#about the author

Hi everyone!

Yes, I’m still alive.

I want to apologize because I never disappeared for so long without saying anything before. 

It’s not like I gave up on writing or anything, but lately I’m really having a hard time. I’m studying abroad, I have things to prepare to graduate and, most of all, my mental health hasn’t been great. I’ve been struggling a lot to do everything right, go on and try to make the most of everything… but I’m incredibly tired. Stressed. Sad. Worn Out.

Writing has become difficult, even though I’ve received such a kind support. Part of it is that lately Tumblr kinda stresses me out in general and I’m trying to take care of myself; moreover, I let so many requests accumulate in my askbox that now everytime I try to write something I feel very anxious and pressured and just… I don’t know, I can’t write when I feel like that. I’m sorry,I truly don’t know how to apologize to all the people who have sent me beautiful, interesting asks.

I really hope to get better soon or to find more time to write, I have been trying really hard to get better and, even if I can’t make any promise, I really hope to be able to come back and write soon. I miss posting my stories and things for you.

Thank you for the like, reblogs, beautiful tags and everything you left me. Thank you for the support, I’ll do my best.

Have a wonderful day <3

About the Author

Cheyenne R. Stoddard is a young author born in 1996. She is from a small town in Ohio. Her series Helpless has been in the works for almost nine years. Before publishing, she only shared her work with those closest to her. Cheyenne had her first child when she was eighteen. She didn’t have the money or the time for college. She wanted to be with her son full time. Cheyenne then chose to work on and develop her writing on her own at her own pace. She excels in fiction and supernatural. Her series contains a massive amount of inclusion and topics some find difficult to discuss. She has a character for anyone and everyone. Cheyenne loves to research and study mythology and demonology. Both of which are included in her adventurous four book series. She’s a proud mother of three and a proud writer. With the love and support of her fiance, Cheyenne has finally released her years of work.

I admit I used to post more of this kind of shit before Discord. I love how Discord is where friends are and I can just talk about things all the time. but I know, for twenty years now, I’ve always had an online journal and it’s been useful primarily for me to look back at my life and what’s going on, and sometimes I realize Discord’s not gonna do that for me, i can search the archives of conversations as long as I’m still in that server but it’s not the same thing.

anyway here are two random photos I took this morning, archived here as a little slice of life.

one:

[img: two rubbermaid containers on a countertop in a store, with display racks visible beyond in the distance]

This is a huge order i have spent most of the last two weeks working on; the pink rubbermaid on top contains 11 VHS tapes, and the blue one underneath had about 25 3″ Super-8 reels.

This family now has all their memories digitized.

Now I’m working on another order, 19 VHS tapes, and I am doing my best but it won’t be done before I leave for the farm so I’ll have to come back to it.

and 2:

[image: looking down at my own lap. A pair of legs in nearly-knee-high socks striped horizontally with blue, purple, and pink stripes like a bi pride flag, ending in feet wearing brown ankle boots; bare knees above, pink and untanned and slightly hairy, and the hem of a blue skirt, sprawled out over a grimy industrial carpet under a vintage metal desk.]

it is Spring, officially, and yesterday I wore the leggings I’ve been wearing all winter and sweated my ass off. I think the climate control in this building is broken, the heat didn’t work for most of April and now it’s airless and stuffy and I don’t think the A/C works either. Cool.

Anyway not feeling super positive about my fashion choices but as usual i dressed in the dark from whatever was in the room I can access, so. I should dig out literally any other pair of shoes but it was this or the rose gold metallic Birkenstocks and I wasn’t feeling rose gold. God what would it even be like to have like. Fashion sense and a wardrobe instead of a collection of things that came in my size so I bought them. Ha!

This afternoon I have a meeting with a kitchen remodel company to talk about redoing our kitchen. I am desperately trying to exercise an opinion about this, as I should care deeply, but am so burned-out that the very idea of making a decision is very nearly giving me hives. But my god we could have a dishwasher. I just need to hang on to this idea. God she asked us for “inspo pics” and I actually read an article on kitchen remodels of 2022 by Southern Living magazine and was so viscerally repulsed by every single contradictory tip they mentioned that I can’t bring myself to do any further research for this.

Here’s what I got:

1) standard size appliances. nothing custom. nothing custom whatsoever. anything that breaks, i want to be able to rip it out and put something else in there, because it’s a size everything comes in.

2) nothing built-in. sink gets fucked-up or stained? comes out of a standard-sized hole and I put a new one in. bada-boom. fuck built-ins.

