My Wrtitng - Blog Posts

the feeling when you write a chapter and keeps coming back to make "a few changes here and there" and ends up with a while different chapter

bonus if you can only write this one chapter because you keep coming back everytime and can't let go 💔💔💔

Note #2 ‘something I wrote’

"Drawn without a pause, craving you like a passion with no bounds."

———————

Don't you know

How I'm drawn to you

so much, too much

In your eyes, I am lost

The way they shine , whites dancing in the light

Is the only thing that really feels right 

The warmth In your embrace,

I shall find refuge in

To all in with you,

My heart it feels at ease and rest, At peace if one could say best

I wish you saw just how much I have the interest

The craziness I hide within me,

To know that each breath you take

My heart, it beats for the unsaid feeling 

My soul aches to feel your presence

My heart thirsts for you

Like a parched desert for rain.

Your touch is like a cool breeze,

Your voice is like a soothing refrain.

Your words shall be like the rising sun

Brings light to my heart's darkest nights

In the unbearable tormenting hour, you are my spark of hope

With all my might I might say

I long to be yours

Night and day

body and soul

And that won’t ever change to all With you

—what could have been

Famous Actor x Reader ~ pt. 1

*briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

Where is the phone?

*briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

It has to be somewhere here. I know I saw it just a moment ago.

*briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

Did I take it somewhere else in the house-

*briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

You shoved all of the papers off of your desk and found your phone at the very bottom. You smiled slightly as you saw the caller ID.

“Hello, husband.” You smiled as you answered.

“Hello, husband.” Your husband answered. “Was your phone in another room?”

“No, it was under a bunch of papers. I was, however, fully convinced I was hallucinating for a moment though.”

You smiled as your husband let out a small laugh at that. You really were lucky to be married to him.

“Well, I wanted to let you know that there has been a slight delay on set, so I’ll be getting home a little late. Do you want me to pick anything up on my way home?” He asked.

“There’s nothing I can think of right now, but I’ll text you if something comes up.” You smiled even though he couldn’t see you.

“Alright, I love you.”

“Love you too.” He ended the call and you threw your phone onto the couch of your home office. It was one of the days you didn’t have any classes, so you had stayed home all day researching. With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the papers you had put on the ground. Turning your laptop back on you got back to work on your thesis. It was an absolute pain in the ass, but you enjoyed the research and were determined.

It wasn’t until four hours later that you decided to take a break. You winced as the clock read 5:14. On the plus side, this meant that your husband would be getting home soon, so you could start making dinner and have it ready for him.

This gradually changed throughout your relationship. When you first moved in together right after university, you both worked vaguely the same hours, with the exception of when you were working shows. Now that your husband is considered a serious celebrity and spends most of his time on sets and you’ve started working on your PhD, your hours no longer synch up.

As you walked towards the kitchen you passed by the photos that line your wall. The photos are from trips the two of you’ve gone on, your anniversaries, and most importantly, your wedding. In every photo you’re both smiling and looking incredibly happy. It fills your heart with joy to see everytime you pass by.

Opening the fridge, you noticed that you had all the ingredients to make a very fancy pasta dish—maybe fancy isn’t the right word—a very full pasta dish with spinach and feta cheese. Putting some music on and getting down the necessary pots, you got to work.

After boiling the pasta and setting it aside, you started adding the butter, oil, and onions to a pan. You were frying them in the pan when the door opened. You smiled as your husband walked into the kitchen, obviously exhausted.

“Hi, love.” He said, draping himself in a hug behind you.

You laughed softly. “Hi. Long day?”

He made a sound of agreement and frustration as he buried his face into your neck. You brought your hand up to pat his head.

“I need to finish making food, love. I’m starving and I’m guessing you are too.”

Your husband sighed and slowly let go of you. He kissed you on the cheek and started emptying his pockets on the kitchen island.

“I’m going to shower quickly. I was talking to Mike in the woodshop before I left and I think there are a bunch of wood chips in my hair.”

You examined his hair, noting the small specs of wood sticking out. “How long did you spend in there?”

“It doesn’t matter how long I was there for. It’s contagious.” He smirked and then ran up stairs.

You laughed and shook your head.

By the time your husband was done showering and came downstairs, the food was plated and sitting at the table. He sat down and started eating like a starved man.

“This is delicious, darling.”

“I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t entirely sure how well the peppers would go with the feta, but it seems to have worked out.” You picked at your food as you talked. The peppers had been on the verge of going bad so you’d roasted them with the tomatoes and zucchini to make the tomato sauce for the pasta.

“It’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. You should do this again sometime. We could make a bunch of sauce and freeze it so that we always have some.”

You smiled and relaxed at the compliments. One of the best parts of your relationship was how comfortable he was with complimenting you. No matter how many times he said it, it never felt forced or stiffling.

“That might be a weekend thing.”

“Assuming there is no event I find out about last minute.”

You nodded and the two of you ate the rest of your meal in comfortable silence.

An hour later you found yourselves lying on the couch. More like you lying on the couch and your husband lying on top of you. It was honestly adorable. You couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or not, but you were unwilling to to pass up this opportunity for a cute photo. You took the photo in a way that made it so that you couldn’t tell who you were but could tell who your husband was.

Laughing to yourself, you opened your secret Instagram account. It wasn’t really a secret, so to say. No one knew that your husband was married, so you had created an Instagram account pretending to be a fan account to post funny pictures of him. Your account was not popular by any means, but that was what made it funny to you.

The first touch felt like a cure,

chaos faded, the world seemed obscure.

Sorrow hushed, anger dissolved,

in a pool of blood, a flower evolved.

a dream

i dreamt it again,my vision is blurred at first then i start to see it clearly again.a city consumed by flames the dead litter the streets the clash of blades fills my ears like it always does but it eventually echoes away to be replaced by the voice of a young woman she whispers the same words as always darkness rises when silence dies its always the same strange sentence each time im sent into this dream not a nightmare no its never felt like a nightmare i always feel a strange sense of calm when im in this place.the dream ends like it always does with me staring at a scorched statue of a young woman.