and wbt is also on the list but i feel more compelled to work on that one than siat just because huge chunks of it are already written so it seems a little silly to drag my feet as much as i have, plus at the time it had been a year since i posted the first chapter and i was like. ok come on let's go this is getting ridiculous

it's a goal to get back into a regular update cadence with siat. i'm not tired of it, i don't hate it, i still have an outline and know we're i'm going

it's partially that we're in sort of a tricky part to write, since it's about when a bunch of threads are about to come together and i don't want to fuck it up, and also that demands for updates honest to god really do kill my motivation to work on it. it's not punishment, i'm not trying to be a bitch, but i love the story and want to love sharing it with you, but being treated like a dispenser of fic, or like i owe people something and i'm somehow being selfish or inconsiderate by having fun writing what i want to write, really honestly just kills that. i don't want to write with that in the back of my head

people ask me about siat updates a lot. i don't post anything close to all of them. and if it was just "love the story can't wait to see what happens next!" that wouldn't be a problem, that's nice, i like that people are engaged and interested in what's to come

but a litany of "when will this update?" "is this abandoned?" "what about siat :(" "i don't care about x, why aren't you working on siat?" "you haven't updated siat in a while..." "why haven't you updated siat?" just makes me feel kinda bitter. which isn't a place i want to write from

it will be updated. i probably won't write the next chapter straight through and will alternate with tgp or wbt or whatever, but it's honestly just a mix of brainworms and having a lot of fun with these blorbos and wanting to have be in the right mindset while i write

[coquitokisses]

School fight | Dean Winchester

Word count: 655

Summary: You and Dean receive a call from your daughter’s school telling you that she got into a fight.. her first fight ever

A/n: Oakley is like 10 or 11 years old in this

A/n #2: sorry for not updating sooner, I’ve been going through some personal stuff (which is now better thank god), these last few weeks have been a little rough and my anxiety was through the roof lol I’m feeling okay tho so here is this fic that’s been in my drafts since April 2nd lol enjoy!

It was 12:45 pm when you and Dean arrived at your daughter’s school. You got a call from the principal telling you that Oakley got into a fight with another girl and that she also punched a boy. You couldn’t even believe it.

“She’s grounded.” You told Dean

“No, she’s not, not yet.” He said “We don’t even know what happened.”

“She shouldn’t be fighting with anyone and let alone at school!” You turned to look at him

“Calm down, let’s just wait for her to tell us.”

Calm down? Was he insane?

“Why are you so calm all of a sudden?” You crossed your arms

“It’s not like I didn’t get into a school fight when I was younger.” He says “Can’t exactly scold her for something I’ve done too.”

“She is so your daughter.” You said pinching the bridge of your nose “She’s grounded, end of story.”

“She’s not.”

Before you could say something back, you saw the principal come out of her office with Oakley by her side. Your daughter walked towards you and you noticed her cheekbone was a little red.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You asked her in a low voice, you were obviously mad, but Dean pulled you by the arm

“Stop.” He muttered

“I’m sorry.” Oakley said putting her hands inside her jacket pockets

“Are you hurt?” Dean asked

“Not much, she only punched me once.”

The principal called you both to her office so you went and there, she explained what happened and she also told you that Oakley, along with the other girl and the boy, were suspended for the rest of the week. Quoting the “we don’t tolerate violent behavior in our school” bullshit.

Once the conversation was done, the three of you walked out of the office and as you were walking towards the car, you turned to look at Oakley.

“You have one chance to explain to us what happened exactly and don’t you dare lie because I will know it.” You told her “So, explain.”

“She was being a bully.” She replied “And that other boy, it wasn’t his fight, he was just trying to be a hero or whatever.” She rolled her eyes “He pissed me off so I pushed him away.”

“With a punch straight in the face.” Dean added

She slowly nodded, kinda embarrassed “Um.. yeah.”

“You don’t punch people because they piss you off.” You say “Your dad pisses me off almost everyday, you don’t see me hitting him.”

“But that doesn’t count, you’re together.”

“She has punched me, just saying.” Dean spoke

“Shut up.” You look at him “That’s not the point, you can’t go punching people in school, Oakes.”

“I was just defending myself, isn’t that what you and dad always tell me?”

Touché. Yes, of course you and Dean have told her to defend herself and of course she knows how, after all, her parents were hunters since they were kids. She had to know how to defend/protect herself.

“Well if it was in self defense, then you did good.” Dean told her “But mom’s right too tho.”

She sighed “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven only because it’s your first fight” you say “I hope we don’t get to a second one.”

“If she keeps coming at me, no promises.”

Dean looked at you with a proud smile “She really is my daughter.”

You literally give him a death stare “You think?”

“Okay, how about we order some pizza, hm?” He wrapped one of his arms around Oakley

“Oh yeah sure, cuz we should reward her bad behavior.” You crossed your arms

“Hey it was self defense.” He said

“No pizza. There’s food at home.”

You heard Dean let out a sigh “Wow, mommy’s.. boring.” He looked down at Oakley

She shrugged “Only a little.. sometimes.”

And you could hear their laughs behind you as you got closer to the car.

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Likes, comments & reblogs will be appreciated! <3

Tags: @mychemicalfalloutpilotsstuff @multiversefanfics @ladykitana90 @mostlymarvelgirl @ilovetaquitosmmmm

[mysaintkitten]

more free use/dumbification for tommy and robert please i beg!! ur so talented!

thank you so much !! and although this request asked for free use or dumbification, it’s mostly the latter. will definitely be writing more free use fics though !!

Nocturnal | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

prompt: a late night run in with Tommy (lol)

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), sort of mean tommy, unprotected sex, dumbification

Ada Shelby had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. Everything you’d been through, good and bad, was made manageable with her by your side. The only thing you couldn’t stand was her brother, Tommy. Just the thought of him alone made you want to roll your eyes.

He was arrogant, stubborn, dominant, and worst of all: devilishly attractive. It drove you mad. How could such a gorgeous face be attached to such a vile man?

You’d even bicker occasionally over the smallest things before Ada would come between you and act as a mediator, because of course neither of you could push your pride down long enough to just end the conversation.

But, due to life simply being unpredictable, you had to distance yourself from Ada for about a year. You still stayed in touch, weekly letters updating each other about your lives and new experiences, but life had just become too hectic to make genuine plans.

Luckily though, things began to mellow out and eventually you and Ada were able to make plans to have a sleepover- just like old times.

The two of you spent the late night and early a.m’s chatting and giggling like school girls, until you noticed Ada’s faint snoring as you told a long elaborate story about a horrific professor you had to deal with. With that, you realized the night had come to a close.

Before you followed her in drifting to sleep, you decided to get a drink of water before bed. Tiredly, you left her bedroom and trudged towards the dimly lit room. As you stepped into the kitchen and reached for a glass from the cupboard, you quickly realized you weren’t alone.

“(Y/N)?” You hear a familiar male voice mutter from behind you, causing you to jump and nearly drop the glass out of your hand from being startled. You swiftly turn around on your feet, only to see Tommy sitting there. Of course he’s around the moment Ada’s asleep.

As he sees your face he chuckles and brings a cigarette up to his lips, “didn’t mean to scare you, love.”

“A bit late for that …” you mumble back while trying to relax your racing heart, “why are you up so late?”

Tommy raises his eyebrows and smirks before answering, “I could ask you the same question.”

“Me and Ada were talking, I wanted some water before bed,” you answer as you fill your glass up, “and you?”

“What were you two girls gabbing about? Makeup? Boys?” Tommy replies while ignoring the question you’d asked him, you shake your head and sigh. Tommy knows where your aspirations lie, he’s just trying to push your buttons.

“I don’t exactly have time for a boys right now, my focus is on university,” you clarify before taking a sip of water.

Tommy chuckles condescendingly as he hears you mention ‘university’, earning a confused glare from you as you take a step closer towards Tommy’s seat at the kitchen table.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” Tommy assured unconvincingly between inhales, “I just don’t think university is the best way for a young woman to spend her time.”

Your face contorts into visual disdain, it’s times like this where you wonder if he’s being obnoxious just to piss you off or if he’s truly just this annoying, “and where exactly do you think a young woman should be spending her time?”

“Women are happiest when they’re kept in their place,” Tommy explained flatly as he takes a drag of his cigarette, “doing housework in the day, and in bed taking her husband’s cock at night.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his ignorant and blatantly misogynistic remarks, what kind of women has Tommy been around for him to genuinely believe this?

“I’m not sure what kind of ladies you’ve been seeing, Tommy, but most women I know have dreams, ambitions, goals,” you retort as you take another step closer towards Tommy with a foreign sense of confidence, “and they desire much more in life than being just some man’s personal come dump.”

He chuckles while putting out his cigarette, proceeding to stand to his feet and slowly make his way over to you,

“Thats what you all think,” Tommy states lowly as he walks closer and closer, “that you’re special and different, but really, you’re all the same. Once you get fucked so good you’re seeing stars, all those little dreams go out the window.”

You step backwards ploddingly as your cheeks burn, not knowing how to respond to Tommy’s crude comment. Suddenly, his face is mere inches away from yours.

“And judging by your little proclamation,” Tommy’s gaze drifts to your soft lips before locking eyes with you again, “you haven’t experienced that, love.”

You couldn’t define what you were feeling, frustration? Exhaustion? Arousal? Your body buzzed with inscrutable energy, and the rational part of your brain attempted to take over and de escalate the situation.

“I-I should just go to bed, Tommy …” you whine weakly as your eyes nervously dart around, suddenly finding Tommy’s stare and demeanour incredibly overwhelming. His dominance mixed with the masculine scent of whisky and tobacco made your heart flutter.

“Why don’t you just see what it’s like, hm?” Tommy purrs as he places his hands on your hips, you suck in a quick surprised breath- but you don’t push him away, “to get fucked so good you forget your own name …”

You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that it had been so long since you’d been properly touched, or because part of you had some sort of attraction toward Tommy, but you found yourself wanting more.

Tommy notices your hesitance and tries to warm you up the best way he knows how by placing gentle kisses on your neck, causing your mouth to drop open with a small gasp. He smirks when you react exactly how he was expecting you to. As he continues to kiss, his left hand snakes down your back and grips your ass.

“What if Ada hears …” you whine back, feeling pitiful at how easily you gave into his advances. Tommy hums against your neck before pulling his head out and easing his hand up to the small of your back.

“She’s a heavy sleeper, we’ll be fine,” Tommy breathed as he feels his straining cock twitch in his pants. With his hands on your hips, he turns you around so your back is flush against the front of his body.