3) pot rack or something, I have my cast iron stacked on a fucking shelf and it’s the fucking pits, I will not do that, give me a fucking hook to hang it on this is garbage.

4)fuck minimalism I just want somewhere to put my shit and fuck your ADHD advice I deserve to own things if i want them, I have a collection of kitchen items I actually use and I will not be discarding any of those things nor will I be hiding them for aesthetic reasons, but equally I do want to have counter space I can actually use to work upon, so I need places for my shittogo

5)fuck maximalism i do not care that chintz is briefly in fashion again, I want solid bright colors and ok shit can coordinate but I’m not buying all new shit just so it’s matchy and by God I do not have room for purely decorative pieces of furniture (this was the part of the Southern Living article where I lost my mind, they legit recommended putting in antique furniture for purely decorative purposes and i was like but actually why)

6) nothing is gonna be white or gray unless that’s literally the only color it comes in

7) cabinet hardware needs to either be radially symmetrical *or* fastened in two places, ask me how i thought of that one

8) can I have cabinets not made of plastic? do they make those? or will they cost more than my house is currently worth in which case maybe i will have to make my peace with plastic…

9)fuck stone countertops I have never seen one I did not hate, I want something that water and heat won’t damage but also one that won’t fucking obliterate me if I bump into it, do they still make those?

10) i guess i did have a lot of opinions. idk. someone please help me replace the falling-apart not very big picture window in the east wall of my kitchen with something nicer. please be gentle with me about the price. it will be a lot. i am cautiously aware of this but probably will cry anyway.

A long-awaited post of progress photos.

Starting with the most recent, and then i’m putting the long thing behind a cut:

[image description: interior of the cabin, looking down from the sleeping loft at the expanse of the roof rafters and the floor below, where a door in the south wall, newly installed, stands propped open.]

I should tell the whole story. So in like…. what was it… October or November of 2019 I had the yurt I had been sleeping in during the summers for 3 years on my sister’s farm burn down due to a chimney failure with my woodstove. Plans began somewhat immediately to build a tiny house to replace it, and I’d found some free plans and my dad was plotting with me to use salvaged materials and such. The house was going to be really tiny, like 10x12 feet or so, with a tiny sleeping loft, and somewhat ramshackle probably; I’m sure we weren’t going to insulate it.

Then the pandemic hit, and shit got weird, and no progress was made. I spent 2020 sleeping in my sister’s guest room whenever I was at the farm, since nobody else could visit anyway. And then my father died suddenly, in December of 2020, and it seemed silly to mourn the concept of the tiny house, but I was also really grieving the experience of doing a project with my Dad, which i’d really been looking forward to– my nephews were both old enough that he was starting to teach them welding and such, and I’d thought the boys and Dad and me could spend some time on this and would have a good time and just– it was really awful to realize that of course now it’ll never happen.

Without me saying anything, my brother-in-law, the one who owns the farm with Farmsister, on whose property all of this was supposed to have taken place, approached me and said we could still build a house, and that he’d help instead. He has construction experience, but is so busy I hadn’t wanted to expect his help except for maybe some of the big work. But he said no, he’d step in.

In March of 2021 we took a family trip– me, BIL, Mom, my older sister, and one of her sons– to Jamaica, VT, where the Jamaica Cottage Shop has its fabrication yard. We looked at an example and I decided to buy their Vermont Cottage plans, in view C, for the 16x24 size.

Yeah, it’s a far cry from the tiny shack I’d planned to build, but I had resolved that if i was going to involve BIL, it was going to be something that was nominally up to code, built with new materials, and would be usable for decades, rather than some weird fun little project that would be full of spiders and eccentricity. The increase in cost wasn’t that much with the increase in size (once i committed to using new rather than salvaged materials), so I went for it.

Immediately we had to revise the plans, but BIL was confident. In May I bought the first lumber, to build the skids, and along with it, a battery-operated electric nail gun. We built the skids, and also excavated the site, and backfilled it with gravel sourced from a natural gravel deposit on the farm; I also spent the summer picking buckets of rocks out of the fields and hauling them over a few at a time. I probably moved about 1 ton of rocks by hand, and then BIL carried over about 15 more tons with the tractor.

I ordered several thousand dollars’ worth of supplies, lumber and others. The insulation and windows and doors and the like were stashed in a spot that flooded in July, when a flash flood caused a large amount of damage to the farm, but nothing was lost. In August we finally got the skids set and began to assemble the platform upon which the whole thing was going to be built.

