Sad Girl Hours - Tumblr Posts
I would like to introduce my YouTube channel that I make playlists on. It's a mixture of different music, but the most popular are the Bucky Barnes playlists that I had made a while ago. Music is my stronger point in the arts. Followed by Art, Theater, and science.
If you read my last post, besides losing important Word documents, my SD card deleted my music most were songs that had long been deleted off YouTube, especially Tatsuro Yamashita music.
Stripes (which is tips on Tumblr) keeps acting up so I am gonna disable it. If any of y'all know of any other financial platforms or would like to recommend songs for a playlist, you are more than welcome to leave it in the comments or message me. Currently I am working on another Bucky Barnes playlist 3 and another Sad girl Hours playlist 2. Am trying to fix up that Haytham x reader story. Will post it soon
I made ko-fi if you would like to support me.
Hii guys (sorta life update) ❤️
Omg! I’m still alive & I can’t believe that I’ve been gone from here for what feels like forever. I’m ngl I did kinda fell off from here & from this side of me. I honestly don’t know why. It was honestly better here, even if I hadn’t really interacted with a lot of you. I still felt your support & love. I still wish to communicate with all you pretties. I was better, especially writing fics for jungkook & keeping myself updated with BTS. I didn’t fall off completely tho, ig I just took a break from everything. Especially since I’ve been trying to get my life together so suddenly. Mainly with getting myself together & becoming someone better for myself. Appearance & mental wise. I’m changing & I’ve definitely been going thru different changes. I’ve become like SO emotional lately as well, like it’s so freaking easy for me to cry now. That sucks because I’m already such an emotional person. It’s kinda been hard because I’ve been in my own head as well, trying to make sense of things on my own, which I know I really shouldn’t do. I’ve also been seeking comfort or a connection, love even with people I don’t know, even if it isn’t really reciprocated just because I’ve been longing for it more now than ever. I hate that, because I shouldn’t be doing that either. Especially at a time where I’m supposed to just focus on myself & not worry about those kinds of things right now, because I know that when it happens, it will happen. I shouldn’t try seeking it on my own, especially when I know I’m not ready for any of it. My emotions have just been out of wack lately & I hate it so much lol. But I want to come back here, I know it hasn’t been THAT long but it feels like it to me. I want to find my way back to things that made me genuinely happy. Which is this blog, writing for jungkook & staying updated with my loves because I just miss them so much, it’s been so hard these days & I don’t want to let myself let go. I’m sorry for this random long ass rant though. I just needed to get it out somewhere & to let you all know that I’m not abandoning this blog any time soon & that I will be more active again. I love you all so much, seriously ❤️❤️❤️❤️
I want to make Tumblr friends but unfortunately, idk how
🎬
Send 🎬 for a random scene in my muse's life.
Annelise gripped the bars of the ferry, a feeble attempt to steady the trembling in her hands. The boat hadn't departed from the dock yet, but she already felt a thousand miles away from the girl she was this morning. The night air was cold, unreasonably so, and yet she couldn't seem to feel anything but terror and regret surging through her veins, flooding her with a heated ire she couldn't quite describe.
For what felt like the millionth time that night, Annelise felt a sense of dread swell in her chest. In the span of a few hours, everything she'd ever known had shattered to pieces and she'd ruined more than just her own life in the process. She'd been so sure that George would've proposed. He'd been stringing her along for a month, and she couldn't imagine that meant anything other than intent. But his words stuck into her flesh like barbs, each syllable dripping in venom.
Oh my God, he'd spat between curved lips. You thought I would marry you.
It hadn't even been a question, just a fact, plain and true and blindingly clear in retrospect. George had never intended to propose to Annelise. She had merely been an outlet to relieve himself of his manly needs, his toy to play with and cast aside when he was done. It all seemed so painfully obvious now, and Annie had never felt so stupid.
You're beautiful, I'll grant you that. And I had a fine time between your thighs.
The memory of his words is sour and bile rises in her throat at the thought. How had she let him tarnish her in such a way? How stupid had she truly been to believe someone like George Chervil would be capable of anything other than lust?
You have no money to speak of, and your family certainly will not enhance my own.
Anne shook her head, willing the echoes of his words to leave her alone. Even with the deafening crash of the tides below her, all Annelise could hear were his words on repeat, growing louder and more saturated with poison each time around.
