Your time spent enjoying the creative process is infinitely more valuable that any final project you create. So stop putting yourself down for never finishing or posting those WIPs because every moment you spent creating something you loved is a moment not wasted. Your progress and talent is measured by your passion not your number of posts.
if i don’t periodically remind myself that there are a LOT of other ppl in their 20s who currently do nothing at all but lie in bed and type on various different screens all day then i start having heart palpitations
by disabling text highlighting, no one will be able to highlight and use the ‘copy’ option, therefore preventing your work from being copied and posted somewhere else. but this only works on pc.
put the code below UNDER [ </body> ]
( Customize → Edit HTML → ctrl+f → type in ‘</body>’ )
make oc playlists. spend hours on moodboards that have no purpose. write self-indulgent fluff that’s never going to be published. scribble three lines of poetry in the back of your history notebook. draw fanart of your own characters. write stupid dialogue that your publishers might hate. start new wips that you might never finish but write those three chapters that make you happy because if you don’t write them, who else will?
writing shouldn’t always be about “will publishers like this” or “i have to reach this word count” or “how do i get the most likes”.
I'm so glad I found your tumblr! I was in the mood to binge on Dirty Little Secret again (I may have done this like... three times when I first found it) but it wasn't on AO3 anymore and I PANICKED. I wasn't a fanfic writer back then, so I didn't understand the importance of comments, so I'll definitely try to make it up to you now!
Omg it really blows my mind that someone still reads my old stuff 🙈 and sorry for deleting it on ao3 😬 I didn't mean to cause you to panic. But I'm glad that you found my Tumblr and got to read it again 😁 I hope you enjoy/enjoyed it ❤️
Hi! Thank you for wanting to give it a try, that's so nice of you. I have these two ideas for Sebastian one shots. One of them is where reader and Seb are dating and rarely fight, but lately reader has been acting strangely (like coming home late, secret phone calls...) and Seb thinks she's cheating on him and confronts her but what it is really happening is that she was organizing a surprise party for his bday and when he finds out he feels really bad for thinking she could do that to him?
Usually I try to avoid posting on weekends, but I also didn't want to keep this from you any longer. Thank you for sending this request and giving me some much needed inspiration! :) I hope this is kind of what you wanted it to be. (also, I'm still working on your second request, but I'm a little more stuck on that than I was on this one, so no promises. But I haven’t given up yet)
It was nearing midnight when he finally heard the door open and close downstairs, a feeling of relief rushing through his chest. Tossing his toothbrush into the little cup, he ran a hand through his wet hair to push it back while he stepped out of the bathroom and made his way downstairs.
You were standing at the kitchen island, your bag carelessly tossed on the counter. Eyes trained on your phone, you hadn't noticed him yet as you stared at the screen with a little frown on your face, your thumbs flying over the keyboard.
"Hey, hon'," he spoke up in a quiet murmur, his eyebrows furrowing in surprise and confusion as you visibly flinched, almost dropping your phone.
"Jesus, you scared the hell out of me," you giggled a bit breathlessly and placed your phone down on the kitchen island before you approached him. "Didn't know if you'd still be awake," you added, his eyes not leaving yours as you loosely wrapped your arms around his neck.
"'was just getting ready for bed," he mumbled, giving you a fond smile while his hands slipped around your waist. "Have you been at work all this time? I've tried calling you a few times but I always went straight to voicemail."
"Uh, yeah. I've been in a conference call that took forever."
He wanted to believe you, he really did. But the way you shifted your gaze to somewhere behind him, effectively avoiding his eyes, was a dead giveaway that you were lying. "With your cell phone?"
"Yeah, it was-" breaking off, you sighed deeply and shook your head, your gaze meeting his confused one again. "You know what, it really doesn't matter. Point is, I've had a long day and I'm tired and I missed you," your bottom lip jutted up into a pout that made him chuckle softly.
Arms tightening around you, he pulled you flush to his chest and noticed the way your features immediately relaxed. He decided to drop the topic for now as your lips met his in a tender kiss. You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't push. He knew that if it really bothered you, then you would talk to him at some point.
But boy was he wrong. It dragged on for nearly two weeks. Two weeks of you being glued to your phone and coming home late more often than not, seeming to grow more and more distant with each passing day. At first he was worried that you were overworking yourself, that something or someone at work made you feel like you couldn't take a break without falling behind.
Though, it all changed when he realized that you left the room every single time your phone rang or you excused yourself to call someone. You had never done that ever since he had met you almost three years ago, no matter if it was a work related call or a simple chat with your friends. From that moment on anxiety ate him up on the inside- worries of you seeing someone else kept him up at night while you peacefully slept next to him.
And he was so close to confronting you several times, to ask you what the hell was going on behind his back, but then you always gave him that smile that he had fallen in love with all those years ago and he chickened out. Every single time. He knew he couldn't accuse you of something so horrible without having any real evidence.
He was so caught up in everything that had happened lately that he didn't even properly realize his birthday had crept up on him until you crawled on his lap one night and gave him a wide smile.
"Happy birthday, Seb," your voice was quiet and tender, hands gentle as you cupped them around his cheeks. His gaze briefly shifted to the nearest clock, his confusion quickly morphing into a surprised expression as he realized that it was midnight. "Oh, shit. I didn't even realize- thank you, hon'," he chuckled, gladly accepting the soft kiss you placed on his lips.
The 90's show playing on the TV was long forgotten as you combed a hand through his hair. "Do you want to do anything special tomorrow? Or more like today?"
He pulled a shoulder up in a half-shrug. "I wish, but I can't. My entire day is packed with meetings," he told you and smiled as you gave him a little pout.
"That's a bummer," you sighed softly. "You could text me when you're on the way home so I can make dinner for us, how about that?" you suggested, his lips immediately stretching into a grin.