[image description: a grid of lumber sits atop cinder blocks in a cleared space among greenery, with trees in the background.]

We were delayed by a labor shortage on the farm, but mostly by a delay in the delivery of the lumber from the mill I’d ordered it from, a local place that had apparently not adequately maintained their equipment and so was shut down for weeks at a time for maintenance.

But eventually we had everything. And at the end of September, my other brother-in-law showed up, with a lot of woodworking and finish carpentry experience, and also some free time, and with him working steadily for a week, and a number of assorted characters rotating through, we made rapid progress.

[image: farm-BIL, a tall thin white man in a khaki baseball cap, kneels on a wooden platform, screwing down a sheet of plywood. To his right stands Army BIL, a well-built white man in a camoflage baseball cap, hands on hips, looking up at the skyline, atop the plywood-sheathed platform.]

In a matter of days, Army-BIL had done the rough framing, and had started putting in the interior wall siding. (The cabin is constructed inside-out, with the framing, then the interior siding, then rough 2x4 nailers, then insulated wallboard, and only then a final moisture barrier with rough board-and-batten siding overtop.)

[image description: the rough-framed walls of a house stand, the nearest one faced with tongue-and-groove interiorsiding with a window and door cut out, and inside on a scaffold stands a boy in a blue t-shirt (my older nephew, then 12), holding up a pair of rafters in their approximate rough final places, while Army-BIL stands on a ladder making measurements inside the house.]

By the end of the last week of September, my older sister’s sons and husband had, with some help from various of the rest of us, framed in the rafters as well.

[image: my older sister, a tall thin white woman in a dark gray ballcap worn very low over her face what are you doing, stands holding several boards; to her left, her husband affixes the other end of one of the boards to another rafter. Below her, two boys in blue shirts, her sons, are climbing on the scaffolding.]

And there progress halted for the winter, but for some incremental improvements– I stapled hardware cloth around the base of the platform, burying the bottom of the hardware cloth as deep as I could manage to deter groundhogs, rats, mice, or raccoons from making their home under the house, and we got the rafters done and then secured big billboard tarps over them for the winter.

In March, we took the tarps back off, and it looked like this.

[image description: looking into the house from the east, sun shining brightly, rafters highlighted against blue sky, the walls are all covered in the interior siding of pine, and there’s a scaffolding inside still set up.]

We got the nailers on all around the lower storey, and slotted the insulation panels in– I discovered that I had just the tool for the job to cut the panels, since they’re too thick for utility knives– yes, that lady’s leg shaped knife I got for my birthday. Worked like a charm, am delighted. Once that was up, we could wrap the whole house in moisture barrier– well, most of it, just not the part above the deck, which we’d have to work on separately.

[img description: the house from one corner, showing silver-colored panels labeled DuPont wedged in among the wooden nailers surrounding the windows.]

The roof needed a layer of sheathing, and Dude helped me with that. i found out he hates ladders, which i somehow had never learned thusfar in 19 years with him. Now I Know. Mostly, though, BIL did all that work, and in one uncomfortably epic day we finished the roof sheathing and then drafted my sister into helping us put the rubber Tyvek roofing underlayment over the top of it. The loft was still not enclosed, but we’d framed in the window, and so we left the underlayment long and stapled it down over that missing half-wall, to make the whole shebang weatherproof.

Then we got the door on that side installed, and it was largely weatherproof.

[image description: the porch side of the house, with green Tyvek strips messily stapled down at angles, in the upper part, and then on the lower floor a white steel door with a window sits, not quite closed, with no doorknob.] We installed a doorknob too, because otherwise the door wouldn’t stay closed.

In April we came back and pulled up the Tyvek, trimmed it off, and put the interior siding up on the upper storey. Once we had that, we installed all the windows– well, the 7 downstairs windows, and then later in the week we managed to get the upper storey window installed too.

[img description: from the interior of the house, with the loft foreshortened so you can’t tell it’s a loft, farm-BIL is visible with his legs, standing on a ladder, showing through the open doorway and his head and shoulders through the window he’s installing in the upper storey. The roof is visibly made of sheathing boards, the gaps between them illuminated green where the roofing underlayment is on the outside of the sheathing.]

Farmsister and I came and fixed that upper storey window so it’s a bit straighter, once we got the housewrap on and correct. it’s tricky because what do you level it to?? Hard to say. Anyway. It’s in there.