“Hold on to the counter,” Tommy coos into your ear as he grabs your wrist with his strong hands and placed them onto the counter in front of you, “and keep your mouth shut.”

You anxiously grip the counter, involuntarily noticing your equally high levels of lust and consternation. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth when you feel Tommy’s hands begin to bunch up the back of your dress, appreciating the view of your ass with a low grunt. With his free hand, he hooks his finger into your panties and tugs them to the side, uncovering your holes for him.

Using the same hand, he runs his middle and ring finger between your folds while you already start to struggle staying quiet, he chuckles breathily as he feels your arousal spill onto his fingers.

“Do you always get this wet when men force themselves onto you?” Tommy groans as his fingers slide up towards your clit, rubbing small circles onto the sensitive nub from behind. Instead of answering, you can only moan for him while your core burns hotter with desire.

“Poor girl, so eager for cock she can’t even talk,”

With his hips pressed against your ass, he hastily yanks his pants down to free his member, it’s heat laying tantalizingly against your cheek. He grasps the base of his length and aligns it with your opening, forcing himself inside with one abrupt thrust.

You yelp unexpectedly at the fullness before biting your lip again, mumbling a few apologies as Tommy keeps his cock deep inside you before pulling out and slamming back into you.

With each thrust, the ability to stay quiet is growing more difficult. You continue to bite your lip so hard it may draw blood, but breathy whimpers still get punched out despite your best efforts.

“O-oh, fuck-“ you moan as you feel Tommy’s balls brush against your clit with every pump, taunting you with potential friction against your most intimate area.

Tommy changes his angle and slams into your spot head on with seasoned accuracy- clearly his various encounters with women have paid off.

“A-ah!” You sob loudly while your legs shake beneath you, nearly giving out if you weren’t currently white knuckling the countertop. Tommy groans against your neck, his hot breath sending chills down your spine.

“Quiet down, love,” Tommy growls into your ear as he clasps his hand over your mouth, his thrusts becoming deeper and more precise, “we wouldn’t want Ada hearing you.”

With a heavy hand silencing you, Tommy makes his thrusts harsher, almost painfully smashing into your cervix. He mumbles a few praises about how wet you are and how good you feel, your body buzzing from the approbation.

In the midst of ruining you, his hand slips away from your mouth and your needy whimpers can be heard along with Tommy’s heavy breaths. Not loud enough to disrupt Ada, but loud enough to be heard by anyone who could pass by the kitchen. The adrenaline and eroticism causes that intoxicating pressure to begin to build up inside you.

“What would she think, huh?” Tommy teases with a low groan, “seeing her astute friend become a filthy little dumb whore all for her big brother …”

“F-fuck-“ you cry out breathlessly as your sopping cunt flutters around his length, “‘s huge-“

Tommy laughs thinly while slamming into you, “too big for you, sweetheart? Can you feel it stretching out your cunt?”

“Y-yes, fuck-k!”

“(Y/N)?” Ada calls out tiredly from her room, “are you okay?”

Tommy halts his movements inside you, his tip pressing firmly against your spot. You let out a shaky pant before turning around slightly to peak at Tommy. He stares back at you with a cocked brow, silently commanding you to respond to her.

“I’m f-fine, sorry, just bumped my h-hip …” you stammer weakly, barely being able to think of an explanation let alone form a proper sentence while Tommy’s cock is still splitting you open.

Ada’s too tired to pry further, so she just takes you word for it. Once he knows the coast is clear, he slowly builds his thrusts up to that same deep, harsh pace.

“Only thing I told you to do was stay quiet, and you couldn’t even fuckin’ do that, have I fucked you stupid already?” Tommy scolds angrily as he locks a hand into your hair and yanks your head back towards him, the sting of the pull only pushing you closer to your orgasm.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, the humiliation makes your cunt clench and weep around him greedily, your toes curling as your back arches against him.

“Maybe we should spend more time together, hm?” Tommy decides as he nips your earlobe from behind, licking the shell of your ear soon after, “you get to bitch and moan about how ambitious women are, and then I get to watch you go brainless on my cock. How’s that sound?”

You nod and whimper even though you’re ironically barely processing what he’s saying. Tommy can tell how wrecked you’ve become, and he doesn’t hesitate to relish in it.

“You were much too pretty for a career, anyway,” Tommy insisted as he felt his own orgasm begin to coil up inside him while his grasp on your scalp tightens, “the way your cunts gripping me right now … I think you were crafted for this, love …”

Your senses are overloaded with pleasure and you’re convinced you’ve never been fucked this good before. Sadly, just as Tommy expected.

“C-close,” you stutter as you feel yourself begin to tip over the edge while squeezing your eyes shut tightly. Tommy chuckles and continues the same pace, sneaking one of his hands to the front of your body and placing the pads of his fingers directly onto your clit. Not rubbing, just leaving his digits there with firm warm pressure.

“That’s it, don’t think. Just drench my cock, baby,” Tommy growls as he feels your channel flutter around him. And with a few more pumps, you’re coming around his length. You nearly shout out before Tommy covered your mouth again, not wanting to give Ada a reason to get up and check what was going on herself.

After seeing and feeling your orgasm take over you, Tommy feels the pressure within him begin to burst. And just at the last second, Tommy slides his length out and shoots ropes onto you ass, making sure to not get any on your dress. He can be a gentleman, sometimes.

Once you’ve both ridden out your highs, only then does Tommy release his grip on your hair, both of your bodies achy and sweaty with exertion. He backs himself up and tucks his softening cock back into his pants.

Shakily, you turn around to face him, earning a genuine smile from him as he sees your post-orgasm fucked out expression. Cheeks flushed and eyes still glossy, he could get used to seeing this.

“How about we have another talk in the morning?” Tommy asks in a tone that you can’t exactly read, but judging by his expression and body language- you believe he’s being authentic. And you couldn’t lie, the thought of another ‘talk’ with Tommy is dangerously tempting.

—

I hope I did this justice <\3 as much as I love dumbification I feel like I can’t write it properly :( I’m going to keep trying !! because if I’m anything it’s persistent lmao

[evansbby]

an update from me :)

hey everyone, i know i haven’t been very active on here lately. and the reason is because a lot of things in my life have changed. i’ve been debating even sharing this but i feel like i’m in a good enough position to be okay with sharing it.

so these past two years, i had been super active on here (late 2022- early 24) and that was because, well, I didn’t really have anything else. that’s because I had graduated in 2022 and then i just couldn’t find a job in my field. like so many other recent graduates, it was just so hard and tough and it really made me lose all faith in myself.

i found myself to be in the worst mental state i had ever been. I cut myself off from my friends, felt like a burden towards my family, was having meltdowns and panic attacks almost daily, even started eating unhealthily and was just overall in a very bad place.

HOWEVER, i always felt like I could come on tumblr and that’s why i was so active and writing all these stories because honestly, they were almost like a crutch to me. like the ONE thing i had to look forward to in life during those times was the feedback I’d get when i posted a fic, and honestly it’s what kept me going. like i swear to god, on some days this blog and community was the only thing that i had to look forward to and keep me going, and writing felt like such a huge escape.

because i felt so USELESS. like i was wasting my life and not making any money or being able to kickstart my career after uni, and that it would be like this forever, so when I was writing it actually felt like I was doing something with a purpose. honestly on some days I would literally wake up early and go sit in Starbucks all day just writing my fics like i was cosplaying working or something just so I’d have a purpose. (I don’t go to Starbucks anymore lol boycott)

anyways, i never shared this on tumblr these past few years bc you guys don’t understand what a failure i felt like. i would sometimes get asks on here asking what i did for a job and I’d feel so embarrassed of my current state of being unable to find a job when it felt like everyone else who had graduated with me had one and obtained one so easily. like i felt ASHAMED.

i remember once i got an ask asking what my job was and I just said “fashion marketing” bc that was one of the things i wanted to do and id done an internship in that field so i just put that but it was a LIE i was unemployed and the most depressed ive been in my whole life but I thought maybe i could manifest it.

ANYWAYS, and you’ve probably already guessed it, but the reason I’m not so active anymore is because I did eventually find a job. a really good one that I’m enjoying so much and I’m so happy at. Finally, I’m feeling like myself again, like I’m living that life in London as a twenty something that I’d see everyone on tiktok living!! Like I’m finally just having fun, going out with friends, being active, having money to spend on fun things etc.

and it feels so surreal and crazy because when i was depressed and jobless, it made me doubt myself so much. Like the constant rejections and failed interviews made me doubt myself and lowered my self esteem so much and I thought I’d NEVER achieve this life that i have now! And I don’t want to jinx it but I literally thank God every day for finally granting me this because I really feel like I would’ve gotten worse and worse and IDEK.

But back to the main point, and so because of my new job I just don’t have that much time for tumblr anymore. But this isn’t a goodbye post… not at all! I find that when I’m super busy in life is also when I get the most motivated to write! Like for example in summer 2022 I was on here so much and that was the summer I had the most fun, was the most busy. I think when I’m busy in life, I get motivated to write.

Which I believe is the case right now, because I’m SO motivated to complete all my stories, I keep thinking about them and writing them slowly, so please don’t think anything is abandoned! I just wanted to make this post to be more transparent about what’s been going on in my life and what had been going on these past two years. That maybe someone else going through something similar can see that eventually, everything does work out.

Anddd I don’t really know how to end this. I just want to say, yall don’t understand just how thankful I am for having this blog, this platform, to write my stories. For having you guys. Because who knows how much worse my mental state would’ve been these past two years when I didn’t have ANYTHING else going for me, if I hadn’t had this blog it would’ve been so much worse.

Thank you so much for believing in me and enjoying my stories and always always letting me know how much you enjoy them. And I’ll say the truth; I know everyone says that engagement on tumblr has been bad lately but I can say that bc of you guys I have literally never EVER had this issue. And that’s not me being big headed, that’s just the truth and it makes me so happy and grateful. Yall always came through for me and still do now! Every time I think my fic is going to flop, you guys come through for me. I appreciate it so much. You guys have no idea how much you helped me when I was at my lowest. And continue to.

