#this is just a stupid like thing to me but it makes me sad cause I don’t even hate seeing depictions of Curly as more aware and

[st3f13ily]

SILENT OBSESSION

First point of view, girl (reader) pov, boy pov, yandere, obsession, love obsession, hate obsession.

𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘

The first time I saw him, he didn’t even look at me. But that didn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat.

I was 14 at that time, the time I started to despise him.

But I was 10 when I first loved him.

He was always hard to approach due to the many girls surrounding him, and his friends always with him. I never got the time to talk to him alone. Never got the time to let him see me.

Until one day, where my perspective of him change.

It was raining heavily at that time. He was there waiting...

It was my chance to finally talk to him. Alone. Where no one could disturb us.

Before I knew it, I was already right beside him giving him my yellow umbrella. "Here," I said as I stared right through his eyes.

He is finally looking right at me.

I controlled myself as I smiled at him. "It's raining heavily, you should take this so you can go home safe and dry." I was glad I didn't stuttered.

Just please take it, just take this umbrella as I make my first memory of us interacting and you finally accepting me.

But he just gave me an unusual look and mumbled a sound "tch" and went away.

I wanted to cry at that time.

But I didn't.

I wasn't sad, I was furious.

I ran through the rain as I clutched my bag tighter than ever, my other hand gripping the umbrella handle as I built up my anger towards him.

That's when I figured out that he was untouchable, distant. The heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire, the kind of guy who walked through the school halls with an air of quiet authority. He wasn’t loud or boastful like the other rich boys. He was silent, controlled, and utterly intimidating.

And I used to have the biggest and dumbest crush on him.

I figured out that girls like me are the ones he will never notice. I was just another face in the crowd, an average girl in a sea of students who all probably blended in his mind.

And ever since that embarrassing scenario that day, I barely even tried to catch his attention because, well, what would be the point? He didn’t talk to anyone unless necessary, especially girls who doesnt even have a higher status. And I had never seen him smile. If anything, he seemed bored by the world around him, like everything, and everyone was beneath his interest.

I started making friends at the age of 15. I was afraid at first cause of that one-time mistake of mine.

Until the age of 17 when I found him there.

Sitting around the corner, writing notes in his notebook, looking charming as usual, and I'm now in the same class as him.

I used to have the same class as him in kindergarten until we were separated into different classes at the age of 11, making him not my classmate anymore.

But now, I'm stuck with him again.

And I hated myself for stealing glances at him. When I passed him down the hall or from feeling a little lightheaded when our gazes almost—but not quite—met. But that was all it was.

It was just a harmless stupid crush I had on him that already went away. But why do I still feel my heart is still beating when he is just a few feet away?

I guess that harmless crush is dangerous after all.

Later on, I just learned to accept that a little part of me was still not over him.

But of course, I still despite him.

Then strange things started happening.

At least, that's what I told myself.

The first time was when one of my classmates, started talking to me more often. He was friendly, sweet even, and I thought maybe—just maybe—I’d move on from my silly feelings for him. But then, overnight, that guy who started talking to me started avoiding me. He wouldn’t even look in my direction, and when I finally asked him if something was wrong, he muttered something about needing to focus on other things and walked away.

It wasn’t just that classmate of mine. Anyone who showed the slightest interest in me suddenly changed their mind. As if something or someone was stopping them.

Maybe I'm just not that lovable, that everyone would just move on from me or reject me.

But I know I'm worth it. My friends love me, but I don't know if maybe someday things will change and they might leave me as well.

𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘

I had no idea.

No idea how long I’ve been watching her. How many times I’ve traced the shape of her name in the quiet darkness of my room, repeating it like a prayer. How many people I’ve erased from her life for daring to get too close.

Sometimes, she would look at me. And it's both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing cause I crave her attention more than air. A curse because the way she looks at me is nothing compared to the way I look at her.

It drives me mad, that she only looks at me when necessary. It drives me insane when she laughs at the others who don't even deserve to hear her voice and laughter. It drives me crazy, that she used to have the biggest crush on me, and even today, I know, I know she still has that feeling, but she is willing to change her feelings, she can afford to change her feelings and it might fade, to look at me one day and move on. Making her love in her eyes disappear but only hatred will remain unfazed.

But I can't, I've tried, our lord knows that I have tried.

But the thought of anyone else having her? It’s unbearable.

So I make sure it doesn’t happen.

I make the obstacles in her life disappear. I ensure that no one even thinks about claiming what’s mine. They don’t know it, and neither does she, but I control everything.

And one day, she’ll realize it.

