❝ wendy? darling? light of my life. i’m not gonna hurt ya. you didn’t let me finish my sentence. i said, ‘i’m not gonna hurt ya.’ i’m just going to bash your brains in. ❞

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IF YOU’RE EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED TO YOUR MUSE AND PHYSICALLY HURT WHEN THEY HURT CLAP YOUR HANDS

❝ When does a difference engine become the search for truth?                      When does a personality simulation become … a soul? ❞

                                          [ like. reblog. follow ]

lnovae:

❝ Jewelries, mansions and those pretty girls that you see in magazines —

                         don’t you at least a tad envy that i had it all? ❞ 

jinhwan victor song. self proclaimed king.                                               ( like, follow, reblog)

                  I can feel the shifting in my b o n e s                   Enclosed are the s e n s e s so unknown                   I’ve been changing, falling, fading                   There’s demons at the door patiently waiting                             ❝ Hello, you’ve reached Scarlett Moon available for all                                                   your paranormal needs, for readings press                                                           one, for other appointments press two.                                                                           Thank you, have a good day!

reblog // like // follow? &&. semi-literate, oc

Aren’t we all waiting to be read by someone, praying that they’ll tell us that we make sense?

Rudy Franciso (via jxniel)

© Man Of the Match | Do not edit. (1,2)

[ 👽 ] -- Well, that obviously didn’t work. Usually in such situations, Iseul would give up, preferring the ability to breathe over attaining his goal, no matter what it was. But this, he was so close. If he could just question this person, he’d maybe finally stumble upon some real answers to the dire questions that had been polluting his mind, for as long as he could remember. The stranger obviously wasn’t going to stop for anything though, so he continued to push forward, running faster than he ever had in gym class, determined to follow this person to wherever he was going.

Talk doesn’t seem like a very different thing from being interrogated, Yoongi is not that good in sports either but he’s been chased around more often than enough for him to know how to just runaway to the sunset. He could see his flat in a distance and he only speed up some more. Surely if he got to his flat the boy would stop following him right? 

                   [ 👽 ] --  “Oh? Really? Well, I don’t                    even know what that means, so I                    don’t think you have to worry about                    that. What is a -- what did you say --                    k i n k exactly?”

{ fromouterspxce }

     “i had the weirdest conversation       with one of my other friends where       we openly discussed the kinks that       we had. i know now him in a way i       sort of wish i didn’t. let’s not have a       repeat.”

[ 👽 ] -- Girls were complicated creatures. This was what his mother had told him, at a younger impressionable age, when he thought it was important to fall into their favor. And he believed it. It was hard not to, when most grimaced at him, as if he had been holding a jar of roaches, for simply existing. Not many years of Iseul’s life passed, before he simply believed that all girls were naturally inclined to dislike him. If you were to ask, he would say that he didn’t even blame them.

Then there was Hana.

Their meeting had been seemingly a blur. But never had she acted as if he emanated something poisonous or gross. In fact, it was rather the opposite, as if she was simply endeared to him, and the things he said. It was strange, certainly something he wasn’t used to, even from his own mother. The phrase his lone parent had taught him in his youth applied more now than ever. Hana was complicated. Yet it was the sort of complicated that Iseul didn’t particularly mind.

Still, when she asked him out for lunch and clung to him, as if he were a friend, and not some weird person obsessed with supernatural life, it took him by surprise. Hopefully, she could put up with his shy antics, because once she had her arms around him, Iseul naturally locked up, a light blush tinting his cheeks. He was not used to girls, or anyone really, being so close to him. Only did he ease up, when Hana mentioned the game they regularly played together. A staring contest. Typically, it wasn’t like him to take up such offers to be bought food, but he was a poor student, and couldn’t really afford to pay for two people. Not that he’d tell her this though.

“As much as I’d love to pay for your lunch, I’d much rather beat you and have you buy it for me.”

( ✍ progressing a new story for … fromouterspxce )

Strap of her bag slinging over her dainty shoulder, hand extended in order to push the door to open it when she was done working. And there might have been a possibility of her contacting a friend, leaving numerous messages when her nagging boss wasn’t on her ass for a whole hour about how she needed this to be done or some other important documents left behind. Either way, Hana does what she needed to do until she was granted permission to leave.

❝Hey, you -❞ When she notices a familiar frame coming closer, the usual cheeky grin etched over his lips. What did she commonly know Iseul by? Right, as the odd one that sticks out compared to the rest of friends she has in her life. She slings her pair of arms over one of his own, leading him onto the polished pavement with the steps etched on. ❝How ‘bout you be a good bud and buy me lunch? Unless -❞

Now Hana doesn’t sound all that fair with the way she’s coming straight-forwardly with this request. The brunette thinks about it, pondering suggestions and she inches her upper half a little further. Her head inclines in order to look back at the taller male, eyes directed towards his visage then adding on. ❝You don’t wanna and we play our quick little starin’ contest, loser has to pay though!❞

[ 👽 ] – Pursing his lips, Iseul tried to find the right words without being rude, which he wasn’t really capable of in the first place, so it wouldn’t be too difficult. There were always people who assumed he believed that anime or video game characters were real, due to his belief in aliens and the like. Though maybe it was his own fault, the term “everything you believed in as a child” had been rather vague. “Well, no. I actually liked both growing up. But I meant erm… mythological creatures, and such. Like fairies, yeah! They’re real, I can assure you. I don’t know about goddesses though.”