Many thanks

Me 🩷🩷🫶🏼🫶🏼

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part seven)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, pedro (srry he's a big part of this chapter)

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: hi everyone! I literally just posted saying idk when I would update again but I decided to look through what I had written for this part and give it to y'all. she's a short one but it's cute. somewhat proof read lol. enjoy <3

part seven: closing chapters

You’ve been back in Los Angeles for less than a day and you already missed the simplicity of being with Hugh. Los Angeles was reality and it was an ugly one. All of the responsibilities came tumbling down on you and you felt like you were stuck in an inescapable maze. As much as you wanted to stay hidden, tucked under Hugh’s protective arm forever, you had to be an adult about this. You needed to stop ignoring Ashley and talk things out with her. You also needed to talk to Pedro and close that chapter that had been left wide open. Your personal life couldn’t have picked a worse time to get interesting. Tour started in two weeks, leaving very little time to tie all loose ends before traveling the world.

When you landed this morning, you ate a quick breakfast from a small cafe and went straight to rehearsals. They ran longer today to make up for the few days you were gone but you didn’t mind. Being on stage and performing the music you worked so hard on always upped your mood, even if you were unbelievably tired at the end of the day. At the moment, you were laying in bed, trying your best to stay awake while you waited for Hugh to call. He texted you a few hours earlier saying he spent the day with his kids and talked to them about the relationship you two had built over the questionable short period of time. He didn’t go into any further detail but promised to call as soon as he got home and settled. It was a little past 10pm, making it 1am in New York. Just as you were beginning to lose hope in Hugh’s late night call, your phone lit up with Hugh’s contact. 

“Hi Hugh.” You say sweetly into the speaker, sleepiness evident in your voice. “Hi, baby. Were you sleeping?” The deep accent you adored so much rumbled through the phone. “No, I was just laying down. How are you? How was your day?” As you speak, you move to sit up, your back resting against the headboard. “My day was good. It was nice to spend some time with the kids and catch up. We did a puzzle and talked, it was a nice day. How was your day, baby?” 

“It was good, busy. Basically hopped off the plan straight into rehearsals.” You let out an airy laugh. “I’m sorry sweet girl, I should let you get some sleep.” His voice trails off at the end and you know he genuinely feels bad for calling so late. “No, no…it’s fine. I want to talk to you. I don’t start as early tomorrow so I have some time to sleep in.” You assure him. “Are you sure baby? We can always talk tomorrow.” “I’m sure.” You let out a small yawn and Hugh chuckles.  “Hm, if you say so.” 

“Whatever..” You say playfully. The line goes quiet for a moment, neither of you speaking. “So uh…you told your kids about us?” 

You wanted to ease into asking but you were dying to know. Thay had been the number one reason you’d been so hesitant to take on a relationship with Hugh and you know their opinion means something to him too. If they didn’t approve or had any distaste towards your pairing, you weren’t sure if you could be with Hugh without having a heavy layer of guilt strapped to your heart. 

“Oh yea, I told them.” 

His response makes your heart skip a beat. Hugh was never one to beat around the bush but he was dragging this out and it scared you. 

“And what did they say?” 

Hugh takes a sharp breath in and your heart falls into your stomach. They don’t approve, you can sense the words about to tumble out of his mouth. 

“They’re fine with it.” 

His short answers are beginning to irritate you a little bit. You needed to know every detail of their conversation, you wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. 

“Hugh, can you please just tell me everything? Your lack of words is driving me insane.” You draw out the end of the last word, showing him just how frustrated you are. 

“I’m sorry baby, there's not much to tell. My daughter is a fan and begged me to introduce you two and um…well my son…he uh..this is so fucking awkward…” He huffs. “What did he say? I’m sure it can’t be that bad if they’re fine with everything right? Just spit it out, I can take it.” He sighs. “My son has a crush on you.” 

“Oh!” You can feel your body heat up underneath your duvet. “That uh…that is kinda awkward. What did he say about us being together then?” 

“He said something about how he doesn't understand how I was able to ‘bag a baddie’ like you, whatever that means.” You laugh at that. “He’s not mad, just jealous I guess. I’m really gonna have to keep an eye out for him when you meet them. I trust him, he’s my son, but I’m not gonna stand for his eyes wandering on my girl.”

You laugh again, partially because of his words and partially because of how wild this entire conversation is. 

“Well I’d love to meet your daughter and she’s free to come to any show she wants, I'll get her in. Same goes for your son as well, if that’s okay with you. I don’t want you to get too jealous and cause a fight between you two.” You giggle through the last few words. 

“Yea yea, we’ll see.” 

The line goes quiet again, a comfortable silence. 

“Hugh, I have a question.” “Shoot baby.” You can hear the sleepiness starting to appear in his voice. “I was wondering if you’d be okay with me going to talk to Pedro soon?” You hear rustling on his end before he speaks again. “Why do you want to do that?” There’s a slight hint of anger in his tone but you know it’s not towards you but towards how Pedro treated you. “I really need to talk things out with him. As much as I'm over him, there’s still a little part of me that needs closure, that needs to ask questions. I want this part of my life to be done but I need to have it properly sealed off.” “Could you wait until I’m back in town? I trust you but I don’t trust him one bit.” You smile at his protectiveness. “I really want to fix everything before the tour starts. I need to talk to Ashley too and the sooner I can get over this, the sooner I can put all my focus on the tour and you. So unless you’re planning on being back in town in a week, I need to do this alone. Is that okay?” He sighs and takes a moment. “Of course that’s fine baby. Just keep me updated on everything that happens.” “I will.” The two of you talk for 20 more minutes before you both call it a night, ending the call with “I love you”. 

The next morning, you immediately texted Hugh before rolling out of bed and starting your day. You showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. You opted for a lazy breakfast, too tired to do anything else. You popped a bagel into the toaster and fried an egg, laying a slice of cheese on top to melt. You made your little bagel breakfast sandwich and washed a few berries to go with it. 

While you ate, you scrolled through your phone. Hugh hasn't texted you back yet but it didn't surprise you. He was up late and with his age, he needed his sleep. You smiled to yourself as you thought about how peaceful he looks while he’s deep in sleep. While scrolling through instagram, you get an ad for Gladiator II. Your ex’s stupid hot face was plastered on your phone. You sighed and pulled up his contact. You were grateful you deleted the text thread you once had, you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing all of the previous sweet words he used to send you. 

You: hey p, it’s y/n. I was wondering if we could meet up soon and talk? no pressure :) 

Once you hit send, you locked your phone and slid it across your kitchen table. Your phone buzzed a few seconds later and your heart started beating faster…there’s no way he could have already responded. You reached for your phone, having to lift out of your chair slightly. When your phone unlocks, your heart slows down, it’s just Hugh. 

You texted back and forth with Hugh all morning until you pulled up to the Kia Forum. Tour was officially a week away from starting which meant you got to rehearse in the venue that would be starting the tour off. You’d been in the Forum a few times for various concerts but being here for your own performance was a different animal. Knowing that this place was sold out for you was wild. You caught up with all of your dancers, them sharing the same excitement. The energy in the building was electric. The crew was excited to get their creations in full and everyone was just happy to finally be starting. 

With being in a new space, the start of rehearsal was a bit slow. Lights, sounds, and various other things had to be adjusted now that everything was in full. You didn’t mind though. It gives you a chance to slow down and appreciate how far you’ve come. It was lunchtime and you decided to hide away in your dressing room to eat. A few people offered you to come with them but you really needed a moment to yourself. You were overwhelmed but in a good way. You grabbed some food from the catering someone had ordered, you made a note to yourself to find out who it was and thank them. 

Once you got to your dressing room, you pulled your phone out of your purse and scrolled through your notification log. Hugh’s messages were the first thing you saw. You were responding to everything he had sent when another message popped up at the top of your phone. 

pedro: hey y/n. I’m free today if you wanna swing by sometime? 

You pulled up to the familiar gates and typed in the code that was still etched in your brain. Once you parked your car in the semi circle driveway, you texted Pedro that you were here before taking a deep breath and stepping out of your car. It always looked out of place next to the large home, even more now that you didn’t belong here the way you once had. One of the brown French style doors open just as you're walking up the three concrete steps that lead to the entrance. You look up from your shoes. Locking eyes with Pedro, you feel your heart tense up. The pain of losing the man you had felt so deeply for re-entered your body involuntarily. He was wearing his typical casual attire: a pair of black cotton shorts, his beloved yellow lakers tee, and a pair of long black socks. The slight gray in his hair had begun to spread, the sides of his beard almost losing all color. He looked as handsome as ever. He held the door open with one arm, leaning slightly. A small smile rested on his face and his brown puppy dog eyes gave you the same feeling they had when you had first met him. 

“Hi y/n.” His voice sounded almost hesitant. “Hi P…Thanks for having me.” He backs up to let you inside. You slip your shoes off, like you had many times before. “No problem. I’m kinda surprised you wanted to talk to me, thought you would’ve been done with me after…well you know.” You don’t answer, instead you walk towards his living room and plop yourself down in the spot you had claimed many months ago, Pedro taking his own claimed spot not too far from yours. “It’s weird seeing you there again…missed seeing you here.” You sigh. “Pedro…don’t say that.” “Why not?” “You don’t get to miss me when you’re the one that left me. You hurt me P. Not the other way around.” He scoffs. “Sure didn’t seem too hurt to me. You moved on just fine.” “Can you stop being an asshole for two fucking seconds?” 

You wanted to come into this with patience and maturity but Pedro was making that impossible. He was being completely insufferable and had been since the moment he broke up with you, like it was somehow your fault. You missed the kind Pedro, the one you had fallen for. 

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? It took a month before you fell into someone else's arms, no let me clarify, my friend’s arms.” You could tell he was trying to get under your skin and you didn’t know where he gained this hatred for you. His voice was sour, a scowl present on his face. 

“God Pedro…” You sigh in anger. “Yes I invited him to the album party but he was there for me when you sat there and yelled- no embarrassed me at my own event. You don’t get to play victim in this situation. We weren’t together and hadn’t been together for weeks by the time I met him.” You could tell you were beginning to lose control over your emotions. The anger and pain both battled reaching for your throat begging to take control over your next words. 

His eyes go soft as he starts to speak again. “Y/n…I’m sorry about that, I was drunk and I-” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You know what? Fuck you Pedro. Truly. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. You broke up with me because the pressure was too hard on you. You come to my event and try to grab me, then you yell at me because Hugh came to check on me. Now you’re mad that I found someone that actually gives two shits about me, that isn’t afraid to deal with whatever comes with dating a younger girl? I’m over it.” You laugh again. “And now you want to apologize for that night when you’ve been nothing but rude since I sat on this couch? I came here for closure, nothing more. I liked you Pedro. I really really like you and you crushed my heart that night and every time I’ve seen you after. I don’t understand what I did to deserve this hatred that you’ve been throwing at me but it’s not fair.” 

