I enjoy writing. It’s my escape from my real life. I can escape from my parents who argue a lot. Its my escape from my dad calling me useless. From my sisters who call me clumsy or stupid. From my friends who don’t invite me to hang out sometimes. Writing makes me feel great because its the one thing family and friends don’t know I do, which makes me happy because its the one thing that they can’t criticize me about or take away from me. Only three of my friends know I write fan-fiction. One of them made a blog to read my stories, the second one said she would make one to just read my work, the third has just read my work and said it was great. That was a boost for me.
So knowing that some of you actually like to read my stories makes me really emotional in a good way. I didn’t think my writing was good at all. I felt I was doing something stupid. And when my mom makes a comment or my sisters call me out because I’m doing something I enjoy doing, it makes me upset. I’m not the most socialist person, I’m shy. I can’t even present something in front of big groups of people.
That’s why I feel that I can really be myself on Tumblr. I can go crazy over someone I like and post my interest. Writing feels like the one thing I can call mine. Like its that one thing no one can take away from me. So I want to thank everyone who makes me want to write. I also want to apologize for not always updating. I get writers block really badly, I know its not an excuse but its the truth, every time you ask for another part or something different I feel a bit pressured, and I really want to give you what you want, but it isn’t always easy.
Sorry for my stupid rant and wasting your time…. :/
Summary: “Don’t do it,” he mutters. “Don’t do it, please, don’t do it.”
But there it is, a soft pink line appearing right next to the control. Stiles’ legs give out from under him; he sinks to the bathroom floor, hands shaking, his entire body shaking. It’s hard to breathe, his vision blurring around the edges. There’s a knock on the door behind him and then it opens and Scott sits down next to him.
“I’m fucked,” Stiles gasps, tears prickling at his eyes. “I’m fucked!”