We got the second door installed too, in the south-facing wall. And that’s where we’ve left it– still needs the metal roof on the exterior, and the insulation and interior siding on the ceiling on the interior; still needs soffits put in, as the eaves are open to the elements and the breeze (and bugs) can sorta whistle through there at will; still needs a floor installed over the rough plywood subflooring; still needs conduit put in for what plumbing and electrical there may or may not be. But as it is, I’m going to see about at least building myself a sleeping nest in the loft; I don’t want to move furniture in, since it still needs to have scaffolding put up for the ceiling and the more I move in now the more I have to move out later, but the loft is largely done and move-in-ready enough to be getting on with.

(I may need a mosquito net, if I spend any time in there.)

I leave you with a view from the loft.

[image description: in the foreground there’s a little corner of the loft floor, but then the rest of the frame is looking out into the house. The south-facing door is propped open with a rock, extra scaffolding is stacked against the west wall, the light is coming green through the roofing underlayment showing in the cracks between the sheathing, and you can see two lovely 3x4-foot windows in the west wall.]

here have a chita being exceptionally cute in a co-napping situation.

(I only lay down for a minute but then her head was upside-down. last night she was asleep in such a way that her head was upside-down in the palm of my hand but i was lying in such a way i couldn’t see let alone photograph it, i just know it was like that because i could feel her ears.)

ridiculous cat.

i am just feeling wretched today and every little wretched bit of wretchedness is only making my more wretched, i am not fit company for man or beast and yet! somehow! i have to be in my own company, this is intolerable

also i have the nagging feeling that i’ve hit that tipping point where my fics are now too long and OC-riddled and poorly-paced and I am now going to have to gently coast my way downward as I did with my weird star wars comicsverse series to wind up as many of my plot points as I can before I finally am too tired to continue alone in the dark, so– i mean– if you were gonna let me know you’re still reading, now’d be a good time, i need a last bit of motivation to get to the exciting wind-up bits of all of it because of course i’ve spent so much time setting shit up for this inevitable payoff… I don’t think I can blame it on a Monday update so much as on all the above things I just mentioned.

I have got to learn fucking pacingy’all.

so the pandemic not only made it so i didn’t leave the house to do things like run errands, it also did the thing where because of the glitch in unemployment i had zero income for… i forget now, but it was like five or six months? which was stressful? anyway i have complained before about how my relationship to like, buying things is totally broken now. but i do need some things. so.

yesterday it was a lovely saturday and i had resolved to Go Forth And Acquire Some Objects. But it struck me that I did not need these objects to be *new*, necessarily. So I went first to a thrift store, and I can report that yes that’s a good way to get inexpensive bedsheets but there were none in the size/thing I needed, so instead I went and picked out like all the unburnt pillar candles off the shelf, for one to two dollars apiece, and also I bought two old water bottles, since for some reason all my decent water bottles have vanished and I’m reusing disposable ones endlessly. Not great. I could have bought some gaudy tablecloths and am not sure why I did not.

Thence to Homegoods, where I spent far too much on new chair cushions, but our dining table chairs are designed to have cushions on them and the ones I bought from Ikea in probably 2006 had started to definitively wear out. I also spent an inordinate amount on a duvet cover, but it was in fact genuinely linen, and I had been wanting that, so now I have a full set of linen sheets just not quite all matching. Whatever.

I did *not* buy any candles there but the one thing I can never resist is going over to the Wall O Socks and buying myself huge multipacks of really squishy socks. My last set of these have largely worn out, so I’m delightedly wearing new socks right now. oh my god. life’s luxuries.

Then we went to Target. (Yeah, we, I’d brought Dude along, and he was actually better at finding things than me. He’s a forager, that one.) I bought two pillows and a bunch of unscented candles– you can get multipacks of plain candles at Target after all, reasonably-priced. Now the cabin can be extensively candle-lit, whether it gets electrificated promptly or not.

That’s more Retail Hell than I’ve experienced in quite some time, so we went the back way home to stop by the liquor store and get gin, which we were out of. I’d previously planned on Snacks For Dinner; we had chip dip with kohlrabi and carrots, and some cheese and cured meats and crackers, though for future reference a proper Snacks Dinner ought to have some fruit or sweet cheeses in it. It was a glorious day, I did literally six loads of laundry and have them all dry and folded from the line (I’d gotten four on the line before we left, and did two more after we got home, including the new duvet cover), and we got slightly high and sat on the couch whispering slightly-unsettling things to one another and eating far too many crackers. (The texture.)