She tries to redirect her own thoughts, to anything other than George, but the feat is near impossible. She manages to switch her train of thought to Fiona Beckwith, his supposed fiancée. An unassuming girl, really, but one that had somehow managed to steal Annie's life from her without even trying. George did not love Fiona. But he didn't love Annelise, either. The only thing he loved was the feeling of a woman's mind and body wrapped around his finger.
Before she can allow her mind to spiral even further into despair, the ferry's horn blew, signalling the departure of the vessel. The sound was loud, loud enough to drown out the voices in her head for at least a moment. Other passengers flooded to the bars around her, eager to wave goodbye to their loved ones. But Annelise remained frozen, tears rising in her eyes as she searched for faces that weren't there.
Annelise Shawcross had died, hours ago. The life she had always known was a distant memory now and the path forward was foggy. Who was she supposed to be now that she could not be herself? She had spent sixteen years of her life molding herself into the Annelise that the world expected her to be. And now she was left raw and naked, without a single idea of how to begin again.
"Goodbye." Her voice isn't audible over the cacophony of waves and chatter and machinery. But it's for the best, she thinks. No one would've heard her words anyhow. There was no one left to say goodbye to, no one left to mourn her as she began her life. The noises also help to drown out the awful sound of her sniffling and the rattling in her chest as a sob escapes her lips, her grief and despair falling into the dark, choppy waters below.
"Perhaps you need more experience teaching young thespians, then. I'd suggest the Pleinsworth girls, but they already have a rather capable tutor, I think. Maybe the Smythe-Smith girls? The ladies of that family have an... affinity for the performing arts." An 'affinity' was certainly one way of putting it, but Anne couldn't bring herself to bad mouth the affluent family. After all, her own employer was once a Smythe-Smith, and had once upon a time performed on the same stage that Anne had performed on not very long ago.
"It would seem I am, wouldn't it?" She smirked. "Puck the barn cat. That sounds nice. I never had any animals growing up, though I'd always wanted a kitten." She'd never considered what she'd name it, but it wouldn't be a stretch to assume it might've been named in a similar fashion to Puck. Perhaps, something like Feste or Grumio.
As an adult, Anne understood why her parents hadn't been keen on allowing her to have a cat, but it had seemed wholly unfair at the time. Her sister Marabeth had been allowed to nurse an injured bird back to health, keeping the little creature in a basket by her bed. But Annelise couldn't have a cat who would mostly take care of itself? A part of her is almost glad she was never allowed to have a pet, though. If she'd grown attached to an animal, forged a bond with this hypothetical little kitten, it would've been even harder to leave it all behind.
She listened to him speak, a pleased expression on her face. Anne rarely spoke of her childhood, and for good reason, but hearing Ben speak of his was almost enough to fill that void in her heart. In a different timeline, she might've had a barn cat named Puck. Or a goat named Archibald, and horses and a husband, and, ultimately, a life that wasn't spent running from her past. A life of her own choosing. But such a fate wasn't possible for Anne. For Frances, however, it could be. For Elizabeth and Harriet, too. Although Anne dreaded the day that the three girls outgrew the need for a teacher, she knew the Pleinsworth girls would make splashes of their own out in the world. Men wouldn't know what to do with themselves when the three of them finally dove into society, and the thought of it all made her smile.
"Spoken like a true gentleman." Anne teased, but there was a solemn tone to her voice. It was easy for a man to say such a thing, since he would never truly know what it was like to have a child. All men were limited in their connections to children, even ones that sprouted from their own seed. But for women, for mothers, a bond with their child was magical, and the idea that Anne might never have the chance to form such a relationship was heartbreaking. She loved her students dearly, but it would never be the same as having her own family. The love she had for the Pleinsworths would never match the love she could've had if she hadn't been so foolish.
But Benjamin didn't need to hear that side of her plight. There was enough sorrow in the world without her addition to it, especially when George was still out there, polluting the air with his vulgarity. It was refreshing, at least, to know that there were men like Ben that existed. Men that weren't gifted the world to them on a silver platter, that didn't expect women to fall to their knees for them. Having a friend like him would be a nice change of pace. Having a friend at all would be a welcomed change. Unless...
Anne's smile faltered again as the realization hit her. Anyone she spoke to could be under the employment of George. He didn't know where she was and he couldn't have any idea what alias she was living under nowadays, but he had the power and resources to search for her. Benjamin, as kind and earnest as he seemed, could very well be a spy under Lord Chervil's charge. She let her eyes fall over Ben again, taking in his appearance as nonchalantly as she could. George was unlikely to hire a foreigner to do his bidding, but that didn't mean it was impossible. He was the type of man to use anything at his disposal, even if it meant paying a poor soldier to find the woman who ruined his life.