"That sounds perfect."
–—–—–—–—–—–
He hated meetings. They were always insanely boring and he tended to drift off a lot, having too much time to think- in this case, about you. About the weird way you had behaved lately and how it was slowly driving him insane.
By the time he was on his way home he was so worked up that he felt like exploding, his jaw clenched as he unlocked the front door to the apartment. He couldn't take this any longer, not while it was eating him up on the inside. "Honey?" he called, tossing his keys aside and wrestling out of his jacket, hearing your socked footsteps approaching.
"Hey, babe," you smiled and stepped over to him, arms reaching out to him.
Babe. A stupid little nickname was the breaking point. You had never called him that before and he couldn't help but wonder if you called someone else babe and this was just a slip up.
"We need to talk," he spoke up, his voice firm and serious. You immediately faltered in your movements, the smile on your lips slowly dying as you looked at him with confusion written in your eyes. Briefly glancing over your shoulder towards the dark living room, you looked into his eyes again and crossed your arms in front of your chest.
"Is everything okay?" you wanted to know, your voice soft and eyes worried and for a short moment he wondered how the hell he could ever accuse you of something so horrible.
Running a hand through his hair, he rubbed his palm over his jaw in an anxious way. "Are you cheating on me?" he asked. The firmness his voice had previously held was gone, instead replaced by insecurity and anxiety, a bit of a tremble lingering in the words.
Lips parting in surprise, you looked at him with wide eyes. "Why- Sebastian, what-" you stumbled over your words. He wanted nothing more than to take the words back as he noticed the hurt and disbelief written in your eyes.
"Honey, I don't- you're always coming home so late these days, you know?" he tried to explain, nervously fiddling around with his fingers. "And you're constantly on the phone. You're always leaving the room when someone calls and you've never done that before. It feels like you're suddenly keeping everything secret from me and I- I don't know what to think anymore."
The last few words left his lips in a defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping under the weight they had been carrying for weeks at that point. Hurt. Betrayal. That was all he saw in your eyes as you looked at him, not saying a word. "Please just tell me that I'm wrong," he whispered as you stayed silent for too long.
Reaching out and taking his hands into yours, you walked backwards and pulled him along, ignoring the confusion on his features. You let go of one of his hands to hit the light switch as you stepped into the living room.
"... Surprise."
It wasn't a joyful cheer like it usually was in the movies, instead more of a hesitant mutter as several pairs of eyes looked at you and him with uncertainty written in them. Colorful balloons decorated the room and he could see a birthday cake with tons of candles on the table behind you, but he didn't really concentrate on it. His whole attention was on you. He had fucked up big time.
"Happy Birthday," you whispered, though he could see that you were fighting back the tears.
–—–—–—–—–—–
Needless to say, your guests didn't stay for too long. Before the last person properly left the apartment you had disappeared, somehow managing to avoid him for over an hour while he cleaned up the living room and put the untouched cake into the fridge.
By the time he had changed into more comfortable clothes you had somehow snuck into the kitchen without him noticing. He found you sitting on the counter, digging into a bowl of ice cream and avoiding his gaze until he stood right in front of you. No words were exchanged as you finally met his blue eyes, nothing but silent apologies written in them, while his hands gently and almost hesitantly came to rest on your thighs.
Holding your spoon between your teeth, you didn't take your eyes off him as you reached to the side, blindly grasping for the second spoon you had grabbed earlier. He couldn't help but smile as you held it out to him. "You could've taken a slice of the cake, you know," he spoke up while taking the spoon from you only to place it aside again.
You shook your head. "It's yours," you mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream, "it would be so rude of me to take the first piece."
"But I don't deserve it anymore."
His voice was so quiet that you barely caught it. Eyebrows furrowing, you studied his features with a heavy heart while he kept his gaze trained on the bowl in your hands. "Seb..."
Quickly placing the bowl and spoon away, you cupped your cold hands around his face. Deep worry lines were visible on his forehead as his gaze hesitantly met yours. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, guilt clear in his voice.
Gently combing a hand through his hair, you couldn't help but smile as he leaned in to place a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry, too."
"What? Why?" he asked, confusion written all over his face. "Hon', I'm the one who fucked up," he reminded you and continued before you could try to speak up, "I hurt you. I accused you of something horrible even though I never thought that you'd actually be that kind of person. I ruined the whole birthday party. I humiliated you in front of all our friends."
Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks while you slowly shook your head. "And I was obviously really bad at planning a birthday party behind your back. I clearly pushed you away or acted different around you, otherwise you probably would've never wondered if I was cheating on you."
His features dropped, teeth digging into his bottom lip for a moment. "I should've just talked to you and asked you what's going on, instead of attacking you with an accusation like that," he sighed and leaned into you, a soft smile spreading over your lips as he rested his forehead against your chest. "I'm sorry."
Combing your hands through the short hair at the back of his head several times, you dipped your head down to place a soft kiss on his head. "Let's just agree to never plan a surprise party ever again?"
He was quiet for a moment before he chuckled softly, nodding while he lifted his head again. "Agreed," he grinned. His hands slid from your thighs to your hips as you tilted your head in a silent request for a kiss, tugging you closer until your chest was pressed against his. Your lips met in a tender kiss, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders and almost feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch. "Are we okay?" he whispered once he pulled back, receiving a nod of your head.
"Very okay," you breathed and found his lips in another peck. He couldn't help but smile against your lips, barely able to stay away from you now that he knew you weren't mad at him.
"There's just... another… tiny problem," he mumbled between soft kisses.
"What is it?"
"That's a massive cake and I don't know who's supposed to eat all of that," he murmured, grinning as you tossed your head back and laughed.
"I'm sure we'll figure something out," you giggled.
