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#secret obsession
victorias-obsession · 2 years
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Give me your heart. Just give me your heart darling you don’t need them you only need me it’s just taking you awhile to realize that.
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ezellaa136649 · 6 months
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HELPP
MY SISTER JUST FOUND MY TIKTOK ACCOUNT
I May or may not have a bunch of like anime edits and shit 👉👈😔
bUT THATS NOT THE POINT ITS JUST EMBARRASSING AHHHHH- AND ITS JUST STUFF THAT I THOUGHT ONLY I AND MY ONLINE FRIENDS WOULD SEE
I BLOCKED HER SO QUICK😭
PLEASE PRAY FOR ME 🙏🙏😓😓
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aggravatinggemini · 17 days
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secret obsession with brenda song is so bad oh lord
like that was the MOST unsurprising "plot twist" ever
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sleepysebris · 4 months
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:) 🖤
@mlsecretsanta gift for @thequeenofspace! happy belated holidays and apologies for the delay, had a serious family emergency followed by sickness! I had so much fun making this though, was so excited to finally draw these two 🖤 hope you enjoy!!!
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whimsifae · 6 months
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the five homoerotic love languages:
- intimate stabbing
- outright obsession
- confused pining
- "no one knows me like you do"
- lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows
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isjasz · 5 months
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[Day 157]
You're not one of us
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the "i definitely do NOT have feelings for them in any way shape or form" while obviously crushing on them trope might be cliché to you. it's about being doomed from the start, the desperate denial of the starved self, the tragic inevitably of love to me tho
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krizzycoleeeee · 1 year
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Be Irresistible. His Secret Obsession has helped thousands of women improve their relationships.
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victorias-obsession · 2 years
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At this point I don’t think watching you is enough honestly my dear you need to be kidnapped, tied in a basement left there for only my eyes, my enjoyment.
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crystalliumdaisy · 5 months
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the beginning of the end
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radishearts · 5 months
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It’s almost like they’re birds of a — no I shan’t say 👀
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Reblogs appricoted :>
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its-shells · 4 months
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“So,” Grian says, “this is awkward.”
Scar says nothing. Scar had said nothing for quite a while, honestly, sitting cross-legged in the void and playing with the hem of his cloak. Or with the flower stems woven through the hem of his cloak, as it were. Lilacs and poppies. Grian had thought it painfully ironic the first time he saw them. Scar hadn’t. Not until now.
“So,” Grian says, again, “I can explain? I think?”
He can hear stifled giggles behind him, Scott and Pearl discussing the last moments of the fight. He feels Martyn’s heated glare between his shoulder blades too, knows that he’ll be getting an earful about taking his final life whenever the fourth winner can get his hands on him, but at least Martyn’s been kind enough to leave him at the mercy of the fifth for now. Or not kind enough, as it were. Whether or not Scar has any mercy for him is an open question.
“Explain what,” Scar says. It’s not a question, which is just as well, since Grian doesn’t really have an answer.
Can he explain?
“Well,” he says, “there’s these death games.”
The death games he technically started, and then technically couldn’t stop. The death games that weren’t meant to be blood sacrifices, but probably count as happening on somebody’s altar. The death games that no one ever wins, but technically–
“Technically, the people who win them get to keep their memories.” He scrunches up his nose. “Or, uh, recover their memories of the previous ones, I suppose. Which is what’s happening to you. And Martyn, and Pearl, and Scott, and I was the first, so–”
“One heck of a headache, right?” Pearl yells behind them. “Was even for me, and you’ve got four whole timelines to deal with!” She flops backwards onto the floor, which is the void, pressing the back of the palm to her forehead theatrically even as she peers up at Scar through parted fingers. Scott rolls his eyes and grabs her hand.
“Give them a moment, Pearl,” Grian hears him whisper. “I know you weren’t there for Third Life, but I’ve explained it to you a dozen times, so–“
“So,” Scar says. “Third Life was real.”
It’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now.
“That’s a strange way of putting it for someone who hadn’t remembered it at all until now,” Grian says, because he’s always loose-tongued after dying. Scar stares at him, unblinking.
“That’s a strange way of thinking for someone who declared the first ever game a double victory,” he says. His head is tilted to the side.
Grian stares back.
“That didn’t count.”
“It didn’t not.”
“You didn’t remember until now.”
“I didn’t not.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” Scar shrugs. He plucks a flower from between the dark threads. It’s a poppy. “No less than the rest of it. No less sense than me waking up with sand between my toes, or burns on my arms, or bamboo in my pockets. No less than the dreams. Those didn’t make sense either.”
“It’s not like you ever asked me to explain.”
“Would you have?”
“Not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
Pearl is still giggling. Martyn is still staring. Scott is quiet.
“Maybe it is,” Grian admits, quietly. It’s not an apology. It never will be.
Nor is it forgiveness, when Scar leans forward to tuck the poppy behind his ear. Nor will it ever be.
Sure feels like it sometimes though.
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khursheed31 · 1 year
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periwinklemoonlight · 6 months
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see how i circle, imaginary mind, imaginary lines
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originalartblog · 4 months
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He calls him small and little all the time, but when no one's looking, an old mocking nickname fondly makes a comeback
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