Your anger had won the battle but your sadness would win the war. Your voice broke on your last words, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. 

“It’s not fucking fair P…” 

You tuck your face into your sweatshirt, allowing yourself to cry in peace. Pedro doesn’t speak and the silence lasts for what feels like forever. You could feel a slight movement on the couch, then two warm arms wrap around your shoulder, a chin resting atop your head. The two of you stay like that for a while. You let your tears flood your cheeks until there aren’t any left. 

“I’m so sorry babygirl. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” 

You slowly pull your face out of the sweater. One of Pedro’s arms drops to rest on his leg, the other lay across your shoulders still. His water line was filled with his own tears, eyes red. 

“Then why did you?” He takes a moment to think and pulls you into his chest. Your head resting right above his heart, the beat a little faster than the one you had memorized. 

“Shit y/n…I know no matter how I say this, it’s gonna sound fucked up.” He squeezes his arms gently. “I was so scared, baby. When everyone started to form their opinions on us and kept pinning me to be some weirdo, I freaked out. I’m at the height of my career and I couldn’t imagine losing that…and you were right, I'm selfish. When I let you go, I immediately regretted it. I showed up to your party wanting to apologize. I had a few drinks, some liquid courage if you will, but damn baby, those fruity little drinks were a lot stronger than I thought they’d be.” You chuckle at the comment. “I was waisted by the time I saw you and when…Hu-...when he came to defend you, I lost my shit. I was so pissed off. Even in the state I was in, the look in his eyes was loud. He looked at you with so much adoration and I knew I’d already lost you.” 

He pauses. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for myself, I just..I just want you to- no, I need you to know what happened. I’m sorry for being an ass today too. I guess I’m not over you and it hurts that you’re over me.” 

You look up at him. 

“I’m not trying to be mean when I say this P but it’s your fault. I could’ve loved you….I was falling in love with you. My time with you was special, so different than anything I’d ever felt before. I think we would’ve been good together. If you would have talked to me, maybe things would be different. You should have talked to me.” 

“We could’ve been the greatest?” He gives a lazy smile down to you and you look down in shame, wincing slightly. “You watched it?” You ask quietly. “Yea I did.” He pauses. “You sounded beautiful up there, you’re so talented y/n…even if it was so clearly targeted towards me.” The arm that's wrapped around your shoulder moves, his hand resting on your head now, moving in slow circles. 

“Would you ever give us another chance?” He asks, looking down at you. The hope in his eyes pains you. 

“I love him P…” You see the small glimmer of happiness drain from his face. You were feeling just as hurt, knowing that if Hugh hadn’t entered your life when he did or if you had talked to Pedro sooner, you’d give him another chance without a second thought. 

“Does he treat you good?” You almost scoff at the question, given who’s asking, but you don’t have the heart to be mean to him anymore. “Yea he does…” You smile at the thought of just how well Hugh does treat you. “Well, then I’m happy for you.” 

“Are you really or are you just trying to be nice?” You joke and he shrugs. “The latter but truthfully if you were going to be with anyone other than myself, I’m glad it’s him. He’s good.” He smiles down at you and it almost reaches his eyes. “Speaking of Hugh…you kinda owe him an apology, mister.” You poke at the side of his chest that you’re not leaning on. “For what? Stealing my girl?” His words make your tummy stir. “I wasn’t your girl anymore. You called him old and yelled at him. He’s your friend, so apologize.” 

“He is old.” You punch his arm and give him a look. “Ow..fuck. Fine, I’ll apologize but I’m not sure how buddy buddy I can be with him anymore.” “I don’t really care about that, as long as you’re nice to him.” 

He doesn’t respond. You spend a few minutes feeling the warmth of his embrace, it was something you were going to miss. As much as you loved Hugh, Pedro had been someone special to you and it hurt to let him go, even with what he put you through. 

“How much longer do my pictures have on your instagram before I’m replaced by Hugh?” He jokes and your eyes go wide. “Oh fuck me…” You had completely forgotten about the pictures that littered your page. “I will.” He smirks. “Shut the fuck up. I’m deleting them in front of your face just for saying that.” You whip out your phone. There are a few texts from Hugh on the homescreen asking how it’s going. “I’m surprised your guard dog let you come alone.” “Oh believe me, he didn’t want me to but he’s in New York and couldn’t stop me.” You open instagram. “And for that comment, I'm making you press delete on these. You can feel the finalization of us being over. Consider it punishment for being such a dick.”  He laughed and pressed delete on the first one. 

In the third picture, you started to regret this ‘punishment’. “We were a cute couple. You remember that one? That’s when you came over and we fucked like rabbits all week-” “Okay your done. Give me my phone.” You shove him away after and he lets out a deep belly laugh. The sound made you pause for a moment. This was the Pedro you had enjoyed being around. It was always so easy to joke around with him and be yourself. You would miss him. 

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[shahaddahlan0]

"About some dreams that faded!!"

From the peak of strength to the depths of despair. I once built bodies, now I'm lost, hungry, homeless and searching for a handful of safety… but my spirit still fights. !!

My name is Shahad Dahlan, I am thirty years old, married to the kindest and most beautiful person in the world, my love “Hassan”, and on the twenty-third of next November we will have spent the most beautiful ten years together, full of love, loyalty and sacrifice. I will say that we “used to” live in our small house in a small village called Al-Qarara. This area is located between the city of Khan Yunis and Deir al-Balah, in the middle opposite what is known as the cursed Kissufim checkpoint. But now we are trying to stand firm between its destroyed walls and the surrounding rubble, but it’s okay, we are still alive and there is still hope.

My husband and I had a beautiful love story. We loved each other sincerely, and that always gave me a sense of comfort and security. Finding the right partner for your life is a rare and precious thing. We’re close in age he’s 34, and I’m only a few years younger.

We don’t have children yet, but there’s a story I find strange that happened precisely around this time last year. I shared it with one of the previous updates alone, as it deserves its own story.

Despite our differences in some hobbies, we were very compatible. Even those around us said we looked alike! Haha.

I’m a naturally moody and energetic person, and I love life in all its details. What captivated me most was the morning; I loved it in all seasons. I loved waking up to the sound of birdsong and contemplating the sky when it was blue, dotted with piles of white clouds that looked like pieces of cotton. It made me feel like my day would be full of energy, full of the beautiful things I love, and full of life.

I had a great time, reading, singing sometimes, and playing my simple guitar, which I’d learned to play on YouTube. I wasn’t a professional, but I enjoyed it when I was bored. I also always listened to music, and I loved it loud and clear! I loved pop music, and I had a complete sound system in every corner of the living room. Music, for me, wasn’t just a hobby; it was essential, as if it ran through my blood! Like something administered intravenously! Hahaha.

I spent most of my day alone, which wasn’t a bad thing at all; I saw it as a valuable time to myself. My husband worked in interior design and decoration, which he had always been creative at. I don’t deny his amazing talent.

He would go out every day from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m.

As for me, six years earlier, I had finished my university studies in physical education and sports. My plan that kept coming to mind after university was to go to Egypt and pursue postgraduate studies, perhaps even a PhD in physical education. You never know, maybe I would have achieved something big in the future.

After completing university, as you know, employment opportunities in Gaza are extremely scarce, but I didn’t sit idly by.

I participated in numerous courses in my field, such as gymnastics and karate. I hated only one thing: swimming, to the point that I failed the swimming subject twice. I would pass the theoretical part and fail the practical part, Lol.

I joined various teams: baseball and volleyball. A group of my classmates and I were nominated to the Sports Academy and the Palestinian Volleyball Federation to referee volleyball after participating in specialized refereeing courses. We participated in events and matches held at the schools and universitys levels.

I worked part-time in several clubs and gyms, and I was also employed on a monthly contract within UNRWA programs at children’s summer camps. I also received numerous certificates, awards, medals, and shields.

You may be surprised when I tell you that I worked in a field completely different from my specialty “three years before the war.” I was hired to write content, edit, and publish. Yes, although this wasn’t my specialty, I enrolled in several writing and freelance courses and passed the job test and interview. I knew I had a talent for writing content and expressing myself.

When I received the email informing me that I had been accepted for the job, I felt as if I owned the whole world! It was a precious and unforgettable moment. I worked in this field for more than two years, rotating between writing scientific content, international news, and sports, in addition to editing. I then obtained proofreading and publishing licenses. I felt as if I was advancing step by step, as if I was being promoted!

Although my work was partly in the office, I completed it from home, sitting for hours in front of my personal computer. I never felt bored. I would put on my headphones, turn up the music, and start writing. For me, there is no accomplishment without music. That’s who I am.

This was my favorite job, and the last one I had before the war. I will never forget the office where I worked, or rather belonged to. It was called “palteam.” I had a wonderful time there, learned a lot, and enjoyed the company of my colleagues. It was an enriching job in every sense of the word, in addition to providing me with a good income.

But the war came and changed everything. That world became a thing of the past, perhaps even impossible.

I don’t know, my friend…

Yes, I had many hobbies that I wished to pursue freely, and dreams that I was waiting for to come true, or at least to be fulfilled. But Gaza wasn’t the most suitable place for them. I don’t know if it was the occupation that tries to rob us of even the air we breathe, or the restrictions imposed by customs, traditions, and religion.

I won’t hide the truth: I don’t abide by these restrictions much, especially when it comes to my life and hobbies. I’ve always given myself the right to live as I please, to experience life as I see it, especially since I’m still in the prime of my youth.

I love skating. I learned it from a young age. My mother made sure to provide me and my brother, who is a year younger than me, with skates. It’s been our favorite sport since we were little. I usually love all kinds of sports, anything that involves movement and excitement. Even my mind is full of thoughts. That’s why I think I might suffer from Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) in some way! I love cycling and have participated in many races here in Gaza. They used to organize an annual youth marathon, along with many other events recently, all held on Rashid Street in the port area.

There were a large number of young men and women participating together… We had begun to live, breathe, and dream.

