Man, be serious…
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YOU ARE THE REASON
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@sikvrios
Man, be serious…
I like her.
… but I have a particular tenderness for you, and one I have never felt for anyone, up to now.
George Sand, in a letter to Gustave Flaubert, 11 November, 1866
I can take care of myself.
they made you into a weapon and told you to find peace
unfinished poems iii // s.z
[ me, incapable of grammar at 5 am vc ] imma make moodboards only for patty and is connections xoxoxoxoxo 2/4
wolfgang.
The older had learned to keep his expectations low ; not only in regards of the other, but with the entirety of his existence. The world was what it was, and he wasn’t to expect anything more. Same went with ZIBA. So when she spoke, revealing a part of herself he’d previously been unfamiliar with – his loquacious nature came to a halt. Instead, he listened intently. As if it was the last thing she’d ever confess, as if it was the singular moment of insight he’d ever receive. Wolfgang knew of her apathy, and he knew of her RELUCTANCE to talk about family – but he didn’t know this. Though, if her confession had been a tactic to scare him off; it wasn’t working. If anything, it had the opposite effect. SIX MONTHS AGO; they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Granted, it usually took less time for others to open up. But, it was something. And if that’s all he was given ? He’d take it without second thought. Though it wasn’t all. Because she offered more than he’d HOPE for ; words of reassurance that there was more. To them. SHE CARED. And it wasn’t just a result of Wolfgang’s guesses, anymore. No, it was spoken aloud. A vocal confession to him meaning SOMETHING.
And though his own emotions reached beyond platonic, it was enough. For them, for him–– for whatever the hell would happen. Allowing her to finish, the male took a moment before replacing the silence with a poorly prepared monologue. Truth be told, he never expected the conversation to come this far. ‘ All that I want… ’ The brunet paused, as if he could say too much. More than what had already been said. ‘ is you. It’s that simple, alright ? And even if this is a big fucking MESS ; it’s always going to be that simple. You can try & push me away, –– which… you kind of already have in the past –– but I’m still here. The odds might be one in the god damn million, but I don’t care. The freakin’ zombie apocalypse probably had worse, and I mean –– LOOK where we are now ! I’m not… trying to PRESSURE you, okay ? But after everything that we’ve been through, you kind of just have to know – that me ? I’m not going anywhere. I’m always going to be here; in whatever way you want me to be. I’m not gonna RUN OFF because it’s not gonna be “ NORMAL. ” ‘Cause nothing ever is ! Least of all now. Least of all with us. ’
she became a spectator of her own life ; for an ephemeral, fleeting moment, ziba took up the role of a bystander----- a mere viewer. it’s not the first time she’s been an observer of two individuals’ limerence state, and from a SAFE DISTANCE, it wasn’t an experience she had longed to undergo. the sole fact of not being in an absolute control of oneself was nerve-racking as it was, and now she was witnessing herself go MUTE. ziba had never been a woman of many words ; her interactions had a starting point, a broadcast message & a finish line ; concise, direct, with no time to waste. there were some exceptions to the rule, however ( as always. al-freaking-ways ) ; moments in which she’d opt for wordless exchange as dignifying the utter BULLSHIT some tended to put her through was not worth the time of the day. but now? she was SPEECHLESS ; & not by choice. now? it was... bizarrely fuzzy.
and she didn’t like it.
his words served as nothing but further proof of how LOVE, the mechanics of it, was one of the strangest human behaviors, & how its nature was the hardest to comprehend for her. once more, keeping her distance ; running away, even ; was the more tempting option she had in her cards, but, as proven times & times before, the brunette was somehow tied to him by a nonbreakable string that unable her to stray too far from him. it was something, again, beyond her control ; it punched at her stomach & left her nauseous----- but, incredibly enough, it also soothed her. it was OVERWHELMING, to say the least, too much ; all at once. ❛ i... should go. ❜ she said, swallowing an entanglement of words without meaning, letting the silence fill the gaps briefly as she realized she needed an OUT. just----- momentarily. nothing definite. slim fingers racked through mocha locks, sliding down her head & stopping in the crook of her neck. ❛ but, uhm... ❜ stepping forward with a slightly tilted head, her eyes found his, sucking in her lower lip. ❛ ---- to answer your question ; one of your many, many very annoying questions----- i’ll drop by later. ❜ shooting an eyebrow up as something resembling a smile, but not quite, plastered on delicate features, she continued, ❛ maybe you’ll jolt down the talk & up the action. ❜
Here are the women with ancient anger in their veins and the cruelty of a goddess in their hearts. You will beg before her, you will scream; but Hera never flinched from the words of a mortal, so why should she? Do not stand in her way. She will burn down your kingdoms, herself with it, if it meant your ruin.
Medea /// (d.s)
I see you everywhere, in the stars, deep in the river, to me you’re everything that exists; the reality of everything.
Virginia Woolf, Night and Day (via thelovejournals)
You fucking bitch!
i’m sorry darling, i never meant to love you; to love you like i do— like a hungry thing that’s always eating. and i’m sorry i have claws claws and teeth and jaws glass shards and broken ribs; all these sharp things that are craving you.
a love like starvation | m.a.w
#same