Overthinking Stories

𝐆𝐈𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎, a young girl who's never known stability. Raised by a reckless, unstable mother, she spent her childhood caught between drug runs and police raids, ruining her right for a normal childhood. One night when her mother goes missing, Giulia's whole life changes... again. Will being under the guardianship of her new older brothers give her a chance at normalcy in her life or will they cause even more mess than before? Healing isn't easy and trust doesn't come free. ☆ ☆ ☆ As I lied there in the hospital bed with a pounding headache, practically suffocating me while barely conscious, I heard that familiar, raspy, deep, sleep deprived voice that I've recently come to find comfort in. "Nessuno oserà toccarti di nuovo senza perdere le mani, amore," they whispered. (No one will dare touch you again without losing their hands, love.) I felt two hands hold my face with a soft kiss on my forehead. Their rough and large hands a contrast to their gentleness. The comforter over me shuffled as the familiar person brought them up to my chin and tucked me in. "Riposati ora sei al sicuro, bambina," they murmured, stroking my hair. Before I knew it, simply the presence of them reassured me as I felt myself drift off again into a deep sleep. (Rest now, you're safe, baby). ☆ ☆ ☆ 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 (noun): a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.

From year to decades Izuku had fought to kill one person, one person who he thought deserved death than any other being that had existed on their planet , any villain he fought, and every creature that followed evil. All for One, the strongest villain the world had, but to Izuku he was nothing more than the one that had caused the death of his friends and family. He had seen everything because of All for One, the rise and fall of nations, showers of blood, and everything else that had pushed him to choking Shigaraki to death with his own hands. Watching the life drain out of him as he felt something welling up inside him. Whether it was glee or even more anger he didn't know, but once Shigaraki's eyes became lifeless it had all left him in an instant. He finally had nothing. Nothing to fight for, a reason to continue, or even a person to love.. for Izuku, he believed there was only one thing left for him to do. - Welcome to the Rewrite - This is going to be way longer than the first, I don't know by how much but I felt like the original left something to be desired so I'm going to take the time to flesh out the environment more and see what I can do around what was once not acknowledged.

Hayashi Nozomi carries a name everyone fears - the daughter of a villain. Haunted by her past, burdened by perfectionism, she struggles to trust anyone... until Katsuki Bakugou refuses to see her as anything but herself. In a school full of heroes, can she find the strength to wield her quirk without losing herself? In a world that wants her to fail, will she learn to trust someone again? Or will the weight of her own perfectionism and past keep her trapped in the shadows forever? "You think I care who your parents are? You're you. That's what matters." The rigths of the Mha storyline belong to Kohei Horikoshi only. Only my Oc is my own idea and everything that doesn't happen during the manga.

She was never the kind of girl who could walk up and start a conversation. So she didn't. She just watched him. From the corridor. From the classroom door. From a distance that was always safe... and silent. He never knew. And maybe, he was never supposed to. Years later, she doesn't miss him the way people think. She misses the way her heart used to feel when he was around. And somehow... those feelings still find their way back in dreams, in memories, in quiet moments she never talks about. This isn't a love story. It's about the kind of feeling that was never said out loud...

They told her she was unstable. Too quiet. Too paranoid. Too difficult to understand. So Manyata stopped arguing. She stopped talking. And when even silence started feeling like a mistake... she walked into his clinic. Dr. Michael Jackson didn't look like someone who fixed broken people. He looked like someone who studied them until they stopped being people at all. He said he was a forensic psychologist. He said she was safe here. But the way he watched her-like he already knew how she would break next-made her question something far more dangerous than her sanity. What if she wasn't here to be healed? What if she was here to be understood... a little too well? And what if the only person who finally made her feel "normal" was the same man who made normal feel like a lie?

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice low and edged with suspicion. I gathered what little courage I had left and gulped the lump in my throat. "I-I got lost," I stammered, trying to sound calm, though my voice still wavered and betrayed me. He scrutinized me. "Lost? In a place like this?" he questioned. I could hear the disbelief in his tone. 𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 She thought she was running from her life. She didn't know she was running straight into his. 𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 "Where do you go when you're running from yourself?"

She was always there for everyone. But when she needed someone... nobody stayed. A story of betrayal, loneliness, rumors, strict parents and silent battles. Sab the. Par koi nahi tha.