One day, she’ll understand that she belongs to me.

I still remember that day when she handed me her yellow umbrella.

And the start of her hatred towards me.

It had been raining that day.

Not the light, gentle kind of rain but a relentless downpour that drenched everything in sight. I had forgotten my umbrella—not that I cared. I was used to enduring things alone. No one would dare approach me, and I preferred it that way.

But then she did.

She appeared beside me, holding out a bright yellow umbrella, her smile warm and genuine.

"Here," she had said, offering it like it was the most natural thing in the world "It's raining heavily, you should take this so you can go home safe and dry."

I stared at her. At the umbrella. At her outstretched hand.

She's beautiful.

I mean—why should I take it?? How will she even get home then?? I already called my driver to pick me up. She should have it instead of giving it around.

She has a lovely smile, wouldn't want that to be replaced by a frown when she gets soaked.

I shook my head.

Tch, why would she even help me? She will get soaked. Doesn't she know that I can just call my driver when I don't wanna walk? But then again, I almost walked every day cause my friend always wanted to go somewhere walking, after school, and it was a good stamina build.

Or maybe she just doesn't know me.

I walked away not even noticing that when I was thinking about those, one word slipped through my mouth.

I turned around as I remembered I could just take her home, my driver was almost here. But there she was, I watched her run off into the rain, clutching her bag, her grip tightened at the umbrella handle, and something inside me twisted.

Then a few days later. I kept seeing her around.

That's when I remembered that she used to be in the same class as mine at elementary.

Then one day, at the age of 15, I was walking past the school garden when I heard it.

𝗔 𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵.

Not just any laugh, her laugh.

It was light, soft, and completely unguarded. A sound is so pure, so full of warmth, that it shattered something inside me.

I turned my head, and that’s when I saw her. She was standing beneath the cherry blossom tree, laughing at something her friend had said, the sunlight catching the strands of her hair. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, her expression so full of life.

And I—

I couldn't move...

Something inside me cracked, twisted, 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗱.

I had never been interested in anyone before. I had never cared. But at that moment, I needed to hear that sound again.

I needed to make it 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲.

From that day on, I started watching her. At first, it was subtle, just a glance, just noticing where she sat in class. But it wasn’t enough. Soon, I memorized her schedule. I started taking different routes just to cross paths with her. I followed her after school, always keeping a safe distance.

She never noticed.

I made sure of it.

And because of that, I figured out she used to like me but then hated me.

That's when I also figured out that she misunderstood that day when it rained.

I just don't know how to express my emotions, ok.

But that was ok, cause at least she still felt something for me right?

It was the ok cause, even though she still hates me now, I'm quite happy cause she used to like me. I'm glad that she still feels something for me even though it's just hate. I'm delighted that she rather feel hatred towards me than nothing or be bored of me, cause that would be sad now, wouldn't it?

But then at the age of 17 I was now in the same class as hers.

Cause I made sure of it.

Then I realised, that she might still hate me, but she still has feelings for me. I noticed how her face lightened up a bit when we bumped into each other in the hall, I noticed how she kept glancing at me but then realised that she was supposed to hate me.

I'm so happy.

That I even watched her more than before.

The more I watched, the more worse it got.

I started hating the people around her. The boys who made her laugh. The friends who got too close. Every time she smiled at someone else, a sharp, ugly feeling curled in my chest.

And that classmate of mine who got too close to her, that classmate of mine who considered me as his 'friend' talking to her with hearts in his eyes.

Yeah, his done.

That’s when I realized—

It wasn’t just curiosity anymore.

It was 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

And I make sure that she is only mine.

I sit at my usual spot by the window, pretending to be uninterested in everything.

But my eyes flicker toward her.

She’s sitting with her friends, smiling softly as she listens to them talk. She doesn’t know I’m watching. She never does.

Her friends are being so luckily unfair.

They get to feel her touch, get to hear her voice, and to look at her beautiful face.

I think it's time for them to give her to me and get away from her cause I think it's my turn now. It doesn't matter anyway that they are handing her to me.

After all, they were being unfair.