Finding the way he talked had something sparking in Jimin, a certain glint evident in his eyes as he stared at the still nameless man beside him. “You believe in Digimons then? I’ve always preferred those over Pokemon, fuck me, right?” assuming that this person (and maybe most people) favored more into the category he had said, he went ahead of judging himself. “I believed in tooth fairy too; still kinda believe in fairies. And maybe a goddess,”

[ 👽 ] – Making friends for him was hard, which was possibly to be expected, considering his personality and his aversion to social outgoings. So, it was always merely by chance, if he met someone willing to put up with his antics. And this was how him and Yeri was, but Isuel appreciated it. Around her, his typical teasing personality came out, which was something worthy as praise, being as girls tended to make the fidgety male nervous. But she was merely Yeri, the kid sister he never had, rather than Yeri the idol, or Yeri the girl who made his guts tremble. Thankfully, their mothers’ friendship kept them in contact, even as both of them became busy with university or promotions. But it was nice seeing her again, and not just words on a phone screen or gossip from a talkative woman’s mouth (“her group got first place, isn’t that exciting?”). Truthfully, he didn’t know what that meant, not being one who kept up with the thriving Pop scene of his home country, but first place was always a good thing, right? Though, that wasn’t the subject currently on his mind, obviously. 

                                       “...Alright. I’ll accept this proposal.                                        Do you get to eat a lot of Red Velvet                                        cake now? Or does it feel cannibalistic?”

[ 🌻 ] – Yeri barely got to hang out with her friends that didn’t go to her school. Especially if they were older and they went to universities already. She was busy, he was busy. It felt almost impossible for them to actually have a real hangout like back in the days. He was only three years older than her and the age gap didn’t seem to bother them. The two simply connected with their “out of this world” personality. The first time they met was at his house for a family dinner. Since their mother’s were friends, of course they had to meet. Due to their similarities, they were able to get along easily. He would watch out over her, while she did the same for him. Even if she was an idol now, she was still the same little girl back then. The one that was obsessed with Hamtaro. She still sent him texts and every now and then. It was great for them to meet up after a while.

             “Don’t sue! We should just go and get some. All on me this time! Don’t worry.”

[ 👽 ] – Libraries were a place of sanctuary, a pillar of hope for the introvert, who found more power in the written word than in himself. They were quiet, and smelled of a familiar dust, that could only be found within the confines of older novels. It was Iseul’s favorite smell, and someone as book obsessed as he could note the different scent levels from place to place. So far, this particular building was his favorite, simply for the delight it caused to tingle within his nostrils. And also because of its extensive collection of books on UFOs and the supernatural.

It was a calming place. The best for settling down and submerging himself into the paranormal, though he could easily do that at home, but it was easier in a place buzzing with human life (albeit silent human life), and a solid Wi-Fi connection. Surrounded by a stack of novels, some he already owned and read over to death, some he had not been able to come across in a bookstore or online. Most of the information from the books had already been lodged into his brain, that they weren’t needed, but Iseul enjoyed simply having them nearby. Inspiration came to him that much quicker, when related materials were within his reach.

But something -- or rather someone -- kept him from completely losing himself to his work. Try as he might, the feeling of being watched refused to leave him, his shoulders scrunching up in mild distaste due to this fact. And Iseul was paranoid enough as it was, refusing to sleep at night, without some form of light and locked doors. So, when the feeling of having someone behind him refused to leave, he turned, only to find a girl watching his laptop screen very closely. The presence of another human, or human seeming being, was almost more frightening than a supernatural creature to the antisocial male. “Can I help you?” he muttered, hardly above a whisper.

fromouterspxce

          Having a routine job would normally provide the worker with specific information regarding observable habits of people and their surroundings. This especially applied to Elara and her rather stationary duty as the local librarian. The same books were usually borrowed by the same people and the same seats were always occupied by familiar faces. Newcomers, though rare, were the easiest to spot because they stood out amongst the crowd of regulars. 

          For the past couple of weeks, she had noticed a new patron: a boy, who would always walk in, laptop tucked under one arm, eyes aglow with curiosity and sometimes, a hint of suspicion. They would linger on the faces of a few people one second, and then downcast the next. Elara found him peculiar, and this sentiment of hers was intensified by the choice of books he decided to read.

          That afternoon, he was there again, and he was at his usual spot: an almost seclusive seat towards the wall where others seldom occupied. The same books on extraterrestrial life and intelligence were spread open in front of him as he had his eyes glued to the screen of his gadget. And for some reason unbeknownst to herself, she decided to have a look on the thing he was working on – one that got him so immersed that he had not looked up even once for the past twenty minutes. 

          Steps light and silent as a mouse, she sneaked up behind him, golden eyes peering over his shoulder. Lines and lines of text met her gaze, and curiosity made her stay rooted to read from beginning to end. Behaviours like these were frowned upon and yet, here she was, being a hypocrite to the very principles she held onto. Perhaps she was standing too close for comfort, but she would not know that; she was too engrossed on the article displayed on the bright screen.

I want to rp with people on AIM because: a) It is something I can carry with me everywhere b) I don’t have to format it c) It’s low pressure and things get dropped all the time d) It’s fast paced with shorter replies e) IT JUST FLOWS EASIER OKAY.

YO FOR THOSE OF YOU AFFECTED BY THE UPDATE: just install tampermonkey (here’s a link for those of you on chrome, aaanad here’s their official site), and then use this script!! it actually works and is v nice tbh. hope this helps some of you!!! ♥♥ 

❝ wendy? darling? light of my life. i’m not gonna hurt ya. you didn’t let me finish my sentence. i said, ‘i’m not gonna hurt ya.’ i’m just going to bash your brains in. ❞

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