— Nitya Prakash
my dumbass listens to sad music and then my dumbass wonders why i’m sad
creepy groomer i used to work with when i was 17 started texting me again . i think he’s 28 now.
strange? does he not remember how the entire circumstance of which i let him step within the mandated 6 feet during covid was because i liked the attention from older men?
being in my 20’s just means i like them 40 and up now , not guys a mere 6 years older.
i was thinking about making a tinder just to message them and feel a rush but ik that’ll crash and burn so badly. a whole population of men with nothing to lose having a picture of my face and sweet words from me. i can already feel the fear and i’m trying to convince myself it’s a bad fear NOT a good one.
he’s messaged me twice now . just a “hey,” and I wonder what he means. Is it to get my attention , is he hoping I’ve kept the same number , is he scared of saying what he wants. does a shark announce he’s going to tear your limb from your body or does it just unhinge it’s jaw awaiting the moment where it swims close enough to snap shut?
the thing about being replaced is it’s a feeling you deny up until it sits right in front of your face.
once things are clear- and you and everyone- comes to the understanding that someone else is receiving your affection, the moments already passed.
and it sucks.
a lot.
even when she deserves it because she really is that great and lovable.
she’s just better. she laughs louder, her cheeks tinge pink with it. when she does it, she turns towards you and places both hands on your forearm with a gentle grasp. you feel taken when all of her eyes and lips angle themselves towards your being. it makes your chest puff up in a proudness that only someone so great and lovable can make you do.
I’ve never been great or lovable.
I’ve always been told im too rough. my face gets serious in all the wrong moments, and i look at you with a tentative smile instead of something wide and so open to receiving anything you can give.
i have nothing to take. im so full of sadness, so tinged with blue. there’s no more marks on this canvas worth making. the picture so ugly and wide.
she’s a painting of a cloud, always pleasant to look at whether its at high morning or at sunset. all of her at any time is digestible.
and its so unfair, isn’t it? That we have the same colors and you just show them better, you just carry it lighter.
but you deserve that love, i swear it. you were born deserving, grew up deserving. so deserving no one told you different. no one beat you down to ensure you knew you were any less deserving. no one proved it to you the way they did with me.
so when i see you replaced me, I let the moment pass. i let the laughter wash the hurt right out of me.
my favorite sterek fics are the ones where Derek becomes a deputy and works with Stiles’ dad and they become this mini family unit of crime fighters. like sheriff stilinski just wants to support his son and be in his life and that means adopting his grumpy wolfy boyfriend and if looking out for his new family means Derek joins the local police department
,,, well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ we get steamy gun scenes and breakfast with organic pancakes fluff
ABT ME
name ; nvrhere fav things ; myself , writing age ; 22 posting ; teen wolf, supernatural, IWTV , myself , adhd rambles
I looove that Sam is taller than Dean. It calls attention to just how fucked up their dynamic is.
It was cute how he looked up to Dean as a kid. But now that he’s a grown man, still following around his big brother?
It’s a visual reminder that he’s cramming himself into a role he should have outgrown years ago. They both are.
I guess that’s why I like to read so much.
I’m alone a lot, and for the most part I don’t hate it- with my father’s Appalachian genetics I have realized that I am probably better equipped for that than most people. But I also recognize that isolation isn’t beneficial to me as a human, and sometimes I can feel it squeezing me from all sides, my social skills leaking away from the applied pressure. My lips dry out and glue themselves shut. When I’m reading a book I have another person’s voice with me for a week or so, and that can feel like a kind of warmth. As if I have a visitor.