But it seems the occupier doesn’t even want us to breathe. !! 💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters , ( #502 ) & @bilal-salah0

GAZA 🇵🇸🍉🌿

[celestie0]

hi friends, i won’t be posting or updating any of my works for an indefinite period n will be on hiatus from this blog as well.

i’ve unlisted kickoff & ihm on ao3 (haven’t deleted, they’ve just been made private) and i’ve unpinned my masterlist here on tumblr (again nothing’s been deleted so you could probably find the chapters if you searched my tags)

but the reason i did that is because i don’t want any new readers finding my works during my hiatus because i don’t want to potentially upset more people in the event that, during this hiatus, i decide that i would no longer like to write my fics

that would be an insanely sad decision to make. i put so much thought into my stories not because i am trying to make them entertaining, but it’s because they genuinely mean so much to me and are cathartic in ways i can’t describe. i have spent a great majority of my life self negating for the sake of others, and so writing was just a form of expression where i could talk about all the things i’ve suppressed over the years - anxiety, career stress, financial stress, avoidance, depression, loss, coming of age, navigating love, etc

but lately, and i do think it’s been a build up of just some careless words from a handful of people over the months, i find myself steering towards a practice of writing that is no longer asking the question “how can i put as much of myself in this piece as possible?” but rather “how can i make sure people won’t criticize this…i feel awful that it doesn’t have what they want it to have…other creators are doing xyz, should i be doing that too?…i’m just scared to share this”

not exactly sure when that shift in headspace began, but as of right now, it’s as strong as ever. and i understand that those questions may seem irrational, and i just have to try to not focus on the feeling, n i wish i was someone that could compartmentalize those thoughts better, but here’s the thing — the whole reason i started expressing myself through writing in the first place was because i’ve spent my whole life compartmentalizing. it would feel so ironic & untrue to the lessons i’ve learned in this journey if i just chose to “suck this up” and continue pushing forward until i reach a point of burnout simply because i don’t want to upset anyone

i’m really sorry i couldn’t focus on the positive. especially with all the insane n incredible amount of love n support i’ve received for my works. i’ve said this time n time again but when i started posting kickoff to ao3 back in january of this year, i had NO idea it would be this loved by so many people…i was like ok can’t wait to interact w these four readers for the rest of the year…and then BAM, i find myself fully sobbing after each chapter update because i was so touched by all the sweet n kind words. i don’t want this decision to come off in a way that makes it seems like i don’t love u guys sm or that i’m ungrateful — i’ve always taken pride in respecting my audience. even for a simple hobby, i try to put effort into my works. i proofread, i plan out, i edit in length, all because i am, well, for one, i’m a bit of a perfectionist LOL but also i think there’s a great deal of honor in respecting an audience that gives you their time n attention

but i already am struggling in my life to focus on the positive. medicine has been such an incredibly daunting career to pursue, i’m honestly only doing slightly better now because i’m just filled with relief that i got into med school to begin with lol it’s still surreal to me, so the stress has been kinda manageable so far on that sense of optimism, but dear god the shit i went through to get here…and the shit i know i still face ahead of me. i spend all of my serotonin on trying to stay positive in the face of my responsibilities. so all of this time i’ve spent trying to stay positive for the sake of my stories too has just left me with so much exhaustion — i just don’t see why posting my works should be anything less than fun and endlessly exciting when it’s a hobby that’s supposed to help me thru the actual brunt of life.

anyways, i’m getting a little carried away here. all this to say, i just need to take time away from posting my works so i can see writing as something for myself n not for others again. i don’t want the thoughts swimming in my head to be thoughts of anxiety over people potentially criticizing me n my creative decisions. i want the thoughts in my head to once again be positive, excited, and nurturing towards my stories. i don’t see how i can accomplish that at this point unless i start writing for myself once more, and not for others

i still have a great deal of passion to write, which is why i haven’t formally taken down my works. i anticipate that i may be able to come back in the future to share my writing again. but as of right now, i just want to heal the relationship that i have with this hobby, and i feel like that’s gotta happen in private (lmfao it sounds like im tryna freak my writing)

i’m sorry that i turned off my asks n my replies, i know so many of u care about me n want to support me n i just am beyond thankful. i don’t anticipate this is a forever goodbye, but i do just need some time rn away from all of this.

hope u all have a happy time!! and take care of yourselves :) much love

- ellie

[rebelcracker-s]

yapping about the welcome home 10/18 update because i am so incredibly normal

Hello neighbors! Not exactly my usual content, but since when was I consistent :P I have a lot of thoughts about the new Welcome Home update, so I thought I’d make a post discussing my thoughts n findings, and try to analyze them to make sense of Welcome Home. 

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!

First of all, right off the bat, on the first page of the storybook, you can see this:

All of these dots in white diamonds are meant to represent eyes, like the Looky-Loo branding alludes to. While they’re all mostly looking in different directions, we have these two who are looking right at the reader. I think these are meant to represent Wally’s eyes. Since we know from the hidden audios from the June ‘23 update that Wally can see through every drawing of his eyes, it looks like Wally is watching us or at least W through the storybook. It’s a tiny detail but so creepy nonetheless!

I want to focus on the end of W’s version of the storybook rather than the contents of the storybook, but I loved seeing a story centered around Sally and some depictions of Sally & Poppy’s dynamic! (Also Eddie calling Sally rude—THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING. Based eddie tho LOL) I also loved seeing the neighbors all being so eager to help Poppy, but oh my goodness, the way that they did it… YIKES. Poor Poppy…

It’s so interesting that we’re seeing the characters one by one realize that something is wrong with their neighborhood—first Sally in last year’s Halloween update, then Eddie in the Homewarming update, now Poppy. 

It’s also interesting how Eddie and Poppy’s episodes(?) parallel each other. First of all, they very clearly focus on isolation from the rest of the neighborhood. Eddie loses all perception of the other neighbors, and the “single pea on a plate” represents his isolation from everyone else. Poppy is literally bricked off from the other neighbors, and she can’t hear them and vice versa until she screams and the door is opened.

The second interesting thing is that both of these episodes have Home involved. Eddie gets uncomfortable and immediately finds himself staring down Home even though he’s inside them. Poppy hears knocks, doors opening, and doorknobs turning—all of which are methods Home uses to communicate. I don’t know if Home is meant to be a metaphor for isolation or a genuine antagonistic force trying to corner the characters when they’re alone and at their weakest. Maybe both? 

Still, I was considering that the character who scares Poppy at the end of the storybook audio could also be one and the same with the “monster” (in quotations because it’s unclear whether this is an actual monster) Sally talked about in last year’s Halloween update. That would create a common thread between the two Halloween updates. Still, I’m not sure what that monster is meant to represent and if it is supposed to mean Home or something related to them, like the weird portal underneath it…

Third, it’s very interesting how the two episodes end. Both Eddie and Poppy are brought out of the episodes by the intervention of the other neighbors. But it’s not just any neighbors—both times, it’s Sally and Frank. Sally is the neighbor who notices something is up with Eddie first; she brings him to the Homewarming party, then pulls Frank over to Eddie at the end of Eddie’s episode. When Poppy’s episode ends, we hear two neighbors asking about her. It’s not explicitly stated whose voices they are in the transcript, but it’s clearly Sally and Frank.

Sally and Frank are a really interesting pair; their canon interactions include them getting into a physical fight over song lyrics. But somehow, we’ve seen them twice breaking up these episodes. They don’t appear to be as close as Frank is with Eddie or as Sally is with Poppy, but it would be a very weird coincidence if this was an accident both times. 

I strongly believe that Sally and Frank are both aware of what’s happening and trying to work together to either gain a bigger understanding of it, protect the other neighbors, etc. (I also have a theory that Howdy is in on it too, but I won’t focus on that right now.) This is why we see them coming to both Eddie and Poppy’s aid after their episodes. 

Another thing!! Connections to other literature seem to be really important in the lore of Welcome Home, so it’s not a throwaway that the play Sally puts on is Tell-Tale Heart. I don’t know a lot about Tell-Tale Heart, but it appears to be about a character who kills a man and buries his still-beating heart under the floorboards, only to be driven mad by the sound. I’m pretty sure we’ve heard Home’s heartbeat before, so I wonder if Tell-Tale Heart is supposed to connect to them… I’ve seen people connect it to Cask of Amontillado, but I’ve never even heard of that so I’ll let other theorists tackle that for now.

On a final note, Wally saying that “everything is as it should be” as the last line of the storybook…completely creeps me out!!!

That’s all for now. I should probably update my other theory soon lol 

[shynetyme06]

Epic and cool Papered Jam reference be upon ye (og PJ by @7goodangel)

YA so this is that PJ variant I’ve posted a couple times and made that dtiys for, and yes the mc just stands for main character. I’ve called them mc pj as a placeholder for the longest time cuz I’m slow with names, and so it just ended up sticking for me even after the story was later dubbed PJ’s resolve ;3

Under the cut is an alt ref sheet with updated versions of my other PJ outfits from this post, plus some rambling about the designs lol

Like og PJ, the only non-ink garment she wears is the scarf gifted to her by Ink. But for mc pj, that wasn’t always the case. The outfit you see on the little PJ was also created by him, and they’re hydrophobic clothes meant to help maintain PJ’s form and keep the strings from being exposed. And for the rain boots, I really liked a headcanon I came across that little kid PJ could wear them to keep ink from tracking everywhere (they just gotta be emptied from time to time lol)

Years later, PJ would start to create clothes for herself that look and feel pretty close to what Ink could do, but that’s only as long as she’s in contact with them, because like with pretty much all of her creations, they’ll melt back into ink if left alone for too long. (And for the shedding, rather than tracking ink everywhere she goes she usually just throws away the shoes she wears after a while and then remakes them with newer ink)

The blotch change on the right side of his face is because of error’s tear tracks, I kinda wanted this PJ to take a little bit more after him forrr reasons (would’ve been more obvious if it stayed fully cyan but I colored it before remembering there’s already so much cyan in top half of the design… so now there’s a yellow outline like the pink splotch)

And lastly PJ is about ink’s height at 3’9 :D

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 5

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warnings: canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: lol i updated this. it’s a little bit of a date and a—oh, what’s this—new conflict? hehe. (is this enemies to lovers? it’s a little enemies to lovers.)

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 4

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

You take a few steps past Bucky, turn around, and walk back to the table. You stop right beside Bucky and hold out your hand. Bucky looks at your hand outstretched to him and trails his eyes up to you, and you watch as he carefully searches your face.

“Hi,” you say, smiling. “I’m Y/N. Mind if I join you for dinner?”

Bucky’s face breaks out into a grin as he takes your hand, grasping it firmly as he shakes it. “Bucky,” he greets, playing along. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

—

“So, yeah. Maybe it was mean, but she deserved it,” you say, finishing a story about Ellie stealing your toys and you locking her in your closet for an hour as children. You take a sip of your wine as Bucky lets out a mirthful laugh.

“That’s brutal, Doll,” he teases you with a grin. You shrug.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Mob Boss,” you tease him back. A thoughtful look crosses your face. “By the way, how did you become this kingpin of Brooklyn anyhow?”