𝚃𝚊𝚐: @p1z-d0n7jud6em3

More of this:

His Obsession Came First

His Name

[alaskan-wallflower]

I wanna know ur opinion on self destructive behaviors you think the greasers have aside from the obvious (eg Two-bits alcoholism, Ponyboys smoking) :]

for sure! tw for alcoholism, drugs, addiction, s/h—you can make your assumptions with this post

firstly is pony’s addiction—i believe that pony started taking aspirins as sleep aid after his parents died. it was after his very first big nightmare, and he literally did not sleep for three days. he had taken the aspirin to alleviate the headaches and such caused by lack of sleep but was delighted to find that when he took about five or six, they put him to sleep—a dreamless sleep. hence why he takes so many. he obviously knows it’s bad since in the book he makes a point to say he avoids darry and soda and anyone else in the gang while doing this. he obviously has an addiction to nicotine too, but i don’t think there’s too much to be said on that since literally everyone in the sixties was a nic fiend so it’s not too uncommon.

additionally, may be a hot take but soda’s recklessness is a coping mechanism. obviously he’s probably partially reckless due to his personality and the fact he’s a teenage boy and will do stupid things like any sixteen year old boy would, but something that kinda sticks out to me is the fact he still likes and participates in drag races after his parents died. i don’t know too much about drag races but i feel like that would be something anyone who lost a parent in a car accident would be wary of. soda “getting high on life” is probably soda needing the adrenaline boost, needing that spike of dopamine caused by driving way past the speed limit, or going out drinking with steve, or shagging sandy, or stealing, or causing public disturbances, or getting in trouble with the cops, or whatever. he needs that validation of being able to feel something that isn’t pure anguish because day in and day out he’s tormented by his parents death and then has to come home and play mediator.

darry’s self destructive behavior in my head is good restriction. he used to be a really chubby kid, until middle school or so when he started genuinely working out and got muscular, but he was scared of reverting back to his old body, so he started food restricting. it got better for about a year until his parents died to which he ended up food restricting out of grief. he physically cannot stomach food when he’s upset, and he doesn’t feel worthy of it. he struggles with not feeling worthy. he really does.

two-bit started drinking when he was maybe fifteen. he snuck into the kitchen one night because of teenage curiosity and tried it—and he liked it a lot. a bit too much. it blocked eddy thing from his head and it made him feel more sociable and likable because underneath the alcohol, he is pretty self conscious of himself and doesn’t eek like he can be liked vy the gang or girls if he’s sober, so he uses alcohol as a mask because to him, drunk two-bit is better than sober two-bit. he’s funny, charming, reckless…and when he’s sober he’s just tired, he’s sad, he’s reckless…he doesn’t like himself sober and he doesn’t think anyone else will either.

not really self destructive but kinda goes with the theme—steve’s love language is gift giving and not in a good way. the only love he’s been shown as a child is having his dad give him money as an apology, and he takes that to heart, and whenever he’s fighting with evie, or if soda is upset, his immediate response is to give them money or to buy them something. it’s the only love he knows, therefore the only love he can regurgitate and apply to real relationships

[skitskatdacat63]

Seb comes to Fernando's bedside to cheer him up! (aka resolving my turmoil over there being no vettonso moments yesterday)(long gif!!!)

+ what if Fernando hadn't been out sick!

[brofightiscancelled]

okay ill bite why do u hate kaoru sakuraba sidem aside from the fact that they went from hokuto as a main blue to downgrade to kaoru. to make it less awkward that I’m asking abt sidem on ur osomatsu side blog, what sidem idols would u assign to each matsu ?

i think sideM should collab w osomatsu-san and put them all in Beit so they can all get JOBS!!!!!!

anyways i hate kaoru from idolmaster sideM. i need all my osomatsu-san side blog followers to know that i hate this man. "i need a lot of money fast to pursue an extremely niche medical research track, which is why i quit my stable and high paying job as a surgeon to become an idol while having no soft skills, physical strength or stamina, or interest in getting along with people" are you Stupid??

he's not even using his idol clout to spread awareness of the rare disease he's trying to cure (like SEM does) so it can secure funding, he sees it 100% as a job and refuses to have fun, he is actively unpleasant and uncooperative in every interaction with his coworkers because he's trying to "rise to the top". it seems like the only thing he has going for him are his looks and that he kind of liked to sing when he was a kid. why not become a model at that point when you have the personality of a wet tree trunk. or better yet why not STAY A FUCKING DOCTOR!!!!!

also, i don't like meganes, so write that down.

[dykedvonte]

My post about Anya is making like a little ruckus on Twitter and I think it’s crazy how many people like have a problem with it.

Like you don’t have to agree with how I characterize Anya and her actions but it’s more like, why are you focused on only one aspect of her character? Why are you removing nuance from the situation? I don’t see it as giving Curly the benefit of the doubt when it comes to doing better for Anya, but as exploring his character and hers relationship with a the very little authentic facts we get about them. In truth, there’s a lot more I wish Curly did, even if it wasn’t pragmatic but I realize the issue there.

