#obsessive core

[anunsociablebear]

I wasn't born to casually date. I was born to melt into one with the love of my life until you cant tell us apart and we haunt the same grave for eternity.

[aspdist]

" Stalking. "

God forbid I have access to public information and know how to utilise my resources.

[millyondollarpussy]

Yandere Painter x Muse HCS

Yandere Painter!Male x Fem!Muse

Not proofread.

You had met him coincidentally at a cafe in a smaller down in the south of France. You were there for pleasure. Leisurely spending your days indulging in sunshine and the delicacies France has to offer.

You’re sitting in the courtyard of a beautiful hotel cafe when you spot each other.

He’s a mature gentleman, eccentric more than gentle I suppose. Unruly hair, a sooty look that comes with years of charcoal painting. He sees you and from across the yard you can visibly see his eyes widen and his face express a state of pure shock.

That day you ended up walking the estate you were staying at and being invited to his, as well as his studio in the city.

You become his muse from the moment he is eyes set upon you. You are the incarnation of every moment of inspiration he has ever experience. The refined expression of the abstract creations he has produced over the years of his career. You are the manifestation of his madness and he must witness you as much as possible.

He sends letters. Yes, he is a man of the ages and he loves to write you letters. The only time you would ever possibly receive a message from him digitally would be one from one of his assistants requesting your presence.

His letters use an arrangement of the materials he keeps in the studio and ever letter has a sketch. One that would be akin to one that Van Gogh would scribble on a napkin that would go from six figures. Honestly he is such a kind soul for sending you assets on the daily.

When you are together he is manic. He must have you in every light. Every angle every moment and possible setting. You as an empress, you as flowers, you as the river nile. The starts, the moons, all of Olympia.

He was never a man of god. Although He was a man who seemed to be the right hand of god given his skill. And he used any gifts given to him to elevate and immortalize you. You become the only thing he comes to paint.

He wants the world to memorialize you and worship you through their worship of his craftsmanship. You are his god and he must consecrate you into the context of history.

You are in his studio and all you can hear are his heavy exhales and at time curses.

You go on walks and he goes on rants of his ideas of captivating you into the canvas.

his accent thick as the acrylic he uses.

Anytime a friend or associate comes or goes through the studio they can see he is solely focused upon you.

He gives offhanded comments or answers tot hem. Not even a gaze in there direction unless it’s one that expresses “go now.”

All the days he spends with you are always compensated. As many letters as he sends you, gifts follow, the days he spends with you are followed by dinners or intermissions by shopping in the city. He buys you gems and jewels in exchange for painting you with them on.

He uses your life stories and plans to mythologize you. To create the concepts of his art. If you share a story of child hood he is able to translate it into a work of feeling into a canvas.

He hates art shows. He’s a hermit at best but as a worshipper he now feels for the first time in his life the necessity to go and explain the depths of methodology used to express you.

It’s the first time the public has ever seen him seem in the realm of humans.

Your days in Paris or in Europe for the matter never go without notice to him. You could be in Spain for a deal or shoot and you’ll receive a letter sent to your hotel room and when you go to scan it you instantly recognize his hand writing.

It’s always something so devoted and demented:

“My Darling, it has been so long since I have seen you. You must come relish me in your presence. I must see you. I had a vision the night before last. It was you in sapphire. The background images of lust and devotion.

I miss you so.

Only yours, X”

And with it a box with a sapphire necklace.

I’m a woman of color(so the image is supposed to be inclusive!!!!!!!!!) colored women unite-

I think I entered flow state with this one. Let me know if I ate down or nah.

[return-to-limbo]

Tell me you love me. Again. Again. Again. I don’t care if you’re tired. I don’t care if your throat is raw. Say it until I believe it. Say it until it’s the only thing you know how to say. Say it until it’s the only truth left in your world.

[the-dread-quinn]

[bigsharter666]

how to be alone, a lonely person's guide:

1. make a mug of tea, try to appreciate the silence. you can hear every bubble in the kettle if you really try. hold your cup gently, press it against your body. feel the warmth spreading. graze your knuckles against it, feel them sting. forget about it until its cold. sometimes tea isnt even about drinking it, it's just about having something to keep you company.

2. go out to lunch, because you decided you were going to. you dont need a reason to get your favourite food, youre allowed to do it! when the waitress asks you if you are waiting for someone, try not to cry.

3. realise how quiet lunch is when it's just you. you didnt bring anything to do, that was stupid. what was the plan? just eat too quickly, leave even faster. maybe next time bring a book or something, you know one of the ones youre always pretending you will read? yeah that one.

4. go see a movie! movies are a great way to pass the time. try not to look at the couples and friend groups. noone cares that youre alone, they probably dont even notice. try not to think about it. theyre not laughing at you just stop thinking about it.

5. take up a hobby, tumblr blogging or journaling or knitting or hoarding. it helps fill the time. arent the days just so long? its crazy how much time you have. youre looking at the clock too often, stop doing that! seriously, it just makes time go slower. why cant you just enjoy yourself? do you even like knitting? what do you like then? whatever i guess you can just go to sleep early.

6. take a sleeping pill, take a few. have a drink. why not? its not like anyone is keeping track. pick up smoking again, because you forgot why you quit in the first place. it feels good, whats wrong with just wanting to feel good sometimes? youre young it doesnt even matter. tomorrow will be better. tomorrow you will be better. figure it out, it wont always be this hard. tomorrow will be better.

[kawaiibugzlover]

my toxic trait is believing that you shouldn't even smile if it's not because of me.

[sweetdulls]

i feel so pathetic, holding this pillow and wishing so badly that it was you instead. i keep pretending i can run my fingers through your hair, that i can breathe in your scent and feel the warmth of you against me. i close my eyes and try to imagine you here, the weight of your body beside mine, the steady rise and fall of your chest.

just the thought of having you so close makes me ache, angel. it’s a sweet kind of pain, the kind that lingers in my ribs and won’t let me rest. it hurts that i can’t hold you. it hurts that all i have is the thought of you, and somehow, that’s still the only thing keeping me warm.