
, ꒰ׁׁׅׅ I love my boyfriend ! . ͝ །
་།࣭ 02. 14. 26 ⠀contact ⠀& ⠀main ׁ
֪ ⩊ ֪֪݃ selective sharing ︶˚̣̣̣
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My Dearest Derek, O2. 17. 26
Loving you is like standing in the middle of a storm and somehow feeling completely safe. The world may see the guarded alpha, the quiet strength, the eyes that have witnessed too much pain — but I see the man beneath it all. The one who loves fiercely. The one who protects without hesitation. The one whose heart, though scarred, is still the most loyal and beautiful thing I have ever known.
You carry your past like a weight on your shoulders, but even with everything you've endured, you choose to fight. You choose to care. You choose to stay. That kind of strength isn’t just power — it’s courage. And it makes me fall for you more every single day.
When you look at me with those intense, searching eyes, it’s like you’re trying to memorize my soul. And maybe you are. Because that’s how you love — deeply, completely, without ever doing anything halfway. Your touch is steady, grounding. Your presence feels like home. In a world full of chaos, you are my calm.
I love the way you pretend not to care, but always show up first. I love the way your voice softens when you say my name. I love the rare, quiet smiles that feel like secrets meant only for me. With you, I don’t need to be fearless — because you make me brave.
If I could take away every scar, I would. But they are part of you, and they tell the story of the survivor you are. And I love every part of that story.
Always yours, James.
My dearest Derek, O2. 26. 26
I had a dream about you last night.
It felt so real — the kind of dream that lingers long after waking, wrapping around the heart like moonlight through the trees. In it, I was lost in my own storm. Angry. Stubborn. I had done terrible things — things I can’t undo. There was blood on my hands and pride in my voice, and I kept insisting I was right even when I knew, somewhere deep down, that I wasn’t.
And yet… you stayed.
You didn’t turn away from me. You didn’t abandon me to the darkness I had created. You stood there with that steady, unwavering gaze — the one that sees through every lie I try to tell myself. You tried to explain what I had done wrong, not with cruelty, not with judgment, but with patience. With care. You wanted to help me be better. You wanted to pull me back from the edge.
That’s what struck me most.
Even when I was at my worst — even when I was difficult and defensive and drowning in my own mistakes — you didn’t stop choosing me. You stayed by my side. Not because I deserved it in that moment, but because you believed I could be more than my failures.
You have always been like that. Fierce in your loyalty. Quiet in your love. Protective, not just of my life, but of my soul.
Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve someone who stands so firmly in the storm instead of running from it. Someone who doesn’t just love the easy parts of me, but fights for me when I’m lost inside myself.
That dream reminded me of something important: you are my anchor. My strength when mine falters. The voice that guides me back when I lose my way.
I may be stubborn. I may make mistakes. I may fall.
But knowing you are there — choosing me, guiding me, loving me — makes me believe I can rise again.
Forever yours, With all my heart.
My dearest Derek, O2. 26. 26
It’s me.
Your Stiles.
I don’t even know where to start, which is ironic, because I always have something to say. Words have never been my problem. But when it comes to you—when it comes to missing you—everything feels heavier. Quieter. Like the world turned the volume down and forgot to tell me why.
I keep expecting to see you leaning against a wall somewhere, arms crossed, wearing that gentle expression you only showed a few. I miss the way your eyes would soften when you thought I wasn’t looking. I miss the rumble of your voice when you said my name like it meant something. Like I meant something.
You always made me feel steady. And that’s not easy to do with me. I spiral. I overthink. I ramble when I’m nervous, which is always. I hate people. But you never walked away from that. You listened. Even when I was being ridiculous. Even when I was scared and trying to hide it behind sarcasm.
You saw through me.
And you stayed.
I miss the way you’d stand just close enough that I could feel the warmth of you. The way your hand would find mine—firm, grounding, like you were silently promising, “I’ve got you.” You always did. Even when things were dark. Even when I doubted myself.
Especially then.
Being me—being Stiles—means I carry a lot of noise in my head. Doubts. Guilt. Fear of not being enough in a world full of claws and fangs and people stronger than I’ll ever be. But with you? I never felt small. You made me feel brave. Like my heart and my mind were just as powerful as anything supernatural.
And now you’re not here, and everything feels off-balance.
I miss your stubborn loyalty. I miss your quiet protectiveness. I miss the way you’d pretend not to care while caring more than anyone else ever could. I miss the nights that felt safe just because you were there. I miss the future we never got to fully live out.
But more than anything, I miss you choosing me.
If you can hear me—wherever you are—just know this: I’m still yours. Still the same sarcastic, anxious, hopelessly-in-love idiot who looks at you like you hung the moon. I carry you with me in everything I do. In every brave decision. In every moment I stand my ground. That strength? That’s you. You gave me that.
I love you, Derek.
In this world, in any world.
Always your Stiles.