#true feels

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

I just want them to love me. Why can a girl not have more than one lover. Am i too much greedy . Did i do something wrong? With all the signs the angels were sending me i don't think i got wrong anywhere. Why can't I be with them. Why do i have a barrier between me and them . This barrier of Different Universe. I just want to feel love. Want to know how it feels. How many more huh!?. Just how many more people I'll have to kill?!?!............Is this not enough?

[etal-late]

Happy Birthday @lion-from-the-north! I am glad you are in this stupid world. Here are some of my favourite moments from your fics.

“Thanks,” Timmy mumbled. He sat for a few minutes longer before he opened the door a crack, just enough to reach through and grab his stuff. Armie had picked out a green checkered shirt and some grey jeans, his thickest socks with the red stripe around the ankle, navy blue boxers. Timmy gulped. The thought of Armie touching something that would then be touching him, touching him there . It was such a small, insignificant thing, but it made his cheeks burn. He pinched his arm hard. Fucking stop it. It’s You

“I love you,” Timmy's voice was muffled. “A lot.” Armie let him go and averted his eyes, smiling sadly at the carpet. “You probably shouldn't.” “Too late,” Timmy said quietly. Restricted View

They sat, panting and staring at each other until their hearts slowed to a normal rhythm. “I won,” Timmy said, shuffling out of Armie's lap and kicking his shorts off. “No, you didn't,” Armie cleaned himself up with a tissue, offered Timmy the box. Timmy shook his head. He peeled his boxers down his legs, wiped the end of his dick with them, and dropped them onto Armie's desk. “Yes, I did. I didn't touch your cock,” he put his shirt back on. “Semantics,” Armie straightened his tie. “You've got jizz on my stapler.”- Reach Out and Touch

Timmy wasn't even surprised to see Armie standing in front of him, snow in his hair, his cheeks pink from the cold. He looked at Timmy like he was everything. In the end, they were always going to find each other. In Summer We Can Taste The Rain

[gnotknormal]

You ever looking through a blog like haha this blog is amazing it's exactly the kind of stuff I'm interested in and then you look up to see who's blog it is and it's yours?

[biaspace13]

[juniiipurrr]

I’ve never been phased by someone. Not even my celebrity crush. Not even the boy who I thought made me feel so crazy when I was a teenager. Not even the boy I dated on and off for four years. But you… you, turn me into mush. You make me nervous. You make me so anxious but excited to talk to you. You make me go fucking speechless when I always have those witty words to say. My extrovert attitude ties up in a knot, just like how you make my stomach feel. See? Do you see that? You made me clichè. You see I’ve never been phased by anyone, until I met you who I barely know.

My heart needs to stop beating so hard

[karatekamikaze]

Gonna make, gonna make, gonna make your body wet Gonna make, gonna make your body scream out yes Gonna make, gonna make you think of naughty things Like me on you and you on me What's it gonna be Gonna make, gonna make, gonna make your body wet Gonna make, gonna make your body scream out yes Gonna make, gonna make your body cream, make you have wet dreams What's it gonna be

[kuya-j96]

Strings Attatched

We began as ukulele strings. They would sing as I attempted to. We lived on good vibes, happy times, and musical devices. And though my proficiency was lacking, I somehow managed to woo you.

We soon became red threads tied on our fingers. Believing that it was fate that brought us together, we hoped that those fates would also keep us together. I tied mine like a shoelace, double knotted just in case.

But those fates couldn’t keep us in the same place so we became telephone lines and Ethernet cables. Hearing your vocal cords vibrate kept me at ease. Pixels illustrated us.

I thought we were high tension wires and we could keep our Golden Gate Bridge upright. Little did I know that instead, you would turn me into separated sinews of heart strings that were played meticulously, more so than I on the uke.

I tried to pull you back in like a kid playing tug of war but there was nobody else on the end of the rope and I fell. Only once in my life I have ever thought that that rope would be more useful around my neck than anywhere else but I kept going.

My birthday soon came and as the wick was lit, I knew what I wanted to wish for. It couldn’t fit inside a box and a ribbon.

Becoming a stringless puppet, I layed there for the longest time, hoping somebody would fix me. Hoping that those delicate hands could hover over me again.

And then she came along, short yet sharp. It somehow made me realize that all this time, all I needed was a pair of scissors.