Bucky scrunches his nose. “Firstly, let’s avoid the term “kingpin.” Wilson Fisk has taken to the name, and I have no intention of taking that from him. His title and Hell’s Kitchen is his.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, but you nod slowly in understanding. There is, you realize, more politics to the mafia than you’d previously considered.

“But, to answer your question, I was born into it. My father was head of our family and in this business for years, his father years before that. It was always their intention for me to take over when I was old enough, and they, ah, groomed me for the job.”

You frown. “That’s terribly sad.”

Bucky shrugs.

“Did you ever want to be anything different? Like, when you were a kid?”

“No, I never really thought about it.”

“Really?” You challenge. “You never wanted to be an astronaut, or a firefighter, or president? Oh! Or a police officer? That would’ve been ironic!”

Bucky offers you a sad smile but shakes his head. “No, I always wanted to take over for my father. It’s what he wanted, so it’s what I wanted.”

You frown. “You don’t see how sad that is?”

“I do.”

“If you had a child, would you bring them up the same way?” You purse your lips and feel your heart rate quicken. His potential answer scares you (like you might see a future with him? Wait! Stop it!).

“No. Of course not. All of this,” he gestures vaguely, “would be unfair to push onto a child. If I have children, I will make sure they have every opportunity to be whatever they want.”

“Even if it’s a police officer hellbent on taking down the mafia?”

“Even a police officer hellbent on taking down the mafia,” he agrees with a smirk. You giggle.

“What about you?” He asks. “What did you want to be when you were little?”

You feel your cheeks heat up as a blush takes over your face.

“Um,” you stutter. “Promise not to laugh?”

Bucky pulls a face. “Why? Is it embarrassing? Did you want to be a nun? Or did you want to be a super spy who kidnapped the head of the Brooklyn mob?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Okay, fine,” he raises his hands in surrender. “Fine. I promise.”

“I wanted to be…” you trail off, mumbling the end. Bucky leans forward, holding his hand up to his ear.

“What was that? I missed the end there.”

“I wanted to be a princessastronautpresident,” you say quickly this time, letting your words blend together.

“What?” Bucky asks again, but he’s smirking now and you suspect he heard you.

“I wanted to be a princess astronaut president, okay? Happy now?” You ask, reaching for your wine only to find you’d already drank it all. You frown. Bucky laughs.

“That career covers two different forms of government… in space?” He half states, half questions. You simply nod.

“And what about it? At least it’s legal,” you challenge. Again, Bucky’s hands go up next to his head in surrender.

“Well?” He asks.

“‘Well’ what?”

“Did you become a princess astronaut president?”

“No,” you say, dead serious. “I lost the election on Mars. I’m going to try Jupiter next time, though.”

Bucky laughs once more: you note he’s been laughing a lot throughout your date.

“So what do you do?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t know everything about you.”

“I thought you would have looked me up.”

“Maybe you intrigue me enough I want to learn about you naturally.”

“I’m an investigative journalist.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. He looks genuinely surprised.

“Really? That’s all?”

You quirk your head. “Yes?”

“Sorry. I just thought with your… erm—skill set—you were a Green Beret, or something.”

“You flatter me, Barnes, but all I did was hit you really hard in the head with a gun I bought scarily easily at a department store I buy my groceries and drag you to a building that’s been on the market for years. Nothing about that was exactly special ops.”

He hums and finishes his own wine.

“Doesn’t explain your interrogation skills.”

“I’m a journalist. I interview people for a living—particularly people who don’t necessarily want to be interviewed.”

“How’d you know where to find me?”

“I didn’t. You were an accident, remember?”

“You wound me,” he says. You shrug.

“Even so,” he continues, “you knew about my bar. You knew it was connected to the mafia—your sister’s disappearance. How?”

“Is this a date or an interrogation, James?”

“Professional curiosity.”

Irritated, you respond. “Still, I am a journalist. I knew about the connection because I had a good hunch. I’d been working on a piece that led me to the bar; I smelt a connection. Or, I hoped there was one.”

Bucky leans back in his seat, his blue eyes piercing your person. You shift uncomfortably. He seems to accept your response, though, but the subject is far from dropped.

“What’s your piece about?”

“Nothing.”

“Clearly it’s something.”

“You can read all about it when it’s published.”

“Why so defensive? Is it about me?”

“You flatter yourself, Barnes.”

He shrugs. You sigh.

“I received an anonymous tip not too long ago that the mafia was picking up promising prodigy students. 4 or 5 have gone missing in the last 6 months, and my tip told me they may be hanging around your bar.”

Bucky’s face is stoic, and you feel yourself become suspicious of the well dressed, charming criminal in front of you.

“I connected the dots between the situation and the location: the mafia. When Ellie went missing, too? Well, she didn’t quite meet the M.O., sure, but it was all I had to go off of.” You shrug.

“You think I’m kidnapping university students?”

“No, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you… uh. Made them an offer they couldn’t refuse?”

“The Godfather? Really? A little on the nose, no?”

“Look, James. I was doing my job.”

“Where did the tip come from?”

“I don’t know. It was anonymous. Are you done interrogating me now?” Your tone becomes irritable, and you cringe slightly at the bite behind your words.

Bucky sighs, “Yes. Sorry. This evening has been lovely; I’m sorry for ruining it. I’ll take you home?”

You purse your lips and nod.

The two of you stand and gather your belongings before walking back through security where your weapons are returned to you. Bucky then escorts you to the car and drives you home.

After he walks you to the door, Bucky stops and looks at you, hands gently falling to your shoulders.

“Y/N, look. I’m sorry for the first degree; I really did have a good time tonight. I hope you’ll consider doing this again.” Bucky’s voice leaks sincerity, his eyes promise it.

You smile somewhat sadly and it doesn’t reach your eyes. “We’ll see, James.”

He nods. “I understand.” He pulls out a business card with nothing but a phone number on it and hands it to you. “My personal cell,” he explains. “If you reach out, we’ll do this again. If not, I’ll take the hint.”

You nod slightly as he leans forward and pecks your cheek. It’s soft, barely a whisper of a kiss. Then, he turns and returns to his car, driving off. You watch until you can’t see his car anymore. Finally, you turn to your door and fumble around with the key.

You turn the lock and hear your deadbolt unlock right as you hear a whoosh next to your ear, your eyes drift to the side where, stuck in the wood of your doorframe, is an arrow with a note tied to it. Carefully, anxiously, you pull the arrow out and unroll the note. You nearly choke on air when you read it:

I left the tip because Barnes messed with what was mine. Best not get cozy with the beast, sweetheart. I’d hate to think I mistrusted you—underestimated your usefulness.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv @searchn0tfound @10ava01 @ordelixx @pinkpantheris @hi-im-fan-trash @bubblegumbeautyqueen

[cressidagrey]

I found you by accident! And of course I immediately started reading your works. The first thing I read was "Such a Mystery" and then I found Lando and Elizabeth. I fell in love with both stories and read them several times. Currently my obsession is the new story "White horse" I LOVE IT! Every day from the morning I refresh your profile to check if there is a new chapter. when I see that it is my day immediately gets better..

1. I love it when someone new finds out that Max is in a relationship. Pure chaos. Sometimes I get the feeling that Lando will have a heart attack because of it (especially because of dinner 😂)

2. The ring is gorgeous. It suits Belle

3. Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo make me want to punch them in the face

4. I'm trying to gather information from your answers and put them more or less into a whole. But oh my God I feel like it's going to be interesting.

5. Can we expect some bigger drama?

6. Can we know if there's another chapter today?

7. How did you come up with the idea for this story?

8. Are you overwhelmed by the number of people asking for more chapters because they're unsatisfied?

9. I’m sorry for my English, it’s not my first language (Polish is)

Once again I love your writing! Remember you are amazing! Have a nice day!

Ahhh I’m so happy you found me — even if by accident!! 🥹💛 Such a Mystery and The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince hold such a special place in my heart, so hearing that you loved those and are now deep in the White Horse obsession?? Truly the highest compliment!! Thank you so much for being here, and for rereading — I’m so honored 🫶🏻

Now let me go through your amazing list because I LOVE this message:

You’re absolutely right — someone new finding out about Max and Belle every chapter = pure chaos. And yes, Lando is absolutely one dramatic reveal away from passing out in a restaurant 😭🍝

I’m so glad you love the ring!! I imagined something vintage and intricate and very Belle — quiet, timeless elegance.

Charles, Arthur, and Lorenzo... yeah. Fully valid. The rage is earned.

You're gathering clues like a pro 👀 and yes... it's going to get very interesting very soon.

Bigger drama? 👀 Let’s just say... yes.

I never want to make promises about exact updates because life (and law school 😭), but I do try to update as often as I can. If not today, then very soon! ❤️ (I had the chapter nearly finished and then I had another idea and it has now snowballed...once again.)

The idea for White Horse actually started as a one shot of May 2024. So that was the starting point. And then I realise that to give the story the time it deserved, I needed to start much earlier. It was pretty much a thought experiment at one point about how it would be to be a sibling to a famous driver who is the golden child of the family...and the main character just gets pushed to the side. again and again and again.

I’m not overwhelmed — mostly just very grateful 🥹 Sometimes it’s hard or even lightly annoying when people ask for more chapters in a way that feels like pressure, but most of the time, people are so kind and patient, and that makes it all worth it 💛 Though asking me when the next update is, is not gonna make me write faster. Mostly the opposite, because I need to answer that question and I could have written something in the time that took lol.

And please don’t apologize for your English — it’s fantastic and I understood every word perfectly! Dziękuję bardzo (I hope that's correct) for reading and writing to me — it truly means so much 🫶🏻

Sending you the biggest hug!! Can’t wait to share more of Belle and Max’s story with you ❤️✨

[tornoleander]

Finally Ironed out some ninja designs! I Usually don’t share references but with the behind the scenes stuff I’m doing on my Skybound project I don’t have much else I can share yet.

There is a few headcanon/ Fic stuff in references and powers and the all ninja shot is for first part of Skybound project.

I can share Skybound project Updates! I’m making lots of progress! Trying to focus on p1 stuff so I can put full force into the p2 stuff!

|

V

P1 may be ready Summer? 2025

My Skybound talk Video:

* God I have so much to ramble about just when I think I covered something a new angle gets me

* How TF am I supposed to sanely transition from the wholesome reasons I love this season into the horribly problem stuff. Sigh*

* Actually studying videos covering serious topics to navigate how to word things.

* I have to stop drawing so much art for everything or no one will ever see this video.