The thought strikes her as both reasonable and unfair. She had a feeling she might find a solid companionship in someone like Ben, and yet she knew that extending any sort of branch into the world was a risk. Even if he wasn't a spy for the Chervil family, being friends with Anne would put him in harm's way if George were to ever pinpoint her location in London. This man, this romantic and strange foreigner with beautiful eyes would be in the crossfire of George Chervil and his search for vengeance. And she refused to ruin anyone else's life.
"I'll have to think on it." She reaches out to shake his hand, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she tries to push through the fear. As convincingly as she can, Anne adorns her mask of playfulness, hoping he didn't notice the rising sense of dread in her heart. She wanted to be friends with him, but was her loneliness more important than his safety? As lonely as she often felt, she didn't think it was enough to risk someone's life. Not when that someone was Ben.
"I, uh, I should probably get back to my errands. Hopefully I've proved my capabilities of travelling without a chaperone. You, um... You have a good day, Mister Tallmadge. Perhaps I'll see you around."
Offensive? Unfit to be married?
All too soon, Benjamin's smile faded as genuine alarm set in. "What? I...n-no, you misunderstand me..." Trailing off, he caught the impish curve of Anne's smile and realized she must be teasing him.
Barely suppressing a snort, he grinned and rolled his eyes. "I really need to stop falling for that. My students can't pull the wool over my eyes, but apparently, I'm quite gullible when it comes to a pretty face. It's a common and tragic flaw in menfolk, I'm afraid."
Anne brought up favoring Shakespeare, and slowly, a wry smirk lifted the corner of Benjamin's mouth. "Ah. So now you're copying me, are you?" he teased. "I'll have you know, my family had a barn cat named Puck, so naturally, I have to keep commending you for your excellent taste. We also had a goat named Archibald, but I'm afraid I didn't name him after any literary masterpieces -- just a local, perpetually hungry gundiguts by the same name."
Despite his quips, a notable pall befell the air, and the incandescent spark faded from Anne's eyes, much like a candle being snuffed. "I suppose that is one of the reasons I adore little Frances so much," she murmured. "Her affinity for whimsy reminds me of my own childhood. I can only hope her life turns out better than my own."
Benjamin hesitated. Although many had borne their hearts to him during his lifetime -- friends, students, and even perfect strangers -- this somehow felt different. Perhaps it was because this time around, he was overcome by an odd sense of kinship with a woman he barely even knew.
Regret colored his features and he offered a feeble smile. "Naturally, I don't know what you consider 'better,'" he treaded, "but I can already tell that you're wise and accomplished, and have lived handsomely since you've experienced love. To have someone to cherish -- even children who are not your own -- means your life can never be empty." Awkwardly, he extended his hand in an offered shake. "And now you have my friendship, too...should you choose to accept it."
I just wanna hold Hyunjin's hand and call him baby and play with his hair and tell him I love him 🥺
Strength - Hongjoong
Member: Hongjoong
Genre: Comfort? Fluff?
Word Count: idk a lot.
Content: I had a lot of things going in my personal life so this happened. To those who have requested a fic from me, please wait patiently. I’ve been doing them I promise ;; it’s okay to reblog this.
Hongjoong finds himself unable to go back to sleep. Even if he tries to lay on his side, or his stomach, he didn’t feel any ounce of sleep again. He didn’t want to disrupt Seonghwa’s sleep so he pushed himself out of bed and figured that a glass of water could help him go back to sleep.
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Guess who is ever so slightly tipsy and is now in a sad mood cuz she saw B’s stories (cue the picture)
And started imagining herself with B and him smiling at her and laughing at her cute little drunk self wow😪😪🙋🏻♀️
I woke up..
I woke up feeling empty today. I was doing just fine, the last few weeks have been JUST FINE! I don't know if ill be okay. I tell myself, this feeling will pass- please please please don't cry! It feels so overwhelming. Like I'm drowning. But its ok, because.. I woke up today.
source - pinterest 📌
anyone else just… vent in drafts orrrrr 😜
When Lykke Li said,
"sadness is my boyfriend. oh sadness, I'm your girl."
OH. oh..
Tilly told her children that she was an outlaw, every night before they went to bed. In her own way.
