30 7 / 2014
It might seem silly but in truth, you’re always on my mind.
You take over my every thought in ways I cannot define.
I have this yearning of wanting to share my life experiences with you.
Every time holding my tongue, with the reason being because…
It hurts with the rejection of your eyes casting away, turning down my invitations, like spending time with me is a pain.
I know, I understand that I’m not who you want.
Telling myself every day is the confliction I face.
She made you happy and that’s something you want back. Who am I to want to stand in the way of that?
Do I wish I’d never met you? Or there was never a spark?
Probably, maybe, I don’t know. You can’t ask me that.
It’s better that I do this, because I can’t talk to you.
You make me come off as self centered and my words are misconstrued.
I’ve always been hiding myself, I will let you know. People judge me quickly and make me seem shallow.
I have a life and hobbies, but they dim in comparison to you. Sometimes, you meet someone who…
Makes you smile even without giving a try.
Gets your opinions and has the same,
Being constructive without lashing blame.
Don’t make silent moments awkwardly so.
Appreciate the small things just as you do.
…there’s always the catch of being in a kingdom of isolation; feels like I’m the queen.
I thought holding on was an option. If you look and see through me, what chance do I have?
I ask myself often, why jump in from the start?
I got the impression you were ready, hiding your healing heart.
It’s now inked into my body because I allowed it to. ‘Rebound’ being the class I fit into.
Maybe, sadly, I can accept.
It wasn’t really you.
25 7 / 2014
””“”“why did you cut your hair?::”“”“” i cut my hair to piss you off. specifially you, i was thinking of you when i cut my hair. i was thinking that you, specifically, would be interested in what my newly short hair meant to you, specifically.
25 7 / 2014
It’s not something I concluded would ever cause me to break, but it has, quite forcefully, shattered my insides.
This thing in my chest has somehow gotten accustomed to you, against my better judgment. It’s hard to control how it makes me feel, say or react.
I was never a demonstrator, showcasing my emotions like art at a gallery of heartbreak. Like the pieces they take on their own life, as we have ours.
Intention is not something you control; its shaped by circumstance. The things that make a pivotal impression leading you to that point of belief.
It’s as controllable as trying not to drown while navigating the waters of self doubt and blame.
Failure can be such a crushing epiphany in life.
I do hold myself responsible for every assumption I’ve ever made, being a driving force in pushing you away.
Connections are always broken quite wickedly, like the snapping of a neck.
It sputters and sparks like an old engine, unable to restart.
You might say I feel too much, or hold on way too tight. Take apart my every fiber, you’ll see it weaves me up inside.
If you got to really know me you’d get that your time is all I request.
If you’d want to talk, I’d be your safety net.
I’d take you when you’re angry, when you want to vent, when frustration eats you up inside and you feel spent.
At the start you said, ” I don’t expect you to wait.” I can be quite patient, once you verbally reciprocate.
I miss you because of what was, back in January. More now because you’ve made the decision to let go without telling me.
Or maybe I’m overshooting myself past being a distraction you’ve outgrown. A fleeting want your body would have known.
At times I say it’s one of them, the She you had before. I won’t measure up, may not be who you truly want.
My acceptance has settled in, like fog over a silent night. You still waver at the edge of my consciousness, giving me a fright.
I wasn’t supposed to but do I really want to feel?
This wasn’t done quick and easy as we thought.
You’ll learn to heal, they always say. Well, that’s a pack of shit. I feel as raw as a slab of meat, being freshly procured.
Damn it! Looks like I’ve drowned.
Please, say it ain’t so.
23 7 / 2014
forever-mermaid said: Could you rec any new FWB fics? I've read all the ones in the tag now, thank you in advance!!
i can and will (love your icon omg :) & >;C )
"I think it’s time to admit that I have this bizarre, weird, twisted thing for your dick."
After Stiles’ best friend moves out of the apartment the two of them have shared for the last five years and into his own in a different city with his fiancee, Stiles is in desperate need of a new roommate. After a dinner with the Hale family, Stiles finally has a new roommate. The only problem is that he seems to hate Stiles’ guts.
When Derek comes to Stiles with a confession that he has trust issues that make any sex life impossible, he offers Stiles a mutually beneficial proposal:
They are close friends who trust each other explicitly, therefore, they can have sex with each other and take care of both his intimacy issues and Stiles’s ‘virginity’ issue all in one no-strings-attached deal.
Derek and Stiles are comfortable with their arrangement… It’s everybody else that is waiting for their friendship to be damaged beyond repair.
"You really like like him, don’t you?”
Stiles wrinkles his nose, “God, what are you, twelve? I don’t like like him. We sleep together sometimes and I studied on his couch for a few hours once. That’s it.”
"You should tell him you have feelings for him," Scott continues, blatantly ignoring what Stiles is saying. "It’ll probably solve a whole lot of problems. Then you can just sleep together and hang out while not sleeping together without it being awkward. Also, I won’t have to listen to months of your moping."
(Or: Stiles is a grad student who spends far too much money on coffee at Derek’s shop. They also fuck occasionally.)
Stiles is not, by nature, a liar.
It’s not a perfect arrangement. Lydia still sets Derek up every month and she somehow does it on the nights that Stiles just needs Derek to be on top of him. And Derek doesn’t say anything when it happens, but he wrinkles his nose anytime Stiles shows up after a one-night-stand with someone who isn’t him.