* The desire to animate my character lipsinking to me is an evolutionary disadvantage I will resist.

Cannon compliant Animatic:

* Song is Ironed out fought a while adding voice lines and I’m way more excited than I thought I’d be for this animatic because I thought it would be overshadowed by how strongly I feel about the other 2. But damn.

* I’m storyboarding after like my life depends on it rn

* Really trying to capture Nya’s character Ark which sent me right back to the video script because I remembered that one reddit post calling her a bitch and rage wrote for 2 hours.

* I am determined to make people see how good her character arc actually is.

* Throwing Jay shade in this one lol he was kinda awful even with being manipulated.

* Trying to convey clear Ideas and story through art is pain but also addicting.

* This is meant as a leading to both part two animatics, but bbnb Kai is shorter than wytyaa Kai. The difference is significant everything else pre dinner with Nadakhan is the same. The other head cannons are almost aligned as far as I know. It’s JUST Kai. What do I do with him?!? Lmao Might just distance him from the other ninja so you can’t tell how tall he is. Thank goodness he is the most gullible and first to wish it all away

P2 out like December if I’M lucky TT

Even though I should focus on first things first, I can’t help myself. these fics have lived rent free in my brain for like 2 years and despite plans shifting the excitement of drawing the story I read and put to music in my head is a force of nature. Thanks Adhd

Wytyaa:

* I storyboarded about half the scenes I want to. Songs are decided but a few parts I’m waiting for the rest of the story for.

* I think I’m going to mess with color palette. I really want to capture the emotion and intensity. I’m learning the full potential of my art and

* I need Final ch released for maping out the second half.

* BUT I AM NOT READY TO READ IT @mondothebombo And from what you told me I don’t think I’ll be able to finish P1 by then. cries*

* I wanna capture the feeling reading wytyaa.

* May make my wytyaa specific refs so I can make animatic art I can post early.

Bbnb

* It’s all storyboarded and half animated

* Thinking about redoing most the earlier stuff, consistency has been a problem

* Also was to mess with colors, dark backgrounds and intense colors.

* I fought with my ref forever to find good enough lightning scar colors cause figuring out the right amount of contrast is pain.

* So now I want to redraw my bbnb scar references a third time.

* May draw other bbnb specific refs so I can make some art for the animatic I can post here early or on on my old A03 book

If you have Any questions feel free to leave an ask! I answer all eventually sometimes I do save em up though so if I didn’t answer something yet, Sorry I will get to you.

[tojiscrack]

wherever you are right now, good morning/evening/night… that was a mouthful, but i’m not sure how else to start this.

it sounds serious, i know, it’s not, don’t worry, but i like being dramatic, haha, you know me ;) i have a small announcement to make — i say ‘small’ ‘cause it really can be done in one or two short sentences, but i’d like to give you some context and reasoning because i care about every single one of you reading this, all 470 of you, and i’d hate to leave you without an explanation.

i’m mainly addressing my LL (liar, liar) readers, ‘cause i seem to have a big following and a large number of people who interact with me because of that piece of work, but this also goes out to the very few people (and i’m not being dramatic when i say very few people, lol) who are loyal readers of SOANO (start of a new obsession).

i am going on hiatus.

yeah, i know, boo, tomatoes, the story was just getting started 😠 , etc, etc.

and i apologise.

genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, i’m truly, deeply sorry.

you’ve been forced to tolerate my extremely sporadic updates that were only just starting to get better (some updates would come weekly, whereas others would take two more weeks, but never an entire month like before). i really am sorry. i know what it feels like to enjoy a story and then be left on a cliffhanger (of sorts?) when the author goes on a hiatus — mini or not.

i think this long message will answer most of the questions you have in mind, the first being ‘how long will you be on hiatus for?’. and i do have a straight answer for that:

five months.

i know, it’s a lot. again, i apologise. i can’t apologise enough, but let’s keep the questions going.

the one i know you’re all wondering — why am i going on hiatus in the first place?

just to be clear (for those of you who have genuinely become close friends with me through interactions) i’m alive, healthy, and well! i’m not falling out of love with writing, i’ve not fallen out of love with LL or SOANO (no matter how slow the updates for the latter seems to be) and i’m not feeling pressured by writing either of these stories for you all!

the reason is quite simple… school :/ exams. MAJOR ones.

when i started writing SOANO, i was around 15 years old (give or take a few?) and i had no major exams at all to focus on. halfway through writing SOANO, i was met with my first set of important exams at 16. for those of you who are not british and/or not aware of the uk education system, GCSE’s are the exams that dictate which sixth-form college you go to. college, as in, not university-college, but the last two years of high school (junior + senior year) that are the only two years of sixthform/college.

when i started writing LL, i was in my first year of college at 17 (this time last year), and so the only ‘major’ exams i had were mock exams that would prep me for my university predicted-grades. i am now in my second (and final) year of college, and the exams during may and june will dictate the rest of my life. that includes which uni i go to, whether i’ll even go to uni at all, what course i’ll take at uni if i do end up going, etc.

you get the idea. these are important exams. the most important ones that i’ll ever have to sit this year, and starting tomorrow, i have 130 days to turn my very-average-grades around to three A’s (or perhaps two A’s and a B) to get into my desired uni.

unfortunately, i can’t do that if i spend most of my time writing up very lengthy chapters for you.

why can’t i split my time accordingly, even if it means going back to the once-a-month updates? because i am so incredibly, stupidly behind on content for the courses i’m taking right now that i can’t even afford to waste 30 minutes on doing anything other than praying and studying. that’s just the sad truth of it.

again, i’d like to apologise for the inconvenience. i’ve received so many lovely dm’s from so many of you (and i answer every single one, you know that) and in the conversations that many of us have had together, a lot of you use the story (LL) as a safe haven, an escape from your own messy school lives, almost in the same way that i use it to escape my messy school life. some of you have mentioned that you pull all-nighters simply to reread it all as if you’re reading it for the first time. a few of you have mentioned how this story was an escape from the tragic events of canon, which was exactly what i intended for it to be like during the planning process, and i’m still so overwhelmed and flattered by the growing love i’ve received from both old and new LL readers.

will the story be temporarily taken down?

absolutely not.

i considered it for a time, but after acknowledging those comments i mentioned above, i decided that what’s left of LL right now (170k+ words divided in 10 chapters) can still be a safe haven for you whenever you need it. i also knew that i wanted everything to look the same for when i’d return in late-june of this year. leaving it up would also mean that newer readers (future readers) would join the family too, and we love a full house ;)

will i still be active on tumblr during the hiatus?

yes! maybe not as frequently as before (like answering messages in my inbox every day) but i’ll definitely be active enough to get through any messages, comments, asks, etc, within the span of a week for sure. you can still tell me about your shitty day in my inbox, you can still vent to me about an encounter with a guy you hate in my dm’s, and you can definitely still send in silly things about LL or SOANO. i’ll still be active, it’ll be like i never left, only, without the fortnite-ly (not a word, i’m well aware) updates.

LL’s one year anniversary is coming up in a couple of days, and i wanted to release a new chapter in time for it, but looking at my exams and how much cramming i’m already going to have to do for it without writing on top of that… i reluctantly acknowledged that it just won’t be possible.

i think i’ve addressed everything… this is a little awkward now, lol.

once again, i apologise for any hurt or inconveniences i might’ve caused, but i myself don’t enjoy the idea of not writing for 5 months any better than you probably do. 0-0 i enjoy writing, it never felt like a chore to me, and i’m going to miss it during the next 5 months that i’ll be spending alone, grinding overtime like hermione granger…

please wait for me, my little liars <3

love, mother hen sumaya

[riboism]

haunted ═╬ act IV: the cat

♱ content tags: centuries old vampire! seonghwa x fem reader, vampire au, gothic romance, gothic horror, story takes place circa early 1900s, reincarnation, smut, angst, forbidden love, slowburn, lots of yearning, no happy ending, blood, satanism, animal cruelty, nosferatu/bram stroker’s dracula/edward scissorhands vibes

♱ a/n: sorry for being late with an update (depression sucks lol). I’ll try to be more consistent with the remaining parts. as always, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated.

♱ wordcount: 2.7k

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The rest of the morning felt off, as if your reality had begun to blur at the edges. Every time you wandered through the estate’s dimly lit hallways, the creak of the old wooden floors sent a strange sense of familiarity crawling up your spine. It was maddening, like the walls were whispering to you in a language you almost understood, their voices just out of reach.

You couldn't take it anymore. The strangeness of the Count, the mysteriousness of the estate, and the dreams—God, the dreams—had become too much to ignore. There had to be answers somewhere. Without another thought, you grabbed your winter coat and strode down to town, determined to find them.

By the time you reached the bank, you were breathless from the steep steps leading up to its grand entrance. Steadying yourself, you approached the front desk, where the same bank teller from before sat, her glasses perched low on her nose as she sorted through a stack of papers.

"Is Mr. Kang available?" you asked, still catching your breath.

She didn’t bother looking up. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, no, but—"

"Mr. Kang is only available by appointment," she cut in flatly, flipping another page.

You clenched your fists, willing yourself to remain composed. "Please, it’s urgent. I don’t mind waiting."

This time, she lifted her gaze just enough to regard you with practiced indifference. "I’m sorry, but unless you have an appointment, I cannot help you."

Frustration simmered in your chest as you turned on your heel, ready to leave in defeat, until a familiar voice called out behind you.

"Miss Y/L/N!"

Relief flooded through you as you turned to see Mr. Kang hurrying toward you, his ever-present smile wide and warm. "I knew that was you! What brings you here?"

His friendliness was like a breath of fresh air. In a town like this, it felt good to have even the semblance of a friend. You smiled, grateful. "Good afternoon, Mr. Kang. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something."

"Of course," he said smoothly, placing a guiding hand on the small of your back as he led you toward his office. "Anything for a friend of a friend. I have a few minutes before my next meeting."

You cast a smug glance at the receptionist as you passed, satisfied with your small victory.

Once settled in Mr. Kang’s office, your eyes were immediately drawn to the painting you had delivered just days ago, now proudly displayed on the wall.

"Really livens up the place, doesn’t it?" he mused, following your gaze.

You nodded absently before shifting in your seat, sitting up straighter. "Actually, Mr. Kang, I came to ask about my employer."

Yeosang leaned forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. "Oh? Is this about his account? If so, I’m afraid I can’t discuss financial matters without his presence."