I did not get any writing done. i’ve been up for two hours already today still not getting any writing done. Oh well.

teaboot:

If you didn’t want to be assimilated into my found family then you should have killed me when you had the chance

zekedms:

willowcrowned:

willowcrowned:

Maybe it’s just because I’m Jewish but I do truly believe that life gets ten times better when you learn to complain cheerfully

I think a part of it is that it lets you acknowledge that something sucks, which is actually really good in a culture that wants us to pretend that everything is fine and we’re soldiering through all the time. Like, no, my grocery bag breaking and spilling all over the floor is not fine. I’ve had a long day and I’m really upset and on the verge of tears because I can’t handle one more thing and pretending like it’s fine only means breaking down later.

But if you let yourself complain, if you let yourself swear terribly and creatively, and you stare down at the bruised vegetables like they’ve personally disappointed you, and you make yourself smile because this is really just so, so stupid, you feel a little better. There’s a power to acknowledging that something sucks and making yourself feel better anyways. There’s a power to going “and THEN my bag broke, and it’s like—seriously? my day was bad enough” and doing it with a smile.

You shouldn’t have to pretend things are fine when they aren’t. You shouldn’t have to force yourself to smile through things that make you feel terrible. But if you can make yourself laugh by staring down at some strawberries that have decided to revolt, and give them a lecture on why they’re just terrible, really, and that makes you smile—then maybe that’s a good thing.

I cannot overstate how freeing it can be to simply say “oh fuck off” at the object that falls off your counter of its own volition after you spent 10 minutes preventing items from falling off and breaking on they other side.

OP is so right about the power of laughing at your misfortune.

cannibalpuppy:

you’ve gotta understand i don’t post on here to gain followers i do it to empty my mind ruthlessly each day so i dont go insane . me posting about a character is just me shaking my brain upside down to make sure everything comes out

pmseymourva:

Me when I give out fun facts about my characters:

elytrians:

elytrians:

elytrians:

the joy of annoying and being annoyed by the people you love

they’re so infuriating. you want to beat them senseless just for some peace and quiet. they tell you to cut it out before they leave and never come back, and that’ll show you, and make no attempt to move away. you’re both still smiling despite yourselves. you’re both laughing even as you mime tearing them to pieces with your bare hands. you love them so much you could never truly mean a word of it, and they mercilessly take advantage of this. you know they love you so much that they would never leave you over something as small and silly by comparison as being a little irritating, and you have no problem proving it to them. you know each other’s boundaries well enough to never actually worry that you’re hurting each other. you’re safe, and you revel in it.

“i hate you so much” (affectionate, adoring, the loveliest lie of all)

peaceful-poetry:

“Only moans escaped her locked lips, and I prayed my name would leave her mouth.”

— peaceful-poetry

So, I’ve gotten quite a few new followers thanks to the Space Shanty story. Hi, new followers! Welcome. I don’t post here all that often, but here are a few important things:

Black Lives Matter

Trans Rights are Human Rights

Borders are Immoral

The entire fucking point of living in a society is to take care of one another. A society which will not take care of its most vulnerable is a failedsociety.

The unfollow button is easy to find.

@caffeinewitchcraft wrote a post about barista-ing and I wanted to share a silly time I had:

One of my favourite experiences working as a barista was this one time I was working the front register. We were relatively busy on this day and many of our patrons weren’t native English speakers. For the most part, you could understand everyone.

But, these two guys walked in and they approached the counter. First thing they did was apologize. “We are sorry. We are French. So sorry.”

And for whatever reason, this was hilarious to me and I quite literally started bursting out laughing at the counter whilst telling them that, “It is perfectly okay to be French,” and that I might only need them to repeat themselves about twenty times each.

They did, in fact, have to repeat themselves quite a bit as I have never heard a French accent in person.

pruane2:

Just heard from my doctor they’re gonna have to put me down next week because I fucking suck

magneatio:

i wanna know what everyone’s majors are mutuals i want to know i love you and i’m interested

Sorry I haven’t been around recently! Between spring school, starting a new job and being bed-ridden with sickness, I’ve been behind on tumblr stuff. I’ll get around to it once I can walk the block without needing a break lol.

hjarta:

i love keeping a notebook in my bag whenever i go somewhere. most of the time i don’t even use it but i’m glad it’s there with me for moral support

inkskinned:

i want to be so kind it echoes backwards in time and undoes the things that hurt you. i want to be so kind it radiates from me. i want to be so kind that i make someone else find faith in humanity again. there’s not much i can do, i’m small and weak and i only know so many words. but i know i can be kind. and sometimes, i believe, that changes the world.

klavierpanda:

Shoutout to all the queer folk in STEM. I doubt this is news to anyone but there’s always a lot about theatre gays™ or how ‘all’ queer people’s favourite subject at school was English. Here’s to all the gays who CAN do maths, to all the queer scientists. I love been a queer in stem!