They adored the tales of young, brave Matilda who ran with an infamous gang led by the notorious, charming Tacitus Kilgore. They pulled their blankets tightly around their shoulders and watched with widening eyes as their mother described wagon chases, the smell of a freshly shot pistol, the mud and the heat and the endless sky.
"But what happened to Tacitus, Mama? Where did he go?"
The same question, every night. Tilly would smile, and shake her head, and promise that the story was far from over. Be good, she'd say, and tomorrow you'll hear about how Tacitus and Matilda rustled a whole herd of cattle in the dead of night. Be good, be good, be dear, sweet boys.
The newspaper was a dagger in her gut. It pushed its way into her flesh, slowly, delightedly, as she continued to eat her eggs and toast and fresh strawberries from the garden. Her husband asked her if she was quite alright and she nodded too quickly, too desperately. He watched her for a time, before looking away and leaving her to whatever it was she couldn't tell him yet. She had told him plenty, but not all. He knew. He loved her evermore for it.
Tilly carried the newspaper with her all day, up and down the hallways and in and out of the nursery. She read it again and again, her teeth clenched, her knuckles white.
He was dead, finally dead. The man who raised her. The man she lost. The man she hated and loved and grieved for every time she saw a sunset. The man who first laid eyes on a terrified child and saw everything she could be.
Death had found him after all.
And if he couldn't outrun it, nobody could.
Tilly carefully cut on the article and placed it in the back of Leslie Dupont's first novel.
That night, her children sipped warm milk, like they always did. And Tilly stroked their heads, like she always did. And like they always did, they asked her what happened to Tacticus Kilgore.
"Another time, my loves. Not now, not yet."
Math Sucks Ass
I had to drop advanced functions because my mid-term grade was shit and I would have had to submit that mark for uni applications. I don’t know if I should be happy that I don’t have to worry about math anymore or sad that I wasted half of the fucking semester doing it.
I cried to my English teacher today… this is so fucking embarrassing.
cuz sometimes I look in his eyes and that’s where I find a glimpse of us
and I try to fall for his touch but I’m thinking of the way it was
said I’m fine and said I moved on
im only here passing time in his arms
hoping I’ll find a glimpse of us
THE VOID
Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader
saw an edit of alicent with static by steve lacy and got inspired . “hope u find peace for yourself”
you’ve known anthony since you were fourteen, back then you used to fawn over him but he only saw you as elosie’s best friend but that all changed when you had been named the diamond of the season, he now saw you as a potential match. a potential bride.
eloise told you how much she hated that you and anthony were courting. she told you that she’d never speak to you again if you married anthony, so you were acting dumb so he wouldn’t be interested but when your father caught on to your scheme he beat you for how you acted in front of anthony.
so to avoid anymore punishment you acted on your best behavior. anthony danced with you thrice and promenaded with you a couple times and that was enough for him to propose. after he asked your father for your hand, he asked you in front of both of your families. in front of his mother and his siblings and your father and uncle. you said yes because you knew if you said no your father would be livid.
you’re only eighteen years old and he is one and thirty so you didn’t really have much in common other than you both liked to read and you both hated losing in pall mall but he was decent to you. he gave you a huge allowance so you’d go shopping if you got bored.which was very often. after your honeymoon you took up the role of the lady in the house, dowager bridgerton moved to another home close by with eloise, francesca and gregory. though you and anthony told them that they could stay they left to give you guys space. well almost everyone.
hyacinth stayed because she “liked the room she has already and she had no need to move”. so it was the three of you most of the time, she became kind of like a friend to you even tho she was only twelve. you wouldn’t call yourself her mother figure because she already had a great mother who was only a few houses down but you knew she looked up to you. you and hyacinth would go gown shopping and would go for strolls in the park. that was the only time you felt joy. anthony would barely speak to you. you didn’t share a room with him. you two would only have sex twice every month so you could try to produce heirs.
dinners were quite. silence only broke if hyacinth spoke. after a while you gave birth to edmund jack bridgerton, so your days were less boring. you’d spend most days with baby edmund and hyacinth. once in a while daphne and violet would visit you. eloise would only speak to you if it was necessary. she called you “lady bridgerton” or “viscountess bridgerton”. most days you cried yourself to sleep.
you felt empty. you missed the girl you used to be. lady y/n was free and fun whilst viscountess bridgerton was a bore and trapped. you had finally had enough when lady whistledown called you a broodmare. a horse who’s only purpose was to breed. you were hurt because it was true.