"No, no, it’s not that," you said quickly, hesitating as you tried to find the right words. Now that you were here, you realized you hadn’t exactly planned how to phrase your concerns without sounding ridiculous. "It’s more… personal. I suppose I’m just curious about his background. He’s very private, as you know, and since I’m living under the same roof as him, I just—well, I guess I’d like to be sure I’m not in any…"

"Danger?" Mr. Kang supplied, raising a brow.

The word felt too strong—maybe even rude—but you didn’t know how else to put it. After a beat, you gave a small nod.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I understand your concern. I was worried the townspeople’s gossip might be getting to you. But I can assure you, Count Park is a good man."

Somehow, that wasn’t as reassuring as he probably intended.

"That said," he continued, "if you're looking for more information about him, I’m afraid I’ve already told you everything I know. Your best bet would be the town registry. They may have more records on his estate and lineage."

The town registry. The thought hadn’t occurred to you before, but now that he’d mentioned it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something important could be waiting for you there.

After thanking Mr. Kang for his time, you set off toward the other side of town in search of the Town Clerk’s office. It was a bit of a trek for your tired feet, but your curiosity urged you forward. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to find. Mr. Kang was right—Count Park was strange, yes, his habits somewhat odd, but he had never been unkind. He had done nothing to warrant this growing unease that had settled in your chest. And yet… something wasn’t right. You couldn’t shake the feeling, nor could you bring yourself to sleep another night in that castle without at least trying to uncover the truth.

The Town Clerk’s office was an old, run-down building. The doors barely held together, their hinges rusted and weak, and thick cobwebs clung to the corners of the entryway. The wooden floorboards groaned beneath your hesitant steps, kicking up the scent of dust and decay. The air was stale, tinged with something unpleasant. Behind the counter stood an older man, his posture slouched with the same disinterest you had received from the woman at the bank. He barely looked up as you approached.

"Hello," you greeted, keeping your voice low. "I’m here on behalf of… Count Park Seonghwa."

At the mention of his name, the man’s gaze snapped toward you.

"He’s my cousin," you lied, forcing a nervous chuckle. "He asked me to come down and request a copy of his records, as he’s thinking of moving soon. You see, he’s been quite sick and—"

The clerk didn’t seem to care for your fabricated sob story. Without a word, he turned around and pulled out a long, rickety drawer, his fingers skimming over aged documents. After a brief pause, he retrieved a worn file and handed it to you without so much as a glance.

"Thank you," you mumbled, taking the file gingerly. You wasted no time tucking it into your shopping bag. The sun was beginning to set, casting an eerie golden glow over the town, so you stepped back outside, eager to return to the castle before nightfall.

As you walked back up the path, something felt… off. The air had changed, thick with something heavy and foreboding. An unsettling silence blanketed the town, save for the distant murmurs of people gathered in small clusters. Their faces were drawn and grave, their voices tinged with fear and anger. As you drew closer, you noticed more dead cows strewn along the dirt roads, their bodies limp and lifeless, eyes wide open. The scent of rot and blood stung your nose.

People were no longer merely mourning their losses—they were furious.

"That bastard! First my sheep, now my cows—someone’s doing this on purpose!"

"You think I had anything to do with this? You’re out of your mind!"

"All of us are suffering! God has abandoned us! First the cattle, then who’s to say our crops next?"

"You heard the stories! It’s the devil’s work! I told you he was cursed!"

Their voices rose in hysteria, their rage spilling over into accusations hurled at one another. Some men had begun shoving, women whispering behind their hands, their eyes darting toward the looming silhouette of the Count’s estate in the distance.

A cold dread seeped into your bones. The shift in the air wasn’t just in your mind. Something was happening. The people were on edge, their patience worn thin. It didn’t take much to see where their anger was beginning to turn.

Your pulse quickened, panic setting in. You had to leave before anyone noticed you lingering. Pulling your coat tighter around you, you hurried up the path, your boots crunching against the gravel as you retreated toward the castle.

⸺

You busied yourself in the kitchen, hoping the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the simmering pot on the stove would distract you from the unsettling events of the day. But your mind kept drifting—to the townspeople, their anger, the lifeless cattle, and most of all, the Count.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. You turned, surprised to see him standing in the doorway, dressed immaculately as always, as if the night before had never happened. He looked almost… untouched, unaffected.

You studied him carefully, searching for any sign of weakness, any lingering trace of last night’s affliction. But there was none. His complexion was as perfect as ever, his posture poised, his expression neutral. If anything, he seemed even more put together than usual, as if whatever had weakened him had vanished without a trace.

"Good evening," he greeted, sounding well-rested, as if the last twenty-four hours had been nothing but a dream.

You hesitated before responding, gripping the wooden spoon in your hand a little tighter. "Good evening, Count." You swallowed, forcing your tone to remain casual. "How are you feeling?"

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Why do you ask?"

You faltered. He was toying with you. "Well," you began carefully, "you were quite ill last night. I was worried."

"I was?" He stepped further into the kitchen, trailing his gloved fingers over the edge of the counter as he studied the meal you were preparing.

"You were coughing up blood," you pressed, watching his face closely. "You collapsed."

He leaned against the counter, as if trying to remember. "Ah yes…That must have been troubling for you."

Your lips parted in disbelief. What kind of response was that?

"It was more than troubling," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice. "You nearly collapsed in my arms. I stayed with you the entire night, worried you wouldn't wake up."

His eyes softened, but not in the way you'd expected. It wasn’t gratitude, nor regret. It was something else—something knowing.

"And yet, here I am," he said smoothly. "Alive and well."

You narrowed your eyes. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this? Was he trying to play it off that nothing had happened last night, that somehow you were the delusional one? "That doesn't explain anything."

He sighed as if indulging a particularly stubborn child, then turned his gaze to the pot simmering on the stove. "What are you making?"

You scoffed, incredulous at the way he was so effortlessly dodging the conversation. "Clam chowder," you muttered, stirring the pot with a little more force than necessary.

"Smells lovely," he murmured, though his interest seemed distant. He looked at you then, his gaze lingering just a moment too long before he spoke again. "Thank you for your concern."

It was dismissive. A conversation-ender. And you hated it.

But more than anything, you hated how much he unsettled you. Because despite his feigned nonchalance, despite the way he refused to acknowledge what had happened… you knew he was hiding something. And you were going to find out what. 

⸺

As soon as you finished your nightly duties, you retreated to your room, locking the door behind you. Your body was exhausted, but your mind refused to rest. The weight of the documents in your lap felt heavier than paper should, as if they carried a truth too burdensome to bear.

You lit a candle, its flickering light barely illuminating the delicate, crumbling pages. The handwriting was difficult to decipher, the ink faded and the style archaic. You squinted, running your fingers over the words, tracing the loops and sharp angles in an attempt to piece together a story lost to time.

And then you saw it.

Park Seonghwa.

Your breath hitched. It was his name—unmistakably his, written in elegant script. You frowned, flipping through the pages, your heart pounding faster with every word you managed to make out. It was a marriage certificate.

This Certifies that Count Park Seonghwa & Lady Alya Were United In Marriage on the Seventh Day of June in the Year 1836. 

Your breath grew shallow. Eighty years ago. That was impossible. The Count was so young. He couldn’t have been married eighty years ago. He couldn’t have been alive eighty years ago, not looking the way he did now.

Your hands shook as you turned another page. There was no birth record for him, nothing to confirm when or where he had come into existence. It was as if he had simply appeared one day. You turned a few more pages, until you stumbled upon another document: 

Deed of Land. Let all men know and understand that as of the Third of February in the year 1621, Count Park Seonghwa is the true and original land owner of this following parcel: Lot 1117. The Interior of this land belongs to, and is under the control of Count Park Seonghwa. In the event of his passing, all rights and ownership herein shall be bestowed upon his lawful spouse, the Countess Ha-Rin.

None of what you read made any sense. You wondered if the ink had faded with time or if your weary eyes were simply deceiving you. Yet, no matter how many times you reread the words, the documents remained clear, official, and indisputable. A deep unease settled in your chest as you traced the elegant, aged script with your fingertips.

Just then, a brittle newspaper clipping slipped from the stack, fluttering to the floor. You leaned down, picking it up with trembling hands. The paper was fragile beneath your touch, its edges yellowed with time. Squinting, you carefully deciphered the small, faded text, your breath hitching as the words sank in.

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you read the details. It was about the fire. The west wing of the estate had burned to the ground, the family suffering one casualty. Lady Alya was 68 when she died. But as you scoured the pages for more, for proof, for confirmation, there was none. No death certificate. No record of her remains. Nothing.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers clamming as you reached the last document in the stack. It was a photograph, old and wrinkled. You brought it closer to the candlelight, and your breath left you in a sharp gasp.

It was her.

The old woman from your dream. The same hauntingly familiar face. The soft curve of her lips, the gentle slope of her nose, the sorrow lingering in her eyes—eyes that mirrored your own.

Your hands grew clammy, and the paper slipped slightly from your grasp. How was this possible?

The air in your room felt suddenly thick and suffocating. The candle flickered violently as a sudden gust of wind rattled the windowpane. And then—

Thump.

It came from outside. A strange shuffling, wet and guttural.

You hesitated, Count Park’s words echoing in your mind, his warning to never go outside at night. But your curiosity, your fear, your need to understand, overpowered your reason.

Slowly, you reached for your coat, draping it over your shoulders before stepping toward the door. You moved carefully down the hall, the manor eerily silent, save for the howling wind beyond the walls.

You stepped outside the castle. The night was colder than usual, the wind sharp against your skin. The moon cast a dim glow over the grounds, stretching shadows across the frost-covered earth. Your breath came out in quiet puffs as you followed the sound, your feet crunching softly against the gravel.

Then you saw it, the origin of the sound.

It was a dark figure crouched over something in the grass, its shoulders rising and falling with each grotesque movement. There was a sickening squelch, a wet tearing noise that filled the air. You felt your stomach churn as you took another step closer, a sudden crunch of the autumn leaves giving away your presence.

The figure’s head snapped up.

Your heart stopped.

It was him.

The Count.

But he wasn’t the man you knew.

His lips were stained red, fresh blood dripping from his chin. His eyes, normally dark and heavy, were an inhuman shade of crimson, glowing like embers in the night. His fangs, long and glistening, protruded from his parted lips. And in his grasp, limp and lifeless, was the body of a cat, its black fur matted with blood.

A choked gasp left your throat.

Count Park froze, his expression undecipherable, though something flickered in his monstrous gaze—something almost like regret.

But it was too late.

Your vision blurred. Your head spun.

And then, the darkness took you.

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