My dear friends and wonderful followers,

How are you all? I’ve missed you so, somuch. I know I disappeared. Again. Without a warning this time. And for fartoo long. And I really am very sorry for going incommunicado out of the blue, and making people worry and not reading your beautiful words or posting any new stories, but, please let me tell you.

These past few months have been freaking wild.

Disclaimer: The story under the cut is long. Feel free to ignore it, but, please, let me tell you I am notleaving Tumblr and willwrite everything I have promised in time. 

Now…

I’m a senior at college this year, so as you can understand, my college life is just one big project after the other. In the past two months, I had to submit four different papers, attend two different workshops as well as a bunch of make-up classes at widely inconvenient hours and I already have two more literary essays to work on along with a literary presentation on Jean Rhys. And because, obviously, I don’t know when or how to stop I am also currently attending eight different online classes because they seemed cool and I reallywanted to add them to my CV *rolls eyes at herself*

I also doubled my hours at the gym. I followed a specific medical treatment that made me gain weight last year, and I’m trying to get my butt back into shape now that I’m meds free. And I loveit. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a bumpy journey filled with burpees and hoursspent on the treadmill (I literallyrun for an hour nonstop,even my CrossFit instructor is impressed, lol), and painful training sessions at CrossFit and Aerobics class, but it has paid off. I’m definitely getting back to my old self and I’ve made so many good friends over these past few months. It’s a win, isn’t it?

Next on the list: Driving lessons. I’ve been putting this off for a longtime (I used to be terrified of getting behind a wheel, to be honest) and I started this September. Granted, my classes are done, but there’s been a strike for the past four months, so I can’t seat the practical exams to get my driving license. Talk about bad timing. *sigh* I think I have mostly forgotten everything I learnt. Anyway, I’m hoping the exams will open sometime in January and I will be able to schedule an examination sometime in April (because there are currently 50000 more people waiting for the exams to restart just like me). Keep your fingers crossed for me, wil you?

A lowkey crush (*spoiler alert* it didn’t end well but I honestly don’t even mind) and the never-ending preparations of traveling to the US because –guess what– I am visiting my sunflower @trexrambling this April took a bunchof my time and energy (no regrets though, I get to hug Jess again *runs around in circles*)

And most importantly. I had to figure out what I’d do with my future. Like I said, I’m finishing off college this year, so I needed to think, long and hard, what direction I wanted to take with my master’s program and whether I’d travel abroad to study starting September 2019 or in 2020. After many anxiously sleepless nights and hours spent researching different academic programs, I think I have a concrete plan of what I will be doing next and I really, reallylove it. Wish me luck?  

Still, as busy as these past few months have been, I am happier than I have been in a while.

I feel so active, so presentin everything that is happening in my life and it’s just heartbreakingly beautiful. I know many of you know I went through a rough patch this autumn (I still can’t thank everyone who reached out enough), but I think I went through what I went through for a good reason. I’m doing good now, I’m going out a lot (I’m feeling such wanderlust, it’s ridiculous) and I smile and laugh even more than I used to. I’m more than okay with that.

However, I domiss writing. A lot.

So, no. I am not going away or giving up Tumblr or anything. I know lots of things have changed since the last time I posted here (Tumblr’s guidelines being one of them), but my intend to share my words with you is the same. 

As promised, I will finish my series rewrite, Against All Odds (it’s actually written, I just have to make some small adjustions) and write the epilogue to Somewhere Only We Know. 

I will write the AU about Italy that’s been in my mind forever. The college AU fake-dating fic based on Take My Hand will also happen as well, but I will have to adjust my outline since it can’t be a Christmas story anymore for *coughs* obviousreasons. Since these two stories will be long, these are my writing plans for now, but I have some more ideas I’m hoping I’ll be able to put into actual words eventually.

And, of course, I want to get back to reading your stories and interacting with all of you. All I’m asking you is to, please, be patient with me. It’s going to take me a while to balance everything, and I still might fall a little behind here, but I will be around. I can’t give up on you, guys.

Anyway. This is what I had to say. To the ones who read all of this, thank you. You have shown me so much love and appreciation and have given me so much joy over these past couple of years I could never, ever thank you enough. 

Here’s to a brilliant,. healthy and wholesome 2019, filled with endless moments of pure joy, infinite happiness and unconditional love.

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