𝐓𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𖦹🍀୭˚. ᵎᵎ｡🧷𖦹°‧ Aurelia Desouza has a habit of finding beauty in everything. Sunsets, stars, forgotten flowers, old songs, random moments that most people would never notice. Kyren Arora is the complete opposite. Quiet, guarded, and impossible to understand, he keeps people at a distance and hides behind walls nobody has ever managed to break. They've known each other for years. Long enough to know each other's favorite colors, favorite songs, and the versions of themselves nobody else gets to see. Yet somehow, they feel farther apart than ever. As life pulls them back into each other's orbit, old memories begin resurfacing, unanswered questions refuse to stay buried, and the line between friendship and something much more complicated starts to blur. Constellations of Us is a story about growing up, finding beauty in ordinary moments, healing from the things we never talk about, and discovering that some people leave traces of themselves in your life no matter how much time passes. Because maybe the people who feel like home are the hardest ones to forget.

some feelings are easier to type than say out loud. typed, erased, repeated. is a collection of poems, late-night thoughts, unfinished feelings, love that stayed too long, memories that still ache, and the kind of emotions people pretend they've moved on from. these pages were written in moments of overthinking, healing, missing, loving, breaking, and becoming. maybe you'll relate to some of them. maybe you'll wish you didn't.

To the world, I am a familiar routine-a predictable smile, a quiet presence, a face moving seamlessly through the crowd. They see the surface and assume the water is still. But they don't see the midnight glow of a screen casting shadows against my wall, or the heavy architecture of thoughts I hide behind a breathless, "I'm okay." No one sees the war fought in the quietest moments, where the mind refuses to rest. This isn't a story of a flawless life or a perfect protagonist. It is a mosaic of overthinking and loneliness, of crushing pressure and desperate comfort. It is the chaotic, beautiful blueprint of dreams, and the ache of growing up while trying to piece together who I am. Perhaps my story isn't rare. Perhaps I am just another fragile soul trying to navigate the eclipse of my own mind. But beneath every quiet exterior lies an ocean. And there is always, always more to us than the world cares to see.

Nyla has lived her entire life on guard. She has nothing interesting to share about herself, only sleepless nights, overthinking and a constant feeling that something is wrong with her. After all, it must be her who's flawed. The whole world can't possibly be the problem when she's the only one who seems to be right. She makes herself small. Invisible. She keeps people at a distance before they grow tired of her and everything that goes on inside her head. Because people make her uneasy. They leave. They lie. They destroy things. Wade already knows how brutal life can be. You work until your body gives out. Fight hard enough to make a living. Bury your feelings deep enough so they don't destroy you from within. While other people seem to live lives they actually enjoy, Wade has only learned how to survive from one day to the next. Boxing is the only thing that quiets his mind for a while. They live completely different lives, but they find each other in one thing: silence. It's not love at first sight. It's sleepless nights. Bloody knuckles. Thoughts that never let them breathe properly. Two broken people who slowly start to feel a little less alone in each other's presence. Because some people save each other, while others only learn how to drown together. ______________ #1 firstfriend

Soft poetry about loving deeply, losing quietly, and feeling everything in silence.

Two overthinkers. An eldest daughter who wears responsibilities like a second skin. A youngest son who was forced to grow up much earlier than he should have. Both wonder if what they feel for each other is more than friendship- yet both are terrified of giving that feeling a name. One assumes the other already belongs to someone else. The other believes: "Maybe I'm just not enough." Years pass. Conversations fade. Life moves on. But what happens when two people who were never able to understand their own hearts meet again? Will they finally name the feeling they spent years running from? Or will overthinking steal their chance once again? Let's dive into a story where longing turns sweet.

There are nights where sleep feels like a doorway that doesn't fully close. Thoughts drift in without asking, sitting beside you with silence, repeating themselves until even that silence feels uncertain. Nothing happens, but everything continues. Memories surface without warning, not as stories, but as weight. They break the life you were trying to enjoy, Time stops behaving like time. An inner sanctuary, if it can still be called that. Where nothing's said, but nothing's ever gone.

hiiii

"TOO LAZY TO EXPLAIN."

Jude's pov of overthinking how sharpness are behaves around him Cover art is not mine. I found it on Pinterest and couldn't find the original artist. If you are the artist and want credit or removal, please contact me

Some nights are too quiet. Some thoughts are too loud. This is a collection of poems written in the spaces between midnight and morning, where memories linger, regrets linger longer, and the heart speaks the words the mouth never could. Within these pages you'll find love and loss, longing and loneliness, broken promises, healing wounds, and the confessions we carry when no one is listening. For the dreamers who stay awake too late. For the lovers who loved too deeply. For the souls trying to fill an emptiness they cannot name. So pour yourself a cup of coffee, light a memory you can't let go of, and stay awhile. Welcome to my confessions.

🥀

A chaotic diary written by a mentally unstable teenager trying to survive school, relationships, identity and her own thoughts. About friendships, fear, anger, school and all the things I can't say out loud. People here are named after teas and flowers for privacy reasons... or maybe because it's easier to process that way, for they don't actually feel real. (Idk why I'm doing this. Could this be considered a vent..??)