The first psychological horror game in a while that’s real intricate in its storytelling and makes you need to really need to address the morality of intentions and its already getting torn asunder smh 😔

[mirensiart]

I just kinda assumed Wars smacked Wind's bottle away and gave him a Look, but now Miry over here making me worry at midnight omfg the fic potential if that doesn't pan out

I KNOW it's almost 4am here and I'm spiraling over this kfbfkfnf

[moeblob]

Erin, to her crush: You're a dick

Mason, the crush: I won't argue! But to clarify -

[bi-panic-at-the-disco]

I like how whenever I watch AstralSpiff or Backseat play a new Poppy Chapter it’s pretty clear what game that they devs had been playing before hand lmao,, Chapter 4 being very clearly referencing to the Resident Evil 4 underground factory insect fights with how it was framed

[nonsensechemicals]

crying whenever i talk about Cookie9 because all my friends have these interesting and unique theories on them while i take everything too literally and they all just stare at me like “dude… uuugh we r TIRED” <-they dont actually say this they are very kind to me but i can Feel It

[stinkypeanutbutter]

honestly I have nothing much to say about the canvas ( because I skimmed through it out of lack of interest even tho I was fixated on sbg for idk how long before you all saw DONT even lie ) but I lowkey love Ashlyn’s little dancer costume it’s very silly !!! Also kinda hoping their silly little homeless children costumes ( hopefully that’s not offensive ) come into play at one point . Like . . a school play . I’m screwing around with ideas here .

[youngpettyqueen]

every time I see a bad take about Julian getting replaced by a Changeling I have to take a deep breath and remember that people are entitled to their (wrong) opinions

[anaalnathrakhs]

i <3 feeling like i'm literally always making the wrong choice

[binders-and-beanies]

I’ve said it before I think but. The argument about whether you need dysphoria to be trans is mainly just an argument about the definition of the word dysphoria. People who say you Do need dysphoria to be trans tend to define it as just a state of your gender identity not matching what you were assigned at birth, or just some kind of internal sense that you are trans. People who say you Don’t need dysphoria to be trans tend to define it as self hatred, extreme discomfort with one’s appearance and genitalia, being miserable with life etc.

No room for any in between or for individuals to have personal experience w what dysphoria means for them. Which leads to a whole lot of putting words into people’s mouths and assigning beliefs to people and making up a guy to get mad at and creating mortal enemy Teams about it when there’s really a lot more agreement than we acknowledge. There will never be one universal definition of dysphoria or transness, and I think it would be beneficial if more people approached it with more nuance

[phagodyke]

this is like my fourth or fifth consecutive bad gym session I might as well just kill myself

[girlivealwaysbean]

okay ventpost time im bored and my period is late

[catominor]

This Years Thoughts On Reading. tbh

the past year i read a lot more than i had in quite some time. to be fair, i didn't finish most of the books i started, didn't start most of the books i want to read, and spent most of my time wasting time on social media still (i don't know why i can't stop doing this. i don't even enjoy it past a certain point). i didn't do well in my university classes. but for a really long time i've found it very difficult to read at all, even to read fiction. i read a lot of fiction (by my standards) this year, especially historical fiction set in ancient rome (though i also read some other good books, favorites among which are probably queer by william burroughs, night side of the river by jeannette winterson, and invisible cities by italo calvino. i also read quite a few short stories and a bit of poetry), i read or started /some/ nonfiction, i read or started /some/ ancient literature, and i had a poem and a short story published in my university's poetry journal and newspaper respectively...

but, really, i feel a little in over my head. i don't really feel like i can do this, by which i mean i still don't think i'm trying hard enough at university. i feel behind everyone else, despite the fact that since i've transferred to a different university having done 2 years before, i still have this and another year before i graduate. even though most of the people in my year will be 2 years younger than me i feel like i am behind them (did i mention that i did badly on my exams last year?)

especially before university i was never a particularly good student, honestly (i was like. a C average, though in my 3rd and 4th years of high school i started to try a little harder) and i think i spend a lot of time now fruitlessly wishing that i had tried harder and taken more of an interest in things. i still wish i tried harder. i still wish that passion was enough to fuel me to actually focus on filling out my historical reading. i wish i just didn't feel so stupid sometimes, honestly. sometimes i'll open a book that's a bit dense or technical and it just makes me feel like the biggest idiot in the world. i wish i was better at articulating my thoughts. i also wish i understood literary analysis or criticism. in a lot of ways now i feel dumber than i was a few years ago, and i don't know why.